What would happen when the real Odin awakens? Su Ming figured he'd just have to swallow it.
No one could prove the current Odin was a fake, so all commands and decisions were Odin's own.
Everyone saw it with their own eyes, and the warriors had no objections. The "will of fire" was still spreading through Asgard.
Unless Odin could later prove he was himself—or that the past him wasn't the current him.
That was the real cosmic conundrum. Besides, suppressing Loki and coddling Thor was Odin's usual style. Loki's lineage ensured he'd never get fair treatment.
In the All-Palace, only Frigga and Thor mattered to Loki. Everyone else's actions and opinions were irrelevant to him.
Though Su Ming had ticked another goal off his list, he'd inadvertently stirred up a massive problem. The Serpent couldn't be ignored—the Nine Realms couldn't fall.
By weakening Asgard, he'd unintentionally made the Serpent harder to counter. Su Ming bore responsibility for this.
He had to face the consequences of his actions.
"When Heimdall wakes, return the greatsword to him," Su Ming instructed Gullveig.
Striding out of the Golden Palace, he mounted a winged steed and headed straight for the Dark Aster.
He didn't approach with an accusatory air; his expression was relatively mild.
Even fully armed, Ronan could tell Odin came to talk, so he promptly opened the massive hangar bay of the mothership.
Su Ming landed amid rows of starfighters. A horse looked out of place here.
Yet the surrounding Kree warriors bowed in respect, showing deference to a supreme powerhouse.
Kree culture was like that—a warrior civilization. Strength was strength, no matter how it was gained, and they offered due respect.
Power was authority.
As the Grand Accuser, Ronan held diplomatic privileges, and the ship naturally had diplomatic staff.
The Kree species could be divided into subtypes. Other intelligent beings, if loyal to the Supreme Intelligence, could live on Kree-Lar, with females even allowed to marry male Kree.
Thus, appearance revealed much: pure blue skin, like Ronan or Korath, marked purebred Kree, often in high positions. Blood purity was a factor in the Supreme Intelligence's appointments.
Then there were those with human-like skin tones—hybrids of Kree and other races, typically low-ranking soldiers or laborers.
Though exceptions existed, light-skinned Kree faced strict oversight and limited advancement on Kree-Lar.
The unspoken rule was that non-blue Kree couldn't become Accusers. The highest roles they could aspire to were generals or planetary governors.
Take the first Captain Marvel: immensely powerful, yet his light skin and human-like appearance relegated him to a mere lieutenant in the Kree fleet, sent to Earth as a spy.
Such was Kree colorism—skin determined fate.
Now, a light-skinned Kree rushed to Su Ming, dropping to his knees in a grand gesture.
His ornate black robe, adorned with golden patterns, marked him as no low-ranking figure—likely the Dark Aster's diplomatic chief.
He spoke fluent Old Norse, his expression brimming with enthusiasm. Though human-like in appearance, his strength rivaled Asgard's warriors.
"Great King of Asgard, Protector of the Nine Realms, Invincible All-Father Odin! We pursued the Dark Elves here and haven't yet submitted a formal entry request. Please forgive us, All-King."
Su Ming nodded. "No matter. Rise, warrior. Unless you're dead, there's no need to grovel."
The ambassador stood without a hint of embarrassment, smiling broadly. "Praise your mercy and wisdom! Even from the far reaches of the cosmos, the Kree Empire feels your radiant glory. Welcome aboard the Kree Empire's Dark Aster. The Grand Accuser is directing combat, so he sent me to greet you."
"Take me to Ronan."
Su Ming surveyed his surroundings. All Kree soldiers maintained their bowed postures, and the ship was eerily quiet, muffling external sounds.
"Please, follow me. The Grand Accuser spares no effort in eradicating the Dark Elves and aiding the people under Asgard's rule."
The diplomat led Odin through a massive hatch toward the bridge at the ship's core. Ahead, crew hurriedly laid a black carpet to keep Odin's war boots pristine.
Say what you will about the Kree's warlike nature—their diplomatic hospitality was impressive.
Su Ming, on Odin's behalf, enjoyed interstellar head-of-state treatment. He wondered about the fleet's mess hall. Did Ronan provide meals?
He'd never tried Kree cuisine and resolved to sample it. Discussing matters over food wasn't just a Midgardian habit—Asgard's tables were never quiet.
They didn't just talk while eating; they fought or smashed goblets.
If you saw someone leap onto the table mid-meal in the All-Palace, singing, dancing, or kicking plates everywhere, don't be surprised.
It was custom—a sign of satisfaction with the food and joy in the feast.
Silent drinking, however, signaled terrible food, a quiet insult to the host.
Vikings of old learned these habits from Asgard, though who taught them was anyone's guess.
With these thoughts swirling, Su Ming maintained a haughty expression: I'm the All-Father, and you're all beneath me.
The more imperious his gaze, the lower the ambassador bowed, his fawning smile growing more pronounced.
They were all grovelers—small wonder a biological computer ruled them.
"Why hasn't Ronan dealt with Malekith yet? Is he planning to negotiate terms with me?"
"Never, never! The Grand Accuser merely wishes you to decide Malekith's fate. His crimes were committed in Asgard's domain, so only you, the supreme ruler, can judge him. We're just holding him at bay."
The ambassador mixed truth with flattery, eager to please the All-Palace's king.
Su Ming, controlling Stranglehold, flashed a stiff smile, eating up the platitudes and showing appreciation.
He was here for a meal, to hear Ronan's plans, and to gather intel on the cosmos.