In the detention room, the two sat quietly with their own thoughts.
"I think you'll be free of this situation soon," Harry said softly. He stood up from the chair, waved his hand, and the magnetic field sent the chair sliding firmly back to the wall.
"What?" Thor hadn't heard him clearly—Harry's voice had been too low.
"Heh, nothing." Harry smiled and waved it off. His ears twitched slightly as he heard movement outside.
Shhh—
The door of the holding room opened, and Phil Coulson stepped in with a smile, nodding to Harry.
"Mr. Osborne, this is physicist Eric Selvig. He came to take him away. It appears to be a misunderstanding." Coulson pursed his lips with a subtle expression, clearly not believing his own explanation, and shot Harry a cautious glance.
Harry naturally noticed the expression and smiled.
Regarding S.H.I.E.L.D.'s style, he knew enough to understand that they preferred to catch the wrong person rather than let one slip. Although Eric Selvig was a respected scientist, Coulson wasn't letting Thor go because of Selvig's influence. Harry knew perfectly well that as soon as Thor and Eric Selvig walked away, S.H.I.E.L.D. would send someone to tail them.
"Of course," Harry replied with a smile.
Outside the door, aside from Phil Coulson and a few agents, two unfamiliar faces stood waiting. A man and a woman—one older, one younger—like a father and daughter. Harry took a moment to recall and remembered who they were.
Jane Foster, a blonde beauty—though her skin looked dull and rough after being battered by harsh weather—still had that distinct wildness unique to European women with stronger features. It wasn't without its appeal.
"Hey! Donnie, Donnie, it's okay, we're here to pick you up. We can go now," the old scientist Eric Selvig called out with an overly cheerful smile, leaning into the doorway.
Harry noticed Thor glance at him, but didn't stop him.
Thor didn't understand Harry's intentions—why Harry, knowing his identity, would still allow Eric Selvig to walk him out with such an obviously fake excuse—but Thor wasn't in any mood to question it.
"Alright." Since Harry wasn't stopping him, he had no desire to remain imprisoned. In the surveillance room, Harry leaned lazily against the wall, uninterested in Thor's expression.
Thor didn't look at Harry again. He hadn't been able to read anything from Harry's expression—but the slight curl of Harry's lips had made him uneasy.
"His name is Donald Blake?" Coulson asked, glancing between Selvig and Thor.
"Yes," Dr. Selvig replied immediately.
"Your colleague is very dangerous, Dr. Selvig," Coulson said, nodding toward Thor with a hint of warning.
"He snapped after finding out you took all our research. Years of work gone…You know what happens when someone goes crazy." Dr. Selvig coughed and winked exaggeratedly.
Coulson's brows lifted. He hadn't expected Dr. Selvig to know about Dr. Bruce Banner. Yes—Selvig's words clearly hinted at the Hulk, the incarnation of rage. The phrase "go crazy" immediately made Coulson think of that giant green nightmare.
"But even that doesn't explain how he broke through our perimeter and tossed our agents around like sacks," Coulson said, pointing at the surveillance feed.
"Uh…" Dr. Selvig froze, then forced a smile, glanced sideways at Thor's tall and muscular frame, and said to Coulson, "Hormones. He's a fitness fanatic."
Coulson pursed his lips and turned his head slightly. His plan was clear: let Selvig take Thor away, then uncover Thor's identity afterward.
"Alright, Dr. Selvig, you can take him. But be careful. Don't let him earn himself another charge." Coulson waved oddly, signaling for them to leave.
"I will." Jane Foster stepped forward immediately, grabbed Thor by the arm, and pulled him toward the exit. Thor gave Harry one last deep look, and at the same time quietly slipped Jane Foster's notebook away—just like in the movie.
"Youth is something," Dr. Eric Selvig sighed, watching the two leave.
Coulson glanced at him, then turned away.
Harry pressed a hand to his mouth, trying not to laugh, and followed Coulson. The way Dr. Selvig and Coulson had been lamenting sounded like two old men talking—but in truth, Phil Coulson was barely in his thirties, still far from forty.
Following Coulson into a private lounge, Harry sat on the sofa.
"Something to report?" Coulson asked, handing him a cup of hot coffee.
"Yes. A big discovery." Harry hid his smirk, accepted the coffee, took a sip, and said, "That man's name is Thor. The same Thor from Norse mythology."
"Thor?!" Coulson shouted involuntarily. The coffee in his hand splashed from the sudden jerk.
"Don't be so excited—it's just a legendary alien species," Harry said quickly.
"A god—oh my god! This is insane." Even a seasoned agent like Coulson, who'd witnessed countless supernatural incidents, couldn't help but yell.
"Alien god, not the mythological kind," Harry clarified, putting down his coffee.
"Then that hammer… that's the real Mjolnir?" Coulson asked immediately. He had researched Nordic mythology thoroughly because of that hammer. It fit perfectly.
"Yes," Harry answered casually. "Thor was exiled by his father. Right now, he's no different from a normal human—just a bit stronger."
"Whew… that's another major event," Coulson muttered.
"It is," Harry nodded. "We need to prepare for what comes next."
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