[ Aid On Ice Continued // @morgansmornings ]
The Library of Alexandria on Earth was as much a legend as it was a reality… an utterly unique and precious structure housing untold generations of dedicated scripture and record. And after its destruction, many feared would never again see its like.
The Trehitanian Museum was, as a modern marvel of the Milky Way galaxy, what the Library of Alexandria had been as a marvel of ancient Earth. It had begun as an undertaking long before the existence of the city of Alexandria -- indeed, long before Egypt itself had ever been a concept -- and had become a trove of literature and records so unfathomably vast, it had eventually become too burdensome for any single planet in the galaxy to bear. For that matter, such a concentration of knowledge had also become a liability, and understandably so. An assault on such a location by those seeking to hoard its knowledge (or worse -- to destroy it outright) could be a catastrophe on a scale as unfathomable as the library itself.
And so it had been shifted, in its entirety, into its own pocket dimension. A realm right-angle adjacent to the Mirror Dimension, intended to provide a peaceful place where nothing -- no sentient, no document, and no artifact -- could ever face harm. The enormity of the project had been said to dwarf the All-Father's conquest of the Nine Realms, the seeding of Celestials in planetary cores… there was no one still alive who understood the full scale of the energies applied or the sacrifices made.
All anyone truly knew was that the Trehitanian Museum was a realm unto itself. One of peace, quietude, and study. A student's perfect dream, revered by gods, sorcerers, and every species of enlightened sentience.
So when a battalion of ridiculously well-armed and armored Vaulekai soldiers flooded through the entry portal in the Ertevan Lobby, their encroachment was met first with incredulity before any legitimate fear. Surely the spellwork of this place would see that their ranged weapons would be suppressed, and alarms would be raised to their presence, beckoning the museum's Peacekeepers to the lobby to surround and confront the soldiers. Their arrival would quickly be followed by their departure with their collective tails between their legs.
But they had not come with ranged weapons, or indeed anything powered by energy. Rather, theirs was a remarkably low-tech invasion… clubs, batons, and torches specifically enchanted to sunder the anti-flame runes.
Theirs, it soon became apparent, was a mission of wanton destruction. An intent to destroy or damage as much as possible.
The Vaulekai homeworld and its mad Autarch would be visited by vengeance for this unforgivable sin at a later time, but in the moment, the assault was already leading to the injury and even death of hapless students simply scrambling to get out of the path of destruction. Distress calls of every conceivable variety were sent from the museum, summoning any and all who knew of it and were capable of joining in its defense.
Among those contacted… the erstwhile Korbinite battleship Skuttlebutt, and its cyborg navigator.
Beta Ray Bill's arrival had been heralded with the tossing of his hammer through the Knowhere Lobby's entry portal. Stormbreaker was unable to generate thunderbolts in the Trehitanian Expanse, but it still functioned ably in its melee capacities, both as a blugdeon and an axe, and as he quickly learned, it was also still quite responsive to Bill's mental summons. And over the course of the next ten minutes, he dealt decisive blows against intruders flowing in from the Ertevan Lobby, and sought out those stragglers who had thought to set their torches and brands to the protective runes guarding the enormous bookshelves and display cases.
What he hadn't expected were yet more invaders, these from the Ocamite Corridor. Only then did it become clear this was in fact intended to be a multi-pronged attack, and the reinforcements that had come to assist the Museum were too scattered against the first wave to quickly organize against the second. He became a reluctant dervish of violence in the hallowed halls of knowledge, using Stormbreaker, his helm, his feet, his fists, and even his cape to subdue the Museum's attackers. The battle carried him past countless other melees and eventually into the Earth Lobby, where the entry portals were styled as humble doorways and the displays were varied and understated, much as Earthlings themselves were.
That was where he'd found the woman lying on the floor, curled in a fetal position around a tome half the size of her body, with an Ocamite raider standing over her, a savage red-hot brand in one hand. And he'd hurled first his hammer, then himself at the raider, crashing full-bore into the attacker and instantly delivering to him pain and regret for threatening a student. One raider was no match for Bill, nor were the five that came after him… but the next dozen posed a far more interesting issue, taking into account the unconscious woman, whom he'd picked up and thrown over his shoulder. And so he did the most expedient thing he could: cinched the wrist-strap of Stormbreaker about her arm and sent her hurtling through the nearest entry portal.
In his defense, he had no way of knowing in that moment it wasn't the one she'd arrived through. And it wasn't until he spared a glance at it more than a full minute later that he realized he'd sent her not to Earth… but Jotunheim.
That realization came with several grumbled oaths and a full sprint through the portal. From the carefully modulated temperature and dry air of the Museum to the frigid and unforgiving weather of the land of the frost giants -- made all the worse by the incoming blizzard.
And the door in the air snapped shut behind them.
Perfect. Stranded on Jotunheim. Who would have called that for this morning's schedule?
At least collecting his weapon and the woman he'd meant to save was a two-for-one special. His cape went a long way toward preserving her body heat -- Asgardian leather was resistant to many forms of extreme -- but unless he gift-wrapped her in it, the cape could only do so much about the winds whipping about them, trying to lash and abrade any bit of warm-blooded skin they could find. He settled for draping it across her in his arms, tucking it under her without fully swaddling her, and chose to press towards the base of what looked to be a mountain range. It looked to be an embarrassing distance away, but taking flight in this blizzard was a non-starter if he hoped for his new ward to not have all her extremities frostbitten right off.
He could already hear her teeth chattering in the cold, and with one arm bearing her to his chest, he held to her that much more securely in a bid to share what he could of his own bodily temperature. That, at least, was something he could regulate; the fusion core that functioned as his heart, both literally and figuratively, could be modulated to release more heat. It was only a question of how much was too much. He had no desire to melt her flesh off. It was when her cool fingers settled across the back of his neck that he knew he was having an intended effect on her, an indication for which he was grateful.
He did not pause in his long strides -- accomplished mostly by his hydraulically-powered legs but also assisted with some judicious forward-hurtling of his weapon -- to reply to her utterance of gratitude. A glance down at her and his ocular sensors told him that she had already dropped back into unconsciousness. That was probably for the best, at least until he could get them to proper shelter.
His leaps towards the mountain range might have done a certain gamma-empowered behemoth proud. But Bill waited on pride until reaching the foothills and scanning them to locate a suitable notch in the mountainside. Another pair of modulated leaps, enough to carry them but not to put them into the fullness of the blizzard, and he was bearing the human to a hollow that was out of the wind…. a hollow that, after gingerly setting her down, he made a point of shrouding as best he could with a nearby boulder. That done, he again modulated his heat output. There was no firewood to be found in here, but he himself could provide the heat necessary to keep her warm.
It was the first true lull of safety he felt satisfied in, and enough that he knelt down, both hands on Stormbreaker's pommel, and offered whispered words of gratitude to the All-Father and to the Gods of Light. And when his prayer was finished, he reached out tentatively with one hand to check the young woman's injuries.
