Distress

Freya's breath came in ragged gasps, the pain in her abdomen intensified. The jagged blade that had pierced her stomach sent shockwaves of agony through her body and she felt her strength ebbing away each moment. Blood oozed from the wound, quickly cooling in the icy air. Her vision blurred but she forced herself to stay upright.

The cold seemed to seep into her bones, as if the wind itself had come alive. It howled around her, swirling snowflakes into a blinding frenzy. The icy gusts pushed against her, adding to the weight of the pain.

She had been reckless, too focused on the pursuit without seeing what's around her. Now she realized her miscalculation.

"Damn it. Who stabbed me?"

After the thought, dark shape began to emerge from the shadows of the trees ahead, the figure moving slowly as if savoring the moment. Freya's eyes locked onto it, scowling.

The figure was clad in black armor. A dark coat billowed in the wind behind the figure and a mask covered their face, revealing nothing but cold, unfeeling eyes.

She try reaching for her sword but the pain flared in her abdomen, making her movements sluggish and unsteady. She knew she couldn't fight in this condition.

The masked figure continued its approach, stopping a few feet in front of her. He stood still, watching her calmly..

Freya tightened her grip on her sword, raising it slightly despite the pain. Her eyes narrowed as she met the gaze of the figure in black.

The figure finally spoke with mocking tone, "Hello there, Freya. It seems like… You're in trouble."

Freya gritted her teeth. "I won't be brought down so easily," she spat, though the words came out weaker than she intended.

The figure's eyes flickered with something like amusement, but he said nothing more. Instead, he raised their hand and Freya felt a suffocating pressure surrounding her.

The world around her began to blur as the cold gnawed at her relentlessly. Her grip on her sword slackened, the weapon slipping from her fingers and falling into the snow with a muted thud.

Freya's legs gave way and she stumbled backward. The last thing she saw before her vision completely faded was the dark figure standing over her.

Then, everything went black.

Freya's body crumpled into the snow. She was utterly still, her breath faint, her body limp in the growing drifts.

The figure in black, who was none other than Nox, watched her collapse with a cold detachment. He stepped forward. Then with a deliberate motion, Nox bent down and carefully scooped Freya's limp body into his arms. Despite the jagged blade still lodged in her abdomen, he lifted her effortlessly.

Then, Nox began to move. His form then melding seamlessly with the shadows cast by the blizzard. The storm seemed to swallow them whole.

Nox and Freya melted into the shadow of the blizzard, their figures fading from sight as if they had never been there. The snow continued to fall, erasing any trace of their presence, leaving the forest in a cold silence.

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The battle in Jotunheim raged on and it echoed through the frozen landscape. The air was thick with the scent of frost and blood as Thor, Odin, and the Asgardian warriors fought against the monstrous creatures that had swarmed them.

The beasts' forms were twisted and corrupted by the dark magic that influencing the realm. Each strike from Thor's hammer sent shockwaves that shattering ice and bone.

Beside him, Odin wielded Gungnir with a masterful precision. The Allfather's presence on the battlefield was a beacon of strength. The Asgardian warriors pressed on with fierce resolve.

This creatures that now inhabited Jotunheim were unyielding, though.

"HAAAAAA!!!" Thor scream while unleashing a lance of thunder toward the advancing horde.

The thunder god focus was solely on the battle before him. But then, a surge of energy pulsed through his body, causing him to falter for a split second. His eyes widened as he recognized the sensation—a magical message, a distress signal.

Freya.

The realization hit him like a bolt of lightning – ironically. The distress message was something they had all agreed upon, a safeguard in case any of them found themselves in danger.

Thor's heart pounded in his chest. Freya was in trouble—no, more than that, she could be in grave danger.

He gritted his teeth, his grip on Mjölnir tightening as he struck down another beast with a roar of fury. Then, Thor cast a quick glance toward Odin who was locked in combat with a massive frost giant, and shouted over the din of battle.

"Father! Freya—she's in danger!"

Odin's gaze snapped to Thor, his expression hardening as he caught his son's voice. Without a moment's hesitation, Odin thrust Gungnir into the chest of the frost giant before him, the spear glowing with a brilliant light as it pierced through the creature's heart.

"Go now!" Odin said. "I will take care of the situation here."

The creatures were many but the they had the upper hand. The tide of battle was turning in their favor.

Thor hesitated for a moment, his eyes scanning the battlefield. The monsters were fierce but they were not insurmountable. He can see victory was within reach. But he still wasn't sure.

"Are you sure?" Thor asked.

Odin nodded firmly. "Yes. These creatures are no match for us. Go!"

Thor studied his father's face. If Odin believed he could handle the situation then Thor had no reason to doubt him.

"As you command, Father," Thor said.

He raised Mjölnir and called upon the Bifrost. The sky above them cracked open with rainbow light. Thor took one last glance at the battlefield, then stepped into the light of the Bifrost and was gone.

The moment Thor vanished, behind a distant mountain and hidden in the deep shadows cast by the storm, a pair of eyes glinted with fierce light.

Thor was gone, leaving Odin and the warriors to fend off the monstrous horde alone.

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