Boom!
The Bifrost struck the desert floor with the force of a falling star. The shockwave rippled across the Gobi, a blinding flood of prismatic energy that scorched the earth and sent a wall of dust screaming into the atmosphere.
As the grit settled, a towering figure in ornate golden armor stood in the center of the smoking crater. He rested his hands upon the pommel of a massive broadsword, his gaze cold and all-seeing.
"Midgardian," Heimdall spoke, his voice resonating with the authority of the Allfather. "That is not yours to claim."
Heimdall looked down upon Emrys with the practiced condescension of an immortal watching a child play with a loaded weapon. "Relinquish Mjolnir now, and I may yet grant you mercy for your transgression."
Heimdall waited for a response—a plea for forgiveness, or perhaps a terrified surrender. Instead, he was met with silence.
Emrys was ignoring him.
The Rogue Trader was crouching over the scorched geometric patterns left by the Bifrost, tracing the glowing runes with a gauntleted finger. To an Imperial, these weren't just decorative symbols; they were the blueprints of a strategic nightmare. The Asgardians drew their power from the World Tree, and these "Runes" were the external manifestation of that cosmic energy.
In the Imperium, a device capable of mass-teleporting an entire legion across the stars without the hazards of the Warp would be worth more than a dozen Segmentums. If the energy were focused as a weapon rather than a transport beam, it could crack a planet's crust in a single strike.
I would trade a Void-Claw for this technology, Emrys mused. A black hole is just a weapon. The Bifrost is a strategic absolute.
"MORTAL!"
Heimdall's roar shattered Emrys' concentration. The Rogue Trader stood slowly, his brow furrowed with genuine irritation. He looked at the golden-clad guardian, his lip curling in a sneer. He had encountered enough arrogant "Gods" in the Warp; he had little patience for another.
"Interrupting a man's thoughts is the mark of a savage," Emrys said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, low register. "I suggest you check your tone, Gatekeeper. You are far from Asgard, and your titles mean nothing to me."
Heimdall's eyes widened. "You dare? I am the Guardian of the Bridge, appointed by Odin himself! Put down the hammer of Thor, Midgardian, or I shall strike you where you stand!"
"And why should I?" Emrys chuckled, weighing Mjolnir in his hand.
"It is a divine artifact of the Aesir!" Heimdall retorted. "It belongs to the Prince of Asgard. It is not a toy for a mere human to covet!"
"Is that so?" Emrys tilted his head. "Well, I found it on the ground. Where I come from, that makes it salvage. If you claim it's yours, call its name. If it flies to your hand, I'll let you have it."
Heimdall went rigid. He knew he was not worthy to lift the hammer. "Enough of this insolence! Release the weapon, or don't blame me for what follows!"
"Ah, the old fallback," Emrys said, a brilliant, cold smile spreading across his face. "When logic fails, resort to violence. Very well. I've always wanted to see how a 'God' handles the touch of the Warp."
"You will regret this, mortal!"
Heimdall drew his golden sword in a blur of motion. He moved with the speed of a divine knight, his face twisted in a mask of righteous fury. "I shall grant you the glory of a warrior's death!"
Emrys swung Mjolnir to meet the strike, but as the hammer collided with the golden blade, nothing happened. There was no thunder, no lightning—just the dull thud of heavy iron against steel. Odin's enchantment remained firm: Emrys could lift the weight, but he was denied the power.
Heimdall laughed as he parried a clumsy follow-up swing. "Do you see now, Midgardian? Even if you can lift it, you are not worthy! You are nothing but a thief holding a heavy stone!"
"A broken hammer, then," Emrys sneered, tossing Mjolnir aside as if it were trash. He turned his gaze back to Heimdall, his eyes beginning to glow with an unnatural, sickly violet light. "You think I need a hammer to break you? I was trying to be merciful. Now, I'll settle for beating you half to death."
Emrys spread his fingers, and the temperature in the crater plummeted. Frost began to bloom across the scorched sand as the Warp began to bleed into reality.
"Blood Boil."
Heimdall gasped as his ichor began to churn like molten lead in his veins. His vision blurred, the very air in his lungs turning to ash.
"Suffocation. Weakness."
The Asgardian felt his divine strength drain away. His muscles turned to water, and his golden armor suddenly felt like a mountain's weight.
"Life Drain."
A terrifying sensation of age washed over Heimdall. His golden hair began to frost with white at the temples, his immortal vitality siphoned away into the void. He tried to scream, but no sound came. He could only stare in horror at the Midgardian, who now looked less like a man and more like a hunger from the abyss.
"Psychic Scream!"
Emrys unleashed a wave of raw mental trauma. To Heimdall, it felt as if a thousand tortured souls were tearing at his consciousness, dragging him toward a jagged, blood-red horizon.
"Gravity Suppression. Telekinetic Shock. Blazing Radiance."
Emrys layered the spells with the efficiency of a butcher. He slammed Heimdall into the dirt with a crushing weight, then detonated the local atmosphere with a burst of psychic fire.
"SUNLIGHT—EXPLODE!"
A miniature star ignited in the center of the crater. When the light faded, Heimdall lay slumped like a broken doll, his armor blackened and his body engulfed in smoldering blue flames. He was barely breathing, his eyes rolled back in his head.
Emrys picked up Mjolnir and casually tossed it onto the guardian's chest, pinning him to the ground with the hammer's magical weight. He looked up at the churning clouds above, his voice echoing with a dark resonance.
"He insulted me first. I spared his life as a courtesy to the crown. We're even, Allfather."
The storm clouds overhead rumbled, then slowly began to dissipate. Odin was watching, and for now, the God-King of Asgard had seen enough.
Emrys turned and walked away into the night, leaving the "Guardian of the Bridge" broken in the dust.