There was once a time when man would turn to gods for wisdom and guidance: from Greece, to Egypt, to Rome, to Scandinavia. The belief in such entities was so strong that man prayed to them and even worshipped them with question.
While humanity evolved, thrived, and resided on the planet Earth, of what the gods would refer to as Midgard, the gods themselves resided in their own worlds across the rims of the universe and reality itself, lands known as Olympus, Heliopolis, and Asgard. There was a balance; for every death, there would be life; for every sadness, there would be happiness; and for every good deed, there would be evil.
Originally, mankind have had a symbiotic relationship with the gods. But unfortunately, some things don't last forever. A strange group of mortals, calling themselves the Dauoi Raisa, the Death Risers, believed that by worshipping evil, they would be able to bring about that which even the gods feared the most, more than most:
Eventually, the worlds of mortals and gods, Asgardians, Heliopolitans and Olympians alike, would overtime become divided. Great wars would take place causing humanity to doubt the divine grace of their former deities.
Soon enough, the Death Risers would too fall, and with that, the deities that they worshipped were banished forever from the Realms of the Gods. However, even though the Dauoi Raisa fell, they weren't entirely forgotten. There would still be those who would remain waiting, preparing for the opportunity for their gods to rise again, anticipating for the moment that they shall rule Midgard among many other realms and bring about the fall of the old gods.
Man's lack of faith in the Asgardian, Heliopolitan and Olympian gods mean that they could never interfere with choices, decisions, action of mankind. But with or without their direct interference, the threat of Ragnarok still remains to this very day...
Location: Somewhere in Ottawa, Canada
Deep in the dead of night, a pair of dark-grey cars drove through the thick layer of snow in between a few small brick-buildings, bathed under a few dim spotlights. Opening doors from within came out various men, women, and people in various clothing, all silhouetted by atmospheric lights, while wielding various guns, rifles, and even a few swords and blades, trodding their way through the snow.
With weapons cocked and ready, they soon approached a particular building, swiftly and with ease. Soon enough, the innocent people and bystanders within were down to their knees with hands above their heads. One of the gang members, the boss of which, wearing a shirt as bright-red as blood within a tight black leather suit and tie, fired a single shot from his gun up to the ceiling.
"Allright, I want everybody to keep calm and listen clearly," the boss of the gang called out to all the hostages before turning to one of his comrades. "Make an example if you please". With that, the fellow mercenary clubbed a hostage next to him in the gut with the end of their gun till the hostage was soon down to his knees as well as the rest of the hostages flinched and cringed from the painful demonstration.
"Thank you," the boss continued. "Now let that be a reminder to stay calm, keep quiet, and pay complete attention. Everybody clear? Good. We're here looking for a small and rare artefact. Very rare, and it contains an important piece of a great and special puzzle. My friends and I are in the process of putting it all together. It's called the Dragon's Cross. Do any of you here know of it?" Several seconds had passed with uneasy silence. "It'd be a shame to start shooting people; very bad for business after all".
"Excuse me-" one of the hostages stepped in.
"And what might your name be?" the boss interrupted.
"Whittaker, I'm the curator of this museum," the elderly man identified himself.
"Ah, now we might already be getting somewhere..." the boss said. "So, five seconds to tell us where it is".
"If you let these people go-"
"If you jus-"
"Give me a min-"
"The cross, it's in the-"
The boss shot a bullet straight to the curator's right leg, causing him to yell from the striking pain, collapse to one knee, and clutch the wound tightly with one hand. Blood leaked fast and stained around the large patch of trousers before leaving a few drips on the floors.
"A minute?" The boss scoffed. "Who has that amount of time?"
However, looking down at his injured victim, the boss noticed that the curator was grasping something in his coat pocket with his other hand. His eyes focused intently to see a tiny glisten within the weakened grip.
"Now what have we here?" The boss raised a brow with intrigue.
The boss crouched down, inserted into the man's pocket, and pulled out with ease something he was looking for. A peculiar cross-shaped pendant of vague design tied to a dark-silver necklace, in it was embedded a dark gem of complete blackness like a void. The boss managed to take it free from the downed senior's ever-weakening grasp.
"Here we go," the boss spoke with a grin. "The Gods may smile down upon you, my good man". He grinned at the bleeding man. "You may live to flee another day". With that, he and his fellow thugs went off with the pendant, leaving behind the injured senior and the other hostages clearly and freshly shaken with dread and fear.
In the far-off realm of Asgard, things seemed rather more orderly and peaceful as it usually would be. Staring out at the glistening kingdom from his balcony, the eyepatch-wearing god, Odin, took a calm peaceful breath, feeling a mild wind in the very air. His seemingly empty throne stood firmly and permanently right in the centre of this hall of smooth gold and marble.
Soon enough, a few footsteps echoed across the vast court, as three distinct beings donned in elaborate armour and dressing, beings of which one could easily mistake for mere humans of ancient times. However, these beings are indeed more than merely that: Thor, son of Odin, Angela, daughter of Odin and sister of Thor, and Sif, close friend and bodyguard to Thor.
Hearing such steps, Odin turned back to see the people he would consider his family, his closest, and gave away a slight smile of relief before walking to just nest to his own throne. Not necessarily sitting upon it, but resting an arm on its side nonetheless.
"You summoned us, father?" Thor said as he, Sif, and Angela, kneeled down before the Lord of Asgard.
"Yes," Odin confirmed. "Everyday, I grow more and more concerned about the mortal people of Earth, of Midgard. More and more conflict seem to continue on to no end. War after war, event after event, crisis after crisis".
"As do I," Thor replied just before he got up to his feet. "But I still do know many friends and allies there. To protect mankind and its hopes and values, and avenge those in greatest need".
"I've no doubt that you do," Odin nodded. "Putting your faith in the right people".
"There's more to this thought, is there?" Angela spoke up as she too stood up on her own behalf. "I sense it within your voice, father".
"I knew you would," Odin sighed. "I believe our greatest fears may come to fruition much sooner than we would've anticipated".
"Surely, you don't mean..." Thor muttered.
"Oh yes..." Odin openly confirmed. "The Ragnarok, the end of days, a final crisis upon us".
"How are we sure of this, my lord?" Sif questioned. "Was there a clear and explicit sign of this? An omen of sorts?"
"While there are countless mortal alien lifeforms, not just those on the planet Earth, who wish to bring and maintain hope, peace, and order to the universe," Odin continued. "There are still those who may wish to exploit this for evil, for war and chaos, and for tyranny. Plotting retribution upon those who may oppose them, without being retributed themselves".
"Then we shall return to Midgard, to Earth, and contact my fellow heroes there, to let them know of this," Thor declared. "So that in time, we can all be prepared for another potential crisis to come".
"I don't believe this would be that simple," Odin still expressed an ounce of concern. "Even if we know for absolute who or what we'll be going up against, such a threat could very well be unpredictable".
"So what are we to do under your suggestion, dear father?" Angela questioned.
"Meet up with some of the other gods as well," Odin ordered before listing off. "Heimdall, Valkyrie, Sera, Beta Ray Bill, Tarene, and anyone else who may prove to be available. Only by then may you be able to travel together back to Midgard".
"We shall, father," Thor bowed. "We shall gather with them verily soon, I assure".
With that, the three norse gods let themselves be dismissed and left the same way they came in as Odin himself looked on with weary yet hopeful eyes, always knowing when and how to put faith on his own children, his offspring, his heirs, as well as those they themselves put their faiths upon.
To be continued...