In the desolate, wind-swept silence of the canyon, Leo stood over the fallen shell of the Destroyer. The golden wings of the Nirvana form didn't just sit on his back; they hummed with a hungry, predatory frequency. As he focused his will, the structure of the wings shifted, the sharp metallic feathers at the base curving and locking into a high-speed orbital configuration.
They began to spin. What were once wings transformed into two twin-discs of rotating golden light—molecular saw blades that hummed with a soundless vibration. Leo stepped forward and pressed the leading edge of the blades against the Destroyer's waist.
The cutting didn't produce sparks or the screeching of metal on metal. Instead, there was a heavy, eerie silence. The Nirvana energy wasn't just physical force; it was a fundamental erosion of the Uru-metal's atomic structure. As the golden light bathed the dark armor, the obsidian surface seemed to soften, turning from indestructible divine steel into something more... malleable. The speed of the cut accelerated, the blades sinking deeper into the core of the ancient machine.
The Destroyer was unlike any machine on Earth. It had no gears, no hydraulics, and no circuitry. It was a hollow shell of pure Uru, animated solely by the ambient magic of the Allfather and the remote will of the King. Now, with its structure already compromised by Mjolnir's lightning and Loki's attention diverted toward his endgame in Asgard, the machine was vulnerable.
In less than three minutes, the golden blades finished their rotation. With a dull clunk, the three-meter-tall armor was severed into two clean halves.
Leo reached out, his telekinetic grip pulling the upper torso toward him. He sat cross-legged in the red sand, the heavy metal floating inches above his lap. From his small, travel-worn backpack, he pulled out the Vibranium Maker I arc reactor. The blue core flickered weakly—it was down to its last reserves of energy—but it was enough to jumpstart the process.
The Destroyer's armor began to tremble, a low-frequency vibration that shook the sand in a ten-foot radius. Slowly, tiny specks of golden light began to bleed out of the Uru plates. They didn't dissipate; they swirled together like a mini-nebula, condensing into a single, dense golden bead of pure, refined metal essence.
While Leo was deconstructing a god-slayer in the desert, the Bifrost Observatory in Asgard was bathed in a cold, unnatural light.
Loki stood at the center of the control hub, his expression a mask of cold determination. He took Gungnir—the Eternal Spear—and plunged its tip into the activation slot. The machinery groaned, the ancient gears of the bridge turning as the Rainbow Bridge roared to life.
With a flash of prismatic light, Laufey, the King of the Frost Giants, appeared on the platform. He was a towering figure of blue skin and crimson eyes, followed by three of his elite attendants.
Loki didn't bow. He didn't even smile. "Welcome to Asgard, King Laufey," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "I trust the journey was... enlightening."
Laufey let out a raspy, booming laugh that sounded like ice cracking in a deep cavern. He looked around at the golden walls of the observatory, his eyes filled with a centuries-old hunger. "It is even more beautiful than the stories say. A shame it must burn."
Leaving two of his giants to guard the bridge entrance, Laufey—standing a massive 2.8 meters tall—followed Loki down the rainbow path toward the Golden Palace.
All of this was witnessed by the silent, frozen sentinel. Heimdall, encased in the jagged block of ice Loki had created with the Casket of Ancient Winters, could still see. His orange eyes, capable of watching the birth of stars, tracked every step of the Frost Giants.
Heimdall began to fight. He didn't use his muscles; he used his Origin Power, the very essence of his soul. He poured his life force into the ice, creating a thermal conflict that made the block groan and shriek.
CRACK.
A hairline fracture appeared near his sword hand.
On Midgard, at the last landing site of the Bifrost, Thor and Jane stood under the swirling desert stars. Thor looked up, his hand tight on the handle of Mjolnir.
"Heimdall! Open the bridge!" he shouted.
Silence. The sky remained dark, the stars indifferent.
"Heimdall? Can you hear me?" Thor's voice was tinged with a rising panic. He knew Loki's timeline was moving faster than his own.
Jane looked at him, her heart sinking. "Thor? What's happening?"
"I don't know," Thor whispered.
In the distance, the headlights of a single SUV cut through the darkness. Sif and the Warriors Three jumped out before the car had even fully stopped.
"Heimdall isn't responding," Thor told them as they approached.
"Then we are stranded," Fandral said, his usual wit replaced by a grim realization. "Without the gatekeeper, we are just exiles on a rock."
Thor ignored him, looking back at the sky with a desperate intensity. "Heimdall! If you can hear us, we need you now! Asgard needs you!"
The call echoed across the realms, reaching the ears of the frozen man in the observatory. Heimdall heard his prince. He felt the weight of his duty. With a roar of silent agony, he unleashed every remaining drop of his divine power.
The ice didn't just melt; it exploded. Shards of frozen magic flew in every direction as Heimdall stepped out, gasping for air. His skin was blue-tinged from the cold, but his resolve was iron.
He didn't hesitate. He swung his sword, cleaving through the first Frost Giant attendant before the creature could even raise its ice-club. The second giant lunged, but Heimdall was faster, plunging his blade through the monster's midsection.
He stumbled to the control pedestal, his legs shaking. With a shaking hand, he thrust the Bifrost Sword into the lock. The bridge roared, the colored light beams beginning to converge once more.
But as the portal opened, Heimdall's strength finally left him. He collapsed onto the gold floor, his eyes fluttering shut as the bridge stabilized.
In the New Mexico desert, a massive tornado of light erupted from the sky.
Sif and the others cheered, their faces illuminated by the prismatic glow. But Thor's expression remained grave. He looked at the swirling vortex, then back at Jane. He knew the palace was under siege. He couldn't take her into a war zone.
He stepped toward her, taking her hands in his. "I have to go. My father... my home... I have to end this."
Jane looked into his eyes. She saw the God, but she also saw the man she had fallen for. She wanted to scream, to tell him to stay, to take her with him—but she knew who he was now.
"I know," she whispered. "Just... come back. Don't make me hunt you down across the universe."
"I promise," Thor said.
They embraced, a final, desperate kiss shared amidst the roaring wind of the Bifrost, before Thor stepped back into the light.
Back in the red canyon, Leo was deep in a trance.
The upper half of the Destroyer was now a dull, deathly gray. The golden light beads were flowing steadily into Leo's body, vibrating against his skeletal structure. He could feel his bones becoming denser, his connection to the "metal world" sharpening to a razor's edge.
A portion of the essence surged into his mind, expanding his mental capacity to calculate complex molecular structures. The black Uru-metal was being stripped of its soul, leaving behind nothing but inferior, grayish-silver slag.
Leo felt a slight, satisfied curve touch his lips. The power of the Destroyer was being repurposed.
The Warriors Three and Sif landed in the observatory, finding Heimdall slumped on the floor.
"Heimdall!" Sif rushed to his side, checking his pulse while Hogun and Fandral secured the perimeter.
Volstagg stepped to the controls and yanked the sword out, cutting the transmission to save what was left of Heimdall's strength.
Thor stood in the center of the room, Mjolnir sparking with electricity. "Get him to the healers. I'm going to find my brother."
He didn't wait for an answer. He took flight, a bolt of lightning streaking toward the Golden Palace.
Inside the royal bedchamber, the air was thick with the scent of frost. The grand golden doors were covered in a layer of jagged ice. Frigga, the Queen of Asgard and a master of the mystic arts, stood her ground. Though her heart was breaking at the sight of her home being invaded, she drew the sword from beside Odin's bed.
The doors groaned as the frost dissolved the seals. Three Frost Giants stepped through, their breath steaming in the warm air of the palace.
Frigga moved like a dancer, her blade catching the light as she slashed through the lead giant's throat. He fell with a gurgle, but the sheer size of the intruders was overwhelming. Laufey himself stepped forward, his massive hand swatting Frigga aside with a casual, brutal strength.
She hit the wall and slumped to the floor, unconscious.
Laufey walked to the edge of the bed. He looked down at the motionless Odin, his face twisting into a mask of pure, ancient hatred.
"I've waited a long time for this, Allfather," Laufey hissed, his voice a low growl. "They say you can still see and hear everything in this state. I hope that's true. I want you to know that it was the King of the Jotuns who finally snuffed out your light."
Laufey raised his hand, a jagged, six-inch dagger of black ice forming in his palm. He aimed it directly at Odin's throat and pulled back for the killing blow.
"Enough."
The voice came from the shadows.
A massive blast of energy from Gungnir struck Laufey square in the back, the golden light of the spear burning through his blue hide. The King of the Frost Giants was thrown across the room, crashing through a stone pillar.
Loki stepped into the light, clad in his full royal armor, his green cape flowing. He held the Eternal Spear with a steady, resolute grip. He looked down at the gasping Laufey on the floor, his eyes cold and devoid of the "brotherhood" he had once pretended to offer.
"And the one who kills you," Loki said, his voice a lethal whisper, "is the Son of Odin."
Laufey looked up, his eyes wide with a final, desperate realization of the betrayal. But before he could speak, Loki fired again. A blinding burst of white light erupted from the spear, striking Laufey with the full power of the throne.
In a single, violent flash, the King of the Frost Giants was reduced to a pile of gray ash.
Frigga stirred, blinking as she sat up. She saw Loki standing over the remains of the monster, the spear in his hand. Her heart swelled with a mother's pride.
"Loki... you saved him," she whispered, her voice trembling with relief.
She stood and threw her arms around him. Loki held her, his gaze looking past her toward the empty throne. "I swore to you, Mother," he said softly. "I swore they would pay for what they did today."
Back in the Gobi Desert, the first half of the Destroyer had collapsed. What was once a legendary armor was now a pile of brittle, dark-gray fragments scattered across the red sand.
The arc reactor in Leo's hand flickered one last time and went dark, its energy completely spent.
Leo flipped his palm, letting the useless fragments fall. He then looked at the remaining half of the Destroyer—the legs and waist. The golden wings on his back spread wide once more, their feathers vibrating with a renewed hunger.
They plunged directly into the second half of the armor. The process began again, the golden light surging into the wings, reinforcing them with the legendary properties of Uru.
Leo closed his eyes, his mind beginning to drift into a new level of metallic consciousness. He wasn't just taking the metal; he was learning its secrets.