The raging blizzard of the Arctic Circle blurred the towering figures of the two Asgardian brothers. Dressed like ancient Vikings from a history museum, they looked like a pair of travelers lost on the ice.
Loki had expected to dislike the freezing weather. He had never even had the chance to visit Jotunheim, the Frost Giants' world among the Nine Realms.
Yet amid Midgard's frigid, snowy wilderness, he felt a strange, refreshing comfort, like a summer night after a downpour.
His elder brother Thor cared even less about a little wind and frost. He had been stronger than any other Aesir from birth. He had fought among the lava mountains of Muspelheim and put down a rebellion in Alfheim. He was a born warrior.
"Thor, do you remember the secrets of the gods Mother once told us? The difference between a 'true god' and an ordinary Aesir or Vanir?"
The younger son of Odin had a thin, frail-looking face. Walking beside Thor, he glanced around uneasily and brought it up as if in casual conversation.
"Of course. Isn't that common knowledge in Asgard?"
Thor turned to look at his brother, puzzled. He didn't understand why Loki had brought it up.
"Indeed. In the eyes of mortals and ordinary life on other planets, every Asgardian could be called a 'god.' We are born with powerful bodies and long lives. But few can claim the title of 'true god.'"
Loki spoke slowly, scooping up a handful of snow and studying it in his palm. Thor kept striding ahead, his voice rough as he continued:
"Obviously. The only standard for becoming a true god is possessing 'divine power.' Like Father's Odinforce, or Heimdall's all-seeing eye that can peer across the universe, and—"
"And the power to command thunder, which you possess. But I've