Ethan Blake turned his head calmly and spoke in an even tone. "Maybe I should introduce myself properly first. My name is Ethan Blake, and my profession is a prophet. I walk along the long river of time from time to time, observing the past, the present, and the future. So when I say Odin didn't die, I'm speaking from something I saw with my own eyes. He merely entered the state known as Odin's Sleep, and he could awaken again at any moment."
The Aesir were a race favored by the universe itself. Their lifespans were extraordinarily long, and their strength increased steadily as they aged, making them far more powerful than most other beings. Over thousands of years, their divine power accumulated and grew stronger with time.
However, Odin himself had become too powerful. His aging body could no longer safely contain the constantly increasing divine energy within him. Because of that, he was forced to enter Odin's Sleep periodically, a deep restorative state meant to stabilize and suppress the continued growth of his divine power.
Hearing Ethan's explanation and seeing the serious expression on his face, Thor's confidence wavered slightly. Just moments ago he had firmly believed Loki's words without question. Now doubt crept into his mind despite his stubborn nature.
Thor frowned and stared at him. "How do you prove it?"
"How do I prove it?" Ethan smiled faintly as if the question amused him. "For example, earlier when Laufey mentioned the so-called little princess of Asgard, you were instantly provoked. And on the Bifrost bridge, you pointed directly at your father and called him a stubborn old man. Or how about—"
"Alright! That's enough. You don't need to continue."
Thor cut him off abruptly, his face flushed with embarrassment. The memories clearly hit their mark, and he didn't want them listed one after another in front of everyone. After a moment, the embarrassment gave way to excitement.
"If what you're saying is true," Thor said eagerly, "then my father really isn't dead. He only entered Odin's Sleep. But if that's the case… why would Loki lie to me?"
"The throne."
Ethan answered with only two words.
Thor's expression changed several times as he processed the meaning behind that simple statement. His brows tightened, and his jaw clenched before he finally spoke again.
"If Father isn't dead, then I need to return to Asgard immediately. I must explain everything to him in person. If Loki truly wants the throne, he can have it. I don't care about ruling. I just want to go home."
Ethan was momentarily speechless. How exactly had Odin raised this kid? Fifteen hundred years of parenting had produced someone this painfully straightforward.
On second thought, Odin might simply have been terrible at raising children. Loki, Thor, Hela—each one seemed more troublesome than the last.
"You can't go back."
Ethan's words cut straight through Thor's determination.
"As someone who was personally exiled by the All-Father," he continued, "Heimdall wouldn't and couldn't send you back to Asgard. Even if he wanted to help you, he wouldn't dare disobey Odin's command."
Thor froze as the reality of the situation struck him. The hopeful image he had built in his mind shattered instantly.
Suddenly, he seemed to remember something. Thor stepped forward quickly and grabbed Ethan by the arms, his expression filled with urgency.
"You're a prophet from Earth. If anyone here knows a way back to Asgard, it has to be you. You must have some method to send me home, right?"
Ethan almost laughed internally. I'm basically making half of this up, and he doesn't doubt it at all.
"I'm sorry," Ethan replied calmly. "I can't do that."
Thor's shoulders slumped, the light fading from his eyes. Before the disappointment could sink in completely, Ethan added another sentence.
"But there is someone who can."
Thor immediately looked up again. "Who?"
"If there's anyone on Earth capable of sending you back to Asgard," Ethan thought privately, "it's probably the Ancient One." Of course, that was information he absolutely could not reveal.
If Thor suddenly abandoned Mjolnir and ran straight to the Himalayas searching for the Ancient One, Odin would probably wake up from his sleep just to personally hammer Ethan into the ground.
"That person is you," Ethan said.
Thor blinked, completely confused. "Me? How could I possibly do it? I've been exiled."
"You were exiled, yes," Ethan replied patiently. "But if you lift Mjolnir again, then you'll once again be Thor of Asgard. And as Thor of Asgard, Heimdall will naturally be obligated to respond to your call."
Thor's expression darkened.
"My father stripped away my divine power," he said bitterly. "Without it, I can't lift Mjolnir."
"Then regain it and lift it again," Ethan said casually. "Looks like someone's here to bail you out anyway. Leave this place first and think about it carefully."
After saying that, Ethan turned and walked away without giving Thor another opportunity to ask questions.
…
Inside the command room, Captain America had been listening to the entire conversation between Ethan and Thor through the surveillance feed. He looked toward Phil Coulson with curiosity written across his face.
"What exactly is a prophet?" Steve asked. "Is it like the ones from legends? That would explain how he knew about HYDRA."
Phil Coulson gave an awkward smile. "Sorry, Captain. I'm not entirely sure either."
Despite having interacted with Ethan many times, Coulson honestly knew very little about him. In fact, most of the information S.H.I.E.L.D. possessed about Ethan had been classified at Level Ten clearance.
And Coulson himself was only a Level Eight agent.
"Phil Coulson, it's not very polite to talk about someone behind their back."
Ethan suddenly appeared in the room.
Steve Rogers immediately stood up straighter. "Sorry about that. I was the one asking questions. Agent Coulson was just answering me."
"I doubt Mr. Ethan Blake would mind," Coulson said with a friendly smile.
"As long as you're not saying bad things about me, I definitely won't mind," Ethan said with a shrug. "Even if you do say bad things, that's fine too—as long as I don't hear it."
He glanced around the room before casually changing the subject.
"It's almost noon. So… what are we having for lunch?"
…
After lunch, Ethan began complaining to Phil Coulson while leaning back in his chair.
"To be honest, the food at your S.H.I.E.L.D. base is terrible. It's not even as good as what the FBI serves."
Coulson glanced around to make sure Nick Fury wasn't nearby before lowering his voice.
"I actually submitted a suggestion about improving the cafeteria," he whispered. "But it was rejected. The director said the agency's budget is tight."
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Do you know where all the funding for this agency actually goes?"
"Huh?"
Coulson paused for a moment. After thinking carefully, his expression slowly turned serious.
"Could it be… HYDRA?"
"Oh please."
Ethan rolled his eyes.
"Let me tell you something honestly. If Alexander Pierce weren't secretly part of HYDRA, and if HYDRA didn't have branches spread across various military and political departments, your so-called S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't even receive half the funding it currently gets. I'll tell you the truth—most of the money in your agency was pocketed by that one-eyed guy."
He paused before continuing.
"Otherwise where do you think he got the funds for all those safe houses scattered around the world?"
Nick Fury's safe houses weren't the typical hidden apartments most people imagined. Many of them were equipped with Quinjet landing pads, missile silos, and other heavy military assets.
Each safe house was practically a small independent military base capable of operating on its own.
"Really?" Coulson said thoughtfully. "That actually explains why the benefits have gotten so much worse compared to when Director Pierce was in charge."
"Ahem."
A sudden cough came from directly behind Coulson.
Coulson froze instantly.
He slowly turned his head, only to see Nick Fury standing there with his single eye fixed squarely on him.
Coulson forced out a smile that looked more painful than crying.
"Dir… Director."
Inside, he felt like collapsing.
It's over. I probably won't get another vacation for the next three years.
Just then, a loud alarm suddenly echoed throughout the facility.
"Enemy detected! All personnel on alert! Enemy detected! All personnel on alert!" an agent shouted urgently.
Ethan frowned.
What kind of enemy would show up right now? It couldn't possibly be the Destroyer already knocking on the door, could it?
When he stepped outside, he saw four figures—three men and one woman—wearing heavy armor. Each of them carried cold weapons, and their strange hairstyles made them stand out even more as they clashed directly with the agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
....
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