Thor slowly sank to his knees, his face full of regret and frustration.
Agent Coulson, watching him, felt complicated.
For a time, he had believed that this man before him was the true master of the hammer—the very one they had been waiting for.
But in the end, Thor was no different from the other bystanders. He still couldn't lift the divine weapon.
"…It's over."
Coulson took a long breath, lifted his comm, and ordered the other agents to take Thor into custody.
Senju Haruto, however, only glanced in Thor's direction.
The temporary facility's walls couldn't block his vision—his mental power pierced through them with ease.
The result didn't surprise him.
Yes, Thor was indeed the rightful wielder of Mjolnir. But at this stage, he was still the same arrogant god who had been cast down.
Only after hearing of Odin's death—and when the Destroyer descended, threatening to annihilate everything—would Thor truly understand himself.
But… Thor wasn't the only Asgardian who had come to this research site in such stormy weather.
"Loki."
The name surfaced in Haruto's mind the instant he expanded his spiritual sense to cover the facility.
A powerful psychic fluctuation answered back.
This was no human energy.
Haruto's gaze shifted, finding the source just as he expected.
Loki stood at the edge of the research center, dressed sharply in a black suit, holding an umbrella.
Unaware of Haruto's scrutiny, he cloaked his presence with magic. Not even Coulson, Hawkeye, or the gathered agents sensed he was there.
His narrowed eyes fixed on Thor, collapsed in failure.
What angered him wasn't Haruto lifting the hammer.
No—what burned in his heart was that a mortal of Midgard had sullied the dignity of the gods.
But he didn't see Haruto as his true enemy.
That role, in his eyes, belonged to his brother.
By now Loki knew the truth.
He was not Odin's son. He was the offspring of Laufey, king of the Frost Giants.
The revelation left him in agony, lost between hatred and despair.
It forced him to see reality clearly.
He would never gain Odin's trust.
He would never be king of Asgard.
To Odin, Thor was his only true heir.
The thought festered into a bitter jealousy as Loki looked at his brother again.
Why…
Why not me?
Why could it never be me?
His left hand clenched tightly into a fist.
No!
His mind screamed in defiance.
It could be him.
He could be king of Asgard.
He was smarter than Thor. Smarter even than Odin himself.
Hadn't the so-called All-Father already fallen prey to his trickery, cast into the Odinsleep?
Asgard was already within his grasp.
All he needed was to remove Thor from the board.
Then the Nine Realms would no longer have any threat left to oppose him.
Killing Odin, lost in the Odinsleep, would be child's play.
Killing Thor, now reduced to a mortal, would be even easier.
And around them—mere humans.
They knew nothing of magic. They clung to technology thousands of years behind Asgard's.
There was no one here who could stop him.
Golden light flared in Loki's hand.
A dagger, sharp and gleaming, materialized in his grip.
With one strike, he could end Thor.
End everything.
But…
For reasons he couldn't explain, his legs felt heavy as mountains. He couldn't take a single step forward.
Memories of his time with Thor rose unbidden.
Their childhood. The countless times Thor found him. The elaborate surprises Loki had crafted for his brother.
Perhaps his blood as Odin's son was a lie.
But his bond with Thor—their history, their feelings—those were real.
"…Thor."
Loki whispered the name, and the dagger dissolved into nothing.
Thor was just a mortal now. Even the hammer had forsaken him.
So long as he didn't return to Asgard, perhaps he would never stand in Loki's way.
Whether it was hesitation, or the hope of an easier path, Loki abandoned the dark thought.
Meanwhile, the defeated Thor was surrounded again by the rushing agents.
This time, he offered no resistance.
Remorse and self-blame filled his heart. He allowed himself to be seized, dragged up from the dirt without a word.
Minutes later, Thor was taken to a separate holding room inside the facility.
Though hastily built, it had everything necessary.
Coulson hurried there, following procedure, and began questioning him.
But no matter what Coulson asked, Thor only sat there in silence, his expression vacant.
At last, Coulson lost patience. Leaving orders for the guards to watch him closely, he walked out.
What Coulson hadn't expected was that soon after Thor's capture, Jane Foster and Erik Selvig appeared at the facility.
And clearly, they had come because of Thor.
After a brief consideration, Coulson decided to hear what Selvig had to say.
After all… Senju Haruto had no intention of helping in this matter.
And as a Level Seven agent, Coulson had no authority to command someone like Haruto, their so-called "magical consultant."
Even Director Fury himself, if he came in person, might be ignored by him.
Meanwhile, Thor sat alone in the empty room.
The failure to lift Mjolnir weighed on him heavily, throwing his heart into turmoil.
"…Hey."
A voice, achingly familiar, echoed in the chamber.
Thor's head snapped up, eyes darting around.
"Loki?" he asked cautiously.
"Brother."
With that warm word, light shimmered, and Loki appeared before him in his black suit.
But his expression was heavy, shadowed.
"Loki, it really is you."
Seeing his brother again eased Thor's heart somewhat.
"How's Father?"
At once, Thor thought of Odin, far away in Asgard. He asked urgently, desperate for news.
If anyone could help him now, it would be Loki.
But when he mentioned their father, Loki only shook his head.
As though stricken by some devastating blow.
A terrible premonition welled up inside Thor.
"…Father… is dead."
Loki drew a deep breath, his voice low and solemn.
"Thor."