Ragna arrived in Asgard.
A solemn atmosphere weighed over the golden city, an unnatural stillness permeating its once-vibrant halls.
Odin, the All-Father, was missing—his long-prophesied eternal sleep now inevitable.
Yet, despite this knowledge, the question of succession remained unanswered.
The absence of a clear heir sent waves of unrest through Asgard's people, the Aesir, and its many warriors.
The uncertainty was almost palpable, spreading like a creeping storm.
Who would be the new king?
Even the most battle-hardened Einherjar whispered in hushed voices, their usual boisterous confidence shaken.
Ragna walked forward, his presence cutting through the tension like a blade.
At his side, Heimdall, the ever-loyal guardian of the Bifrost, walked silently. His piercing gaze, capable of seeing across time and space, was unreadable.
Though Heimdall had not betrayed Odin nor exiled himself as he once did in some timelines, he remained ever the vigilant protector of Asgard's future.
As they moved through the Grand Courtyard of Valaskjalf, dozens of Asgardians watched in awe.
The former prince had returned.
Ragna—the ruler of Heaven, the one who had once defeated Odin, and now the most powerful being in the known universe—had set foot in Asgard once more.
Among the crowd, whispers spread like wildfire:
"Odin is gone… The All-Father is leaving us… Who will rule?"
"Ragna should be our new king!"
"He is no longer just Asgard's prince—he has surpassed the gods!"
"If he takes the throne, who could challenge us?"
Heimdall, hearing these murmurs, finally broke the silence.
"Some among the Aesir believe that after Odin falls into the Odinsleep, you should return and claim the throne."
Ragna stopped in his tracks for the briefest moment.
He glanced sideways, taking in the gods and warriors gazing at him with reverence.
Then, he resumed walking, offering no reply.
But in the distance, excited voices continued:
"He looked at me! He looked at me!" a young Aesir goddess gushed.
"He's so majestic… He doesn't even need a crown to look like a king!"
"They say he's not married yet—whoever he chooses will be queen of the gods!"
"What if he does take the throne?"
The clamor grew as Ragna ascended the steps toward the Halls of Odin.
He shook his head slightly, a ghost of a smile forming.
They still believe I am part of this… part of them.
In truth, he had long abandoned his claim to Odin's throne.
Heimdall, walking beside him, spoke again.
"Yet Odin has not chosen a successor… and Thor is still not strong enough to command Asgard or the Nine Realms."
Ragna's voice was calm, yet absolute.
"Odin knows the truth. He understands that, in the end, his choice will mean nothing."
His golden eyes flickered as he continued.
"Whoever I support will sit upon the throne."
Heimdall remained silent at this statement. He knew it was true.
After all, Ragna was no longer just Odin's forsaken son. He had risen beyond Asgard, beyond the Nine Realms. Even Odin himself had fallen before him.
In the end, the throne would belong to whoever had Ragna's blessing.
Finally, Heimdall led him to the door of Odin's chambers.
For a moment, the Guardian of the Bifrost hesitated before murmuring,
"Perhaps… But I will not support her. She has killed too many."
Ragna turned slightly, eyeing Heimdall with a knowing glance.
"And yet, will you oppose her?"
Heimdall exhaled, gripping the hilt of Hofund, his divine sword.
"No. I will be loyal to the king."
Ragna studied him for a moment, then turned and entered the chamber.
Inside, a soft voice, heavy with sorrow, greeted him.
"My dear Ragna…"
The Queen of Asgard, Frigga, stood before him.
Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him in a firm, maternal embrace.
Then, as if her strength had finally broken, her voice trembled.
"Your father… he…"
Tears welled in her eyes.
Ragna gently placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice steady.
"Everything passes, Mother."
"But you still have us."
Loki, standing beside Frigga, shifted awkwardly, saying nothing.
For once, the God of Mischief had no clever words, no sarcastic remarks.
He merely bowed his head.
Finally, Frigga steadied herself and spoke.
"Odin has gone to Midgard. It will be his final resting place."
Her hands tightened around Ragna's.
"He wants to see you one last time."
A heavy silence settled between them.
And then, Frigga's voice took on urgency.
"But that is not all. Thor… has gone to Muspelheim."
Ragna's gaze sharpened.
"Muspelheim?"
Frigga nodded quickly.
"Your brother had a vision—a nightmare of Ragnarok. He sought to confront its source directly."
"He ventured into the domain of Surtur, the King of the Fire Demons… and now, he has been captured."
Ragna exhaled, rubbing his temple.
"Thor, you fool."
Muspelheim.
One of the most dangerous realms, home to the Eternal Flame, the very fire destined to reduce Asgard to ashes.
Thor, in his arrogance, had walked directly into its depths—believing himself ready to challenge Surtur alone.
Had the Fire Giant King truly wished it, Thor would already be dead.
But Surtur was patient. He had plans of his own.
Ragna nodded.
"I will bring him back."
Loki's eyes flickered with something unreadable.
As Ragna turned to leave, Loki followed, walking alongside him through the golden halls.
Then, in the quiet of an empty corridor, he asked softly,
"My dear brother… will you take the throne of the God-King?"
Ragna barely glanced at him before replying.
"No."
Loki's eyes lit up with sudden joy.
If Ragna did not claim the throne, then he still had a chance.
Loki, the rightful son of Jotunheim, yet raised as a prince of Asgard, still had hope.
If he could sway Ragna's support, then perhaps—
But before Loki could speak again, Ragna was already walking ahead.
As he neared the Bifrost, Heimdall awaited him.
Without a word, Heimdall's golden eyes scanned the Nine Realms, locking onto Thor's exact location.
Ragna smirked.
"I know what you're thinking, Loki."
He turned to face his brother fully.
"But the throne? I will never take it."
His next words cut through Loki like a blade.
"And neither will you."
Loki's confident smirk faltered.
Before he could respond, Ragna stepped onto the Bifrost.
A brilliant surge of rainbow light erupted—
And he was gone.
Behind him, Loki stood frozen, his expression unreadable.
And Heimdall, gripping Hofund, merely exhaled, his gaze heavy with understanding.
The fate of Asgard had yet to be decided.
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