Marvel's FBI?

"Who tricked you?! I was actually captured by a terrifying guy back then, okay?! I was locked in a magic-suppression cell for an entire year!"

Loki flared up the second Thor accused him.

Sure, he'd played "The Wolf Is Coming" on his brother plenty of times before—and yeah, he probably wasn't done doing it in the future.

But the one time he sent a real distress signal across the freaking galaxy?

He was serious.

Who would go through all the trouble of interstellar communications just to prank their own himbo brother?

"And you didn't even come to save me! We're the ones who saved you!"

Dante found Loki's expression a bit too bitter this time.

The moment Thor received that distress signal, even if his brain told him it was probably just another trick…

His body didn't hesitate.

He flew straight from Asgard to Midgard. No second-guessing. No delay.

Because deep down, he was terrified something had really happened to his brother.

That's love.

Dante looked away, expression twisted in a rare moment of emotional awkwardness.

Goddamn it… now I'm shipping them.

Thor x Loki — brothers, idiots, and emotionally stunted tsundere types.

Thor, oblivious to the silent fanboying, continued grumbling at Loki:

"You were imprisoned for a year? In a magic suppression cage? Then look at me! I've been locked in this place for a whole year too!"

"Surrounded by fifty overlapping divine suppression magic circles! I could only muster up just enough power to resonate with Mjolnir at 10 PM every day. Barely enough to nudge it outside the damn circle!"

"And you, my brother—one of the most powerful magic users in the Nine Realms—how am I not supposed to think you set me up!?"

Dante pieced it together.

Thor came to Midgard to save someone… and got trapped himself.

For a year, he sat in that prison, convinced that the betrayal came from his own brother.

And now? Finally seeing Loki again—and learning he really had called for help?

That stupid thunder dumbass was secretly thrilled.

He was still yelling, but Dante could feel it.

Thor's joy was practically radiating off him, even with just shorts on.

Thanks to the Ancestral Green Lantern Ring, even if Dante could only wield Will Green Light, he'd gained passive awareness of emotions—especially tsundere ones.

So of course, Dante's brain immediately swiveled to Hela.

If tsundere is a family trait… then what kind of black-hole emotional damage package is she hiding?

Meanwhile, the tall Asgardian Queen was crouched over the magic array Dante had wrecked.

"Divinity suppression, magic dampening, physical weakening, nightmare recursion…"

"How is it?" Dante asked. "Find anything fun?"

"Other than the divine suppression seal, the rest are standard fare. Nothing unusual. But this divine countermeasure array… even this blonde fool could've escaped if that wasn't here."

"I don't know who made it—but I guarantee it wasn't crafted by a magician. This came from something higher."

Hela stood up and walked toward Dante...

And once again, stepped directly on Thor's butt as she passed.

This time, Thor was awake.

"Hey! You—woman! You're being rude! I am Thor Odinson, first son of Odin, the All-Father! The God of Thunder of Asgard! Future King!"

Hela stared at her clueless golden-haired brother and sighed.

"First son?" she scoffed. "Future King of Asgard? You think you're the first one to hear that lie?"

"What? What does that mean? Who even are you?!"

"My foolish little brother," Hela said darkly. "You know nothing, Thor Odinson."

---

"WHAT?! You mean you're my older sister?! Odin's first child?! The Commander of Asgard's Army?! Crown Prince?! That's heresy, Loki! Don't lie to me!"

"Hmph. Looks like peace made Odin lazy. He actually raised an heir this… dumb. He really is getting old."

Hela examined Thor's dumbfounded face like it was a historical artifact she didn't understand.

She'd known warriors like him—brave, straightforward, emotionally sincere.

She liked that type.

But to put that type on the throne?

Asgard would collapse in a month.

To her, Thor—at least this version—didn't have the heart or mind to be a king.

"Shut up! Even if you are my sister, I won't let you insult Odin!"

Thor staggered to his feet, still weakened, and raised a trembling hand toward the ceiling.

Dante saw that movement and casually side-stepped out of hammer range.

This moron never looks when he calls Mjolnir.

Besides—Thor's not the only one with a claim.

Right now, his previous hammer owner was standing right there.

And speaking of Mjolnir...

Dante suddenly remembered something.

There were still three idiots outside waiting to be thrown into the Bureau's lockup.

No one was guarding them, sure.

But between exhaustion, trauma, and Dante's casual threats, they were probably still where he left them.

"Hey. Go grab the others," Dante said, jerking his chin at Loki. "Also, round up the three criminals outside."

Loki nodded and walked back through the portal to retrieve Wanda, Pietro, and Harley Quinn.

As the portal closed behind them, Mjolnir—a war hammer forged from the core of a dying star—cut through the air like a divine missile.

It flew straight toward one golden-haired man in shorts.

Thor reached out, fingers trembling.

He was just inches away.

If he grasped Mjolnir, Odin's seal would instantly reactivate. His divine powers would surge back in full.

It would be like watching Hela step on Asgard's soil—instantly restoring her peak might.

For Thor, Mjolnir wasn't just a weapon.

It was a limiter, a crutch, and a full-stack resurrection item rolled into one.

But…

A slender, pale hand reached out first—and grabbed the hammer mid-air.

Thor's lips froze mid-smile.

(To be continued.)

***

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