“I see you like to play games, I can play them as well.” She in return poked ITs shoulder “I do not see why you are feared.” Hela laughed “you just want to play.”

Growls rumbled forth from the shadows that surrounded her lair: a clear warning to anyone that he should not be disturbed. A bloody piece of meat lay within his grasp, black claws clenched around the slab to keep it from sliding away. Before he could take a big bite, bones and all, the doors to the chamber opened, bathing the area in light. 

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     Some nights, Thor still remembered. His dreams showed him great battles fought aeons ago, stories told long before the first cities of this cycle were raised from the dust. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed, and he remembered a long stream of names, stretching into prehistory: Thor. Thunraz. Donar. Thurisaz. There were so many that some were lost, even to him, but they all, ultimately, meant the same thing: Thunderer. Stormbringer. Lord of Lightning. God of Storms. 

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