The Asgardian Divine Domain lay before Lin Fan, as silent and lifeless as the Dead Realm itself.
His eyes narrowed with contemplation.
As the cradle of the Aesir Protoss' existence for millions of years, Asgard's significance was irreplaceable. Even in the face of catastrophe, the Aesirs would never abandon their homeland—unless extinction itself loomed.
In the Marvel universe's known history, Asgard's destruction came only with Hela's return and Surtr's apocalyptic flames, heralding Ragnarok. Yet here, the golden spires stood pristine, untouched by fire or war.
This wasn't Ragnarok.
Had Odin foreseen this moment? Had the Allfather orchestrated an exodus?
"The Old man has the power stone right?....
He should at least put up a fight"
Lin Fan mused
Beside Lin Fan, Ebony Maw scoffed, his voice dripping with sycophantic glee. "It seems Odin feared Your Highness's might. He fled like a coward, leaving even his throne behind!"
Lin Fan ignored the flattery. With a mental command, a Psionic clone materialized beside him—a shimmering duplicate wrought from the Mind Stone's power. "Search the palace," he ordered. "Leave no vault unopened."
Ebony Maw and Supergiant led their warriors through the hollow halls, but the treasures of Asgard were gone. The vaults yawned empty, stripped bare. Not a single artifact, not even a coin, remained.
Odin had planned this well.
Yet Lin Fan's lips curled. "The treasury is dust, but he couldn't have taken everything."
His gaze slid toward the Observatory, where the Rainbow Bridge—Asgard's conduit to the Nine Realms—had once thrummed with energy. The sword key and it's guardian gone