Skurge!
The name clicked—both from this world's residual memories and from his previous life.
If he remembered correctly, Skurge was the Asgardian guard who submitted to Hela in Thor: Ragnarok. Named characters in that film were few.
But Thor and Loki hadn't been born yet. Odin currently had only one child—Hela. Was Skurge of the same generation? From the movie it hadn't seemed that way.
Or was this world similar to the MCU but not identical?
Haldryn frowned inwardly. If this wasn't a strict one-to-one match with the movies, how useful would his future knowledge remain? He knew some comics, but only the surface.
"Remember now?" Skurge asked, irritated.
"Ahem. Yeah."
Skurge's smile turned sly. He punched Haldryn's shoulder. "I bet you haven't forgotten Amora's kiss."
Haldryn stared blankly. "What?"
Skurge's eyes went wide. "You forgot that too?"
"…Yeah."
"Fine. I'll forgive you for forgetting my name."
Haldryn pressed. "What exactly is Amora's kiss?"
In his old memories Amora was an Asgardian villain. Had the original body gotten involved with her?
"The reason you fell out of that tree!" Skurge's voice rose, gestures growing dramatic. "You made a wager with Amora in the name of the All-Father. Climb the tree and touch the thinnest branch at the top, and she'd give you a kiss!"
"You did it! Everyone was waiting under the tree to witness it!"
Haldryn broke out in a cold sweat. So that was why he'd fallen—risking his life for a kiss. Peak loser behavior.
He suddenly understood Uncle Peter a little better. If he had a nephew like that, he'd look down on him too.
He wanted nothing to do with it. Preferably the whole incident had never happened.
Skurge, however, was buzzing with anticipation and pushed him forward like a stubborn ox. "You swore in the name of the all-knowing, all-powerful All-Father Cul. You have to go."
Haldryn was far too slight to resist. He was herded along.
A few steps later a jolt hit him. "Cul?"
Skurge froze. "You forgot the All-Father too?"
Haldryn searched his memories. He hadn't forgotten—Odin had simply dominated his previous-life impressions so thoroughly that he'd overlooked Cul until now.
He knew little of the comics, but he remembered Cul from Fear Itself.
Cul Borson—Odin's older brother, first heir of the previous king Bor, once the God of Fear, now All-Father of Asgard.
According to Fear Itself, Cul was the rightful ruler by law. Odin had eventually defeated him, seized the throne, and buried the truth.
In this world, Cul sat on the throne.
Which almost certainly meant Asgard still had a civil war coming… internal and external troubles both, Haldryn thought.
Under Skurge's guidance they soon reached a small grove. One tree stood out—dozens of meters tall, thick with leaves.
A dozen or so youths clustered beneath it, talking in small groups.
A few stayed silent. At the center was a golden-haired girl, beautiful and still young, yet dressed with a mature allure that didn't match her age.
Several young men also kept quiet. One particularly tall, powerfully built bald youth looked especially grim.
"That's the tree you fell from," Skurge said, pointing.
The others noticed them and erupted.
"Look who's here!"
"Heh, Haldryn's come to claim his prize~"
Whistles and laughter rose.
Haldryn wanted to sink into the ground. The crowd shoved him forward until he stood in front of the golden-haired girl like some awkward marriage introduction.
"Hi, Amora." He managed a greeting and then ran out of words.
She was undeniably pretty—already alluring at such a young age. No wonder several of the guys were glaring at him.
Even Skurge, Haldryn sensed, felt a twinge of jealousy beneath the excitement.
He had zero desire to get involved. He didn't remember Amora's full history, but he knew she was a villain. Better to stay far away.
"You actually touched that thin branch and came away unharmed," Amora said, complex emotion in her eyes. She exhaled. "I'll admit I'm surprised. I never thought you could do it… But I swore to the All-Father. I'll keep my word."
In Asgard, royal power was divine power and paternal power—supreme and absolute. Contracts sworn in the All-Father's name were almost never broken.
Amora swept her long golden hair aside and stepped closer, radiant. She bit her lower lip, looking every bit the ripe peach.
Skurge's eyes went wide.
Others either gasped or held their breath.
"Wait."
No one expected Haldryn to raise a hand just as she reached him.
"What's wrong, Haldryn? Need to rinse your mouth first?" someone immediately joked.
Haldryn steadied himself. "I'm sorry, Amora. I wasn't thinking clearly before… You don't have to kiss me. Let's just call the whole thing off."
"What?"
Disbelief rippled through the group.
By every normal standard, no red-blooded youth would refuse a beautiful golden-haired girl's no-strings-attached kiss—especially after spending several days unconscious for it.
"Are you kidding?" Skurge muttered.
Someone else called, "Hey Haldryn, if you've got bad breath I'll take your place!"
Laughter exploded.
Haldryn drew a slow breath, expression growing serious. "I'm completely serious. I've decided to remember this lesson—for my past recklessness and stupidity."
Amora looked at him, baffled.
Skurge grew urgent. "You were out cold for days. That's already enough of a lesson!"
Haldryn said nothing.
Amora was silent for a moment, then asked, "You're certain?"
"Certain."
The atmosphere shifted. The noisy crowd quieted. The previously hostile young men relaxed.
Then Amora suddenly smiled, alluring. "Very well. If you say no kiss, then no kiss. But the agreement remains permanent. Whenever you want that kiss, I'm ready~"
The moment the words left her mouth the young men's eyes snapped open again, sharp as blades.
When they looked at Haldryn, lightning and fire practically sparked in their gazes—not a metaphor. In Asgard some people really could shoot lightning or flame from their eyes.
The tall bald one in particular made a not-so-subtle fist-clenching gesture, hostility plain.
A pack of simp dogs, Haldryn swore internally.
And after all that, he still hadn't managed to cut clean ties with Amora. Troublesome.
The crowd gradually dispersed.
Watching Amora's figure from a distance, Skurge's expression was complicated—relieved, yet faintly disappointed, as though some private expectation had fallen flat.
"Skurge?"
He blinked. "Hm?"
"I'm heading back." Haldryn clapped his shoulder once and walked away.
It was already late afternoon. The sun slanted through the trees.
He found himself wondering what exactly the sun of Asgard was.
The realm had day and night, yet no planetary rotation. It used years and months, yet lacked the corresponding natural cycles. Eternal mild weather, calm waters.
Asgard was a floating landmass in the void—not a planet—yet it possessed stable surface gravity roughly comparable to Earth's.
So many things here felt strange, as though designed by a god who didn't understand physics. Of course Haldryn knew this was not his original universe, the one ruled solely by physical law beyond any will.
The Marvel cosmos contained science in the narrow sense, magic, and even gods. And now it also contained the mysterious force that had arrived with him: the Holy Light.
Here, the authority of physical law over all things was weaker than the All-Father's authority over Asgard.
Lost in thought, Haldryn suddenly frowned and looked back.
A black-haired woman was walking toward him at a measured pace.
She looked to be in her early adulthood, black hair falling to her shoulders, clad in light armor. Beautiful, and carrying an air of confident arrogance.
"Haldryn, son of Gary."
His full name was Haldryn Garrison—"Garrison" meaning "son of Gary," the same form as Thor Odinson.
In Asgard and many places across the Nine Realms, the "-son" form served as a surname of sorts, though it was used sparingly. The full "son of" construction appeared even less often.
In the original memories, that formal style usually showed up only in challenges or duels.
"Who are you?" Haldryn asked.
She didn't answer directly. "Do you know why Amora made that wager with you?"
"Why?"
"Amora is studying magic in Nornheim. From the Cave of Time she learned a prophecy concerning herself… and concerning you."
A prophecy?
Something like Ragnarok?
Haldryn's mind raced. "What prophecy?"
The woman smiled. "As long as you accepted that wager with her… you were certain to fall to your death."
Haldryn stiffened, then the realization hit like a hammer.
If that was true, the golden-haired girl had been trying to watch him die.
Classic villain.
Major villain.
He forced himself calm. "But I'm fine."
"That is precisely what interests me." Her voice was low and resonant; when she smiled it was like deep, luminous seawater.
Haldryn felt an aggressive, magnetic beauty from her—far more striking than the golden-haired girl.
"Looks like the prophecy was wrong," he said, a little tense.
"Perhaps." She seemed only mildly curious. After another glance she turned and walked away, vanishing into the trees.
Haldryn stood silent for a moment, then left as well.
…
Asgard Royal Palace.
In this era the iconic Golden Palace had not yet been built, yet the royal residence was still magnificent and imposing.
A powerfully built middle-aged man strode through one of the halls.
He wore heavy armor and carried a golden spear, his presence calm, steady, and naturally commanding.
A passing maidservant hurriedly bowed. "Lord Odin."
The man was Odin. He gave a slight nod. "Where is Hela?"
"Princess Hela just went out."
Odin was about to speak further when he sensed something and turned.
A black-haired woman entered from outside—the same woman Haldryn had just met.
"Hela," Odin said, "where have you been?"
^^^
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