Urged on by Loki, Thor strode confidently to the head of the Bifrost.
Heimdall stood there in full golden armor, vigilant as ever. For once, he had not wandered off to drag some unfortunate bald beast and its family into another round of employment.
He guarded the bridge with the discipline of a true sentinel.
Seeing Thor and Loki approach, Heimdall's expression remained calm, but inwardly, he sighed endlessly.
Odin… your own son is far too honest.
And your adopted son knows exactly how to use that.
"Your Highnesses," Heimdall said formally. "May I ask your purpose?"
"Loki and I are going to Midgard to see that orange cat." Thor answered without hesitation.
The… orange cat.
Heimdall's gaze sharpened almost imperceptibly.
He knew of this being. The Ancient One's apprentice. A mage who had twice traveled to Norway to meet Odin himself.
An entity with undeniable influence in Midgard and far more significance than his appearance suggested.
"Your Highness," Heimdall said carefully, "By order of the God King, Asgardians are not permitted to enter Midgard at will."
Loki stepped forward smoothly.
"We are not acting without cause." He said mildly. "Mother informed Thor that the Third Prince of Asgard is currently in Midgard."
He spread his hands innocently.
"We are simply going ahead to see him. After all, he is our brother, is he not?"
Thor nodded vigorously. "Exactly. Let's go meet our brother."
Thor.
Loki just threw everything straight at your face, and you still nodded.
Even Heimdall's patience faltered.
His expression darkened slightly as he looked at Thor's earnest, empty-eyed enthusiasm. But Heimdall was a guardian, not a judge.
He had sworn loyalty to the House of Odinson.
And if the princes wished to visit the future Third Prince of Asgard…
He had no authority to stop them.
He stepped onto the control dais, raised the guardian sword, and activated the Rainbow Bridge.
"The Orange Cat Prince," Heimdall said solemnly, "is… a unique existence."
He glanced at them both. "Please be mindful of your words, Your Highnesses."
The mechanism roared to life.
Seven colors of brilliance enveloped Thor and Loki, and in an instant, they vanished from the head of the Bifrost.
Moments after their departure, a presence emerged quietly behind Heimdall.
Odin stood at the entrance to the control chamber, his single eye calm and unfathomable.
"They have gone?" Odin asked.
"Yes," Heimdall replied. "Prince Thor and Prince Loki."
Odin nodded in satisfaction. Everything was proceeding exactly as calculated.
He hoped the first meeting between his sons and that orange anomaly would unfold smoothly.
"Watch them closely." Odin said. "If anything unusual occurs, inform me at once."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Odin turned and departed.
Heimdall straightened his back, eyes fixed far away, watching Thor and Loki descend toward Earth.
✦••┈┈••✦••┈┈••✦
After leaving Norway, Garfield returned home from Kamar-Taj with Midnight and Pandora, who had been temporarily stranded there.
When Queenie woke up and saw an unfamiliar little black cat in the house, her expression became… complicated.
She stared for a long moment.
"Garfield… is this your child?" Then she asked carefully,
"Why isn't it orange?"
"…"
"…"
Garfield and Midnight both sprayed the water in their mouths.
"Ahem, cough, Queenie, don't talk nonsense." Garfield said hurriedly. "This is Midnight."
"The avatar of the Black Panther Goddess." He gestured solemnly.
"…What?" Queenie blinked.
"Does the Black Panther Goddess… have offspring?"
Garfield rubbed his forehead. "No. She's a ancient wild goddess."
Queenie's eyes widened. "There are gods in this world?"
Midnight bristled immediately. She lifted her head, stared directly at Queenie, and spoke with visible displeasure.
"Why can't there be gods?" She said coldly. "Aren't wizards like you already things that shouldn't exist in the eyes of ordinary people?"
Queenie mulled over Midnight's words and found, to her surprise, that they made an uncomfortable amount of sense.
To ordinary people, wizards themselves belonged to the realm of myth and fairy tale; if that was the case, then the existence of a goddess's incarnation was hardly more implausible.
"Merlin," She muttered with a wry smile, rubbing her temples, "I must still be half-asleep. I'd better go back to bed and try waking up again."
The joke eased the tension in her chest, and her expression visibly relaxed.
Garfield, however, did not take the situation lightly. He began guiding Queenie through a careful session of spiritual counseling.
The goal was not merely reassurance, but cognitive stabilization, subtly correcting her subconscious so she would not retreat into denial or convince herself that Garfield, Midnight, and the others were nothing more than hallucinations.
After a period of quiet guidance and layered mental cues, Queenie's reactions gradually returned to normal.
Determined to welcome Garfield properly, she asked Baima to pick up Vivienne, then contacted the restaurant affiliated with the High Claw Group to have a selection of ingredients delivered.
That evening, Queenie cooked personally.
The dinner she prepared was a fusion of worlds… rare ingredients from the wizarding community paired with delicacies sourced from ordinary human society.
It was a small but telling display of what the High Claw built over seven years by Queenie, Howard, and their allies had grown into.
With a flick of her wand, ingredients floated into the air.
Fruit knives and kitchen blades aligned themselves, peeling, slicing, and cleaning in flawless coordination. The kitchen hummed with controlled magic.
During a brief lull, Queenie voiced a lingering concern.
"When I was expanding the High Claw," She said, "Someone approached me claiming they were also part of 'High Claw.' They even asked which branch we belonged to."
Garfield's eyes narrowed slightly.
Another High Claw.
Not the metaphorical kind, but the kind that operated like a many-headed beast, an octopus organization with tendrils everywhere.
An entity that thrived on infiltration, secrecy, and parasitism.
Hydra.
Of course, that name belonged to television dramatizations and comic-book exaggerations.
In this world, the distinction mattered. Based on the Ancient One's existence, very much the cinematic version rather than the comic one, this reality followed the film timeline.
Which meant the Hive was not yet on Earth.
The Hive here was the ancient Maya leader captured by the Kree, altered through Terrigen crystal experiments, and molded into a control mechanism for the Inhumans.
At present was stranded on a distant planet, kept alive only through intermittent support covertly supplied by Hydra. Was not yet relevant.
Hydra, however, was.
They were everywhere, embedded within governments, institutions, and intelligence agencies.
If not for certain aggressive powers manipulating global conflict behind the scenes, some nations would never have entered the last great war at all.
Hydra had always been skilled at manufacturing chaos for profit, power, and technological advancement.
As for the Hive itself, Garfield had long questioned the Kree's logic. They possessed planet-destroying technology, why not simply erase the world that held him?
The answer was obvious… observation.
The Kree wanted to see what the Hive could become.
Garfield's thoughts returned to the Hydra agents who had approached Queenie. To him, this was not a threat, it was an opportunity.
Hydra survived by parasitizing organizations like S.H.I.E.L.D., feeding on resources until they evolved into something greater.
There was no reason High Claw could not do the same. He looked at Queenie and spoke calmly, decisively.
"Queenie." Garfield said. "This is how you deal with them…"
꧁𓊈𒆜༺⚜༻𒆜𓊉꧂
PhantomDream