Mavuika remained silent for a long time.
Then he reached out his hand.
Thor instinctively shrank back, thinking Big Sister was going to hit him.
But Mavuika did not hit him.
He merely extended his index finger and gently tapped it against his forehead.
The force was very light, as light as a caress.
But Thor was as if pushed, and his whole body stumbled back a step.
Loki let out a gloating laugh from the side.
Then Mavuika's index finger turned toward him and similarly tapped his forehead.
Loki also stumbled a step, and the smile on his face froze.
"You two..." Mavuika began, his tone carrying a hint of helplessness: "What do you want me to say?"
Thor lowered his head, not daring to speak.
Loki also lowered his head, uncharacteristically obedient.
"Impersonating Father?" Mavuika continued: "You could actually do such a thing?"
Thor lowered his head even further.
"Forcibly opening the Bifrost Bridge?" Mavuika's voice rose slightly: "And you smashed the Bifrost Bridge too?"
Loki scraped his toes on the ground.
"Father is old." Mavuika said, his tone carrying a hint of genuine reproach: "Are you trying to anger him to death?"
Thor looked up, wanting to say something, but seeing Mavuika's gaze, he swallowed his words back.
Loki stood to the side, equally docile like a little lamb.
The two were silent for two seconds.
Then they spoke at the same time:
"Sorry."
"We were wrong."
The voices were uniform, as if rehearsed countless times.
Mavuika looked at them.
Under the moonlight, these two guys, who were usually more troublesome than the other, were now standing obediently in front of him, heads lowered, admitting their mistakes, impossibly well-behaved.
Mavuika was both angry and amused.
He recalled thousands of years ago, when these two guys were still little boys, they were just like this every time they caused trouble.
Standing in front of him, heads lowered, whispering "Sorry," "I was wrong," then peeking at him with those eyes to see if he was really angry.
Back then, he would always pretend to be angry, scolding them with a straight face, and then, after they had apologized enough, he would pull them up, pat the dirt off their bodies, and say, "Not again."
A thousand years had passed.
They had grown up and become stronger; one had become the Thor, and the other had become the God of Mischief.
But their appearance when causing trouble hadn't changed a bit.
Mavuika sighed softly.
"Forget it." He said.
Thor and Loki both looked up, their eyes lighting up.
"Forget it?" Thor asked in surprise: "Big Sister, you're not angry anymore?"
"What use is my anger?" Mavuika said: "It's already like this anyway."
The corners of Loki's mouth lifted slightly.
Mavuika looked at him.
Mavuika's gaze swept across both their faces.
"Since you've come to Earth," he said, "just have some fun."
Thor's eyes lit up even more.
"Really? We can stay?"
"Where else can you go?" Mavuika retorted: "Father is currently in a fit of rage; do you want to wander outside?"
Thor scratched his head.
It seemed there was indeed nowhere to go.
"But—" Mavuika's tone shifted.
Thor and Loki's hearts lifted again.
"Don't be happy too soon." He said.
The smiles on their faces froze.
"Don't think this matter is over just like that." Mavuika said, his gaze lingering on their faces.
"When we return to Asgard, I will personally escort you two to properly apologize to Father."
Thor and Loki exchanged glances.
Then both nodded simultaneously, saying in unison:
"Thank you, Big Sister!"
"When we go back, we will definitely apologize and reflect properly!"
The voices carried a sense of relief, and a hint of... dependency they hadn't even noticed themselves.
Mavuika looked at them, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.
"Let's go." He turned and walked toward the distant Mjolnir.
"Pick up your hammer, Thor."
Thor froze for a moment, then hurriedly followed.
Loki stood in place, watching their backs.
Under the moonlight, Mavuika's figure was tall and slender, his long golden-red hair fluttering gently in the night wind. Thor followed behind him, his tall frame like a loyal guard.
Loki's gaze lingered on Mavuika for a few seconds.
Then he lowered his head and smiled softly.
In that smile, there was warmth, peace of mind, and a hint of complex emotion he couldn't even explain himself.
Hundreds of years.
Big Sister was still that same Big Sister.
Still scolding them, still protecting them, still... covering for them after they caused trouble.
Loki took a deep breath and stepped forward to follow.
Thor ran to the side of Mjolnir and stood still.
He looked down at the hammer.
The square hammerhead, the short, thick handle, gleaming with a dull metallic luster under the moonlight. That was the weapon he had used for thousands of years, accompanying him to fight across the Nine Realms, accompanying him through life and death; it was his closest partner.
He reached out his hand and grasped the hammer handle.
Then he pulled with force—
The hammer didn't budge.
Thor froze for a moment.
He let go, flexed his wrist, and grasped the hammer handle again.
This time he used even more force, the muscles on his arms tightening—
The hammer still didn't budge.
Thor's brows furrowed.
He didn't believe it.
He grasped the handle with both hands, planted his feet, took a deep breath, and used all his might—
The hammer still didn't budge.
As if it had taken root, it was firmly stuck to the ground.
Thor's face turned red.
He let go, stepped back, and stared at the hammer.
Under the moonlight, Mjolnir stood there quietly, like a silent monument.
"How could it..." Thor muttered.
He tried again.
It didn't work.
Tried again.
Still didn't work.
His breathing became rapid, and sweat seeped out on his forehead.
Loki stood not far away, arms crossed over his chest, watching this scene with great interest.
"It seems Father's spell is real." He said, his tone carrying a hint of gloating: "You can't lift it now."
Thor turned back and glared at him.
"Shut up!"
"Why should I shut up?" Loki raised an eyebrow: "I think it's quite good. You rely too much on the hammer; those who don't know might think you are the God of Hammers."
Thor's complexion turned ugly.
"What do you mean, God of Hammers?"
Loki spread his hands: "Every time you fight, the first thing you do is shout 'Mjolnir!'. Without the hammer, what else can you do?"
"There's plenty I can do!"
"For example?"
"For example—for example—"
Thor opened his mouth, realizing he actually couldn't say anything.
He really relied too much on Mjolnir.
That hammer had accompanied him for thousands of years, already becoming a part of his body. Without it, it was as if he had lost an arm.
Loki watched his expression, the smile on his mouth deepening.
"What? Can't speak?"
Thor gritted his teeth.
"Isn't it all because of your bad idea!" He roared: "Otherwise, how would I have lost my hammer!"
Loki raised an eyebrow.
"My idea?"
"It was you!"
"I didn't tell you to smash the Bifrost Bridge."
"That was to help you!"
"Help me?" Loki curled his lip: "I didn't ask you to help!"
Thor's face turned even redder.
"You—"
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