Chapter 9

The golden spires of Asgard still bore the scars of battle. Frost lingered in shadowed corners where Jotun warriors had breached the city's defenses, their desperate attacks leaving marks that would take time to heal. In the days following Loki's disappearance, Thor often found himself standing at the shattered edge of the Rainbow Bridge, watching the endless cosmos beyond while contemplating the visions that haunted him.

Heimdall, though recovering, remained weakened from the wounds inflicted during the Jotun assault. The great guardian had returned to his post despite his injuries, his golden eyes ever vigilant even without the Bifrost to command. The loss of their primary means of realm-travel weighed heavily on all of Asgard, but none felt it more keenly than Thor, who knew what threats loomed on the horizon.

Odin had sent his ravens, Huginn and Muninn, to Earth carrying messages for the Son of Coul, explaining the destruction of the Bifrost and warning of potential threats. But such limited communication felt woefully inadequate given what Thor knew was coming. The attack on New York was still unclear, since Loki's possible alliance with Thanos might not happen with Loki's disappearance after his attack.

As Thor watched repair crews working to restore damaged sections of the palace, his mind drifted to that strange vision of himself, a red-haired, overweight version who had somehow possessed strength that surpassed his own. The very thought rankled his pride, spurring him to action. He would not allow himself to be outmatched by any version of Thor, from any reality.

With renewed purpose, Thor sought out Sif and the Warriors Three, and together they devised a training regimen that would push him beyond his previous limits. He arranged sparring sessions against entire squadrons of Einherjar, determined to face overwhelming odds until such battles became mundane. His friends might lack his godly abilities, but their centuries of combat experience would help forge him into something stronger.

Yet before he could begin this physical training, Thor knew he needed to master a different kind of power. The time had come to learn the secrets of the runes from the Allfather himself. This ancient knowledge, combined with his mastery of storms, might give him the edge he needed against the challenges that lay ahead.

And so Thor found himself entering Asgard's vast library, where Odin awaited to begin his instruction in the Runic arts…

The room was surrounded by towering shelves filled with tomes and scrolls. The scent of ancient parchment filled the air, mingling with the sharp tang of residual energy that seemed to emanate from certain volumes. His father sat across from him at a massive table, several texts laid open between them.

"The runes," Odin began, his voice carrying the weight of millennia, "are not mere symbols to be carved in stone. Each is a living force, a key that unlocks specific aspects of reality itself." He traced his finger over an ancient page, where the runes were drawn with meticulous precision. "When I hung from Yggdrasil for nine days and nights, wounded by my own spear, I gained knowledge of all twenty-four. Each revealed itself not as a simple mark, but as a fundamental power that shapes the Nine Realms."

Thor studied the symbols intently, recognizing some from the markings he'd seen throughout his childhood in Asgard. "And you shared these with the mortals of Midgard?"

A slight smile crossed Odin's face. "I gave them the basic forms, yes. The understanding of how to draw them, how to arrange them in simple combinations. I thought they would use them merely as tools for protection and basic enchantments." His eye gleamed with remembered surprise. "But what they did with that knowledge... that exceeded all expectations."

"The mortals creativity proved remarkable," Odin continued, turning a page in the book. "Some wove runes into poetry that carried real power. Others created protective circles that could shield entire forests. Their brief lives drove them to push boundaries, to experiment boldly where we might spend ages in mere contemplation."

Thor leaned forward, his interest piqued. "So when you say I must learn as mortals do..."

"I mean you must understand their perspectives, their innovations, their ways of thinking," Odin finished. "The knowledge the runes provide depends entirely on what we have lived through, what experiences shape us. No rune grants the same powers to everyone who masters it. Instead, they bestow abilities that reflect the fundamental nature of the wielder."

Odin fixed Thor with his piercing gaze, his single eye seeming to peer into the depths of his son's soul. "In all the ages since I first learned of them, I have achieved true mastery over only five runes. Such is the price of embodying these primal forces."

"Only five?" Thor asked, astonishment coloring his tone. "But you are the Allfather, king of-"

"And that is precisely why," Odin interjected, his voice brooking no argument, "I comprehend so deeply the burden of this power. For gods, each rune mastered reshapes us, but also sets us further apart from who we were earlier."

Thor fell silent, contemplating the weight of his father's words. "Which five did you choose, father? What powers did they grant you?"

Odin's gaze grew distant. "Ansuz, the sovereign's voice, grants me wisdom and the ability to guide with divine authority. Through Raidho, I maintain the cosmic order of the Nine Realms. Dagaz allowed me to transform from a king of conquest to a guardian of peace." He paused, his eye focusing intently on Thor. "To make a clearer example of how Rune can manifest differently take, Kenaz, the rune of insight, for me it illuminates the hidden truths of the others, granting me clarity of perception. But for Heimdall, it allows him to see and hear across the vastness of space and time. For me, it burns away deception and illusion, revealing the true nature of all things." "And finally, Algiz..." His voice grew heavier. "The rune grants glimpses of possible futures, though such visions are often fragmented and cryptic. It is this burden that you and I now share, even if you have not yet mastered any runes."

Odin leaned forward, his visage stern. "But before you can dream of the heights of mastery, you must learn the basics. Every stroke, every ratio, every law that binds their intricate workings. Wisdom must walk before power, always."

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Thor stared at the ancient texts before him. The runes seemed to dance across the pages, refusing to stay still under his gaze. He had always been a warrior of action, more comfortable with Mjölnir in his hand than a book. Yet here he sat, day after day, struggling to memorize the intricate patterns that held such fundamental power.

"Focus, my son," Odin's voice cut through his wandering thoughts. Thor realized he had been absently spinning a small thunder charge between his fingers, a habit that seemed to emerge whenever his mind drifted from the task at hand.

"My apologies, Father," Thor said, forcing his hands to remain still on the table. "The runes... they resist my understanding. In battle, I can read an opponent's movements instantly, but these symbols..." He gestured at the texts in frustration.

Odin studied his son thoughtfully. "Perhaps we have been approaching this the wrong way. You are a warrior who learns through action, through experience." The Allfather stood, moving to retrieve a different tome from the shelves. "Tell me, how do you call your lightning?"

Thor blinked at the sudden change in topic. "I... I feel it. The storm responds to my will, to my very nature."

"Exactly," Odin said, laying the new book before Thor. Its pages showed runes being used in combat, in ritual, in dance. "The runes are similar. They are not just marks to be memorized, but forces to be felt and understood, perhaps I should add a sparring element to your learning"

Thor's eyes lit up as he saw the practical applications. This was something he could grasp the runes as living forces rather than dead symbols on a page. Over the following weeks, he developed his own methods of learning. He would trace the runes in the air with lightning as he practiced combat forms, embedding their shapes into muscle memory. He created training exercises where each strike had to follow the path of a specific rune, combining physical movement with runic understanding.

Still, progress was slow. Thor often found himself restless, his thoughts still scattered. But the memory of his visions, of the challenges that lay ahead, drove him to persevere. He might not learn as quickly as Loki had, might not absorb knowledge as easily as others, but he would not give up.

One day, as Thor practiced tracing Naudiz, the restrictive rune, in the air with lightning, a new understanding struck him. "Father," he said, turning to Odin who observed nearby, "Naudiz it's not just about constraint, is it? It's about... resistance that can build strength."

"Go on," Odin encouraged, seeing the spark of genuine insight in his son's eyes.

"In my training, when I face stronger opponents or greater challenges, I grow stronger," Thor explained, excitement building in his voice. "Could Naudiz be used the same way? Not as a containment in prison, as we use it today, but as a means of pushing beyond my limits?"

A smile of approval crossed Odin's face. "Now you begin to truly understand. The runes are tools of transformation, not just power. Each can serve many purposes, depending on how we approach them."

Thor stood, energy crackling around him with his enthusiasm. "Then let us put this theory to the test. Place Naudiz upon me, Father."

Odin considered the request carefully. "You understand this will make everything more difficult? Every strike, every movement, every breath, will require greater effort out of you?"

Thor nodded slightly before smiling. "That's what I'm hoping for."

The Naudiz rune blazed to life on Thor's chest, its ancient power immediately making the very air feel thick and resistant. The training that followed was brutal beyond measure. Each morning began in absolute darkness, hours before dawn, with Thor performing complex combat forms while tracing runes in the air with lightning. The Naudiz rune's resistance turned every movement into an ordeal where even lifting his arms felt like wading in sand.

Sif and the Warriors Three developed new training methods specifically to push him beyond his limits. They would attack him simultaneously from all sides while he was bound by magical weights. Hogun, drawing from his knowledge of distant fighting styles, taught Thor to redirect force rather than simply absorbing it. Fandral focused on precision, making Thor practice combat forms until his arms shook and his muscles screamed. Volstagg, surprisingly, proved invaluable in teaching Thor how to maintain power even when exhausted.

"Again!" Sif would command after Thor collapsed, his body drenched in sweat, lightning crackling weakly around his trembling limbs. "The enemy won't wait for you to catch your breath!"

The afternoon sessions were even more intense. Thor would stand beneath the largest waterfall in Asgard, the crushing weight of the water amplified a hundredfold by the Naudiz rune. There, fighting against the torrent, he would practice drawing the Thurisaz rune over and over, feeling it resonate more strongly than the others. Something about its nature called to him, the way it represented powerful chaotic forces. It felt like a storm that devastates, just like his own thunder. Nights were spent in deep meditation, studying the intersection between his storm powers and the runes.

As time passed. Thor's body changed, becoming more densely muscled, his control over his body growing more precise. The Naudiz rune's resistance, rather than hindering him, began to feel natural like a constantly present forge hammering him into something stronger. But it was his connection to Thurisaz that truly transformed him.

It happened during what should have been a routine training session. Thor stood in the center of the training grounds, hands empty, facing his friends as they had done countless times before. But this time was different.

The first blow landed, and something ancient awakened within him. The Thurisaz rune blazed in his consciousness as Volstagg's strike connected. Instead of staggering him, the hit only fueled a growing darkness within. Thor's eyes began to glow with an intense white light as veins bulged across his arms and neck, his muscles swelling with each impact he absorbed.

With frightening speed, Thor seized Volstagg's arm. The massive warrior barely had time to look surprised before Thor roared a sound of pure primal fury that shook the very foundations of the training grounds. In one fluid motion, he hurled Volstagg with such devastating force that the warrior's body shattered through multiple walls of solid stone, disappearing into the distance.

Fandral darted in, his blade a blur of motion, but Thor moved with impossible speed. His hand closed around Fandral's throat, lifting the warrior off his feet as if he weighed nothing. The Naudiz rune on Thor's chest cracked and splintered, unable to contain the raw power surging through him. With another earth-shaking roar, Thor slammed Fandral through the ground, the impact creating a crater before he hurled him through another series of walls.

"Thor, stop!" Sif's voice cut through the air, but Thor was beyond hearing. His consciousness had given way to pure battle rage, each blow he'd taken only adding to his strength. His muscles continued to expand, as a berserker fury consumed him.

Hogun attacked from behind, his mace aimed at Thor's head. Without even turning, Thor caught the weapon with one hand, the metal crumpling in his grip like paper. He spun, his fist connecting with Hogun's chest with such force that the grim warrior was launched skyward, disappearing into the clouds above.

The training ground began to crumble under his footsteps alone. Each movement caused stone to crack and splinter beneath him, his raw strength now far beyond anything his friends had ever witnessed. This was no longer their friend and prince this was an unstoppable force of destruction, growing stronger with every blow.

Sif circled cautiously, her shield raised as chunks of debris rained down around them. Thor's form advanced toward her, each step leaving deep impressions in the solid stone beneath. His eyes blazed with that terrifying white light, all recognition gone from his features.

"ENOUGH!"

Odin's voice thundered across the training grounds as he materialized between them. The Allfather stood tall, Gungnir raised, his single eye blazing with power that matched his son's fury. But Thor was too far gone in his berserker rage to recognize even his father.

With a primal roar, Thor charged. His fist, capable of shattering mountains, swung directly at Odin's head. The Allfather didn't move, instead raising his hand as mulitple runes blazed to life around him. Thor's punch connected with Odin's palm and for the first time since the rage took hold, his unstoppable force met an immovable object.

The impact sent shockwaves across Asgard itself. The ground beneath them cratered further, circles of destruction radiating outward as father and son stood locked at that moment of contact. Thor's muscles bulged, veins looking ready to burst as he poured more strength into his attack, but Odin's hand didn't move an inch.

"My son," Odin spoke, his voice cutting through Thor's rage like a blade through silk. "Remember who you are."

Thor responded with another roar, swinging his other fist. Odin caught this one too, and now they stood facing each other, locked in a contest of pure strength. The very air seemed to warp around them from the forces being exerted.

"You are Thor, son of Odin," the Allfather continued, his voice steady even as the ground continued to shatter beneath them. "Prince of Asgard. And this power does not control you."

Thor's rage-filled eyes met his father's steady gaze, and something flickered in their white-hot depths. Recognition slowly returned, the primal fury receding like waves after a storm. His eyes returning to normal as the berserker state faded.

Finally, Thor collapsed to his knees, his body spent. The white light faded from his eyes, leaving him gasping for breath as awareness returned.

"What..." Thor panted, looking up at his father. "What happened to me?"

"You touched something primal," Odin replied, leaning heavily on Gungnir. Even the Allfather seemed drained by the effort of containing Thor's rage. "An aspect of Thurisaz none have ever accessed before, the power to turn every blow against you into pure strength. But such power requires balance, lest it consume you entirely."

Thor looked around at the devastation - the shattered training grounds, the holes punched through multiple walls of the palace, his friends being tended to by healers in the distance. "I... I lost control."

"Indeed," Odin replied thoughtfully, studying his son. "The power you've discovered is a rare and dangerous gift. Like the storms you command, it must be mastered, not merely unleashed."

Thor pushed himself to his feet, his legs still shaking from the exertion. Looking at his hands, he could still feel the raw power lingering beneath the surface, waiting to be called forth again. "I've never felt anything like it. Each blow made me stronger, until..."

"Until you lost yourself to the rage," Odin finished. "The berserker state is an ancient power, one that runs deep in our bloodline, but yours seems even more powerful. But just as the mindless fury of old, you must learn to direct it, to maintain awareness even as your strength grows. But I have faith in you to master this power as you have your thunder."

"I will learn to control it," Thor declared, his voice carrying the weight of certainty. "Just as you say I will, father."

As Odin turned back toward the palace, Thor could see healers already attending to his friends. Guilt gnawed at him, but he also felt a glimmer of hope. This new power, once mastered, could help him protect those he cared about when the greater threats he had foreseen finally arrived.