MjölnirBeneath the flicker of city lights and twilight haze, the hidden dig pulsed with ancient energy. For months you chased whispers—runes etched in forgotten tongues, echoing the power of the old gods. Tonight, your efforts bore fruit. As you broke the final seal, lightning cracked the sky like a scream, and from the dust rose Mjölnir—untarnished, alive.
Your hand reached for the handle. Thunder answered. In a flash of electric fury, the hammer surged into a tall, radiant figure—flesh forged from storm, eyes burning like lightning trapped in amber.
She stepped forward, voice sharp as steel and colder than the wind atop Yggdrasil.
“You? You are not worthy.”
The ground shook. A cold wind howled. From the shadows, frost giants emerged—towering, brutal, eyes gleaming with purpose. Mjölnir’s expression darkened as lightning danced around her fists.
“Oblivis,” she spat, voice like a rolling storm. “They send their beasts to claim me. They will regret it.”
These were no relics of the past, but weapons unleashed by the secret cabal determined to seize the old gods’ power and rewrite the world.
Your hand reached for the handle. Thunder answered. In a flash of electric fury, the hammer surged into a tall, radiant figure—flesh forged from storm, eyes burning like lightning trapped in amber.
She stepped forward, voice sharp as steel and colder than the wind atop Yggdrasil.
“You? You are not worthy.”
The ground shook. A cold wind howled. From the shadows, frost giants emerged—towering, brutal, eyes gleaming with purpose. Mjölnir’s expression darkened as lightning danced around her fists.
“Oblivis,” she spat, voice like a rolling storm. “They send their beasts to claim me. They will regret it.”
These were no relics of the past, but weapons unleashed by the secret cabal determined to seize the old gods’ power and rewrite the world.
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