The moment the towering doors swung open, the Tyrant stopped.
Not because of the grandeur of the Great Hallโthough even he had to admit Asgard knew how to build a roomโbut because the scent that rolled through those doors struck him with considerably greater force than Thorโs
relentless discipline of his recent training, the constant drive to discover how far his own strength could carry him, there was something unexpectedly welcome about sitting here bruised, exhausted and ravenously hungry after a proper contest.
The Tyrant lifted his drink toward
reminder.โ
As the Great Hall came into view, however, his attention immediately shifted forward, curiosity overtaking reflection.
โNow show me how Asgard feeds its warriors.
The Tyrant returned the clasp firmly, satisfaction still lingering in his expression despite the pleasant ache beginning to settle through muscles that had been thoroughly tested. He had come to Asgard expecting training, perhaps even hoping Thor would prove capable of pushing
than good.โ He paused briefly, choosing the words without ceremony. โIโve spent most of my time lately focused on getting stronger on my own terms. Sometimes that means I forget training can actually be enjoyable.โ
The admission was followed by a small shrug.
โToday was a good