As Odin watched Donald roar like a madman, a flicker of pity crossed his face, only to vanish an instant later.
Donald kept venting his rage, roaring as he beat passersby, kicked apart cars parked along the road, and even began slapping himself.
At last, Donald stopped, panting heavily.
He had beaten his own face black and blue, and his clothes were torn to shreds, stained with blood.
That Doctor Donald whom Brad had once met, who seemed so cautious about everything and so deeply grateful for every bit of kindness, might never have existed at all.
He looked at All-Father Odin with venomous hatred, then suddenly let out a bitter, anguished laugh.
"Even I'm fake."
Donald muttered to himself.
"Great All-Father Odin, ruler of Asgard, who am I?"
"I'm nothing but an insignificant Dream Body of your beloved eldest son, Thor."
"To ensure your son could grow up smoothly, to erase the bloodlust and frustration he accumulated fighting across the Nine Realms, whenever excessive killing began to destabilize his mind..."
"You put him to sleep-and then he dreamed."
"In his dreams, he was Donald Blake, an ordinary man living on Earth, humble and kind to others."
"Donald Blake! A man determined to become a doctor and help others, always optimistic despite being born into hardship."
"No matter what suffering life threw at him, he always faced it with a smile."
"See? Even my personality is fake. You designed it all, just so your son Thor could appreciate the beauty of human life."
"Whenever he woke up, all the bloodlust and frustration from his battles would be completely washed away."
"And then?"
Donald seemed to lose himself in happy memories, only for pain to twist his expression again.
"Then Thor didn't need me anymore."
"As he grew older, the Rune