Thor lay flat on his back, hands folded behind his head, staring blankly at the golden ceiling above him. His expression was calm—but the faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.
"To be honest," he said slowly, his deep voice rumbling through the quiet hall, "that guy was really strong. Fast learner. Powerful. Relentless."
He chuckled softly. "That fight… was the most fun I've had in years. My blood's still boiling just thinking about it."
It was true. That pure thrill of combat, the rush of life and death—Thor had missed it. So much so that, recently, he'd been wandering the Nine Realms less in pursuit of pleasure and women of every race, and spending more time training or brawling in Helheim.
Thor Odinson—Prince of Asgard, God of Thunder—was, by nature, a fighter. But he was also notoriously indulgent, with a lover (or several) in nearly every realm, from frost giants to elf maidens to alien queens.
Yet, lately, even his endless flirtations had slowed. Battle had become his new obsession.
This change hadn't gone unnoticed—Odin himself had praised Thor several times for finally "acting like a warrior rather than a tavern poet."
Loki, sitting nearby, sighed dramatically. "Brother, in case you've forgotten, we lost. Horribly. And fled like cowards."
Thor tilted his head toward him, unbothered. "Losers are still warriors, Loki. That thing was strong—stronger than either of us. Even I have to admit that. At least now I know why Hela made him. She must've gotten bored with our constant challenges."
He grinned ruefully.
Loki rolled his eyes.
Thor continued, "If I were her, I'd be bored too. Imagine—two weaklings who can't even scratch you showing up every few months just to be humiliated again. If I were her, I'd build a monster too, just to mix things up."
Loki stared at him, speechless.
Thor didn't feel insulted at all—only pragmatic. It wasn't shameful to recognize power.
"Jason's a worthy opponent," he went on, voice steady. "He doesn't die, and he keeps growing stronger. But that's fine. Everything has a limit, even him. And if he doesn't—" his eyes lit up with confidence "—then we'll just grow faster."
That was Thor in a nutshell—arrogant, fearless, and utterly straightforward.
"Two versus one isn't exactly honorable," Loki muttered.
Thor shrugged. "We've always fought Hela two-on-one, haven't we? It's tradition."
Loki groaned. "It's idiocy."
Thor ignored him, lost in the memory of the fight—each punch, each explosion of power. He could almost feel the thrill again.
Loki looked at his brother and sighed. He'd long since stopped wasting breath arguing with Thor. Logic and subtlety were wasted on him.
If I ever decided to scheme against you, Loki thought darkly, you wouldn't even realize it after I'd killed you twenty times.
Across from them, Heimdall watched with his usual calm smile, like a fond uncle watching squabbling nephews.
After some time, the two brothers' bruises faded under divine recovery. They stood to leave when Heimdall's golden eyes flickered with a sudden seriousness.
"Thor. Loki." His voice carried quiet weight. "Be alert. Several Asgardian warriors have gone missing recently."
Both brothers froze.
"Missing?" Thor turned sharply, his tone darkening. "What do you mean?"
Heimdall folded his hands behind his back. "Asgard has always ruled over several realms. Normally, we rarely need to send patrols—they all know their place. Occasionally, our warriors visit to reaffirm Odin's sovereignty or manage supplies. But recently, those who left Asgard have… not returned."
"At first, it was just one or two," he continued. "But the number has grown. And then…"
He paused, his voice lowering. "…then we lost Sif."
Thor's entire body stiffened. "What?"
Heimdall's eyes darkened. "Sif led a squad of elite guards to investigate the missing warriors. But soon after… she and her entire team vanished as well."
The hall fell silent. Even Loki's usual sarcasm vanished.
"This," Heimdall said grimly, "has caused great unrest in Asgard. Sif isn't just a warrior—she's a goddess. Her disappearance has shaken the people. The gods' council is still debating what to do, and Odin… has fallen into his deep sleep once again."
Thor clenched his fists, knuckles cracking like thunder. "You mean to tell me… no one knows what happened to her?"
"None," Heimdall admitted. "The only certainty is that someone—something—is targeting Asgard directly. Ordinary warriors disappearing could be coincidence. But for Sif herself to vanish…" He shook his head. "That is an insult that cannot stand."
The fury in Thor's eyes burned like stormfire. "Sif…" he murmured. "If she's been harmed…"
He didn't finish the sentence. The thunder rumbling in his veins said enough.
Loki glanced at his brother, noting the storm gathering in his aura. Even he couldn't deny it—Thor cared deeply for Sif.
"She's a goddess," Loki said quietly. "If she's been taken, then whoever's behind this… has courage. Or madness."
Thor turned sharply, his crimson cloak snapping like lightning behind him. His voice was cold steel.
"I'll find her myself," he said. "No matter who's responsible."
He strode toward the bridge, each step heavy with determination. Loki followed, silent but alert, his emerald eyes glinting with thought.
Behind them, Heimdall watched the brothers vanish into the rainbow light of the Bifröst, his expression grave.
Under his breath, he murmured, "Be careful, my friends. The shadow that moves against Asgard now… feels far darker than before."
(End of Chapter)
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