Alvin's shameless accusation had clearly left Heimdall, guardian of the Bifrost, at a loss.
Heimdall had been ordered to keep an eye on Hell's Kitchen on Earth, and Alvin was his primary target.
Every now and then, watching the extremely annoying Prince Thor get taken down a peg was one of Heimdall's pleasures.
After all, his younger sister, the warrior goddess Sif, had thrown herself at Thor only to get the cold shoulder. If Heimdall weren't certain he couldn't beat Odin, he'd have liked to teach Thor a lesson himself...
And now someone was accusing him of spying on Odin's daughter! What was he supposed to do?
If those words reached Odin and his wife, his life would be over.
Because, strictly speaking, Heimdall was capable of doing what Alvin called "spying"...
But what kind of person would associate the "God of Dawn" with "spying"?
For the second time that day, Alvin appeared in a glittering, magnificent hall, his head spinning...
Seeing Fox and Crystal, who had arrived with him, Alvin covered his mouth and fought down the urge to vomit. "Asgard's elevator experience is as awful as ever..."
As he spoke, Alvin glanced at Heimdall, who stood atop a circular platform, clad in golden armor and a winged helmet, leaning on a gigantic sword with an unmistakable "keep your distance" air about him.
Alvin hated unfriendly types like this. You'd already brought me here, so what was with all the attitude?
Fox thoughtfully stepped behind Alvin and patted him on the back a few times, which made Mr. Battleaxe feel a little better.
Ignoring Crystal, who was looking around like a country girl, Alvin called out to Heimdall, who stood like a statue. "Hey, buddy!
Get me a cup of coffee, then tell me what Hela's figure is like..."