[A few days later] [Midnight]
Thor stood in the kitchen staring into an empty refrigerator like it had personally betrayed him. The light glowed softly over bare shelves and a lonely bottle of mustard that looked as tired as he felt. Behind him, in the corner of the living room, a small mountain of beer cans and liquor bottles leaned against the wall in silent judgment.
He scratched his beard and closed the fridge with a slow push.
"Well," he muttered to himself, "this is unfortunate."
The apartment smelled like stale alcohol and existential crisis. Tony gave him a place to live, and he also assigned some bots to clean the place almost every two or three days.
Thor squinted at the wall clock.
Midnight felt like an acceptable hour for heroic grocery acquisition.
Thor grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair and checked the inside pocket for the card Tony had given him. Stark had shoved it into his hand during one of their last awkward conversations, muttering something about unlimited credit and responsible usage. Thor did not entirely understand the concept of credit, but he appreciated the vote of confidence.
He nodded to himself with grave seriousness.
A warrior must replenish supplies.
"I suppose mortal currency will suffice for tonight," he said, trying to inject dignity into the sentence and failing halfway through.
His eyes drifted across the room to the hammer resting against the wall.
Mjolnir sat there exactly as it had since the day he brought it to the compound through a remote teleportation unit.
Thor walked over and crouched beside it.
He reached out and let his fingers hover just above the handle without touching it, as though proximity alone might trigger some forgotten spark. "I shall return shortly," he said with a dramatic flourish of his hand. "Try not to judge me too harshly while I procure nourishment."
The hammer did not respond, which felt rude given their shared past.
He stood up and gave the hammer a small, almost sheepish wave before turning toward the door.
[Outside]
Thor locked the apartment door and stepped into the hallway. The elevator ride down felt longer than usual. The building was quiet, the kind of silence that made every footstep sound louder than it should.
Outside, it was really cold.
The street was empty except for a few trucks rolling past. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed and faded.
Thor took a slow walk down the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, eyes roaming over storefronts that had already pulled down their metal shutters. He passed a closed deli and paused to read the sign advertising breakfast sandwiches. He considered it deeply and then remembered he was on a mission for groceries, not philosophical reflection.
Halfway down the block, footsteps shifted behind him.
Three men walked out from between two parked vans. They wore hoodies and had their hands in their pockets.
The tallest one spoke first.
"Hey, big guy. Nice jacket."
Thor stopped and turned politely. "Thank you. It is mid-weight leather. Very practical in cold climates."
The second man blinked. "Yeah. Sure. Listen, we do not want trouble."
"That is excellent," Thor replied with visible relief. "Neither do I."
The first man stepped closer. "So just hand over your wallet and nobody gets hurt."
'What is a wallet?' Thor frowned slightly. "My wallet?"
"Yeah. Your cash, phone and anything shiny."
Thor reached into his jacket and pulled out Tony's sleek black card. He examined it with mild confusion. "You require this rectangle of authority."
The third man sighed. "Man, just give it here."
Thor held the card up between two fingers and looked at it like it might explain the situation. "Is this some sort of toll for walking after midnight?"
The tall one rubbed his forehead. "It is called a mugging."
Thor's brows lifted with genuine interest. "Mugging."
"Yeah," the second guy said. "We take your stuff. You go home. That is how it works."
Thor looked impressed. "You simply request resources from strangers on the road and they comply?"
The third one pulled a small knife from his pocket and let the blade catch the streetlight. "They comply because we persuade them."
Thor's eyes shifted to the knife. He leaned forward slightly, studying it like a craftsman appraising mediocre work. "That blade is unevenly balanced. The weight distribution will strain your wrist if used repeatedly."
The man with the knife blinked. "What?"
"In Asgard," Thor continued calmly, "if one desired the possessions of another, one challenged them to honorable combat. Or one attended a feast and asked politely. This arrangement seems less festive."
The tall one stepped closer and pushed Thor's chest lightly. It felt like nudging a brick wall.
"Are you stupid or something?"
Thor tilted his head. "I have been called many things. Stupid is rarely among them."
"Give us the wallet," the second guy insisted, pulling out a handgun and pointing it at Thor's torso with shaky confidence.
Thor looked down at the weapon. He nodded slowly. "Ah. Now we escalate the discussion."
The tall one smirked. "Yeah. Now you get it."
Thor raised a hand gently. "Before we proceed, I have a question. If I surrender this card, you will use it to acquire goods from merchants?"
"Yeah," the knife guy said.
"And these merchants will provide you with items in exchange for numbers stored within a banking system that belongs to Tony Stark?"
The three men stared at him.
The third one took a step back. "Did you say Tony Stark?"
"Yeah," Thor nodded.
He looked at his two friends. "Fuck! We should get out of here, man."
"Stop being a pussy," The second one said. "Tony Stark ain't got time to deal with little things like a mugging. He's busy with super villains and politics. Besides, that card could be a fake to scare us. Nowadays, you can simply buy custom skins like that for a few bucks. And lately, with all the high-tech civilian weapons, our job has gotten harder." He pointed at Thor. "Look at him. He has no weapon on him and that jacket is expensive... he looks like a spoiled rich brat who got out after getting wasted. So, stop being a pussy and man up for once."
"Give us the card and the code," The first one said.
Thor's expression softened with sudden understanding. "You are attempting to steal from Stark?"
The knife guy shrugged. "Guess so."
Thor straightened his back slowly.
"You should have led with that," he said in a quieter voice. "That changes the nature of this encounter."
The tall one laughed nervously. "What are you going to do? Lecture us to death?"
Thor slipped the card back into his pocket. "You have chosen poorly. Stark may be insufferable at times, but he saved the universe, countless gods, including me and offered me shelter in my lowest hour. That grants him my protection whether he requests it or not."
"What the fuck are you rambling on about?" The man with the gun tightened his grip. "Last chance. Give us the card and the code."
Thor stepped forward.
The gun fired.
The shot rang out across the empty street. The bullet struck Thor square in the chest and flattened against his skin before dropping to the pavement with a soft metallic clink.
All three men froze.
Thor looked down at the fallen bullet and then back up at them with mild disappointment. "I truly hoped we would avoid this portion of the night."
The knife clattered to the ground as its owner backed up a full step.
"What are you?" he whispered.
"A superhuman? Mutant?" The one with the gun stuttered.
"Just an Asgardian," Thor answered truthfully as he flexed his fingers slowly. The faintest flicker of electricity danced across his knuckles like a memory trying to wake up.
The tall one turned to run.
He managed three steps before Thor moved.
Despite the alcohol still lingering in his system, Thor closed the distance in a single bound and lifted the man gently by the back of his hoodie like a misbehaving child. He did not slam him into anything. He simply held him suspended above the sidewalk.
"This custom of mugging," Thor said thoughtfully, "does not appear sustainable for long-term survival."
The other two tried to bolt in opposite directions.
Thor stomped one foot lightly against the asphalt. A small shockwave rippled outward, knocking both men off their feet without breaking bones or pride beyond repair.
The street fell quiet again.
Thor set the tall one back down carefully. "Return to your homes. Reflect upon your life decisions. Consider employment that does not involve threatening strangers in the cold."
The three men scrambled up without argument and ran as if chased by something far worse than a grocery-deprived god.
Thor watched them disappear around the corner. He looked down at the flattened bullet and picked it up between two fingers.
He sighed.
"Midnight errands are far more complicated than they ought to be."
He slipped the bullet into his pocket as a souvenir and resumed his slow walk toward the brightly lit supermarket at the end of the block, determined to conquer the true challenge of the night.
Finding a crate of beer.
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