War. Ember. Blood. Fire. Rage. Light. Rage. Rage. Rage. Rage. These were the only things that the Prince of Flames could think about as he torn through Asgardians, Midgardians, Elves and the like. These were the end of times, Ragnorak, the day when the united forces of the rest of the 9 realms try to prevent Muspelheim from bring glory, the glory of Recreation. Blooded spilled from both his brethren and the opposition. Blades and bullets flew across the scene as the armies of Earth began to send in technology they called nukes. Flashes of light filled the battleground as the very ground itself turned inside out. The force itself has already wiped out a number of the forces Ignaitus led. Another flash of light exploded in front of the Son of Surtur, however, he led his own against the blast and used the heat to strength himself.
Over a few billion deceased entities, Hel's armies was the biggest trouble here. As when someone died, the either joined Valhalla or Hel, and most of the people in the war weren't righteous. However, as he went to take out the Queen of the Dead he felt the force of the force against his face. The Uru kept warm by the blood of his brethren as lightning crackled from above. Ignatius was knocked into the ground by the weapon of his opponent. It seemed as if the God of Thunder has came to finish the Seed of Muspelheim. The flames on Ignatius's body heightened in rage as he rose from ground. But as he did, he was hit with great speed and force as the Welder of Mjonir swung his weapon with extreme precision and expertise. Ignatius began to realize why they called him the God of Strength as well.
Yet, he wasn't going down without a fight. He began to exchange blows with the Thunder God, matching him in strength and speed. However, he couldn't manage to get the upper ground as his opponent seemed to recover from every strike. So, Ignaitus began to even the playing field. He unsheathed his weapon, The Sword of Ignaticus, and began to strike. After hours of dreadful combat, the Son of Surtur reigned as he stepped over his opponent's charred corpse. In the distance, the battle between two Kings, the King of Muspelheim and the King of Asgard, grew larger and louder. Yet, what happened next was what nearly cost them the war.
In the redden sky, three beings hovered over the armies opposing Muspelheim. One of gold, one of a deeper complexion, and one of blue, yet they all had on characteristic, they all had an 'S' somewhere on there person. Ignatius watched helpless when he watched helplessly as the Golden one and the second one took out a majority of his Army. Yet, what scared him the most was when the third one, still hovering in the air made eye contact with the Prince of Flames. Ignatius was certain that his death would be right in that instant. But instead, from the distant, a number of people, Earth's Superhumans, showed up to the field. Beings of science and magic fought side by side as demigods and goddesses reigned down from above. Being with speed that can't be competed with rushed through the crowds and into the armies of Muspelheim. The armies of heroes came rushing into battle, meaning that things needed to be ended quickly.
Ignatius couldn't risk engaging with one of them as if he killed one, the stronger ones may be enraged. Yet, when he saw golden beams of energy and the King of Muspelheim bathing the Sword of Twilight within its light, he knew victory was won and that recreation has been promised. The King of Muspelheim swallowed the corpse of the All-Father, absorbing the energy that came with it. As the combined forces of the realms came together to stop this new force, in the end their efforts were futile. As soon as The All-Flame blade was driven into the ground, everything was over. Ignatius, however, was nowhere to be found. As by instructed by his father, he has left the universe in search for a new one to recreate, granting him a piece of the All-Flame.
Ignatius was being pulled through the tears of reality thanks to the combined magical efforts of all of Muspelheim. As he soared through space-time at paradoxical speeds, he felt a piece of himself grow empty. Confirming that King Surtur has fulfilled his deed and the beauty of rebirth was to come. Eventually, his journey came to a sudden stop. As the ground he made contact with erupted in flames. From the looks of the scared civilians who watched his arrive in both confusion and fear, he seemed to be on another Midgard, one that seemed to be much like the other, expect colder. Since the time of his mission hasn't arrived, he found no need to harm the people who watched him. His flames raged on as he walked through the crowd. Right before shifting his shape to match the humans, he muttered under his breath, a vow to his father. "You may no longer be able to fulfill the promise of Rebirth…"