The air in Fjellheim was thick with dread, the tension palpable as the Norse troops descended upon the village. Their presence was suffocating, the clatter of their armor a grim echo of past horrors.
Behind them stood Odin, his imposing figure radiating power and authority, his single eye surveying the terrified townspeople with cold indifference. I stood hidden behind a crumbled wall, my heart pounding in my chest.
I could see the fear etched into the faces of the villagers—the same fear they had carried the first time Odin's forces arrived. But this time, they had someone willing to fight for them.
Homura stepped forward, her staff in hand, her presence commanding as she placed herself between the troops and the townspeople. Her silver hair gleamed in the morning light, and her eyes burned with a defiance that made even the most hardened soldier hesitate.
Odin's gaze landed on her, and for a brief moment, there was recognition. His lips curled into a smirk as he took a step forward, the troops moving aside in perfect unison.
"Well, well," Odin said, his voice carrying a chilling mix of mockery and amusement. "Homura. It seems there were other survivors after all. I should have known Frode's wife would be stubborn enough to linger."
Homura's grip tightened on her staff, but she stood tall, unyielding. "And I should have known the Allfather would stoop so low as to hunt down the defenseless. You haven't changed even after all these centuries, Odin."
His smirk faltered, replaced by a cold, calculating expression. "You dare challenge me? I gave you mercy once by sparing this village. Do not mistake that for weakness."
Homura scoffed, eyes narrowing.
"Oh yes, how merciful of you. Just like how you forced Y/n to marry your son despite fully knowing what you did to the Yggdrasil Healers." Her voice dripped with sarcasm, her contempt unmistakable.
Odin chuckled, shaking his head.
"Forced?" He tilted his head, amusement flickering in his single eye. "I never forced her to do anything. She accepted the deal I proposed. Just like you accepted yours all those years ago."
Homura's jaw clenched, but she refused to rise to his bait.
Instead, she turned her head slightly, shouting over her shoulder to the villagers. "Run! Get to safety!"
Without hesitation, the townspeople bolted into action, their panicked footsteps thundering through the village as they fled.
Odin narrowed his eye. "You've overstepped, Homura. Let's see if your defiance is as strong as your resolve."
With a flick of his wrist, Odin summoned Gungnir, his legendary spear, and the battle began.
Homura moved with a grace that belied her age, her staff glowing with ancestral power as she parried Odin's strikes. The clash of weapons reverberated through the village, sparks flying as their powers collided.
I watched from my hiding spot, my heart lodged in my throat. I had never seen her like this—so fierce, so unrelenting. But the sight filled me with dread.
Odin was relentless, his strikes calculated and merciless.
The troops stood back, their faces blank, offering no reaction as they awaited orders. Among them, I recognized far too many—soldiers I had once healed from the brink of death, men whose lives I had saved, now watching in silence as their god waged war against an old woman.
As the battle raged on, it became clear that Homura was slowing. Her breaths came heavier, and her movements less fluid. My stomach twisted as Odin's spear glowed with deadly intent.
"No!" I cried out, stepping from my hiding place just as Odin lunged.
Homura turned at the sound of my voice, her expression one of both sorrow and horror.
"Stay back, Y/n!" she shouted.
But it was too late.
Gungnir pierced through Homura's chest. Time seemed to slow as blood bloomed from the wound, her body jerking from the force of the strike. My scream tore through the air as she collapsed, crimson pooling beneath me, staining my clothes and hands.
"Grandma!" I rushed forward, my anguish overriding my fear.
I didn't care about the danger—I couldn't just stand by. Fueled by rage and desperation, I picked up my staff and charged at Odin. My attacks were wild, driven by emotion rather than strategy.
He dodged them effortlessly. With a cruel smirk, he caught my staff mid-swing—and shattered it with his bare hands.
Agony tore through me, a searing pain that felt like a part of my very soul had been ripped away.
I collapsed to my knees, clutching my chest as the broken pieces clattered to the ground. Around me, the soldiers reacted—some flinched, others looked away, their hands tightening on their weapons.
A few exchanged uneasy glances, but none dared to step forward. They had seen enough of Odin's wrath to know better.
Flames. Screams. The stench of burning flesh.
Amidst the inferno, a shadowy figure with dark, black hair loomed over the destruction, exuding malevolence.
It's him again.
The figure moved with lethal grace, seizing an elder by the throat and lifting him into the air with effortless strength. The elder's eyes—wide, pleading—locked onto mine through the fire and chaos.
A silent message, a desperate warning. "Run."
The whisper rang in my mind, distant yet unmistakable. A voice I hadn't fully understood before. A voice that, in this moment, I knew belonged to Frode, my grandfather.
The weight of realization slammed into me as my vision snapped back to the present. Odin stepped closer, his shadow swallowing me whole. And in that moment, I saw him again—not as the god before me, but as the specter from my nightmares. The one who had done this before.
Had I been dreaming of this moment all along? Had fate already written my end, just as it had for him?
The blood in my veins turned to ice. I was no longer the girl running from the shadow. I am my grandfather now.
The same helplessness gnawed at my core. I was the one being lifted, just as he had been.
Without hesitation, Odin grabbed me by the throat and lifted me off the ground as if I weighed nothing. Odin lips curled into a smirk as he tilted his head mockingly.
"Tell me, little healer... does this moment feel familiar to you?" His voice dripped with cruel amusement.
My breath caught in my throat. My body stiffened.
No...
My vision blurred at the edges as the nightmare resurfaced—the burning village, the shadowy figure lifting my grandfather by the throat, the helpless plea in his eyes.
Run...Run...Run...
My stomach twisted violently. Odin chuckled at my reaction, his fingers tightening around my neck as he hoisted me into the air with ease.
"You've always been weak," he sneered, his voice low and menacing. "Even after all that training with the Valkyries, by your own account, you are still nothing." His grip tightened. "Just like the rest of your clan. Did you really think you could escape me?"
He pulled me closer, his breath hot against my ear. "After all, I was the one who massacred the Yggdrasil Healers," he whispered, savoring every word. Then, with a mock tilt of his head, he added, "But you already figured that out by now, didn't you?"
His words hit like a hammer, but it was the next moment that broke me entirely. With a wave of his hand, a burning sensation seared through the back of my neck.
Thor's marking—our bond—was being erased.
The pain was excruciating, worse than anything I had ever known. A raw, guttural cry ripped from my throat as tears streamed down my face. My body went limp, my strength utterly spent.
Odin let me fall, discarding me like a broken doll. I wheezed, my vision blurring as he knelt and rifled through my belongings. When he found the scroll, his smirk returned.
"You weren't such a useless daughter-in-law after all," he mused, holding the scroll aloft. "So this is what you were hiding, Frode. You were always good at keeping secrets."
Then, something caught his eye. Odin's gaze flickered to my chest, where a faint glimmer peeked from beneath my torn clothing. His expression darkened with intrigue as he reached down and tore the Yggdrasil necklace from my neck without hesitation.
"To think you hid such a valuable item from me," he mused, running his thumb over the engraved patterns of the pendant.
My breath hitched as his grip tightened, his knuckles whitening against the chain.
"This," he murmured, his voice almost reverent, "should never have been in your hands."
A hollow ache bloomed in my chest as I felt its loss—the only connection I had left to my ancestors.
"I'll be taking this too."
I faintly heard him bark orders to his troops, but my focus was elsewhere. My gaze drifted to my grandmother, who lay motionless in a pool of blood.
"Grandma... I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..." I whispered, my voice broken.
As darkness threatened to consume me, voices—ancient and powerful—pierced through the haze. These were not the familiar whispers of my ancestors; these voices were unfamiliar, deeper, older, carrying a weight I had never felt before.
"Rise, child of Yggdrasil."
"You must not fall here."
"Stand, Y/n. This fight is not over yet."
The voices resonated deep within me, their power surging through my veins. My fingers twitched, my body responding to the command.
Then— A force unlike anything I had felt before tore through me.
A searing heat exploded in my chest, raw and overwhelming. The ground beneath me trembled, cracks spidering through the dirt as an ethereal blue light seeped through. The air pulsed with energy, thick with something primal—something beyond me.
My body felt like it was being pushed past its limits, an overdrive I had no control over.
Odin and his troops froze. Their gazes snapped toward me in shock as my feet slowly lifted off the ground. The energy roared through me, weightless yet crushing, bending the very air around me.
Then I moved. Faster than I thought. Before Odin could react, my fist collided with his face with an earth-shattering force.
The impact sent him hurtling backward, crashing through debris with a deafening crack.
The battlefield stilled.
The Allfather—Odin—had been struck.
I didn't hesitate. I lunged forward, hand outstretched toward my stolen belongings. The scroll. The necklace. I reached for both— But Odin recovered too quickly.
With a snarl, his grip tightened on the scroll, yanking it out of my reach just as my fingers closed around my necklace.
"You won't take this from me!" I snarled, my voice trembling but resolute.
The warmth of the necklace flared in my grasp, wrapping me in its protective energy. The moment it touched my skin, I knew. I knew where I had to go.
Helheim. My grandmother's words rang in my mind, clear and urgent.
"Enough of this." Odin's voice was ice-cold, filled with finality. His single eye locked onto me with deadly intent. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he raised Gungnir. "Die."
The spear flew through the air, its sharp point aimed directly at my heart. The searing heat of its approach made my breath catch, and for a moment, I thought I wouldn't make it.
The spear grazed my side, tearing through my clothes and flesh just as the light fully engulfed me. The pain was blinding, but I didn't falter.
When the world reformed around me, I collapsed onto the icy ground of Helheim, gasping for breath. My hand pressed against my bleeding side, my vision swimming with pain and exhaustion.
The scroll was lost—but my necklace was still clutched tightly in my other hand, a testament to my resolve.
The frigid air of Helheim bit at my skin, the oppressive darkness pressing down on me. But I made it.
I'm alive.
The faint echo of my ancestor's voices lingered in my mind, urging me forward. The fight wasn't over. It was just beginning.
Author Note: Hellooo Beautiful People!! Hope you liked this chapter. I've been so excited to share this intense, emotional moment with you all. The loss of Homura, the brutal confrontation with Odin—there's a lot to digest. But don't worry, the journey isn't over yet. There's many more twists and surprises to come, and Y/n's path is just beginning to unfold. As always, thank you for your support! Your comments and feedback mean the world to me! I'd love to hear what you're hoping will happen next. See you next Friday!