Within the resplendent golden halls of Asgard—
In a chamber guarded heavily by elite warriors and attended by numerous handmaidens—
Lay a bed at the center of the room.
A radiant golden barrier enveloped it, brimming with dense magical energy. Life-force pulsed within, safeguarding the existence of the one resting inside.
And within that barrier…
Lay an old man.
Dressed simply, his face gentle and calm.
Suddenly—
A powerful surge of magical energy rippled outward.
The old man's eyes snapped open.
One eye shone with boundless wisdom, sharp and all-seeing—as if the entire cosmos was reflected within it.
The other…
Was nothing but a void.
A hollow abyss where an eye should have been.
"Thor!"
The old man—
Was Odin.
…
To temper his son, Odin had willingly entered the Odinsleep.
He had handed the reins of Asgard to his younger son, Loki—not out of carelessness, but design.
He wanted Thor to face hardship.
To struggle.
To suffer.
Only through such trials could he grow into a worthy king.
As for Loki?
If he could see through the illusion of power, then all would be well.
If not—
If he lost himself in it—
Then punishment would be inevitable.
At the very least, he would be imprisoned for thousands of years…
Until everything was settled.
Odin had been confident in his plan.
But now—
Something had gone wrong.
The enchantment he had placed upon Mjolnir…
Had been broken.
Someone else…
Had lifted the hammer.
And that—
Was never supposed to happen.
Midgard, in the eyes of Asgard, was backward. Primitive. Insignificant.
There shouldn't exist anyone there worthy of wielding Mjolnir.
"…So I really can lift it."
Back on Earth—
Peter stared at the hammer in his hand, astonishment evident even through the mask.
Lightning roared from the heavens, pouring into him through Mjolnir.
It replenished his stamina.
Healed his injuries.
Filled his body with raw, divine power.
And yet—
He was confused.
By all logic…
He shouldn't have qualified.
This had only been a test.
"…Is it because of Peter?"
Not himself.
But the original Peter Parker.
The one whose body he now inhabited.
He hadn't forgotten—
He was a transmigrator.
The original Peter might not have been fearless.
Might not have been legendary.
But—
He had always been selfless.
Always willing to help others.
And perhaps…
The combination of the two—
Was enough.
"…Doesn't matter."
Peter tightened his grip on the hammer.
Lightning crackled around him as he felt its power surge through his veins.
Then—
He made his decision.
"Alright, Altar… I want to sacrifice this hammer."
Mjolnir…
Was never truly his.
Even if he could wield it now—
It belonged to Thor.
To Odin.
To Asgard.
Not to Peter Parker.
At any moment, Odin could recall it.
Even without that—
If Thor called for it…
The hammer would never refuse.
At best—
They would share it.
And that—
Was unacceptable.
"Proceed with the plan."
"Sacrifice Mjolnir."
"You… what do you seek?"
The voice returned.
Standing within the altar's domain, Peter lifted his head and spoke without hesitation.
"Potential."
"Talent."
"Bloodline."
"Call it whatever you want—I want the foundation to become something greater."
Fighting Thor had made something clear to him.
He had power.
With telekinesis and enhanced physiology, he could stand against someone like Thor—a true powerhouse of the Marvel universe.
He had intelligence.
Sharper than ever before.
His ability to learn, create, innovate—
Far beyond what it once was.
The Spider Armor itself was proof—an amalgamation of technologies from multiple worlds.
He had knowledge.
Advanced science. Black technologies. Endless possibilities stored within his mind.
With enough time—
He could build a brilliant future with his own hands.
But—
He lacked something fundamental.
Foundation.
Accumulation.
Room to grow.
The key…
To push beyond his limits.
What was Thor's greatest asset?
Was it his courage?
His indomitable will?
No.
Human history was filled with warriors just as brave—if not more so.
Was it his power?
His weapon?
His golden hair?
Hardly.
His strength wasn't absolute.
His weapon wasn't invincible.
Strip everything away—
And what remained?
His bloodline.
The son of Odin.
The heir to the All-Father.
That—
Was his true strength.
Even if he did nothing—
Even if he simply existed—
He would one day become a warrior whose name echoed across the Nine Realms.
Because his blood…
Made him superior.
A human could train every day.
Push their body to the limit.
Sweat, bleed, struggle—
And still never reach Thor's level.
Because Thor was born above them.
…
On Earth, talent differences existed too.
Peter himself was more intelligent than most.
He could easily enter institutions like Harvard or MIT.
Tony Stark?
Graduated at seventeen.
That was talent.
But talent—
Could still be bridged with effort.
Bloodline?
That was different.
That gap…
Could not be closed.
So Peter chose.
If he wanted to go further—
If he wanted to break through the ceiling of humanity—
Then he needed something more.
Something fundamental.
Something…
That rewrote the rules.
And the altar—
Would give him that chance.
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T/N:
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