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[COLOR=GOLDENROD][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]N E W   Y O R K   B A Y,   N E W   Y O R K:[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][/COLOR][INDENT][sup][COLOR=LIGHTSLATEGRAY][B]W E D N E S D A Y,   A U G U S T   0 8[SUP]T H[/SUP]   |   T H E   R A F T[/B][/COLOR][/sup][/INDENT]
[INDENT][INDENT]It was as though the Surfer had physically reached into his mind. Pain permeated the entirety of Thor’s skull as the sensation of tendrils sliding through his mind overwhelmed him, forcing the God of Thunder to his knees. The Surfer’s tendrils were crawling deeper and deeper with each passing second, forcing their way through every nook and crevice of his mind. Digging into even the most repressed memories, the Surfer pulled Thor’s most painful moments, replaying them before his very eyes. 

As Thor kneeled, helpless to resist, he cried out, his pain expressed in a noise that could only be described as agony. The storm above the Raft seemed to cease as Thor laid on his knees in front of the Surfer, the lightning disappearing from Blake’s eyes before his blue irises clouded over. His head flinched, twisting as his mind was bombarded with image after image until finally, Blake was left staring into the face of a haunting figure as the lightning illuminated the stranger’s smiling visage for but a second. But it was enough to make the picture whole.

Loki. 

Son of Laufey.

Thor’s [i]adoptive[/i] brother. 

In all of the times that Blake had gone to Odin for counsel, the Allfather had failed to mention that Loki still lived. It couldn’t be Loki, Loki had been destined to die, he had killed Baldur, their brother. His crimes were to be punished, carried out by Heimdall himself.

But as Thor recalled, the prophecy, the ancient curse known as the Ragnarok cycle, it dictated that both Heimdall and Loki were to die at the other’s hand. Yet if both Loki and Heimdall yet lived, had the cycle been finally broken after all of these millennia of death and rebirth? Or was Ragnarok still to come? 

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted before Thor could fully process the information before him. Another memory was forced upon him, the all too familiar sights and smells of his parent’s farm overwhelmed his senses, as a night from nearly three decades ago played out before him. There before him, stood Heimdall, his feet firmly planted in the field belonging to none other than Erik Donaldson. Anger masked every one of Heimdall’s features as his face was twisted in a grim look of determination, the look of one prepared for a fight.

[b][i][color=#ff4500]“Trickster!”[/color][/i][/b] He yelled, his voice echoing through Thor’s skull as the memory continued to swell to the forefront of his mind. Anger hung from every word as Heimdall roared towards the sky, cursing the trickster, Loki with each thought as he spoke again. [b][i][color=#ff4500]“What have you done?”[/color][/i][/b]

The weight of the words fell upon Thor as the reality of Loki being alive hung on his shoulders. Had it been Loki who broke the cycle? If the cycle had been broken, what did this mean for him? For Odin? Or even for Asgard whose remains still laid in ash across the third realm, its people lost to the Nine and its mysteries? Why did Loki now choose to meddle in the affairs of mortals as he bestowed gifts meant only for immortals onto such a frail, greedy race?

[b][color=#fa8072]“Do not lose focus, my love.”[/color][/b] A voice called softly into Thor’s ear as he rolled over in his bed, his hand cradling the loving face of his wife as she smiled up at him. Her green eyes making her dark hair all the more radiant as the subtle scent of lilac and gooseberries gently wafted under his nose.

[b][color=#daa520]“How could I?”[/color][/b] Thor asked with a chuckle before sitting up in bed, [b][color=#daa520]“The coronation is all I can think about, Sif. I am going to be the next King of Asgard.”[/color][/b]

[b][color=#fa8072]“But what is a king without his people?”[/color][/b]  Sif replied as she propped herself up on her arm. [b][color=#fa8072]“Any man can claim rulership over a land, but a true King,”[/color][/b] She paused raising a hand as she gently ran it along the side of Thor’s cheek and over his beard. [b][color=#fa8072]“A true King rules from the hearts of his people.”[/color][/b]

[b][color=#daa520]“And how should I gain the hearts of the people?”[/color][/b] Thor asked wrapping his hand around hers. 

[b][color=#fa8072]“Keep them safe,”[/color][/b] The raven haired woman replied. [b][color=#fa8072]“Show them your strength.”[/color][/b]

Thor laughed, as he laid back down on the bed, Sif shifting her body to lay her head on his bare chest as her fingers traced the outline of his muscles beneath the heavy fur blanket.

[b][color=#fa8072]“Do not make war, my love.”[/color][/b] Sif stated as wrapped her arm around Thor, [b][color=#fa8072]“Protect them, but do not bring war.”[/color][/b] She repeated. [b][color=#fa8072]“End it.”[/color][/b]

Smiling, Thor laid his head back, closing his eyes as sleep threatened to engulf him once more. An odd sensation of peace had washed over him before a pain in his chest suddenly caused Thor to sit up. His home disappeared around him, replaced by a grim sky looming over jagged stones that reached towards it like a wolf’s teeth outstretched towards a meat-laden bone. Fog swirled around his feet as verdant flames danced around him. A cold embrace suddenly washed over him as Thor felt hands grasping at his feet.

Suddenly thunder echoed across the sky, rain falling as Thor looked upwards. Lightning blinding him as inaudible words were whispered into his ear. Thunder rocked the sky again as Thor felt his feet coming loose, the words growing loud as he began to float upwards.

[sub][color=#4682b4]“Come back to me...”[/color][/sub]

[INDENT][b][color=#9932cc]“You will make a great king one day, my son.”[/color][/b]

[INDENT][color=#4682b4]“Come back to me.”[/color]

[INDENT][b][color=#ff4500]“It is good to have you back my friend.”[/color][/b]

[INDENT][b][color=#4682b4]“Come back to me!”[/color][/b][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT]
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Thunder echoed over the Raft as Barbara’s voice rang in Thor’s ears. His eyes snapped open, the lightning within them renewed as he watched the Surfer’s arm plunge into his chest before it began to return its tangible state. Reacting at the speed of lightning, the God of Thunder took ahold of the Surfer’s wrist, moving the herald's hand out of the path of his heart before the hand solidified. Gasping in agony as the Surfer's arm materialized between his ribs, Thor roared through the pain as he pulled his foe in closer, reaching up as he wrapped his other hand around the herald’s neck.

Rising to his feet, Thor drove his head into the bridge of the Surfer’s nose, an audible crack echoing across the broken prison before it was lost to the howling winds and unrelenting thunder above. Yelling as the Surfer's blood covered arm sunk deeper between his ribs, Thor attacked again. Lost to his own bloodwrath, Thor drove his skull into the Surfer's head once more, then twice, then thrice. A bolt of lightning descended from the sky, striking the pair only for the energy to explode forth from Thor as he delivered yet another strike with his head. 

Pulling his aching skull back, Thor stood with his hand still around the Surfer’s throat as the broken herald hung limply in his grasp, blood staining his armor as it poured freely from his side as the Surfer's arm was removed. Both the Surfer and Thor had faces covered in a layer of silver-tainted blood as the Son of Odin looked down on the Surfer, relishing his victory, his chest heaving up and down as flared nostrils greedily inhaled the air around them. 

[b][color=#daa520]“You have been a worthy adversary, Surfer. Your death will be quick, you have earned that kindness.”[/color][/b][/INDENT][/INDENT]