The Death Goddess and the God of Mischief

After dawdling for what felt like several thousand words, the Bifrost was finally completed and put into operation. With his son and allies at his side, Allfather Odin finally returned to his loyal Asgard.

But no one came to welcome him. No one had even noticed his return.

Asgard was burning.

A very familiar-looking army flooded into the city like a tide, slaughtering every Asgardian in sight.

Flying insect-like landing craft, single-pilot skiffs darting back and forth, humanoid soldiers with insectoid faces—these invaders were clearly the Chitauri who had once followed Loki in invading New York.

The only difference from the Battle of New York was that there was no spatial wormhole in the sky. Instead, a massive saucer-shaped spacecraft hovered overhead.

The three people emerging from their hiding place all wore grave expressions.

Thor was beside himself with rage and immediately reached for his hammer to charge into battle, only to grab empty air.

"What is Loki doing?" Odin was relatively calm, but the suppressed fury in his voice was unmistakable. The invaders before them ran rampant, Asgard's forces were in complete disarray and utterly incapable of mounting an effective resistance, while civilians fled in every direction like headless flies.

Of the three, Xiang Qian should have been the one most removed from all this, yet his expression was the ugliest of them all.

"You'd better pray these Chitauri weren't brought here by Loki," Xiang Qian said in a low voice. It was no wonder he thought so—hadn't the Battle of New York happened because Loki had gotten involved with Thanos?

Thor was the first to object. "Impossible. Loki would never deliberately harm Asgard."

When he had learned that Loki had faked his death, he had gritted his teeth in fury. But the moment someone questioned his younger brother,