At the far edge of the cosmos, where starlight bent against ancient power, the Rainbow Bridge shimmered with unstable energy. On its gleaming surface stood Thor, the God of Thunder, freshly returned from the icy battlegrounds of Jotunheim. His armor was still scarred from combat, his breath heavy with rage, and his voice thundered louder than the storms he commanded.
"I will make those frost giants remember my name," Thor roared, his fists clenched so tightly that faint arcs of electricity danced across his knuckles. "They will learn fear."
Across from him stood Odin, the Allfather, his presence calm yet overwhelming. His single eye burned with authority, and when he spoke, his voice carried the weight of centuries. "What you speak of is not strength, but arrogance. A king must know restraint, must understand patience. I have told you this before, and yet you forget."
Thor's jaw tightened, frustration boiling over into defiance. "Our enemies are already preparing for war, and you would have us wait like cowards. Your old strategies are outdated. We should strike first and crush anyone who dares challenge Asgard."
Odin's expression hardened, disappointment flashing beneath his anger. "You are reckless. Blind to consequence. A warrior who seeks battle without wisdom is no leader at all."
"And you," Thor snapped back, voice rising, "are a coward hiding behind old fears."
That single sentence shattered what little restraint remained. The skies above Asgard darkened instantly, thunder roaring in response to Odin's fury. His power surged outward, ancient and absolute.
"Thor Odinson," Odin declared, his voice echoing across the bridge like a divine verdict. "You are no longer worthy to be the heir of Asgard."
With a sweeping gesture, he stripped Thor of his power. The bond between god and weapon was severed in an instant, and Mjolnir flew from Thor's grasp into Odin's hand. The Rainbow Bridge activated beneath them, its energy spiraling violently.
"You are banished," Odin continued, his tone cold and final. "Cast out to the mortal realm."
Before sending the hammer away, he raised it slightly and whispered a binding decree, one that would echo across worlds. "Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor."
Then, with a decisive motion, he hurled Mjolnir into the collapsing light of the bridge.
…
High above Manhattan, on the balcony of the Stark Industries headquarters, the contrast between heaven and hell was stark and almost surreal. Below, the city burned. Screams echoed through the streets, smoke coiled into the sky, and demons crawled through shattered avenues like a spreading infection.
Yet here, in a luxury suite overlooking the chaos, Tony Stark leaned casually against the railing, a glass of whiskey in hand. His expression was relaxed, almost amused, as if the destruction below were nothing more than background noise.
Beside him stood Mephisto, dressed in an immaculate suit, his cane tapping lightly against the floor. His eyes were fixed on the distant Avengers compound, brows furrowed in mild irritation.
"That one you call Cohen," Mephisto said slowly, his tone curious. "Why does he have armor as well? And why does it look… superior to yours?"
Stark blinked, momentarily thrown off. "He has armor? Better than mine?" The idea clearly didn't sit well with him.
With a flick of his hand, Mephisto conjured an image of the battlefield in midair. The projection showed two figures locked in combat above the ruined base—one clad in hellfire armor, the other in sleek silver-gray plating that hummed with controlled power.
Stark narrowed his eyes, studying the design. "I could build something like that," he muttered defensively, though the tension in his voice betrayed him.
"You could," Mephisto replied lightly. "But you chose not to."
Stark snorted and took another sip of his drink. "You gave Hawkeye all that power, and what do I get? A few handfuls of sand? Seems like a bad trade."
"If you go help him now," Mephisto said, lifting his cane slightly, "I might reward you properly."
Stark eyed the skull-topped staff with suspicion. "And what does that thing do?"
Mephisto smiled faintly. "It hurts when you hit people with it."
Their attention returned to the battlefield as the fight intensified. Cohen and Hawkeye clashed across sky and river, their movements blurring into streaks of light and shadow. At first glance, the two seemed evenly matched, neither gaining a decisive advantage.
Then everything shifted.
Without warning, Cohen's movements changed. He raised his hand, and the lightning erupting from his armor condensed into a massive, intricate web. It expanded instantly, crackling with overwhelming energy as it surged toward Hawkeye.
The attack was fast—too fast—but what shocked Stark most was Hawkeye's complete lack of response. He flew straight into the net, as if unable to perceive it at all.
"That's… not normal," Stark muttered, leaning forward.
The lightning didn't just strike—it bound. It tightened around Hawkeye, locking him in place with absolute precision.
Cohen wasted no time. He appeared in front of his opponent in a flash and brought down his chainsword without hesitation. Sparks exploded on impact, metal grinding against metal with a piercing shriek.
Mephisto's expression darkened instantly. Without another word, he vanished from the balcony, leaving only a faint ripple in the air behind him. "Stay here," his voice echoed faintly. "I'll handle this."
The projection disappeared, leaving Stark alone with the burning city.
He didn't move.
Instead, he took another slow sip of whiskey, his gaze drifting across Manhattan. Fires raged unchecked, demons prowled freely, and chaos ruled every street. In the distance, an automated suit of armor—red and gold—fought tirelessly to protect civilians on a bridge.
But Stark himself remained where he was, untouched, observing.
He glanced toward a towering column of red light piercing the sky and spoke quietly, almost to himself. "Mephisto… are you sure this invasion is going to work? Because from where I'm standing… it looks like you're about to lose."
…
Cohen could feel the resistance in front of him weakening.
The chainsword bit deeper into Hawkeye's armor, and with a final grinding crack, it shattered. The divine energy that had protected him dissipated instantly, leaving him exposed—body, mind, and soul.
Cohen's chest armor opened, revealing his glowing eyes. His gaze locked onto Hawkeye's.
"Look into my eyes," he commanded, voice cold and absolute. "Let the souls of your victims judge you. Feel everything they suffered."
"Stop!" a voice shouted from behind, urgent and desperate—but it came too late.
The judgment had already begun.
Flames ignited around Hawkeye, not consuming him but manifesting as weapons. Arrows formed from hellfire, each one representing a life he had taken. One by one, they pierced through him—relentless, unending.
One hundred and sixty-seven arrows.
One hundred and sixty-seven innocent lives.
As the final arrow struck, Hawkeye's clarity returned. His eyes, once clouded, now reflected the devastation around him—the ruined city, the broken lives.
"I'm… sorry…" he whispered weakly, his voice trembling with regret.
Cohen shook his head, unmoved. "I can't forgive you. But I can make sure the one behind this pays."
Hawkeye let out a faint, bitter laugh. "He's… not that simple…"
His soul dissolved completely.
Cohen let the body fall and turned, already sensing the presence behind him.
Mephisto stood there, calm as ever, leaning on his cane as though he had been watching the entire time.
"You figured it out," Mephisto said lightly.
"The wings," Cohen replied. "They came from your angel deal, didn't they?"
Mephisto smiled. "Seems my son disappointed me."
"I killed him."
"Good."
Cohen narrowed his eyes. "You really are heartless."
"In hell," Mephisto said, almost conversationally, "that counts as kindness."
Cohen stepped forward slightly, his voice steady. "Ready to reunite with him?"
Mephisto paused, then chuckled softly. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to?"
"If this were your true form," Cohen replied, "this city would already be gone. I'm not impressed by a puppet."
The temperature dropped instantly.
Mephisto's eyes sharpened, killing intent flooding the air. "Even a fragment of me is enough to kill you ten times over. Did you forget there are still gates to hell open?"
Cohen laughed, sharp and mocking. "And yet you're still hiding here instead of stepping through them yourself."
Dark energy erupted from Mephisto, warping the air around him. The pressure was immense, suffocating, like standing before a prehistoric beast ready to devour everything in sight.
Cohen felt it clearly—the difference in scale.
This wasn't just another enemy.
This was something far beyond anything he had faced.
And yet, he didn't retreat.
Instead, he grinned. "You know what your biggest mistake is?"
Mephisto tilted his head slightly. "Enlighten me."
Cohen pointed upward. "I've been stalling. So what exactly have you been waiting for?"
Mephisto turned, sensing it too late.
A surge of divine power tore through the sky.
…
From beyond the atmosphere, Mjolnir descended toward Earth. Its trajectory shifted mid-flight, drawn by something unseen, something irresistible.
New York.
"Didn't you hear?" Cohen said, his voice rising with excitement. "I've got another title. God of Thunder."
A blur of motion.
A deafening impact.
Before Mephisto could react, something slammed into his face with overwhelming force. Electricity exploded through his body, locking him in place.
Cohen leapt free of his armor, arms outstretched.
The hammer flew into his grasp.
Power surged instantly, flooding every fiber of his being. It wasn't just energy—it was authority, divine and absolute.
Cohen's eyes widened slightly as realization struck.
The power of Thor.
Lightning roared around him as golden armor and a crimson cape formed from nothing, wrapping around his body as if they had always belonged there.
In the distance, Mephisto staggered, barely steady. "What is this…?" he demanded, fury breaking through his composure.
Cohen didn't answer.
He moved.
Mjolnir carried him forward in a blur, closing the distance instantly. Lightning gathered around the hammer, arcs snapping violently as he swung.
The strike shattered the dark energy surrounding Mephisto, smashing into his face once more with unstoppable force.
The impact sent him crashing into the Hudson River below.
Cohen didn't hesitate.
He raised the hammer high, lightning converging around it as he dove after him.
"Old man," he shouted, grinning like a man who had just broken the rules of the universe itself, "catch this!"
....
Join my P@treon FOR FREE and get 5 advanced chapters.
Paid members can get upto 60+ chapters ahead of the public release.
Link : [email protected]/thebookaddict