“My King, forgive me for asking, but why must we be so distant to perform the Bifrost?” an Asgardian legionnaire asked, he and his two other comrades pushing up to the top of the hill. He paused the moment he and the others reached the top, their king remaining still ahead of them.
He planted the butt of his spear deep in the grass beneath him, his armor pushing him down after the long trek across the valley and up the hills. His fellow soldiers appeared to his left and right, their eyes focused ahead. The Asgardian asked, “Have the citizens become wary to its presence?”
Odin remained unmoved. He did so until the powerful silence infected the four of them, and then he still kept his words on a chain. He waited until the heavy summer storm clouds rolled in above the Everfree Forest, blocking out the sun, spreading a blanket of darkness across the hill they stood upon and the valleys they had once set foot.
A harsh breeze pushed the king’s cape backwards, yet he stood still, staring ahead into the forest. The three Asgardian soldiers knew better than to give their king the proper respect. If he desired silence, he would receive it. If he did not wish to answer foolish questions, then he did not have to. It seems all the king wanted was to stand and stare, so his soldiers did the same.
“No…it is not that.”
They then faced their king, curiosity in their eyes as to what his explanation would be. He did not, would not face them completely. His palm tightened ever so slightly on the grip of his spear, but they didn’t see it. None of them did. They remained together, staring at the back of their king’s head, and waited.
Waited for an eternity.
Waited for him to finally say, “Because you all have seen something only I must know about.”
One Asgardian was soon to speak out, question his king about his accusations. He never did have time to open his mouth, or react accordingly. Neither did his two other comrades.
For when Odin spun around to face them, he held his spear with malice, with ill intentions. Then he unleashed his weapon’s power and fury onto the three unsuspecting guards and vaporized them within a stream of golden light. Vaporized them before they could even let out a scream.
Completely vanquished. Silenced. Not even their ashes remained.
A roar of thunder clashed in the clouds above, unnatural lightning brewing. All that remained was just the Asgardian King, alone, silent, standing on the edge of the valley and staring off into the town of Ponyville. Just staring, his jaw slightly ajar, the grip on his spear finally loosening.
He rested the end of his weapon in the swaying grass, his focus forward, eyeing Princess Twilight’s castle. And he remained.
Just like that.
With a golden wave flushing across his skin.
Revealing the sinister grin beneath the golden veil.
And with that veil gone, Loki smiled.
“I like this world,” he stated, hissing as a serpent would when nearing its wounded prey, the look of a feral and calculating predator burning in his eyes. And it was there for only a second. Just a second before the golden veil returned, the King of Asgard replacing the predator.
The Bifrost impacted the edge of the hill he stood on, and with one final knowing grin to Equestria and beyond, Odin stepped into the light.
The Guardian of Worlds tore his sword from the ground as his king finally returned. Through the swirling lights he had found as daily routine, Heimdall placed the tip of Hofund near his feet and waited for his king to step forth.
And so he did. With Gungnir by his side, Odin strode through the Bifrost Bridge and acknowledged Heimdall’s presence with a simple nod. Heimdall did not repeat his king’s actions, instead choosing to stare curiously to Odin’s direction.
He asked, “Where are the other soldiers?”
Without stopping, Odin faced the bridge ahead and replied, “There were many casualties.”
He left it at that, Heimdall watching him step forth onto the bridge and enter the golden city of Asgard, his kingdom. And he walked alone.
Alone.
It was still there. The day Asgard nearly perished, the days that followed and Heimdall still saw it. Or, rather, couldn’t see it. It was a darkness of some sort, clouding his vision, blinding his thought and keeping him strained. It resonated constantly, hanging across the Nine Realms like an alien virus. It remained there.
It remained near Odin. His king.
“My Lord…why can’t I see you?”
He turned back towards the stars. Stared forever.
“Why can’t I see that world clearly?”