Chapter 24 - Thoughts

The large double doors opened to reveal a spacious room filled with soft, golden light. The walls were lined with tall windows draped in rich fabrics, allowing the light from outside to cast a warm glow over everything.

Several healers clad in simple yet elegant robes moved quietly around the room, tending to their duties. As Erik, Liam, and Mia stepped inside the healers paused, turning to face them with deep bows of respect, their eyes filled with a reverence that took the trio by surprise.

Erik, Liam, and Mia exchanged brief glances, noting the way the healers regarded them. It was clear that even here they were seen as something more than ordinary teenagers. The weight of their new reality pressed down on them once again.

In the center of the room, resting on plush beds, were the people they had been so desperate to see. Erik's mother, looking pale, sat up slightly as her eyes locked onto her son. Mia's father, his expression a mix of relief and uncertainty, glanced up. Liam's grandfather gave a faint smile as he saw his grandson approach.

"Mom…" Erik's voice cracked with emotion as he rushed to her side, dropping to his knees beside the bed. She reached out, her hand trembling slightly as she cupped his cheek.

"Erik,," she whispered. "Are you alright? What's happening out there?"

"I'm fine," Erik reassured her, though the weight of everything he had just learned made his words feel hollow. His mom doesn't need to know aboutthat. "I'm glad you're okay. Do you still feel any pain?"

His mother give him a small smile. "No. I'm… I'm fine."

Erik knew that she is not fine. After all, they just lost their father and husband not long ago.

Liam made his way over to his grandfather, who gave him a small nod. "You look like something troubling you, boy," his grandfather said gruffly.

Liam chuckled dryly, though his heart was heavy. "You don't know the half of it, Grandpa. How are you feeling?"

"Better, thanks to these… Uhh, healers, they said," his grandfather replied, casting a glance at the nearest healer, who bowed again. "They know their stuff."

Mia approached her father, their gazes meeting with an awkward silence. The tension between them was palpable, a rift that had existed long before any of this began. But he still her family and when everything went to shit, Mia found that she can not lost him.

Her father's eyes searched hers, as if looking for something—perhaps an understanding that had always eluded them.

"I'm glad you're okay," Mia said quietly, her voice lacking the warmth she wished she could muster.

Her father nodded, his expression unreadable. "I am," he replied, his tone just as reserved. "And you?"

Mia only nodded in response, unsure of what else to say. The distance between them was still there, and she wasn't ready to bridge it just yet.

The trio stood with their loved ones, forgetting all of their problem and responsibility. The healers continued their work, but their deference to Erik, Liam, and Mia was unmistakable. It was clear that they were seen as more than just patients' relatives—they were respected, even revered, for reasons that went beyond their comprehension.

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Thor sat at the very top of a massive tower, far above the golden city of Asgard that stretched out below. Despite the breathtaking view, Thor's expression was far from happy. His brow was furrowed, and his usually strong, confident face now bore a troubled look.

In his hand he held a huge goblet. Inside, a deep brown liquid sloshed gently as he raised it to his lips, taking a slow, deliberate sip. The drink is strong, it offered little comfort as he sighed heavily, his broad shoulders slumping under the weight of his thoughts.

The air around him was still, thick with the scent of ancient pine and the distant hum of Asgard's magic. But this peace was a stark contrast to the turmoil that raged within him.

From behind, the soft sound of footsteps echoed lightly on the polished stone floor, breaking the silence. A figure approached, carrying an air of gentle warmth. It was Sif, Thor's wife, and one of Asgard's most revered warriors.

Sif moved with the elegance of a goddess that she is. Her long golden hair flowed like a river of sunlight down her back, catching the fading rays and casting a halo around her. She was clad in a form-fitting gown of deep emerald green, the fabric shimmering with the same golden light that bathed the city below. The gown hugged her athletic frame, accentuating her strength and beauty. Her piercing blue eyes locked onto Thor as she approached.

Without a word, Sif settled beside him. She gazed out at the city, the same troubled look in her eyes.

"Everything seems... not going well," she finally said.

Thor didn't look at her immediately. Instead, he stared into his goblet, the liquid swirling within it like the storm of emotions brewing in his heart. He took another long sip before speaking, his voice low and filled with a frustration that rarely surfaced in the God of Thunder.

"Of course it's not going well," Thor muttered, finally turning his gaze to Sif. His eyes, usually so bright with conviction, now held a dark cloud of doubt. "We've just forced human kids—mere children—to fight a deadly war for us."

He shook his head, the guilt evident in his every word. "We're asking them to bear a burden that should never have been theirs. They should be living their lives, not being thrust into a battle that could end everything. We should protect them. And yet... here we are."

Sif reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm, her touch grounding him in a way only she could. She looked at him with deep understanding, knowing the pain and responsibility he carried.

"We don't have any choicec. Beside, they are stronger than you think," she said softly. "But that doesn't make it any easier, does it?"

Thor sighed again, a deep, weary sound that echoed the vastness of the skies above. "No, it doesn't. It's not just the battle ahead that troubles me. It's the knowledge that we've given them no choice. We've put them on a path they never asked for. And all because we—gods, with all our power—cannot fight this war alone."

He looked back at the city below, its golden spires gleaming in the fading light. "I fear what this will cost them, and what it will cost us all."

Suddenly, a vortex of dark blue opened above the sky. Snow coming out of it, after that dozen of giant black wolves descended.

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