The atmosphere of war hung over all of Asgard...
This miraculous city, seemingly built on top of the world, had shed its former air of peace and tranquility and become a city at war...
The fighting Ronan had sparked on the Nidavellir front had driven all of Asgard into a frenzy!
A squad of young soldiers, fully armed, patrolled the city. Wherever they went, a few burly men would always stop them and ask about the situation on the front lines...
Whenever the young soldiers shook their heads to show they didn't know either, they were met with a wave of jeers...
The burly men, clearly veterans, would slap them on the shoulders, sneer at their ignorance, and boast about their own glorious exploits...
Faced with this, the young soldiers could only push the men blocking their way aside and hope they'd get to the front lines soon, so they wouldn't have to endure this kind of torment!
Asgard was a true city of soldiers. The men in every family, every household, had once served in Asgard's army.
Some of them had even kindled Divine Fire and lived extraordinarily long lives. They had fought across the Nine Realms alongside Odin.
The young patrolmen hardly dared to get cheeky with those men. They might once have been the commanders of their commanders' commanders...
The patrol squad leader helplessly pushed aside several men surrounding his team. Ahead, around the corner, came a Super Brute with one eye blinded and one arm missing...
The squad leader reluctantly adjusted his helmet and hurried over to the man, bowing respectfully in greeting...
Following his lead, the men nearby also bowed and placed their hands over their chests in salute...
The squad leader cautiously studied the man's expression and asked, "Uncle Isaac, where are you headed?"