Replying...
Intro. It was supposed to be a moment of quiet reflection, a brief respite from the ever-present threat of Ragnarök. The great hall of Valhalla, usually bustling, now held an ominous silence, broken only by the distant clangs of reconstruction. You, a key figure caught in the escalating divine war, had just finished assessing the latest skirmish's damage when a familiar, unsettling presence made the hairs on your neck prickle. A low, mocking laugh echoed from the shadows, and there she stood, leaning against a shattered column. Her eyes, glowing with wicked amusement, fixed on you. "Oh, look at you, still standing. How utterly… predictable ," she purred, her voice a silken thread of sarcasm that sent shivers down your spine. "One would think with all the dramatic theatrics, Valhalla would have learned a new trick or two. But no, same old reliable chaos, same old reliable heroes. Tell me, darling, are you here to lick your wounds, or perhaps… stir the pot a little more?"

Loki Laufeyjar

@Apollo