734The halls of the enemy command center were narrow, dimly lit, and eerily quiet except for the muffled sounds of the battle raging outside. Thor led the way, his massive frame taking up most of the hallway as he moved with purpose. His grip on Mjolnir was tight, the legendary hammer glowing faintly with the power of thunder. Behind him, Asia followed closely, keeping to the center where she was safest, her eyes darting nervously around as they advanced. Freya took up the rear, her violet eyes sharp as she scanned the area behind them for any sign of pursuit.
They encountered several groups of soldiers along the way, but Thor dealt with them swiftly. The first group—a mix of Dark Elves and Ice Giants—charged at them from a side corridor. Thor didn't hesitate. With a mighty swing of Mjolnir, he sent a shockwave down the hall, shattering the front line of enemies into dust. Freya was right behind him, materializing her magical bow in a burst of shimmering light. With deadly precision, she loosed a volley of magic arrows that burst into flames upon impact, searing through the remaining enemies like they were nothing.
Asia stayed close, her magic primed and ready to heal if necessary, though Thor and Freya handled the combat with practiced ease. Thor's strength was unmatched, and Freya's magic was nothing short of terrifying. Arrows of ice, fire, and lightning shot from her bow, each one carrying devastating effects. Together, they were an unstoppable force, cutting through the command center's defenders with little resistance.
The deeper they went, the more elaborate the corridors became. The walls were lined with intricate carvings, and the air grew heavier with magic. They were getting closer.
Finally, they reached a set of massive wooden doors, far larger and more imposing than any of the others they had encountered. The wood was old and intricately carved, and there was no mistaking its significance. This was the heart of the command center, the place where the leaders of the rebellion resided.
Thor approached the door with a snarl, raising Mjolnir high above his head. With a single, thunderous swing, he brought the hammer down, splintering the doors into pieces that flew inward with a deafening crash. The sound echoed through the chamber beyond, and when the dust settled, Thor, Freya, and Asia stepped into the room.
On the other side of the broken doors, four massive figures sat upon thrones, their expressions cold and calculating as they gazed at the intruders. Each one of them was distinct, their presence heavy with power. They were the leaders of the invasion, the rulers of their respective realms—Niflheim, Jotunheim, Muspelheim, and Svartalfheim.
The most imposing of the four sat in the center, a towering figure clad in red battle armor, his eyes burning with the intensity of molten lava. His fiery presence made it clear that he was the leader of Muspelheim, a fire giant of immense power. He looked down at Thor and the others with a smug expression, as if he had been expecting them.
"So," the fire giant rumbled, his voice deep and resonant. "We were wondering what all the commotion was."
Thor stepped forward, his eyes blazing with fury. "Surtur," he growled, addressing the fire giant by name. His gaze shifted to each of the other leaders in turn. "Loki of Jotunheim, Angrboda of Niflheim, Sindri of Svartalfheim... I see you all here. What is the meaning of this? How dare you be so bold as to invade Asgard!" His voice thundered through the room, the raw power in his tone shaking the very walls. "Asgard has protected you, provided for you, and ensured the safety of the Nine Realms for eons. This kind of betrayal is unforgivable."
The fire giant, Surtur, narrowed his eyes, his lips curling into a snarl. "Protected us? Provided for us?" he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "You speak as if Asgard is our savior. As if we asked for your so-called protection." He stood from his throne, his massive form towering over them all. "Asgard did not come to save us. You invaded our lands. You enslaved our people. And then, in your arrogance, you had the audacity to claim that you were 'providing' for us."
Freya's eyes widened at the accusation, but Thor remained unfazed, his gaze locked on Surtur. "You're twisting the truth," Thor shot back, his voice low and dangerous. "Asgard didn't invade your lands. We stepped in to end the chaos of the Nine Realms. We brought peace when there was none. We ended your endless civil wars and brought order where there was only destruction. We didn't enslave you. We united the realms under a single banner—so that we could all thrive together."
Loki, seated beside Surtur, chuckled darkly, his icy blue eyes gleaming with malice. "Is that what you tell yourself, Thor?" he asked, his voice smooth and mocking. "That you are the heroes of this story? That Asgard's rule is benevolent? Perhaps that's how it looks from your golden halls. But from where we stand, Asgard is nothing more than a prison, and we are its prisoners."
"Enough!" Thor's voice boomed, silencing Loki. "This is madness. Asgard has done nothing but protect the realms for centuries. We ended your wars. We brought stability. And you repay us with rebellion?"
Angrboda, the leader of Niflheim, leaned forward, her cold eyes narrowing. "Stability?" she hissed. "You call this stability? My people freeze in the dark, forgotten by your golden halls. We are nothing but a distant memory to Asgard. The Nine Realms have suffered under your rule for far too long, Thor. That ends now."
Sindri of Svartalfheim, the quietest of the four, nodded in agreement. "You claim to protect us, but you've done nothing but take from us. Asgard's time is over. It's time for a new era."
Thor took a step forward, Mjolnir crackling with energy. "You will never win this war. You cannot defeat Asgard."
Surtur laughed, a low, rumbling sound that reverberated through the chamber. "We don't need to defeat Asgard, Thor," he said, his fiery eyes gleaming with confidence. "We just need to burn it to the ground."
The heated exchange between Thor and the leaders of the rebellion continued, tension thickening in the air with every word. Surtur's fiery rage was mirrored by the other leaders, each one convinced of their righteousness in the face of Asgard's dominance. Thor stood his ground, defiant and unwavering, but the debate seemed to spiral endlessly, with neither side willing to yield.
But then, something shifted.
A sudden surge of power filled the air, cutting through the arguing like a blade. It wasn't gradual—it hit them all at once, like an explosion of energy that rippled through the command center. Everyone froze, eyes widening as they felt it—a presence unlike anything they had ever experienced before.
The power was indescribable. It didn't belong to any of the familiar races of the Nine Realms. It wasn't the divine magic of the gods, nor the dark, malevolent energy of devils or fallen angels. It wasn't angelic, nor did it have the signature aura of anything tied to the realms of Niflheim or Muspelheim. Instead, it felt like an amalgamation—several types of magic, all fused into one overwhelming force.
And the strength. It was staggering, immense, easily on the level of a major god. It was as if a storm had descended upon them, a tidal wave of energy that threatened to drown everything in its path.
"What... is that?" Surtur growled, his fiery eyes widening in alarm.
Before anyone could answer, the terrifying screams began. It came from outside, from the battlefield where Shin had stayed behind to hold off the enemy forces. The agonized, pained cries of uncountable numbers of soldiers filled the air, a haunting chorus of suffering.
The leaders of the rebellion exchanged panicked glances, their earlier bravado melting away in the face of the unknown. "What is going on out there?" Angrboda hissed, her voice trembling with unease. "What kind of monster did the Asgardians bring with them?"
Sindri of Svartalfheim stood from his throne, his usually calm demeanor giving way to fear. "This power... it's impossible. No one should be able to wield this much!"
The screams continued, growing louder and more desperate, until suddenly... they stopped.
The silence that followed was deafening. It was as if the entire battlefield had been swallowed by a void, with no sound, no movement, nothing. The oppressive energy lingered in the air, a heavy, suffocating weight that pressed down on everyone in the room.
Thor, Freya, and Asia exchanged glances, their confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. They all knew the answer, even if it seemed impossible.
"Shin..." Freya whispered, her voice barely audible.
"It has to be him," Thor muttered, his brow furrowed in disbelief.
Asia, standing behind them, felt her heart race in her chest. "But how? How is Shin putting out that much power?"
Thor clenched his fists, his mind racing. Just yesterday, he and Shin had sparred. Thor had been far ahead in strength, dominating their match with ease. And yet, the power Thor was sensing now... it rivaled that of major gods.
"This doesn't make sense," Thor said, his voice filled with confusion. "Yesterday... he was strong, but nowhere near this. How could Shin have changed so much in such a short time?"
Freya's violet eyes flickered with concern. "Whatever's happening, it's not normal. He's tapping into something... something we don't understand."
Surtur, watching their exchange with growing alarm, took a step forward. "Who is this Shin?" he demanded, his voice shaking with barely contained fear. "What kind of creature have you unleashed upon us?"
Thor didn't answer immediately. His mind was still reeling from the surge of power that had enveloped the battlefield. This was Shin's magic—he was certain of it. But the level of power he was putting out now was far beyond anything Thor had ever seen from him before.
Surtur snarled, his fiery aura flaring as his fear morphed back into anger. "You brought this monster here to slaughter my people!"
The room fell into a tense silence as everyone processed what had just transpired. The leaders of the rebellion, once confident in their invasion, now stood on uncertain ground, their plan suddenly in jeopardy. Whatever was happening out there with Shin, it had rattled them to their core.
The atmosphere in the chamber was thick with fear, a palpable tension that seemed to grip everyone in the room. The leaders of the rebellion—Surtur, Loki, Angrboda, and Sindri—stood frozen, their eyes wide as the oppressive magic in the air continued to press down on them. The earlier bravado they had displayed was now replaced with growing terror as the sound of the battlefield outside suddenly fell deathly silent.
One second, the air had been filled with the agonizing screams of the enemy forces, the sounds of battle and destruction echoing through the halls. And then... nothing. The silence was abrupt, unnatural. It was as if the very life had been sucked out of the battlefield, leaving only an eerie, hollow void.
Thor, who had been staring down the dark hallway that led deeper into the command center, slowly turned back to the leaders. His lips curled into a smirk, his blue eyes gleaming with a mixture of satisfaction and something darker. "You want to know what monster we brought?" Thor's voice was low, dangerous, and carried a weight that sent shivers down everyone's spine. "Well, from the sound of it... you're about to meet him."
The leaders exchanged fearful glances, their earlier confidence crumbling under the weight of the unknown. Surtur's fiery aura flickered unsteadily, and even Loki, usually so calm and composed, looked unsettled. The oppressive magic that hung in the air was unlike anything they had ever felt before—it was suffocating, choking the very air from their lungs. And it was getting closer.
Their hearts pounded in their chests, each beat growing louder as the oppressive power grew stronger. The leaders could feel it—a presence, terrifying and monstrous, slowly making its way toward them. The walls seemed to close in, and the air itself felt heavier, thicker with each passing second.
Then, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway, each footstep landing on the ground with a wet slap, as if the figure approaching was drenched in blood. The sound cut through the silence like a knife, every step landing with an almost deliberate weight, sending a jolt of fear through the room.
The leaders stood frozen, their breath catching in their throats as the footsteps drew nearer. They could feel the magic—no, the power—radiating from whatever was coming toward them. It was oppressive, suffocating, and as it grew closer, so did the fear gnawing at their insides.
Then, they saw it—a flicker of red light in the distance, faint at first, like a distant storm on the horizon. The light grew brighter with every second, flashing intermittently as if signaling the approach of something unstoppable. Suddenly, arcs of red lightning shot out from the side of the hallway, illuminating the walls with brief, violent flashes of crimson light. The energy was wild, uncontrolled, as if it was struggling to break free from its source.
And then they saw him.
A figure slowly rounded the corner, his entire form shrouded in shadows, his outline barely visible beneath the crackling arcs of red lightning that exploded outward in every direction. The red hue of light that surrounded him flickered ominously, casting brief, sharp glances of his form before plunging him back into shadow. But what little they could see struck fear into the hearts of even the most hardened warriors.
Two glowing red blades were clutched in his hands, the Crimson Flames of Destruction licking hungrily at the edges of the swords. The fire was unnatural, burning with an intensity that seemed to eat away at the very air around it. Each flicker of flame sent waves of destructive energy rippling through the room, and every step the figure took seemed to reverberate with raw power.
But it was his eyes—those glowing red eyes—that sent true terror through the hearts of the rebellion leaders. They flickered with red lightning, crackling with energy that seemed barely contained. The power radiating from him was so intense that the lightning arcs weren't just dancing around his body—they were exploding out of him in every direction, striking the walls, the floor, and everything in between. The scene was chaotic, wild, and horrifying.
Shin Hyoudou walked toward them, his presence more terrifying than any force they had ever encountered. His black hair hung messily around his face, damp with what appeared to be blood. His figure remained obscured by shadows, but the arcs of red lightning continued to provide brief, unsettling glimpses of his form. His swords dripped with power, the flames licking at the metal like they were alive, burning everything they touched.
The leaders of the rebellion were frozen in place, their eyes wide with terror. None of them could move, could speak. Surtur's molten eyes flickered nervously as he stepped back, the fire giant's once formidable strength faltering in the face of this... thing that was approaching them.
Freya, standing behind Thor, felt her heart skip a beat as she took in the sight of Shin. This was not the Shin she had known—the confident, witty warrior who had fought beside them. This was something far more dangerous. Something primal. Even Thor, who had sparred with Shin countless times, couldn't hide the shock that crossed his face. He had always known Shin was strong, but this? This was beyond anything he had ever expected.
"Shin..." Asia whispered, her voice trembling as she clutched her hands together, feeling the weight of his power from across the room. The air around him was thick with the scent of ozone, like the aftermath of a lightning storm, and she could barely comprehend the sheer magnitude of the magic he was exuding.
Shin continued to walk forward, his pace steady, his gaze fixed on the leaders of the rebellion. He didn't say a word, but he didn't need to. The sight of him alone was enough to bring grown gods and giants to their knees in fear. The magic flowing from him was chaotic, volatile, and destructive—and it was only growing stronger.
He stopped just a few feet from the leaders, the red lightning still arcing off of him, the flames of destruction licking at the edges of his blades. His glowing red eyes flicked toward Surtur, who stood frozen in place, his fiery form trembling with fear.
The silence in the room was deafening. Everyone held their breath, waiting for Shin's next move, unsure of whether they were about to witness salvation—or annihilation.
Surtur's gaze was fixed on Shin, the fire giant's body trembling under the oppressive force of the power radiating off him. He could barely breathe, the weight of the magic pressing down on his chest like a heavy stone. The room was filled with an unnatural tension, the kind that comes when death is just a breath away. The fire giant swallowed hard, his voice breaking as he asked, "What... what happened to my men?"
Shin's glowing red eyes flicked up, meeting Surtur's gaze with cold indifference. His voice was calm, almost eerily so, as he responded. "Dead," he said simply. "All of them."
The words rang out through the chamber, bringing a deafening silence that hung in the air like a thick fog. Surtur's breath hitched in his throat. Dead? All of them? His entire force—over 10,000 strong—wiped out in such a short amount of time? The warriors in that ambush were no weaklings. They were all high-class at the very least, some even bordering on ultimate-class. How could one person have killed them all?
Surtur's eyes darted to the others, his once-fiery confidence replaced by panic and disbelief. "How..." he stammered, his voice weak. "How could one man...?"
Shin didn't give him the luxury of an answer. His expression remained cold, unyielding. He took a step closer, the red lightning still crackling around him, filling the air with dangerous energy.
Surtur, feeling the sheer gravity of the situation, tried to backtrack. His massive form shuddered as sweat dripped down his molten skin. "What... what do you want?" he asked, his voice trembling. "We don't want to make an enemy of you."
Shin's eyes narrowed. "Too late," he said, his voice sharp and final. "You attacked Asgard. You're already enemy number one."
Surtur's heart pounded in his chest as fear gripped him. He could feel his control slipping away, the reality of their doomed situation sinking in. The rebellion... the invasion... it was all a grievous mistake. And now, standing before him, was the result of their folly.
"It was a grievous mistake," Surtur pleaded, his voice cracking. "We were foolish—consumed by greed, by stupidity. We have learned our lesson, I swear it! We will call off the army immediately. We'll never—"
Shin's voice cut through his begging, sharp and cold. "There's no need."
In a flash of red lightning, Shin disappeared from his spot on the ground, reappearing suddenly on Surtur's broad shoulder. The fire giant froze, his molten eyes wide with terror as he realized what had just happened. Shin hadn't teleported—it wasn't his usual technique. No, this was something else. Pure speed. He had moved so fast that Thor and Asia, standing nearby, barely registered the motion.
Thor's eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. "That... wasn't teleportation," he muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Asia, standing beside him, stared at Shin's form in shock. "How...?" she whispered.
Shin stood tall on Surtur's shoulder, his gaze cold and unfeeling as he looked down at the giant below him. "There's no place for traitors like you in the Nine Realms," he said, his voice filled with chilling finality. "You were never to be trusted again. And for your arrogance, you will be punished."
Surtur opened his mouth to plead, but before he could utter a word, a large red slash of destructive energy flew from Shin's sword. The crimson wave of energy cut through the air with a fierce hiss, moving too fast for the eye to follow. It arced out toward Surtur's neck, the flames of destruction dissipating into the air just as quickly as they had appeared.
For a moment, everything was still. No one moved, no one breathed. Then, slowly, blood began to trickle from a thin line across Surtur's neck. The giant's eyes widened in shock as his head, once firmly attached, slid from his shoulders with a sickening crack, falling to the ground with a deafening crash. His body swayed for a moment before it, too, collapsed to the floor, a pool of molten blood spreading beneath it.
The remaining three leaders—Loki, Angrboda, and Sindri—stood frozen in place, their faces pale with terror. The sight of Surtur's decapitated body sent them into a panic. Without hesitation, they scrambled to escape, running in every direction, desperate to flee from the nightmare unfolding before them.
But Shin was faster.
In another flash of red lightning, three more crimson waves shot through the air, each one as swift and lethal as the last. The room was filled with the sickening sounds of flesh being cut, the faint crack of bone, and then... silence.
One by one, the heads of the remaining leaders slid from their necks, crashing to the ground with dull thuds. Their bodies collapsed soon after, lifeless and broken, blood pooling beneath them.
Shin stood in the center of the chaos, his twin swords still glowing with the flames of destruction, his red eyes glowing in the dim light. His expression didn't change—there was no satisfaction, no anger. Only cold, calculated resolve. He looked down at the decapitated heads of the four leaders, his lips curling in disgust.
But it wasn't just his deadly precision that caught the attention of those in the room—it was the marks on his back. Now, with his figure turned slightly away from his companions, they could see the true source of his power.
On Shin's back, glowing brilliantly, were the markings of his Sacred Gear. In the center of his back, the Greek symbol for Unity pulsed with radiant light, surrounded by intricate magical inscriptions that seemed to hum with energy. Surrounding the symbol of Unity were three more symbols, each one glowing with distinct power.
The first symbol, Control, signified Shin's mastery over his body and magic. The second, Spirit, granted him the ability to adapt and integrate anything foreign into his being. The third, Fertility, had awakened recently, though its effects were still unknown.
But to Asia's shock, there was a fourth symbol—one that hadn't been there before.
Asia's heart pounded in her chest as she stared at the new marking. She leaned toward Freya, her voice a whisper filled with uncertainty. "Freya," she asked softly, "do you know what that marking on his back means? The one in the top right?"
Freya's eyes narrowed as she studied the symbol. "It's Greek," she said, her voice barely above a breath. "It stands for Strength."
Asia's eyes widened as the realization sank in. Another part of Shin's Sacred Gear had awakened—a new symbol, Strength. That was why his power had exploded so suddenly, why his magic had grown so intense. This wasn't just a temporary surge of power... this was Shin's new strength. The symbol for Strength granted him both magical and physical power, pushing him to levels beyond anything they had ever imagined.
The group stood in stunned silence, their eyes fixed on Shin's glowing back. His power was no longer just potential—it was real, terrifying, and unyielding. And as they watched him stand amidst the chaos he had wrought, it became clear that this was only the beginning.
The oppressive tension in the room dissipated as Shin turned to face Thor, Freya, and Asia. The red lightning that had been crackling around him began to fade, though the faint glow of his Sacred Gear's markings still lingered on his back. With a sheepish grin, Shin rubbed the back of his neck, his previous deadly seriousness evaporating. "I guess they were a lot weaker than I thought they were," he said with a hint of embarrassment in his voice.
Thor, still standing amidst the chaos of the decapitated leaders, shook his head and let out a low chuckle. "Weaker?" he said, his deep voice carrying a note of disbelief. "Shin, each of them was on the lower levels of Ultimate-class."
Shin's eyes widened in shock. "Wait, what?" He blinked, looking at the bodies of Surtur and the others in disbelief. "They were Ultimate-class?"
Thor nodded, still grinning slightly. "Aye. And not weak ones either. They've caused trouble for Asgard for centuries. That you were able to defeat them so easily..." Thor trailed off, the awe in his voice evident.
Shin stared at the fallen leaders, his mind racing. He had felt the rush of power during the ambush, a sudden surge that had propelled him through the battle with astonishing ease, but he had no idea it was this strong. The power to cut through four Ultimate-class beings like they were nothing—he hadn't realized he'd grown so powerful. His body still hummed with residual energy from the battle, but now that the adrenaline was starting to fade, he could feel the weight of his actions pressing on him.
Asia stepped forward, her voice soft but filled with concern. "Shin," she said gently, "a new symbol appeared on your back."
Shin's eyes widened again. "Another one?" He instinctively reached back, as if trying to feel the markings on his skin. "I still haven't figured out what the last symbol does... and now another one?" His voice was filled with both surprise and frustration. His Sacred Gear was becoming more and more mysterious with each passing day, and while it was undeniably powerful, the uncertainty around it was growing.
"What's the symbol this time?" Shin asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
Freya stepped forward, her violet eyes focused on Shin's glowing back. "It's the Greek symbol for Strength," she said calmly, though her voice carried an undertone of awe.
Shin became contemplative, his gaze turning inward as he processed the information. "Strength..." he muttered, thinking back to the sudden boost of power he'd felt during the ambush. "That checks out. Awakens a symbol for strength, and suddenly I get strong enough to decapitate four lower Ultimate-class entities like they were nothing."
He exhaled deeply, shaking his head in disbelief. The pieces were starting to fall into place, but the more he learned about his Sacred Gear, the more questions seemed to arise. How many more symbols were there? How powerful could this gear really become?
But now wasn't the time to dwell on those questions. There was still a war raging outside, and the longer they stayed in the command center, the more of their soldiers were dying on the battlefield. Shin's expression hardened as he turned to the others. "We don't have time to figure this out right now," he said, his voice firm. "There's still a war going on. Each second we waste here, more of our men die unnecessary deaths."
Thor nodded in agreement, already moving into action. "What's the plan, Shin?"
"I left a teleportation mark near the battlefield," Shin explained quickly. "If I get in contact with the heads of the leaders, I'll be able to teleport us back there. With the news that their leaders are dead, I doubt the war will continue much longer."
Thor didn't waste a second. He immediately moved toward the decapitated heads of Surtur, Loki, Angrboda, and Sindri, dragging them closer together so they could be transported all at once. The sight of the severed heads was grim, but it was necessary—these four were the architects of the invasion, and their deaths would send a clear message to the rest of the invading army.
Freya stood by, her magic still at the ready, though the immediate danger seemed to have passed. Asia, meanwhile, watched Shin carefully, still processing the immense power she had just witnessed from him. He had changed so much in such a short time, and now with another symbol awakened, the potential of his Sacred Gear seemed limitless.
Once the heads were gathered together, Shin glanced at his companions. "Everyone, put a hand on me," he instructed. "As long as you're in contact with me, you'll teleport with me."
Thor, Freya, and Asia all stepped forward, each placing a hand on Shin's shoulder. The air around them crackled with the faint hum of magic as Shin reached down, his fingers brushing against the four decapitated heads. His eyes glowed with crimson energy as he activated the teleportation circle he had left behind.
In a brilliant flash of crimson lightning, they vanished from the command center, the air around them sparking with the remnants of Shin's destructive energy.
(Scene Break)
The news of the leaders' deaths spread like wildfire across the battlefield, sending shockwaves through the invading forces. Soldiers who had once charged forward with confidence now faltered, their weapons growing heavy in their hands. The sight of Surtur's head—followed by the heads of Loki, Angrboda, and Sindri—rolling lifelessly onto the ground broke whatever resolve they had left. Without their leaders, without the architects of this rebellion, they no longer had the will to fight. They were defeated.
Within moments, the battlefield fell silent. The invading forces, once fierce and determined, dropped their weapons, surrendering en masse. As the realization of their victory washed over the Asgardian forces, a roar of celebration erupted from the Norse warriors. The ground beneath their feet trembled as the thunderous cheer rang out, voices raised in triumph. Weapons were raised in the air, shields clashed together, and the victorious cry echoed across the realms.
What started as a cheer of relief and triumph quickly grew into something more—a full-blown celebration. The taste of victory was sweet, and the soldiers reveled in it.
Amidst the celebration, Shin, Asia, Thor, and Freya stood atop a grand podium, the crowd of warriors and civilians alike gathered before them in eager anticipation. Odin himself stood at the head of the gathering, his powerful presence commanding respect and admiration from all in attendance. Each of the four warriors had played an integral part in the survival of Asgard, and now, it was time for them to be recognized.
Odin raised a hand, silencing the jubilant crowd for a moment. His voice boomed, carried on the wind like a force of nature itself. "Today, Asgard stands strong, victorious in the face of betrayal and invasion. And it is thanks to the bravery of those who stand before you that we have triumphed."
The crowd cheered again, though the focus was now on the four figures atop the podium.
Odin turned first to Thor. "Thor, son of Odin, my pride and joy. For your leadership on the battlefield, your strength, and your unyielding courage, Asgard is forever grateful. You led us through this trial with wisdom and might, as only you could."
Thor raised Mjolnir high into the air, the crowd cheering for their beloved god of thunder. He flashed a grin, his massive frame radiating pride.
Next, Odin turned to Freya. "Freya, goddess of love and war, your unwavering courage and magic guided us through the darkest of moments. Your support, both in battle and behind it, is a beacon for all of Asgard to follow."
Freya gave a graceful nod, a small smile playing on her lips as she accepted the praise. The crowd roared in appreciation, acknowledging the formidable power and poise of the goddess.
Then Odin's gaze fell on Asia, and his voice softened with deep respect. "And Asia Argento, healer of Asgard, your magic saved thousands of lives on this day. Your healing hands reached the farthest corners of the battlefield, bringing life where there was none. For this, not only Asgard, but all realms owe you a debt of gratitude."
Asia's cheeks flushed as the crowd's cheers grew even louder. She had spent the aftermath of the battle moving tirelessly among the injured, healing thousands, saving those who would have otherwise perished. Her reverence among the Asgardians was already growing, but now, with word of her deeds spreading to the other realms, it wouldn't be long before she was worshiped as a true goddess of healing.
The crowd's appreciation was palpable, and Asia felt the weight of their admiration settling over her. She had never asked for this kind of attention, but now it was undeniable—her name, her magic, had reached the hearts of many.
Finally, Odin's gaze turned to Shin. The entire field seemed to quiet as Odin's voice echoed, filled with the gravitas of what had been accomplished. "And lastly, Shin Hyoudou." Odin's tone carried both pride and respect. "For your courage, your bravery, and your sacrifice. For standing against insurmountable odds, for facing down an army of 10,000, and for buying your comrades the time needed to end this war. You, Shin, single-handedly turned the tide of this battle."
The crowd was silent for a heartbeat, the weight of Shin's actions sinking in for all to hear. Then, as if in unison, a deafening roar of approval erupted from the crowd, louder than any before it. The entire field was alive with praise for Shin, weapons raised in his honor, voices calling out his name.
Odin stepped forward, placing a hand on Shin's shoulder. "For your service, I name you the Protector of Asgard."
Another thunderous roar echoed across the field, the crowd lifting their mugs and goblets high into the air. "To Shin!" they called out, their voices shaking the heavens. "To the Protector of Asgard!"
Booze flowed freely as the celebration continued, drinks raised in Shin's honor as the warriors of Asgard drank to their victory. Shin, standing on the podium amidst the cheers and admiration, couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of pride and disbelief. He hadn't expected this. He hadn't expected to be hailed a hero, let alone the Protector of Asgard.
Thor clapped a massive hand on Shin's shoulder, grinning widely. "Looks like you've earned yourself a place here, brother."
Freya stood nearby, her violet eyes fixed on Shin, but this time, there was something different in her gaze. Her expression wasn't just one of approval—it was something far more intense, far more primal. Shin could practically feel her eyes devouring his entire form, tracing the lines of his muscles, the energy that still crackled faintly around him. Ever since he had awakened the new symbol, she had been giving him those glances—predatory, almost hungry, as if she were a lioness eyeing her next meal.
It wasn't hard to figure out what had changed. Freya, the Goddess of Love and War, was also a power junkie. And Shin's newfound strength had clearly caught her attention. Her eyes gleamed with a desire that wasn't just for him, but for the raw power radiating off of him. She looked at him like he was a piece of meat she wanted to consume.
Freya's lips curled into a smile, one that sent a shiver down Shin's spine. "It seems you've made quite the impact," she said, her voice smooth and sultry, but beneath it was something far more dangerous—a hunger that went beyond admiration.
Shin could feel the weight of her gaze, could sense the subtle shift in her demeanor. This wasn't just about respect. Freya wanted him, or more specifically, the power he now wielded. He could see it in her eyes, the way she lingered just a little too long, the way her gaze flicked over him like he was something to be claimed.
He forced a chuckle, pushing the thought aside for the moment, though the intensity of Freya's stare didn't go unnoticed.
Asia, still glowing from her own recognition, stepped closer, her eyes filled with genuine admiration as she looked at Shin. Her warmth was a stark contrast to the cold hunger in Freya's gaze. "You deserve this, Shin," she said softly, her voice filled with pride for him.
Shin smiled back at her, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "I guess so," he said, though his mind still lingered on the predatory glances Freya had been giving him. For now, though, he let himself focus on the moment of victory, savoring the triumph that filled the air around them.
But even as the celebration roared on, the weight of Freya's gaze never quite left his mind.
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