Every night for the last few months, Niklas Thorson of Asgard had been having the same dream. He was standing outside an icy cave, cold gusts of wind battering his face as he waited for the mysterious figure in a scarlet cloak and hood to appear. As always, the mysterious figure’s face was obscured in darkness. As always, the figure beckoned Nicky closer, to follow them into the cave. As always, Nicky stood his ground, and beckoned the figure to come to him. He would not follow a faceless figure into the dark, cold cave, because he knew what lay there, and it was something he wanted no part of. As always, the figure would hesitate and step closer to Nicky. Each time though, he would reach out to yank the figure’s hood off their face, but just as the face was about to be revealed, he would wake up.

As he did tonight, a cold sweat coating his lithe, deceptively strong body. His hand reached up to touch the axe pendant he always wore around his neck. It was, mercifully, still there.

Not that many others could really lift it. The thing had the mass of a star.

Nicky swung his legs over the edge of his bed and shoved his feet into the fuzzy Throg slippers that sat at the end of his bed. Wrapping his thick, red robe over his bare chest, he padded downstairs.

Nicky needed mead. Mead and a whole stack of prime ribs.

Tensions were running high, but that was par for the course, given everything that had just happened. The Avengers were back at Avengers Mansion, mugs of hot tea, hot cocoa, and mead being passed around as wounds and injuries were tended to and salves and painkillers were being administered by Night Nurse, who had presumably been called in by Jarvis.

Niklas Thorson of Asgard - currently better known as Nicky Blake of Midgard - snapped the cape off of his armor and leaned against the wall. He was silent, waiting for the planning to commence, of things that needed to happen next. It was something he would be left out of - Hela had succeeded in locking him out of Asgard for the forseeable future - but he was only too glad to stay here and help out with the planning, give the others whatever information they needed about his home...perhaps give them a note to send to his father, who he had not seen for awhile now.

Gratefully, he accepted a large, frothy mug of mead from Jarvis and took a long gulp.

Then, when everyone seemed as though they were ready, Nicky nodded his head.

“I suppose we should work out a plan for what comes next.”