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CHAPTER 108
🕑 Added 2025-07-22 15:39:16 +0000 UTCOdin and Aidan strode out of the treasury, the heavy doors sealing behind them with a resonant thud that echoed through the halls. The Allfather's single eye bored into Aidan like a laser. "You've got the artifacts, boy. Deliver results—quick. I'll send an expert to work alongside you." His voice carried the rumble of thunder.
"The forge is ready," Odin added, glancing at the armored guard at his side. "Eitri will guide you."
Aidan nodded sharply, his veins buzzing with anticipation. "Appreciate it, Eitri." They bid Odin farewell and moved out, the king's presence fading like a storm passing.
The "forge" was Aidan's personal lab, rigged with every piece of gear he'd requested, humming and ready for action. As ruler of the Nine Realms, Odin had no trouble sourcing it all—or enchanting substitutes where needed. This setup was for crafting a single space pillar, a dimensional spike to test the waters. Succeed, anchor it in the target world, and materials would flood through like an open vein. A full bridge array? That'd demand a war's worth of resources, but the challenge lit a fire in Aidan's gut.
Over those three days, Aidan pushed hard: mornings lost in spellbooks, afternoons drafting supply lists for the Magic Weapons team. Asgard's vaults held wonders—advanced relics that outclassed his designs, scraps from forging the Rainbow Bridge itself, each one pulsing with raw power that made his hands itch to build.
Eitri led the way from Asgard's gleaming center, over rugged peaks where the wind howled and rocks shifted underfoot like they might give way. Aidan's breath came sharp, the trek fueling his adrenaline as they reached the city's wild edge. A cave loomed ahead, its mouth black as night, overgrown with weeds and flanked by jagged stones that looked sharpened for battle.
"This the place?" Aidan asked, scanning the shadows, ready for anything.
Eitri grunted yes, drawing a silver key that shimmered like forged lightning. They stepped into the void, darkness closing in. Then Eitri's grip ignited—yellow energy flared from the key, cutting the black. Ahead, magic stirred: glowing lines erupted in the air, snaking and branching fierce, weaving a barrier of light. A massive silver door coalesced, runes crackling like embers in a blaze. The key lifted on its own, slamming into the central slot with a click that vibrated through Aidan's bones. The door groaned open, unleashing a flood of brilliant white light that scorched away every doubt.
The key dropped back to Eitri. "Take it. Incantation's 'Toesela.'" He thrust it forward, the metal still warm with power.
Aidan snatched it, eyes wide as he entered. The lab gleamed—sterile white walls of some Asgardian alloy, smooth and unbreakable, designs curved for speed and strength. Machines dotted the space, some familiar, others alien beasts waiting to roar. His heart slammed; this was where he'd bend reality.
"Hold," Eitri said from behind. "Vogt's inbound to demo the gear."
"Vogt?" Aidan echoed, the name clicking. But the remoteness grated. "This lab's in the middle of nowhere. Hauling ass to the Magic Hall's gonna be a pain." He leaned in, voice low. "No spots closer? You guys short on real estate?"
Asgard's grand layout prioritized defense over ease—they'd rushed the build, hollowing out the nearest cave. Eitri's gaze shifted, a rare slip of unease.
"Fine, it'll serve," Aidan said, dropping into a chair that adjusted like it anticipated him.
A voice boomed from the entrance. "Pardon the isolation—time was short, so we claimed the sturdiest site and loaded it with elite tech. Power flows direct, no interruptions." A gaunt elder in black robes, silver armor flashing underneath, entered with a seasoned fighter's poise.
Aidan whipped around. "And you?"
"Vogt. I'll master your Space Bridge and time bombs while showing you these instruments."
"Aidan Parker." He clasped the man's grip—rough, forged in fire.
Vogt arched a brow. "Midgard's tech handles planetary hops now?"
"Just my inventions," Aidan said. "The world's not there yet."
"Heard you're Asgard's weapon wizard," Aidan added, excitement building. "Looking forward to trading secrets—you're the guy I've been eager to meet."
But Vogt frowned at his youthful features. "Human terms, you're a teen—barely grown."
"Guilty," Aidan said, mouth quirking.
"Ten years? You'd need to dream this up in the cradle. Mentors? Downloaded knowledge? Even then..." Vogt muttered, spiraling into skepticism.
Aidan stayed silent, letting it pass.
"Anyway," Aidan cut in, gesturing at the odd devices, "teach me these. I'll tinker later if needed, but experiments will shake out the kinks."
Vogt blinked back. "Apologies. Begin with the Positional Conductor." He approached a vibrant square machine. "Feed energy here." His finger plunged into a groove, and the rig exploded to life, runes igniting like fireworks. Power ripped through, awakening the lab in a symphony of glows and whines—the heart of the operation, an engine primed to unleash.
Aidan's blood pounded harder. "For spatial targeting?"
"Here," Vogt nodded, striding to a suspended cylinder, its form etched with mysteries ready to tear open the stars.
