Asgard's Four Warriors

"We found you!" Volstagg said excitedly, banging on the door.

Thor strode toward the door with a cheer.

"Thor!" Volstagg rushed in first and pulled Thor into a bear hug, his massive arms squeezing Thor's bones until they creaked. "You're alive! I told you, you wouldn't die that easily!"

Thor could barely breathe from the squeeze, but the first genuine smile in three days bloomed across his face. He patted Volstagg hard on the back, his voice hoarse. "Easy, Volstagg. I don't have my powers now. I can't take a hug like that."

Volstagg hurriedly let go and took a step back, looking Thor over from head to toe with pain in his eyes. "You've gotten thinner. Is Midgard's food that bad? I told you, their pigs aren't fat enough."

Fandral stepped forward. Instead of embracing him, he extended a hand and gripped Thor's forearm—the Asgardian greeting. His usual dashing smile remained, though his eyes were slightly red. "Your Highness, those clothes... I truly cannot help saying this. They are hideous."

Thor laughed. "Jane bought them."

Fandral glanced at the bewildered Jane beside them and gave her a polite nod, then lowered his voice as he said to Thor, "Her taste is excellent. I mean the person, not the clothes."

Hogan came over last. He said nothing, merely reached out and gave Thor's forearm a firm squeeze before nodding. Thor nodded back.

Sif stood at the very back, waiting until all three men had greeted him before stepping forward. She did not hug him or shake his hand. She simply stood before Thor and looked at him.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"I'm fine," Thor said.

Sif stared at him for two seconds, then the corner of her lips curled slightly upward. "You don't look 'fine.' But you're alive. That's enough."

Jane finally could not hold it in any longer. "Um... can someone explain this?"

Thor turned toward Jane and Selvig, the smile still on his face. "They're my friends. Warriors of Asgard. This is Sif, and these are Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogan."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the faces of the four warriors, and his smile deepened.

"They are the people I trust most."

Jane opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but ultimately just nodded. Selvig stood there holding his coffee cup in silence, already too tired to care about what was happening.

Volstagg looked around the workshop. Seeing the equipment and books scattered across the tables, he frowned. "Thor, you live here? This place is worse than an Asgardian stable."

"This is what conditions are like on Midgard," Thor said. "It's fine. At least there's no war."

Fandral picked up an instrument from the table and turned it over in his hands. "What is this? A Midgardian weapon?"

"That's a coffee maker," Thor said. "It makes drinks."

Fandral put down the coffee maker, his expression strange. "...You Midgardians need machines even to make drinks?"

Sif smiled and shook her head. "Thor, we came to take you home."

"You shouldn't have come. You know I can't go back!" Thor's smile vanished. "My father died because of me. I have to remain in exile."

The Four Warriors exchanged baffled looks. At last, Sif voiced the question. "Thor, your father is still alive."

Thor's expression turned grave. Sif understood, stepped closer, and lowered her voice.

"King Odin is not dead. But he has fallen into Odin's Sleep."

"Loki seized the throne," Sif continued. "He claimed Odin was dead and crowned himself king. The rest of us slipped out in secret, with Heimdall's help. We came to bring you back and reclaim the throne."

The air in the workshop froze.

Thor's expression shifted from joy to shock, then from shock into something complicated and indescribable. His lips moved, and his voice came out hoarse.

"Loki told me... Father was dead. He told me that the condition of the truce was my permanent exile. He said I could never return to Asgard."

Sif frowned. "He lied to you."

Thor fell silent. He remembered Loki's red-rimmed eyes in the S.H.I.E.L.D. interrogation room as he spoke: their father was dead, their mother had locked herself in her chambers, and Heimdall had been imprisoned. Every detail had seemed so real. Every word had struck the place that hurt most.

It had all been lies.

"Thor," Volstagg said, his voice turning grim, "come back with us. We'll fight our way into the palace together—"

"No." Thor shook his head, his voice low. "I can't go back. I have no hammer, no powers. Going back would just be suicide."

"We can—"

"Enough." Thor cut him off, raising his head as his gaze swept across the Four Warriors' faces. "I can't let you die for me."

Sif was about to say something else when Darcy interrupted her while looking out the window. "Do you have another companion who hasn't arrived yet?"

Everyone turned to look. In the distance, the sky hung low, dark clouds twisting into a vortex like a dragon drawing water. As the mist dispersed, a towering figure appeared.

It stood roughly three meters tall, its entire body made of dark silver metal with golden patterns at its joints. Its head was a smooth, curved mask without features, marked only by horizontal slits.

Volstagg's pupils contracted. "The Destroyer..."

Fandral's smile vanished completely. "Why did he send that thing?"

"Loki." Sif's voice turned cold. "He discovered that we came to Midgard. He knows we came looking for Thor, and he knows his lies are about to be exposed. So—"

"So he wants to silence us," Hogan finally said, his voice low.

Thor looked at the massive metal figure outside, his expression complicated, filled with anger and exhaustion.

"He came to kill me," Thor said. "I'm only a mortal now."

Sif drew her sword. A cold gleam flashed across its blade beneath the lights. "Thor, get the Midgardians out of here. Leave this to us."

Volstagg wielded an axe in each hand and grinned. "That thing takes physical attacks, not magic. Good thing we're not mages."

Fandral drew his longsword and spun it in his hand. "Careful, Volstagg. Don't tear down too many Midgardian houses."

Hogan silently tightened his grip on his mace and stepped to the front.

Thor looked at them, his lips moving. He wanted to say "thank you," wanted to say "be careful," wanted to say "don't die for me." But in the end, he only said one thing. "Come back alive."

He turned, grabbed Jane's arm, and pulled Darcy along with his other hand. "Go."

The four of them turned and headed toward the town to evacuate the people.