The Weight of Immortality - CH - 78

Harry had never been one to meddle in the affairs of Earth.

For as long as he could remember, he had made a conscious decision to stay out of the conflicts of nations, governments, and organizations. Wars, politics, military strategies—none of it interested him. He had no allegiance to any country, no loyalty to any government, and no desire to be caught in their endless struggles for power.

Even though he allowed Hela to work with SHIELD, he had never actually cared about the organization. It was her choice, and he respected it, but he never saw it as something he needed to be involved in. He had no love for secret agencies, nor did he trust them. He knew well enough that men like Fury played their own games, always working in shades of gray, always keeping secrets.

That kind of life wasn’t for him.

Harry was content with what he had built for himself.

A small restaurant, tucked away from the chaos of the world, where he could cook, serve food, and enjoy the simple pleasure of watching people eat something they truly loved. He spent his free time working on personal experiments in secret, delving into magic and sciences unknown to the world. His knowledge of magic extended far beyond what anyone on Earth could imagine, and yet, he kept it hidden, using it only when necessary.

And then there was Hela.

Spending time with her, whether it was at their apartment or wandering through the world’s forgotten places, was one of the few things he truly enjoyed. They had long since settled into an unspoken understanding—Hela, with her own ambitions, did what she wished, and he, in turn, lived his life the way he wanted.

But now, things had changed.

Now, Loki was involved.

Now, the Infinity Stones were involved.

And that… that was something Harry couldn’t ignore.

Not because he suddenly cared about SHIELD. Not because he had any loyalty to Earth’s governments.

But because he understood the kind of danger they were facing.

Loki wasn’t the problem. Loki was a problem, but not the problem. The Infinity Stones were a force beyond human understanding, capable of reshaping reality itself. If left unchecked, if wielded by the wrong hands, they could lead to devastation beyond imagination.

And Harry had no intention of sitting back while that happened.

Still, even as the weight of that realization settled on him, he remained reluctant.

He had built a life away from conflict. Away from war. Away from the madness of power struggles.

Did he really want to get involved now?

Standing in the kitchen of their apartment, he absentmindedly chopped vegetables, lost in thought. Hela was lounging on the couch, flipping through an ancient tome she had taken from her personal collection. She glanced up, sensing the shift in his mood.

“You’re thinking about it,” she said simply.

Harry didn’t look up. “Thinking about what?”

Hela smirked. “Getting involved.”

He sighed, setting the knife down. “I don’t want to.”

“But you will.”

He finally turned to face her, his green eyes unreadable. “You sound very sure of that.”

Hela tilted her head. “I know you.” She set the book aside, standing up and walking over to him. “You don’t care about SHIELD, about the Avengers, about politics—but you do care about what those stones can do.”

Harry exhaled slowly. “They shouldn’t be here,” he muttered. “They shouldn’t be in anyone’s hands.”

Hela crossed her arms, watching him. “So? What are you going to do about it?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Because the truth was, he didn’t know yet.

For years, he had been content living quietly, staying out of sight. But the universe didn’t care about his plans. The world didn’t stop moving just because he wanted peace.

And now, it seemed, he was being pulled back into the storm.

It happened so suddenly.

One moment, Harry was in the kitchen, focused on his usual routine, carefully plating a dish with practiced ease. The scent of freshly cooked food filled the small restaurant, mingling with the quiet chatter of the customers enjoying their meals. It was an ordinary day, just like any other.

Then, the screaming started.

At first, it was faint—muffled by the walls of the restaurant. But then it grew louder. The sound of chairs scraping against the floor, of people abandoning their meals as they rushed toward the entrance, trying to see what was happening outside.

Then more screams.

Panic.

Harry frowned, setting his knife down. He could feel the shift in the air, the weight of something unnatural pressing against reality itself. His magic hummed in his veins, responding to the disturbance before his mind could even process it.

Something was wrong.

Stepping out of the kitchen, he barely had time to register the chaos unfolding as customers rushed past him, their faces contorted in terror. Some of them didn’t even stop to explain, their instinct for survival overriding any rational thought.

Harry’s gaze snapped toward the open door.

And then he saw it.

The sky—cracked open.

A massive portal, swirling with unnatural energy, had appeared above the city, stretching impossibly wide. It pulsed with ominous power, like a wound torn in the fabric of the world itself. Through it, something was coming—many things.

The first wave emerged like a tide of nightmares.

Armored warriors, grotesque in form, poured through the rift, descending upon the city in droves. Their movements were inhuman, their weapons glowing with deadly energy as they fired upon anything in sight.

And then came the leviathans.

Massive, whale-like creatures, fully armored and bristling with weapons, glided through the air like harbingers of destruction. Their metallic bodies gleamed under the sunlight, their undersides lined with enormous plasma cannons that unleashed torrents of energy upon the buildings below.

The city erupted into chaos.

Explosions rocked the streets as cars were tossed aside like toys. Fire spread rapidly, smoke rising into the air as terrified civilians ran in every direction, desperately trying to escape the slaughter.

Harry stood frozen for a moment, watching the destruction unfold.

This was it.

This was the moment he had been dreading—the moment he could no longer ignore.

This wasn’t a fight humans could win. This wasn’t a battle where soldiers and guns could hold the line.

If no one stepped in, Earth would fall.

Harry clenched his fists, his magic surging within him.

He had spent so long avoiding the conflicts of this world. He had told himself that he wanted nothing to do with war, with politics, with the struggles of men and their endless battles.

But this?

This was a war for survival.

And he knew—it was time to get involved.

Harry didn’t hesitate.

The moment he saw the devastation unfolding in the city, he knew he had to move—fast.

Without wasting another second, he teleported straight to his apartment. The air around him crackled as he appeared in his private space, heading straight for the old trunk in the corner. He flipped the lid open, revealing a carefully organized interior filled with artifacts, weapons, and enchanted gear he had prepared long ago for a fight he had never expected to happen.

At the very bottom lay what he needed—his enchanted cloak.

It wasn’t just any cloak. Over the years, he had woven countless spells into its fabric, layering protections and enhancements until it was the ultimate tool for battle. It possessed powerful concealment charms that not only shielded his identity but also masked his presence entirely, making it nearly impossible for anyone to track him.

But more importantly, it was equipped.

The cloak contained hundreds of storage spaces, each one housing an enchanted weapon or tool that he had crafted in secret. There were blades designed to slice through the toughest armor, explosive charms that could obliterate entire battle formations, shields that could absorb and redirect magic or energy attacks, and more—every single item meticulously designed for war.

And now?

Now, he needed them.

Throwing the cloak over his shoulders, he pulled the hood over his head, ensuring his face was fully covered. Within seconds, his presence in the world shifted—he was no longer Harry, the man who ran a restaurant. He was a shadow, an unknown force ready to carve through whatever had dared to invade his world.

With a flick of his wrist, he vanished.

Reappearing above the burning city, Harry wasted no time.

The moment his feet touched solid ground, he raised his hand and unleashed hell.

A single powerful cutting curse ripped through the sky like a blade of pure destruction. The spell streaked toward one of the massive leviathans, the enormous, armored whale-like creature that was hovering above the city, raining down plasma fire upon the helpless people below.

The curse hit—and cleaved the beast in half.

For a moment, everything seemed to stop.

The massive creature let out an eerie, metallic groan as its bisected form collapsed, its armor peeling apart as its two halves plummeted toward the ruined streets below. The sheer power behind the spell had shocked everyone.

The Chitauri soldiers halted mid-attack, their grotesque faces twisting in confusion as they turned to look at the unknown figure in the cloak.

Even the Avengers, who were fighting desperately across the battlefield, stopped for just a second.

And in the distance, Hela—watching from the shadows—narrowed her eyes.

She recognized that magic.

A smirk tugged at her lips. So, he finally decided to fight.

Not wasting a second, she leapt into the fray.

Clad in her own disguise, she landed in front of the hooded figure, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “Took you long enough,” she said, her voice carrying a dark edge.

Harry didn’t answer, merely tilting his head toward her.

Hela, ever the warrior, summoned the Necroswords, the black blades forming in her hands with a surge of crackling energy. With a predatory grin, she charged forward, her blades tearing through the nearest wave of Chitauri like a reaper cutting through a field of wheat.

Harry, standing beside her, lifted his hand once more.

This time, multiple weapons materialized from within his cloak—enchanted floating daggers, fire-infused arrows, and a staff brimming with condensed energy.

And then—

He attacked.

Spells and weapons rained down in perfect synchronization with Hela’s merciless assault. Harry’s magic sliced through their alien armor, tore their monstrous bodies apart, and incinerated their forces before they could even react.

Together, the two of them were a force of absolute destruction.

It didn’t take long for the Avengers to realize the truth.

At first, they were confused—who was this mysterious warrior cloaked in magic, tearing through the battlefield with such ruthless efficiency? But as they observed the way Hela fought beside him—without hesitation, without tension, with the ease of a warrior who knew their partner intimately—the realization hit them.

The one in the cloak…

Was Harry.

Hela’s husband.

Thor was the first to react, his wide blue eyes filled with awe and disbelief as he watched his brother-in-law eviscerate another Leviathan with almost casual ease. The sheer power in Harry’s attacks, the sheer destruction left in his wake—it was unlike anything Thor had ever seen from a mortal.

Except now, he knew the truth.

Harry was no mortal.

No simple human could do what Harry was doing.

As for SHIELD—watching through their surveillance feeds, monitoring the battle in real-time—they were utterly stunned.

Even after finding out that Hela was an Asgardian Princess, they had all assumed that her choice to live on Earth was because of Harry—because she had fallen in love with a human. It was a story they had told themselves, one that made sense. A god falling in love with a human was rare but not unheard of.

But now?

Now, they realized how wrong they had been.

That wasn’t a human fighting in the streets below.

That wasn’t some ordinary man wielding stolen magic.

That was a god.

A god of destruction.

Thor, watching Harry cleave through another wave of Chitauri with nothing more than a flick of his fingers, grinned in pure admiration.

"By the Nine…" he muttered, watching as his brother-in-law tore apart another Leviathan like it was made of paper. “He fights with the might of a god.”

Steve Rogers, standing nearby, still trying to process what he was witnessing, gave Thor a sharp look. “He’s supposed to be human.”

Thor let out a booming laugh, shaking his head as he summoned Mjolnir. “Aye, that’s what we all thought.” His blue eyes shone with excitement. “But I see it now. Harry is no mere mortal.”

Tony Stark, having just blown up a squad of Chitauri drones, stared at the destruction Harry was leaving behind. His jaw tightened as he whispered, “I am so outclassed right now.”

Even Natasha Romanoff—who prided herself on being unreadable—couldn’t keep the shock from her expression.

Clint Barton, fully recovered from Loki’s mind control, stood next to her. “Yeah,” he muttered, watching Harry move with a deadly, effortless grace. “That ain’t a human.”

In the distance, Nick Fury—watching through the Helicarrier’s live feed—slowly removed his eyepatch, rubbing his good eye in disbelief.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered.

Meanwhile, down in the battlefield, Hela smirked as she saw the realization dawn on everyone.

Finally, she thought. They see it.

This was her husband.

Not a mere mortal.

Not just a man who ran a restaurant.

This was Harry.

A god in his own right.

And today, the world would witness the true extent of his power.