No one could have possibly imagined it.
Loki, the God of Mischief, had played his greatest trick on Odin, the All-Father. The grand coronation ceremony, an event for which Asgard had poured immense time and energy, dissolved into a cosmic joke the moment the new king's crown clattered to the floor.
Odin was furious. A wave of his divine power, raw and immense, surged forth, seeming to ignite the very roots of the World Tree and shaking the foundations of all Nine Realms. Across the galaxy, countless beings who knew the legend of Odin's might recalled the ancient fear of being dominated by his armies thousands of years ago. For a terrifying moment, they thought the old king had finally torn off his benevolent mask, that he was preparing to restore the bloody glory of Asgard's conquering past.
If the major races of the universe felt this tremor, the guests within Asgard's palace were paralyzed with terror. The tall Dwarf King, his face a mask of pale dread, stared at the crown he had so carefully forged now rolling across the floor. He knew Odin's temper. He remembered the tales of the All-Father riding alone from Asgard to Helheim, cutting down legions of enemies. This was a king who had not hesitated to strike down his own firstborn daughter; what would he do to his youngest son, the one who had always been a disappointment? The dwarf dropped to the ground, trying to make his mountain-like frame as small as possible, praying Odin would not notice him.
Loki, it seemed, was about to face a punishment beyond imagination.
But then, as expected, the unexpected happened.
Odin's rage, which had erupted like a thunderclap, vanished as quickly as it came. The universe-shaking torrent of divine power dissipated in an instant, as if the All-Father's wrath had been nothing but a fleeting illusion. He slumped back onto his throne, suddenly looking like nothing more than a lonely old widower, with no children left to comfort him.
The ceremony was over.
Out of fear, no one dared to speak Loki's name again. The gods, elves, and dwarves who had come from across the realms to offer congratulations now fled back to their homes. Asgard, once filled with revelry, became eerily empty.
Brunnhilde was ecstatic. Seeing Odin so thoroughly humiliated filled her with a vindictive joy that greatly improved her opinion of Loki. Grabbing several bottles of the finest Asgardian mead, she bid Ben farewell and returned to Sakaar. She, Caiera, and Beta Ray Bill were now overseeing the training of the new Plumber recruits. Caiera was teaching the Sakaarans to harness the Old Power, Brunnhilde was drilling them in combat skills, and Bill, while refitting the massive Korbinite battleship, was also performing voluntary cybernetic enhancements on warriors who had the will but lacked the natural talent. Ben had made it clear: unlike the Korbinites of old, no one would be forced to undergo a transformation against their will.
Brunnhilde left, but Ben remained. He had been asked to stay by Odin, who wished to speak with him. However, the All-Father's earlier outburst had left him weak, and the conversation was postponed. So, Ben found a secluded garden in the palace, a quiet place of lush grass and fragrant flowers, to enjoy the scenery and wait for Loki to inevitably show up.
He didn't have to wait long. A familiar set of light footsteps sounded behind him, and the air shimmered as Loki's form slowly materialized. For a man who had just publicly deceived the king of the gods, he seemed remarkably calm.
"Well," Loki said, a proud, triumphant grin spreading across his face. "I told you it would be a legend. A grand show! A masterpiece of a prank!" He hopped briskly onto the stone railing, below which the Asgardian sea flowed off the edge of the world into the boundless cosmos. "Everyone assumed I would take the throne. It's what they believed I craved. So, naturally, I had to do the exact opposite."
Ben glanced at him, a genuine smile on his face. "It was a good look. The green robes suit you much better than a hammer, anyway. That's not really your style."
"You don't seem surprised at all," Loki noted, his own smile faltering slightly. Everyone thought he had given everything for the throne, that he had even tried to murder his brother for it. Yet, when it was within his grasp, he had tossed it aside as if the lordship of the Nine Realms was a mere trifle.
But Ben knew better. "The throne of Asgard is too small for you, Loki."
The compliment seemed to catch Loki off guard. He felt a flush of embarrassment, lowering his head and covering his mouth with his hand. "Not really, not really…" he mumbled. He then admitted, his voice softer, "All I ever wanted was his recognition. To know if he truly loved me. Now that I have my answer, nothing else matters. Let Thor have the throne. He'd be far too pitiful without it."
As he spoke, he seemed to remember his predicament. "Oh, by the way, now that I've made a fool of the old man, he must be furious. Utterly disappointed. Humiliated, even." He leaned in conspiratorially. "If he catches me, he might just skin me alive. So, I was thinking… the Plumbers might have room for one more, yes? Just for a little while?"
Ben raised an eyebrow. "If you had left with Brunnhilde, you'd be on Sakaar by now."
"And you think Heimdall is blind?" Loki shot back.
You know he's not blind, and you still pulled that stunt? Ben thought, rolling his eyes. It was absurd to think Odin hadn't seen Loki's trick coming. Frigga had taught him everything he knew about illusion magic; did he really think he could deceive the queen of the gods?
Just as Ben suspected, after Loki made his tactical retreat, Odin and Frigga summoned him for another meeting. This was not a meeting between kings, but between a pair of parents and their son's trusted friend.
After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Odin smiled, his eyes weary but kind. "He trusts you a great deal. Relies on you, even. The moment his little prank succeeded, he couldn't wait to run and find you."
It was clear then that Odin was not angry at all. His previous rage had been a performance. "I am proud of him," the All-Father said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "But you must understand, as a father, as a king… there are times I cannot show that pride." He explained that even with Mjolnir's endorsement, many in Asgard would never have accepted Loki. They stubbornly believed the throne belonged to Thor, and that Loki was just a thief who had stolen his brother's glory. "Loki pretends not to care, but he is a sensitive soul."
Odin looked down, a deep, ancient regret on his face. "It is all my fault. For how I raised them." His memory drifted back over a thousand years. "Both of you are my children," he had told them, "but only one of you can be king." Perhaps that single sentence, uttered so long ago, had been the seed of all this pain. For Loki, who later learned he was not Odin's biological son, it became a poisoned barb in his heart. Even after proving worthy, he felt he had stolen what was rightfully Thor's.
"It wasn't a prank," Frigga said, her voice filled with both heartbreak and relief for her youngest son. "It was his way of gracefully abdicating. Of leaving everything for his brother." That was why Odin had cooperated, using his divine power to shake the World Tree and create the illusion of his wrath.
"Perhaps there is only one God-King in Asgard," Odin whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "But both of my sons… they were born to be kings." After a long moment, he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and summoned Mjolnir. "Since Loki has put down the hammer, let it remain in Midgard." He tossed the mighty weapon, and it vanished into the Bifrost's light.
"I am glad Loki has a friend like you," Odin said, turning back to Ben. "As a parent, I do not know how to express my gratitude. But as the king of Asgard… I do have something to give you." He made no mention of the Destroyer or the Casket of Ancient Winters. Instead, he led Ben to the fabled treasury of Asgard.
Odin, perhaps foreseeing the coming twilight of the gods, was incredibly generous, allowing Ben to choose almost anything from his vault. Ben, however, showing respect to the weary king, was not greedy.
Later, the Rainbow Bridge once more streaked across the cosmos, returning Ben and Thor to Earth. Thor was still the one deemed unworthy, but he had grown. He understood now that a king's duty was not war, but protection. The problem was, he had lost his fighting spirit. He was no longer radical, but he had also become timid, filled with self-doubt. It was no longer the hammer that rejected him; it was he who rejected the hammer.
Returning to Earth was not a humiliation, but a relief. Here, no one knew his past, no one pitied him, and no one expected him to shoulder such a heavy burden. Looking at Ben, he didn't see the Four-Arm monster from New Mexico, but the high school student he had once met while swinging a sledgehammer on a construction site.
"I didn't expect you to actually know Loki," Thor said, a bit embarrassed. "Even my father respects you greatly. So… you're the King of Sakaar…" He'd never heard of Sakaar, but he knew how valuable a king recognized by Odin must be.
"The title of king is not important," Ben said with a shake of his head. His real title was Chief of Security for the Plumbers. "You can call me Ben Parker. Or Sheriff." He handed Thor a Plumber's badge. "If you ever run into trouble, use this to contact me."
Odin had not asked him to look after Thor, but Ben felt an obligation. He left Thor with a Primus business card as well. "If you can't find a job, you can always apply."
Thor barely registered it. He casually stuffed the items into his pocket, his mind already elsewhere. He had to find Jane Foster. He had left without a word, and now, after all this time, he missed his mortal love more than ever.
Ben returned to the H.A.M.M.E.R. Helicarrier. In the days he was gone, the team had been training relentlessly, getting used to cooperative combat and even practicing underwater tactics.
Now, the time had come. On the flight deck, six figures boarded a small, sleek spaceship one after another. It was the Sakaar Messenger, the same ship Loki had flown to Earth months ago, now retrofitted with powerful Tetramand engines capable of crossing star systems in a fraction of the time.
The air was thick with anticipation. Peter was practically vibrating with excitement, Venom chattering a stream of mostly nonsensical "cosmic knowledge" into his mind. T'Challa was equally thrilled, though far more restrained, befitting his royal status. Steve was more subdued, his mind already focused on the enemies they might face, the heavy burden of command settled on his shoulders.
As for Felicia and Ben, they found a quiet spot near a viewport, looking out at the endless sea of stars.
The gorgeous nebulae floated like colorful mist, and golden vortexes spread out like the wings of cosmic angels. Every twinkling light was a star telling a story billions of years in the making. Felicia felt her heart fill with a sense of wonder so vast it was almost overwhelming. She squeezed Ben's hand, thinking that if the starlight was eternal, then perhaps this moment, this feeling, could be too.