Unfortunately for Varian, it isn’t just an axe Ivar wields. It’s a throwing axe. So when he whirls around at the waist, he immediately throws it at the other teen. But on the fortunate side of things, Ivar’s in such a state of mania that he misses by a hairsbreadth, though it will be close enough for Varian to hear the whirr of the axe as it embeds itself into a display case right next to him.

Rather than feel contrite or like he should apologize, Ivar frowns, looking a bit putout. “Hmmm, I must be losing my touch. That should have pinned you easily.” Sorry, Varian, you’re dealing with an insane Norseman. It’s just one of those days. Ivar wheels himself over, reaches up, and yanks the axe out from where it’s stuck deep into the display with a surprising amount of upper body strength.