Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Hammer of the Thunder God

Thor was walking along the road when a black van pulled up beside him. The door slid open, revealing Dr. Erik, Jane, and the others inside.

"Get in!"

Once inside, Thor noticed a stranger seated next to him. The man extended his hand and said, "I'm Arthur Curry, King of the Seas here on Midgard. It's an honor to meet you, Thor, God of Thunder."

Thor glanced at Arthur, shook his hand, and asked, "Are you from Atlantis?"

"You could say that. There's Atlantean blood in my veins," Arthur replied.

Asgard knew of the Atlantean kingdom on Midgard. In the distant past, during the war between Asgard and the Titans, the sea god Poseidon fell on Midgard. Where he perished, a nation called Atlantis was born...

The other three in the car listened to their conversation, all thinking the same thing: Another lunatic! Atlantis, really? Why not claim to be from Themyscira while you're at it?

Arthur led them to the site of the "fallen satellite" and, after a brief exchange with Coulson, suggested that Thor try to lift the hammer of thunder.

At that moment, thunder rolled across the sky, lightning streaking overhead as if heralding an imminent downpour. Thor glanced up at the heavens, a smile playing at his lips.

"Watch closely!" he declared with haughty confidence, striding toward the hammer with an air of divine entitlement. Arthur covered his face, the scene almost too much to bear.

Don’t speak too soon, Arthur thought. In a moment, you’ll only embarrass yourself.

Everyone watched as Thor approached the hammer. Nearby, a bald man with glasses reported, "The hammer is emitting a massive electromagnetic surge!"

"Keep monitoring," Coulson instructed.

Arthur threw the bald man a mysterious smile and said, "Keep at it. You have a bright future ahead." The man looked puzzled, not understanding Arthur’s meaning.

Thor gazed down at the hammer, a proud smile on his face. He reached out his right hand to grasp the hilt. "Come, my old friend!"

He pulled, but it didn’t budge. The smile vanished. With both hands, he strained with all his might, but the hammer remained utterly immovable. No matter how much force he used, he could not lift Mjolnir.

Thor threw back his head and howled in despair, kneeling before the hammer as anguish wracked his face. Staring at Mjolnir, he whispered, "Father, is this the punishment you meant for me? I know I was wrong..."

Arthur approached, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. "This is Odin's test. Once you understand, you’ll be able to lift it again."

"Truly?" Thor asked, looking up at Arthur.

Arthur nodded.

Seeing Thor sitting silently on a bench, Arthur said to the three scientists, "He’s very low right now. Give him a moment—he’ll be all right."

Coulson glanced at Thor's dejected figure and asked Arthur, "Are you sure he’s really the God of Thunder? He doesn’t seem that special."

Arthur nodded. "He simply hasn’t worked it out yet. But events will unfold—he’ll rediscover himself and reclaim his power."

"What events?" Coulson pressed, but Arthur only smiled enigmatically and said nothing.

The rain fell heavier and heavier. Thor sat alone on the bench, lost in misery, feeling certain his father had given up on him.

"Thor?"

He looked up to find someone standing before him. "Loki?" It was indeed his brother.

"What are you doing here?" Thor asked.

"Father is dead," Loki said, the words stunning Thor.

"You broke the peace of the realm. I pleaded with Father for your sake, but he would not relent. Now the burden of kingship falls to me," Loki continued.

"Can I come home?" Tears welled in Thor’s eyes.

"Your exile was one of the terms for the armistice. Mother agreed as well. I must go. Farewell, brother!" Loki said, then turned and left.

Arthur, observing from the shadows, made no move to expose Loki’s lie. After Loki departed, Arthur approached Thor. "Come, let’s go have a drink."

Arthur called Dr. Erik, and the three of them drove into town to a bar.

...

Inside the dimly lit bar, neon lights flickered as crowds came to drink away their troubles. Seated at the counter, Thor gulped down beer, saying to his companions, "I know now that I was wrong—wrong about everything! I regret all I’ve done."

Dr. Erik offered comfort. "Recognizing your mistakes means you’re already on the right path."

Thor spoke in anguish. "For over a thousand years, this is the first time I’ve had no idea where I belong!"

Arthur clapped him on the shoulder. "This ordeal has truly made you grow. Don’t despair. Your father isn’t dead—he’s only sleeping."

Surprised, Thor looked up at Arthur. "Really? How do you know?"

"I know many things. In fact, I know your friends will soon come looking for you," Arthur replied, his tone mysterious.

"Really? Wonderful! Father is alive! That’s wonderful!" Thor’s sorrow evaporated, replaced by pure joy.

"Don’t celebrate too soon," Arthur warned. "Loki has always envied you, and he carries the blood of the Frost Giants. He won't let you return to Asgard."

"What? Loki is a Frost Giant? Impossible!" Thor was incredulous.

"Enough," Dr. Erik interrupted. "I don’t care if this ‘Asgard’ of yours is real or not. Meeting each other is fate. Come, let’s drink!"

"Thank you, Doctor. And thank you, Jane and Daisy. I’m truly glad to have met you all. Cheers!"

The three clinked their beers together.

They drank and laughed late into the night, Thor regaling them with tales from Asgard. It was clear that Dr. Erik couldn’t hold his liquor—after a few glasses, he was out cold.

Thor looked at Arthur and smiled wryly. "Let’s go home. I’ll carry him."

Hoisting Dr. Erik onto his back, Thor joined Arthur as they drove back to their camp.

Sitting by the campfire, Thor and Jane talked quietly. Arthur looked on, sighing, "Ah, to be young! When will I meet the one destined for me?"

"As if you’re not young yourself! Want me to set you up?" Hawkeye appeared beside Arthur without warning.

"You? All you know are S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Don’t tell me you mean Natasha?" Arthur asked.

"And what’s wrong with Natasha? Isn’t she beautiful?" Barton teased.

"Don’t joke—she’s stunning, but do you think I don’t know her story? If you introduced me to Maria Hill, I might consider it," Arthur replied.

"Oh, so that’s your type? Don’t worry, I’ll talk to her when we get back," Barton promised.

"No! Please don’t! I was only joking. I haven’t met the person I like yet, but I do envy your happy family—soon you’ll have a baby boy," Arthur changed the subject.

"Really? I thought you were just making that up last time," Barton said, intrigued.

"Care to make a bet? If I win, you have to invite me to dinner at your place," Arthur challenged.

"Deal. Win or lose, you’re welcome at my home," Barton replied.

"It’s a promise!"

"A promise!"