"Heimdall!" he shouted, his voice booming like thunder. "Open the Bifrost!"
The silence that answered was heavy. Thor gritted his teeth, calling again, louder, his voice echoing across realms. "Heimdall! Do you hear me?"
Nothing.
For a moment, his chest tightened with fear. But then—faintly, a ripple of light in the sky. He raised Mjölnir higher, lightning sparking along its edge as he poured his will into the call.
The air cracked. A pillar of rainbow light split the heavens, descending with a roar onto the street. The Bifrost had answered.
Sif and the Warriors Three braced themselves. Alex, calm as ever, rested a hand on his frost familiar as the torrent of light swallowed them all.
—
When the roar faded, they stood upon the golden bridge of Asgard. But it was not as Thor remembered. The air was bitter with cold, the skies dimmed.
At the gate stood Heimdall—not radiant and unyielding, but kneeling, frost still clinging to his form. His breathing was ragged, his body trembling from unseen strain.
Thor rushed to him, dropping to a knee. "Heimdall! Why did you not answer me sooner?"
Heimdall's golden eyes flickered weakly open. His voice was hoarse, heavy with fatigue. "I… could not. Loki's magic binds me. His seal froze my sight, closed the bridge. I fought it… but only now could I break through."
Thor's hand tightened around his shoulder, anger flaring in his eyes. "Loki…"
Heimdall gave a faint nod, forcing his strength into his words. "He has twisted the throne, Thor. You must stop him… before the frost consumes more than me."
Alex's sharp gaze lingered on the runes etched into the frost along Heimdall's armor. He exhaled, then pressed a hand to the familiar's horn. The beast rumbled low, steam curling from its maw.
"Return," Alex said calmly. In an instant, the frost familiar dissolved into mist, slipping back into the depths of its familiar space.
Turning back, Alex placed his palm just above the icy binds. His voice was steady. "Go, Thor. I'll stay here and work on freeing him."
Thor hesitated for only a heartbeat before nodding. Mjölnir hummed with stormlight in his grip. "Very well. Help him, Alex—he is needed."
With that, Thor swung the hammer in a wide arc, the winds screaming to life around him. In a flash of thunder, he launched skyward, streaking across the golden span of the bridge toward the castle where Loki waited.
Alex remained at Heimdall's side, his eyes narrowing on the frost-bound runes. "Let's see who bound you… and why."
Alex lowered his hand over the frozen runes, a whisper of power slipping from his fingers. Darkness stirred—not wild, but controlled, like ink seeping into water. The frost crackled softly as the runes resisted, then dimmed, swallowed piece by piece under his quiet authority.
Heimdall stirred faintly, breath rough. His golden eyes flicked toward Alex. "What… are you doing?"
Alex's tone was calm, almost detached. "Unraveling what binds you. These runes were meant to trap you in eternal stillness. Darkness eats at them more efficiently than fire or storm." His lips curved slightly. "Besides… I need you awake enough to watch what comes next."
Heimdall's gaze sharpened. "You don't trust Thor?"
Alex tilted his head, resting his arm casually across his knee as he sat at Heimdall's side. "I trust him to fight. But Loki is clever. More clever than he is strong. If Thor goes in thinking only of battle, he'll lose. Loki doesn't fight fair."
Heimdall's eyes narrowed, faint cracks of light now spreading across the frozen shell around him. "…You speak as though you've already seen it."
Alex's smile was faint, unreadable. "Let's just say I know how tricksters move. Thor will clash with him soon enough. If Loki can't win… he'll run. And I'm waiting here for that moment."
For a long breath, only the wind moved across the Bifrost. Then Heimdall's voice came, low and grim. "Loki's will is sharper than Thor's. But Thor's heart…" He paused, exhaling slowly. "Thor's heart is heavier than Loki can ever bear."
Alex said nothing more, simply leaning back as if to listen to the distant storm.
—
Meanwhile, across the golden halls of Asgard, Thor strode with Mjölnir in hand. The storm followed him, his boots echoing like thunder down the marble floor.
And at the end of the great hall, seated upon the throne of Odin, waited Loki. A cold smile curved his lips as the doors slammed shut behind Thor.
"Brother," Loki said, voice rich with venom and charm alike. "Welcome home."
Thor's footsteps thundered through the golden hall until he stood before the throne. His voice rang out, sharp as lightning.
"Where is Father?"
Loki leaned back against the throne with a practiced ease, his green robes draped like a king's mantle. His smile was faint, almost mocking. "Father is… resting. The strain of ruling was too much. He has left the throne to me, to guide Asgard in his stead."
Thor's eyes flared with disbelief. "You lie."
The doors behind him opened softly, and a familiar figure hurried in—Frigga. Her face was pale, her eyes heavy with worry, but she moved with her usual grace.
"Thor," she whispered, her voice thick with relief. "You've returned."
He turned toward her, confusion and urgency mixing on his face. "Mother… tell me—where is Father?"
Frigga glanced at Loki, and in her silence, the truth slipped through. Her lips trembled. "…He fell into Odinsleep. His power is drained, and only time may restore him."
Thor's chest tightened, but he steadied himself. "Then why is Loki upon the throne? Why does he claim authority?"
Before Frigga could answer, Loki's voice cut clean through the air, smooth as a blade. "Because someone must rule while Father cannot. Someone who truly sees what threatens Asgard."
Thor stepped forward, his grip on Mjölnir tightening. "And what of the Destroyer? Was it not sent to Midgard to kill me?"
The words hung heavy, echoing through the chamber.
Frigga's breath caught. Her eyes darted toward Loki, as if searching for denial. "Tell me it isn't true," she whispered. "Tell me you did not do this."
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