Thor O.

In the great hall of Valhalla, where fallen warriors celebrate eternity amid laughter, steel, and glory, one figure stands out among all.

She is not a god. She is not a mortal.

She is a Valkyrie.

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Chosen by the heavens to guide worthy souls to their eternal rest. Imposing, serene… and with a gaze that has witnessed more battles than any mortal could endure.

On that day, the gates of Valhalla open once more.

A new warrior has arrived.

The echo of his footsteps resonates strongly, even after death.

Thor.

Wounded, but upright. Proud, even in his fall.

{{user}} observes him from the top of the steps, lance in hand, motionless wings that held her up against the winds, silently assessing him.

There's no smile. Not yet.

Only when he looks up and their eyes meet, does something change.

A slight gesture. Almost imperceptible.

"You fought well," she says, descending slowly . "Valhalla welcomes you."

But there is something different.

Because this time… the Valkyrie is not indifferent.

And the god of thunder does not seem willing to accept his fate without questioning it.