"But Loki doesn't look anything like a Frost Giant!" Thor protested, still refusing to believe it.
"You live in a world of magic," Fury shot back. "How hard would it be to use a spell to hide someone's true appearance?"
"Well… not hard," Thor admitted reluctantly.
Disguising someone's identity with magic wasn't difficult at all. And in Asgard, only two people had the skill to pull off such a powerful, lasting enchantment: Odin, the All-Father, and Frigga, the Queen.
If anyone knew whether Loki was truly their son, it would be them.
But they had never told Thor. They'd kept the secret his entire life, allowing him to believe Loki was his blood brother.
Now, whether Thor wanted to accept it or not, the truth was staring him in the face.
And he felt like an idiot.
He'd never questioned Loki. When Loki said Odin was dead, Thor had believed him without hesitation. He hadn't even considered the possibility that his father might still be alive.
He'd been so consumed by grief—devastated that he'd killed his father with his recklessness, and that he could no longer lift Mjolnir—that he'd accepted Loki's lie at face value.
He'd been played. Completely.
But this time, strangely, Thor didn't feel devastated.
Because if Loki had lied about Odin's death, that meant his father was still alive.
No matter how many times Loki had deceived him, no matter how cruel the tricks, Thor would forgive him a thousand times over if it meant Odin wasn't dead.
For once, he wanted to be lied to.
He felt… relieved.
Fury studied Thor carefully, and something clicked.
No wonder Odin refused to pass the throne to Loki, even though he clearly loved his adopted son. No matter how much affection he held for Loki, one principle remained absolute: you don't hand the ancestral kingdom to an outsider.
That rule transcended time, culture, and species.
Even though Thor was nowhere near ready to be king, Odin was still orchestrating this entire trial to force him to grow. Because Thor was the only legitimate heir left.
Well, except for one.
Hela.
"Who's Hela?" Coulson asked, glancing at the diary entry. "In Earth's Norse mythology, Hela is Loki's daughter. But that doesn't seem right anymore. And Lucas just said Odin would rather give the throne to Hela than to Loki… so could she be a relative of yours?"
Coulson was learning fast. Earth's Norse legends clearly weren't reliable historical records. Many of the figures in the myths didn't exist—or existed in completely different forms.
"Hela?" Thor's brow furrowed. "I've never heard of anyone by that name. My father was an only child, so our family line is just me and Loki. There are no other relatives."
But even as he said it, doubt crept into his voice. He couldn't afford to dismiss anything Lucas wrote anymore. Too much of it had already come true.
"We don't know who Hela is yet," Fury said slowly, "but if Lucas mentioned her, she's probably real. And if she exists in Norse mythology and in Lucas's diary, there's a good chance she'll show up eventually."
He paused, thinking it through.
"Logically speaking, succession usually prioritizes sons, then daughters, then adopted children. So Hela is most likely your father's daughter—or maybe his niece. For some reason, she hasn't been in Asgard, which is why you don't know her."
Fury's analysis resonated with everyone in the room, including Thor.
If Hela had a legitimate claim to the throne, her bloodline had to be close to Odin's. That meant she was family—close family.
"But regardless," Fury continued, "she'd still be a better choice than Loki. If I remember correctly, the Frost Giants are your enemies, right? Which makes Loki the son of your enemy's king. No matter how you slice it, the throne would never go to him."
Thor nodded slowly. He wasn't naive. Growing up in the royal court, he'd absorbed enough political awareness to understand the reality.
Thor wasn't stupid. He was strong—absurdly strong—blessed with the power of lightning from birth and crowned the God of Thunder at a young age. Because of that strength, he'd spent his life solving problems with his fists instead of his brain. Over time, he'd become a warrior first and a thinker second.
But that didn't make him a fool.
A fool could never become a king.
No matter how much he loved Loki, no matter how little he personally cared about the throne, Thor had to consider what the people of Asgard thought.
The throne wasn't a family heirloom. It represented the will of an entire civilization.
And Asgard and Jotunheim had been at war for centuries. Every family in the Nine Realms had lost someone to the Frost Giants. How could they accept one as their king?
It was impossible. Unthinkable.
His father's reluctance made perfect sense now. Just as Lucas had written: You can share love with an adopted brother. But you don't hand over the ancestral kingdom to an outsider.
"At least your father is still alive, right?" Tony's voice came through the video call, tinged with something bitter. "That means you still have a chance to pass his test."
His expression was complicated—somewhere between envy and pain.
What Tony wouldn't give to have a brother tell him, It was all a lie. Dad's not really dead. This is just a test.
If only it were a test. If only he could stand before Howard Stark and say, Look at me now. Look at what I've accomplished. I'm just as good as you—maybe better.
But he'd never get that chance.
So despite everything, Tony felt a strange, bitter jealousy toward Thor. Jealousy that Thor still had the opportunity to prove himself to his father.
"That's right," Fury said firmly. "This is good news. Now you just need to figure out what kind of test your father wants you to pass."
At the same time, Fury's mind clicked into place.
Earlier, he'd theorized that Thor was only on the second stage of his trial—that the third stage hadn't begun yet. And he'd wondered who the final enemy would be. Who could possibly serve as the ultimate challenge in Thor's redemption arc?
Now, the answer was obvious.
Loki.
The God of Mischief. The adopted prince of Asgard. The liar who'd deceived his brother and stolen the throne.
Minutes ago, Thor had been singing Loki's praises, and Fury had believed him.
Not anymore.