At first he's amused, humouring them and not expecting anything truly spectacular. This world may be strange, and more advanced than most he's passed through since falling from the Bifrost, but nowhere near the splendour of Asgard.

But as he opens his eyes, the lights glimmer out at him, shining in the night like a thousand points of the rainbow, scattered across the city. The bridge, falling, shattered.

He remembers being able to look out, and he would be able to see that, remembers riding out with Thor, and the others, before, when they were still innocent and ignorant.

It was beautiful, and it was heartbreaking. It reminded him of everything he didn't have any longer, and was a pale imitation of a slight portion of home.

His breathing hitched, but he couldn't close his eyes.