In the dimly lit corridors of the ancient realms of Asgard, a deeply ominous shadow loomed, its edges barely discernible against the ethereal glow of the runes that adorned the walls. A prophecy was about to be fulfilled, a destiny long foretold, and Loki, the god of mischief and trickery, couldn't help but feel the cold grasp of fate around his shoulders.

His cunning eyes glinted in the dim light, reflecting the intricate patterns of Asgardian gold and crystal that surrounded him. The echoes of his laughter seemed to resonate through the corridor, a stark contrast to the heavy silence that
A man in armor standing in a hallway with a sword