Thor didn't resist. He let them shove him forward like a puppet on strings.
"Move it!"
He trudged ahead, hollow and defeated. Before stepping out, he cast one last look at Mjölnir, resting less than a meter away, and felt a crushing wave of despair.
In the distant cosmos…
At the edge of Asgard's Bifröst Bridge, Heimdall stood tall, both hands resting on his sword. His amber eyes reflected stars and distant worlds.
He had witnessed everything. Thor's early pride and courage, followed by his disbelief and eventual collapse.
Disappointment. Defeat. Heimdall admired this brave and straightforward prince. But he understood this was Odin's test.
Only those who weather trials and tribulations can grow into a worthy God-King, one capable of guiding Asgard toward a radiant future.
Without hardship, a flower raised in a greenhouse would never bloom with true brilliance.
Heimdall exhaled deeply, his gaze reaching far beyond the realm.
Elsewhere, Jane Foster crouched in hiding. The previously noisy camp had gone eerily quiet. She couldn't tell what was happening.
Had that wild, handsome guy been beaten to death by the guards?
No, she had to check for herself. But just as she was about to move, a vehicle rolled out of the compound. Inside it was the very same wild man tightly bound.
"Thank goodness… scared me half to death," Jane muttered, clutching her chest as it heaved with relief.
🎶 "You are electricity, you are light, you are the only legend, I only love you, you are my superstar!" 🎶
Her phone blared out a cheesy ringtone. Startled, she scrambled to pull it out. It was Erik calling.
Awoken by the thunder, Erik hadn't been able to fall back asleep. He turned to reading web novels on his phone when Jane's message came in. The moment he heard it, he bolted upright, every trace of sleep gone.
"That lunatic got arrested?! What were you thinking?" Erik shouted the moment Jane answered.
"I couldn't leave him behind!"
"Where are you? Come see me right now!"
"I'll be there in ten."
Jane got to her feet and began to leave, unaware that Hawkeye was tracking her with his usual cold, calculating eyes.
But she wasn't a threat. Just an ant. So he let her go.
If it had been someone like the Winter Soldier, there'd already be an arrow between their shoulder blades.
Sometimes, being small and harmless is the best protection.
"It was SHIELD who took him. I've heard about them from an old colleague. They're mysterious, not tied to any one nation only answerable to the UN Security Council. They handle supernatural phenomena worldwide," Erik said grimly.
"You didn't see what I saw," Jane insisted. "There was thunder everywhere"
"Mjölnir!" Darcy suddenly exclaimed, holding up a book.
"Where'd you get that?" Erik snapped.
"Children's bookstore. Wanted to show you how ridiculous this story is."
Jane crossed her arms, unconvinced. "You're the one who told me to consider every possibility."
"I meant scientific possibilities, not fairy tales!"
Jane's eyes widened. "Maybe magic is just science we haven't understood yet. Arthur C. Clarke said that."
Erik blinked. "Who?"
"Arthur C. Clarke. Sci-fi author. But also a pioneer of real science. If there were an Einstein–Rosen Bridge… and something on the other side… wouldn't a true scientist walk through it?"
Jane sat wrapped in a damp blanket, soaked by the recent downpour, hair sticking to her cheeks, looking like a drenched kitten.
Seeing the debate drag on, Darcy hesitated, then added, "Primitive Viking culture might've worshipped them as gods."
Jane's eyes lit up. She gave Darcy an approving nod. "Yes, thank you."
Darcy nodded back, and both women turned to Erik expectantly.
To Erik, Jane looked like a girl hopelessly blinded by love, emotional, irrational.
But she was also his student. His protégé. He couldn't just abandon her. With a long, weary sigh, he gave in.
"Alright, fine. I'll give it a shot."
"Yes!"
Jane leapt up with excitement, and the blanket slid off her shoulders, revealing a cream-colored blouse and a white knee-length skirt.
The blouse hugged her figure, outlining her curves with elegance. Her toned, flat stomach was smooth like the Serengeti plains.
The skirt outlined her legs, her calves plump and wrapped in sheer stockings.
Overcome with joy, she threw her arms around Darcy and planted a loud kiss on her cheek, leaving her face smeared with rainwater and lipstick.
Meanwhile, Thor sat alone in a plain SHIELD interrogation room, his eyes vacant.
Agent Hill entered. Today she wore a gray blazer and slim-fitting trousers that complimented her sculpted figure. Her long legs were accentuated by sleek black heels.
"You took out all my men today," she said flatly. "Some of the best agents in the world. You made them look like mall cops. That takes training."
She eyed Thor sharply.
"Where'd you learn to fight like that? BJST? Chechen? AFH?"
She began pacing, her silver earrings swinging with every step.
But Thor didn't even glance at her.
"You look like the kind who fights for a paycheck. South African? Eastern European?"
Still nothing. Thor turned his head away, lost in thought.
"There are people who would pay top dollar for muscle like yours. But we'll find out who you really are. That's what we do."
Her phone buzzed.
Hill glanced at the screen, one of her subordinates had messaged. Someone was asking for her outside.
With a last warning glare, she said, "Don't try anything," and left the room.
The moment she exited, a figure stepped into the room.
Slick hair. Immaculate suit. Tie fastened high and tight. Every detail perfectly in place—elegant, refined, dangerous.
Thor's eyes widened.
"Loki? What are you doing here?"
(End of Chapter)
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