After debating to no avail, the command deck came to a grim realization: Thor’s wildly reckless plan was actually their most realistic option.
But it was also the most ruthless.
If they genuinely abandoned their tactical advantage and forced a jump that completely drained their ships’ reactors, Odin, Thor, and the Warriors Three possessed the raw physical strength to survive the ensuing slaughter.
The ordinary Asgardian soldiers, however, would be sacrificed in droves.
That was exactly why Odin and Captain Lucy had vehemently opposed brute-forcing the spatial interdiction to jump directly to the enemy’s doorstep.
Sacrificing that many warriors would severely cripple Asgard’s future grip on the galaxy.
An hour later, Thor threw his hands up in frustration.
“We can’t do this, we can’t do that!
Then how the hell are we supposed to fight?!”
Odin raised his head, his lone eye glaring furiously.
“Shut your mouth!
This isn’t one of your little crusades to put down primitive natives!”
Odin knew full well that his son had enjoyed centuries of smooth sailing, never tasting a single bitter defeat.
Thor was entirely used to bullying technologically inferior worlds.
Over time, that had warped his tactical mindset, leading him to believe that brute force was the ultimate solution to every problem.
In a way, this war was the perfect lesson to finally teach Thor the true, unforgiving cruelty of cosmic warfare.
Hearing his father’s thunderous tone, Thor instantly deflated.
In all of Asgard, the only person he feared more than his mother was Odin.
A tense silence settled over the room once more.
A moment later, Odin opened a quantum communications channel to Heimdall, who was still standing guard at the Bifrost back in Asgard.
“Have the enemy warships moved?”
They possessed quantum entanglement communicators, allowing instant audio transmission across the galaxy, but they lacked quantum holographic projection tech.
To actually survey the enemy fleet in real-time, they had to rely entirely on Heimdall’s divine sight.
Heimdall opened his golden eyes, gazing out into the deepest reaches of the cosmos.
After a long pause, his pupils seemed to dilate, losing focus as his vision stretched across the stars.
“Esteemed All-Father,” he finally replied.
“I only see roughly two thousand warships.
The rest of the armada is unaccounted for.
However… I have spotted something strange.”
Heimdall hesitated.
“What strange things?” Odin pressed.
“They look like massive asteroids, but they are heavily retrofitted with advanced military installations.
I have never seen anything like them.”
Odin’s brow furrowed sharply.
Asteroids with military bases?
What the hell were these invaders playing at?
Weren’t they afraid the local star’s gravitational pull would tear the rocks apart?
He had toyed with the idea of building interstellar asteroid platforms in the past, but the space rocks were simply too geologically unstable.
A single heavy bombardment would shatter them, and powering them was an absolute logistical nightmare.
He had ultimately scrapped the idea.
It seemed this enemy possessed technology advanced enough to overcome those exact engineering hurdles.
Odin’s expression darkened ominously.
He finally understood why the enemy had locked down the space and refused to engage in a head-on clash.
They were buying time to construct those interstellar war platforms.
Severing the connection, Odin turned to Lucy, his voice ringing with absolute authority.
“As your King, I order you to force the hyperspace jump.
Now.”
He was never an indecisive ruler; once his mind was made up, he executed his will without a shred of hesitation.
Lucy instinctively wanted to protest, but seeing the grim, unyielding look on the All-Father’s face, she dropped to one knee.
“Yes, All-Father.”
Hearing the command, Thor excitedly hoisted Mjolnir into the air.
But catching sight of his father’s furious expression, he wisely swallowed back his usual boisterous battle cries.
…
Meanwhile, near the black hole.
Thanos sat on his throne, gripping the Mind Stone as he meditated.
Suddenly, Deep Blue’s holographic avatar materialized in the air.
“Master, we are detecting severe spatial fluctuations near the local star.
Multiple hyperspace rifts are attempting to open.”
Thanos opened his eyes, a cold smile tugging at his lips.
He stood up and looked at the 3D projection.
A violent spatial tear was forming near his position, ripping open a pitch-black gash in the fabric of the universe that swallowed all surrounding light.
However, because of the heavy spatial lockdown, the rift was currently struggling to expand.
It was still far too small to allow a cosmic warship to pass through.
Watching it struggle, Thanos suddenly frowned.
‘Wait.
Even if Odin wants a head-on clash, jumping directly onto my face isn’t brave—it’s just suicide.’
Just as he began to wonder if it was a trap, several more spatial rifts flared to life across the holographic map.
Thanos blinked in surprise before bursting into a low chuckle.
He instantly saw through the tactic.
‘Interesting.
Opening multiple rifts simultaneously so I won’t know your true destination.
A very solid game of smoke and mirrors.’
‘But you severely underestimate the power of technology.’
“Deep Blue,” Thanos commanded.
“Reroute power to maximize the spatial interdiction.
Deploy spatial implosion charges directly into all forming rifts, and blanket their exterior perimeters with cosmic proximity mines.”
Spatial implosion charges didn’t rely on chemical combustion; upon detonation, they triggered a localized spatial collapse, much like the Black Hole Grenades utilized by the Dark Elves, only vastly more devastating.
The cosmic proximity mines were simply the interstellar equivalent of floating landmines—touch them, and they triggered an explosion exponentially more powerful than any conventional warhead.
“Yes, Master,” Deep Blue chimed.
As the commands were relayed from Sanctuary II, several squadrons broke formation.
Simultaneously, the Black Order generals stationed in neighboring sectors mobilized their own fleets.
After all, Odin wasn’t just opening rifts in Thanos’s immediate vicinity; the decoys were spread across multiple neighboring systems as well.
However, it wasn’t the heavy cruisers moving in to intercept—it was the logistical support vessels.
Measuring roughly two hundred meters in diameter, they were perfectly spherical, bristling with various protruding antennae.
In the vacuum of space, where gravity, aerodynamics, and wind resistance were completely irrelevant, starship design didn’t need to be sleek.
Spheres were structurally simple to manufacture and offered optimal armor coverage for the internal core systems, making them the perfect shape for non-combat support craft.
Approaching the struggling spatial rifts, the spherical ships opened their payload bays.
They systematically ejected 2.5-meter black spheres directly into the unstable rifts, while scattering thousands of 1-meter black rings in a wide perimeter around the exits.