"This is what I've always worn... this kind of style..."
He could not help picturing himself in armor, wielding Mjolnir.
Majestic and unruly.
Even Thor himself felt that explanation was fucking weak.
Frigga stepped closer, while the fat Thor instinctively backed away.
He did not know how to face his dearest mother looking like this.
Her son had always been the handsome, towering, mighty Thor...
Not a slovenly drunkard who had let himself go and become fat.
Until Frigga gently reached out and touched Thor's cheek.
That warmth made his body tense for a moment.
Damn it, looks like there's no getting out of this time...
"What happened to your eye...?"
Frigga studied Thor's face, her eyes filled with heartache.
My son, what happened to you? How did you become like this?
That must have been an especially grueling journey...
You must have suffered so much...
She quickly focused on the eye that Hela had once stabbed out and Su Ming had restored.
Clearly, even though Su Ming's extraordinary methods had left no flaw that anyone—not even Thor himself—could detect...
Before a mother's love, Frigga saw only a battered and scarred little boy.
That was her son.
"What...?"
Thor subconsciously touched the eye he had once lost.
In an instant, he realized something, and an overwhelming surge of emotion rose within him.
His eyes grew damp, but he immediately turned his head so his mother would not notice.
Still trying to act tough, he said:
"Oh, my eye... Do you remember when my face was cut by a sword during the Battle of Harokin?"
But his voice grew quieter and weaker.
Frigga smiled softly and touched Thor's once broad, now fattened shoulder.
She shook her head slightly.
"You're not the Thor I know, are you..."
Oh God...
Thor was so