Sowhere in the sky, two figures suddenly plumted down from above, crashing heavily into the ground.
This was Tony Stark's first attempt at using the "Journey to What's Left" device—and while the outco could be considered a success, the process left much to be desired. The ride was far from smooth. The dinsional teleportation device he designed generated a gravitational impulse far greater than anticipated. The chaotic surge of energy had spun his body wildly; he nearly vomited inside his own armor.
Fortunately, they had reached their destination. Unfortunately, the hard landing left much to be desired. Stark's head slamd directly into the ground, leaving a sizable dent in the earth. Even now, his brain was spinning in a fog.
Thor had fared much better. At the very least, he stood steadily beside Stark, landing upright.
"Well, that trip was anything but comfortable," Stark muttered, shaking his head as he pushed himself off the ground. "But hey—we made it. This is Asgard, right, buddy?"
Thor didn't answer. He stood motionless, eyes fixed in disbelief on sothing in the distance, as if he had just witnessed sothing unimaginable. Stark, puzzled, followed his line of sight.
Not far away stood a golden, radiant throne. Seated upon it was a young man, grinning at them with a smug and taunting smile.
He wore golden robes, and on his head was a helt crowned with horns that looked like the antlers of a stag.
That man was Loki Odinson—the God of Tricks, the adopted son of Odin, and Thor's younger brother.
Thor blinked hard, shaking his head just to make sure he wasn't dreaming. But no, this wasn't an illusion. Everything before him was real.
The grand halls of Asgard's palace, once teeming with guards and courtiers, were eerily empty. No guards stood watch. No nobles walked the marble floors. Only Loki sat proudly on the throne that should have belonged to Odin. Besides Loki, only Stark and Thor remained in the vast space.
But the most troubling part? Loki held a weapon in his hand—Gungnir, the Eternal Spear.
This was Odin's weapon, a divine relic infused with imnse power. And now it was in Loki's grasp. A terrible thought crept into Thor's mind—had sothing happened to their father?
"Look at this," Loki said with a flourish, spinning Gungnir in his hand like a toy. "What a surprise to see you here… Brother. I thought you were trapped in Midgard for good."
He emphasized the word "brother" with unmistakable disdain and mockery, his tone soaked in ridicule.
"Brother?" Stark raised an eyebrow. "So, this guy's your sibling?"
"Yes," Thor replied, his voice tense. "Loki is my brother—but also a traitor, driven mad by his own ambition." As he spoke, he locked eyes with Loki, as though afraid he might vanish at any second.
"No, no, no, my dear brother," Loki said gleefully, not the least bit angry. "I rely reclaid what was rightfully mine. Isn't today a beautiful day?"
"What did you do to our father?" Thor roared, fury burning in his eyes as he stepped forward. Muscles tightened beneath his armor. If Loki uttered a single unforgivable word, Thor looked ready to strike him down where he sat.
"Oooh, how emotional," Loki taunted. "Still the sa impulsive idiot as ever, aren't you?"
He smirked, leaning forward with a whisper: "Father is doing just fine. He's simply… asleep for the mont."
Then Loki's expression darkened, his tone cold: "Though I may have added a little twist to ensure he never wakes up again."
Thor's heart sank.
The Odinsleep.
It was a periodic deep slumber that Odin entered to recover his power and extend his life. It typically occurred once a year, lasting about a week. During this ti, Odin was at his weakest—his powers depleted, his body vulnerable. If anyone wished to harm him, that was the mont.
Loki had clearly waited for that exact opportunity.
Thor's voice grew heavier, thick with restrained rage. "Loki. Stop this. It's not too late. If you surrender now, Father will forgive you."
Loki burst out laughing as if he had just heard the world's funniest joke.
"Forgive ?" he sneered. "Brother, please, don't be so stupid. Do you really think there's anything left to talk about?"
Thor had heard enough.
He raised teor hamr, the enchanted hamr now crackling with the power of thunder, and hurled it at the throne with deadly force.
Thor knew his brother well. From childhood, Loki had never been a physical match for him. Weak and frail by Asgardian standards, Loki only won fights through cunning, magic, and deception. In a direct confrontation, ten Lokis wouldn't last a second against the raw power of Thor's hamr.
But Thor had forgotten one crucial thing: Loki always had sothing up his sleeve.
And this ti, Loki didn't disappoint—he stunned Thor yet again.
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