Thinking about the future tragedy of Asgard was depressing.
Even Loki died a "glorious death" in that timeline, finally earning his title as the Second Prince of Asgard by choking out his last breath against Thanos.
Who could have imagined that Asgard, currently a top-tier god-level civilization feared across the cosmos, would end up so miserable?
It proved the old saying: A cunning rabbit has three burrows. Don't put all your eggs in one basket.
Asgard didn't understand this logic. They put everyone on one planet, and boom—someone kicked the pot over. Almost wiped out the entire species.
Even without Hela, Asgard wouldn't have escaped Thanos. The only difference was the casualty rate.
Thanos, the Director of the Universal Planning Commission, would only wipe out half the population. He was oddly principled like that.
Hela, on the other hand? She didn't need living subjects. She wanted an army of the dead. She would have killed everyone to fuel her necromancy.
But honestly, Thanos wasn't great at math.
He sacrificed everything—his daughter, his army, his life—just to cut the universe's population by 50%.
Based on normal biological growth rates, most civilizations would repopulate to their original numbers within a few decades.
All that effort, all that tragedy, just to delay universal development by fifty years?
On a cosmic timescale, fifty years was a blink of an eye. It was like working yourself to death to enforce birth control, only for everyone to have a baby boom the moment you died.
Basically: Task failed successfully.
The feast ended.
Lucas was still energetic. His Kryptonian physique processed alcohol like water. Even the Asgardian mead, potent enough to knock out a god, couldn't keep him down.
He politely declined Thor's offer to rest and headed straight for the library.
"This section contains the magic texts we've collected over the years, along with specific spellbooks. Hope it helps," Thor said, pushing open the heavy doors of a massive reading room.
This wasn't the core Royal Archive—that was restricted. This was the public library, open to Asgardian citizens.
But for Lucas, it was a goldmine.
"Thanks," Lucas said.
"Knock yourself out. Just looking at these books gives me a headache," Thor grimaced. "If you need anything, tell the maids outside. Or send for me."
"Will do," Lucas nodded.
Thor left, and Lucas didn't waste time. He levitated straight to the top shelf, bypassing the need for a ladder.
Thor glanced back before closing the door, envy flashing in his eyes. He could fly too, but only because Mjolnir pulled him. Lucas flew under his own power. That freedom was something else.
Lucas opened the first book.
His Super Vision scanned the titles in seconds, organizing a catalog in his Super Brain. He analyzed the structure of the library instantly.
There were books from countless civilizations, including Earth.
Lucas decided to start with the Kamar-Taj section.
He picked up a tome and began to read. His speed was terrifying—ten lines at a glance. His Super Brain deconstructed the theory as fast as his eyes could track the text.
As he suspected, Kamar-Taj magic was designed for humans.
It relied on borrowing power from extradimensional entities—mostly the Vishanti.
But borrowing came with risks. If you contacted the wrong entity, you could be corrupted. Fail to resist the whispers, and you became a dark mage or a fallen zealot (like Kaecilius).
Succeed, and you became the Ancient One.
Or better yet, you became a Super Deadbeat. You borrowed power from demons and just... never paid it back. What were they going to do? Sue you?
Some spells were proprietary—like those in the Darkhold, which required drawing from the Dark Dimension and Dormammu.
But others were universal. As long as you had mana, you could cast them.
The one Lucas wanted most was the Sling Ring Portal.
Theoretically, this spell had no range limit. With enough mana and focus, you could open a portal to deep space, or even other dimensions.
It only depended on the caster's visualization and energy reserves.
Lucas decided to learn it immediately. No more plane tickets. No more TSA. Just swish-swish, and he was anywhere.
Following the instructions, Lucas raised his hand and began the circular motion.
He focused his intent.
A few seconds later, sparks flew. A fiery orange circle expanded in front of him. Through the portal, he could see the broken rainbow shards of the Bifrost bridge.
"Success!" Lucas grinned.
With the Magic Immunity / High Mana Body he received from the system, his affinity for magic was off the charts. He didn't even need a Sling Ring. He brute-forced the spell with raw mana and perfect control.
And thanks to sun-dipping, his mana pool was constantly regenerating. He didn't need to borrow from the Vishanti or Dormammu. He was his own battery.
Encouraged, Lucas pulled out a book on Asgardian Magic.
After reading a few pages, he understood why Thor hated it.
Asgardian magic was fundamentally different from Kamar-Taj.
Kamar-Taj magic was "Hack the System"—borrowing admin privileges from gods to rewrite reality.
Asgardian magic was "System Architecture"—it relied on internal power, often called the Odinforce (or more accurately, Asgardian Life Force).
This power was hereditary. It was rooted in their blood. Over time, as they aged, it grew stronger.
This explained Thor's progression. He started as a "God of Hammers," needing a tool to focus his baby power. Eventually, he would awaken his true potential and become the God of Thunder, capable of fighting Hela (briefly) without Mjolnir.
And even though it was called the "Odinforce," it didn't come from Odin. It came from the Asgardian royal bloodline itself, stretching back to Bor and Buri.
Odin just happened to have the biggest pool of it right now.