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Chapter 142 - TPM Chapter 147 – Compensation

The Drop-Wing sat half-buried in a dune, its scorched hull still hissing as the last of the heat bled off. The sand around it had fused into blackened glass where the re-entry trail had kissed the desert floor.

Luthar stood a few meters away, coat whipping in the dry wind, surveying the wreckage. His mechadendrites were already out, scanning the fractured plating and exposed servo housings. Behind him, Lily kicked at a melted stabilizer strut like it was an interesting beach find.

"Well," she said cheerfully, "the good news is… we didn't die. The bad news is… the stabilizers look like marshmallows someone left too close to a campfire."

Hephaestus stalked around the wreck, not in disbelief, but with a craftsman's restless ambition. "We should scrap this frame and rebuild it in Adamantite. Full hull plating, reinforced struts, triple the density. If a god's hammer hits it again, it'll just bounce."

Luthar's mechadendrites paused mid-scan. "We don't have the stockpile for that."

She frowned, calculating. "Then we go back. And this time, we take half a dozen mining units to dig the materials quickly."

Luthar's gaze drifted to the horizon, where divine energy shimmered faintly. "It's not the time to go back. First, we get compensation. But before that…"

He turned to Lily. "Shrink it so we can take it back to base. At least we can salvage critical components."

She perked up instantly, unclipping a small cylindrical device from her belt. With a flick of her wrist, the emitter glowed, releasing a wash of red light across the Drop-Wing. The ship shimmered, then collapsed inward like paper folding in on itself, the bulk shrinking to the size of a suitcase. Lily bent down, picked it up easily, and gave it a spin in her hands like a toy.

"Gotta admit," she said, "Pym Particles make clean-up way easier than calling a tow truck."

Luthar ignored her levity. His eyes were fixed on the distant shimmer of divine energy. Without a word, one of his mechadendrites split open, releasing a cluster of insectile scarabs. Their carapaces gleamed with bronze and steel, eyes glowing faint red as they skittered across the sand before burrowing out of sight.

"Track the energy," he murmured. "I want to know his every movement."

Only then did his mechadendrites fold back with precise mechanical clicks. "We're done here. Prepare for displacement."

A jagged flash split the air, reality buckling like heated metal. For an instant, everything stretched into infinity—then collapsed inward with a deafening thundercrack.

The world snapped back into focus inside the Forge Lab. The scent of molten alloy and cooling forge fires filled the air, the heartbeat of machinery echoing through the chamber.

"Lily," Luthar said, already striding toward the main console, "retrieve your armor. You'll need it."

"On it!" she chirped, vanishing down a side corridor with almost childlike eagerness.

A moment later, the lab's doors slid open to admit Freya, her presence rolling in like warm velvet over steel. She took one look at the scorch marks on Luthar's coat and the faint divine residue clinging to the room. "You've been busy," she purred.

Luthar didn't look up from his work. "Thor Odinson. Along with your counterparts and Loki. Soon, there will be interesting family drama in the desert."

In clipped efficiency, he explained the situation and slid a data-slate across the console toward her. It contained files on each target.

Freya's lips curved as she read. "Two brothers fighting—one for the throne, the other not even knowing why. An interesting story."

"His hammer is quite important for him," Luthar replied evenly. "Now stripped of most of his godhood by Odin, now he have to learn the meaning of strength among mortals."

Her eyes narrowed. "And the trickster?"

"Loki here is not the charming schemer you might recall," Luthar said, his tone cooling. "No sly wit. Plenty of mischief—deadly mischief—but no real power to back it up. He seeks Asgard's throne, but as Odin's adopted son, he will never truly claim it."

Freya's gaze sharpened. "So… you want me to enter the game?"

"Not exactly. I want him to compensate," Luthar said. "The weakened Thor is an opportunity. Lily needs to stretch her muscles."

A faint hum of power passed between them as Freya considered the idea, her smile slow and deliberate. "Mmm. I might enjoy that. Perhaps I could even take the throne myself. This Asgard could use a new queen… and I could use soldiers and servants to match my station."

She straightened, decision made. "Very well. I'll go with Lily. Let's see if your thunder god can survive my idea of fun."

Authors note: I guess I would be uploading 3 chapters till my physical health and mental health stabilize basically I got cold around 6 October and start taking medicine last 3 days but didn't work out close there is lots of chest pain if this was not enough keep getting depress and worried so can't write chapter at the previous speed .

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