The Rainbow Bridge shattered.
The torrent of cosmic energy, once so orderly, was severed mid-transmission. The flow turned chaotic, erupting in a detonation that shook all of Asgard.
Waves surged across the Cosmic Sea, rising higher than the palace spires before crashing down into the endless void below. The control chamber of the Bifrost collapsed in on itself, its great rotating sphere splitting apart, and the machinery crushed into ruin.
Thor and Loki were hurled skyward by the shockwave. Lock fared worse. He had no wings, no divine birthright of flight—only gravity dragging him down into the yawning abyss beneath the Cosmic Sea.
The explosion's aftermath howled like a storm, a force that battered all in its path. The three figures fell faster, spiraling toward the void's endless hunger.
Lock glimpsed movement through the chaos. Sif, sword in hand, charged across the fractured bridge toward them. For a moment, hope flickered—but the wave of unleashed energy struck her full force, tossing her aside like a leaf in a gale.
Far away, in the golden palace, Odin's eyes snapped open. The All-Father rose from his Odinsleep with sudden clarity, dissolving into light as he sped toward the collapsing bridge.
From the heavens, his hand reached out. With a single sweep, Odin caught Thor in one fist, Lock in the other—pulling them from the brink.
But he left Loki.
The younger prince tumbled, weightless, staring in disbelief at the sight of his father saving another in his place. His eyes burned with fury, betrayal, and despair as the void claimed him. His last vision was Odin's stern gaze—before he was swallowed by nothingness.
The Cosmic Sea churned eternally, its waters spilling from nowhere into nowhere. None knew what lay beneath, only that even gods did not return once they had fallen. Odin's choice was no accident.
Thor watched, stricken, as Loki vanished. His voice trembled:
"Father saved me… but what will become of Loki?"
Lock laid a hand on his shoulder. "Do not despair. His fate runs deep. I promise you—he still lives."
Thor's blue eyes searched him, desperate for hope. "Truly?"
Lock nodded, firm and certain. Thor breathed easier, clinging to that reassurance like a drowning man to driftwood.
Yet before long, Thor's mood shifted, unease clouding his features. "Brother Tang," he muttered, "you may have brought us… grave trouble just now."
Piece by piece, Thor explained what Lock had triggered when meddling with the Bifrost's controls. Understanding dawned slowly, followed by dread. Lock had nearly turned the bridge into a planet-crushing weapon, an accident born of ignorance.
An earthborn man, lacking the common sense of the wider cosmos.
Lock consoled himself with reason: the universe was vast, nearly infinite. The odds of the blast striking a populated world were infinitesimal. And even if it did—who was to say intelligent life lived there at all?
It was a weak comfort, but it was all he had.
The two stood together on the starlit shoreline of the Cosmic Sea, destruction smoldering behind them. Despite everything, the scene was strangely beautiful—an otherworldly poetry of fire and tide.
Lock tilted his head to the heavens where the rainbow beam had once stretched. "Thor, do you think there are fewer stars now?"
Thor squinted, brow furrowed. "Hmm… no, I don't think so."
"You can't tell at all, can you?"
The Thunder God grinned sheepishly. "I'm not Heimdall. Who but he could memorize the whole sky?"
They both fell silent. With the Bifrost destroyed, Earth was beyond their reach. Lock resigned himself to Asgard's gilded halls, at least for now.
That night, he lay restless. His mind retraced the day's events, each detail unraveling into darker questions.
Odin's choices.
Loki's fall.
The strange convenience of it all.
Centuries ago, Odin had found a Frost Giant child abandoned in Jotunheim and brought him home. Why? A conqueror who had crushed nine realms, suddenly stricken with tenderness? If he wished to spare the boy, he could have left him to foster with commoners. Why raise him as a prince? Why keep Laufey's son at his side?
And late, —the Frost Giants infiltrating the coronation. Heimdall, ever watchful, missed it? Loki, master of illusions, never suspected? Odin and Frigga, who taught him sorcery, never guessed?
Thor's exile, too, seemed… contrived. For defending Asgard's honor, the heir was stripped of his hammer and cast to Earth, leaving Loki to act unchecked. Conveniently, Odin "fell" into Odinsleep then, ceding the throne just long enough for Loki to seize power.
Coincidence upon coincidence, until Laufey himself was slain by Loki's hand. A neat erasure of Asgard's greatest enemy.
Then came Loki's attempt to annihilate Jotunheim with the Rainbow Bridge. And just as the plan reached its climax, Odin awoke, intervening at the perfect moment.
In the original tale, Loki had let go. But today, Lock had seen clearly: Odin could have saved him. He had chosen not to.
The All-Father had grasped Thor and Loki and let Loki fall.
A pattern emerged—a plan too vast, too deliberate, stretching across centuries. The Frost Giants wiped away. Loki was left to bear the sin of genocide. Thor left to inherit Asgard, cleansed of blood by his brother's betrayal.
A horrifyingly perfect design.
Odin, the benevolent king in public, the conqueror in legend, was revealed as the greatest schemer of them all.
And Frigga… gentle, gracious Frigga. Had she not aided this weaving of fate, with her glimpses of time and her soothing words?
Lock shivered, a cold sweat breaking down his back. What had felt like welcome and warmth earlier now seemed a cage gilded with politeness.
Asgard's rulers were not merely gods. They were architects of destiny.
The next day, golden trumpets resounded through the realm.
A banquet was called—victory must be celebrated, even in tragedy. The Frost Giant king was dead, Asgard victorious, and the people needed hope.
Thor, clad in ceremonial robes, found Lock before the feast. Together they walked beneath Asgard's shining towers, light reflecting on the sea of stars.
Lock shaded his eyes, gazing at the burning sun overhead. "Tell me, Thor… is that sun real?"
"Of course," Thor said, smiling.
"Then who built this place? Asgard defies the very laws of creation. A flat continent suspended in the void, the Cosmic Sea flowing endlessly from nothing, a star tethered to circle and mimic day and night… This is not nature. This is design."
Thor chuckled. "Some say my father wrought it in his prime. But I have my doubts. Even he may not be so mighty."
Lock said nothing, awed by the sheer scale. To bind stars, to capture moons—this was godhood not of myth, but of engineering.
As they spoke, Sif approached from across the hall, her eyes fixed on them.
The feast was about to begin.
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