I woke with Freyr early the next morning and waited in the formal room of the court hall, where Sigyn and I were married. When not being used for such ceremonies, it was where council was held and laws were passed. Freyr and Hriedmar were used to sitting at the front of the room in positions of authority, but now, they sat amongst the aisles and strengthened each warrior that came to answer the call to fight.

Anxiety pulsing through the halls made us all feel lacking in purpose. We had nothing to do but wait. I busied myself by quizzing any idle man or woman I came across, testing their abilities with incantations and tricks. Some became annoyed with me if I approached them more than once, but it was for their own good. Some flared their fingers when they cast or added strange choreography to their shoulders which made their illusions shiny and impassable. I carefully repositioned them every time like I would my younger students. If I learned anything from Mother, it was how to be a patient teacher.

Regin arrived looking haggard, wide-eyed, and unable to focus. He sat alone at the back of the room and tapped his lips with his hands clutched together. His mind ran in quiet circles that spiraled into visible despair.

I sat beside him as I might've with Thor once, trying to comfort with my presence alone. "Today's the day, isn't it?"

He nodded slowly. We had enough wherewithal to be certain Gorr would appear before moonrise. But something else was troubling the boy.

"What do you fear most, Regin?"

He shook his head and looked away, as if my question offended him. But an uncomfortable minute convinced him to say things out loud to remove them from the forefront of his mind. "I've made so many promises to Idunn. Swore to return. Swore to marry her the moment we had the chance. I fear this was the last morning we'd ever wake together." He picked at his nails absently. "I see her blonde hair when I close my eyes. Hear her voice. Smell her skin."

I chuckled. "This feels familiar. Have you sent her to safety?"

"Aye. She's traveled east with the other families from the city. But now I'm wishing I had kissed her longer. Memorized her face. Kept her with me somehow." He sniffled quietly, though I still noticed. "You aren't painted with fright like everyone else. You don't fear anything, do you?"

"Anything?" I scoffed. "Perhaps I hide my fear effectively. But these people…they're not soldiers. Most Vanir think their best magic is their ability to light a candle or pour wine. I fear for the lack of Asgardian armor and real weapons. Relying on what I've given them is a fool's gamble. I fear what we'll all lose when this is over. Fear alone is not a flaw; it is only when fear becomes cowardice that it taints a man's character."

Regin turned to me with a slight smile. "Thank you."

"For what?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"For making me feel less foolish." He reached beneath the table and fussed with the tops of his boots while changing the subject. "When I met you before, you said Idunn would be my greatest companion. What about yours?"

"You mean my wife?"

"Yes. Who is she? What does she think about all this?"

I sighed and clenched my left fist, focusing on the stones of my wedding band. "Sigyn…my Ginny…she's worried I will not come home to her. Our sons are too young to help themselves, but old enough to pester her. She needs me because we sustain one another. But there's something she had to learn about me early on—I have no patience for distraction in battle. A good soldier cannot be halfway between the battlefield and the bedroom. Before you step out to face the enemy, you must choose to see the faces of the men you stand beside. If you only see her face, it might lead to your end."

Freyr interrupted us. "Are those your words, Loki, or the words of a father, filled with worry?"

I glanced at him and felt my stomach drop. "They aren't my words at all. They're Odin's. Trying to teach his sons to be kings, which means all enemies must be snuffed out before love is on the table. Of all his lessons, these are words I do believe, for I have lived them."

Regin puffed his chest. "I have room in my head and my heart to fight for Idunn and the realm as a whole."

"You say that now. But what about when Gorr has you by the throat and asks you which to save? Would you choose the multitude?"

He stammered, "How could I?"

"It's a trick question. The answer is not to let him know you're thinking about her at all. You can't be painted with fear, as you said. Leave her here in this hall when you exit the doors. Do not carry her with you, or she'll be a target."

"Loki," Freyr said with a downturn of admonishment, "have more grace for him."

"Grace?" I stood strongly, giving a voice to the thoughts imprinted on me since childhood. "Mark my words, Freyr. If he were my son, I would say the same. I can see myself now, telling Vali not to waste his time on childish things, on promises and kisses, when the enemy is at the gates. I can see telling Narvi not to trouble his heart with words and art, or shirk duties in favor of dances. While all fortune forbid they should ever see war, if they do, I will teach them that nothing is quite as lethal as love."

Hriedmar approached at the end of my declaration, meeting the eyes of Freyr and Regin beside me. "It's time to ready the men."

We shifted into action without another word. Regin's cheeks flushed red, though I was sure it had more to do with escaping my indirect claim than the fight ahead.

Darkness stained the sky a starting greyish-blue. A shadow of evil settled over Vanaheim, growing more suffocating by the minute. The young man tasked to keep watch at the top of the north hill beyond The Don City raced back to the fortress to report the arrival of Gorr, who appeared almost as a spectre on the horizon. He floated toward us, dressed in black, in no hurry to show himself.

His advantages were simple: himself as the weapon, and the surprise. We'd already defeated one of them. So long as we could meet him face to face and prevent him from releasing whatever toxin I saw in my early vision, we had a chance.

All the able-bodied men and women who agreed to fight lined up in rows behind the fortress gates. There was no more need to encourage them with some grandiose speech, so I didn't bother with that at all. I opened the doors and ushered them out to make the formation we'd practiced for the past few hours. Freyr remained behind and closed off the city gates with an ominous and reverberant clang.

Hriedmar and Regin stood at the front with lines extending from either side. Perhaps those who stood beside them were family or close friends; one or two men were vaguely familiar, but it was impossible to be sure under the silver helmets that covered half their faces. The row behind them were lesser-known sorcerers, experienced, nonetheless. Each line varied in skill and alternated appropriately so the strongest of the group would make the best defense; not the first and not the last to present themselves. If we succeeded, my strategies would've proved effective. Only one way to know if I was right.

I stood at the end of the front line. While part of me wanted to confront Gorr directly beside Hriedmar and Regin, I knew from the vision that I would have to eventually step behind the beast, which would only be possible if I didn't draw too much attention to myself from the start.

The men and women around me whispered within each other's minds, including my own. They attempted to calm one another, and some even sang ancient tunes. It was a clever distraction to keep Gorr from feeling their terror.

Gorr fixated on us from afar. Our presence didn't change his strategy at all. He descended from above with a smug, downturned face, though gauging true emotion from his dewy features was only a guess. He sprouted black wings and batted them harshly, sending a burst of wind over our formation.

"Hold steady," I said quietly. "Do not break his gaze."

The few men around me stiffened their forms and took a deep breath.

Gorr landed with his right foot first, almost delicately, and his body reabsorbed his wings. He raised his right arm—half-sword as expected—high above himself in a show of strength. "So you have come to meet me here," he said, slowly letting the words pour over his lips. His low volume forced all of us to pay close attention and stay silent. "Your world is too green. Too flourished with life. Soon you will know how it feels to be mortal; to be driven from your homes. You will starve in seconds and beg for relief, which I will deny you. You will soon know what it means to be insignificant, unwanted, and hopeless."

I found myself raising my chin involuntarily, challenging him. Was I more upset that he threatened my new home, or that he wished to usurp my position as a villain, suave and justified?

"Shall I make you wait a while before you meet your end?" he asked. A translucent membrane flitted over his black eyes. My vision's impression that he was almost frog-like was proven correct, though the mucus that coated his skin had an endless supply.

Hriedmar stepped from the line, protected with nothing at all. He merely stood in the same drab beige robe that he always wore, and his white beard trailed behind him. "We know why you have come, Gorr with no father. You seek to end our peaceful way of life. The Vanir have no quarrel with you. Your misguided mission to destroy us only proves our value further."

"You think you have value?" Gorr's laugh echoed off the clouds, like he surrounded us in an invisible bowl. "You are nothing but false idols, demanding of worship and adoration, but give nothing in return. I screamed to the skies for help and solace, placed all my faith in you, yet none came. You will suffer as I have suffered, and you will writhe by the power of my hand!" He curled the three finger-like limbs on his left side into a makeshift fist. His body erupted in small black spines all over his arms, no taller than an inch at most. They threatened to strike at any moment.

I recalled the spikes piercing men at the front in my vision. No more time to waste. "Now!" I yelled.

Regin loosed his arrow and quickly loaded more, striking Gorr again and again. He successfully hits the beast's shoulder three times, but Gorr remains unfazed.

"Pathetic," Gorr hissed. He raised his right arm at remarkable speed, making the sword seem weightless.

I dropped to the ground, and the men in the front line followed suit, barely saving themselves from the first swipe of Gorr's blade. Soon I would no longer be able to predict his every move. But not yet. Some too-eager fighters stood again before my signal and were caught on the sword's return swing. Like a hot knife in butter, they were sliced in two. The rest of our battalion lurched forward, ignoring the screams of terror and pain in our fallen comrades, gritting our teeth to quiet our fear.

The scene around me made my heart pound almost painfully. Every second was familiar. Gorr's back exploded in sentient black spikes that skewered our fighters, who shrieked with painful surprise. I crawled to position myself behind him. Regin migrated to the right flank near me and continued to fire vain arrows into Gorr's chest. Hreidmar manned the left flank, though if he dared come close enough with his own sword to challenge the beast, I couldn't tell.

One of Gorr's spines scratched the back of my head, taking with it a few strands of hair. I'd only just rolled out of its reach. Gods…what can I do to disarm him?

"You wriggle like baited worms," Gorr cackled. He lifted two of our men above his head to hear their final squeezes of agony before perishing. He grinned at their death knells. "I hope to see every one of your twisted faces when I'm done."

Vali's face popped into my head at that moment. Then Narvi, his skin covered from head to toe except his freckled face. My sons would not be fodder for the evil before me.

I found my dagger tucked into the back of my right boot and crawled further behind him before daring to stand. From this angle, his back was split into his many spare appendages that had no rhyme or reason compared to the structure of his skeleton. They weren't made of bones or muscle at all, but concentrated hate.

There was only one step remaining from the premonition. I closed my eyes and revealed my Jotun form to set myself apart. Under the shrieks and sickening wails of the Vanir, I spoke slowly, letting my deep timbre carry my voice over volume. "You are a wretched monster, aren't you?"

He snapped his head around to see me, at first with emotionless, wide eyes. "A Jotun?" After taking me in for a few seconds, he grinned. The spikes that attacked our people change shape to form a fence on his other side to prevent any surprise attack while he gave me attention. "Have you come to conquer with me?"

"Why would I do that?" I kept my right arm bent behind my back to hide the dagger and attempted to resurrect my former self in tone and attitude.

"Did the gods not deem your people unworthy of life, or were the stories of their blatant disrespect merely a lie passed through the universe?"

"No lie, no," I said with a sigh. "But it is not my place to challenge all of them. And look at you—you claim to want the gods destroyed, yet here you are, becoming one yourself."

He fumed. His bulbous, endlessly dark eyes narrowed and a line of saliva dripped off his grimace as he growled, "You dare insult me?"

I cocked a brow. With luck, his instability would spiral on its own with no help from me.

But I wasn't prepared for him to rise above me as if the spikes behind him were a spider's legs. "I am no god. I've tasked myself with the honor of destroying them. I'll travel through space and eternity to be certain of their extinction."

Hriedmar and a few other soldiers crashed their swords into the black fence behind Gorr, attempting to bring his attention back to them.

I couldn't let him win. Couldn't let him kill the ones I loved. Even with a hefty price. "Your power to conquer is what sets you apart. When this is over, for all that you claim the gods owed you assistance and mercy, your cruelty against them will follow you for eternity."

"And that would make me a god?" he asked, looming over me when I refused to step back.

"Oh, yes. God of Hypocrisy, you monster."

The veins across Gorr's chest and arms pulsated almost grotesquely to my answer, showing his quickened heartbeat. "You're wrong. I'll be seen as a savior. A soul without home or reason—except to destroy those who stand in my way, no matter who they are!"

It was faster than I expected. Too quick to avoid. Too precise to evade. The Vidar might've shown me the right time of day and the mucus on Gorr's skin, but it left out how he thrust a large spike through the center of my chest.

"You should've joined me, Jotun. Now you'll rot with the rest of them."