Asgard, Asgardian Palace.
"You've gotten a lot older." Loki looked at Thor's scruffy beard and even his beer belly, then patted his stomach. A ripple of fat jiggled beneath his clothes.
"No, tell me! This isn't the future me!" The muscular Thor, with defined abs, covered his eyes, unable to bear looking at his future self.
"Strictly speaking, he is you from another universe, not this universe's you. You may not necessarily become like him in the future." Queen Frigga patted her son's shoulder soothingly. Yet most of her attention rested on the weathered Thor, who had one eye and looked as though he had been through countless hardships. Her gaze was filled with affection.
"So in your universe, we all died, and Asgard was destroyed as well?" Odin sat upon the throne, his voice heavy. This was quite a blow to him.
He had always wanted to prevent Ragnarok from arriving, yet his counterpart in another universe had still failed to stop it.
"It was my fault." Weathered Thor looked guiltily at his father. These living family members before him stirred long-lost familial warmth and emotion within his heart. Even Loki's face, full of mockery, looked much more lovable to him now.
"I never thought you would die for me." Young Thor hugged his brother, only to be pushed away by Loki in disgust.
"That wasn't me!" Loki looked smug. "I would only throw you down there to hold off the enemy while I looked for a chance to escape."
"You did nothing wrong. You did very well." Odin looked gently at Weathered Thor. He could sense that this son from another universe had experienced much, grown much, and become much more slippery. He sighed for him, but also felt a measure of relief.
"So the Dark Elves haven't