Midgard Hunt 4/1

The sky was veiled by ominous, dark clouds that cast a shroud over the sun, blocking out its light. In the distance, a haunting horn resounded, its deep reverberations echoing across the land, heralding the imminent arrival of a formidable presence. Suddenly, with earth-shaking force, Heimdall descended from the heavens, his mighty figure crashing upon the ground and creating a massive crater that sent debris scattering in every direction.

Witnessing Heimdall's dramatic entrance, the Olympian sprang into action. Haemon's mysterious power had rendered Kuat and Shango, the remaining lords, motionless and voiceless, leaving them defenseless as their deranged assailant closed in, brandishing their own stolen spear. Its sharpened tip gleamed menacingly in the dim light, poised to deliver a fatal blow.

Kuat, resigned to his fate, closed his eyes, preparing himself to meet his end and endure the searing pain of the impending strike. Yet, just as the spear was about to descend, Heimdall swiftly intercepted Haemon's attack with his colossal battleaxe. The weapon, nearly as tall as Heimdall himself, moved with lightning speed in his experienced hands, thwarting the imminent danger.

"My apologies for the delay, girls," Heimdall spoke calmly, his deep and assured voice resonating with authority. Addressing Kuat and Shango, relief washed over their faces, though they remained unable to utter a word, as they were saved from certain death.

Heimdall continued, his voice carrying a note of intrigue and anticipation, "You have proven yourselves even more formidable than I had anticipated! Thor should undoubtedly seek counsel from the seer, as his words regarding you proved insufficiently accurate." The luminous purple depths of Heimdall's eyes sparkled with keen interest as if multiple worlds were reflected within them simultaneously.

Haemon, recalling the tale Ulfurun had once shared, finally recognized the peculiar radiance gleaming within Heimdall's eyes. Ulfurun, too, had possessed such extraordinary sight, gifted with the ability to perceive many realms. However, her eyes had been unjustly taken from her by her own nephew, who deemed her unworthy of such a precious gift. Lowering his gaze, Haemon solemnly inquired, "Tell me, Odinson, do you cherish seeing the world through these eyes?"

Heimdall remained silent, but his large hand rose, clenching into a powerful fist that emitted an eerie, dark gray light, crackling with ominous energy. The air filled with the sound of fragile ice breaking on a spring day, and then, with a surge of power, the darkness erupted from Heimdall's fist, liberating Kuat and Shango from the frozen bindings that had paralyzed them.

"Kha, damn it! This wretch has stolen my voice!" Kuat hissed weakly, clutching his throat in anguish. His normally booming voice was now barely above a whisper, and speaking caused him great pain. "What kind of dark magic is capable of such a vile act?" added Shango, coughing heavily and spitting blood onto the snow-covered sand. The effort of talking took a toll on his damaged body.

"Dark elf sorcery! Ha-ha! I wonder who taught you, you outcast, such despicable power? Was it your mistress, Hel, who put effort into teaching you her forbidden arts? Or have you found another dark master to instruct you in the mystic ways?" Heimdall sneered mockingly, his grin wide and repulsive. He took great delight in taunting his opponents, reveling in their humiliation and suffering.

Without hesitation, Haemon and Asir clashed with lightning speed. Haemon thrust his shining spear relentlessly, aiming for Heimdall's head and heart, the purest and most radiant among the Aesir. However, Heimdall effortlessly evaded every attack with seemingly supernatural agility, leaving only ethereal afterimages in his wake. Odin's son seemed capable of anticipating Haemon's every move before he could make it, sidestepping the strikes with inhuman reflexes and grace. Meanwhile, Haemon struggled desperately to keep pace with Heimdall, the difference in speed between them appearing insurmountable. No matter how quickly the Olympian moved, he could not land a single blow on his nimble opponent.

Asir managed to sever a few of Haemon's limbs, relishing the opportunity to verbally and physically humiliate the arrogant warrior. "Did you savor your time with my aunt?" Heimdall taunted the madman, driving his massive axe with such force into Haemon's back that it shattered his spine with a sickening crack. A wild scream of agony escaped Haemon's lips as his body crumpled to the snow. Before losing consciousness, the Olympian conjured numerous towering ice spikes that sprang up around him, forcing Heimdall to momentarily retreat to avoid being impaled. The ice surrounding Haemon was unbelievably thick and dense, reminiscent of the deadly frost magic conjured by Bergelmir during the great battle, which had nearly claimed the lives of Thor and Tyr.

"You certainly didn't learn this from my aunt. I know her capabilities with ice magic and her limits," Asir retorted to Haemon through gritted teeth, irritation and anger flashing in his eyes. He stroked his long beard protruding from under his ornate helmet as he examined the wall of ice blocking his path. Attempting to break through with brute force, Asir channeled his monstrous strength and energy into his massive double-bladed axe. Yet all he managed to do was scratch the outer layer; the weapon couldn't penetrate the dense ice. This fact somewhat disheartened the proud Heimdall, but he did not succumb to despair, for fate had placed someone behind him who possessed the very abilities he currently lacked to overcome this obstacle.

Turning with a wide smile on his face, Heimdall eagerly addressed Kuat, who was still struggling to catch his breath. "Hey, sunny-boy, I could use your help!" Heimdall waved his hand, signaling for Kuat to come closer. Kuat looked at Heimdall with surprise, pointing at himself and asking, "Are you talking to me?"

"Yes, come here!" replied Heimdall, patting his knee as if Kuat were a playful companion. Kuat approached cautiously, still trying to regain his composure. As he walked over, he said, "Just so you know, I'm only doing this out of respect as a guest in your realm."

Annoyed by Heimdall's taunting, Kuat let out a sigh. As he reached Heimdall, he took a moment to fix his disheveled locks of hair. "Don't worry, if you behave yourself, maybe I'll consider giving you a reward," taunted Heimdall. Trying to further antagonize Kuat, Heimdall reached out to mess up his carefully styled hair.

"No thanks!" replied Kuat firmly, swiftly stopping Heimdall's hand before it could touch his hair. "It's not appropriate to leave anyone hungry, especially when you have more than enough," he retorted.

"So it seems you know what it's like to go without a meal," mused Heimdall with a wicked smile. As he tightened his grip on the axe in his hand, his pale skin grew even paler. "Perhaps you should find a new owner, dog?" he continued, clearly aiming to provoke Kuat.

Kuat's anger began to rise at Heimdall's insults. Both of his hands ignited with a brilliant golden light as his intense eyes locked onto the bridge guardian. "Oh, speaking from personal experience, giant?" Kuat shot back in a threatening tone. "Or should I address you as Asir instead?"

The tension between them could escalate into a deadly confrontation with the slightest provocation. However, before things could spiral further, Shango interjected from where he battled the giant serpents. "I don't mean to interrupt your love story, but we have more pressing matters at hand!" he shouted, hurling lightning bolts at the emerging beasts.

In a silent agreement to set aside their quarrel for the time being, both Heimdall and Kuat decided to work together, as if their previous exchange had never occurred. "Unfortunately, it will take me at least an hour or two to melt this much ice," Kuat reported to the group, touching the icy block to assess its temperature with his heated hand.

"Do not stand there like a lazy bum! Take action!" Shango roared with fury, fiercely defending himself and his allies against the relentless horde of snakes attempting to devour them. The intensity of the battle consumed him, causing his eyes to emit crackling lightning, and his muscles swelled to the point of almost bursting with power. Overhead, ominous gray clouds shrouded Midgard, casting its inhabitants into deep darkness. The howling winds whipped fiercely through the air, their piercing cries threatening to drive anyone exposed to madness and deafness if they did not seek shelter from the elements on this apocalyptic day.

Shango swung his mighty arms, hurling bolt after bolt of lightning at the snakes. Their sizzling bodies flew through the air with each strike, yet more kept coming. It seemed the horde was endless. Beside Shango, Heimdall skillfully parried attacks with his glaive, deflecting the weapons that emerged through portals opening across the battlefield. "And what do you say about revealing your true form? It may aid in obliterating this filth!" Heimdall suggested calmly to Shango over the din of battle.

Nearby, Kuat grumbled irritably as he blasted snakes into oblivion, his disapproval evident as he observed the strange magic at work. Various plants had unexpectedly begun sprouting from the ground, entangling those caught unaware in thick vines and toppling trees. "This parasite seems to have acquired some sort of nature magic!" Kuat shouted to his comrades, blasting another wave of snakes. Heimdall came to aid Kuat, swiftly slicing through any flora that came dangerously close to engulfing them. "I shall personally strangle Thor with my bare hands!" Asir whispered fiercely through clenched teeth, focusing intently on the battle at hand but clearly holding someone responsible for this chaos.

The allies fought on desperately, but the snakes just kept coming. How long could they withstand this unrelenting onslaught without aid? Shango began to realize they might have no choice but to unleash their full powers and hope it would be enough to turn the tides in this epic struggle for survival.

******* 

Asgard Golden Castle 

Seated at a grand table, Thor's enjoyment of the roasted lamb was interrupted as a piece went down the wrong pipe. Modi, ever watchful, rushed to his father's aid, preventing an embarrassing moment. "Khah, by the beard of Imir, that damn thing went down the wrong way!" The red-haired giant cursed, pounding his chest to clear his airway. Concerned, Modi asked, "Father, are you alright?" He delivered a cautious pat on Thor's broad back, just in case. Thor stumbled forward slightly from the force of his son's blow, his anger rising. Through clenched teeth, he ordered Modi to quickly vanish from his sight.

Modi was no stranger to his father's fearsome temper. As the youngest of Odin's grandchildren, he looked up to his mighty father Thor but knew well his short fuse. Without hesitation, the young Aesir boy sprung up from the table and hurried away, dodging between the many warriors and gods still feasting. He hoped that putting distance between himself and his father would allow Thor's anger to subside before it exploded. Modi had witnessed Thor's wrath unleashed in battle many times and had no desire to experience it firsthand.

With Modi gone, Thor wiped his mouth with a towel, rising from the table and snatching his beloved hammer, covered in soot and grease. On his way to the door, he locked eyes with Baldur, who radiated a palpable aura of discontent. Baldur's once handsome face, which had charmed many, now resembled the smoldering volcanoes of Muspelheim as his rage simmered just below the surface. The Lord of Spring was deeply displeased by the loss of his children at the hands of an outsider. Adding to his frustration, Odin had denied the invulnerable Aesir the chance to personally confront the killer, favoring his favorite, Heimdall, for the task. Trapped in Asgard under his father's watchful gaze, Baldur struggled to contain his anger, desperately trying not to unleash his fury upon his noisy kin, whose merriment only served to stoke the flames of his wrath.

Thor shook his head, noticing Baldur's turmoil. Glancing at the scar on his stomach, a reminder of his own humiliation, he quickened his pace, determined to reach the gathering he was already significantly late for. "Soon, very soon!" the red-bearded warrior muttered before stepping through the massive door, his resolve undeterred by either his own or Baldur's frustrations.

******* 

Midgard Once A Beautiful Beach 

Kuat hesitated, his hands ablaze with a scorching beam of fire, as he surveyed the repulsive horde of insects, snakes, and carnivorous plants that had overrun the land. The insects swarmed in a massive, dark cloud, blotting out the sun, while their incessant chittering and buzzing filled the air. Snakes of all sizes slithered across the ground and through the trees, their forked tongues sampling the air. Vines and tendrils from the carnivorous plants ensnared anything within reach, their gaping, fanged mouths snapping at the slightest movement.

"Are you certain about this?" Kuat questioned Heimdall. "If I unleash this fire, it will surely consume everything it touches. The insects, snakes, and plants are just a fraction of what will be destroyed."

"Yes, proceed!" Heimdall responded promptly.

"But if we proceed, the entire world, along with its people, will be engulfed in flames!" Kuat whispered uncertainly, his gaze fixed upon his blazing hands. The power to wield such devastation both awed and terrified him.

"Do not concern yourself with that!" Heimdall reassured him. "And you, Shaman, assume your true form if you wish to survive!" With his luminous eyes that perceived all things and his resonant voice that carried for miles, he directed his gaze heavenward and declared, "Bifrost!"