"BOOM!"
Dazzling golden light scattered the dark sky — the war between Asgard and Jotunheim had begun!
"BOOM!"
"BOOM!"
"BOOM!"
Deafening explosions rang out in succession, scorching artillery fire and the sounds of slaughter composing a soul-stirring symphony.
Above the sky, a projection slowly materialized.
Anyone still outside anywhere in the world could look up and witness this unbelievable divine phenomenon.
Indeed — a divine phenomenon!
No nation on Earth currently possessed such technology, capable of projecting a cinematic war across the skies of the entire globe.
In a small, nameless town in Lighthouse Land, Thor and the Warriors Three — his friends who had supported him — sat inside what appeared to be a run-down tavern.
The air was thick with smoke and the fragrance of malt.
Thor and the others ignored the strange looks from those around them, drinking freely from their cups.
Had it not been for Darcy's sudden cry of alarm — and the reactions of those nearby — they might have remained lost in their revelry.
"Oh, shit."
"If this is real, I think I'm starting to believe you guys."
Before Thor, Jane, and Sif could react with anything but confusion, Darcy pointed toward the door.
Though the tavern's roof offered some shelter, their sharp vision allowed them to see most of the projection in the sky.
It was a scene that seemed to fuse technology and myth.
Ancient-looking ships flew across the sky, their hulls firing massive sci-fi laser beams. On the ground stood colossal pale-blue beasts.
Perched atop one of them was a pale-blue-skinned humanoid with an almost alien appearance.
Opposing them were fully-armed soldiers clad in golden armor, fighting desperately to cut them down.
Cold weapons. Monsters. Ships. Lasers.
Had this scene appeared in a movie theater instead of the sky, everyone would have applauded its brilliance.
"Asgard and Jotunheim are fighting?"
Incredulity filled Thor's eyes. His wine glass slipped from his hand and shattered on the floor without him noticing. He rose and walked — trembling — toward the tavern door.
No mistaking it. Absolutely no mistaking it.
Those were Asgard's warriors!
But why would Asgard be at war with Jotunheim?
And on Midgard of all places?
Thor looked on, his gaze clouded with confusion. He turned to face Volstagg, Fandral, and the others.
"Weren't you people telling me that Loki was lying?"
"Father is still alive — he would never permit war between Jotunheim and Asgard!"
He still remembered when Loki had come to him that day. Gungnir, the spear of eternity, in his hand. A confidence on Loki's face Thor had never seen before. And he had even lifted Mjolnir.
"Live well here on Midgard."
That was what Loki had told him.
"You, who were exiled by Father and have yet to recover your strength, are no longer fit to be king of Asgard."
"What Father needs is the God of Thunder, not the God of the Hammer."
"I have become the new king of Asgard. Father has already departed."
"I will inherit Father's will and defend Asgard's glory."
At the time, Thor had not doubted a single word. Not only did Loki hold Gungnir — the symbol of Odin's authority — but he had lifted Mjolnir.
The Loki of old had never been able to lift Mjolnir!
Unless he had received Odin's approval—
The God of the Hammer?
That was his father's assessment of him. And he had no grounds to refute it.
Without that hammer, what did he have beyond the physical resilience inherent to the Asgardian bloodline?
Later, Volstagg, Sif, and the others had come to him and revealed everything: this was all Loki's scheme. Odin was still alive. Loki was merely acting as regent.
He had never received Odin's approval.
The warriors of Asgard and Heimdall alike supported Thor as the rightful king — not Loki.
Everything Loki had told him was merely an attempt to crush him, to make him abandon all claim to Asgard's throne.
But why Loki had been able to lift Mjolnir, they did not know.
No doubt some underhanded trick had been used.
After all — Loki was the greatest sorcerer in the Nine Realms.
Thor had believed them. He had sworn he would earn Odin's approval and become a true God of Thunder, not a mere God of the Hammer.
But now, having confronted Volstagg and the others, he looked again at the war between Jotunheim and Asgard projected across the sky — and found himself almost incapable of thought.
Volstagg and the others exchanged glances. They, too, had no idea what was happening.
Why had Asgard suddenly gone to war with Jotunheim?
Why was the battlefield on Midgard?
Why was a projection of their battle appearing in the sky?
"Loki…"
Thor's murmur drew their attention back to the sky — to that magnificent figure wrapped in a green cloak, his bearing the very picture of noble authority. The spear in his hand blazed with dazzling golden light.
Without question, anyone could see he was a being of the highest station!
And his opponent was another creature — the tallest, the most grotesque monster of them all.
Though Loki still carried himself with a king's dignity, his body was already covered in wounds. They healed rapidly, yes — but the blood that had spilled could never be wiped away.
"Is that Loki?"
"That's Loki?"
The first was Volstagg and the others, their voices sharp with shock. The second was Jane, her tone one of pure bewilderment.
"Impossible — this has to be an illusion!"
"There's no way Loki would be on the front lines, battling Frost Giants like this!"
Hogun's voice was laced with disbelief.
"There's nothing impossible about it."
Volstagg's eyes remained fixed on the sky projection.
If it were an illusion, it should have dissolved the moment it took a blow — not respond to attacks like a real body.
Even if those watching the projection could be deceived, could Laufey — standing at the heart of the battle — not feel the truth?
"That's not the point!"
Anxiety and panic seized Sif's face.
"Our people are giving everything they have fighting Jotunheim — and what are we doing? Standing here, useless, watching!"
"Can we find a way there?"
"We're Asgard's warriors! We should be fighting alongside them, bleeding with them!"
Warriors of Asgard — how could they simply stand by and watch their own people fight and bleed?
If they did nothing, what did that make them?
Cowardly soldiers? Deserters?
No!
Absolutely not.
"But—"
Hogun started to speak — but Jane's sharp cry and Thor's voice cut him off mid-sentence.
He quickly turned his gaze skyward. His pupils dilated in an instant.
A sharp claw pierced clean through Loki's heart.
Crimson blood poured down his chest. The searing agony drew a gasp from Loki — his body buckled, strength draining in a single heartbeat. He nearly collapsed, only catching himself by gripping Gungnir with white-knuckled desperation.
(This chapter is complete.)
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