31

In the past, tales were told of heroes performing incredible feats of strength. Now, in the modern world, there was an Asgardian prince who found himself unable to even lift his own hammer, left with nothing but to gaze skyward and cry out in frustration.

Coulson watched the man kneeling in the crater, a hint of disappointment in his eyes. The origin of the hammer was mysterious, and even SHIELD, which had taken over the site, did not fully understand its true function. If anyone could lift the hammer, perhaps they would finally understand it. But now, it seemed the man was just another challenger.

Coulson picked up his walkie-talkie and ordered, "Alright, the show is over. Ground teams, move in."

From his vantage point, Hawkeye—Clint Barton—put away his bow and arrows. The troops advanced toward the crater.

Thor stared blankly at his hammer. In that moment, he understood he had truly been abandoned. Even his own weapon had forsaken him. The proud prince knelt in the mud, rainwater soaking his knees, his spirit crushed. He did not resist as the ground troops handcuffed him. He simply looked at the hammer, lost in despair.

"Disappointing," someone muttered.

Coulson was about to interrogate the man who had made his elite team look like mall security guards when he heard a voice beside him.

"When did you get here?" Coulson asked in surprise.

"I have been here all along," John replied calmly, as if there were nothing remarkable about it. He shrugged and stood beside Coulson. "I thought he could lift it, but it seems he is not worthy."

"Worthy?" Coulson caught the word and quickly pressed, "Worthy for what? And you cannot just wander around here!"

"Don't be so stingy, Coulson," John replied, brushing off the reprimand. He turned and walked away. "Also, get me another cup of coffee."

Coulson was speechless. He was not John's servant, after all. But he also could not understand why Fury had given John such extraordinary freedom. John had access to information and authority on par with a level eight agent. Was it because of Watson Wick? This man was a mystery, appearing suddenly in New Mexico and inserting himself into SHIELD's business. Everything about him was confounding.

The rain gradually faded away, like waking from a strange dream. Thor now sat in a glass-walled interrogation room, his posture slumped as if his spine had been removed.

"Damn it," Thor muttered.

He looked up slightly when he heard movement and saw John, also seated, sipping coffee.

"Want a cup?" John offered, raising his mug. "I am not sure if you like this stuff. We call it coffee."

"No, but thank you for your kindness," Thor replied, his voice hollow. He would have preferred beer, but even the finest Asgardian brew would have tasted like ash to him now. He hung his head, hopeless.

"Alright," John said, unconcerned. He glanced up as Coulson approached and remarked, "Your interrogator is here."

Coulson, returning from drying his clothes, saw John inside. He turned to the bald agent beside him. "Didn't you ask him to leave?"

The agent replied, "Sorry, sir. He refused."

Coulson shook his head. John now had as much authority as he did, and there was nothing to be done about it.

Coulson entered, straightened his suit, and stood across from Thor. He did not interrogate immediately but looked at John. "Are you sure you do not want to step out?"

John looked as if he were watching a play, idly rubbing his thumb along the white mug. "Do you not find this interesting?"

Seeing that John would not leave, Coulson turned his attention to Thor. "You made my men, the best-trained professionals in the world, look like the cheapest mall security guards."

"That is so hurtful," Thor replied softly.

John added, "That is true. I can guarantee SHIELD invests a lot in training every year."

Coulson took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to throw them both out. "From my experience, only someone with elite training could do what you did. Why not tell me where you learned to fight like that?"

He listed several countries, but Thor showed no reaction. In Coulson's mind, if this man was not the hammer's owner, he must have come for a reason—perhaps a mercenary hired to seize it. Regardless, anyone who could break through SHIELD's security was dangerous.

But Thor only remained silent.

Coulson's questioning led nowhere. He could not even get the man's name.

Just then, Coulson's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, exhaled, and said, "Stay here. Do not go anywhere." He left the room, leaving John and Thor alone.

Or rather, not quite alone. John sat drinking coffee, perfectly calm. In his eyes, a dark-haired man in a green suit jacket shimmered into view.

The man was confident, certain that no one could see through his magic of invisibility. But unfortunately for him, the Witch King of the magical world was in the room.

John watched as Thor grew agitated.

"Loki, what are you doing here?" Thor! he exclaimed, recognizing his brother.

"I had to see you," Loki replied, glancing at John, the supposed mortal. He had come to see his brother, but also to bring him complete despair.

Thor sensed something was wrong from Loki's heavy expression. Even in exile, the Asgardian prince cared deeply for his home. Was Jotunheim attacking Asgard? Was there war?

The once reckless prince who had advocated for war now faced the consequences of his own actions. Unable to lift Mjolnir, he was forced to confront his own recklessness.

"Let me explain to Father," Thor pleaded.

"Father is dead," Loki said quietly.

"What?" Thor could not believe it. Odin, the Allfather, dead? He thought of the war he had caused, and sadness and regret overwhelmed him.

Loki pressed on, his eyes shining with a mix of sorrow and satisfaction. "Your banishment and the threat of a new war… he could not bear it."

"Do not blame yourself; I know you loved him," Loki continued, twisting the knife. "I thought so too, but he would not listen."

Thor bowed his head in agony. Loki continued, "Knowing you can no longer lift the hammer but leaving it within your reach… that is cruel."

Even John, watching, wanted to applaud Loki's performance. Here was a god who wielded lies as skillfully as a blade, wounding his brother with every word.

John suddenly frowned, reaching for his heart. Something felt wrong. A coldness radiated from his chest, and the water outside the room began to frost over. His gaze locked on Loki.

After learning that Loki had become the new king of Asgard, Thor lost all desire to compete. He had only one question left. "Can I go home?"

Loki replied, "The truce with Jotunheim depends on your banishment."

Thor protested, "But there must be a way!"

"And Mother… you are not allowed to return," Loki finished, delivering the final blow. Even his mother had not forgiven him.

The weight of guilt for his father's death and the grief of his mother's rejection crushed the once-proud God of Thunder. Thor was pressed into the dirt, unable to rise.

"I am here to say goodbye, brother," Loki said. From beginning to end, Loki's lies had defeated Thor step by step.

"Farewell," Loki said, turning to leave. He paused, his pupils dilating. In the middle of summer, he exhaled a cloud of white breath.

As the adopted son of Odin, the child of the Frost Giant King Laufey, Loki was of pure royal blood. After discovering the secret, he had used the Casket of Ancient Winters to confirm it. When he activated his bloodline, his skin turned blue. Now, he looked down at his palm and saw a tinge of blue.

He turned quickly and met John's eyes. His heart pounded. Why would a mortal make him react like this? Their eyes met, and Thor's hammer, resting under SHIELD guard, began to vibrate. Far away in Asgard, Odin stirred in his sleep. Thor remained lost in grief.

Loki's face turned blue as he hurried away.

"Goodbye," Thor whispered, too late.

The door opened again, and Coulson entered, looking confused. "I just got back."

The meeting of the two brothers ended with Thor in utter despair. But for Loki, it seemed he had discovered something extraordinary.

"No, it is impossible," Loki muttered, his face uncertain. "Why is this happening?"

He had not been touched by the Frost Giants, and the Casket was still in Asgard's vault. Why would his Frost Giant bloodline activate now? It unsettled him. Everything should have been perfect, but something had gone wrong.

"That man…" Loki thought. John's image flashed in his mind. It was strange—this mortal gave him a different feeling, and he was certain the mortal had noticed him. Loki was the greatest sorcerer in the Nine Realms, yet he had been detected by a young wizard.

"He is getting close to Thor. What is his purpose? Will he help Thor?" Loki wondered, a shadow crossing his face. He resolved that he could not let anyone discover his true identity.

Back in the room, John turned to Thor. "So you trust him?"

Thor, still unsuspecting, insisted, "He is my brother. He would not lie about our father's death."

"A lie?" John laughed softly. "You are so naive."

Coulson, puzzled, asked, "What are you two talking about?"

John replied, "We were talking about your people showing up." He gestured outside.

Coulson looked back, and his agents opened the door, signaling for him to step out.