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... , oppressive weight of Hell was lightening, replaced by the sharp, clean scents of ozone, blood, and divine sweat.

Asmodeus watched it all from his perch on a crumbling archway, his legs crossed elegantly. Below him, the battle was turning into a slaughter. His own forces were in disarray. The stench of dead demons was becoming overwhelming.

His eyes tracked the pairs.

Thor and Loki moved through the chaos like a storm front. They weren’t even talking. They didn’t need to ...

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