The edges of the rift were unnaturally smooth, with no spilling energy—like a "door" had been opened in reality.
Even the Stormbreaker possessed spatial power. With the Path of Flame sword and its spatial laws, Lucci could perform ultra-long-distance precise teleportation with ease. Its efficiency and concealment far surpassed the Bifrost.
After all, the Destroyer had departed first. If he wanted to save Thor in time, he had to move faster.
Lucci stepped forward without hesitation and vanished into the pitch-black rift.
The rift sealed instantly, leaving no trace.
…
New Mexico — Along a Desert Highway
Jane Foster, her mentor Dr. Erik Selvig, and intern Darcy Lewis leaned against a battered van, frowning.
Telescopes, spectrometers, laptops—every piece of research equipment…
All of it had recently been forcibly confiscated by a group calling themselves "S.H.I.E.L.D." on the grounds of "threatening national security."
"How can they do this?!" Darcy kicked the tire angrily. "That's our life's work!"
"That was the observation system Jane built over years!"
Dr. Selvig adjusted his glasses and sighed helplessly. "It's not that simple, Darcy. They have government authority. We're civilians—we can't force the issue."
Jane frowned, her gaze drifting again and again toward a temporary base in the distance—high walls and barbed wire enclosing it.
She couldn't shake the feeling it was connected to the man who fell from the sky a few days ago… and the mysterious "hammer."
"We have to find out what happened," Jane said, eyes full of stubborn resolve.
Just as the three were at a loss—
A figure appeared out of nowhere right in front of them.
He looked around twenty-something, with black hair and dark eyes, features like Apollo from ancient Greek myth—almost unreal. (TL: Probably a lot of time skip happen during his cultivation.)
He wore a tailored, textured black casual outfit none of them recognized.
He stood there in the same sunlight as them, yet carried a noble aura that didn't belong to this world.
Jane and the others froze, unease sinking into their chests.
What was going on?
Just a second ago there was… obviously no one there.
This desert stretched to the horizon—anyone approaching should've been visible.
Yet this man seemed to have simply materialized.
"Y-you… who are you?" Darcy blurted, eyes wide. "How did you appear?"
Lucci's gaze swept over the mortals—lingering briefly on the brown-haired woman. Her eyes were full of intelligence, curiosity, and stubbornness. He felt a flicker of surprise.
That outfit, this place… could she be Jane Foster?
What a coincidence—to meet the story's characters directly.
"Hello, two beautiful ladies… and this gentleman," Lucci said, not answering Darcy directly. He smiled faintly.
"I'm looking for two things."
"One is the hammer that fell from the sky."
"The other is the strange big man who got knocked down by it."
"Have you seen them?"
Jane and the others froze again.
He… he actually knew about the hammer.
And he knew about that "big idiot," too!
Jane reacted fast. The mysterious man was definitely connected to the supernatural event.
Maybe… he came from the same place as the man who called himself "Thor."
Curiosity crushed her wariness in an instant.
Jane's eyes shone as she pointed almost unconsciously toward the S.H.I.E.L.D.-sealed temporary base.
"The hammer… the hammer is over there!" she said excitedly. "And that man… I met him by chance a few days ago. He should be in the town hospital now!"
"Oh?" Lucci followed her pointing. With a closer look, he could feel the aura of Mjolnir—right at the base's center.
"Thank you."
He smiled at Jane and nodded. Under his deep gaze, Jane's cheeks reddened despite herself.
But just as Lucci started toward the base—
A harsh screech of tires came from afar.
Several black vehicles with dark blast-proof film on the windows rushed in from both sides like hunting beasts.
They drifted to a stop, surrounding Lucci and the others.
Doors snapped open. More than a dozen elite agents in black suits, sunglasses, and headsets poured out in trained formation, weapons already loaded—black muzzles instantly locking onto everyone present.
A tense, solemn pressure spread in an instant.
A rear door opened. A middle-aged man with a slightly high hairline stepped out in a suit.
It was S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Phil Coulson.
Coulson had received reports that the astronomers whose equipment had been confiscated had returned near the perimeter, seemingly planning something.
He'd come to give a final warning—"persuade them to leave."
But the moment he stepped out and scanned the scene, his gaze snapped to Lucci.
His professional smile stiffened.
As a top S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, he'd met all kinds of people—politicians, power brokers, assassins, superheroes.
But the man before him gave him a feeling he'd never experienced.
Coulson didn't know Lucci, but Lucci carried an air of transcendence—as if he didn't belong in the same world.
His indifference in the face of a dozen gun barrels… the look in his eyes, like he was watching ants…
Coulson's suppressed instincts screamed a warning.
Not human.
Extremely dangerous.
Coulson didn't dare be careless. Keeping his smile, he pressed the encrypted comm at his collar and reported to Nick Fury in his lowest voice.
"Director, this is Coulson. Unexpected situation at target location… unknown young male, potential high-threat target. Requesting facial recognition and database comparison."
Meanwhile, Jane, Darcy, and Selvig turned pale at the sight of the armed men.
"Oh my God. Here we go again!" Darcy yelped, shooting both hands up.
Jane was tense too. She lowered her voice urgently to Lucci. "Be careful! These are S.H.I.E.L.D. guys! They have guns—don't resist!"
"In their eyes, if you don't comply, you'll die!"
To Jane, Lucci seemed mysterious—but still human. Against this many guns, resistance was pointless.
She didn't want this handsome stranger to be riddled with bullets.
But Lucci merely smiled, unconcerned.
S.H.I.E.L.D.?
Guns?
Those toys humans used to hurt each other?
He didn't even glance at the agents acting like they faced a mortal enemy.
To him, these "elite agents" were no different than roadside cacti.
His eyes went past the walls and barbed wire, his thoughts piercing every obstacle until they settled on the hammer in the deep crater at the base's center.
"Mm. It is Mjolnir… and its energy is sealed."
"Hm? Someone's already infiltrated the base? Thor."
"So he's still alive. I should've come sooner."
Seeing Thor alive, Lucci's expression softened. Ignoring the encirclement and gun muzzles, he walked straight toward the base.
"Stop! Don't move!"
"Warning! Stop now, or we'll shoot!"
The agents tensed, shouting as they tightened their grips.
Two agents stepped directly into Lucci's path, trying to block him with their bodies.
Then something bizarre happened.
As soon as they approached Lucci, it was as if gravity disappeared. They ran in place awkwardly, unable to move forward at all.
"What's happening?"
"I… can't get through!"
Shock rippled through the entire team—something completely beyond their understanding.
A younger agent, nerves stretched to the limit, put a finger on the trigger—
"Everyone! Don't shoot!"
Coulson's urgent voice cut through.
He stared at Lucci's unhurried back, cold sweat beading on his forehead.
He knew it.
They'd kicked an iron plate this time.
That invisible wall was clearly an incomprehensible energy field.
Against a superhuman who could manipulate energy, firearms were a joke—useless at best, provoking at worst.
If they angered him, forget the mission—whether these dozen people could leave this desert alive would be questionable.
Coulson's mind raced. He made the only correct call: de-escalate.
"Everyone, weapons down! Do not do anything to provoke him!" Coulson ordered.
Then, in the most harmless tone he could manage, he called after Lucci:
"Sir! We mean no harm! We are S.H.I.E.L.D., responsible for handling abnormal phenomena. We only want to talk!"
Lucci didn't even turn around.
Talk?
Did ants have the right to talk to a dragon?
So under the agents' wary, shocked, and humiliated stares, Lucci crossed the cordon unimpeded and entered the top-secret temporary base.
Coulson could only sigh, then wave to his men. "Follow—keep your distance! Record everything he does! Don't act rashly!"
He hurried after Lucci while reporting to Fury in a grave tone.
"Director, the target has entered the base… yes, we can't stop him… his capabilities far exceed our expectations…"
…
Inside the Base — The Crater Laboratory
The massive crater had been converted into an open-air lab. Advanced equipment ringed the pit, and countless probes and cables were connected to the object at the center.
The entire site was already in chaos.
Several S.H.I.E.L.D. agents lay sprawled in the mud, bruised and swollen, groaning in pain.
The culprit was a tall, broad-shouldered blond man in a shabby T-shirt and jeans.
Thor.
He'd escaped the hospital and infiltrated the base.
Though stripped of divine power—unable to summon thunder or lightning—his body, forged by millennia of war, still possessed strength and combat skill far beyond any human.
Like a tiger in a sheepfold, he had easily taken down the guards.
Now he stood at the crater's edge, staring at the hammer he knew so well: Mjolnir.
"My hammer…"
Thor's eyes filled with excitement, longing—and a fragile hint of hope.
He nearly tumbled down into the crater toward it.
He could feel that familiar, gentle power right in front of him.
As long as he held it again, he could reclaim everything:
Thor's strength, the glory of Asgard's prince, and the dignity his father had stripped away.
"Come back to me! My power!"
Thor took a deep breath, smiled with confidence, and gripped Mjolnir's handle.
He heaved with all his might.
The hammer didn't budge.
Thor's smile froze.
"What?"
He blinked, stunned, thinking he hadn't used the right force.
He reset his stance—feet planted, core braced—and lifted again!
"Rise… get up!"
He roared, face flushing red, arm muscles knotting, veins bulging.
But Mjolnir remained utterly unmoved—as if it had rooted into the earth.
Thor stared blankly.
How could this be?
Why?
This is my hammer!
My partner in battle!
Why… are you rejecting me?
He refused to believe it and tried again and again.
He tried everything—pulling, yanking, prying, carrying…
No matter what he did, the hammer that once felt light as a feather was now heavier than a planet.
Finally, after dozens of failures, Thor's strength gave out.
He let go weakly and collapsed to the ground, staring dully at Mjolnir—then at his own trembling hands.
An unfamiliar feeling flooded him instantly and spread through his whole body:
Despair.
He remembered the disappointment on his father's face before the banishment.
He remembered the words Odin had spoken over the hammer:
"If he is… worthy…"
"Worthy…" Thor laughed miserably, self-mockery and pain in the sound. "Worthy…"
He understood at last.
He wasn't worthy anymore.
He was no longer the mighty Thor, no longer Asgard's prince.
He was just a man abandoned by his father, betrayed by power…
A mortal.
The once-proud God of Thunder, in this moment, had all his pride and dignity shattered by reality.
"No!"
He dropped to his knees, throwing his head back and roaring into the sky—helpless, confused, in agony.
Tears mixed with dust and ran down his face.
And then—
A calm, familiar voice came from behind him.
"Crying is ugly."
Thor's sobbing roar cut off.
He jerked his head up. His face was smeared with tears and mud, eyes wide in disbelief.
He saw the person he was most desperate to see.
Lucci.
But…
Wasn't he supposed to be in Asgard?
How was he here?
…
PS: Read advanced chapters at patreon.com/AbsoluteCode