To buy time, the Warriors Three and Lady Sif charged in together, throwing everything they had at the Destroyer.
It didn't matter.
It was just armor, but it was armor that didn't bleed, didn't tire, and didn't flinch. No tendons to cut. No organs to puncture. No weak point you could exploit.
They could only fight and retreat, fight and retreat, getting pushed back street by street.
Tony Stark watched the footage like a starving man watching a feast.
His eyes practically lit up.
"Yes. Yes. This is exactly what I want," he said, voice tight with excitement.
Sif had landed a clean ambush, driving her blade straight through the Destroyer's neck.
If Tony's suit took a hit like that, the fight would be over. If he was inside it, he might be dead. Even unmanned, that kind of strike would shred wiring, wreck systems, and turn his proud engineering into scrap.
But the Destroyer didn't even register it.
No cables. No circuitry. No visible engine. No tech logic Tony could trace.
It was something else entirely.
Magic-built. Remote-driven. And apparently it could be controlled from across worlds.
A suit you could send into hell while you stayed safely at home.
That was the dream.
Tony's grin faltered only when reality caught up. He didn't have the science for it. Not yet. Maybe not ever, unless someone handed him a bridge between technology and sorcery.
His gaze slid toward Thor, calculating.
Maybe one day.
On screen, the Destroyer carved through the town like a metal hurricane. People sprinted. Buildings shattered. Every attempt at counterattack was swatted aside like an insult.
It wasn't a battle.
It was a slow, humiliating evacuation under the shadow of something that couldn't be stopped.
Then Thor made his decision.
He couldn't let his friends die.
He couldn't let Jane die.
And without his power, he couldn't win.
So he chose the only move he had left.
He stepped in front of the Destroyer and turned to Sif.
"Sif," Thor said, firm but gentle. "You've done enough. More than enough."
"No," Sif snapped, eyes blazing. "If I fall, I fall as a warrior. Let today's tale be sung."
It wasn't bravado.
It was how Asgard raised them.
Thor shook his head.
"Live," he said. "Then tell the story yourself, to children who still have a future. Go."
He looked past her to the Warriors Three.
"Return to Asgard. Stop Loki. I have my own plan."
As they backed away, Thor did the opposite.
He walked forward.
Not in rage.
Not in pride.
In understanding.
For the first time, he truly understood what his father had tried to teach him.
He'd never feared death. Glory in battle had always sounded like the most natural ending in the world.
But this was different.
He wasn't fighting for applause.
He wasn't dying for legend.
He was standing here to protect people who couldn't protect themselves.
And if that meant giving up everything he once worshipped, including the glory he'd chased his entire life, then so be it.
He reached the Destroyer and lifted his chin.
"Brother," Thor said, voice rough. "If I wronged you, if I pushed you down this path, then I'm sorry."
He took one more step closer.
"But these people are innocent. Killing them brings you no honor."
Thor spread his arms.
"If you want someone dead, take me."
He swallowed.
"Then end this. Let them live."
The Destroyer stopped.
It turned, slowly, like it was considering his offer.
It began to walk away.
Outside the video, the real Thor's face lit up.
"He still has me," Thor said, almost laughing with relief. "He still cares. I told you. Loki isn't truly evil."
After everything Lucas had written, after all the looming loss and that ugly word cursed, Thor clung to this moment like a lifeline.
If the future was a storm, then this was proof that the storm could change direction.
He could still keep what mattered.
Even Loki.
But before anyone could answer, the footage proved how cruel hope could be.
The Destroyer, halfway turned away, snapped back and struck without warning.
A single brutal blow.
Thor's smile froze on his face.
He'd been so sure. So desperate to believe that beneath the betrayal, there was still a brother.
Reality answered with a fist.
Thor staggered, weightless, helpless.
He wasn't the God of Thunder right now.
He was just a man.
And a man couldn't take that hit.
Is this it?
Am I dying?
Thor's eyes widened, disbelief swallowing him whole.
So this was the end?
Not in some glorious war for Asgard.
Not on a battlefield crowned in thunder.
On Earth.
Powerless.
Just another mortal body breaking in the dirt.
Around the room, everyone flinched as if they'd been hit too.
A moment ago, they'd been talking about Loki like a complicated soul. A prince with feelings. Someone who might mourn his mother, someone who might still have a line he wouldn't cross.
And then he crossed it.
No hesitation.
No mercy.
No brotherhood.
Fury's voice cut through the shock.
"No," he said, low and certain. "This isn't over yet."
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