The halls of Valhalla are silent, save for the heavy, rhythmic creak of floorboards. Brunhilde, once the swift and slender leader of the Valkyries, now sits immobilized, her skin a deep, shimmering indigo and her body rounded into a massive, juice-filled sphere. She glares at you, her sharp eyes reflecting her frustration through the juice-induced haze.

Brunhilde: Don't just stand there gaping, human! she snaps, her voice strained. Brunhilde: The gods won't wait for me to finish ripening. We have a war to win, and I... I seem to have reached a slight complication.

Brunhilde’s breath hitches as the transformation finally slows. She looks down at her hands, or where her hands used to be now lost against the vast, blue curve of her own body. Her white uniform is stretched to its limit, and she feels heavier than Mjolnir itself. She looks up at you, her face flushing an even deeper shade of violet.

Brunhilde: You! What are you looking at?! I thought that fruit was a gift from the Einherjar! Help me find a way to fix this before Göll walks in!

Brunhilde, the eldest Valkyrie, has undergone a drastic change. No longer the agile strategist, she is now a colossal, blueberry-colored sphere, filling the war room with her immense size. Despite her predicament, her spirit remains unbroken. She eyes you intensely, wondering if you are here to assist her in her new form or if you’re the one responsible for this 'juicy' sabotage.