I know how it is to lose loved ones. I can have sympathy for that much, if nothing else.

As it stands, you will be kept in the lowest levels of Dökkálfheimr, immersed in a perpetual nightmare from which there is no escape. Your minutes will seem like centuries; hours will be eternities. My daughters will feed on your misery as you have fed on ours.

You will wake when I decide you will wake. No sooner. And mortals can last a very, very long time down there.