Chapter 252. On the Method of Forging the Hammer
The spectacle of the hammer had left the party-goers in a state of hushed awe. Noah immediately pulled Gwen aside, his eyes scanning her for any signs of magical fatigue or spiritual interference. He checked her pulse, her mana flow, and the resonance of her soul. To his immense relief, she was perfectly fine.
Mjölnir was a fickle thing; it shared the power of the storm and the authority of Odin, but it was usually an additive force. When Gwen had lifted it, the hammer had attempted to flood her system with divine Asgardian energy, much like it would later do for Jane Foster in another timeline. However, the moment that alien power touched Gwen's skin, it hit an immovable wall. The ancient runes woven into Gwen's very being—the magic of her origin—flared up in silent defense, rejecting the intrusion. She had lifted the hammer not by becoming Thor, but by being Gwen.
Noah pondered the reason. Perhaps, like Captain America, she simply possessed a fundamental goodness. Though she had only recently walked the world in human form, she carried the gentle spirit of her creator, Isolde. She had stood against the madness of Viego, risking her existence to preserve the world's light.
To Noah, she was a simple, kind-hearted girl, even if she had a bit of a mischievous, «black-bellied» streak when she wanted to tease him. Is that enough for the hammer? he wondered. Or did the hammer just think she was cute and decide to give her a pass?
He knew the criteria for «worthiness» weren't as rigid as people thought. Even Steve Rogers, the gold standard of morality, was capable of keeping secrets and making questionable choices for the sake of a friend. Perfect nobility wasn't a requirement—only a certain alignment of the soul.
Still, the «why» was secondary to her health. He made a mental note to conduct a more rigorous examination once they were back in the privacy of their own home.
Rejoining the group, Noah found the scientists still huddled together, their faces lit with the fire of intellectual discovery. The Asgardian princes had already departed for their realm, but the mystery of Mjölnir remained. Dr. Selvig was gesturing wildly at the hammer.
«It's a physiological impossibility!» Selvig exclaimed. «It weighs nothing to the table, yet it's an anchor to the world for everyone else. And it hangs on a simple coat hook in Thor's quarters! Why doesn't the wall collapse?»
«You're overthinking it, Erik. It's not physics; it's just magic,» Tony said, dismissively waving a hand. He mimicked the intricate finger gestures Noah often used to weave illusions.
«Stark? Don't tell me you've suddenly become an expert on the mystic arts,» Bruce remarked with a dry, tired smile.
«Me? God, no. But the Master of the Mystic Arts is standing right there,» Tony said, nodding toward the approaching Noah. «Let the professional explain it before Selvig has an aneurysm.»
Noah stepped into the circle, the light from the chandeliers reflecting in his calm eyes. «I couldn't help but overhear. You're right to be confused, but Tony is partially correct. Mjölnir doesn't exert pressure on its environment because the runes allow it to manipulate its own gravitational footprint.»
He paused, letting the weight of the information sink in. «Mjölnir was forged from the heart of a dying neutron star, crafted by the Dwarven smiths of Nidavellir. Because of its origin, its base density is astronomical, giving it unparalleled destructive force. The enchantments simply allow it to ignore gravity when it isn't being wielded by someone the hammer 'recognizes'.»
«A neutron star?» Bruce breathed, his scientific mind reeling. «The pressure required to forge such a thing... the heat... how is that even possible?»
«And Dwarves?» Tony interrupted, his eyes wide. «Are we talking the Disney version? Three feet tall, pickaxes, a strange obsession with gold and whistling while they work?»
Noah sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips as he remembered the massive, towering figures he knew from the cosmic lore of this universe. «I don't know about their taste in music or gold, but 'little' is the last word I'd use. The Dwarves of Nidavellir stand about fifteen to twenty feet tall. They're giants in every sense of the word.»
«Wait, what?» Tony blinked, his drink stopping halfway to his mouth. «Twenty feet tall? And they call them Dwarves? Whoever named their race has a very dark sense of humor.»
«They are the premier smiths of the galaxy,» Noah continued, his tone turning more serious. «They harness the concentrated beams of neutron stars to smelt Uru metal. They are a powerful, ancient people under the protection of Asgard.»
He didn't mention the grim fate that awaited them in his memories—how Thanos would eventually descend upon their forge, forcing them to craft the Infinity Gauntlet before slaughtering them all. Some things were better left unsaid for now.
«Incredible,» Selvig whispered, his eyes distant as he looked toward the ceiling, as if trying to peer through the roof and into the cosmos. «A whole universe of civilizations... though I could do without the ones that try to turn New York into a crater.»
«I think we all share that sentiment, Doctor,» Bruce added. «The veil is thinning. Humanity is finally realizing we aren't the only ones at the table. It's a terrifying thought, but an important one.»
Tony nodded, his usual bravado softened by a rare moment of introspection. In the original timeline, his flight through the portal with a nuclear missile had left him shattered by PTSD, a man haunted by the scale of the cosmic threats. Here, the Chitauri invasion had been just as eye-opening. He realized that Earth was a glass house in a neighborhood full of people throwing boulders. His mission was no longer just about building better toys; it was about building a shield.
He looked around the room—at Noah, the man who knew too much; at Bruce, the man with the monster inside; at his friends and colleagues. He had a family to protect now, especially with the cryptic hint Noah had dropped about a future daughter.
«Which brings me to a certain project,» Tony said, lowering his voice. «Nick Fury, the guy with the eyepatch and the trust issues, is putting together a response team. He calls it the 'Avengers Initiative'. He wants a group of remarkable people to see if they can be something more.»
He looked at Noah and Bruce specifically. «Colson's been riding my back to keep this quiet, but I was never good at following directions. And frankly, I think you guys deserve to know what's coming.»
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