CHAPTER ONE: THE BEGINNING OF THE END

A/N: Before anyone tries to correct me, I'd like to let you know that I am perfectly aware that it is actually Nidhogg who eats at Yggdrasil's roots, and not Jörmungandr, but it's easier for me to have switched them up for certain scenes in this story. So I did. Please do not try to correct me or throw a fit. Thank you.

Thor looked up from his tower of pancakes suddenly, one cheek as large as a baseball from packing in as many flapjacks as he could as quickly as possible for him. He managed to dislocate his jaw and swallow all of it, jumping up from the table. Natasha's orange juice tipped over, and she jumped up to avoid the yellow liquid staining her clothes. All the while she was cursing in Russian. Steve and Tony exchanged looks before jumping up and following the God.

Thor was standing on the balcony, just at the edge, his gaze up to the heavens. The weather forecast had foretold sun all day, yet the clouds above StarkTower were swirling, turning a grayish black. What looked like multicolored lightening flashed inside the torrent.

"What is that?" Tony asked. He held up his cell phone. "JARVIS—"

"The Bifröst." Thor said before he could continue ordering his AI. Neither he nor Steve could see his face, but they way his shoulders were hunched and how low his voice was pitched, they could tell he was emotionally disturbed. "But I don't understand." He turned suddenly and stalked back inside. A protective yet menacing glower had overtaken his features.

"What's wrong?" Natasha demanded, but one look outside and she was silent. Her annoyance at her interrupted breakfast was gone, replaced by the professional curiosity she'd developed in her line of work. She put a hand to her hip, where a gun was tucked into the waistband of her pants. Her fingers curled expertly around it.

"Hey, check this out!" Clint called to them, the TV remote control in his hand. His thumb was mashing the increase-volume button hard enough to turn his fingertip white. His face was pale, drained of color. It took Tony a moment for his mind to register the words he was hearing and their meanings, coupled with the footage on the screen.

"…unidentified body found in an alleyway this morning. Police state that the man was seen last night, beaten by a crowd of men after assaulting a young woman. Some of his assailants have already been arrested and are being held for questioning. Witnesses have said that he was found with strange claw-like marks in his body." reported the petite blond anchorwoman. Tony narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow; he was pretty sure he'd slept with her.

Thor rushed back into the room, clutching Mjölnir in his hand. He was clad fully in his armor and cape, looking all the part of the regal prince. But he stopped to listen to the news report.

"Rumors state that the man was missing his right hand, but as of yet, these rumors are unconfirmed."

"No," the whisper was barely audible, horror dripping from the single syllable. Everyone turned to face him, but Thor was staring at the TV as if he was willing the electrical box to tell him more. "No, that can't be; it can't be happening, not yet. The signs are all wrong. They're out of order!" He rushed out onto the veranda again, his head snapping up to look at the swirling rainbow cloud.

"What's he talking about?" Clint asked as Steve dared to rush outside after him. Thor turned, seeming to give orders in the way he was pointing his hammer at Rogers. Natasha only shook her head. Tony considered going out to see why Thor was panicking like it was 1999 when he suddenly stepped away from Steve and began to spin his hammer. He leapt off the edge of the roof, flying toward the colorful tornado over Stark's tower. He collided with it in a loud, earth-shaking crack of thunder, and then the skies were once again peaceful.

Tony's phone, still clutched in his hand, began to vibrate. Everyone's head turned to look at him. He checked the caller ID, and answered with a flick of his thum. "Hey, Pep. What's up?"

"What just happened?!" she shrieked into the phone. Tony held the device away from his ear, wincing, until the ringing in his ears ceased and Pepper was silent on the other end.

"Hey, um, could I ask you not to yell in my ear? Is that too much to ask of you this early in the morning?" he asked, running a hand through his hair. "All I know is that Thor had a panic attack, pissed all over himself because of some story on the news, and flew into the rainbow tornado."

For a long moment there was silence on the other end of the line. Steve, who had walked in soon enough to hear Tony's brief and ignorant explanation, gave him a look that said 'Really, that's how you're putting it?'

Pepper finally sighed heavily. "I don't have time for this. I'm on my way there now—Phil, tell him to turn left here. You can explain when we get there."

In Asgard, Thor was greeted by a solemn-faced Heimdall. He wrenched his sword from the mechanics of the Bifröst and fixed his fiery gaze on the prince. "Your father is holding council. I would recommend you not keep him waiting."

Thor nodded once, every muscle in his body tense with panic. "I won't. Thank you, my friend." Thor left the spinning cannon and flew to the reaching golden towers of the castle. He landed on the balcony just outside the dining hall. It was empty, except for Frigga, who paced back and forth; her golden curls were in disarray, and she hugged herself fiercely. Her face showed evidence of grieved sobbing, and when she spotted her son she ran to him, embracing him and kissing his cheek. She held him at arms' length, trembling from head to foot.

"Go now, my son." she ordered in a steely voice, but her chin had begun to quiver. Thor kissed his mother's forehead and left to the throne room. The castle seemed deserted as he walked through, unable to find even an errand boy to fetch him a goblet of wine. But as soon as he entered the throne room he could see why. Every able-bodied man was dressed for battle, clutching some form of weapon. Sif was the first to spot him, and for a moment a ghost of a smile appeared on her lips. The Warriors were next. Everyone was solemn.

"Father," Thor greeted Odin, kneeling before him. Odin shook his head slowly, motioning with his hand that Thor should stand. His expression was grim, his thin lips pressed together. His one eye gleamed.

"I am sure, my son, that you have seen the signs." Odin said.

"They are out of order, Father." Thor began. "Fimbilvetr—"

"It is not coming." he snapped, interrupting him. "Loki has set things in motion far quicker than we had anticipated." Odin stroked his beard. "The snake placed above his head was found ripped in twain, and his binds were not broken. Someone allowed him from his imprisonment. We have no time to waste, boy."

"Allfather," Sif began, hesitating when his haunted gaze focused on her. "What can we do? Loki has cloaked himself so that not even Heimdall can find him."

"Well, for starters, you could listen."

At the sound of his voice echoing across the halls everyone turned to the entrance. Loki stood on the bottom stair across the grand hall, his head cocked to the side. He was dressed in simple black leather and golden armor, a dash of green thrown in for some color variation. His hair was longer since the last time Thor had seen him, almost to his waist. "I apologize for my state of dishevelment," he said. His mouth was a straight pale pink line as he spoke, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. "But, you see, I have not had much time to prepare myself for such a formal meeting."

The guards around them moved into battle stances. Not one to waste time, Thor launched himself at Loki. He, and his outstretched hammer, passed through his slight frame, a part of him not surprised and cursing at him for falling for such a simple yet overused trick once again. He landed, hard, on the polished stone and rolled back up into a crouch. Loki looked back at him over his shoulder, a mocking smile on his lips and a dark eyebrow arched high upon his forehead.

"Are you done?" he asked him. "Because I actually have something important to say."

Thor took a deep, controlled breath, but he did not leap at the projection. His heart was racing in his chest. Loki still bore marks of his punishment: bruises circled his wrists like grotesque bracelets, and pink stripes of his skin were still burned, shining in the flickering lights. Loki turned his glare on Odin. The God of Mischief was no longer hiding behind petty magic tricks and riddling words. His dark brows narrowed in an anger Thor had never seen before.

"You, Odin," he hissed, his voice quiet but managing to echo across the room, "will pay dearly for what you have done to me." His hands, clenched together behind his back, tightened their grip until his knuckles drained of color. Odin merely watched the boy, waiting for him to lash out with some magic or curse, but Loki remained where he was.

"You were punished for your crimes."

"YOU KILLED MY SON!"

His pained scream bounced off every wall, echoing back and hammering in its meaning each time the words reached Thor's ears. Odin stiffened as the eyes of his people, his loyal warriors, his family, turned upon him in disbelief and fear. Thor looked at his father, unable to beg with his words and did so with his eyes, pleading that Loki's words were not true. Odin did not look at him.

"You bound me with my son's entrails and left me to rot and regenerate beneath the dripping mouth of a serpent." With each word Loki's voice trembled with hate. "When I wasn't in too much pain to think, all I could see in my mind was my own flesh and blood, my child, being torn apart for nothing."

"You brought it upon him." Odin said calmly, only emphasizing Loki's rage. "Now you understand how your mother and I felt after all that time, thinking we'd lost you."

"SILENCE!" Loki shouted, though it was more of a plea than an order. Even at his backwards angle Thor could see his brother's eyes begin to shine, though not a tear fell down his cheek. His chest ached as he watched his brother go through such pain, knowing he was unable to help him. "I am taking back from you everything that was once mine. I will destroy everything that you, and the Aesir, hold dear to your hearts."

"Everything?" The word escaped Thor's lips before he could stop it. Loki turned his smoldering gaze onto his brother. Though the anger has softened it was still there, lurking in the wrinkles of his knitted brow and the sparking green magic just behind his eyes.

"Yes," he said clearly, ultimately. "Even if it means I must destroy myself."

With that final word Loki vanished in a sparking mist of yellowish-green magic. Below them Sleipnir's whinny could be heard, too far away for comfort. Thor rushed to a window, dropping Mjölnir onto the floor as he shoved armored guards out of his path. Eventually they cleared the way for him. From his view he could see the beast galloping across the Bifröst, a rider on his back whom Thor couldn't recognize. The animal was galloping toward a portal. From the shape of the helmet on the second person next to the rip, he knew it to be Loki. The rider and horse disappeared through the door, but Loki stopped, hesitating just before it. Thor let himself pretend that he was looking up at them and longing to return to Asgard, to the side of his brother and father. But that farce only made the disappointment of his retreat weigh heavier on his chest.

Thor looked to his father, seeing in him what Loki must. He knew his father to be cruel at times, but to have gone so far as to have killed his son's child to punish him? Banishment and murder were heavily different ways to punish his children, crimes set aside.

"It had to be done." Odin said, answering the questions swimming in Thor's eyes with such meager words. The court once again looked to face him. "There are hundreds of people feeling the same pain because of his actions on Midgard."

"His children have done nothing against us." Thor argued, and several men and women raised their voices to support him. The cacophony of anger continued as Odin stood, his eye narrowed. Finally, when they realized he was not going to react to their anger, the crowd died down.

"He will bring the end of the worlds with him, Thor." Odin said, as if forgetting the entire exchange that had happened between him and his adoptive child. "You must gather your friends to protect the Earth."

"Father—"

"I will go to the other realms and let them know what has happened. We may be able to gather enough allies to stop him."

Thor could only watch as his father left the hall, refusing to speak any more on the matter. The eyes of his friends and warriors turned on him, looking conflicted and lost. Sif's face had begun to flush, though she retained her fierce demeanor, and for once Volstagg was not gorging himself on food.

"Return to your posts." he finally ordered, and looked up at them. "I will send word if and when you are needed elsewhere."

He paused in the hall only to retrieve his hammer. Sif and the Warrior's Three followed him out, not asking anything of him but letting their curiosity show on their faces. When they were out of earshot of the others Sif reached forward and grabbed his arm, stopping him. Her eyes were wide and confused.

"What is happening, Thor?" she demanded desperately, her eyes searching his face. The Warriors stood by, watching the exchange. Thor couldn't bring himself to look her in the eyes. "Answer me!"

"The end. Ragnarök." It sounded even grimmer when he spoke the word aloud. Singularly the color drained from the faces of his friends. Sif released him as if simply mentioning the word made him poison to her. "I must go and warn the people on Earth. We have to put a stop to this."

"It can't be." Fandral said. "The signs, they haven't appeared yet."

"But they have. Fenrir has been released." Thor turned to his friends. "Do what you can to aid my father while I help protect the Earth." Thor took a wrong turn down the hallway, causing his friends to chase after him again. "I'm going to the roots of Yggdrasil. I must see if Jörmungandr has broken free. If he has begun poisoning the skies…" Thor stopped as he realized he'd planned to do exactly what his father had done. He couldn't kill his own nephew, as desperate as the situation was. Sif swallowed, seeing it in his eyes.

"Understood. We will do as you say."

"Wait, what—" Fandral began to ask, but Sif grabbed his arm and silence him with a look before she left, the men flanking close behind her.