Chapter 244: Thor: What Do You Mean the Hammer Is Ordinary!
Thor got up, clapped Ethan on the shoulder with the particular force of someone who considers this an expression of warmth and hasn't fully recalibrated for human physiology.
"Brother! You came!" He looked at the Destroyer, then back at Ethan. "I should warn you — the Destroyer is Asgardian-forged. Conventional weapons cannot damage it. Only Mjolnir has the power to—"
"I know," Ethan said.
"—destroy it. And only I can wield—"
"I know that too," Ethan said.
"—Mjolnir, so unfortunately—"
The Destroyer chose this moment to fire again. Ethan raised his hand without looking at it, let the chaos magic absorb the beam, redirected the energy into the ground. Then he turned his attention to the surrounding field, located every vehicle and piece of structural steel in a radius of approximately forty meters, and put all of it on top of the Destroyer simultaneously.
The noise was considerable. The Destroyer was buried under what appeared to be three cars, a support beam, two lampposts, and something that might have been a generator.
It would get out. But it would take a moment.
Ethan turned back to Thor.
"You were saying."
Thor was looking at the pile of vehicles. He refocused. "Yes. The hammer. It is my partner, my companion through countless battles. No one else can wield it — this is the nature of Asgardian artifacts. They choose their masters."
"You can't lift it right now," Ethan said.
Thor's expression did something complicated. "That is... a temporary condition. The point is—"
"The point," Ethan said, "is that you are a god of thunder. Not a god of hammers. I've told you this before."
"The hammer helps me—"
"Channel what's already in you," Ethan said. "I know. Odin gave it to you because you needed a focusing mechanism. The power is yours. The hammer is a tool." He paused. "Also — and I say this as someone who has done research — more people can lift that hammer than you think."
Thor's eyebrows came together. "That is not—"
"Your sister," Ethan said. "Your father. A man named Steve Rogers who practices with it in his off hours. And."
He turned to face the stretch of desert where the hammer had landed three days ago.
He extended his right hand.
For a moment nothing happened, and then the ground in the distance trembled slightly, and then something came off it, and then the trajectory resolved itself.
Mjolnir arrived in Ethan's hand with the solid, conclusive weight of something that had decided to be there.
Thor stared.
He stared for a long time.
"That," he said, "is a hallucination."
"It isn't."
"You are a sorcerer. You've created an illusion. The hammer is still in the ground."
"It isn't," Ethan said.
"Prove it. Give it back."
Ethan considered the hammer in his hand — the weight of it, the specific texture of something that had opinions about who held it. It was heavier than it looked. It was also, he had to admit, not as heavy as its reputation suggested.
He handed it to Thor.
Thor grabbed it.
The hammer hit the ground with the sound of something resolving a question that had been open for three days.
Thor stood over it, both hands wrapped around the grip, everything he had in the effort.
The hammer did not move.
He let go. He straightened. He looked at the crater and then at Ethan with the expression of a man whose model of the universe has just been revised without his consent.
From behind Ethan, Tony said: "So there's a list. Of people who can lift it. And you're on the list but Thor isn't."
"Currently," Ethan said.
"That seems like important information," Tony said. "Probably should have led with that."
"It's a very ordinary hammer," Ethan said.
"This hammer," Thor said, with the wounded dignity of someone who has just been told their irreplaceable heirloom is available at most hardware stores, "is not ordinary. It is Mjolnir! Forged in the heart of a dying star! Wielded by the gods of Asgard for a thousand years! It is—"
"A focusing tool," Ethan said pleasantly. "For lightning you already have."
"It is the most powerful weapon in the nine realms—"
"The Eternal Spear is right there in Odin's vault," Ethan said. "Also the Casket of Ancient Winters. Also the Eternal Flame. The hammer is maybe fourth? Fifth if you count the Infinity Gauntlet, which is arguable."
Thor opened his mouth.
"Don't," Tony said, not unkindly. "I've had this conversation with him. There's no winning it. He always has more information than you expect and he uses it calmly."
The Destroyer erupted from the vehicle pile with the patience of something that was built to complete a task and had not completed it yet. It turned its face panel toward them.
Ethan looked at it, then at Thor, then at the hammer sitting in its crater.
"You're going to pick that up," Ethan said.
"I have already tried—"
"You're going to try again," Ethan said. "In approximately thirty seconds. And it's going to work."
Thor looked at him.
"How do you know that?"
"Because," Ethan said, "you just walked up to a five-meter war machine with no armor, no weapon, and no powers and told it to take you instead of your friends." He tilted his head. "The hammer has opinions about that kind of thing."
Thor was quiet.
The Destroyer's beam charged.
Ethan blocked it again.
"Thirty seconds," he said. "Go."
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