On one side, Ronan was all about that "open-hearted" honesty.
On the other, Hela had no choice but to "meet him halfway" in kind.
Even though she was fighting back with every ounce of her strength, the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak were tougher than she'd bargained for.
Under the insane tug-of-war between them, those red chains didn't just hold—they didn't even think about snapping.
If anything, they felt like they were tightening up.
But even so, Hela was still holding her own against Ronan.
Aside from that first sucker punch Ronan landed, they'd been pretty much dead even the whole time.
More importantly, as Hela got the hang of this power, it was probably Ronan's turn to eat some dirt.
After all, Hela's got that "divine-body" thing going for her.
Sure, Ronan's body had been juiced up by dark energy, but he had one big flaw.
He wasn't slugging it out with raw muscle—he was leaning on his mind and magic to tangle with Hela.
So, no way was Ronan looking to "go all day" with her.
Thing is, before Ronan could make his next move, Hela beat him to the punch.
She didn't know how long Ronan could keep this up or what his whole "open your heart" deal was about.
But she did know it wasn't anything good.
So, she wasn't about to let this drag on.
With a flicker of her will, the two longswords she'd ditched on the ground earlier shot up, zooming straight for Ronan's back.
In Hela's mind, Ronan had two options.
Get skewered by the swords or drop the tug-of-war.
But she forgot one thing—Ronan's got a trash-talking, trouble-making clone!
No, scratch that—more than one!
Feeling the twin danger vibes closing in from behind, Ronan didn't hesitate, splitting off two clones on the spot.
Sure, he could've whipped out some energy lashes, but in a fight this intense, they wouldn't do jack.
Clones were the steadier play.
With Ronan's call, two clones popped up behind him.
One left, one right, perfectly positioned to block the incoming swords.
"Two?"
Hela squinted—she'd misjudged how many clones Ronan could crank out.
She knew he had the clone trick up his sleeve, but two solid clones? That was news to her.
Yup, these were the real deal.
If they were just illusions, there's no way she'd have gotten her face yanked earlier.
The two clones synced up like pros, throwing up the Crimson Cosmos of Cyttorak—total main-body vibes, steady as hell!
The swords slammed into the shields and got bounced back hard.
But then, black spikes erupted from the ground, swallowing Ronan and both clones in a heartbeat!
The clones vanished in a puff.
Ronan's real body got flung skyward, barely dodging the hit.
The cost? His third clone bit the dust.
Sure, Ronan could summon clones endlessly, but each one chewed up a chunk of his mental juice.
His mind was strong as hell, but with Infinity Stones still on the table, he decided to hold off on more clones.
In a fight this high-stakes, those two were just meat shields and cannon fodder anyway.
Whoosh!
Hela wasn't giving Ronan a second to think, though.
The moment he hit the air, those two swords came screaming back.
At the same time, Ronan finally pried open Hela's "embrace."
"Go!"
With a low shout from Ronan, the ground around Hela erupted with raw power.
Golden lightning exploded from all sides, slamming into her chest and back like a thunderclap!
Boom!
As the lightning blast went off, Hela's two swords stabbed into Ronan's back.
Without a second thought, the Eye of Agamotto flared up on his chest.
Green light poured into him, and time around Ronan started rewinding slow.
The swords pulled out of his body, the sprayed blood sucked back in.
His pierced flesh snapped back to normal.
Bang!
Ronan knocked the swords away, then floated down easy.
You could see it—his face looked rougher than before.
Same old story: using the Infinity Stones isn't free.
Past Sorcerers Supreme mostly used the Time Stone to peek at Earth's future, steering it clear of doom.
Rewinding time? They barely touched that.
Everyone knew the cost of messing with the Time Stone was steep.
Ronan could use it this much thanks to the Dark Dimension's power tweaking his body.
Add his already beefy mental strength, and he dodged a lot of the fallout.
Even then, spamming time powers like this was begging for time to bite back.
But that's future Ronan's problem—right now, his only target was Hela.
As the blast's smoke cleared, Hela—who'd taken the Thunder of Bossat head-on—started coming into view.
No… something's off!
Hela's state wasn't right!
Sure, the Hela in front of him was hurt—badly, by the looks of it.
But it wasn't what Ronan had pictured.
The Thunder of Bossat might sound like just a lightning strike.
But it's not some basic physical hit—it's Bossat's divine power.
The lightning's just the wrapper.
If divine power hit her and she's still only this banged up, Ronan'd have to rethink how tough Hela really is.
"So, all that arm-wrestling was just to keep me distracted."
"You had it planned from the start—win or lose the tug-of-war, once you set up that lightning, your real attack was locked and loaded."
Hela clutched her chest, her face visibly paling.
Looks like she didn't fully dodge Ronan's hit.
She'd pulled some trick to shrug off part of the damage, but some of that divine power still tagged her.
Ronan didn't say a word—just grinned, hands sliding into a slow seal.
Above Hela's head, a longsword took shape.
The Sacred Sword of Vishanti.
As it formed, Ronan glanced at Hela, his right index finger flicking downward.
In a flash, the Sacred Sword of Vishanti plunged into Hela's skull.
The blade sliced from her head straight through her body like it was cutting tofu.
Hela's eyes went wide, like she couldn't believe it.
Seeing this, Ronan couldn't help but let out a sigh.
Hela's dead, just like that?