Fun-loving people never admit defeat

What did "not dead" mean?

The thought spun through Thor's mind, echoing for less than a second. Then the Mage sat up from the tactical table right in front of him. The movement was so swift, so forceful, that it was startling—the real-life version of a dying man suddenly sitting bolt upright from his sickbed.

Thor almost lost his footing.

Don't misunderstand. He was not so easily frightened by a scene like that.

The reason he seemed slightly thrown was the terrifying pressure radiating from He Shenyan at that moment.

That feeling made him almost want to summon Thunderbolt. It was difficult to describe. To him, it was almost like facing a cosmic storm of Chaos in the flesh—death was right at hand. Every hair on his arms stood on end, divine power surged inside him, and he very nearly changed straight into his battle armor.

"...He?"

Thor called his name uncertainly. This scene was far too bizarre. More importantly, Thor did not remember the Mage possessing such heart-stopping power. When he was not acting, he looked perfectly ordinary; aside from being handsome, there was basically nothing special about him.

In response to his call, He Shenyan simply raised his right hand, signaling for Thor not to speak yet. He touched his tightly shut eyes with his left hand, then sighed.

"That's right, it's me, Thor. Long time no see, brother. I hope I didn't scare you and your friend. This lady is Gamora, isn't she? I have some impression of you."

His tone was gentle and his attitude friendly, yet Gamora could not help feeling a surge of fear. This absurd illusion made her instinctively fold her arms and start rubbing them. Then she realized that the Mage was speaking to them with his eyes closed.

Naturally, Thor noticed