"He's still breathing, but he's lost too much blood. Even with his strength, the wounds are too severe."
Su Ming gestured for attendants to take Heimdall for treatment. Still disguised as Odin, he leaned on the Eternal Spear with one hand, the other checking Heimdall's chest.
His heart still beat, his head unpierced, but his other organs were gravely damaged.
He spoke to Brunhilde as Sleipnir, the eight-legged steed, licked Heimdall's face.
The gatekeeper wasn't dark-skinned, as some might expect—his skin was pale, his beard a fiery red.
Su Ming recognized Heimdall's wounds. In London, he'd tested his armguard against Hydra's energy guns, and the damage matched perfectly.
Back then, he thought his armor couldn't withstand the Cosmic Cube. Now, it was confirmed—the Tesseract.
The Cube was with the Ancient One, so the only forces with energy weapons were Hydra or the SSR.
The SSR was mired in office politics: Peggy sidelined, Phillips retired, Nick Fury sweeping floors, Steve filming ads for Wilson Enterprises.
With the war won, the Strategic Scientific Reserve had sheathed its swords and set its horses to pasture.
That left Hydra. Who led them? Whitehall? Kraken?
Whitehall chased immortality, while Kraken knew Norse myths best. Their branches had barely suffered in the war, making them prime suspects.
Information was scarce. Brunhilde hadn't seen the enemy, only frost giant corpses and bloodied humanoid footprints.
Fortunately, Heimdall hadn't died or fallen into the cosmic void below the Bifrost.
When he fell, he'd driven his greatsword into the bridge, hanging beneath to evade detection.
Brunhilde's team found him missing and searched, guided by the pegasus's nose.
They found him dangling, unconscious, still clutching his sword.
She stationed troops at the Bifrost and rushed Heimdall and his sword back to Su Ming.
Su Ming handed the Uru greatsword to Garth to carry. "Some enemies have slipped in, their location unknown. They might set up a portal for reinforcements."
"Frost giants can't hide easily. I'd smell their stench from miles away," Brunhilde muttered, watching Heimdall loaded onto a skiff bound for the Golden Palace.
The frontal battle raged on. The Vanir suffered heavy losses but showed no sign of retreat.
Now frost giants had infiltrated from another direction, making matters worse.
"Frost giants alone aren't a threat, but with Hydra involved, it's different. As Earthlings daring to come here, they're fully prepared," Su Ming said.
Hydra excelled at infiltration and sabotage, a skill inherited from their split with the Brotherhood of the Shield.
Su Ming sighed, turning his gaze to the battlefield.
Garth pondered a practical issue: could they recall the deployed army?
Only Odin and Heimdall could operate the Bifrost.
The Valkyries couldn't. The Uru sword was indeed the key, but it required preset coordinates or a view of the Nine Realms to target.
Su Ming considered. The bait had worked well enough; time to digest some enemies.
"Garth, find people to douse the World Tree's fire. Brunhilde, inform Freya to gather the Norns and civilians. Await my order to evacuate."
"Evacuate? Abandon the Golden Palace? Impossible," Brunhilde protested, unable to fathom life without it.
Su Ming explained patiently, his single eye glinting. "The attacks from Vanaheim and Jotunheim aren't random. Ragnarök's signs have stirred countless enemies. Surtur and Hela are moving. Even with all our forces, the Golden Palace can't hold. Odin's made too many enemies."
Only Odin could truly defend Asgard. The Odinforce was a world-power, and the Golden Palace was Odin himself.
Long ago, Odin blinded one eye, pierced himself with Gungnir, and hung on the World Tree to discover the Runes and master their power.
That birthed the Rune King. Without Runes, there was no Rune King.
In history, Thor would awaken as the Rune King, guided by the Odinforce, blinding himself and hanging on the Tree to gain insight.
Two conditions: the World Tree's approval and Asgardian blood.
Su Ming had neither. If the World Tree had consciousness, as in the comics, it'd know who set the fire.
He also didn't understand the claw-like Rune symbols. Magic eluded him; he had no talent for it.
Even the Ancient One couldn't teach him. Talent wasn't forced.
"If Hela comes, I'll avenge my sisters!" Brunhilde drew her weapon, slashing the air.
"With your mouth?" Su Ming shot back, exasperated. The Golden Palace was toxic—two days back, and Brunhilde was already brainless. "Think of Sakaar. Your real enemy is Odin. He could've beaten Hela. Why send you? For glory? Think about it. That's all I'll say."
Brunhilde fell silent, her breathing heavy, chest heaving, glaring at Su Ming like she'd devour him.
But she calmed, speaking slowly. "You're right. Only Odin knows why he sent us."
"Your sisters' souls are still in Hela's grasp. Figure out how to steal or trade them back, not just drink and rage," Su Ming said, softening. "Now, follow my orders. I'll lead you to victory."
"You sound just like Odin," Brunhilde said, shaking her head, turning her horse, and galloping off.
Garth glanced at her retreating figure. "Is it really so bad we'd abandon the Golden Palace? Many have lived here their whole lives. They can't survive elsewhere."
"The Golden Palace can hold. The vault has the Destroyer, and the fortress is defensible. But the city's too vast—urban warfare is costliest. I sense more enemies coming. Civilians must go first."
His words sounded compassionate. If Garth didn't know he'd lit the signal fire, she might've been moved.
Saving civilians was the right call.
"Where to? Earth?" she asked.
"No, Earth can't support them. The civilians go to Himinbjorg," Su Ming whispered, leaning close.
Garth scratched her ear, tickled. "Himinbjorg? Sounds familiar."
"A fortress from King Bor's era, built into a mountain, well-hidden. When Bor died and Odin took over, he gifted it and the surrounding lands to Heimdall."
Himinbjorg was Heimdall's fief, not far from Asgard's continent, but obscure enough to stay hidden.
In Thor: Ragnarok, Heimdall hid civilians there.
He stood guard at the Bifrost year-round, making the fief a formality, but its seclusion was perfect now.
A fortress was a fortress. Civilians could survive there briefly. Su Ming needed time for all players to arrive and shape his plan.
He didn't know Himinbjorg's exact location, so he sent Brunhilde to Freya, who'd know from the old days.
As for the real Odin, he slept in a hidden chamber. No one would notice, with "Odin" on the battlefield.
"Why do you know all this?" Garth asked, exasperated. "I'm a failure as an Asgardian. You know more than me."
"Don't sweat the details. Save people, lose land, and you keep both. Save land, lose people, and you lose all. Trading space for time is the strategy. Go put out the fire."
Su Ming sent Garth off, patrolling the battle lines on horseback.
He sought the Vanir's leader.
Gullveig, Freya's sister—one a mage, one a warrior—was stronger than Sif but no match for Su Ming.
He could guess her motives: revenge, and equality.
The Vanir were oppressed by Asgardians, used as labor, forced to pay tribute and fight for Asgard.
When Odin conquered Vanaheim, he barred Vanir from the Golden Palace, except women married into Asgardian families.
The Vanir were conquered, part of one nation, yet barred from the capital, even as tourists.
If that wasn't discrimination, what was?
Odin saw it as mercy, not targeting the Vanir specifically—no dwarves or light elves entered the Golden Palace either. Vanir women marrying Asgardian warriors was a privilege.
These were Odin's youthful mistakes. As he aged, his wisdom grew, but old rules became habit, blinding him to their dangers.