The throne room was quiet except for the steady rhythm of Loki's breath. Odin lay deep in the Odin sleep, the weight of centuries heavy on his chest. Guards lingered at a respectful distance, waiting but never speaking. Loki stood over the All father for a moment, then turned toward the golden throne.
His fingers curled around Gungnir. He walked up the steps and sat. The seat felt colder than he expected, less triumphant. He had imagined this moment for years, but the silence pressed against him harder than any crown could. Still, his face remained calm. No weakness, not before these eyes.
The great doors opened. Heimdall entered, armor gleaming, gaze fixed straight ahead. He did not bow, only gave the barest nod.
"There is a situation on Midgard," Heimdall said, his voice firm. "A goddess has drawn close to Thor. She carries a charm that bends hearts and clouds judgment. I felt it myself when she appeared, and even the Allfather was not immune. If she chooses, she could turn Thor with little effort. He must be brought back before her hold deepens."
Loki's voice stayed smooth. "A goddess? From another pantheon?"
"Yes," Heimdall answered. "She walks among mortals, but she is not weak. She has already lifted Mjolnir. If she gains Thor fully, she could lead him here. With him at her side and her face before our warriors, many would yield without a fight. If that day comes, we will have no defense."
Loki kept his expression still, but the words bit deep. Mjolnir, moved by another. What he himself could never lift was claimed by a stranger. The thought coiled tight in his chest, but he swallowed it down. He would not give Heimdall the satisfaction of seeing it wound him.
"Odin rests," Loki said evenly. "Until he wakes, the throne is mine to guard. And I will not break his command. Thor was cast out. He will not return before the Allfather wakes."
His tone sharpened slightly. "You will watch. If this goddess acts, if she seeks to sway him further, you bring word to me. I will decide how to answer it. Not Thor. Not you."
Heimdall's gaze lingered. Those eyes had always been too sharp, too knowing, as though they could cut through every mask Loki wore. After a long pause, he gave a single nod. "As you wish, my king." He turned and left. The doors shut with a weight that echoed across the hall.
Silence returned. Loki leaned back, tapping Gungnir against the armrest. The unease inside him sharpened into calculation. If Heimdall spoke true, this goddess could be dangerous—but she could also be useful. Should she lead Thor astray, that would be the proof he needed.
He could call Thor a traitor and claim he had joined with an outsider to threaten Asgard. Then, when the time came, Loki would strike them both down. Thor, the reckless fool. The goddess, the intruder. He would stand over their bodies as the savior of Asgard.
Without Thor, no rival would remain. No doubt, no shadow. The throne would be his alone.
Loki's face stayed calm, his posture unshaken. But his mind was already racing, fitting the pieces into place—Thor and Freya. If he moved carefully, all three would serve his rise.
While Loki sat in Asgard weaving silent plans, far below on Midgard his brother was busy proving the Allfather's judgment true. In a room of glass and steel, under mortal watch, Thor's pride thundered louder than reason—every word and gesture pushing him closer to being seen not as a prince, but as a madman.
He filled the room with booming tales of Asgard and his "glorious battles," explaining his lineage and exile with no sense of how little anyone cared.
As Thor finally finished his story, silence returned to the room. His gaze dropped to the table, hand tightening around the empty cup.
Freya's voice was quieter than before, but edged with steel. "So, you were cast out because you were an idiot… and because you were weak?"
Thor's jaw clenched. "What nonsense is this? I was not weak. It was for my disobedience that I was cast out."
"Not really," she interrupted, her words slicing through his protest. "You had enough strength to fight—but strength without thought only drags you into ruin. You were cast out because your power could not shield you from the consequences of your own actions."
Thor said nothing. The retort died on his tongue. Her words cut deeper than any blade, striking at a truth he had never dared to face.
Natasha was watching Thor's face, weighing the arrogance against the flicker of doubt Freya's words had struck. A thought lingered—if he truly was a god, then perhaps he could be useful. Especially if Luther ever had to be contained. Natasha parted her lips to speak, ready to take Thor side —
—but the world shifted before a word could leave her mouth.
The light itself seemed to fold inward, shadows twisting inside the room. A ripple of pressure pushed through the walls and air before snapping back into silence. When it cleared, Luther stood in the center of the room. No warning given. He was simply there.
His first step echoed: click. Steel boots on concrete. The sound cut through the stunned quiet.
Every SHIELD agent moved at once, weapons raised, barrels leveled on him. Fingers curled over triggers, safeties snapped open.
Luther glanced at the agents, and then he spoke; his voice was calm, almost pleasant—yet carried the weight of authority. "It would be better not to raise your weapons. If one of you were to… misfire, I might be compelled to begin the next phase of my human development plan."
The soldiers exchanged confused glances. To them, it sounded absurd. To Natasha, it was anything but. She had read the sealed files, the reports about his human modification. Her pulse spiked. A bead of sweat traced the side of her temple. One wrong move, and this entire room could become raw material for whatever abomination he considered "improvement."
Her voice cut across the charged silence, sharp but edged with urgency.
"Stand down. All of you. Now."
The agents hesitated. Trained fingers itched to stay on their triggers. Natasha's tone cracked again, colder, firmer—though her jaw was tight, her skin damp with sweat.
"Now."
One by one, rifles are lowered, But No one holsters their weapon. the room trembling with the tension of restraint. Eyes stayed locked on the towering figure in the center, waiting for his next move.
Authors note: this would be the first week I able to finish 2 chapters currently I thinking a way to speed up once I able to write more than 4 chapters I would upload them at previous rate it's just I am still confuse why I can't write if you have any idea how can I improve my speed or story then you can comment blow and there is a new AI song on patreon it's a free so you can listen Christmas song 🎁 and also have another song which I haven't uploaded both are AI if you don't like it's ok. I would be waiting for your ideas so this Christmas I could release few more chapters
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