Storm Rider

It was the Year 8219, the year of the sword. The war of the Great Houses had
come to an end and left the relative western arm of the Uman galaxy a wasteland.
Whole planets had been purged from existence. Entire races made extinct. And for
what purpose? To what end were the masterminds of this great sacrifice marching
towards?

The Citadel. In all the vast emptiness that remains of the once
proud empires of man, this is the one remaining jewel in the crown of his
scientific wonders. A place where, it was believed, anything was possible. A
place of marvels that bordered on the mystical. Could this be the prize for
which untold billions lost their lives? Could this small outpost of miracles be
the seed of desire that drove those in search of power to wipe the galaxy clean
in order to possess it?

The Fimbul Winter had come. Three years of unyielding cold and bitter snow. All
had come to pass as prophesied. The hordes of Muspelheim pounding like waves
across the Rainbow Bridge. The ship of nails, Naglfar, breaching the shores of
the Eternal Realm, belching forth its army of giants from Jotunheim. All this
and more led the mighty hosts of Asgard to gather their forces and meet their
foe on the Visgard plain to perish in what was believed to be the Twilight of
the Gods.

“Believed to be” because not all came to pass as it should. For
even in the web of fate that governs all life, even the lives of gods, there is
room for chaos, uncertainty, things hidden from view. Things that even the Fates
themselves cannot see. And it is in those tiny holes that the balance of the
universe can rest. Holes that when opened can change the pattern forever. And so
it was, when all teetered on the head of a pin, in the midst of the confusion of
the Gods desperate struggle, one dared rip wide a hole in fate and forever
change the course of the universe. Though shunned and looked down upon, on that
day, he was the center of all that was. And forever more the name Loki would
ring in the ears of those who knew him as…savior.

My name’s Akemi. Number 29 to my keepers her at the Citadel. Should I be
grateful to be alive at all? Grateful that I’m not expelled and left to die
outside on the surface? Yeah, right. The Citadel may be everybody’s dream, but
not mine. More like my nightmare. That is until He showed up. Who, or more
importantly, what he is I don’t know, but taking crap from anyone isn’t one of
his problems. So I say why not tag along for the ride? Maybe he can do what
nobody’s ever done before – defeat the Citadel and give me the chance to get the
hell off of this barren rock to freedom. Maybe. First thing’s first though. Top
on his agenda, find somebody named Loki, and second, try and figure out why he
didn’t die in something called…Ragnarok?