"Vibranium is not indestructible."
Senju Haruto raised his arm, palm aimed at the oncoming vibranium warship.
Vibranium was often hailed as the hardest metal in existence, capable of absorbing nearly any form of kinetic energy. But it was never truly invincible. Even in Marvel's own canon, it had been destroyed countless times. In Avengers: Endgame, Steve Rogers' shield—crafted from vibranium—was shattered by Thanos' sheer strength.
And the power Haruto now wielded far exceeded the might of a Thanos without Infinity Stones.
Faced with Princess Shuri's desperate final charge, Haruto didn't even furrow his brow.
White Magic. Black Magic. Chaos Magic.
Three primal, volatile forces of sorcery fused together, creating the strongest composite spell this world had ever seen. The spell engulfed Shuri and the vibranium warship she piloted.
A blinding white light erupted skyward, covering the skies above Wakanda.
Shuri—and her ship—were both swallowed whole.
When the light finally faded, nothing remained. No ship. No body. Only empty earth lay where she had once stood.
And with that—Wakanda's entire royal bloodline had fallen.
King T'Chaka. King T'Challa. Princess Shuri.
Even the Panther Goddess Bast herself had perished, reduced to nothingness.
Haruto slowly lowered his arm.
Turning his gaze toward the distant battlefield, he saw chaos still raging. Though Bast had died, the prisoners who had consumed the Heart-Shaped Herb—and the shinobi of the Hidden Sound—had not lost their power. With his sand soldiers joining the fray, the battle was already hopelessly one-sided.
It wouldn't take long before the war reached its inevitable conclusion.
Soon, Wakanda would be his.
And with it, half of its great vibranium mines would be at his complete disposal.
No exaggeration—he now controlled the two most powerful nations on Earth.
Wakanda.
The Land of Fire.
Both were his foundations.
As that thought crossed his mind, a long-silent voice suddenly echoed in his ears:
"Please proceed to New Mexico for your next check-in. A reward will be granted upon success."
"New Mexico?" Haruto murmured.
Despite its name, the state had little to do with Mexico itself. It was part of the western United States—vast stretches of desert, sparse development, a land of dust and emptiness.
In the Marvel timeline, it had only appeared once.
The place where Thor's hammer fell.
Haruto pivoted sharply, eyes narrowing toward the direction of the U.S.
"So… we've reached the timeline of Thor already."
The location surprised him, but it was good news nonetheless.
Every check-in brought him new rewards.
Every reward made him stronger.
And Wakanda's fate was already sealed. No matter how they struggled, they were like a single drop of water falling into an endless ocean—unable to stir even a ripple.
Orochimaru, one of the Legendary Sannin of Konoha, possessed both intelligence and ability. If he could found the Hidden Sound Village, he was more than capable of handling the remaining aftermath.
Haruto merely opened communications, gave Orochimaru brief instructions, and then activated a portal leading to New Mexico.
Though he had never physically been there, he had seen the crater left by Mjolnir's fall in the films. The memory was vivid enough to shape into reality.
After all, a sorcerer's sling ring portals required clear visualization. Without an image in mind, the gateway could not be formed.
But the moment Haruto stepped through, arriving in the barren deserts of New Mexico—
—a black SUV screeched to a stop in front of him.
The door swung open, and a tall man in a black suit stepped out. He carried himself with confidence, radiating authority.
Adjusting his jacket, the man glanced around before his eyes landed on Haruto.
The instant he saw him, that confidence evaporated.
His hands trembled slightly as he removed his sunglasses, eyes widening in disbelief as he scanned Haruto from head to toe.
Behind Haruto, the fiery remnants of the closing portal lingered, proof of how he had just arrived.
"...Haruto?"
The man swallowed hard, voice tinged with nerves as he spoke the name cautiously.
Haruto's eyes narrowed slightly. The man before him was none other than Agent Phil Coulson—Level 7 S.H.I.E.L.D. operative.
In the Thor storyline, Coulson was tasked with investigating the hammer's fall. It seemed Haruto had appeared at precisely the same moment in the timeline.
"If you're here," Coulson muttered, half to himself, "then it only confirms… this hammer really is extraordinary."
Despite his shock, a spark of excitement lit up in Coulson's eyes. He had been struggling to make sense of Mjolnir's sudden arrival. But with a figure like Haruto—a master of magic—standing here, how could he not seize the chance to learn more?
He forced a smile, straightened up, and extended a hand in invitation.
"Shall we?"
Haruto didn't bother with courtesy. He stepped forward immediately, striding toward the hammer's crash site.
Coulson followed quickly, careful to keep half a step behind.
They weren't alone. The desert was dotted with onlookers and curious tourists, all drawn by the strange sight.
In this age of modern technology, a single video clip could spread like wildfire online. People had come from all over just to glimpse the mysterious object.
"Do you know where it came from?" Coulson asked again, throwing out the question hopefully.
"You'll know once we get closer," Haruto replied offhandedly.
In truth, he already knew everything.
Because of his arrogance and love of battle, Thor had angered Odin, the All-Father. Stripped of his godhood, he had been banished to Earth as a mortal. His hammer, Mjolnir, had crashed here in New Mexico.
As for Thor himself? At this very moment, he was probably lying unconscious somewhere after being tasered by mortal law enforcement.
Haruto and Coulson finally reached the edge of the crater—just in time to see a scene unfold.
A grizzled old man, bearing an uncanny resemblance to Stan Lee, was behind the wheel of his beloved pickup truck. A heavy chain extended from the back of the truck bed, hooked securely around the hammer.
At the urging of nearby onlookers, the old man revved the engine, pushing it to maximum power.
Then—
BOOM!
The truck frame buckled instantly under the hammer's impossible weight, collapsing in a heap of twisted metal.
The hammer didn't budge an inch.
As the old man leapt from the cab, cursing loudly at the wreckage of his truck, Mjolnir continued to rest quietly in the crater, gleaming with a metallic sheen only uru could possess.
"My God, Haruto—did you see that?!" Coulson exclaimed, his voice full of awe.