Before he could explain, the screen shimmered and shifted once more.
[The golden brilliance of Asgard faded, replaced by a stormy sky and the desolate, windswept landscape of Midgard. Thor now stood in the middle of a barren road, his magnificent armor gone, his crimson cape torn from his shoulders. His once-mighty physique, though still imposing, now looked strangely… mortal.
Then, like the wrath of the gods themselves, Mjolnir was ripped from his grasp.
"No—!" Thor's voice rang out in desperation, his fingers grasping at nothing as his weapon soared through the sky, encased in a vortex of golden energy. He lunged forward, but an unseen force yanked him back, slamming him to his knees before Odin's voice echoed in the heavens above.
"Thor Odinson, you are unworthy."
The words struck harder than any blow he had ever received. His breath hitched. His heart pounded. His father's words—final, resolute—carved through him with a weight unlike any battle, any war, any wound.
Then, as if the very world itself rejected him, a powerful force wrenched him from the Bifrost.
And he fell.
Fell like a star ripped from the heavens.
He crashed into the earth with a violent boom, dirt, and debris exploding outward, his once-mighty body now nothing more than a heap of limbs on the cracked ground. Groaning, dazed, and humiliated, he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees.
His blonde hair, always perfectly combed back in Asgard, now clung to his sweat-drenched forehead. His arms trembled. He felt weak.
And then—
HONK!
A blinding light. A deafening roar.
THWACK!
A station wagon slammed into him at full speed, sending him sprawling across the pavement with an almost comedic thud. The impact ripped the air from his lungs as he tumbled, rolling like a discarded doll before landing flat on his back. He stared up at the sky, blinking in disbelief.
What… had just happened?
His thoughts barely had time to settle before he heard the frantic voices of mortals—mortals!—scrambling toward him.
"Is he dead?!"
"He better not be! I don't have insurance for this!"
Thor groaned, barely lifting his head—
HONK!
Another set of blinding headlights.
THUMP!
The same car hit him again.
The impact sent him skidding across the asphalt like a skipping stone, his once-proud golden locks now tangled with dust and road grime. He coughed, wheezed, and rolled onto his side, pain shooting through every limb.]
This… this was not his grand arrival on Midgard. This was not the tale of the mighty Thor, the banished prince of Asgard.
This was…
Humiliating.
Laughter erupted through the grand hall of Asgard, rolling like thunder. It started with a few chuckles, then built into a full-blown cacophony of hysterical howling.
Warriors clutched their stomachs, some wiping tears from their eyes.
Even the normally reserved nobles had lost all composure, pounding their fists against tables as they gasped for breath.
Loki, the master of mischief himself, was trembling in his seat, his lips twitching violently as he fought a losing battle against his own amusement. Then, with a snort he couldn't contain, he completely lost it—throwing his head back and laughing so hard that he had to brace himself against the arm of his chair to keep from toppling over.
Odin, meanwhile, sat frozen on his throne, his face an unreadable mask of sheer disbelief. His one eye twitched ever so slightly, the veins in his temple subtly pulsing.
The All-Father, ruler of the Nine Realms, could not comprehend the utter buffoonery he had just witnessed. For a long moment, he simply stared ahead, as if hoping—praying—that the vision before him was some cruel illusion.
This was his son? This was the future King of Asgard?
"…Where," He finally muttered to himself, rubbing his temples, "…where did I go wrong…?"
Frigga, the ever-graceful Queen, let out a long, weary sigh. She pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head as if battling an invisible headache.
"I raised him better than this," She murmured, though no one could tell if she was trying to convince herself or the universe.
Hela, sitting to the side, slowly exhaled and rubbed her forehead.
"By Hel's flames… my little brother has suffered a traumatic head injury at some point in his life," She deadpanned. "That is the only explanation."
Loki finally managed to catch his breath, though his shoulders were still shaking. He wiped at his eyes, smirking as he turned toward Thor, who was currently the human embodiment of a ripe tomato.
"Oh, Thor," He cooed, his voice dripping with insufferable glee. "The mighty God of Thunder, felled not by a worthy foe, nor a grand battle, but by an overgrown cart—twice!"
The hall exploded into fresh laughter.
Thor's entire body went rigid, his jaw clenched so tightly it could crack the stone. His eyes darted around, searching desperately for anyone who would rescue him from this nightmare. But there was no escape—only the roaring mockery of his fellow Asgardians.
"W-Why is this being shown?!" He finally sputtered, his voice cracking slightly.
Seph, lounging comfortably as if this were his court, simply grinned and leaned forward. His eyes gleamed with unmistakable amusement.
"I thought it would be educational," He said, his tone maddeningly casual. "You know… an introspective journey into your future life events."
Thor groaned, burying his face in his hands. If the ground could swallow him whole right now, he would gladly let it.
But the main event had yet to come.
Just as Thor was beginning to recover from the sheer devastation of watching himself get flattened by a mortal vehicle—twice—the screen flared to life once more.
And then it happened.
[A dusty desert road beneath a star-strewn sky.
Thor stumbled forward, his shirt half-untucked, his movements sluggish and unsteady like a newborn deer. His hair was a tangled mess, strands of golden locks sticking in odd directions, his eyes glazed over with frustration and exhaustion.
A small group of humans stood before him, watching his pitiful approach with a mixture of curiosity and wariness.
Among them, a short brunette with a mischievous glint in her eye clutched a tiny black object in her hands.
But Thor paid them no mind.
No, his focus was singular.
His hand shot out dramatically, his voice booming with authority that no longer held any weight.
"You dare threaten the son of Odin?!"
The mortals exchanged looks.
Then—
A sharp, crackling noise.
A streak of blue light.
And then—
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!
A violent jolt of electricity shot through Thor's body, his mighty form convulsing as if he had been struck by his own lightning.
His eyes bulged. His limbs stiffened in the most undignified manner possible. His mouth opened in a silent scream, and for a glorious moment, he was nothing more than a giant, spasming fish flailing helplessly before collapsing face-first into the dirt.
Silence.
A long beat passed Darcy Lewis tilted her head, staring at the crumpled heap of muscle and blonde hair sprawled before her.
"What?" She shrugged. "He was freaking me out."]
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