Mavuika remained silent for a long time.
Then he reached out his hand.
Thor instinctively shrank back, thinking his big sister was going to hit him.
But Mavuika did not hit him.
He simply extended his index finger and tapped it lightly on his forehead.
The force was very light, as light as a caress.
But Thor felt as if he had been pushed, and he stumbled back a step.
Loki laughed gloatingly from the side.
Then Mavuika's index finger turned toward him and tapped his forehead in the same way.
Loki also stumbled back a step, the smile on his face freezing.
"You two..." Mavuika began, his tone tinged with helplessness: "What am I supposed to say?"
Thor kept his head down, not daring to speak.
Loki also kept his head down, unusually well-behaved.
"Impersonating Father?" Mavuika continued: "You two could actually do something like that?"
Thor lowered his head even further.
"Forcibly opening the Bifrost Bridge?" Mavuika's voice rose slightly: "And you smashed the Bifrost Bridge too?"
Loki scuffed his toes against the ground.
"Father is getting old," Mavuika said, his tone carrying a hint of genuine reproach: "Are you trying to anger him to death?"
Thor raised his head, wanting to say something, but upon seeing Mavuika's gaze, he swallowed his words back down.
Loki stood to the side, just as docile as a little lamb.
The two remained silent for two seconds.
Then they spoke at the same time:
"I'm sorry."
"We were wrong."
The voices were uniform, as if they had rehearsed countless times.
Mavuika looked at them.
Under the moonlight, these two guys, who were usually more troublesome than the other, stood honestly before him, heads bowed, admitting their mistakes, impossibly well-behaved.
Mavuika felt both angry and amused.
He recalled a few thousand years ago, when these two were still little boys, every time they caused trouble, it was the same.
Standing before him, heads bowed, whispering "I'm sorry" or "I was wrong," then peeking at him with those eyes to see if he was really angry.
Back then, he would always pretend to be angry, scolding them with a straight face, and then, after they had apologized enough, he would pull them up, pat the dirt off them, and say, "Don't let it happen again."
A thousand years had passed.
They had grown up and become stronger; one became Thor, and the other became the God of Mischief.
But the way they looked when they caused trouble hadn't changed a bit.
Mavuika sighed softly.
"Forget it," he said.
Thor and Loki raised their heads at the same time, their eyes lighting up.
"Forget it?" Thor asked in surprise: "Big Sister, you're not angry anymore?"
"What's the use of me being angry?" Mavuika said: "It's already like this anyway."
The corners of Loki's mouth lifted slightly.
Mavuika looked at him.
Mavuika's gaze swept across their faces.
"Since you've come to Earth," he said, "you might as well have some fun."
Thor's eyes brightened even more.
"Really? We can stay?"
"Where else would you go?" Mavuika retorted: "Father is currently furious; do you want to wander outside?"
Thor scratched his head.
It seemed there really was nowhere to go.
"But—" Mavuika's tone shifted.
Thor and Loki's hearts tightened again.
"Don't get happy too soon," he said.
The smiles on their faces stiffened.
"Don't think this matter is over," Mavuika said, his gaze lingering on their faces.
"When we return to Asgard, I will personally escort you two to properly apologize to Father."
Thor and Loki exchanged a look.
Then both nodded simultaneously, saying in unison:
"Thank you, Big Sister!"
"When we go back, we will definitely apologize and reflect properly!"
The voices carried a sense of relief, and a hint of... reliance that they themselves hadn't even noticed.
Mavuika watched them, the corners of his mouth slightly lifted.
"Let's go," he said, turning and walking toward the distant mjolnir.
"Pick up your hammer, Thor."
Thor paused for a moment, then quickly followed.
Loki stood where he was, watching their backs.
Under the moonlight, Mavuika's figure was tall and slender, his golden-red hair fluttering gently in the night wind. Thor followed behind him, his tall frame like a loyal guard.
Loki's gaze lingered on Mavuika for a few seconds.
Then he lowered his head and smiled softly.
In that smile, there was warmth, peace of mind, and a hint of a complex emotion he couldn't quite put into words.
It had been several hundred years.
Big Sister was still the same Big Sister.
Still scolding them, still protecting them, still... cleaning up after them whenever they caused trouble.
Loki took a deep breath and stepped forward to follow.
Thor ran to the side of the mjolnir and stood still.
He looked down at the hammer.
The square hammerhead, the short, thick handle, gleaming with a dull metallic luster in the moonlight. It was the weapon he had used for thousands of years, having accompanied him through battles across the Nine Realms, having been through life and death with him, his closest companion.
He reached out and gripped the handle.
Then he pulled with all his might—
The hammer didn't budge.
Thor was taken aback.
He let go, flexed his wrist, and gripped the handle again.
This time, he used even more force, the muscles in his arms tensing—
The hammer still didn't budge.
Thor frowned.
He didn't believe it.
He gripped the handle with both hands, planted his feet, took a deep breath, and used every ounce of his strength—
The hammer still didn't budge.
It was as if it had taken root, stuck firmly to the ground.
Thor's face flushed red.
He let go, stepped back, and stared at the hammer.
Under the moonlight, the mjolnir stood there quietly, like a silent monument.
"How can this be..." Thor muttered.
He tried again.
It didn't work.
He tried one more time.
Still didn't work.
His breathing became rapid, and sweat seeped from his forehead.
Loki stood not far away, arms crossed over his chest, watching this scene with great interest.
"It seems Father's spell is real," he said, his tone tinged with gloating: "You can't lift it now."
Thor turned back and glared at him.
"Shut up!"
"Why should I shut up?" Loki raised an eyebrow: "I think it's quite good. You rely on the hammer too much; someone who didn't know better might think you're the God of Hammers."
Thor's expression turned ugly.
"What do you mean, God of Hammers?"
Loki spread his hands: "Every time you fight, the first thing you do is shout 'mjolnir!' Without the hammer, what else can you do?"
"There's plenty I can do!"
"For example?"
"For example—for example—"
Thor opened his mouth, finding he couldn't actually say anything.
He really did rely on the mjolnir too much.
That hammer had accompanied him for thousands of years and had become a part of his body; without it, he felt as if he had lost an arm.
Loki watched his expression, the smile on his lips deepening.
"What? Can't say anything?"
Thor gritted his teeth.
"Isn't it all because of your terrible idea!" He roared: "Otherwise, how would I have lost my hammer!"
Loki raised an eyebrow.
"My idea?"
"It was you!"
"I didn't tell you to smash the Bifrost Bridge."
"That was to help you!"
"Help me?" Loki curled his lip: "I didn't ask you to help!"
Thor's face flushed even redder.
"You—"