At the control center of the Bifrost Bridge, beneath a magnificent golden dome…
Heimdall, clad in golden armor and holding the Hofund, stood at his post like an eternal statue.
His golden eyes, said to see through the Nine Realms, were now distracted—reflecting lingering sorrow and confusion.
Once again, his gaze fell upon Midgard (Earth), where he witnessed an irreversible tragedy.
A small girl, trying to retrieve a ball rolling in the middle of the road, was about to be struck by a runaway truck.
When Heimdall "saw" it, the truck was already too close. Everything was set.
He saw the mother's heart-rending scream, the panic and helplessness of bystanders, the young flower of life withering in an instant.
And he—guardian of Asgard, claiming to watch over the Nine Realms—could only do one thing…
Watch it happen.
Powerless.
It wasn't the first time.
His eyes had seen threats and disasters across all worlds.
He saw interstellar pirates raiding caravans.
He saw volcanoes erupt on distant planets.
He saw cosmic storms swallowing civilizations.
But he always saw the "result," always saw things when they were already "happening."
When he saw them, it was often too late to stop them.
Like the highest, most all-seeing "live broadcast viewer," he could watch every tragedy unfold—but couldn't press pause, much less go back and change the cause.
Day after day. Year after year.
This helplessness, like a dull knife, slowly wore down his will.
He began to question the meaning of thousands of years of "watching."
If all he could do was watch tragedies happen… what was the difference between "seeing" and "not seeing"?
Just as Heimdall sank into deep self-doubt, heavy footsteps sounded behind him.
Thor and the Warriors Three approached.
"Hey! Heimdall!" Thor's loud voice cut through Heimdall's thoughts. "Are you alright?"
Heimdall came back to himself and looked at the four battle-ready figures. A hint of doubt appeared on his ancient face.
"Prince Thor… where are you going?"
"Jotunheim!" Thor answered proudly.
Heimdall frowned slightly, but when he saw the true Mjolnir in Thor's hand, much of his worry faded.
Even so, he couldn't help warning them. "Your Highness, it is not wise to start a private war."
"Don't worry," Thor said with a grin. "We're just going to 'beat up some long-eyed giants' and protect the peace of the Nine Realms!"
Then he noticed the gloom still on Heimdall's face.
"What's wrong, Heimdall? You look distracted."
Heimdall fell silent for a moment, sighed quietly, and briefly described what he'd seen in Midgard and the turmoil in his heart.
"…I don't understand. What is the meaning of watching like this?"
The Warriors Three showed sympathy and understanding. They knew Heimdall carried pressures no ordinary person could imagine.
But Thor's reaction was not what anyone expected.
He simply shrugged, displeased.
"I thought it was something serious," Thor said casually. "If you've got time to brood here, why don't you ask Lucci?"
"…Ask him?" Heimdall and the three warriors froze.
They all turned at once, staring at Thor with expressions of shock, disbelief, and sheer weirdness.
Lucci?
That Fourth Prince of Asgard?
Ask him?
Those words… came from Thor's mouth?
In their impression, Thor had always been reckless and arrogant—convinced by no one but Odin.
But now he was actually… praising Lucci?
And he was even suggesting that Heimdall—the most knowledgeable guardian in the Nine Realms—seek advice from Lucci.
Was the sun rising in the west?
"Thor… you're not feverish, are you?" Fandral couldn't help reaching out, wanting to touch Thor's forehead.
"Get lost, get lost," Thor swatted his hand away. "What do you know?"
"Lucci… his wisdom is beyond imagination. This question should be easy for him."
The three warriors' mouths fell open even wider.
This question?
Easy?
You've got to be joking.
Even Heimdall's eyes flashed with surprise.
He knew Lucci was somewhat special, but he never imagined Lucci could turn arrogant Thor into a big-brother fanboy in such a short time.
"Alright, alright." Thor waved his hand. "Before you go find Lucci—can you open the passage to Jotunheim for us?"
"I don't want to wait here too long."
Heimdall stared at Thor, then at Mjolnir. Feeling that unprecedented condensed aura, he finally nodded.
"As you command, Your Highness."
He thrust the Hofund into the console and murmured an ancient incantation.
Rumble—
The Bifrost's energy core began to run at high speed. A torrent of colorful energy surged into the sky, tearing open a colossal cosmic vortex in the void.
"Let's go!" Thor roared, leading the charge with the Warriors Three into the passage to Jotunheim.
Heimdall watched their figures vanish into the vortex and then closed the bridge.
He turned and looked across the palace, toward the quiet courtyard where Lucci was.
Thor's words had caused a great ripple in his heart.
If Thor could be convinced…
Could Lucci really… resolve the doubt that had tormented him for thousands of years?
A strong curiosity—and a faint hope—quietly took root in Heimdall's heart.
Once he was sure Thor's party was safe, he decided he would personally visit…
The Fourth Prince.
…