“Quite an interesting sword you have there, Morrigan,” Loki’s distant voice said, still refusing to reveal himself.

  “This sword is called Dyrnwyn—a Welsh blade that once belonged to a Brythonic king named Rhydderch. When I use my totema, I can replicate sacred and complex artifacts… even legendary weapons,” Ana replied, raising her sword to the sky.

  “And if you call me by that name again, I’ll cut your tongue out, wretch.”

  Ana took flight using her dark wings and slashed through the air. The strike flew like a wave of energy and sliced across Fenrir’s snout, leaving a deep cut. The wolf howled with terrifying force.

  (Image created with Gemini AI for illustrative purposes only)

  Fenrir fired a beam of energy from his jaws, which Ana dodged with ease.

  “Is that all you’ve got?” she taunted as she darted toward the enormous beast and cut off one of its fangs.

  The wolf attempted to crush her with a massive swipe, but her wings transformed into a shield as she whispered:

  “Sciath dorcha (Dark cover).”

  The colossal blow was repelled.

  “These wings are forged from dark matter. They take any shape I want them to,” Ana said as her wings returned to their original form.

  Then her wings shattered into thousands of feathers—each turning into a dagger-like projectile.

  They rained onto the beast, piercing Fenrir’s hide as he howled in agony. A fresh pair of wings formed on Ana’s back.

  “Is this the creature destined to kill Odin? Is Ragnarok nothing but propaganda from Lel to scare the Norse gods?” the goddess wondered, disappointed.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “A children’s tale, perhaps—though if something inspires fear in gods and humans alike, I welcome it,” Loki replied.

  “But you underestimate my son, arrogant goddess.”

  Fenrir snapped his jaws—not touching her—but Ana suddenly felt her body being shredded. Invisible fangs tore through her, and she crashed bleeding into the snow.

  “What the hell was that? I didn’t see anything…” she muttered as she forced herself up, her wounds slowly knitting back together.

  Fenrir snapped again at empty air—yet the invisible bite crushed her once more. She screamed, struggling uselessly as blood spilled from fresh wounds.

  “My precious Fenrir doesn’t need to touch you. If you’re within his sight, he can tear you apart,” Loki said, his voice echoing.

  “Well then… no choice. I’ll have to use that,” Ana growled.

  She shouted:

  “Taibhse banríon (Ghost Queen)!”

  Her body exploded into a cloud of ravens—hundreds of them—escaping the wolf’s invisible attacks.

  Fenrir tried biting the flock, but every bird he caught dissolved into countless feathers.

  The swarm closed in on him, slashing like miniature blades.

  The wolf staggered backward, roaring as he was torn apart by the murderous cloud.

  At last the ravens converged, reforming Ana right in front of Fenrir’s muzzle.

  With a clean, brutal swing, she sliced off another fang—and part of his upper jaw.

  “I told you—no behemoth can defeat a goddess of war,” she declared as she hovered above him.

  Fenrir’s movements became erratic—so fast he seemed to have multiple heads at once. He fired beams of energy wildly, but Ana evaded them as though teleporting.

  Her wings conjured blades again, plunging into the wolf’s eyes. Fenrir’s shrieks shook the mountains.

  “Good. Now for your head,” Ana said, gripping her sword in both hands to deliver the killing blow—

  —but Fenrir, with terrifying speed, caught her in his physical jaws this time.

  She fought to break free—but the wolf’s strength was overwhelming.

  “I’ll have to become ravens again—!” she thought.

  But Fenrir opened his maw and vomited a massive beam of destructive energy directly onto her.

  The goddess crashed head-first into the ground.

  When she managed to stand, she realized the wolf had torn one of her legs clean off—and it was not regenerating.

  “He’s… strong. Unquestionably strong,” she muttered, using Dyrnwyn as a crutch.