Tyr was dead, his heart had stopped and his body non-responsive.
He saw a glorious gate before him, Tyr was happy he had made Valhall because he knew that this was the dream that all warriors wanted and he was also glad he died so Bjorn's rage could quell.
There was this overwhelming shame that came when he saw his brother that made Tyr realize just what kind of monster he had become, a monster he swore never to become and all it took was a brief near death experience with his little sister and the shameful look in Bjorn's eyes for him to come to this realization.
But here he was, the gates of Valhalla were before him. His life, everything he has done was for this moment.
"I am really dead, huh?" Tyr thought to himself, the absurdity.
He had done so much to avoid this fate yet it came all the same. There was no running from fate as everyone seemed hell-bent on killing him.