On the other end of the line, Thor's booming laugh was replaced by an awkward silence, followed by a slight, hesitant note of embarrassment.
"Do you even know what my life has been like lately, Arthur? Believe me, it's a story you wouldn't even want to hear."
Arthur chuckled, a low sound of understanding.
"Alright, I can pretty much imagine it. So, let me guess, because of all that, you're starting to suspect that the man sitting on the throne… isn't your father anymore?"
"If it were him, then no matter the trial, I would endure it willingly," Thor replied, the sincerity in his voice cutting through the space between them. "But I don't know why, something just feels profoundly wrong. That's why I avoided using Asgard's usual channels. I was afraid of drawing the attention of… the wrong people. I needed to reach out in secret this time. I'm hoping you can help me investigate and find the truth."
Arthur sighed, scrubbing a hand over his tired face.
"So, in other words, you have no solid evidence. You want me to do the heavy lifting and confirm it for you?"
"Yes."
Thor's voice was steady now, filled with a renewed sense of purpose.
"Out of all my companions, you are the only one I trust completely. And, frankly… You are also the only one truly capable of doing it."
Arthur couldn't stop the slight roll of his eyes, even though Thor couldn't see it.
"…It's that last part that's really the truth, isn't it?"
Then, his voice turning serious, he dropped the pretense.
"Your suspicion is correct. The one sitting there is not Odin; it is Loki. And I have known that from the very beginning."
If Thor had still been utterly clueless, Arthur might have hesitated, letting the God of Thunder figure it out on his own. But since Thor had already started asking questions, there was no longer any reason to hide it.
The entire situation had never been about simple deception; Odin himself had orchestrated this trial for Thor's development and growth. And now, it seemed those arduous lessons were finally bearing fruit… even if it was just the big oaf finally realizing he should use his brain after being bullied for so long.
But in any case, the fact that he was thinking at all was progress.
So Arthur laid out the entire sequence of events plainly.
Thor remained silent for a long moment, processing the bombshell. Then, a crack of uncertainty returned to his tone.
"Wait… you said… I am your most trusted person?"
"Mm. Odin knows that too," Arthur confirmed.
"Father?" Thor's tone suddenly shifted, filled with a rush of life and frantic emotion. "What happened to him? Tell me everything!"
Arthur sighed again and recounted the full story, from the moment Loki took the throne to Odin's current, fragile state, leaving nothing out.
He explained Odin's condition: how his body was weakening day by day, his life-flame flickering like a dying torch. Frigga was by his side, watching over him. Loki may have seized the throne, but he no longer held any true, lasting control.
And the reason no one had told Thor… was because Odin wanted his son to experience hardship, to temper his impulsiveness and learn what it truly meant to be king.
The stolen throne would eventually return to its rightful heir, but everyone hoped that the one to reclaim it would be a wise and mature king, not a hot-headed boy acting purely on gut instinct.
After absorbing every word, Thor was silent for an age that stretched across the stars.
Arthur finally broke the quiet with a gentle sigh.
"I know. In all of this, my part was probably the least honorable. As your friend, I should have told you earlier. I had no right to make choices that shaped your future. But… "
"I understand," Thor interrupted, his voice surprisingly gentle and controlled. "For you, this must have been a difficult choice too. I can imagine how torn you must have been. Truly, all I can say now is… thank you. Thank you for helping my father, for giving him such peace in his final days. He is already tired, I do not want my troubles to bring him more pain or sorrow. I just…"
Thor's voice hitched, trembling with raw, unspoken emotion.
"I just want to see him one last time. Please, can you make that happen?"
The plea was so sincere, so utterly devoid of rage or posturing, that no one, not even Arthur, the pragmatist, could refuse.
Arthur nodded firmly.
"I will help you."
"Good." Thor let out a deep, stabilizing breath. "So, what then is your plan for Loki?"
Arthur leaned back slightly, thinking for a moment before replying.
"For the time being, I have a long-term plan in mind, one I've never actually put into motion. Now that you know the truth, it changes things. When the time is right, you will return to Asgard. It is your home, and you still need to take responsibility for what is yours. Once everything stabilizes, I still have a major use for Loki. But until then, I need you to stay calm. When you return, do not go charging in and ripping his mask off immediately. That would put me in a very difficult position."
"Understood… Please, send my sincerest regards to my father," Thor said quietly. "I don't think I can keep talking right now. I need some time, to sort myself out."
Arthur nodded, the solemnity reflected in his own expression.
"May all go well with you, my friend."
"You too."
After the transmission ended, Arthur rubbed his face gently. Living in this complicated world, he thought, there were always hard truths that couldn't be avoided.
Different minds clashed, different perspectives collided, and as a result, everyone ended up playing their unique, sometimes reluctant, role in some corner of the grand design.
This, in the end, was the intricate, messy web of reality itself, inescapably real, and stubbornly human.
Arthur sighed. What truly comforted him in all this… was Thor's response.
The recent trials had clearly not been in vain. The fact that Thor didn't immediately fly back to Asgard in a fit of righteous fury was the clearest proof of his immense, hard-won growth.
"Let's hope… everything turns out well."
He stood up, there were still other matters he needed to take care of.
As he stepped out of his room, the Mark Series unit floated silently to his side. While walking, Arthur issued a series of crisp instructions:
"Erase all records of the last ten minutes' communication frequencies. Delete the entire log of the conversation we just concluded. Disable both the defense and isolation systems. Also, prepare a clean meeting space for me, I am expecting a guest."
"Yes, sir," Mark Series's calm, synthetic voice responded. "Please turn right, it is the first room on your left. The room will remain available for as long as you require."
Arthur offered a faint, fleeting smile and pushed open the door. Inside was a spacious, sparsely furnished lounge, with a simple bowl of fresh fruit placed neatly on the table.
He sat down on the sofa and then connected to Mark Series again through his wrist comm.
"Set up an optical barrier around this meeting room, one tight enough that not even a fly could get out. But make sure it carries no destructive or lethal capability whatsoever."
"Understood," Mark Series's voice confirmed. "The barrier is now active."
Only then did Arthur wave his hand, and two figures materialized from the void of his Disassembler Space.
But after watching them flail and stumble for about thirty seconds, Arthur could only rub his temples helplessly. Their physical constitutions might be extraordinary, but they were clearly not trained agents used to sudden dimensional jumps.
He sighed.
"Honestly…"
Then, resignedly, he stepped forward to try and wake his unconscious guests up himself.