Outside, the battle had fallen into a deadlock. Steve, Wanda, and the others were completely bogged down in a grinding stalemate against the green monsters.
Creatures that Harry could wipe out quickly with a disintegration spell or the Killing Curse weren't nearly so easy for them.
These monsters were tough-skinned and thick-fleshed, freakishly strong, and their attack patterns kept changing—every one of them was a nightmare to deal with.
Even Wanda—gifted enough to study soul magic—was still a rookie in the mystic arts. She couldn't yet launch targeted attacks against the green monsters' cowardly souls.
So they had no choice but to kill them the hard way: by destroying their bodies.
But the physical specs of these flesh-and-blood monsters far exceeded most of the team. They were fast, agile, and possessed terrifying regeneration—harder to handle than the Lizard ever was.
Most of the time, they finally found an opening and badly wounded one monster, only for another to rush in before they could even catch their breath.
It was like the monsters were being controlled by some bizarre will. They understood coordination. A fresh monster would throw itself into the fight, attacking like mad just to buy time for its injured partner to recover.
When the wounded monster's injuries healed at a visible pace and it regained fighting strength, the two would immediately fall back into seamless teamwork—alternating pressure and striking in turns, looping the pattern again and again.
That constant cycle kept draining everyone's stamina and focus, leaving them weaker and weaker as the long fight dragged on.
These things were slaughter machines built for combat—cruel, emotionless, and efficient.
Their movements were precise and mechanical, with no wasted motion, like they were running on a preset program. No fear. No retreat. No hesitation.
In their eyes, there was only one objective: keep attacking, keep killing the enemy in front of them.
Steve gripped his shield tightly. Lightning crawled over his body like living silver snakes, sizzling and bursting with blinding light.
He forced power through his legs and arms, using that lightning-boosted strength to smash a snarling green monster away—sending it flying.
In the dust-choked battlefield, Steve stood in place, breathing hard.
It had only been a short time, yet he was already drenched in sweat. Thick drops rolled down his determined face, soaking into his clothes.
It felt like his muscles were being stabbed by countless steel needles, waves of soreness crashing over him one after another. Even his spine seemed to complain under the strain, creaking like it was about to give out.
A bitter thought rose in Steve's chest.
He really was getting "old."
Back in the last century, even after fighting the Red Skull for an entire day, he'd still been energetic—no exhaustion at all.
He'd thought that once Harry eliminated nearly half the green monsters, the rest would be nothing. Easy cleanup.
But once the fighting started, reality hit hard.
From the moment the battle began, they'd gone all-out… and still had only managed to kill around ten.
There were almost thirty left.
And their stamina was already starting to fail. If this dragged on much longer, they'd collapse from sheer fatigue before they finished the monsters off.
Then—boom!
A thunderous explosion rang out from the sky.
A searing streak of lightning tore open the heavens, and a figure wrapped in rolling thunder slammed down like a meteor straight into the middle of the monster pack.
In an instant, endless lightning spread like a raging sea of storms, surging outward in all directions. Thick bolts struck one monster after another with uncanny precision.
Screams erupted. In the strobing glare, several monsters were erased in the blink of an eye, reduced to charred black remains.
Steve looked at the man who had arrived, eyes shining.
But his gaze wasn't locked on Thor's towering frame or his golden curls.
It was locked on the hammer in Thor's hand.
The hammer had a unique shape, its surface smooth like a mirror, reflecting cold metallic light. It carried something ancient—mysterious—almost sacred.
And for some reason, an intense instinct surged up inside Steve. That hammer felt unbelievably attractive to him, like it was supposed to be his.
As if there was some unexplainable connection between them.
After landing, Thor swung once and knocked a lunging green monster flying. Then he threw his head back and laughed, loud and fearless.
"Hahaha! Thor, God of Thunder, has arrived! Where's Harry?"
Before they launched the operation to wipe out the HYDRA base, Harry had thought of Thor immediately and sent him an invitation.
After everything he'd been through, Thor had gained a deeper understanding of what it meant to be a king—and that growth had boosted his power tremendously.
With Wanda not yet fully matured, Thor was unquestionably one of the Avengers' strongest fighters.
And with that kind of combat power on the table, there was no way Harry would let it go to waste.
But when Harry reached Asgard and spoke with Heimdall, he learned Thor had gone across the Nine Realms to quell unrest and would need time before he could come.
With no way to know exactly when Thor would return, Harry and the others couldn't afford to sit around and wait.
Time was tight. To avoid letting the situation drag out and get worse, they made the call on the spot and set out immediately.
Still—no one expected Thor to show up at the exact moment the team was getting ground down.
Hearing Thor's question, Steve—acting as the Avengers' vice-captain—stepped forward first. He wore a steady, composed smile as he spoke.
"Thor. I'm Steve Rogers. Harry told us about you.
"He just left a moment ago to pursue an important HYDRA criminal. With Harry's strength, he should be back to regroup with us before long."
Thor intended to greet Steve with his usual bold, easygoing swagger—but the moment their eyes met, a strange feeling washed over him.
One look was enough.
Same type of person.
For some reason, from the very first glance, Thor felt like he was looking at another version of himself—so much so that the thunder god power inside him stirred, almost drawn toward Steve.
But that wasn't even the main issue.
The main issue was that Steve was staring straight at Mjolnir.
This damn man—he wants to steal my hammer!
Still, Thor didn't panic. After all, his brother Loki had coveted Mjolnir his entire life, and Mjolnir had never acknowledged Loki even once.
Surely this guy would be the same.
Thor unleashed a burst of thunder power and instantly cleared the green monsters gathering around him.
After finishing them off, he rolled his wrist with lingering excitement, then turned to Steve—still staring at Mjolnir—and raised an eyebrow with a teasing grin.
"Hey. Looks like you're interested in my hammer. Want to try picking it up? Only a righteous and kind warrior can lift Mjolnir and gain the power of the God of Thunder!"
Mjolnir was Thor's beloved, sure—but he wasn't so petty that he wouldn't let his "wife" shake someone else's hand.
If anything, he loved watching people grab Mjolnir and then fail miserably to lift it.
So Thor tossed Mjolnir right down at Steve's feet, smirking.
"Go on. Try it. Maybe you're worthy."
Kind-hearted Steve didn't suspect a trap at all. He replied sincerely, "Thank you!"
He truly was fascinated by the hammer's mysterious power. He wanted a closer look—wanted to understand why it pulled at him so strongly.
Steve bent down and slowly reached out, ready to pick up Mjolnir.
But the moment he opened his palm—
The borrowed power inside him—the thunder god power simulated by chaos magic—suddenly became active.
Thor was still wearing that amused, anticipatory grin, ready to watch Steve embarrass himself—
And then his eyes widened so hard they practically bulged out of his skull.
Mjolnir trembled on its own, completely out of control.
Then it erupted with dazzling lightning, shot upward like a bolt, and flew straight into Steve's hand.
Almost at the same time, the sky changed. Clouds churned violently as an enormous thundercloud gathered, and a lightning bolt as thick as a bucket crashed down from above—slamming into Steve.
When the glare faded and everyone looked again—
Steve's suit had changed at some point into Thor's lightning armor.
And then came the real horror.
On Thor's side, his iconic lightning armor had vanished completely, leaving him in nothing but plain underwear.
Thor stood there frozen, mouth open, eyes filled with shock and confusion.
He couldn't believe that besides Harry, there was someone else who could earn Mjolnir's acknowledgment.
But only an instant later, Thor snapped back to reality and understood what had happened.
He'd been NTR'd again!
Panic exploded through him. He stopped caring about dignity or image, sprinted toward Steve, and shouted in desperation:
"No! Give me back my hammer!"
Normally, with Steve's consistent honesty and goodness, he would've handed Mjolnir right back without hesitation.
But the second Mjolnir settled into his hand, a wondrous sensation surged through his entire body.
He could clearly feel the immense power inside the hammer resonating with the energy within him, blending together. Every cell in his body seemed to cheer. A pleasure so intense it was almost indescribable flooded him—like being reborn.
Steve hesitated for a heartbeat.
Then he thought, I already picked it up… playing with it for just a moment shouldn't be a big deal, right?
He wore an awkward, apologetic smile toward Thor's frantic face and hurriedly explained, "I'm really sorry, Thor. Let me use it for a bit—just a little. I promise I'll give it right back!"
As soon as he finished speaking, Steve kicked off with both legs—
And shot straight up dozens of meters into the air.
As he rose, that thunder god power seemed to find an outlet, pouring into his body nonstop, strengthening him again and again—like there was no limit.
At the peak, Steve paused briefly in midair.
Then he dropped like a falling meteor, smashing down toward the densest cluster of monsters.
Boom!
In the next instant, Mjolnir exploded with blinding lightning.
A massive arc of electricity—visible to the naked eye—expanded in a perfect circle from Steve as the center, surging outward in every direction.
Lightning flashed. Sparks sprayed. The air filled with the sharp stink of burning.
With that single strike, more than a dozen green monsters were killed outright.
Thor stood there in total disbelief.
What is this?!
Why is he using Mjolnir with more power than I can?!
Damn it!
I'm the God of Thunder—aaaaaaaaaah!
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