A city of sterling silver erected from the base orange and brown soil hums
gently with a cold, inorganic consistency. Small pod-like crafts, in comparison
to the grand scale of the post-modern kingdom, flutter vibrantly from and towards
their metallic hive. From further depths of space the inhabitants of the dwarfed
galactic ships appear as multi-faceted eyes for their vehicles, smaller parts
of a larger whole, which in turn makes up the system of the city, which in itself
is its own fraction of something more important than it alone.
Protruding obviously among the masses of metal and circuitry, with hints of a foreign era of chivalry and nobility draped about him like the ancient threads he wears, there is an individual. He is a singular, powerful force with his own thoughts, his own goals, and his own actions. Perhaps his arrival, an unknown body thrust into a delicate system, will go without a conflict. Or maybe he will be rejected from the carefully placed workings. Maybe his presence will destroy he whole structure from the inside out.
No matter the outcome, he still glides frictionless over the smooth surface of nothing towards the shining kingdom covering its sphere of dirt. He dodges larger obstacles and forces his path through smaller ones without remorse. His urgency is dire, as are his intentions. His home, his people, are dying, and so is…
Thor
#536
September Year 3
"Lined With Silver"
By Will Short
What Hath Gone Before
The Norse God of Thunder, Thor, witnessed a mysterious flash in the midst of space in which planets and stars disappeared. Upon returning home, he found Asgard suddenly in ruins and his father Lord Odin as well as himself sickly and weakened. Thor left in search of the cause of this while the citizens of Asgard prepared for death and the ill of Midgard found symptoms of the larger plague...
One Hour Ago, in an Uncharted Area of Space...
The Power Cosmic, wielded by the being Galactus and other cornerstones of the universe, is almost an organic energy, with its own textures and patterns and its own specific flavor of raw power. Those in command of the power emanate an all-engulfing aura with its astounding magnitude. For others who know its touch, the Power Cosmic and its wielders are easily tracked by following their trail of unique traces like a rabid greyhound. Thus the Thunder God Thor follows his senses in the direction of the power, and he who contains it, the Silver Surfer. At the Surfer’s full speed, Thor has swung his hammer forcefully to keep up, and finally, to approach.
"Surfer…!" The godly voice calls from behind the Silver Surfer and his unnamed companions. "Surfer, I bid thee…halt! I wish for words with thou!" Rushing sounds apparently keep Thor’s words out of the Surfer’s grasp. To his hammer, he speaks again. "I Prithee, Mjolnir, that the sickness has not affected thou as well." With that, he swings the mallet Mjolnir swiftly around, bringing him ahead of the racing trio. He calls to them once more.
"Silver Surfer…please, slow yourself. ‘Tis most urgent!"
The Zenn-Lavian’s glossy gaze meets Thor’s rushing form. "Thor? Nova, Avatar... stop quickly."
The three fight inertia to slow their travels, and finally the current in space caused by its power is dammed and drawn to stillness. His request granted, Thor also comes to a halt until the three float effortlessly in the vacuum.
With a metallic edged voice, the Silver Surfer greets the Viking god. "Greetings, Thor. It is a pleasant surprise to find you so deep into space’s expanse."
"It would be, Surfer, though ‘tis I who found thou, and your companions." Thor nods at the two women accompanying him, each unique and beautiful. "'Tis good to see thou, Nova, though I wish it were under better circumstances."
The shining woman of flame and gold nods back to him. "Nice to see you too, Thor...but that doesn't sound good."
"I assure you that things are not. And what of this beauty?" Thor motions to the winged woman carrying a straight sword of flames, noble and certainly of regal appeal. "Be she some Valkyrie whose way was lost from the ranks of Valhalla? Or some bird turned to flesh by magic?"
"She is the Avatar of Life and Death." The Silver Surfer quickly cuts off any response showing the offense she may feel. "We are headed to see Galactus and the creature of the Negative Zone Annihilius*, in a hurry actually…"
"Then I shan't bother thou an longer than needed. I, too, am to be swift."
(* See why in the "Rage Against the Machine" story line starting with Silver Surfer #31- Will)
To any being who has dealt with Thor before, it would be obvious that something is amiss, for his sharp blue eyes are without their usual brightness, and his body, though still mighty and a weapon unto itself, hangs looser than it would. The Silver Surfer notices this and is off-set because of it.
"What is it you wish, Thor? You seem preoccupied."
"I am a good deal more than that. The heavens are uneasy, friend. Have you felt it?" Thor eyes his comrade closely, a burning behind his stare.
"Felt what…? You do not look well, friend."
Thor looks over the emptiness behind him and casts a thick arm out as though beckoning towards the nothing he finds.
"There is unrest among the stars and all in between them. The solid and constant things of the universe are aught besides." He withdraws his hand and places his head of gold locks in his hand. "I have seen stars fade and planets die in recent days, Surfer, like they were erased from time. There is a grave disorder of chaos that plagues all I see. Tell me, Surfer…" Turning back and standing closer to the silver-dipped rider, practically face to face, "Dost thou feel it?"
The one formerly called Norin Radd hesitates while staring deeply into Thor. "I feel many things, if not all, within the boundaries of space. The Power Cosmic keeps me in tune with the universe's state. There is constantly unrest...there always will be. It is the balance of nature." Studying Thor's desperate face more, the Surfer asks him, "You claim to have seen stars and planet themselves vanish, and this I do not doubt, Thor. But obviously you are troubled...could that not bend your perceptions? These places do not cater well to one's senses..."
At the suggestions, Thor's anxiety takes full hold. His two trunk-like arms grab the Surfer's shoulders with a grip to ravage normal silver. He is not in control of his actions, or at least so the Silver Surfer hopes, a raging bearing of his teeth as he speaks forcefully.
"I have seen my home in ruins without explanation. I have seen my beloved father, God among Gods, withered and lame on the Throne of Asgard. Even I myself am beginning to feel the true entropy. Is this all illusion, Surfer? Am I but a mad soothsayer to thou?"
The Surfer's comrades both jump at this sudden hostile display, but he holds a hand to keep them at bay. Without so much as wincing the entire time, the former herald responds calmly. "Thor...you are obviously upset, and so I will kindly ask you to unhand me. I did not know the scale of your troubles, and I apologize."
Thor looks to his limbs. Veins pump heated blood, muscles ripple and contract, all in the face of a friend. His fingers, each more powerful than a mortal man, are digging into the Surfer's lustered hide. Is it from fear? Or anger? Or is it truly a sickened madness? Thor quickly lets go and faces the opposite direction.
"As do I. I...I am sick, Surfer, and with both my homes in danger, I fear I may be prey to strange moods."
"You say 'both your homes'...you mean both Asgard and Earth?"
"I mean everything, as far I can tell. It finds the healthy ill, and tears even the Golden Realm asunder. As my eyes have seen, Midgard remains untouched in comparison to my first home...but I believe all things to be in danger, Surfer, and it leaves a bitter taste in mine mouth. Some evil is afoot, great enough to take all there is under it. Of this I am sure. I feel it rot my mind, body, and soul." Thor seems more sorrowed than desperate now. The others, or at least the Silver Surfer and Nova, feel this sorrow...and final admit to feel something else.
"Norin...you know, I think.....I think I've felt it too."
Wrinkling a small section of his plated brow, the Surfer speaks with her, albeit quietly. "Do you?"
"Yeah. And now that I think about it, I've felt it for a little while...I've just been so busy and thinking so much that I didn't notice it. But it's there."
"What is it? Is it a presence? Or...?"
She stops him by placing her feminine hand on his shoulder. "It's a disease. It's a dark, horrible disease. Just think...you should feel it before I do."
With concern he silently agrees and opens himself to access any and all feelings he could have. It is there. Like a pin prick, magnified billions of times, then infected over and over, never healing, never dying...he has felt it all the while. He may have even felt it before it happened, and he realizes this now. The Silver Surfer shudders slightly, a chill through his bones.
He opens his blank eyes again and finds Nova in his sight. "Did you feel it?" The Surfer remains silent, unable to find words to respond. But Nova does not need his answer. She can tell. "Yeah...you did."
"Thor. Please, tell me..." The Surfer says after turning from his counterparts. "I wish to help you, but we are already involved in an important situation. I cannot help but feel guilty for not sensing it before...so I ask, how else can I help? What do you need?"
"I know naught but your own knowledge, my friend. The mystery has yet to unfold any more since I left Asgard, and even adding your own might to mine would do little without knowing the cause."
"There must be some hope."
Nova is racing to find some answer that is nagging in the back of her mind. She finds it close, almost in reach, just on the tip of her tongue...some place she has been to that can help. It is a city that is a planet that is a machine...
A quick glimpse of the Silver Surfer's eternal coating makes something within her click. The Silver City...the Watching City.....
"K'Rann."
The other three look at her quickly in wonderment. "What word did thou speaketh?"
"K'Rann."
"The Watching City...? Could they be of help?"
"What city dost thou mean? I've yet to come across a Watching City."
"There is a planet that's really just one big city...it's called K'Rann."
Thor grooms his hammer, resting at his side, like a furred pet or a patch of facial hair. He finds only the enchanted leather grips of his handle, but it is a familiar feeling, and comforting. "A city that is a planet...thy travels take thou to many places, herald."
"And I'll take you there too..." A quick look from the Surfer causes Nova to rethink her words. "Or at least, I'll give you a way to get there." Nova points a slim finger to Mjolnir, comfortably at Thor's side. "May I?"
"Aye...though I must be the one to hold it." As powerful, more so, than the oft thought fabled Excalibur, Mjolnir is held easily by a single Asgardian arm. When Nova's hard flesh touches it in an engulfing caress, sparks of magicks both ancient and cosmic flicker in a display of minute magnificence. The exchange lasts only seconds, and the Uru mallet has an added glow afterwards.
"You should be able to get there now. The hammer knows the way."
To Nova's surprise, though not to her displeasure, Thor takes her hand and places a gently kiss upon it. "My thanks to thee, Lady Nova. If I succeed, not only I but Asgard, Midgard, and aught else will be in your debt." She smiles back, a light flame behind shining teeth.
"Aw...it wasn't much."
"Will you be well on your own, Thunderer?" His tone and question is mainly of concern.
"I will, Surfer. As well as can be hoped. I must go...yet there is one more thing I simply must do. There may never be another chance." As suddenly as before, Thor takes the hand of the Avatar, strong and smooth, and places his lips to it while looking at her beautiful face. Once he has dropped her arm to her side, coinciding the fist holding the sword of flames, he commends her. "Thy beauty is beyond most royalty of the Golden Realm. I pray by Od's throne we meet again." He looks to the duo of heralds. "And to you too." All are silent, even the slightly offended Avatar of Life and Death.
His hammer slings circular from his hand as a small whirlwind of charged twirls, then with a single motion, he thrusts through and away with added speed. Farther and deeper from the three until he is out of sight, yet not out of mind.
The trio resume their original trajectory. Unease spreads through them, all feeling the lasting bite of Thor's diminishing personae and the underlying feeling of bitter truth to his claims.
"Norin? Is he.....going to be okay? You know, alone."
"He is a God. Crazed or not, he will be fine. I would worry more for K'Raan...but there are more important matters. Thor has the dignity, the royalty of any being I've met so far. Now come, we must hurry." So they do, kisses given and confused minds unsure enough for one day.
Moments Ago in Odin’s Court of Asgard…
Still. Quiet. Calm. Serene.
The Elder God Odin rests peacefully in his throne. The breath he draws is long, without much of any noise to bring attention to it. While the air sucked through his nostrils is refreshing, the All-Father cannot help but gasp and cough painfully. After the moment it takes for him to regain control of his large lungs once more, he sinks further into his royal seat laden with riches beyond most Asgardians’ hopes for wealth.
There is a sapphire, shined and as rich a violet as the flower of the same name, which can ward off the fiercest of Frost Giants, but no other creatures. The hide of a dead troll-dog, the largest ever recorded in Asgard, killed by Odin’s bare hands rests underneath his back. A red ruby whose succulent oval form, almost like a ripe fruit, allows one to transcend space if of true heart serves as the head stone. The golden dragons and birds carved carefully into the sides are rendered with caring and perfect detail, while posts made of magical Uru lined with fine silver act as staffs only to rest the King of Asgard’s hands.
Odin One-Eye would gladly give each of these treasure and any others to heal his home and its people. But no offering has ben made, no payment asked…So he sits silently, alone to await the ending.
A rumble. A voice. A hint of magic’s scent. A presence all too familiar.
"Odin…my father Odin…dost thou hear mine words prick thy ear?"
"…I do. Cease your concealment and…*cough*…appear before me, if thou retain any honor." Odin commands, still holding his position if only by words alone.
"Thou knowest I do not…yet I shall, as a last request."
"then show yourself…" Phantom lights of yellow, green, and black fade into sight and collect themselves to thrive and grow into a larger form and finally solidify. A tall god with a wily grin and eye presents himself to Odin’s stare.
"…Utgard-Loki."
"Why, father," says Loki, observing Odin as he paces, "Thy might looks diminished. Art thou ill?" A mischievous tone usual or the Fire God is heard.
"Aye, Loki. Thou do not looketh much well either."
Loki’s smile intensifies. "Oh, but I am, my king. I am." His pacing leads him away from the throne, his back to Odin. "Wouldst thou care to know why?"
Odin breathes a deep sigh, coughs, and replies. "Only if thou will get to it. I do not enjoy games, Loki, and I have not since thou and thy stepbrother Thor were but babes. So tell me…tell me why thou art so well, in the face of your father and king’s demise and your home’s destruction. Do so, or you will be asked to leave."
With a slow spin, Loki faces Odin once more. His incessant beaming hides a suppressed painful cringe. "I am all so well because I will not die with the Golden City. Under my hand it now falls, and under my rule it will thrive once more, a phoenix returned and devoid of thou and my dear, dear brotehr Thor." Loki pauses, and he searches the Raven Lord’s face for a sign of reaction. "Well? What say thou?"
It starts as a small wisp of a laugh, almost a giggle, if such is possible for the Father of the Norse Gods. But it builds, and builds, and Odin chuckles heartily and with such force that small tears are brought to his remaining eye. Before him Loki becomes confused and gradually angry with this reaction.
"You laugh, Odin? You dare laugh in the wake of my destruction?"
He wipes the laughter-tears away and chokes on himself some while the swell of the outburst dies down. "Hahaha…haha…oh, Loki. Young Loki…thou art the God of Lies, this I know. Yet even I thought it impossible for you to trick yourself so easily."
Cowering slightly, Loki asks him, "Wh…what dost thou mean?"
"You are not the cause of this, trickster. If thou were, I would have caught thy foul scent long ago. You are to die with us, my son, and there is no exception."
Green-gloved fists ball up in frustration, Loki’s voice an explosion in the recent quiet of Odin’s court. "I did do this! There is not doubt in that! Only I, the…*ahem*…I the Master Trickster…th-the…..*cough-cough*…"
"Hush, Loki." As Loki's presentation deteriorates, Odin's seems to improve some. Asgard's throne holds a stiffer, stronger body than before. "Thou have always been a naive soul, green son. This is the throne of the Aesir. I shan't be forced from it lest I wish it be so."
"But father, so many times..."
"So many times it has seemed that others have bested me? That I have appeared vanquished? Perhaps this is so." A breath that is more confident is taken into the Over-God's chest. "Would a life of only victories not be mundane, Loki? Wouldst thou even know? I suppose not...but listen and listen to me well." Loki cowers underneath the thick shadow of his father, covering and crushing him like heavy sin, as the Aesir King leans forward.
"From the Days of Olde to Ragnarok, be it this very moment or thousands of sunsets away, I am Lord Odin the One-Eye, your father and King. None shalt best me in any shape of form in the Palace of Gold, for it is here that I am most powerful. Not the Rainbow Serpent unraveled from Midgard and come for my entrails. Not the High Demon Surter with his flamesword held above me. Not Lady Hela or her Realm of the Damned and its probationers. Not Ymir, not a horde of Trolls, not a fellow Overlord. Not even my beloved son whose place as Asgard's champion leaves him as my sole heir. And certainly not thou, Utgard-Loki, Father of the Fenris Wolf, Master Trickster, Lord of Deceit and Flame. These titles mean naught to my position nor me. This thou will remember, for all time, lest thy cowardice forces thou to expel it from your memory. No matter. It shall always be true. Now go," Odin's confident tone turns pitied, "Return to Sigyn while thou still art able to. I wish to be alone."
With a quivering lip and sore, bent knees, Loki solemnly tells his father, "But Odin...she...*cough*...she has also fallen ill..."
"I know, Loki. Now go."
Empty. Tired. Ancient. Lonely.
These things are the Court of Asgard, inhabited by only Lord Odin, sick and constant in the scheme of all.
This Moment, in the Space Surrounding K'Raan...
Nova’s power proved both correct and swift. In less than an hour’s time, Thor has been pulled by Mjolnir through areas never before seen by Asgardian eye, only to bring him to this point. He looks over the proud Silver city resting atop the tired soil base of the planet. An entire world, one city made of steel lined with modest silver…
All kingdoms must have entrances. K’Raan’s is easily found, an enormous rectangular area by which the buzzing ships may come and go. Thor sees it only as a door.
KNOCK KNOCK
Powerful blows, merely knocks to the Prince of Asgard, put dents into the door’s material. A small alarm can be heard in the distance, though Thor gives them no heed.
KNOCK…KNOCK…CRUNCH!
The alarm is fairly obvious to him now, nearer, louder. The gaping tear in the door allows a rush of oxygen to filter through to escape its captivity. There is another beeping alarm at the entrance. Then another, and still another. With haste Thor enters through the hole into the docking area. Floating on dead space, he realizes the trouble and looks to the door.
"Od’s will…give me power!" Illuminating the room is a quick strike of violent lightning. The bolt leaps from Thor’s hammer, channeled, and in hitting the door binds its broken flesh with electricity and heat. Once more the air is held hostage for use, and the lost gravity of the room is reinstated with a tiny mechanical sound. One or two of the alarms have stopped, but others still disorient Thor’s sensitive ears. The barrage of noise is almost unbearable.
"Hold, outsider." The voice from behind forces the god’s immediate attention. His helmet lays crooked over his tangled blonde hair, his eyes wide with discomfort and anxiety, and a grimace of pain on his lips. Looking like insects themselves in strange suits of white, the men greeting his sight each carry firearms of advanced appearance. Again, one of them speaks Thor in hostility, through the speaker located on his frighteningly modern ware. "Put your weapon down now and keep quiet."
Thor breathes heavily. "Thou speaketh…to me?"
"He speaks strangely. He’s obviously a different type of outsider." Another soldier says.
"One with enough power to breach the entire hull of K’Raan by himself, agent. We cannot take this lightly." The first warns, looking away for a moment. He looks back to Thor, nudging his gun in the air. "Come on, you…get up. You must answer to Harrid."
Rising like a fallen angel, Thor puts one hand to his head to sooth his pain then looks over the small group of men. Five, maybe six in all, each with a powerful weapon never beheld by the Thunder God.
"I take no orders. Lower thy weapons, I am no enemy. I wish to speak to this realm’s king."
"King?" one asks with machine-like indifference. "We have no king. The only one to speak to is Harrid, and you will be answering to him shortly. Drop your weapon…whatever it is."
"I will do no such thing. Mjolnir shan’t leave my hand." Thor states solemnly.
"Fine. It makes no difference to us. Men…" All as one they raise and prepare their instruments of destruction. "…..Fire!"
The weapons flare orange underneath their thin metal shells and fire an energy of the same sort at the Norse god, hitting him directly in the chest. Each beam hits at the same time, in the same place, with the force of a more than a thousand men. Thor only steps back slightly. His large torso a sponge for the lasers, only his tunic is affected, albeit slightly. Strong legs help him push against the force of their attempts, slowly approaching them with hammer held high. Before he can reach them, they are ordered to stop. Thor, however, does not. He raises Mjolnir even further, displaying his monstrous back, and brings the mallet down to the generic metal ground. Beneath the might of both Thor and Odin’s magic it rips like silken cloth to send small tremors towards the men and every other which way. In a pile they fall, shaken and guns obviously powerless.
"He…we are not equipped to deal with his type of creature!" Says another faceless foe. "We need back-up."
"Thou shalt have no such thing." Thor declares and picks up the apparent leader by the material connecting his helmet to his suit. "Dost thou need this bard to live, mortal?" Thor asks into the reflective visor.
"You…I…y-y-…" Stuttering incoherently, Thor handles him even rougher by pulling him closer with both hands.
"I asked thou a question; dost thou survive by this strange garb?"
"Y-yes…"
"Then lead me to thy king, else I rend this armor from thy body."
The agent held above the ground is still and commands his officers. "Get up, men. We are taking him to Harrid."
Each stand and have something of their own to say through static-filled speakers. None of it matters. He has been assigned their squad leader, and that is how it must be.
"But agent…"
"Just do it."
So the small band of protectors, defeated and hearts low, lead the looming god so foreign to them through the halls of humming machinery.
"Harrid…"
"Yes, agent? Has the intruder been apprehended?"
"…Actually, sir, no."
"What? Six patrolmen were sent. That should have been more than enough."
"I know, sir. They reported that….."
"Yes?"
"They reported that he was too strong for al of them. He ordered that they lead him to you."
"So they are coming here now. I must prepare for them. Leave me now, agent. Your job is done.
A suited man leaves a wall of complex techno-patterns to itself, exiting and with him the last bit of organic material from the room. The only screen in the cubic area flicks off for a second, then switches back on to reveal the image of endless space…and a single, fading eye among the cast shadows. Within the eye and this space are the makings of all time and existence…but they are sullen, decayed…weakened.
"Why?" the mechanized voice asks of its own displayed image. "Why have you become sick? For punishment, or for knowledge? All sufer as you do, Eternity. Nothing will last without you."
"This lone dialogue is quickly interrupted by the light stabbing from the open door through the shadows and cold metal within. A single figure, large and confident, leaves a group of shilouettes against the lit wall outside.
"The one called Harrid," Thor says to the entire room, "I have come to thee seeking knowledge and salvation. Thy peons attempted to halt my advances and failed. Wilt thou give me that which I have come for?" The god looks around the room for some sign of life. The closest to it he finds is the robotic response.
"Come and see, Norse god."
And Thor feels a sudden shifting of the floor as the door slams shut behind him.
NEXT: In the Mouth of Eternity
THE HAMMER STRIKES
Finally, my second issue of Thor is here, and it is a bit longer than my first. Maybe I’m a little more comfortable, or maybe I just had more planned for this issue. Either way, I’m very much enjoying this title and all the things that come with it: mythology, cosmic battles, big fights, the noblest and most evil people. But I think there is more to Thor and his cast than that. It is important to me to have dynamics, a quiet piezzo to match the double forte of battle. So that will be my approach to this title: balance. I plan for plenty of action, and at the same time, plenty of thought. Those who are fans of Jimmy O'Brian's run on "Guardians of the Galaxy" here at MV1 may have noticed my use of some of his character names and others of the like. Maybe you will find a link. Hopefully you readers will continue to send letters telling me whether or not you like this approach. I have one letter this time, from Jeff Melton, a fellow Avengers Branch author who writes "The Original Human Torch" and "Captain America".
"Thor #535
By Will Short
First, it's great to see Thor return to the line-up after a long absence. Everyone knows that I'm a big Thor fan, and it's good to be able to read his adventures once again.
Will's writing glides across the page with an almost poetic feel to it. It reads very fast also. I was interested by his decision to more or less tell the story in first person, although this changes from time to time in the actual story, as we go places that Thor isn't.
I must preface this by saying that I'm a little apprehensive about Asgard being in trouble again. It seems that Asgard is always getting trashed in the regular Marvel stories. That, and the diminution of Odin's power, have really driven me up the wall in the past several years.
However, it's clear that Will respects Thor and Odin. He portrayed Odin as graceful and noble, even in his sickness, and that took some doing.
I'm not sure what is causing the illness, but I like the fact that this seems to be leading into a cosmic storyline for Thor. I've always thought Thor worked better in the cosmic storylines, where he could really cut loose with his powers.
I'm curious to see where this will lead. Will's got my attention, and I hope that we'll be seeing the regal Asgard that we know and love at the end of this story arc. I also look forward to seeing Thor and Odin restored to their rightful glory, and I think I'm going to see that with Will at the helm.
An interesting beginning, and I'm looking forward to seeing where all of this leads.
–Jeff"
Thanks a lot Jeff. Praise from such a big Thor fan as you is definitely good for my start on this title and my ego. I can understand your worries for Asgard, but I wanted to start big. Besides, at least it encompasses everything, not just Asgard. I’m very glad I portrayed Odin with the correct respect, because I very much wished to show a noble deity such as him with fatal illness. I hope you keep reading, and that goes for the rest of you. Until next time…
-Will Short
September 22, 2000
11:32 AM