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2: Marvel's Green Lantern, Prince of Asgard
🕑 Added 2025-04-26 10:02:31 +0000 UTC“Green Lantern, eh? Never heard of you,” Odin said, eyeing Max from head to toe, a curious glint in his eye.
Max suddenly found himself scrambling for words, panic flickering across his face. Without thinking, he blurted out, “You haven’t really? I’m the Green Lantern—protector of the universe, born of the Emotional Spectrum!”
Odin cocked an eyebrow. “The emotional what now?”
Max stood there awkwardly, silently cursing himself for blurting things out. He shifted his weight and tried to recover some dignity. “The universe is a big place,” he said with a shrug. “You can’t know everything, Prince of Asgard.”
Odin laughed, a booming, genuine sound. “I suppose you are right. I am but forty winters old—I still have much to learn.”
Max let out a slow breath of relief, his shoulders relaxing slightly.
Forty? he thought, surprised. Is that forty in human years or Asgardian? Whatever it means, Odin is younger than I imagined. How far back in time am I?
Odin’s gaze dropped to Max’s hand, narrowing in interest at the glowing green ring.
“What seidr is that, Lantern?” he asked, stepping closer, half-curious and half-hungry—for knowledge, for power. “Tell me… can others wield it?”
Max hesitated. Careful, he reminded himself. This is Odin. Whether Marvel’s version or the old myths, he’s still dangerous. Friendly now, but that could change if he senses weakness—or opportunity. Carefully, he smiled. “It’s a secret.”
Odin threw back his head and laughed heartily. “I hope it is only a temporary one! Perhaps one day you will teach me this seidr.”
“Maybe,” Max said—cautious but polite.
Changing the subject, Max glanced toward the scorched battlefield. “What were those things we fought? Are they native to this planet?”
The cheer drained from Odin’s face, replaced by grim anger. His fists clenched at his sides.
“Nay,” he said, voice heavy. “They are the spawn of Surtur, the fire demon of Muspelheim. He has begun to invade other realms, sending his beasts ahead to sow ruin.”
A chill crept down Max’s spine. “Surtur,” he muttered.
Odin caught the name on his lips. “Aye. Have you heard of him, Lantern?”
Max nodded slowly. “Yes. I’ve heard of him.”
Odin’s gaze darkened. “Then you know how dangerous he is. Surtur wields the Eternal Flame—an ancient and terrible force—and is prophesied to bring Ragnarök, the end of Asgard and perhaps much more.”
His voice grew heavier, tinged with bitterness. “My father, Bor, is too cowardly to act. He would rather wait for Surtur to attack. So I have left to end the demon myself.”
So he’s just like his son, Max thought as his eyes drifted to the hammer in Odin’s hand. It gleamed under the twin suns, runes faintly glowing along its surface.
Odin noticed immediately, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Quite a beauty, isn’t she, Lantern?” he said, lifting the hammer slightly.
Max nodded. “Yeah… an impressive weapon.”
Odin twirled it effortlessly. “Mjolnir,” he said proudly. “Forged by the dwarves of Nidavellir in the heart of a dying star. All uru—one of the mightiest metals in all the realms.”
Max couldn’t help himself. “Can I… can I hold it?” he asked, half-joking, half-hopeful. He wanted to see if he was worthy.
Odin laughed—a deep, confident sound—and, without hesitation, tossed the hammer toward Max.
Max’s brain barely caught up. Wait, WHAT? he thought as the weapon flew through the air.
He reached out instinctively—and caught it.
To his utter shock, he held Mjolnir, the heavy weapon humming faintly in his hands.
The enchantment! he realized. The worthiness spell hasn’t been placed on it yet.
Max grinned wide. This was insane.
He raised the hammer skyward, trying to summon lightning as he had seen Thor do a thousand times.
Nothing happened.
He furrowed his brow, gritting his teeth, willing the sky to crack with thunder. Still nothing—no sparks, no rumble, not even a whiff of static.
Odin let out another booming laugh.
“You’ll need much practice, Lantern—and a deep knowledge of Asgardian seidr—to summon the storm.”
Max chuckled sheepishly and handed Mjolnir back to him. Odin caught the hammer easily, spinning it before resting it in his palm. His face grew serious again, the glint of a warrior returning to his eyes.
“I seek to march on Muspelheim,” Odin said, voice low but burning with determination. “To seize the Eternal Flame—to cut down Surtur before his fire devours the roots of Yggdrasil itself.”
He stepped closer, eyes locking with Max’s.
“You are mighty, Lantern. Will you aid me? With our combined strength, Surtur will not stand a chance.”
Max hesitated only a moment. This Odin the prince of Asgard, he thought.
He could help him. Besides, what better plan did he have? If he aided Odin, maybe he could earn a place in Asgard, learn more about the universe—perhaps even find a way back to Earth. Jade could study Asgardian magic and map the cosmos from their knowledge. And honestly? Fighting alongside Odin against Surtur sounded like the most metal thing imaginable.
He stood tall and gave a short bow.
“Well, Prince Odin, I am the protector of the universe, after all. I shall join your quest to defeat the vile demon Surtur.”
Odin let out a victorious shout and stepped forward, wrapping Max in a crushing hug.
“Ha! Then call me Odin, my friend! None of this ‘prince’ nonsense. We are battle-brothers now!”
Max released a strained breath when Odin finally let go, flexing his arms. Damn, he thought, shaking out his shoulders, the Aesir are strong as hell.
“So… how exactly are we getting to Muspelheim?”
Odin scratched his beard thoughtfully. “I have hunted for Muspelheim for a year. Surtur hides it well—no one truly knows its location. He cloaks it in flame and smoke, veiling it from all but the most persistent seekers.”
He sighed, resting a hand on Mjolnir’s head. “I have been traveling the ancient gateways—paths between realms—following the demons’ trail, hoping it would lead me to their fiery stronghold.”
Max blinked. “Wait—ancient gateways? I thought Asgard had the Bifrost,” he said without thinking.
Odin squinted, puzzled. “The what-frost?”
Max froze; he had slipped. He coughed, waving a hand as though it were nothing. “Uh—nothing! I mean… the Bifrost—you know, like a bridge, a cosmic path that lets you travel across realms instantly.”
Odin stroked his beard again, intrigued. “A bridge that walks the stars… Such a craft would be a boon to Asgard indeed.”
Max smiled awkwardly.
“Well,” he said, clearing his throat, “I can fly us to Muspelheim—if you can discover its exact location.”
Odin’s eyes lit with excitement. “How fast can you fly?”
Before Max could answer, Jade’s voice chimed in—crisp and simple:
“Fast.”
Odin’s eyes widened slightly, then he chuckled, a deep hearty sound full of wonder. “You carry an oracle within your seidr ring?”
Max smirked. “Something like that.”
“I know not the precise path to Muspelheim,” Odin admitted, frustration edging his tone. “As I said, Surtur hides it well. But…” A sly grin tugged at his lips. “I know someone who surely will.”
“My uncle,” Odin said, his voice dropping into a tone of reverence. “Mimir the All-Knowing.”
He began to pace, gesturing with Mjolnir as he spoke. “My father, Bor, had two brothers—Mimir and Njord. Njord rules Vanaheim now. If we are to find Mimir, we must go there first.”
Max frowned. “Why didn’t you ask Mimir before?”
Odin snorted—a humorless sound. “We are not on good terms. My father seized the throne after defeating my grandfather, Buri. Many in the family… disagreed with how it was done. Mimir has kept his distance since.”
Great, Max thought. More family drama—runs in the bloodline.
“Well then,” he said with a shrug, “to Vanaheim it is.”
With a thought, he summoned the power of his ring. Emerald light flared around his hand, and a massive construct took shape beside them—a grand Viking long-ship with a dragon-headed prow and billowing sail, all shimmering translucent green.
Wonder filled Odin’s eyes as he stepped aboard, running a hand over the glowing rail. “By the Norns,” he murmured. “It’s nearly identical to the long-ships of Asgard! You are full of wonders, Grænlaðr.”
“Grænlaðr?” Max echoed.
Odin grinned. “It means ‘One Cloaked in Emerald.’ A fitting name, don’t you think?”
Max returned the smile. “I like it.”
He stepped aboard and focused; the emerald vessel lifted higher into the sky, rising above the scorched wasteland. Odin relayed the destination to Jade, who took a moment to lock onto the planet.
“Location charted,” Jade said calmly. “Course plotted to Vanaheim.”
Max nodded and turned to Odin. “Hold on.”
Odin simply widened his stance, grinning like a boy about to ride a storm.
Max willed the ship forward. It answered at once—glowing brighter as it surged ahead. The air thinned; the sky blurred into blue-and-violet streaks; stars bent like rivers of light.
The construct didn’t just fly—it punched through reality, leaving a trail of emerald fire in its wake.
Odin threw back his head and roared with pure joy, his voice booming over the rush of warped space. “Ha! Truly we ride the winds of the cosmos now, Grænlaðr!”
Max laughed, gripping the rail as they hurtled toward Vanaheim.
Comments
Josh Muggs
Oh typed the wrong chapter 😂😂😂😂🤦♂️🤦♂️
Tyler Karp
Thank you for the chapter
