The Cloak of Levitation released Gullveig, then moved to absorb the fire energy from her guards. It had full confidence in the next Sorcerer Supreme.
At Gullveig's level, within ten meters of Deathstroke, she couldn't stir a ripple.
Gullveig didn't resist further. She adjusted her armor to look presentable, then sat on the grass.
"If you can truly deliver, Vanaheim will meet any terms," she said.
"Terms later. Vanaheim has nothing now but food and wine. Any other specialties? I'll keep a tab," Su Ming replied, waving off the offer.
Gullveig didn't know it, but Su Ming did: she was immortal. Hela adored her cousin.
In the comics, Gullveig died routinely, only to be revived by Hela in the underworld, sent back to rule Vanaheim. Even Odin couldn't stop her.
Her penchant for revolution—constantly attacking Asgard, always reviving—forced Odin's concessions.
With her suicidal assaults and help from Hela and Freya, Vanaheim eventually gained independence.
Then Ragnarök came, and everyone perished.
Befriending the Vanir wasn't a bad move. Their brewing skills were advanced, and they crafted luxury goods—jewelry, silks, satins.
For enterprise growth, the path lay at others' feet.
"You know Asgard's All-Mother, your sister, plus Gaia and Sif," Su Ming posed.
"Of course, but she's not my sister," Gullveig replied calmly.
"You can't deny her blood or that she's Odin's queen." Su Ming plucked three blades of grass, laying them in his palm for her to see.
Gullveig glanced. "What's this got to do with Vanaheim?"
Su Ming smiled, placing the grass in her pale hand. "Your sister's smarter than you. Her strength isn't on the battlefield but in the palace." He beckoned the cloak back. "One moment."
Using the Comedian's badge, he popped to the DC universe, grabbing sets of The Legend of Zhen Huan, altered by that world's differences, and some laptops.
The cloak, sulky as a kid pulled from a game to run errands, moved reluctantly but returned at top speed, eager to absorb more fire energy.
Su Ming briefly conferred with the Ancient One at Kamar-Taj, then portaled back to Gullveig.
He handed her a DVD set and a laptop, showing her how to boot it, play the series, charge it, and handle basics.
As she watched, he outlined his plan.
"To free Vanaheim, kill Gaia and Sif, leaving Freya in sole control."
"Hm?" Gullveig looked puzzled.
"Watch the drama, and you'll get it. No time now. Order your army to fight alongside Asgard. I'll take you to the Golden Palace to watch with your sister. She'll learn more."
Su Ming decided to reveal his identity to Freya. Holding her sister gave him leverage—she wouldn't snitch to Odin.
The cloak absorbing the enslaving fire energy was his sincerity. Taking Gullveig to Freya was more.
The demons wanted the vault's treasures. Su Ming wouldn't let them have it. The Golden Palace had to hold.
Gullveig, baffled by the moving, talking figures on the screen, needed to learn Earth's language.
After brief thought, she ordered her now-clearheaded troops to rally and join her at the Golden Palace.
Su Ming resumed Odin's guise, mounting Sleipnir, projecting regal authority.
To onlookers, it seemed the Allfather had swayed Gullveig, and the Vanir joined Asgard's side.
Their army was more guerrilla than professional. Some, freed of fire's influence, should seek refuge.
Preserving Vanaheim's strength, even aiding them to balance Asgard, was key.
The extra laptops and DVDs? One for his adjutant to reverse-engineer, one for the Ancient One's amusement.
The rest would be academy teaching tools for a psychology elective. He didn't expect the girls to become masterminds, but they shouldn't turn into naive sweethearts.
Things went smoothly. Asgardians, used to fighting Vanaheim one moment and allying the next, had no objections.
Warriors fought; the Allfather decided. They obeyed.
The demons were numerous. More allies were better than more enemies, though the demon leaders, entangled with flame beasts, kept the pressure high.
Su Ming left Freya behind, sending others to Heimdall's fief. Whatever the sisters discussed in the Golden Palace, he didn't care.
Freya likely knew he was a fake but hadn't snitched earlier, so she wouldn't now.
Once she grasped palace intrigue, Odin's "good days" were coming.
As Su Ming organized defenses and left the Golden Palace, he saw wooden sailboats crowding the sky, packed like refugee vessels heading for Asgard.
Moments later, black vertical ships warped in above the battlefield.
Su Ming raised an eyebrow. Perfect. The World Tree's fire had drawn the Dark Elves.
Where was Hela?
Then, from another direction, a massive, menacing flat warship led a fleet, dwarfing the Dark Elves' ships.
Both fleets opened fire, turning the sky into chaos.
Sailboats landed to escape, while warships traded volleys, sparking explosions.
"The Dark Aster? Accuser Ronan? The Kree Empire?" Su Ming mused.
With Heimdall unconscious, no one activated the Bifrost's shield, letting fleets warp to Asgard. The sky was now a battlefield.
Su Ming stroked his beard, pondering atop his horse.
The Dark Elves likely chased Light Elves, here to exploit the chaos.
But the Kree? Shouldn't they be preparing for war with the Skrulls?
The Kree Empire, unsplit, saw Ronan as a Supreme Accuser, part of their militaristic, legalistic society, wielding military and political power.
He served the Supreme Intelligence, a supercomputer modeled on the Cosmic Cube.
The Skrulls had their World Shaper; the Kree countered with the Supreme Intelligence.
It had a mind and will, blending all Kree intellect, part organic, part machine.
Telepathy, dimension-hopping, precognition, teleportation, cosmic awareness, data absorption—it could do it all.
It manipulated energy and matter, creating three robotic servants as its eyes and ears across vast distances.
It could project itself anywhere, even soul realms, and link telepathically with agents.
It replaced the Kree Empress and Senate, infallible, spawning a religion: the Supreme Intelligence Cult.
It was hostile to Earth, driven by a cold desire for evolution and admiration for the Celestials.
It conducted experiments galaxy-wide, even trying to farm humans.
Why were the Kree fighting Dark Elves?
The answer: borrowing fire.
As Su Ming suspected, the Kree were gearing up for war with the Skrulls.
Space combat required ships, not just soldiers. Neither Kree nor Skrulls could traverse space unaided, making ships vital for jumps or teleports.
Their assembly lines produced tech warships, but the Supreme Intelligence wanted an extraordinary vessel—its mobile command center.
It needed advanced tech and magic compatibility, as future enemies and tactics were unpredictable.
Its precognition required vast data for accuracy; without it, it wouldn't predict.
The demand stumped the Kree—they had everything but mages.
The bio-computer pointed to Asgard's craftsmen and forges.
The dwarves of Nidavellir, powered by a star, crafted supreme weapons and magical items.
They could weave gold into wigs or animate statues.
The Supreme Intelligence saw Asgard's turmoil as an opportunity. Ronan's mission: borrow, steal, or sneak to get what it needed.
It wanted its warship.