~ PROLOGUE; MUSPELLHEIM, 2018 ~
It was nighttime, but you wouldn’t have been able to tell. What with all the craters in the ground spewing lava and the fires burning everywhere, the red smoke blotting out the sky.
The fire giant Surtur sat on his throne, waiting. For what, exactly? He wasn’t quire sure.
Then, from out of the sky, a raven swooped down and dropped a scroll of parchment into Surtur’s lap, then flew away.
The giant flicked his wrist and the scroll unfolded before him, and he began to read.
It’s all in place.
“Good,” Surtur thought. “Very good indeed. Now my ungrateful daughters will have what’s coming to them. And the New Asgard will fall.”