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The banquet wasn't firing up until nightfall, so Thor and the crew dragged Aidan on a whirlwind tour of Asgard. They hit the streets, weaving through vibes straight out of ancient Nordic legends—not from the towering buildings, but the locals shouting greetings to Thor. Folks rocked leather tunics, knee-length capes with frayed edges, simple and rugged, no fancy stitches or frills.
As Odin's son and the God of Thunder, Thor got mad respect—smiles everywhere, crowds parting like he owned the place. The architecture mixed epic classic vibes with high-tech glow: massive bridges linking mountain peaks, everything broad and unbreakable.
"Whoa!" They rolled up to Asgard's heart—the tallest golden palace, Odin's crib. Aidan paused on the entrance corridor, flanked by golden knights gripping massive axes and swords, helmets topped with wicked horns. Their armor gleamed like liquid sun, towering figures radiating pure power. From here, gold dominated everything, hitting Aidan's eyes like a treasure vault explosion.
They breezed past the grand main hall into a cozy side chamber.
"Come on in! I've got fruit wine that'll knock your boots off—give it a shot?" Volstagg charged to the table, pouring Aidan a glass of deep purple brew that swirled invitingly.
Aidan took a swig. "Hmm... kinda bitter, but there's a sweet kick at the end."
"Hah! As long as it goes down smooth! This won't floor you anyway. When you're ready for the real fire, I'll hook you up with the strong stuff," Volstagg grinned, piling more fruits onto platters.
"This is perfect for me—I'm not big on booze," Aidan said with a smirk, sipping again.
"How can a warrior shun the drink? That blaze in your gut—no true fighter turns it down!" Thor declared, slamming his mug back in one go. Even Sif downed hers like a boss.
"Fair enough," Aidan shrugged, chuckling.
"By the way," Thor leaned in, popping a grape, "this Space Bridge of yours—can it truly leap between stars, as you claimed?"
"Absolutely," Aidan said, swallowing a mouthful of fruit. "Stack enough pillars, and you could teleport a whole planet. But that's risky as hell—could wipe the thing out if it goes wrong."
"Destroy a planet? Such might!" Sif's eyes widened. She knew the Rainbow Bridge packed similar punch from its raw energy core.
"No big deal—destruction's easy; just hit the weak spot. Creation? That's the real grind. Odin straight-up built Asgard from scratch," Aidan said, shaking his head.
"Yet Midgard's craft has ascended to this pinnacle," Hogun rumbled, impressed.
"Once he sets it up, no more dragging through space on ships. We waste more time traveling than clashing blades," Volstagg griped, clearly over the endless voyages.
"Aye, with this, the rebellions shall crumble swiftly," the others nodded, feeling the burn. Then a black streak zipped by like a shadow assassin.
"Fandral, keep that flying toy out of my beard!" Volstagg yelped, swatting at the air as the sword nearly nicked him.
"What's the harm in testing my new blade? Hogun, care for a spar?" Fandral challenged, eyes gleaming—maybe the wine, maybe the thrill of fresh steel.
"Bring it!" Hogun chugged his drink, slamming the mug down. The silver orb on his arm liquefied, flowing like mercury into a brutal mace. "Have at thee!" He charged, swinging the weapon with earth-shaking force—bam!—the impact cratering the floor as magic runes flared, boosting its weight to bone-crushing levels.
Clang! Fandral's flying sword streaked in like a missile. Hogun blocked with a thunderous clash, yanking the mace back and spinning it into a whirlwind shield, airtight and relentless. But defense wasn't his game—he morphed it mid-swing into a wicked sickle, charging Fandral with slashing arcs that whistled through the air.
Fandral danced back, his own blade zipping to his hand, expanding to full size. He parried with precision, swordplay a blur of feints and counters, metal screaming on metal in a rapid-fire symphony that echoed off the walls.
Aidan and the others leaned in, hearts racing, cheering at every close call. The fight heated up—Hogun's sickle morphing wildly: axe for brutal chops, shield for ironclad blocks, even spear thrusts poking from the edges. He bulldozed forward, forcing Fandral into a desperate retreat, the air thick with tension and the scent of sweat.
Fandral leaped high, twisting mid-air for a diving stab at Hogun's back. Hogun spun low, shield morphing to spear—thrusting upward in a deadly spike! No dodging in mid-jump... but Fandral's sword runes ignited, yanking him into a aerial flip, evading by inches. He looped around, blade flashing like lightning, stabbing at Hogun's flank.
Hogun dropped and rolled, slamming his shield down to pin the sword—crunch! Fandral charged in with a boot aimed to crush, but Hogun evaded, freeing the blade. They squared off again, breaths heavy, grins fierce.
"Brilliant!" Volstagg roared, toasting with a swig. It was just a friendly bout—they traded a few more blows before calling it, slapping backs and returning to the table, buzzing with adrenaline.
"This weapon's a beast!" Fandral beamed, stroking his sword like a prized pet. He raised a glass to Aidan. "A toast to thee!"
Hogun joined, clinking mugs. "My thanks—'tis a fine gift." The group dove into stories and laughs, keeping the energy high for their Midgard guest.
As evening hit, the real banquet kicked off. Thor led the way through twisting corridors to a massive hall like a glowing cathedral.
"Enter, and bask in Asgard's fire!" Thor said, shoving Aidan inside with a playful push.
The place was mood-lit with flickering candles, a long table groaning under feasts of roasted meats and overflowing platters. At the head sat an old warrior with a gray beard, black eyepatch, and casual robes—Odin. Beside him, a graceful woman in light green, radiating warm elegance—Frigga.
"Hail! Take thy seats!" Odin waved them over. They grabbed spots, and Aidan was hunting for one when—
"Child, come hither—let me behold thee," Frigga called, her voice soft and inviting.
Aidan paused, shot Thor a quick glance, then headed her way.
"With our guest arrived, let the feast commence!" Odin declared, signaling the start.
"Greetings, All-Father Odin, Queen Frigga. I'm Aidan Parker, mage of Kamar-Taj," Aidan said, bowing with a crisp salute.
"The Ancient One spoke of thee—a prodigy hungry for wisdom," Frigga said kindly, taking his hand and guiding him to sit beside her. Odin gave a nod.
"Spot on," Aidan said, settling in. "Knowledge and power? They fuel me—and let me shield what matters, dodge the heartbreaks."
"A noble path. Thou shalt study magic with me; 'twill be enlightening," Frigga smiled, eyeing the kid who, to her ancient eyes, was basically a toddler.
"Lad, I recall my Destroyer remains in thy keeping?" Odin asked suddenly, fixing his one eye on Aidan.
"Uh... yeah. The metal's wild—I wanted to poke at it." Please don't ask for it back...
"Fear not. Thor gifted it; I shan't reclaim what is given," Odin said, reading Aidan's face like a book. Stingy? Not the Lord of the Nine Realms.
"Heh..." Aidan forced a laugh. Then why bring it up?
"'Tis a treasure from my vaults. I seek thy Space Bridge secrets. In trade, choose an item from my hoard." The Bridge's loss exposed weaknesses; Aidan's tech could patch them. Better to own the know-how than rely on installs.
"Alright..." Aidan mulled it over. "You want single-unit or full array?"
"Elaborate," Odin said, intrigued.
"Single pillar handles creatures and gear. Array? Hundreds to thousands of pillars, plus a main one—scales to teleport planets."
"Teleport planets?!" Odin's eye widened in shock.
"Yep, but watch out—if the main pillar gets wrecked mid-op, space collapses and nukes the target." Aidan explained—it doubled as a stellar bomb if aimed right.
"How didst thou forge such a wonder?" Odin pressed.
"Started with space tech pre-magic—could move stuff, not living things. Magic portals inspired the upgrade. Singles first, then arrays by accident."
"Hast thou tested it?"
"Totally. Learned the dangers the hard way, teleporting a junk planet."
Odin went quiet, pondering. Simpler than the Rainbow Bridge, no Asgard drain, planet-busting potential... and teleporting worlds? Perfect for dodging Ragnarok. Trade? The Casket of Ancient Winters fit—valuable, but expendable.
"Let us feast first; talks can wait," Frigga interjected, pouring wine. "Thine is fruit brew—thou art yet so young," she added to Aidan with a sigh, filling his glass.
"Thanks," Aidan said, grabbing it quick.
"Hey, Aidan—join the fun!" Fandral hollered, surrounded by giggling ladies, dazzling them with sword tricks and charm. His flying blade danced, drawing oohs and aahs.
Aidan wandered over—and instantly regretted it. The crowd of women swarmed him, chattering nonstop. He unleashed some mechanical pets to distract them, tiny bots zipping around like playful drones. Sif jumped in, laughing.
After what felt like forever, Aidan broke free from the perfumed chaos—fun, but suffocating. If it wasn't for needing air, he might've stayed trapped longer.
Some motivation for you guys
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