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May 2032
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There was a time my mornings were spent racing comets and winning.
I would fly from one end of the cosmos to the other, soaring so close to stars my cape would alight.
My only compatriots, the thunder in my ears and the cold hard chunk of uru in my hand.
But I am not that god anymore. That god was worthy.
I am the Odinson.
I would fly from one end of the cosmos to the other, soaring so close to stars my cape would alight.
My only compatriots, the thunder in my ears and the cold hard chunk of uru in my hand.
But I am not that god anymore. That god was worthy.
I am the Odinson.