Prince of Asgard

New York City's Sixth Street District lay in ruins. The air was thick with the pungent smell of gunpowder. Beside a massive crater, a huge corpse lay silently in the middle of the road. Within the crater stood a hammer and a blond, muscular man who appeared to have fallen unconscious. If not for the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, it would have been easy to believe he had fallen to his death from the sky. "What is this?