Long, long ago, there was a child far more intelligent than all his peers. He was always silent, a lone figure, because in his eyes, those peers were all so foolish as to be beyond his imagination. He simply could not muster any sense of affinity for them.
In his eyes, the entire world seemed like a thoroughly seen-through, old and worn-out toy, nothing but endless war after war, failing to arouse any interest in him.
"Boring… dull… monotonous…"
A deep sense of disgust and self-loathing filled his heart. He loathed this world, and loathed himself even more. He loathed this hollow self, this self that had no interest in anything, making him feel a deep disgust, even hatred.
He had thought that perhaps he could only be like this, but until one day…
"Hey! What's your name?"
As he lay upon the earth, above his head was an ancient, towering tree. The boy who wanted to care about nothing lay on the ground sleeping quietly, when suddenly something hit him on the head. He dazedly opened his eyes and looked towards the sound, only to see on the tree branch above his head, stood a little boy who looked about the same size as him. Those incomparably clear eyes were curiously looking at him.
On him, unlike those gods filled with a cold and indifferent holy aura, but also unlike the other frost giants' barbaric and crude aura, there was an… extremely unique, vibrant vitality, appearing completely different from this lifeless, chaotic world.
"…Loki."
Looking at this half-god, half-giant mixed-blood boy before him, after a long silence, he gave a simple response.
"Loki? You're very interesting!"
The little boy in front of him seemed to not have heard the deep rejection and indifference in his words. He thought for a bit, then said happily.
A flash of astonishment passed through those vertical pupils.
"I'm… interesting?"
"Yeah, you're completely different from the other frost giants! They only know how to fight, but you're very calm, so you're very interesting."
The boy jumped down from the tree branch, then stood in front of the intelligent child. This boy with incomparably clear eyes said loudly.
"Interesting… then what's your name?"
The intelligent child pondered, then asked in return.
"Me?"
The little boy in front of him first tilted his head, then grinned, revealing his white teeth, laughing very brightly.
"My name is Odin! Loki, perhaps our meeting here is the choice of fate!"
"Fate?"
Looking at the little boy in front of him who called himself Odin with interest, Loki's lazy lips curled up slightly.
"Loki! Come with me to create an interesting world!"
In front of him, Odin suddenly spread his arms, shouting excitedly.
"So… why should I go do this inexplicable thing with you?"
"That's why I'm saying, it's the world!!! A world far more interesting than this lifeless, dull world by countless times!!!"
Lying on the ground, Loki looked up at this figure in front of him, narrowing his eyes slightly, but in the hazy light, he could only see a silhouette that seemed to be completely enveloped in light, as dazzling as the radiant smile on his face.
"An interesting… world?"
The boy murmured, as if something had been stirred in his heart.
"Yes! A world that will never be boring, never be dull, endlessly wonderful!"
Looking at the boy lying on the ground beside him, brimming with fiery passion, Odin looked at the stranger he had just met, yet without hesitation extended his hand.
"Loki, let's go create the world together!!!"
…
Fire, endless flames were burning.
The majestic giant tree, having lost its support, was slowly tilting. Its form was simply too enormous, to the extent that this simple collapse would also take thousands, tens of thousands of years, but no matter how slow, this day would eventually come. No one had the power to stop it.
The few remaining stars fell one by one from the shattered vault of heaven towards the burning earth. The poison-filled oceans were covered with floating corpses stretching for thousands of miles. The vault of heaven riddled with holes of all sizes could no longer protect this universe. Endless outer chaos leaked in from the shattered holes, accelerating the death of this world.
The once infinitely prosperous world had long since turned to ruins. The gods were dead, the giants were dead, the monsters were dead, all life was dead.
Everywhere was filled with blood, corpses, and flames. Those beautiful, ugly, kind, evil, horrifying, amiable… all of all, died in that final great decisive battle.
Yet on these ruins and burning earth, there still seemed to be a blurry figure wearily and laboriously moving forward.
Beside this figure, the flame-covered earth was strewn with various different corpses, some incomplete, some with ferocious faces, but no matter how they were in life, gods or giants, at this moment they all lay upon this battlefield corroded by flames.
The weary, thin figure passed through this battlefield strewn with corpses step by step, eyes filled with deep bewilderment, even stumbling and falling over corpses and bones, but in the depths of those pupils there seemed to be an intangible will always supporting him to stand firm.
The frail body was already covered in wounds from the battle, but he still gritted his teeth and walked on step by step. Even if he fell, he would just stand up again.
There was one thing he had to figure out.
For this thing, even if he had to pay the greatest price, even if he had to personally destroy this world that he and Odin had molded bit by bit, he would stop at nothing.
What Odin pursued was to let this world he personally created continue on forever, but what he pursued was a truly free and wonderful world… not ignorantly staying in this cage called "world" woven by fate.
When this beautiful world he had created with his own hands became his cage, he would rather personally smash this beautiful but false world to pieces.
However…
"Thud…"
Beside his feet, a light sound came. The weary figure instinctively glanced at his feet, and then, those bewildered and hollow pupils froze…
By his feet was a corpse, the corpse covered in wounds all over, the blood flowing out dyed the ground beneath red. Looking at this corpse, the owner of the bewildered pupils' dry, cracked lips trembled silently.
He opened and closed his mouth, wanting to call out the name of that corpse, but like a catfish stranded on the shore, his lips moved, but no matter what he could not call out that simple name.
"Ah…"
He tried to reach out his hand, but his arm inexplicably would not listen, as if in fear. Only that meaningless sound came from his hoarse throat.
"Hel."
By his feet was the corpse of his little daughter Hel. As the ruler of the realm of death, Hel also perished in this ultimate decisive battle, thoroughly returning to the earth.
Among the three siblings, only Hel respected her father the most, because she was the only one who could feel the loneliness and solitude in her father's heart. She could feel the profound wisdom hidden within her father, that wisdom far beyond the imagination of all life.
For this, as the ruler of the realm of death, she did not have to participate in this ultimate decisive battle between the living. Helheim was already the pale earth where the World Tree took root, existing since the ancient chaotic world. Even if the World Tree completely tilted and the universe was destroyed, it could not affect the existence of Helheim.
The king of gods who ruled over all the living, and the king of the underworld who ruled over all the dead were originally equal.
However, for the sake of that desire in her father's heart, this originally immortal ruler of the underworld led the army of the dead to join this ultimate decisive battle, and now… she was dead.
Looking at his little daughter's corpse, Loki's lips trembled.
Finally, as if his strength gave out, he knelt helplessly before this world of death. He dazedly swept his gaze over this gradually collapsing world before him, this world of flames marching towards death, his bewildered pupils trembling. Covering his face, he finally despairingly let out an anguished wail.
"…"
Before the burning world ahead, in the flickering firelight, the thin figure prostrated on the ground, body trembling, helpless and wailing like a child.
…
By the Well of Wisdom, the wise giant Mimir with white hair and beard was quietly writing something on ancient parchment with the quill in his hand. Even if the world was about to be destroyed, his face showed no change, only calmness.
This wise giant's actions, no one could understand. Only he himself knew what he was doing.
And just as he was writing, a calm voice rang out.
"Mimir."
The tip of the quill stopped. Raising his head, a thin figure stood before Mimir. Looking at the figure before him, this wise giant showed no surprise as he slightly lowered his head, demonstrating his respect for the new king of gods, slowly saying.
"Your Majesty… you have betrayed Odin's trust."
Before him, the king of gods with a calm face looked at the aged giant opposite him, murmuring.
"Mimir, tell me, what is fate?"