The screen continued, the famous scene far from over...
[On the battlefield, the skies roared as Iron Man activated the high-powered boosters of the Mark VII suit, its engines igniting with a deafening roar.
Like a comet streaking across the heavens, he shot forward—
A fiery blur of red and gold cut through the sky with the speed of a falling star.
Boom!
The very ground trembled as Iron Man struck Thor like a divine spear, sending the God of Thunder crashing into the land below with the force of a collapsing mountain, Thor's body driven into the dirt.
Chunks of shattered stone and debris scattered through the air as a storm of dust erupted, momentarily obscuring the battlefield in a thick, suffocating fog.
But then, through the settling haze, a figure rose.
A stirring.
Thor, undeterred, emerged from the destruction.
The dust fell away, revealing his form standing tall and unmoved, his broad chest heaving with breath, but his body showing no signs of injury.
His sapphire eyes, filled with the might of the storm, burned with unyielding determination.
Lightning crackled around him, arcing between the plates of his armor and dancing upon the surface of Mjolnir.
Then, with a smirk tugging at his lips, he spoke.
"Try to touch me again?"
Hovering above, Iron Man's repulsors hummed ominously, his arc reactor a blazing core of energy. His voice, smug and unwavering, cut through the battlefield.
"Then don't steal my things."
Thor's grip tightened around Mjolnir, his patience wearing thin.
"Do you even know who you are speaking to, mortal?"
Tony Stark, ever the provocateur, tilted his head, his mechanical eyes narrowing with mischief.]
"A Shakespearean actor? Does your mother know you stole her curtains to make that ridiculous cape?"
For a brief moment, silence reigned.
Then—
With a roar that shook the heavens, Thor launched forward, his hammer raised high.
The power of the storm surged through him, divine energy crackling around Mjolnir like an unchained tempest.
With the force of a thousand thunderstorms, he brought his weapon down upon Iron Man.
Boom!
A deafening explosion of electricity and divine power erupted as Mjolnir connected, sending Iron Man hurtling like a broken star.
The force of the blow shattered the ground beneath them, sending shockwaves that rippled outward like the wrath of the gods themselves.
Iron Man's armor screamed under sheer pressure, damage reports flashing red across his HUD. His arc reactor flickered as emergency systems scrambled to keep him in the fight.
But in an instant—
Half of his lifeblood was drained.]
Asgard – The Royal Palace
A booming laughter echoed through the golden halls of Asgard as the screen played the mighty clash.
Thor, finally watching himself a scene where he was not being humiliated, slammed his mug onto the polished surface, his chest swelling with pride. His bright blue eyes gleamed as he turned toward his father, Odin, a smug grin spreading across his face.
"Did you see that, Father? Did you see how I crushed that Iron Man with a single blow? Ha! As expected of me, the future King of Asgard!"
His voice rang through the hall, rich with arrogance, as he leaned back in his seat. He stretched out his arms, basking in the moment as if it were a song of his own glory.
Across the room, Loki let out a dramatic sigh, rubbing his temples. He was seated with his legs crossed, a goblet of wine in hand, his sharp emerald eyes rolling as he listened to his brother's boasting.
"Yes, yes, Thor. You managed to hit a mortal wrapped in metal. Truly, an achievement worthy of song." He took a lazy sip of his wine, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Shall we gather the bards and compose an epic tale of your legendary triumph over 'Man of Iron'?"
Seph, who had been standing silently at the far end of the table, merely crossed his arms, watching the scene unfold with mild amusement. His gaze flickered between the screen and the boastful God of Thunder.
"To be fair," Seph finally spoke, his voice calm yet firm, "that mortal you so effortlessly struck down has the intelligence and willpower to stand among gods. Underestimating him would be your greatest mistake."
Thor scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "Bah! Intelligence cannot match raw strength! A mortal in armor is still a mortal. His toys do not compare to the power of a god!"
A slow, cold chuckle echoed through the hall.
It was Hela.
The Goddess of Death leaned against the massive pillar, arms crossed, her dark emerald eyes gleaming with amusement. She smirked, her lips curling as she watched her younger brother flaunt his arrogance.
"Oh, little brother," she purred, her voice smooth as silk yet laced with something venomous. "You swing your hammer and believe yourself invincible. Tell me, how did that arrogance serve you if I crushed your little toy with my bare hands?"
Thor stiffened. His smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before he scoffed.
"Uhh...!" He grumbled, crossing his arms.
Seph chuckled, shaking his head. His piercing gaze met Thor's.
"Strength alone does not make a king," He said evenly. "If you believe defeating a man in armor is worth celebrating, then perhaps you have much to learn before you truly ascend to the throne."
Before Thor could retort, a deep, thunderous voice cut through the hall like a blade.
"You are not the King of Asgard yet!"
Odin's voice echoed through the golden halls, filled with unshakable authority.
Instantly, the atmosphere shifted. The mirth that once filled the air vanished like smoke in the wind.
Thor sat up straight, his grin fading as he met his father's piercing gaze.
Odin rose from his throne, his lone eye burning with silent fury. His very presence commanded obedience, and the air grew heavier with every step he took toward the table.
"Our true enemy is not some mortal wrapped in metal!"
His words were like rolling thunder, crashing through the great hall with unrelenting force.
"The Frost Giants stand nearly four meters tall!"
"They wield the power of ice and death itself! Their very presence can turn entire lands into frozen graves!"
"They have no need for armor!"
"And yet, here you stand, boasting about knocking down a mere man?"
Odin's gaze was as sharp as a blade, his disappointment palpable.
"It seems I must reconsider whether you are truly fit to wear the crown."
A deafening silence followed.
Thor clenched his jaw, the fire of battle still burning in his heart—but now, it was tainted with the sting of his father's disapproval.
Loki smirked behind his goblet, watching with satisfaction as his arrogant brother was humbled.
Hela chuckled darkly. "Well, this was entertaining."
Seph, arms still crossed, remained silent, watching Thor's reaction closely.
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