Marvel: My Sign-in System

After that, there were no more arguments. Thor drank heavily and deftly steered the conversation toward lighter topics as he chatted with Sergei and the others.

This was precisely Wanda, Sergei, and Pietro's intention. Their plan was twofold: first, to secure Thor's friendship, and second, to learn what they could from him.

Wanda had read extensively at Kamar-Taj, including records about Asgard and the Nine Realms, but those were just written accounts. They couldn't compare to firsthand knowledge. Thor's long life and unique identity meant he had experienced and witnessed far more than most beings could imagine. He was a living repository of invaluable information.

Through Thor, Wanda learned about a gentle and benevolent god living on the galaxy's edge—a guardian of their realm. He also shared intimate knowledge of the Nine Realms and revealed secrets about the universe that had never been documented.

Jane Foster and Dr. Selvig listened intently, their initial wariness fading. Jane, in particular, set aside her earlier anger, eager to jot down Thor's revelations. Some of the details Thor casually mentioned could upend the scientific community and reshape humanity's understanding of the cosmos.

But time marched on, and even Thor, now in mortal form, could not withstand the effects of alcohol forever. After countless bottles of beer, he finally succumbed to drunkenness.

Thor's inebriation signaled the end of the night. Wanda, Sergei, and Pietro helped Jane carry the unconscious Thor to the sofa before saying their goodbyes.

Over the following days, Thor stayed at Jane's house. Sometimes, he wandered the town, taking in the sights. Other times, he stood alone on the rooftop, a bottle of beer in hand, gazing into the distance. His eyes always seemed to fix on the horizon—the direction of Mjölnir.

He had seen the news not long after meeting Wanda and her companions. His hammer had come to Midgard with him.

At first, Thor wanted to retrieve it immediately, to reunite with the weapon that symbolized his power. Yet, as he hesitated, Dr. Selvig's words echoed in his mind. Jane's anger and the truths spoken that night continued to haunt him.

Perhaps his father wasn't stubborn or foolish after all. Perhaps… he was the one who had been wrong.

Instead of rushing to Mjölnir, Thor chose to linger in the town. He observed the people around him—how they lived, how they loved. The townsfolk weren't wealthy, but they were warm-hearted and close-knit.

Thor's charisma made him a favorite among them. He chatted with the elderly woman next door, accepted Old John's invitation to a local beer-drinking contest (and promptly outdrank every competitor), and earned the cheers and admiration of everyone who attended.

In these days of quiet observation, Thor experienced something new: peace.

The little town was unlike the battlefields he'd known or the grand halls of Asgard. There was no bloodshed here, no war, no rebellion. Just families sharing meals, children laughing, and friends enjoying each other's company.

It reminded Thor of the happiness he'd once seen in Asgard, before the wars. And it made him think of the other realms and races he'd fought. Would he, as king one day, use war to achieve peace? Would he, in doing so, destroy the joy and warmth that others held dear?

Some lessons are best learned through experience.

Thor's banishment by Odin had filled him with anger, confusion, and resentment. But now, these feelings began to fade, replaced by something new: reflection. For the first time, Thor truly contemplated mercy and kindness.

One evening, storm clouds gathered in the sky. Thor stood on the rooftop, beer in hand, leaning against the railing as he watched the townsfolk below. Their laughter and chatter carried faintly through the air.

"Father… is this what you wanted me to see?" he muttered, his voice barely audible over the rising wind.

A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.

"It seems your life in the mortal world isn't so bad, my brother."

Thor turned sharply, and his eyes widened in recognition.

"Loki!" he exclaimed.

His younger brother stood behind him, his expression unreadable. Thor strode forward and embraced him, too elated to notice Loki's hesitation.

"Are you here to see me?" Thor asked, slapping Loki's back with enough force to make anyone else wince.

Loki's voice was measured, tinged with something Thor couldn't quite place. "Brother, you've changed. You're not the same as before."

"Maybe," Thor admitted, stepping back to look at Loki. "The mortal world… it's taught me a great deal. Father was right. I was reckless, arrogant, and proud."

Loki nodded slowly. "This transformation must not have been easy."

Thor chuckled softly. "No, it hasn't. But this little town—there's something magical about it. It's calmed me, made me rethink my mistakes."

"I'm glad to hear that," Loki said, though his tone betrayed a complexity of emotions. He paused, then asked, "How is Father?"

Thor's cheerful demeanor faltered. "What do you mean? Is he not well?"

Loki's next words hit Thor like a thunderbolt.

"Father… has entered his eternal sleep."

Thor froze. The bottle slipped from his hand, shattering on the rooftop. "What?" he whispered, his voice trembling.

"I'm sorry, brother," Loki said softly. "It happened yesterday. His mind had grown weary. He was angry and saddened, and under Mother's watchful gaze, he… closed his eyes for the last time."

Thor staggered back, his heart pounding. "No… it can't be… Did I—was it because of me?"

His voice broke as tears welled in his eyes. "Because of my stubbornness? My pride? My failure?"

"Father!"

Thor's cries echoed in the storm. Overcome with grief and regret, he clenched his fists so tightly that the broken shards of the bottle cut into his palm. Blood dripped onto the rooftop, but he barely noticed.

The physical pain was nothing compared to the anguish in his heart.

...

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