'Hush, Bragi. This is not a time for your eloquent misery.' Tyr stands, his scarred, hairy body now recovered from the terrible injuries Hunter had seen inflicted on it in Norway. 'That sly trickster Loki has not been seen for a season,' Tyr continues. 'If we find him, and carve his body with my axe, Ragnarok will not unfold. Simple.'

'It's too late for that,' Hunter insists. 'Loki is already with the Enemy, and he's not alone. A lot of others, from across the Great Dominions, are under the Enemy's control. They're all following the lead of Janus, two faces, neither of them pleasant.'

'If it is too late, what is the point of this council?' Bragi asks.

With a roar, Thor crashes his hammer Mjolnir on the stone flags and sends lightning flashing across the hall. 'The Aesir have never turned from battle, even when all hope appeared lost. We fight, and if the Norns so decide, we die!'

Thundering his support for Thor, Tyr drives the gods to their feet with a deafening martial clamour.

With a sigh, Hunter waits for the bravado and bloodlust to subside.

Freyr, the Shining Lord and brother of Freyja, says, 'Why do we need to listen to you, Brother of Dragons? What can you possibly offer the Aesir?'

'Allies. The Enemy force is greater than you can imagine. However powerful you think you are, you won't be able to hold them back. Alone. But with an army of gods, from all the Great Dominions… now, that would make a difference.' Hunter gestures to Math, observing silently with his hands folded in front of him. 'The Tuatha De Danaan have already agreed to stand with us. I have a message from Lugh guaranteeing the support of the Golden Ones.'

'An army of gods?' Tyr's laughter roars to the rafters. Thor, though, remains grave as he considers Hunter's words.