The air of Asgard was invigorating. Daisy's post-battle exhaustion eased the moment she drew her first breath, the fatigue loosening its grip just enough to be noticeable. The sunlight here was more abundant than Earth's, yet the realm wasn't hot. Warm, gentle rays soaked into her skin, leaving her feeling pleasantly warm.
From the air, Asgard was breathtaking. This wasn't a planet—it was a realm shaped by the ancient principle of round sky and square earth.
A cerulean sea dominated two-thirds of her field of vision. Islands dotted its surface like scattered jewels, connected by bridges that gleamed with a technological sheen she hadn't expected, all converging on the largest island at the center.
Every building in sight was gilded and magnificent, yet somehow it didn't feel gaudy. A pervasive culture of martial valor lent the whole place a weight, a gravity that made the gold feel less like opulence and more like war banners. Solemn, sharp, ready.
The main island was classic Nordic architecture on a grand scale. Structures radiated outward from the royal palace, which from a distance looked like a mountain range—its central spire a blade thrust straight into the clouds, the surrounding buildings packed tight and immaculately planned.
But the world that was usually full of laughter and celebration felt tense today. The elderly and children peered skyward from doorways and balconies, hoping for victory, hoping their loved ones would come home safe.
Nine infantry phalanxes stood in formation on an open field connecting the main island to the outer bridges. They waited at the ready, spears and shields in hand, clad in gleaming golden armor. From Daisy's vantage point, these soldiers were physically superior to any human in every measurable way. And contrary to the stereotype of Norse barbarians, their formations were impeccable, their discipline razor-sharp, their chain of command ruthlessly efficient. No wonder they'd conquered the Nine Realms.
Daisy's own armor, sword, and shield had all been destroyed. The Adamantium set had started cracking during the fight against Shou-Lao, and the battle with Skadi in those extreme sub-zero conditions had finally finished them off. She was down to her S.H.I.E.L.D.-issue black Kevlar suit. Whether it offered any real protection was debatable, but at least it beat wearing shattered armor.
Her slow descent attracted almost no attention. Or rather, it attracted exactly two people's attention—Loki, and Frigga, who noticed the flicker of unease on Loki's face.
The rest of the warriors were in full celebration mode, welcoming their commander home. Thor's booming laughter rang out as he offered his broad chest to a volley of congratulatory punches.
Seeing that nobody was paying her any mind, Daisy walked over to Loki.
"What are you doing here? This is Asgard's war." Loki held Gungnir upright, eyes fixed straight ahead, addressing the air in front of him as if she didn't exist.
Daisy scoffed. The man was rattled—she could tell. His mouth was doing overtime to compensate. The moment Thor had appeared, Loki's jaw had loosened by a fraction. Just a tiny, involuntary release of tension.
"I'm here to avenge Auntie Skadi," she said, stating her reason with perfect composure. Loki didn't buy a single word. Neither did Frigga, standing behind him.
Avenging Skadi? Out of nowhere? Who would believe that?
Loki's eyes slid sideways. He took in her empty hands. "You don't even have a weapon?"
Of course she didn't. Asgard was a realm of boundless resources—rulers of the Nine Realms, their Asgardian metal boasting immeasurable defensive properties. She'd been planning to help herself to a set of Asgardian gear on the way out. But that was the kind of thing you could do without saying out loud. Everything depended on their sincerity...
Frigga looked her up and down. Daisy didn't recognize her at first. She ran through her mental catalogue and finally placed the woman—Thor's mother. Loki's adoptive mother.
Was Frigga sizing up her measurements? Getting ready to offer her a set of equipment? Daisy unconsciously straightened her posture by two degrees.
The more Frigga looked, the more curious she became. She didn't know about the Eternals—that was information reserved for the All-Father alone.
She'd assumed Midgardians lived less than a century, but the woman before her defied that assumption entirely. Judging by her life force, this young woman could easily live several more centuries.
"Has the lifespan of Midgardians grown so long?" Frigga asked Loki quietly.
"She's a cut above ordinary humans. As for her lifespan, I can't tell." Loki estimated that he and Daisy were roughly comparable. On Asgard he'd have the edge; on Earth he'd probably lose. Their combat power was close enough that a slight environmental shift could decide the outcome.
Loki was under enormous pressure right now and didn't spare much thought for Frigga's question—just gave a perfunctory answer.
Frigga studied her son. Something was off. The Loki she knew was a silver-tongued virtuoso who could talk a stranger's ear off for twenty minutes without breaking a sweat. This clipped, minimal speech was highly unusual.
She glanced back at Daisy, who wore an equally studied expression of indifference. You come all the way to Asgard wearing that couldn't-care-less face and expect me to believe you're here on a whim? Frigga felt she understood exactly what was going on.
"Quite strong indeed... Come, child. Asgard never short-changes friends who come to help. Let me find you some armor." Frigga took Daisy by the arm and headed toward the palace.
Hearing exactly the words she'd been hoping for, a certain someone was overjoyed. She made a perfunctory show of declining, then followed Frigga inside without a shred of resistance.
Frigga gestured for Daisy to wait in a side hall and disappeared into the inner chambers. She returned shortly, carrying a suit of armor and a longsword.
"My lady, this is..." Daisy's jaw nearly hit the floor. She'd been hoping for something slightly better than average. She hadn't expected Frigga to emerge wearing a different robe. The queen had taken off her own armor.
"I can sense the hearts of others. You're a good child—you bear Asgard no ill will. You've come here burning with genuine passion to fight." Frigga's voice was warm and gentle as she held out the armor. "This set is called Fensalir. Take it. You need it more than I do."
Daisy didn't dare accept. "And you are...?"
Frigga's smile turned playful. "I'm Loki's mother."
Daisy was completely lost. She had no idea what that smile meant. But she knew her own heart. She genuinely wanted to kill the World Serpent—it had nothing to do with Earth or Asgard. Her motive was pure and simple: payback for Skadi.
"Then I'll accept with gratitude. I won't dishonor this armor." She was talking about the armor, but Frigga automatically interpreted it as something else entirely...
They were similar in height and build. The armor slid on without a hitch.
The set was unmistakably designed for a woman—a golden breastplate and pauldrons, with two prominent bumps over the chest. Below, a silver battle-skirt and war boots completed the ensemble.
Unlike Adamantium, the armor had excellent chi conductivity. Her fiery chi could now flow freely and be channeled at will. She could infuse the war boots with chi, using its properties to accelerate, fly, stomp, and augment strikes at the knees and elbows.
Daisy rolled her shoulders. Inside her body, chi traced a circuit between her heart and eyes before flowing through her entire body. The quality and quantity hadn't changed, but her circulation speed had jumped by thirty percent.
When she tested her gravity manipulation, she discovered the armor also amplified her personal magnetic field, which would indirectly boost her flight speed.
Daisy estimated she could now comfortably break the sound barrier, and at full acceleration, push to Mach 2.