Thor, grief and fury burning in his chest, strode toward the two towering Destroyers.
The metal sentinels did not immediately attack. They stood still, as if awaiting orders from afar.
"Loki!" Thor bellowed into the heavens. "I know you're watching! Is this what you want? To slaughter innocents, to burn a town to ash? What glory does that bring you?"
He spread his arms wide, unflinching. "If you seek blood, then take mine! But mark me, brother—when I return to Asgard, I will make you answer for this!"
The onlookers—mortals and Asgardians alike—held their breath. The silence was suffocating. Moments ago, they had seen Lock, a monster of power, fall beneath the Destroyers' flames. Now Thor stepped forward alone. Many could not bear the sight, shielding their eyes with trembling hands.
The first Destroyer r,aised its massive arm and struck. The blow hurled Thor into the sky—
—where lightning met him.
A blinding flash split the clouds, thunder rolling as if the heavens themselves roared. Electricity danced across Thor's body, encircling him in white fire. His suspended form glowed brighter and brighter until none could look directly at him.
Thor—resurrected.
In the original tale, Mjolnir had stirred at Thor's sacrifice, restoring his divine birthright. But Lock's interference had altered the rhythm of fate, and now Thor's power awakened without his hammer's call.
Lightning cascaded around him, thunder reverberating like a war drum.
Jane gasped, tears welling. "Oh… my God…" The silly, stubborn man she had loved was no mere braggart—he truly was what he had always claimed. A god.
The hammer answered next. From fifty kilometers away, Mjolnir tore through the sky, trailing shockwaves, and slammed into Thor's waiting hand. His form blazed, complete at last—Thor, God of Thunder, in his true majesty.
A tornado swirled into being above, vast as a storm-god's wrath. Thor floated at its eye. "I am Thor Odinson," he thundered, "and by the power of Asgard—I shall end you!"
He descended like judgment itself, lightning exploding from every strike.
But the Destroyers did not scatter. Instead, they embraced—two colossi melding into one greater whole. Circles of enchanted metal spun and layered until the Combined Destroyer towered above, arms raised to meet Thor's blow.
The clash shook the earth. The tornado wavered but held. Thunder and fire warred in the skies as the two forces pushed against one another.
Thor drove the giant back, hammer striking with divine fury, but its spinning armor regenerated each dent, each crack. The Destroyer's resilience stunned him.
Again Thor rose into the storm, drawing more lightning than before, until the heavens themselves seemed to shudder. A dragon-lik,e vortex tore at the land, dragging stone and soil skyward.
The god descended once more, a blazing spear of storm.
The Destroyer's face split, unleashing a pillar of flame thrice as wide as before. Thor plunged through it, Mjolnir cleaving fire in two. The hammer struck—
—and the Destroyer split apart.
But instead of falling, the two halves rolled clear. Thor's strike tore a crater into the town, but his quarry lived.
Separated once more, the two Destroyers attacked from opposite flanks. Hands of molten metal struck, while flames roared in tandem. Thor parried and dodged, hammer spinning, lightning searing away fire before it could consume him. But he knew. This was no longer a battle of strength. He had power, yes—but not the means to end them.
On the sidelines, Sif clenched her jaw. "He cannot win like this," she whispered.
Her gaze fell to Lock's charred corpse. She marched over and kicked it sharply.
"Get up, you bastard, and help him!"
The mortals gasped. Fandral, Hogan, Volstagg—all stared at her as if she'd gone mad.
"He's ashes already, Sif!" Hogan said sternly. "He gave his life buying tand ime. Let the dead rest, woman!"
But Sif only kicked again, frustration boiling. "You fools, he's faking it! I saw him open his eyes!"
Daisy, furious, threw herself between them. Tears streaked her cheeks as she shouted, "Haven't you done enough? He saved us all, and you still insult him? Leave him be!"
The others cried out too, shaming Sif for her cruelty.
But she ignored them. Her blade flashed free. "Fine. If he's truly dead, then he won't mind losing what's left. Let's see if he still pretends!"
The sword thrust downward—
—and two fingers caught it, clamping the blade with effortless precision.
Lock sat up, charred skin cracking and falling away to reveal unbroken flesh beneath. His grin was infuriatingly casual.
"Come on," he said, voice dry. "I was just taking a nap."
A chorus of voices exploded at once: "No!!!"
They had mourned him, cursed him, grieved, raged—and now here he was, alive. Relief battled fury in their faces, and fury won.
Lock wisely backed away before they could throttle him. Dusting himself off, clad only in a pair of gold-colored pants, he leapt toward the battlefield.
Because of course, all he had left were those ridiculous golden pants.
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A/N: Advanced Chapters Have Been Uploaded On My Patreon
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