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The man had dark skin and spoke slowly, yet every word carried weight, instilling a sense of solemnity.
Arthur stared at him for a moment before realization dawned. "Heimdall? I almost didn't recognize you without your helmet. With the Bifrost closed, after all these years, you could call this an extended vacation, right? Why not take the time to find someone to date instead of coming here to chat with me?"
"..."
Heimdall clicked his tongue. "It seems having a serious conversation with you is impossible."
"We can always talk about something inappropriate instead," Arthur grinned.
Heimdall let out a long sigh at Arthur's carefree demeanor. "I'm not here to stop you, but I truly believe what you're doing is reckless."
Arthur furrowed his brows, then let out a slow breath. "Even off duty, you're still keeping an eye on everything. Old habits die hard, huh? But I have to admit, I'm surprised you came here yourself. I figured you'd report straight to Odin."
Heimdall remained silent, his piercing gaze fixed on Arthur.
Arthur stared back, the atmosphere growing heavier, until he finally sighed. "You're not reporting me— you came here just to warn me? So, do you have a better plan?"
Heimdall still didn't answer.
Arthur scratched his head, frustrated. 'What was this guy getting at?'
Just as he was about to press him further, Heimdall suddenly turned away. "I hope that one day, we do not stand on opposite sides."
With that, he strode off without another word.
"..."
Arthur was left standing there, utterly baffled. "Huh?"
'What the hell was that supposed to mean?'
'You come all the way here just to be cryptic?'
After racking his brain and getting nowhere, Arthur let out an exasperated sigh and summoned his spaceship. "Damn it, what a weirdo."
With a swift movement, he stepped inside, glancing around the cockpit. The worn marks on the control panel and the scratches on the side consoles— reminders of long, uneventful flights— still remained.
"I wonder if Star-Lord would cry if he saw how I've treated his ship."
Shaking his head, he refocused.
Three figures lay motionless beside him— Thor, Loki, and Jane.
To be honest, they were much easier to deal with lying down than standing up.
Arthur grabbed Loki by the collar, lifting him slightly. He was just about to slap him awake when Loki's eyes fluttered open. The god of mischief blinked in surprise, his gaze locking onto Arthur's raised hand.
"What are you doing?"
Arthur casually scratched the back of his head. "Nothing. Just an itch."
"...Do you really expect me to believe that?"
Loki's mouth twitched, then he glanced around. "Is this a spaceship? You know how to fly this thing?"
Arthur scoffed. "I was piloting this when I ran into you guys in that frozen hellhole called Jotunheim. What do you think?"
"Fair enough," Loki muttered. "Now, if you don't mind, would you let go of me?" He eyed the grip on his collar with growing irritation.
By now, Thor had woken up and was already checking on Jane. His expression darkened as he placed a hand on her forehead.
"What's wrong with her?" he asked, his voice edged with concern.
Jane, a mortal caught in the chaos of gods and realms, was burning up. The Aether's influence, combined with the aftereffects of being knocked unconscious, had left her unresponsive.
"Is she dead?" Loki asked with a raised eyebrow, his tone carrying an unmistakable hint of amusement.
Thor shot him a sharp glare before exhaling slowly. "I will save her."
"We can't afford to waste time— we're moving out." Arthur shot a glance at Loki. "Tell me where we're headed."
Loki took a moment to scan the cockpit before finally pointing in a direction. "That way."
Straightforward, no unnecessary theatrics.
Arthur powered up the ship, and with a sharp whoosh, they blasted off.
The journey itself wasn't worth commenting on— Asgard remained completely unaware of their departure. It seemed Heimdall had chosen to stay silent.
Still, Arthur couldn't shake his unease. Heimdall's words lingered in his mind. Did he suspect something about Odin's condition?
It wasn't impossible. Anyone who knew Odin well enough would notice if something was off.
And considering Arthur was the only real outsider in Asgard, it was only natural they'd be suspicious of him.
"Yes, keep going… straight ahead!"
Loki's voice broke Arthur's thoughts. He glanced at him, then back at their path.
A jagged mountain peak loomed ahead, rising from the water's surface. They were heading straight for a sheer rock wall.
Thor turned to Loki, his eyes widening. "Are we about to crash? Loki, tell me you're joking!"
"If it were that easy to get in, anyone could do it," Loki said, grinning. "Now accelerate!"
Arthur didn't argue— he simply pushed the throttle.
The ship shot forward and slammed straight into the rock face.
Instead of a collision, they burst through into a hidden tunnel. Thankfully, Arthur's ship wasn't too large— any bigger, and they wouldn't have fit.
As they surged forward, the glow of energy flickered around them. Arthur, Thor, and Loki all recognized it immediately—the unmistakable shimmer of the Bifrost.
"Let me take over."
Loki had been watching Arthur's piloting closely. He wasn't an expert, but he'd picked up enough to steer. Taking the controls, he made slight adjustments to their trajectory.
Moments later, the colorful energy surrounding them fractured, peeling away like shattered glass.
A dark, oppressive world unfolded before them.
Instantly, the ship flipped upside down.
Loki, completely unfazed, let out a delighted laugh. "This is incredible!"
"What the hell is fun about this?!"
Arthur's face darkened as he lunged into the co-pilot seat, wresting control back. With a few swift maneuvers, he steadied the ship, hovering in midair.
Slowly, they descended.
The moment they stepped outside, Arthur's frown deepened.
The air was thick, heavy, almost suffocating. The sky was a swirling mess of black and crimson, as if the atmosphere itself were poisoned.
The ground stretched out like a barren wasteland, cracked and lifeless. In the distance, the darkened sky churned, a storm on the verge of breaking loose.
Something about this place felt deeply, fundamentally wrong.
(End of Chapter)