Lucas only cared about two things when it came to the Quinjet:
its maneuverability and its ability to transport people.
All the fancy weapon systems?
He couldn't care less—they made no difference to him.
Nick Fury was silent for so long after hearing Lucas' "compromise" that Natasha thought he'd hung up.
"…Fine. But I can only give you a prototype Quinjet. Its flight performance is identical to the production model, but everything else—weaponry, shielding—will be removed."
Fury's heart bled.
Even a prototype was top-tier tech, and with a little modification it could easily match the combat-ready version.
The moment Fury agreed, Lucas sprang up and announced to Natasha:
"Let's go already. I can't wait to experience that wild West culture in New Mexico."
He practically skipped to the door and even held it open for her like a gentleman.
Natasha rolled her eyes so hard they nearly touched the ceiling, hung up on Fury, and marched out.
Lucas grinned to himself.
Soon he'd be able to bring Gwen and the others with him on missions without worrying about transportation.
He could even load Onion (the bike) into the Quinjet.
He wasn't worried about flying it either—since the plane was already his, Natasha wouldn't refuse to teach him how.
At the S.H.I.E.L.D. airfield, sure enough, a sleek black Quinjet waited on the tarmac—its matte finish radiating menace and power.
"So this is the one you're giving me? Don't tell me you're trying to dump a used one on me."
Lucas circled it, poking and pointing everywhere.
"Look at this—paint's chipped here. I want a brand-new one. Battle-damaged aesthetic isn't my vibe."
The pilot standing nearby blinked in disbelief.
What do you mean "giving it away"? This is my baby! What about me?!
Natasha's eyes nearly flipped her skull.
She shoved Lucas into a seat inside the plane.
"Dream on. This is the jet taking us to New Mexico. Yours comes afterward."
Wanting to get paid before doing the job?
Not happening.
"Hey—listen, if I get back and don't see my jet, I'm going to flip this whole place upside down. Can't guarantee S.H.I.E.L.D. will survive the day."
Lucas didn't sound even slightly joking.
S.H.I.E.L.D. could run, but they couldn't hide.
If they dared play tricks, he'd march right into their HQ and crack every egg in Fury's nest.
And maybe slice their pet worms in half for good measure.
All the way there, Lucas was unusually excited.
He watched the pilot operate the controls, hoping to learn something.
Unfortunately, he learned fast—and forgot even faster.
By the time they landed, he remembered only how to turn the engine on.
At the landing site, Coulson and Barton were already waiting.
Coulson gave Lucas a big hug.
"Come see the hammer—you're going to love this."
They followed him to the crater where the hammer had landed.
A shallow pit surrounded it, yet the soil directly beneath the hammer was pristine and untouched.
Meanwhile, in a small town nearby, a tall blond man was devouring food like a starving bear.
The fool prince of Asgard, the owner of the Meow-Meow Hammer—Thor.
"Another!!"
Smash!
Thor shattered a mug on the floor and roared for more.
Jane Foster and the others stared at him, mortified.
If they hadn't accidentally hit this large, deranged man with their car last night, they wouldn't be anywhere near him now.
At the table, Darcy Lewis was tapping on her laptop, laughing.
"Hey, check this out—some hammer fell from the sky nearby. No one can lift it. Like, seriously? A meteor-hammer? Wouldn't that have crushed someone? How heavy does it have to be?"
She cackled.
Thor froze mid-chew.
He grabbed Darcy's hand.
"Where is this hammer?!"
He was trembling with excitement.
Finding the hammer meant regaining his strength.
Darcy blinked.
Aside from being tall and handsome, this guy was clearly mentally unstable.
She vaguely pointed in a direction.
Thor followed her finger.
"How far?"
"Uh… two kilometers? I think?"
She wasn't sure at all. "Nearby" was a vague term.
Thor bolted out of the diner.
Jane chased after him, afraid he'd break more things.
Thor burst into a pet store.
"You there! Get me a horse!"
The owner stared at him.
A horse?
This wasn't a ranch.
This was a pet shop.
"Sorry, we don't sell horses."
"What do you have that I can ride?"
The owner's eye twitched.
Buddy, this is a pet shop. The only thing you could ride here is a dog—and you'd tear your pants doing it.
Jane hurried in and dragged Thor away.
"I'll take you to your hammer."
On the drive, Thor revealed his "identity" as the God of Thunder.
Everyone humored him politely—they all thought he was delusional.
Back at the site, Lucas approached the Meow-Meow Hammer, rubbing his hands together.
He wanted to see if he could lift it.
"Bro, be cool. Lots of people are watching. Don't embarrass me. Just let me pick you up—just a little."
He gripped the handle and pulled.
Nothing.
Not even a twitch.
"Come on—!"
He tried again.
Still nothing.
His expression darkened.
"Alright, don't blame me for what happens next."
He summoned the Ultimate Divine Armament, its blade pointed at the hammer.
"I'm giving you one more chance. Let me lift you—or I'm melting you down and handing your scrap to Tony for armor upgrades."
After the threat, he grabbed the handle again and pulled with all his strength.
"Get—UP!"
He shouted.
The hammer did not move an inch.
"Hell no, I don't believe this!"
He dismissed the sword.
Purple energy surged through his eyes, lightning coiling around him, his presence erupting like a storm-bringer.
The sky responded.
Dark clouds spiraled above the camp, purple lightning flickering through them like serpents.
BOOM—
Thunder shattered the sky, illuminating the darkened ground.
Lucas grasped the handle again.
Lightning crackled over his arm, spreading over the hammer's surface.
The engravings began to glow faintly in purple light—
then vanished.
And this time, without exerting any force at all—
Lucas lifted the hammer effortlessly.
BOOOOOM—!!
A cascade of lightning crashed from the heavens, engulfing the hammer.
Bolts danced around Lucas like jubilant spirits, wrapping him in thunder as if he himself were the God of Thunder.
"Faster! Go faster! I can feel someone lifting my hammer!!"
Thor, in the distance, stared at the raging storm with horror.
His heart sank—
his beloved hammer was slipping away from him.
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