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{Chapter: 62 - The Frozen Heart of Asgard}
Asgard was a city of gods, but today it was plunged into chaos. Screams of war echoed across its golden streets, and the once-proud spires trembled beneath the weight of enemy fire. The sky, ever brilliant with divine light, was now choked by smoke and streaked with the shadows of invading ships. It was a city besieged.
As Aiden made his way toward the treasury, he passed by many Asgardian warriors running in formation, shouting orders, their weapons drawn and cloaks fluttering in the wind. Even the guards posted to the sacred Treasury Hall had abandoned their post, summoned to battle by the toll of the emergency bells. This, to Aiden, was an unexpected gift.
He smirked to himself, his pace quickening. "How generous of them to leave the vault unguarded."
As he arrived at the towering doors of Asgard's famed Odin's Vault, he marveled at their design. Gilded in ancient runes and celestial symbols, the double doors loomed above himâbut to his astonishment, they held no visible lock or magical seal. No divine guardian. No protection spells. Just simple, majestic doors that welcomed the brave or the foolish.
With a theatrical bow, Aiden pushed one of the doors open and grinned. "Thank you, All-Father Odin, for your boundless generosity. May your benevolence bless this humble thief."
The moment he stepped inside, his eyes widened.
The room was dimly lit, yet even in the half-darkness, treasures glimmered like stars scattered across the heavens. Weapons, relics, gems, and artifacts of power rested on pedestals or were locked in glass-like containers. Each object seemed to whisper forgotten truths, promising either salvation or destruction to those who dared touch them.
But Aiden's gaze was drawn immediately to the centerpiece of the chamber.
In the very heart of the room sat a crystalline cube encased in a block of glowing ice. It rested upon a pedestal of stone and steel, its surface emanating a blue hue that flickered like dying embers beneath the aurora. The closer Aiden got to the artifact, the more cold it became.
A deep, unnatural cold blanketed the air, numbing his limbs. Even the Extremis within his bodyâknown for its regenerative heatâstruggled to maintain his core temperature.
"ThisâŠ" Aiden whispered, his breath visible as mist.
He reached out his hand and placed it against the ice.
The moment his palm touched the surface, a violent chill surged through his veins, threatening to freeze him from the inside out. But he didn't flinch.
"System," he commanded, "store it. Now."
With a faint flicker of light, the crystalline block vanished into his system's storage, and the cold that permeated the chamber faded almost instantly. Aiden exhaled in relief and wiped a sheen of frost from his brow.
"That's one hell of a trophy," he said to himself. "The Casket of Ancient Wintersâcapable of plunging realms into endless frost."
He stepped further into the chamber, eyes scanning every relic and weapon in sight. Among the shelves and displays were objects whispered about only in the highest halls of magicâobjects of cosmic consequence.
There! A pedestal bathed in warm green light caught his attention.
It held a small burning bowlâburning with a flame that never died. The Fire of Eternity.
"Surtr's gift to apocalypse," Aiden murmured. "The source of Ragnarok's spark⊠This was the flame that forged the blade destined to destroy Asgard."
He reached for it.
But just as his fingers neared the flame, the entire chamber trembled beneath his feet. A low, thunderous growl echoed from the stone walls, followed by the sound of something largeâsomething monstrousâcharging through the corridor.
Aiden turned sharply. "Already?!"
He hadn't expected company so soon, much less that company.
From the shadows beyond the door, the towering form of Kurseâthe cursed warriorâburst into view, his massive body a twisted amalgamation of muscle, armor, and dark elven enchantments. His eyes burned with primal rage.
He shouldn't have been here. Kurse's duty was to escort Malekith, to cause disruption, not to hunt down intruders.
But somehow, he had found Aiden.
"Persistent brute," Aiden muttered, flexing his fingers as darkness began to coil around his arm. "Let's see how well you handle the Aether."
Kurse didn't speak. He simply roaredâa sound that echoed with pain, fury, and ancient hatredâand charged.
Aiden didn't flinch. He welcomed the oncoming force with a glint of anticipation in his eyes. A swirling sphere of Aether erupted in his palm, crackling with chaotic power.
"Let's dance."
The moment Kurse stepped within striking range, Aiden thrust his fist forward.
Boom!
Aether exploded from his arm like a cannon shot, slamming directly into Kurse's chest. The force sent the cursed warrior staggering backward, a hole burned clean through his armor. But Kurse did not fall. He snarled, reached to his waist, and pulled out a dark, jagged device.
Aiden's eyes narrowed. "A gravity grenade?!"
He moved on instinct.
A second blast from his Aether-enhanced punch collided with Kurse's skull, shattering it like a brittle melon. The cursed warrior's headless body collapsedâbut the grenade clattered to the ground, beeping.
It activated.
Aiden didn't hesitate.
With a burst of energy, he enveloped his body in Aether and leapt backward. The grenade expanded in a flash of black lightâthen collapsed inward.
A localized black hole exploded at the chamber's core, warping and devouring everything in its radius. The pedestal where the Casket of Ancient Winters was once placed on swallowed whole, its contents erased in a moment of dark matter consumption. Tables shattered. Crystals cracked. The ground quaked.
When the distortion finally faded, silence returnedâexcept for the sound of approaching footsteps.
Aiden cursed under his breath. The guards were coming.
He looked around at the devastated room, the broken relics, the charred floor.
"You know I was just about to do that, but well," he muttered with a sly grin, "thank you, Kurse. Now I have a perfectly good excuse."
He turned toward the door.
There was no point staying now. The chaos would only escalate. The Casket alone was worth the riskâand besides, getting greedy in a divine vault had never ended well for anyone in mythology.
Aiden withdrew the Aether from his body. The thick, oily blackness that had once swirled with power around his limbs receded like smoke caught in the wind. Immediately, a wave of exhaustion hit him like a crashing tide. His knees buckled. Every ounce of strength he had burned away in the confrontation with Kurse, leaving his limbs trembling and his vision swaying. He dropped to the cold floor, breathing heavily, the adrenaline fading to reveal the sharp pang of fatigue coursing through his muscles.
The air was thick with smoke, and rubble littered the golden floor of the ruined treasury chamber. Aiden didn't even try to get up. The battle had taken its toll. He was still conscious, but barely.
Footsteps echoed down the long hall.
Aiden turned his head toward the noise, his vision swimming slightly. A shadow separated from the group of approaching figuresâtall, slender, armored.
The sharp clank of boots against marble rang through the partially collapsed corridor.
From the haze stepped a familiar figureâstrong and proud, her dark hair braided tightly back, armor glinting beneath the flickering lights. The Lady Sif.
"It's you...?" she said in disbelief as she stepped over a cracked column fragment, her sword still slick with blood.
Aiden forced a grin and pointed to the collapsed corpse of Kurse, his massive form sprawled out and still. "Because of him," Aiden said weakly.
Sif followed his finger, her eyes narrowing when she saw the body of the monstrous dark elf warrior. Her brows knit in confusion, then skepticism.
"You... you killed him?" she asked, her voice uncertain.
Aiden raised an eyebrow despite his fatigue. "What, don't believe me? You know, judging a book by its cover is how Asgardians lose wars."
Sif didn't respond immediately. Her gaze flickered around the room, finally landing at the center where the altar had once stoodâthe place where the Casket of Ancient Winters had been held.
It was gone.
"What happened to the artifact that was housed here?" she asked, her voice sharp.
Aiden held up his hands defensively. "Don't look at me like that. The big guy had a grenade. Not your typical kind eitherâit created a miniature black hole. Sucked the altar, the casket, and half the wall into nothingness."
Sif frowned deeply. She stepped toward the scorched section of the room and placed a hand on the scorched marble, still warm to the touch.
"Dark Elves have breached Asgard's defenses," she said quietly. "The palace is under siege. They're searching for you."
Aiden let out a hollow laugh, rubbing his temple. "Of course they are. It's always me."
"I was ordered to find and protect you," Sif said, already crouching beside him, examining his condition.
Aiden blinked. "Wait⊠protect me? That's your mission?"
Sif nodded.
Aiden leaned back, laughing again. "Well, you've got your work cut out for you. I can't move a muscle right now. The Aether's power is overwhelming. I burned through most I had."
Sif hesitated for a moment, her lips tight. Then, without a word, she knelt in front of him and turned her back.
"What are you doing?" Aiden asked, blinking.
"I'll carry you," she said simply. "We have to move. If Malekith finds you like this, it'll be over before it begins."
He stared at her for a moment, surprised. "You're really going to carry me? The cold and proud Lady Sif, shield-maiden of Asgard, is going to play the role of nursemaid?"
Sif gave him a sidelong glare. "You talk too much. Get on."
Aiden let out a chuckle and complied, draping himself across her back. Surprisingly, she lifted him with ease, like a feather, her toned arms steady and practiced. She broke into a run through the debris-strewn halls, carrying him with warrior's grace.
At first, Aiden felt awkward, his pride slightly bruised. But the absurdity of the moment dawned on him, and a grin spread across his face.
"You know," he said after a few moments of silence, "this is probably the first time you've ever touched a man. How does it feel?"
Sif grunted, her pace unbroken. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm under orders."
"Heh. Cold as ice," Aiden murmured.
They continued through the palace, the sounds of battle growing louder outside. Explosions rocked the walls, and screams echoed in the distance.
After a long stretch of silent running, Aiden finally spoke again.
"Alright, alright. Put me down."
Sif kept moving. "No."
"Seriously. Even if you carry me all over Asgard, it's not going to change the fact that Malekith is hunting me. Unless you can portal me off-world, he's going to find me again. Might as well face him."
Sif slowed, hesitated, then finally came to a stop. Aiden slid off her back before she could respond.
He stretched his arms, still shaky but slowly regaining some feeling. "You're strong," he said, cracking his neck. "I'll give you that."
"You're foolish," Sif retorted. "You can barely stand."
"And yet," Aiden said with a confident grin, "I'm still standing."
He turned to face her fully.
"You know," he said, eyes gleaming, "I heard you like real warriors. Men who don't back down from a fight. If I beat Malekith⊠how about a date?"
Sif stared at him, stunned for a moment by the sheer audacity.
Then she smirked.
"If you somehow survive long enough to defeat Malekith without the Aether's help... I'll consider you a warrior worthy of one evening."
Aiden pointed a finger at her dramatically. "I'll hold you to that, my icy goddess."
"Don't disappoint me," she said, turning away, her voice softer now. "And don't die."
"Hehe you better keep your word"
Aiden smiled. Aiden's expression hardened. He looked toward the palace gates where darkness coiled in the sky, where a presence unlike any other waited.
Malekith had come.
The true battle was about to begin.
With a breath that steadied his heart, Aiden stepped forward, the faint glimmer of challenge lighting his eyes.
"Time to make the impossible happen."
*****
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