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Odin raised his voice and the entire hall fell silent; no guard dared move.
—Why have you returned? —he roared, fixing his gaze on them both—. Are you here to challenge me again? To keep disappointing your own father?
He rose with a movement that made the throne creak. Gungnir sprang from his hand with a hum that ran through the foundations of Asgard; the spear's tip shone with a light that lit the entire throne room.
—I am tired of you, traitors of Asgard! —he bellowed—. I will not allow this desecration to continue!
Before Vidar could answer, Hela stepped forward. Her eyes flashed with absolute hatred; she raised both hands and, with a snap, split the darkness in two. From nowhere, two swords black as night appeared. They surged toward Odin as if possessed of a will, striking with ferocious intent.
The blades clashed against the energy of Gungnir, sending sparks that bathed the hall in a sinister glow. Hela attacked without pause: thrust after thrust, an assault meant not only to wound the body but to shatter the authority of the All-Father.
Vidar watched from the shadows, imposing and calm, measuring each blow with the precision of one who knows the scales of fate. He did not interfere; he let the storm unfold. He knew it must either break or be consummated.
At one point he stepped out of the line of fire and slipped through the palace corridors until he found Frigga, who had remained on the stairs, holding herself with the composure of a queen now bleeding inwardly. Her hands trembled barely; her eyes reflected pain and pity.
Vidar stood before her, voice cold but without bitterness.
—What will you do, Mother? —he asked—. And what will you two do? Odin… he may die, despite his strength. His pride is the hardest part of him, but the wounds they inflict today will leave scars time cannot heal.
Frigga looked at him with tears threatening to break her composure, yet she maintained the elegant calm that always defined her.
—My son… —she said softly—. I am a mother before I am a queen. I will not let my family be destroyed without trying to reconcile them. Odin is my husband, and though my heart aches for this, I still believe there is a part of him that can return.
Vidar inclined his head slightly, and his golden eyes flashed with a determination that would chill the blood of anyone who met his gaze.
—Hela grows ever more powerful while she is in Asgard —he murmured—. Here, her strength increases. She has my support… but I tell you this also: if you try to stop us out of blind loyalty to Odin, you might die attempting the impossible. I do not threaten you—never would I—but I warn you, mother, with the only coldness I know: the truth.
Frigga turned her gaze away, torn between her love for Odin and this son who seemed more a cosmic entity than a creature born of her.
Meanwhile, Hela kept pressing. Her swords found every possible gap in Odin's defense, and the impact rang through the palace. The guards, full of fear, were incapable of intervening.
Vidar shifted his attention to Thor; his voice sounded calm as he spoke.
—Thor… Odin and Frigga have deceived you your whole life. And you—Loki—I'm surprised you haven't noticed, given how clever you are.
Thunder split a section of the royal hall of the god of the hammer; Thor frowned, bewildered.
—What do you mean? —Thor replied, gripping Mjolnir's handle tightly—. Explain yourself, brother!
Vidar watched them in silence for a few seconds, a barely visible flash of compassion in his eyes.
—Perhaps one day you will understand —he answered at last, in a low voice—. And on that day… I will tell you myself. Do not forget, Thor: I am your brother.
A murmur spread quickly among the warriors in the hall. Odin fixed his stare on Vidar; his fury erupted, while Hela smiled, savoring the fissure opening within the royal family.
Vidar continued, his voice taking on the authority befitting a god.
—I did not come here for that reason alone. Odin possesses something that has been destabilizing the balance of the universe. Something that should not remain in the grasp of anyone's greed or jealousy. And who is a better candidate to possess it than the one who controls the balance? —his words struck with the precision of a spear—. I do not seek small kingdoms or empty titles. I seek what can mend a broken galaxy. I seek to restore the scales where they themselves were shattered.
Frigga emitted a muffled sob, a mixture of surprise and guilt; Odin looked like a wounded colossus, unable to hide the tremor of his jaw. Loki tilted his head, both surprised and curious, searching his brother's expression for truth or trap.
—Do you think you can come and decide for everyone? —snorted Odin, striving to compose his rage—. That you can take what is mine by right?
Vidar took a step forward, the shadow of his figure lengthening across the golden floor.
—I did not come to take by whim. I came to correct an imbalance that you, in your zeal to impose order, allowed. And if that means I must stand against my own blood, so be it. But before you judge me, look at the consequences of your decisions: worlds collapsing, tilted balances, lives paid for. Who deserves to safeguard that which decides fate if not the one who understands Balance at its root
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