Hello, friends. Sorry if you find this chapter a bit short, but I wanted to upload something for you. I've recovered a little, and I have a two-week leave, so I'll be uploading a few more chapters. However, I'll be focusing more on my original novel, in case you'd like to check it out — I'd really appreciate it. I'll be waiting for you there.
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Vidar raised a hand toward the sky, and the shadows swirled around him like threads of living smoke. He whispered words in the Asgardian tongue, and a dark portal opened before him, spinning like an unfathomable eye into another reality.
For a moment, he hesitated.
"Should I do it now?" he thought. "Should I release Hela and unleash that power… or wait for the right time?"
He knew well what his sister was capable of. The power of death itself ran through her veins, and though in the movie she'd been portrayed as a monster, now he understood that in this world of selfish gods and broken realms, the true monsters wore golden crowns.
"Later," he told himself. "First, I need a refuge… a place of my own."
Vidar had been imagining it for a long time — a hidden kingdom, not ruled by fear or tyrannical decrees, but by balance itself. A place where every being in the universe, no matter their origin, could find safety. Where chaos was left behind upon crossing its gates, and the universal balance protected its own.
"Not only the living," he thought. "But also the forgotten, the ones who suffer… they all deserve refuge."
Without further delay, he stepped through the portal.
Vidar frowned.
"This… is not the Earth I knew."
Before being reborn in Asgard, he had lived in the modern world. He knew technology, the chaos of the streets, the roar of machines, the towering buildings. He had lost everything when he died… and though he had never truly felt part of that world, he could still recognize its shapes, its sounds, its pulse.
This wasn't it.
It was a much older era. Just as he expected… surely he would be here.
Whatever the reason, Vidar wasn't planning to stay long. His kingdom would not be in this place. This would not be his refuge, nor his empire.
But there was one thing he did want to do here.
For as long as he could remember — in his human life and his divine existence — he had dreamed of meeting one entity. The only being spoken of in fear and respect by men, gods, and monsters alike. A name that, according to legend, ruled over all things.
God.
Not the god of Asgard, nor of any other realm, but the True Creator — the one responsible for balance, creation, and the final judgment.
Vidar didn't believe in blind prayers or hollow words. But he had always wanted to know if such a being existed. If there truly was an entity that saw everything, knew every fate, and understood the burdens others refused to carry.
"If someone like that exists," he thought, "they wouldn't be like those weak gods sitting on thrones of fear. They would be someone who understands pain, guilt, the weight of decisions… someone who doesn't need to be worshiped, but is respected by their very nature."
And with that thought, Vidar walked.
He crossed forests and villages, searching for signs. He passed through towns, asking questions. The symbols of the cross engraved in stone guided his path, leading him toward the place he sought.
Hours, maybe days later — time had lost meaning — he arrived at a lonely plain. The sky was painted in soft blue as the sun set. And there, among dead trees, a figure awaited him.
No crown. No scepter. No shining armor. No wings. He was just a man. But as Vidar looked at him, something in his soul trembled.
A serene face. Eyes so deep, they seemed to see right through him.
Vidar knew instantly who it was.
And in that moment, he thought:
"I never imagined it would be like this… and even less… that I'd actually find you. I've always wanted to meet you."