Chapter 219: The Mysterious Thug

The Qiankun Circle—an artifact of immense power. Its essence lay in its connection to the balance of heaven and earth: Qi representing the heavens and Kun symbolizing the earth. The blueprint described it as a mystical weapon capable of harmonizing the energy within the wearer, while simultaneously suppressing any demonic or unstable influences.

Thor was familiar with the artifact's origin from a movie he had watched long ago. Unlike traditional mythology, the film portrayed relationships and dynamics in a refreshingly different light—such as the heartfelt bond between Li Jing and Nezha or the poignant friendship between Nezha and Aobing. But what captivated Thor the most was the Qiankun Circle's unique role in managing Nezha's uncontrollable power. Whenever the magic pill's influence overtook him, Nezha would lose all self-control, becoming a destructive force of nature.

The parallels between Nezha's plight and Jean Grey's struggle with the Phoenix Force were too similar to ignore.

After a brief consultation with Doctor Strange, Thor decided to act. He took Jean Grey and made haste to Nidavellir, the legendary forge of the dwarves. The Qiankun Circle was, in essence, a straightforward creation, requiring no inherent offensive capabilities. For the master smiths of Nidavellir, crafting such an artifact was no significant challenge, especially with the detailed blueprint Thor had brought along. Still, the Dwarf King, Eitri, went above and beyond, adding rare and precious materials to enhance the Circle's effectiveness.

The final touch was a subtle but invaluable modification: the artifact could transform into an unassuming bracelet when not in use.

Thor smirked at the thought. While practical, he couldn't imagine asking Jean to wear what resembled a dog collar around her neck every day. The image alone was far too absurd—and borderline inappropriate.

When the forging was complete, Thor presented the Qiankun Circle to Jean Grey.

"Well?" Thor asked, his tone expectant. "How does it feel?"

Jean's eyes lit up as she felt the artifact's calming influence take hold. For the first time in what seemed like forever, the chaotic storm of energy within her was quiet. A weight she hadn't realized she carried was suddenly lifted.

"This… this is incredible!" Jean exclaimed, her voice trembling with relief. "I feel so relaxed. I don't have to suppress the power inside me anymore. I don't have to constantly worry about losing control and hurting someone…"

Her excitement was infectious, but as Thor fastened the Qiankun Circle around her neck, Jean hesitated. For a moment, her expression shifted to one of bewilderment, then embarrassment.

Thor caught her glance and immediately understood.

"Wait," he stammered, "you're not seriously thinking—! No! This is not some… weird hobby of mine!"

Jean's cheeks flushed, and her eyes grew watery. She quickly realized her mistake, her emotions betraying her gratitude. Thor had no reason to go to such great lengths for her. Yet he had traveled across worlds, enduring countless challenges, to find a solution to her problem. For someone like Jean, who had experienced little love or care growing up, the gesture struck deeply.

Seeing the look in her eyes, Thor felt a mix of pride and unease. He jokingly thought to himself, Am I not just a Dragon Knight? Maybe it's time to consider becoming a Phoenix Knight too.

Clearing his throat, Thor shifted the mood. "Remember," he said firmly, "this artifact doesn't just suppress your power—it also limits it. When you need to unleash your full strength, chant this incantation, and the Circle will transform into a bracelet. It'll allow you to access your power while maintaining control."

Jean nodded solemnly. "I understand. I'll be careful."

With the Phoenix Force now subdued, Thor allowed himself a moment of relaxation. He took Jean on a leisurely tour of various realms, enjoying her company. However, while Thor and Jean reveled in their newfound peace, the world they left behind—especially the United States—was descending into chaos.

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The political situation in the United States had reached its breaking point. Most top officials had been removed or incapacitated, leaving a void of power at the federal level. As a federation, the country already struggled with cohesion. Now, without leadership from Washington, each state and region pursued its own agenda. Internal political factions vied for dominance, civil unrest flared, and external threats like Wakanda exploited the disarray. Bombings and raids became commonplace.

Adding to the turmoil, terrorist groups seized the opportunity to strike. Decades of U.S. interventionist policies had earned the country a long list of enemies, and Eric's manipulative hand stoked the fires of conflict worldwide. In war-torn regions, oppressed peoples now saw the United States as the source of their suffering, their failures, and their pain.

Under the weight of both internal strife and external hostility, the nation began to falter. Many compared the situation to the collapse of another superpower at the end of the previous century. The similarities were haunting.

In times like these, the world longed for heroes—figures of strength and clarity who could lead the way out of despair.

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"Boom!"

The deafening roar of an explosion shattered the tense silence of an upscale New York hotel.

Gunfire erupted in a relentless barrage, punctuated by screams of panic and the cold, mechanical commands of heavily armed attackers.

"Move! Clear out all non-essentials!"

The hotel, normally a sanctuary for the elite, was under siege. Its residents—protected by private security forces with live ammunition—had once believed themselves untouchable. But in a nation teetering on collapse, no place was truly safe.

These weren't ordinary rioters. The attackers were well-trained, well-equipped, and disturbingly precise in their movements. They operated with a level of coordination and firepower typically seen only in elite military units.

Inside one of the conference rooms, several small political groups had gathered. With the major parties in shambles, these factions saw an opportunity to seize control of the nation's future. Yet, just as their discussions began, the assault commenced.

A grim realization dawned on the captives. This wasn't a random attack. The mob was here for them.

The group's leader stepped forward, his expression cold and mocking as he surveyed the bound and terrified politicians. "You should've stayed in your comfortable little corners," he sneered. "Power was never yours to take. You're all too greedy for your own good."

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