Odin, now incredibly thin and exhausted, stood on the balcony of Valaskjálf, the golden winds of Asgard brushing through his white hair as he gazed upon the shining city below.
The halls of the gods stood tall and proud once more, and the scars of the invasion of the fragment had finally healed at the expense of consuming his life force, giving them to Yggdrasil so it can help in rebuilding the realms.
Below, he could see the Bifrost gleaming again, stretching across the sky like a radiant bridge between worlds.
Warriors trained in the courtyards.
Valkyries flew overhead, their wings trailing light.
The golden towers of Asgard hummed faintly with restored divine energy.
He closed his single eye, letting out a slow breath. It had taken a massive amount of his life force and countless sacrifices, along with the cooperation of every god still loyal to their cause, but the Nine Realms were whole again.
