4 Training 2
Thor's eyes glowed with otherworldly brilliance as he continued to channel the thunder through his fist. The memories of Mjolnir's strikes guided him, but now, it was his physical strength, unaided by the enchanted hammer, that fueled the creation of the tempest. The godly power he wielded resonated with the memories of battles fought and victories won.
As the storm gathered above, bolts of lightning crackled across the darkened sky. The air became charged with electricity, and Thor's silhouette was outlined by the pulsating energy that surrounded him. The thunderstorm, a manifestation of his godly might, grew in intensity, echoing the power that had vanquished foes and conquered realms.
Thor's movements became a rhythmic dance, each punch sending shockwaves into the sky.
The storm responded in kind, unleashing torrents of rain that danced with the crackling lightning. The very ground beneath Thor's feet vibrated with the resonance of his power.
With each thunderous punch, Thor honed his ability to command the storm.
The storm became an extension of Thor's will, a manifestation of the godly power that coursed through his veins.
As the training session reached its zenith, Thor unleashed a final, titanic punch into the heart of the storm. The sky responded with a crescendo of thunder, and lightning danced across the darkened sky in a dazzling display of celestial power. The storm, now at its peak, seemed to acknowledge Thor's mastery over the forces of nature.
Breathing heavily, Thor lowered his fist, the storm gradually subsiding as the energy within him began to settle. The memories of the training session, the echoes of thunder and the crackling lightning lingered in the air like a testament to the godly strength that had been unleashed.
As Thor stood amidst the aftermath of the tempest, a sense of accomplishment filled him. The memories of battles and the lessons learned during his training on the desolate planet had forged a connection to the primal forces that defined his existence. The storm, now dissipated, left in its wake a god more attuned to the cosmic currents that would shape his destiny.
After resting for a while Thor decided that it was time to eliminate Surtur.
He called out to Heimdall.
Heimdall! I seek passage to the fiery realm of Muspelheim. I must confront Surtur and put an end to his threat. Thor said out loud knowing Heimdall was observing him.
Heimdall, with his piercing golden eyes, turned to face the God of Thunder. The Observatory's light reflected off his armor, giving him an otherworldly glow.
Thor, son of Odin, your path is treacherous. The fires of Muspelheim are not to be taken lightly. Why do you venture into such perilous lands? He said.
Surtur has grown too powerful. If I do not face him now, his flames will consume all the realms. As the guardian of the Bifrost, you must aid me in reaching his lair.
Heimdall's gaze remained steadfast, but a hint of concern flickered in his eyes.
Your determination is undeniable, Thor. But Muspelheim is a realm of chaos, and its ruler, Surtur, is a force to be reckoned with. Are you prepared for the challenges that await you?
(grinning) I have faced the most formidable foes across the Nine Realms. Surtur will be no different. Now, open the Bifrost and send me to his lair.
Heimdall nodded, acknowledging Thor's resolve. With a wave of his hand, the Observatory's controls lit up, and the Bifrost's energies hummed to life.
Very well, Thor. I shall grant you passage to Muspelheim. But be cautious, for the flames that burn there are unlike any you have encountered.
The Bifrost's radiant beam engulfed Thor, transporting him through the cosmos. As the vibrant colors of the interdimensional bridge surrounded him, Thor felt the intense heat even before arriving in Muspelheim.
[The next chapter will be an action type with fights, it's my first time writing a fight scene. Don't get your hopes up, alright.]
