In the midst of the void of the unconscious, muffled sound began to reach Jörmungandr's senses, and over time they became distinctive voices he was half-aware of.
"...by the Vanir—you'd think a walking skeleton would weigh less than he does, but nope! To Hel with him gaining weight; I'm going to demand a diet for him going forward. But that's not even the end of it! Why do I have to carry him and the girl anyway?"
"Um... well, you are the strongest one here Lord Fenrir. I'm too weak to carry either of them for an extended period of time, and Lord Anubis is holding his Priestess too, so..."
"Oh, and so I'm automatically relegated to... what do you call them again Aspen? Those guys who carry other people's stuff in those really fancy, community dens?"
A beat of hesitation permeated the somewhat charge atmosphere before she asked hesitantly, "... A bellhop? Who carries stuff in hotels?"
"Yeah," Fenrir exclaimed, "a bellhop! We're basically carrying dead weight and emotional baggage—or rather I am, since I was decided to be the resident muscle guy, but I still feel like if we hit said emotional baggage hard enough, he would have woken up by now!"
Jörmungandr's brow twitched with annoyance as he realized his brother was now referring to him as 'emotional baggage', a 'skeleton' and to Asta as 'dead weight'. Truthfully, he could not yet determine which was more offensive to him as the conversation progressed, with Aspen reasoning that it would be a very rude thing to hurt a sleeping person.
"I can guarantee that this skeleton would do the same to me asleep," Fenrir declared with the straightest, most deadpan expression yet, one that rivaled even Jörmungandr's.
It broke when said Jörmungandr—who was slung rather pitifully over his right shoulder—wacked him over the head with his elbow, resulting in the serpent being dropped like a rag doll onto the ground while Fenrir held his head.
"I'd also do it when you're awake."
"FU-mmm... fwooo..." Fenrir quietly calmed himself to a moderate degree of anger, doing his best to be an understanding, thoughtful, careful younger brother who really, really does love his older brother and as such would never, ever do anything or say anything rude or—
"Burn in Helheim," he snarled with as much moderate anger he could produce without injuring the still passed out Asta. "I hope the squirrel will cuss you out so bad your spirit degrades and your soul rots before being eaten by that stupid dragon along with Yggdrasil, you overgrown, gluttonous, extra long limbless lizard."
"I'd be burning in Muspelheim, in all technicality, dear brother," came Jörmungandr's dry remark, and if Fenrir was not so entirely annoyed with him, he would have complimented him sincerely on being able to finish a full sentence without pausing copiously.
"Wow, look who learned how to talk! You're all grown up now, aren't you?" mocked Fenrir.
Said 'grown up' scoffed at his younger brother, yellow eyes baleful as he retorted while reaching for Asta, "More grown up than you it appears, younger brother."
Eyebrow twitching at the sheer disrespect—'This is what I get for taking care of this emotionally stagnated son of a Jotun all this time?'—Fenrir resolutely moved Asta out of holding range before pulling out a trump card he knew would get to his brother.
"You're not allowed to touch her; Hela says that her soul needs to fully assimilate into her body, and if you touch her, the whole resurrection can become redundant."
Pale blue eyes stared at his brother, anticipating not any large expression or particularly explosive reaction, but a momentary flutter of emotion that becomes quickly overturn into calm, or even some silent sulking from his brother. To properly glare would have been an achievement in Fenrir's eyes.
He more than 'properly glared'.
It started with a twitch, as if something he did not wish to remember came back to mind. Next was his outstretched hand, which closed into a fist the bit into the palm of his hand with enough intensity to draw blood, his other hand burying itself into the ground. His usually calm and unperturbed face contorted into a violent, infuriated expression, eyes blazing with sickly yellow and reddish light, fangs of a snake emerging from his mouth as scales appeared around his eyes.
Perhaps what was most chilling was his voice, a rumbling hiss that seemed to rattle the air and vibrate in Fenrir's ears, inciting shivers and an instinctive guard against the spoken fury of the serpent from everyone near Jörmungandr.
❝𝕲𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖊—𝖓𝖔𝖜.❞
Gasps came from Aspen at the sudden influx of emotions; typically, she did not mind being around Jörmungandr as his emotions were relatively subdued and unintrusive, but when he did feel, it overwhelmed the human senses; the air shook, the ground rumbled, and all the fury of the ocean seemed to swallow her whole as she drowned beneath the pressure of the waters as it stole her breath, crushed her bones—
'And then she could see it clearly; a man with swaying red hair, a scarred yet handsome face, and bright green eyes that showed nothing while she drowned. He turned around, despair and loneliness overcame her because no one would understand what he was feeling or what he wanted in life and all that surrounded him was the water and he was drowning, drowning, drowning, 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒊𝒓, 𝒈𝒂𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏 𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓, 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒎—
'But the one who hated him worst of all was himself.'
Aspen sunk deeper into the motivations of Jörmungandr while something—someone—held her aloft, eyes rolling to the back of her head and blood running from her nose as she saw more and more of what made up this enraged monster before her.
'A bright blue sky; a terrible burden decided arbitrarily; a fate he did not want.
'Now there was a woman; she was bright, and warm, and he felt like he knew her for centuries, like she was the one who somehow could understand. A hope began in him as he met more who seemed like they could care for him, as he reunited with his siblings, as he gained responsibilities, it was almost as if he was worth something good now—
"'Why don't I help you with that fear?'"
"'Do we have a deal, little specter?'"
'The woman's face was black now, her smile dissipated and empty, leaving a false promise and a crushed hope.
"'Hey, did you know? I dream of being a hero—a hero that can help others find their own place in life.'"
'LiarLiarLiarLiarLiarLiarLiarLIARLIARLIARLIARLIARLIARLIARLIAR—'
"Aspen! Breathe, j-just breathe, okay? We have him locked down, just breathe—these aren't your memories or emotions, so just breathe!"
A great inhale was heard before Aspen began coughing violently, chocking on the air and turning on her side as she attempted to regain the air she had stopped breathing instinctively when overwhelmed with the drowning sensation.
Shudders passed through her frame as she stared at Jörmungandr with tearful eyes, observed the writhing man that Anubis held down as he reached and clawed for Asta, eye wide and furious. And hurt; deeply, innocently hurt, like a child who had been hit by a parent without even knowing the reasoning behind the punishment.
Shakily rising to her knees with Fenrir's protests of curses and gentle touch, she rasped, "World Serpent, when you reach her, what will you do?"
His frantic gaze turned to her before freezing with her next words.
"If you reach her, are you gonna hurt her?"
All at once his body went rigid, a shocked, dazed expression on his face from her question, as if he was only just now asking himself that.
Except, he had seen what Asta had lived through; he had been forced to spectate her pain and misery—lived with it beside her even.
'If I touch her now, will I be like that man? Would I hurt her, like he had before?'
He did not know.
And that terrified him.
"...What in Ra's name is going on here?!" a new voice they had never heard before piped up, and Anubis wiped around, releasing Jörmungandr as an enormous smile broke out across his face, the first one of this kind they had seen.
"Ain! You're awake!" he laughed before barreling into her with a hug which she rebuffed, pushing against his face to keep his flailing arms back before turning her black and gold gaze back at them, annoyance and strength in her bronzed body's posture.
"Yeah, no thanks to you leaving," she snarled and released him, dodging his falling body as he hit the ground flat faced. Returning her attention to those present, she saw a weird half-human, half-snake man, a man who reminded her of a very aggressive dog of some sort, and two collapsed woman.
"Now, someone explain to me what is going on!" she demanded, and everyone became silent as they stared at the dynamic between Anubis and his Priestess.
"...Aren't you supposed to be a child?" asked Fenrir tactically, carefully.
His brother was less delicate in his wording.
"Why do you look like an old woman?"