The five of them walked out to the bifrost, which was still in wreckage from battle the day before.

They came up behind Heimdall, who was standing facing the open universal portal, his head down and his eyes closed, expression very grim. As he felt them approaching, he opened his eyes and lifted his head. "I am very sorry for your loss."

Thor put a hand on his shoulder. "That is why we are here, Heimdall. We are embarking on a journey to Helheim to retrieve Loki's soul." Heimdall just stared at them, expression blank and unchanging. "A quest of that gravity is a likely one to fail, and fatally." Thor looked up to the sky and sighed. "We know our odds. We have made the decision."

Heimdall, knowing from experience that any of Thor's final decisions were certainly unmoveable, let it go. "I presume the Allfather does not know of this venture?" "There is no reason to tell him. He will only try to discourage us from going, which will lead to no prevail." Heimdall raised his eyebrow. "In this instance, I believe I agree with you, my lord."

They got into transportation position, and Heimdall lifted the sword. "Proceed with the utmost care," he said, and lowered his sword. They were pulled though the open space around the realms, whizzing by stars and colours.

When they touched down on the realm of Helheim, it was nothing like anything they had ever seen before. There was no sun, no moon, no stars. The sky was a pitch black, but there was light, a glow seemingly coming from nowhere. There was mist everywhere, and shadows that lurked behind dead trees. It was all very eerie.

As they started walking, Fandral noticed some of the shadows following them, overtaking their own shadows. They all looked at each other. Sif opened her mouth. "Everyone's thinking it, so I'm just going to say it; What did we get ourselves into?"

They kept walking, passing piles of bones here and there, sometimes seeing a face in the mist twisted with anguish. But it was mostly filled with wandering people. Wandering souls. Some did not know they had died, others were crying, and others were bravely dealing with the realization.

One man came up to them and asked if Asgard was alright, if they had won against the Jotuns. This warrior must have died long ago, in the very battle that changed history with Asgard and… Loki.

Thor directed his gaze to the faces of people. They almost all looked washed out, unrecognizable. A few of the newer dead still kept their previous features, but it was hard to tell who was who. They looked off into the distance, to see where the realm would lead them if travelled fully, and saw nothing but eternal continuation of the blackness.

Someone came up to them. It was an older maid, dressed in servant's clothing. "Excuse me, good sir, but you look confused," she said to Thor. "We're looking for someone… would you be able to tell us how to find a soul by the name of Loki?" Her expression turned dead serious, and something flashed across her face, but then she became kindly again.

"Well, trying to seek out one soul in all this realm would surely take years upon years to find. I presume you came to rescue a loved one from the afterlife?" "Yes. He is my brother. We only have 3 days, and we must find him!" She looked around, to make sure no one else was listening.

"I know a place where some souls go at first. They generally migrate all around, but initially begin there." Thor's face lit up with hope. "What is this place you speak of?" The woman looked on sadly. "It is called the wandering fields of the damned. Mostly scorned souls go there. Not necessarily evil, but greatly scorned. Though alas, you must die to walk this terrain." Their faces fell. "There must be some way around it?" inquired Sif.

The woman again checked to see if there were no peeping gazes around her. She pulled out a stone from inside her shawl. It was a brilliant green, and it glowed, green smoke swirling around it. But deep, deep in the centre of this hypnotizing gem, there was a darkness stirring. She looked at all of them with her serious face.

"This is an ancient stone of pure magic, conjured from Helheim's great mountains of the wicked. There were only 5 stones that existed in all of time, and I possess one of them. It has a hypnotic affect on many races, hard to tell which ones. For some creatures, it enslaves you to a deep and powerful spell, one that cannot be broken so easily. This stone was created for your sole purpose, to retrieve souls from that part of Helheim. But beware the darkness in the heart of it; it grows every day, and once your three days are up, the stone is fully encased in a deathly black."

She handed Thor the stone. "Be very careful with it. If you lose it, all hope is lost, for you and your quest."

Thor took it with grateful hands. "Thank you. It is most kind for you to grant us this gem. I will speak to Odin, the Allfather, and I will ask him to grant you a space in Valhalla." She just smiled mysteriously, and walked off, vanishing into the mist. Thor tucked the gem into his weapons belt.

"We must trek to the Wandering Fields of the Damned!"