Threads of ice-blue blood, mixed with dots of pink brain matter, flowed between the thick fingers of the pitch-black ceramite steel gauntlet.
Even under the powerful, ancient gaze from Odin, the Allfather, Nolan felt like a little fish trapped in the desert, suffocating under a dry, crushing weight. Breathing became difficult.
His two hearts beat fiercely against his ribs, a paranoid, pounding rhythm in his chest. Still, staring defiance at the distant, silent Odin, Nolan slowly but firmly closed his fist. There was a wet, final crunch. He crushed what was left of Loki's head.
Then, Nolan, slightly raising his diamond-shaped helmet, opened his hand. He tossed the ruin aside like garbage. The slender body, now completely dead, tipped over the edge of the crystalline bridge. It fell slowly, tumbling end over end, drifting down into the cold, silent void of the universe, until it was just a speck, and then gone.
At the same time, Thor, who had just been elated by his father's recovery, completely lost the smile on his face. The light in his eyes died.
He slowly loosened his grip on Mjolnir. The hammer fell from his grasp and landed on the bridge with a heavy, dull clang. He sat down hard, paralyzed on the Rainbow Bridge, his expression one of complete, hollow decadence. His deep blue eyes seemed to sparkle with a trace of endless, unresolvable sadness.
"Thank you," his voice was a low, cracked whisper, "for helping me make this difficult decision, Brother Nolan. I am not a qualified family role model, nor a qualified brother, nor even a qualified prince of Asgard."
"I know and understand that Loki caused a lot of damage to the Nine Realms, and the innocent creatures of Alfheim could only be repaid with his life, but I still... I didn't have the courage to take action just now."
Thor, seeming to have matured a lot in an instant, shook the golden braid on his head. He tried hard to squeeze out a smile of mixed, painful emotions from his blood-stained face.
He turned to Nolan, who was standing still, and said, "Brother Nolan, starting today, I Thor, the God of Thunder from Asgard, has completely lost his brother. Even though I just realized he is a Frost Giant, deep in my heart, Loki is still my true brother."
At this moment, the huge golden shadow spanning the entire continent of Asgard dissolved, fading into the air like golden dust. The cosmic starry sky, which had been obscured, once again appeared above Asgard.
Immediately afterward, a one-eyed old man, with bare feet and a slightly stooped back, slowly passed by the chattering, heartbroken Thor. He didn't even glance at his son.
Wearing ancient, scarred armor, he stepped forward with his hands behind his back, his bare feet making no sound on the crystalline bridge. He stopped directly in front of the huge, three-meter-tall figure.
Then, the one-eyed old man repeatedly looked at the tall human hidden inside the Terminator armor. His deep, single eye was devoid of any emotion, yet it felt like it was peeling Nolan apart, layer by layer.
"Let me see," Odin's voice was quiet, but carried the weight of ages. "A second heart that seems to contain the will of the wolf, and strange 'divine' blood flowing throughout the body. Oh, and a magical weapon whose structure even I can't see through. Little human cub, your origin is mysterious."
"Loki's death has nothing to do with Brother Nolan! It was a decision I made alone! You can regard it as my doing!"
The next moment, Thor, his injuries not yet improved, staggered and stood up from the bridge in a hurry. He shouted loudly at the back of Odin, the Allfather, with a solemn, desperate expression.
However, before Thor could finish his words, the Allfather suddenly turned around and gently, almost casually, waved his old, wrinkled palm at his son.
In an instant, Thor spurted out a mouthful of hot blood. He was sent rolling like a ground ball, flying quickly toward the end of the Rainbow Bridge, crashing and skidding to a stop.
"The god-king of Asgard can be a bloodthirsty tyrant or a cowardly monarch," the Allfather's voice was cold, "but he cannot be a god who kills his own brother!"
The Allfather, seemingly teaching Thor a lesson, yet with words that seemed to hold other meanings, suddenly turned his head back.
He slightly narrowed his one penetrating eye and murmured, "Human warrior from Midgrard, thank you for all your efforts to quell the rebellion in Asgard. Your noble behavior has gained the respect and love of all the people of Asgard. You fully have the qualifications to enter the Hall of Valhalla. No matter what kind of reward you want, Asgard will meet your requirements. I just hope that the brotherhood between you and Thor can always be maintained."
Odin finished speaking. Nolan, who remained silent, tapped his diamond-shaped helmet heavily, a single, sharp nod.
A fleeting, almost imperceptible smile seemed to appear on the old face of the Allfather.
Then, his stooped figure slightly moved his bare feet and simply vanished from in front of the Terminator Armor.
After dozens of seconds, Nolan, finally sure the old king was gone, slowly raised a metal palm. The hiss of seals breaking was loud in the sudden silence. He took off his diamond-shaped helmet and took a deep, shuddering breath of air.
At this moment, Nolan's forehead was covered with drops of cold sweat. He couldn't help but narrow his cyan wolf eyes. He subconsciously opened his lips, baring his sharp fangs in a grimace of residual tension.
"Before there is a fully-organized space fleet, it's better not to mess with these ancient guys," he muttered to himself. "It's too damn scary, and I'm too damn impulsive."
He ran a hand through his damp, gray hair. "Nolan, Nolan, what does it have to do with you whether Loki dies or not? It's nothing more than an invasion war."
He sighed again, his breath pluming. "I just don't know... Now that Loki is dead, will the alien invasion from the Chitauri aliens still come as scheduled?"
The interior of the empty Palace was vast and silent.
There was no one above the golden throne. The tightly closed heavy door completely cut off the faint, distant cheers of the people that gradually rose outside.
Accompanied by the slight, padding sound of bare feet stepping on the golden ground, Odin, the Allfather, his face seeming a bit older and more drawn than before, slowly moved his rickety figure.
He stepped up the stairs in front of the throne. With his hands behind his back, he stared at the golden throne with his deep single eye, but did not turn around and sit on it as usual.
After a long moment of silence, the deep voice of the Allfather suddenly echoed throughout the entire Immortal Palace.
"From the moment that human child stepped onto Asgard, I saw the blessing and protection you gave him. I may be old, but I am far from useless."
In an instant, Odin turned around like an old lion and roared. The terrifying golden power in his deep, wide-open eye surged repeatedly, like a turbulent, golden ocean.
At the same time, the sure-hit spear he raised had its tip firmly locked on an illusory black mist that was constantly surging and emerging from the floor in front of the throne.
A tall, massive figure, seeming to wear golden power armor and holding a huge, gauntleted power claw, revealed a vague, shimmering outline within the darkness.
"...Emperor? Lord of Mankind? Hope and Savior?"
The next moment, Odin, listening slightly as if to a voice only he could hear, murmured to himself.
Then, after pondering for a while, he suddenly narrowed his one deep eye and asked in a deep, gravelly voice to the hazy figure below, "Strange god... I roughly understand your origin and purpose, but can you tell me..."
"Behind that little human cub... what the hell are the four 'big things' that haven't appeared yet?!"
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