Svartalfheim
“The fuck you doin’ here?” Brok said, glaring at Sindri.
Sindri’s hands fidgeted. “I… uh, remember that certain accident we had in the forge?”
“Yeah? What about it?”
“There was something I didn’t tell you about.”
Brok narrowed his eyes, hammer stopping halfway to pound the sword. “I died, didn’t I?”
“Yes.”
“You scab-sucking liar!” Brok leaped forward, trying to throttle his brother.
“Wait, wait,” Sindri said, holding his hands up. Kratos intervened, stopping the blue dwarf from tearing his brother a new hole. “I didn’t get all parts of your soul, but good news! He can restore it.” He pointed at Loki, who was watching it with amusement.
“What?” Brok’s head snapped to him. He stopped trying to get through Kratos, lowering his hammer.
“Yes,” Loki said, waving his hand. Brok stumbled back, trying to breathe. His blue skin faded into the same color as his brother. The real change was inside him, however. He felt a part return, one that he didn’t realize he was missing.
He leaned on the table behind him, looking at his hand. Loki created a mirror before him. He approached it, touching his face, unable to accept the change for a moment.
“Fascinating,” Freya muttered. He had simply pulled the direction part of Brok’s soul back, making him whole again.
With no visible effort.
She still had doubts, as did Kratos, but if their mere presence could change the future, she would risk trusting them for now.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Brok muttered. So many things made sense now. His blue skin, the way the other dwarves treated him and all that shit.
“See? All good,” Sindri said.
“You little,” Brok began to curse, ready to jump at his brother again. Sindri took the cue and disappeared, slipping between dimensions.
“Beanstalk,” the dwarf said, shaking his head. “Loki. I owe you a big one. If you ever need something my hands can build, name it.” Whatever he wanted, whether it be weapons or tools, he would make it.
He owed him that much.
“Now that I think about it,” Mimir began, stroking his beard. “I didn’t even thank you properly.”
“You are still in the shock of having a body. It is understandable.” He could see the hesitation in Mimir’s movements. He was waiting to be picked up, to be carried as a reanimated head.
“No, no, it's not. I might not have much to offer a person of your power, but if there is anything at all, I will be there,” he swore.
“Thank you.”
Brok left with Kratos to speak to the Lady, while Freya asked for their help in eliminating nearby Einherjar.
—
“Can’t believe these are the Einherjar,” Thor said, pointing at a gray-skinned warrior with the head of another.
Mimir blocked the swing of one, allowing Thor to smash it to the wall. “How different are they compared to yours?”
Loki waved his hand, creating a mindless construct in the form of an Einherjar from his universe. The golden-armored warrior ducked beneath the wild swing of the pale warrior, removing the arms at the elbow first before a spin took the enemy’s head off.
The construct dove into the remaining patrol, cutting through them with terrifying efficiency.
“Certainly an improvement,” Mimir said. If Odin’s Einherjar were half as good as the one butchering the patrol, they would be in for difficult times.
“By the way, that woman you talked with, your mother, who is she exactly?” Mimir asked. Loki and Thor had shared much, such as his true parentage, how Odin had adopted him, and so on. He hadn’t mentioned their mother much, though.
“Frigga,” Loki replied. He saw three more Einherjar arriving in different locations. He guided them into a single point. Thor didn’t even need to be warned, already knowing what his brother would do. He fired a lightning bolt that tore through all three.
“What?” Freya turned sharply.
“Not your counterpart,” Thor said as he wrapped a lash of lightning around two Einherjar and the beast one was riding, sending them upwards. A swing of Loki’s hand cleaved them in half, parts becoming ashes before hitting the ground. “Vanaheim already has a Freya as its queen. While Mother is from Vanaheim, she was never a queen before marrying Father."
He saw Freya visibly sag.
“Thor’s mother here was a Giant, Fjörgyn. Of course that didn’t stop Thor from killing every Giant he could,” Mimir said, standing a bit at the back. He wasn’t a warrior of physical exertions but of mental ones. He would simply get in their way.
Now it was Thor’s turn to sharply frown. “He killed the Giants? Why?”
“Because that’s what Odin wanted from him. He thinks they are a blight on the Nine Realms,” Freya said. She pulled her blade off the heart of the last Einherjar, letting the corpse fall.
Thor’s muscles tightened, lightning dancing on his brows. “I am going to kill him.”
“Your counterpart?” Mimir asked. That certainly looked personal.
“Odin,” he said. “Once, when we were children, Father told us the story of the last great war against the Jotnar who were invading Midgard and how peace was achieved at last. I didn’t understand the lesson at first, thinking it was about vanquishing monsters.”
“I told him it was about preserving peace,” Loki said from the side while scratching Cosmo’s chin.
“Yes. The Thor you know is who I would have been had my Father not changed his ways,” he said. His counterpart was a weapon, just as Hela was once upon a time. Only this lesser version of Odin had only delved deeper into his obsessions.
As such, Thor of this universe had become a monster.
Freya sheathed her sword. “Well, get in line. There are a lot of people who want his head.”
—
It didn’t take long until Kratos and Brok returned. The dwarf had a dreamy smile on his face.
“So? Let us see it, brother,” Mimir said. Kratos nodded, a spear appearing in his hand. He slammed it to the ground, displaying the latest creation of the famed dwarves.
“A Draupnir Spear?” Freya asked.
“The Draupnir Spear,” Kratos corrected.
“A weapon to kill a god. You know where this is going right, brother? One could say you are on the verge of returning to form,” Mimir said.
Thor and Loki shared a glance. Was the Greek good at killing gods?
“Does it scare you? To aid another violent god?”
“I’m scared for you, brother. That spear could start a war. The war. If that no longer concerns you, then maybe Freya’s right. Maybe the Giants had you in mind all along.”
Kratos did not reply. The journey back down the mountain was spent in silence. Loki’s offer to simply teleport them up was refused before. He didn’t see the need to ask again, just moving himself and Thor down. They took the mystical gateway back to Sindri’s house while he, once again, did it with a snap of his fingers.
—
Sindri’s House
“Look at that,” Sindri said. “She’s special, that one.”
Kratos was brandishing their latest creation, Draupnir. Brok still gave Sindri a stink eye but didn’t seem interested in committing fratricide.
“Have you found a way to reach Asgard?” Kratos asked, dismissing the spear.
“Um. Not as such. Had a few ideas, but they didn’t so much… work,” Sindri said with a crooked smile. Kratos let out a ragged breath, walking away.
Loki and Thor shared a glance, an act that was becoming repetitive. He considered offering to teleport him to Asgard, but Kratos was not a person who trusted easily. It wasn’t worth the hassle.
“Brother, without a way to Asgard, what are we doing?” Mimir asked.
“I do not know. I need to think,” he said, reaching the back of his belt. He stopped, shaking his head, and walked to his room.
“Uhh, we don’t exactly have too many rooms. Would you be open to sharing one?” Sindri said. With Tyr revealed as Odin, they had one room open for their guests.
Loki glanced at the closet-sized room. “Or I can make some modifications to enlarge this house?”
The dwarf brothers shared a look, nodding at one another. “Well, what are you waiting for?” Brok said with a chuckle.
Loki snapped his fingers. The walls began to widen, adding more space between where Kratos had gone off to sleep and the room next to his. It grew wide enough that two more doors appeared, each one leading into more spacious rooms, furniture included.
“Loki, could you be able to make a room for me? Now that I’m actually alive, I do actually feel tired,” Mimir said, accompanied by a yawn.
Another room appeared on Kratos’ right.
—
“What do you think, brother?” Thor asked. “They seem to be wary of us.” Two strangers, one claiming to be their enemy, the other bearing the name of Kratos’ missing son, had arrived out of nowhere.
Trust was in short supply, evident in every moment Freya and Kratos watched them.
Loki lay on the bed, creating one for Cosmo. “We disturbed the predictions of these Norns. They are suspicious but they don’t want to lose people who could change their fates.”
“The Greek, Kratos, doesn’t seem too interested in going to war. Without a general to lead them, how are they supposed to declare war on Asgard?” He didn’t know how prepared this universe’s Asgard was. The mention of a wall and the need for Surtr didn’t exactly inspire confidence in this fledgling war effort.
“Worst comes to worst, we can gather our friends and the Einherjar to raze this pale shadow of Asgard to the ground,” he said. He had considered destroying it himself, but not everyone was responsible for Odin’s evils.
“Should we bring the others? At least, Lady Sif and the Warriors Three,” Thor asked. The more the merrier. Especially with fine warriors such as their companions.
“The house is crowded as it is. We can call them to battle instead.”
“Good night then,” Thor said, leaving the room.
“Good night, brother.”
—
“What do you think, milady?” Mimir asked just before Freya could enter her room.
She sighed, leaning her forehead on the door. “Thor Odinson from another life, under the same roof as me as allies. What am I supposed to think, Mimir?”
“That we are fortunate. I mean, we can agree they are not spies. Not with that kind of power,” he said. He knew Odin couldn’t do the miracles Loki had shown. With no other enemy to speak of, who would send those two to infiltrate their little group?
“The idea that there are an infinite number of us in existence is baffling enough. If it means we’ll have more gods against Asgard, allying with this version of Thor and Loki is something I more than welcome.”
“Aye. Good night, milady.”
She nodded, twisting the knob.
—
They woke up the next morning to the sound of battle.
Undead were pouring out tears in reality. Loki had felt the disturbance in the fabric of space, waking Thor with a mental warning. Freya and the dwarven brothers were outside the house, battling the walking dead. Kratos had left earlier with Mimir to find his wayward son.
Thor summoned a storm cloud, raining lightning across the small field, incinerating the undead. Loki turned what he missed to dust.
“Keep them off me; I’ll close the tear,” Freya called, dashing across the field towards the tear in the fabric of reality.
The mystic doorway activated, allowing a light auburn-haired teenager through. Loki watched him mutter ‘no’ several times.
“It’s you! Wait… it’s you!” Sindri scowled, too busy fighting.
“Kid! Nice timing. Kill something, will you?" Brok asked, far happier than his brother.
The kid didn’t need to be told twice, drawing his bow and firing a salvo on the creatures. Whenever an undead managed to get in close quarters, the kid would use his bow as a bludgeoning tool.
He was well trained.
“I need more power. Atreus, come help me with the spell. I’ll show you how,” Freya called.
Loki’s eyes brightened, a wide smile on his face. So this was his counterpart, Kratos’ missing son.
Atreus didn’t question, rushing to help Freya close the tear. He began to repeat the words as she instructed, and the tear began to shrink.
He swiped his finger to the side, turning an undead that was creeping on Atreus to dust.
The mystic gateway activated again. Kratos and Mimir had returned just in time to join the fray. They were quick to surround Atreus and Freya, standing between them and the undead. Between the six of them, the undead were destroyed as fast as they arrived.
Freya and Atreus closed the tear. A burst of force and mist sent everyone flying away, except Thor, Loki, and Cosmo. They merely felt a breeze, standing resolute.
He was more interested in what Kratos would say to Atreus. The bald god walked forward, as did Atreus with his head hung and posture slack. They stood still for a moment before Kratos spoke.
“What do I call you?”
Loki rolled his eyes. That sentence alone was enough for him to give Kratos the same parenting book he had cursed his father with.
Atreus didn’t say anything, standing there. He let his bow fall, throwing his arms around his father. Kratos was taken back and took his time hugging back.
“Atreus, what has happened?” Kratos asked as his son continued to sniffle.
Atreus let his father go, taking a couple of steps back. “It’s all my fault. The Hel-Walkers. They’re everywhere. Everywhere.”
“There was a wolf in Hel. He was in chains, and I set him free. I thought that if…”
“Garm?!” Mimir bellowed with his freshly reconstructed lungs. “Great bleedin’ fuck lad, you freed Garm?!”
Atreus took a step back, rubbing his eyes to make sure he was seeing correctly.
“If the Hound of Hel is loose, he’ll chew through the fabric of the realms. Hel-Walkers are just the beginning. What were you thinking?” Freya asked with a disbelieving tone.
Mimir stomped his hoof. “Aye. This is a fuck-up of not insignificant proportions.”
“Enough. Leave him,” Kratos said, his tone brokering no argument. “Atreus has made a mistake. One that we—" He put his hand on Atreus’ shoulder, “will fix together.”
“Grand. Now if you don’t mind, I’d rather stay here. I’ve had my fill of my visits to Helheim.”
“Wait, wait. How do you have a body? Why is Brok not blue? Where is Tyr? Who are they?” Atreus fired off a string of questions, looking around at all the changes that had happened while he was gone.
For a couple of days.
"Yeah." Mimir scratched his head, reveling in the feeling. “There is actually a lot you need to hear.”
“The matter with Garm seems urgent. Why don't we two accompany you? I can get him up to speed on the road,” Loki offered. He didn’t want to bother sealing up all the rifts when he could assist in stopping Garm.
“Very well,” Kratos said, activating the mystic gateway.