Chapter 225: Thor's Unfaithful Hammer
The moment Thor laid eyes on Allen, he was reminded of that haunting scene—Allen lifting Mjolnir.
That moment had weighed on him for decades, leaving behind a psychological scar that still lingered.
But after downing a few strong drinks, his gloom lifted, and he returned to his usual rowdy, carefree self.
Meanwhile, Allen sat awkwardly between Steve and Natasha, clearly out of place.
Steve never liked parties much.
On the battlefield, sure—he let loose. But parties? Not his thing.
Natasha, though youthful in appearance, was actually over eighty. She'd seen too much to find joy in youthful indulgence.
As for Allen, he didn't drink at all—just kept sipping on sparkling soda.
Thor, on the other hand, was guzzling down Tony's prized alcohol stash like there was no tomorrow. Mjolnir lay carelessly on the table as he dozed off on the couch, snoring.
"Old Man Big Steve, hand me the opener, will ya?"
Allen casually motioned to Steve for the bottle opener, which was closer to him.
Still in a foul mood, Steve grabbed it without thinking—and unknowingly lifted Mjolnir.
The room fell silent.
All eyes instantly locked onto Steve.
Captain America had just lifted Mjolnir—Asgard's symbol of royal authority.
Only those deemed worthy could lift it. Doing so implied the right to inherit the throne of the realm of the gods.
Steve immediately realized something was off.
Thor had once boldly declared that anyone who could lift the hammer would be given Asgard's throne. But no one had succeeded.
Back then, Steve couldn't lift it. So how was he able to now?
He was left speechless, trapped in awkward silence.
He glanced nervously at the unconscious Thor and sighed in relief.
At least the man himself hadn't seen his hammer's betrayal.
"Thanks," Allen said, taking the hammer and casually using it as a bottle opener.
Psssh...
The atmosphere tightened like a taut wire.
Had Mjolnir broken?
How was it that anyone could lift it now?
Everyone turned to look at Thor, who was still blowing little snot bubbles in his sleep, their eyes filled with pity.
So, the hammer he cherished like life itself—turns out it was promiscuous, shameless, and utterly unworthy of the sacred dignity expected from a divine artifact.
Allen then casually placed Mjolnir on Natasha's lap.
Thud thud thud...
Burp...
After downing his drink in one go, Allen let out a satisfied belch and quipped, "Widow, I already blew it. Knock yourself out."
Natasha gave him a mild glance. It was clear Allen had placed the hammer on her lap on purpose. She glanced silently at Steve and thought to herself: Two people have already lifted it, what's one more?
Under everyone's watchful gaze, Natasha picked up the hammer and placed it back on the table.
Breaking news:
Captain America, Black Widow, and the Comedic Bat could all lift Mjolnir—yet Thor remained completely unaware.
"Tony, you didn't spike the drinks with anything illegal, did you? Am I hallucinating?" Colonel Rhodes eyed his glass suspiciously.
"I'm not that bored," Tony replied.
He walked over to the hammer, gripped it with both hands, and said, "Only explanation—this thing's a fake."
He pulled with all his might.
Nothing. Mjolnir didn't budge. It was as if it had been welded to the table.
"Let me help," Rhodes said, putting his drink down.
The two of them tested the hammer's authenticity together.
The result was clear—this was the real deal.
Which made things all the more curious.
Why could those three lift the hammer while no one else could?
Just then, Thor bolted upright from his drunken slumber.
"My father is calling me!"
With one hand raised, Mjolnir flew back into his grasp.
He staggered to the balcony, legs wobbly, and raised the hammer high into the air.
In the next moment, a rainbow-hued beam of light descended from the sky and carried him away.
"I think we should keep this quiet," Tony said seriously. "Thor really loves that hammer."
Everyone nodded in agreement—Thor's obsession with his hammer was legendary.
Suddenly, J.A.R.V.I.S.'s voice rang out with a warning:
"Level One Alert, sir."
They were just debating whether to continue the party.
"Sir, radiation levels are spiking in Westview. S.W.O.R.D. has issued a request for assistance."
"Details?"
S.W.O.R.D., a branch of S.H.I.E.L.D., possessed cutting-edge tech and even had a space station to monitor extraterrestrial threats.
Much of their tech came from alien sources that had once visited Earth.
When faced with a crisis beyond their capability, they would indeed call in the Avengers.
"Westview is shrouded in a radiation barrier that prevents external surveillance. Agents sent in have gone dark," J.A.R.V.I.S. summarized.
The Avengers immediately grew serious.
"Avengers, assemble!" Tony shouted.
As his modular suit components flew in, his armor sealed around him in seconds.
The other Avengers stood to change into their uniforms and prepare their weapons.
Soon, only Allen, Stephen, and Wong remained in the room.
"Dr. Kiwi, I have a bad feeling about this," Allen said as he jumped up and grabbed the discarded bat suit nearby. He stuck his legs into it like pulling on waders, grumbling, "Damn, these full-body suits are such a pain."
"What's bothering you?" asked Stephen.
"Wanda's lost it. She's hijacked a whole town for a twisted roleplay."
Allen lay on the floor tugging at his pants while ranting, "I've seen the movie—Vision dies, Wanda goes nuts, and she creates a fantasy life with a husband, kids, and suburban bliss. Meanwhile, Agatha's plotting in the shadows to steal her magic."
Stephen blinked in confusion. "Who's Vision?"
"…"
Allen fell silent. Right. There was no Vision in this universe.
Frozen mid-suit, he lay there staring at the ceiling, exchanging a blank look with Stephen.
"No Vision?"
"If there's no Vision, then what's going on in Westview?"
"If Wanda's not starring in a magical sitcom, who the hell is?"
"Oh crap, my brain's breaking."
Allen launched into a full-blown existential crisis—he had no idea where the story was going now.
What he had failed to realize was this:
Just yesterday, he saw a newspaper headline about Stark Industries pulling out of the Ultron project.
Which meant Vision hadn't even been created yet.
Trying to line things up with the movie plot was pointless.
"So here's the million-dollar question," Allen said, eyes wide.
"Where's the Mind Stone?"
"What's the Mind Stone?" Stephen asked.
"…"
Then Allen remembered—he had taken the Time Stone from the sorcerer timeline, which meant Doctor Strange had no knowledge of the Infinity Stones.
"No big deal," Allen said, hopping to his feet and adjusting his suit. "I'm the protagonist—nothing I can't handle."
Soon after, everyone gathered in the hall.
With Doctor Strange present, a single portal would take them straight to their destination.