The fire in the hearth burned fiercely, heat filling the small chamber. Yet its resplendent golden decor could not conceal the fact that this place resembled a tomb.
Because in Asgard, only the dead slept aboard ships before being set ablaze and sent into the void.
Su Ming looked once more at the relief carved upon the doors of Odin's Slumber, depicting Odin sailing out to battle alongside his father and brothers, then reached out and pushed the doors open.
Pale-faced Odin lay beneath a wolfskin blanket in a golden longship, still clutching Gungnir in his hand.
He looked cold, even though this place was practically a sauna.
According to legend, Odin would die during Fimbulwinter and be devoured by Fenrir. That was why this special bedroom had four enormous hearths: to keep Odin warm when Fimbulwinter arrived.
At the very least, they would give him time to put on his armor before facing his destined fate.
But this time, it was not a wolf that had come. It was Deathstroke, and he had no interest in the sleeping old man's body.
"Fire~! Fire~!" He leaned close to the bedside and spoke softly toward Odin, making his voice sound as though it came from far away. "Yggdrasil is on fire."
Odin opened his eyes. A trace of helplessness crossed his aged, bark-like face. He shoved Deathstroke aside, sat up, and raised a hand to press against his white-haired head.
"I knew you were here. There is no need to test me with something like that."
Su Ming nodded, rested a hand on the beautiful ship's rail, and casually tapped it. "The fact that you knew it was me even while asleep proves you're the real one. I was just making sure you hadn't been replaced by Skrulls or taken over