"Thor, God of Thunder? No, Thor, God of Hamrs!"
Hearing Hawkeye's snark, Thor's face darkened. That damn mortal, Lucas. How dare he give the mighty God of Thunder such a ridiculous nickna.
When I regain my power, I will find him and teach him a lesson in respect.
Fury and Coulson tried to hide their smiles. It was funny because it was true. A Thunder God who relied entirely on a hamr... was basically just a guy with a very nice tool.
Thor ignored them. He approached the pedestal.
"Mjolnir, my old friend," Thor whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "At last, we are reunited."
He reached out. His hand closed around the handle. He prepared for the surge of lightning. The rush of power. The return of his glory.
He pulled.
...
Nothing.
The hamr sat there, heavy and silent.
The silence stretched. It was awkward. Like, "fart in an elevator" awkward.
Thor laughed nervously. "Ah. It seems... it's having a bit of a mood swing."
"Co on, darling," Thor muttered, gripping it with both hands. "Don't embarrass in front of the mortals."
He pulled again. He gritted his teeth. Veins popped on his forehead.
Still nothing.
"Impossible!" Thor shouted, panic rising in his chest.
Fury exchanged a glance with Coulson. Is this part of the script?
They expected lightning. They expected a transformation sequence. They expected a heavy tal soundtrack.
Instead, they got a man struggling with a paperweight.
"Is he... a fake?" Hawkeye whispered.
"No," Fury shook his head. "He looks exactly like the guy in the video. Except maybe the hair isn't quite as... conditioned."
"So what's the problem?"
Thor tried everything. He pulled. He pushed. He braced his foot against the rock. He begged. He pleaded.
Finally, he collapsed, sitting in the mud with a look of utter defeat.
"I am... truly unworthy," Thor whispered, his voice cracking.
He realized now. The banishnt wasn't just a location change. It was a soul change. His father had locked the hamr, and Thor didn't have the key.
"Uh, Thor?" Fury stepped forward cautiously. "Can I call you Thor?"
Thor waved a dismissive hand. He didn't care about titles anymore. He was just a failure in a flannel shirt.
"Thor," Fury asked gently. "Why is this happening? According to the myths, this is your weapon. Why did it fall? And why can't you lift it?"
Fury played dumb, hoping to get the full story. He knew about the banishnt from the diary, but hearing it from the source was better intel.
"If you don't want to say, that's fine," Fury added, playing the 'understanding uncle' card. "But if this hamr stays here, it's going to attract attention. Dangerous attention."
"And frankly," Fury lied, "we can't protect it forever."
Thor sighed. He looked at the unmoving hamr.
"It is... complicated," Thor admitted. "I started a war. With Jotunheim."
"I thought I could crush the Frost Giants," Thor confessed, his voice heavy with regret. "I thought I could be like my father. A conqueror. A King."
"But I failed. I led my friends into a trap. My father had to save us."
"We argued. He called vain. Greedy. Cruel."
"He stripped of my power," Thor looked at his mortal hands. "And he cast out."
"He said... 'Whosoever holds this hamr, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor.'"
"I guess," Thor choked back a sob, "I am not worthy."
Fury nodded slowly. The pieces fit. The "arrogant prince" narrative. The "tough love" lesson from Odin.
"Jotunheim," Fury noted ntally. "Frost Giants. Another threat to add to the list."
"So," Fury said aloud. "You tried to start a war you couldn't finish. And your dad grounded you."
"Essentially," Thor grunted.
"Well," Fury stood up. "That explains the hamr. But it doesn't solve our problem."
"What problem?" Thor asked.
"The problem," Fury pointed at the sky, "is that if you're not Thor... who is going to protect us from whatever cos next?"
As if on cue, thunder rumbled in the distance. But it wasn't the hamr.
It was sothing else.
Sothing... chanical.
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