Matt Murdock had been "watching" from a distance, but he was out of options. He "knew" Daisy's lion—but only because he'd met it with Elektra by his side. Going alone risked blowing his cover, and honestly, the lion terrified him.
He thought about calling Elektra to lure the cub away. No luck—she'd just fleeced several film studios out of a small fortune and was lying low somewhere along the West Coast to avoid unnecessary complications. She hadn't gone back to New York.
Fortunately, the little lion was only playing. When dinnertime rolled around, it trotted back to the villa on its own to eat.
Thor muttered a quiet prayer to Odin and slowly climbed down from the tree. He checked left, then right. The lion—widely suspected of eating people but in truth too picky to touch even raw meat—had vanished.
He exhaled in relief, scanned his surroundings, and jogged toward the villa along the garden path.
From his distant vantage point, Matt frowned. He'd spent the entire afternoon waiting—hadn't even gone to the bathroom—just to "see" what this hulking blond man was up to. And now the man was marching straight for the front door. In Matt's perception, Thor was striding toward the villa with his chest puffed out and his head held high. Not exactly textbook burglary.
Thor had never done stealth in his life. He walked with what he believed was a light, careful tread.
He checked the pool. Empty.
The tennis court. Also empty.
Faint laughter drifted from inside. He crept toward the main building.
Through the glass, the first thing he saw was the little lion—the one permanently etched into his nightmares—lying on the floor. Beside it sat a girl with green hair. The two of them were watching television, and the bright, bell-clear laughter was coming from the girl.
Curious, Thor tilted his head and watched.
The TV took up an entire wall, perfectly visible through the glass. On screen, a cat and a mouse were locked in their eternal chase. The cat's owner had just finished cleaning, only for the pair's antics to wreck the house all over again. Furious, she ordered the cat to put everything back, then stormed off.
Simple enough. The cat tried to tidy up; the mouse sabotaged every attempt. Thor paid little attention at first, but after two minutes he was hooked. There was no good and evil here—just mischief and the futile attempt to prevent it.
It reminded him of Loki. When they were boys, the two of them had spent their days exactly like this—pranking each other, roughhousing without a care. The memory hit him, and he burst out laughing.
Several blocks away, Matt nearly threw out his back. You're breaking into someone's house and you're standing there laughing? What kind of thief does that?
The laughter alerted Lorna and the lion.
Lorna drew her pistol and aimed at the window. "Who's there? Come out, or I shoot!"
She was ready. If the intruder didn't reveal himself, she'd fire. With curved-trajectory rounds, hiding was pointless.
"Hey, it's me! You might not remember, but we met at the hospital..." Thor scrambled into view with both hands raised.
Lorna recognized him, though the wariness didn't leave her face.
"So, uh... my hammer?" Thor took one step forward—and immediately froze when the lion let out a short, warning growl. He backed up with a hasty grin plastered across his face.
When Lorna heard it was about the hammer, her interest dropped by half. She'd tried lifting the thing herself out of boredom. Without using her magnetism, it hadn't budged.
Then she remembered Daisy's standing instruction: if the big blond guy shows up, let him take the hammer.
"Fine. Follow me. It's in Daisy's room."
She led the way inside. The little lion glanced at Thor, huffed something that might have been a greeting, and went back to its cartoon.
Up the stairs, down the hall, and at Daisy's door Lorna stopped. She held up a hand, verified her retinal scan, punched in the access code, and cleared several layers of security.
"Her room's a bit of a mess," she said sheepishly. "Give me a second..."
She darted inside and launched into a frantic cleanup. Clothes were strewn everywhere—and the underwear was the real problem. Daisy had flung bras and panties across half the room. Lorna didn't bother sorting; she scooped the whole mess into a bundle and stuffed it under the comforter.
Five minutes later, satisfied there were no more landmines, she waved Thor in.
She pointed at the far corner. "Your hammer's over there."
Thor didn't spare a glance at anything else in the room. His eyes went straight to Mjolnir.
He walked to it and dropped to one knee. Head bowed, he prayed. He confessed.
He prayed to Odin for the courage to keep going, to keep fighting.
He asked forgiveness of every friend he'd wronged through years of arrogance and recklessness.
Calm settled over him. Thor understood that the moment he reached for the hammer, he would most likely die. But he wasn't afraid anymore—and this was nothing like the fearlessness he'd boasted about back on Asgard. Then, he'd had an entire realm at his back. He could afford to claim he didn't fear death. This was different.
This was duty. Responsibility. Something that demanded he step up and stop the World Serpent.
Not because of a prophecy. Because he had the power, and therefore the obligation.
I can sacrifice myself. I'm willing to help the people of this world. I can do this.
He said it silently, to himself. Then, without hesitation, he reached out and gripped Mjolnir.
The sensation was instant—an inseparable bond, flesh and blood reunited. The hammer wasn't a weapon. It was a part of him.
Lorna had been watching with her arms crossed. The hammer was suddenly off the ground and in his hand, and before she could open her mouth the sky ripped open.
Clouds boiled out of a tranquil night as though something colossal was stirring the heavens. They stacked and churned, and then a bolt of lightning detonated from above with zero warning—a searing white pillar that punched through the roof of Daisy's master bedroom, blasting a hole ten meters (33 feet) across.
Rubble exploded outward. The lightning column linked villa to sky and held, a pillar of incandescent silver-white that seemed to burn itself into Lorna's retinas.
Thunder raged and crackled. Stray discharges shredded what was left of the room's furnishings. Lorna stumbled back several steps, eyes wide, and watched as clothing, shoes, handbags, jewelry—all caught in the vortex, whipped skyward, and incinerated.
"Oh my God..."
In the midst of Lorna's stunned whisper, Thor rose to his feet. Divine power flooded back into his body. Scale armor materialized across his frame. A crimson cape unfurled and caught the wind.
Thor was rather pleased with Lorna's awestruck expression. He gave what he considered a very gracious smile. "Thank you for your assistance. If I survive what comes next, I will repay you."
He spun Mjolnir, launched himself skyward, and flew west toward the coast.
Lorna stood rooted in place for several more seconds before her brain rebooted. She stared at the gaping hole in the ceiling, then at the blackened, smoldering remains of everything that had once filled this room, and swallowed hard.
Neck stiff, she turned toward the direction Thor had vanished.
"You'd better not come back," she muttered. "Daisy's going to kill you."