Beneath the swirling cosmos, where galaxies ignite the darkness, Jörmungandr, the Midgard Serpent, coils around Earth with a grip that bends reality. His scaled body, etched with glowing runes, weaves through oceans and over continents, casting shadows that devour mountains. The icy glow of his eyes pierces through storm-laden clouds, a light that speaks of ancient, forgotten power. As he loosens his hold, the Earth trembles, oceans surge, and lightning splits the sky. His jaws, wide enough to swallow the horizon, release a breath of noxious mist, forming ribbons of green auroras that dance across the night. Time itself seems to pause, as the cosmic beast awaits the final clash with the gods, a harbinger of Ragnarök, where the world’s fate hangs on a serpent’s breath.