Jormungand

The night was ablaze with the full moon, casting its radiant glow upon the land. A gentle breeze whispered through the trees, carrying an aura of mystery and anticipation. Fenrir, the mighty wolf of the apocalypse, stood at the edge of his realm, his piercing eyes fixed upon the dark glowing blue sky. He knew what was about to unfold, for the celestial spectacle heralded the arrival of an otherworldly presence.

Fenrir's fur bristled with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. As he gazed into the ethereal light, he could feel a powerful energy stirring, reaching out to him from the heavens above. His instincts, honed over countless centuries, told him that a significant event was about to unfold—a meeting that would shape the destiny of his realm.