As he muttered to himself, Josen suddenly noticed something was off.
"Right! Since I'm here now, why would we need to wait another five years?"
New York's Thanos-beating squad, assemble!
F-kid spread his hands: See? That's exactly what I meant.
Josen: Get lost, you can't even set a watch right!
F-kid: ...Middle finger!
African Continent, Wakanda.
"OHHHHH..."
"OMG..."
"NoNoNo..."
This high-tech nation disguised as a third-world country was now filled with cries of grief.
The heroes had just lost their companions and loved ones, and Wakanda had lost its king.
The young Thor looked ruefully at Stormbreaker on the ground, the Asgardian god-king-tier weapon he had sought out the dwarf king of Nidavellir to forge after losing Mjolnir-
Stormbreaker.
At this point in time, Thor seemed to have lived through all the major events of the Norse pantheon overnight: his father's passing, his own sister gouging out his eye, his homeland exploding, his entire people going into exile, his dear little sister (gay brother) dying horribly... and so on.
These tragic experiences combined into a dark stretch of divine life that was unbearable to look back on.
In short-
Ragnarok.
When Thor picked up his weapon again, this Asgardian, a mere 1,500 years old, had shed his former immaturity. He was no longer the big boy who could only complain and cry, but a proper man... no!
A male god!
Yet the seasoned cosmic Emperor Thanos had still dealt the young Asgardian god-king a crushing defeat.
An unusual purple liquid stained the axe blade. It was an uncommon kind of blood.
It belonged exclusively to that purple-skinned member of the Eternity Gods whose genetic mutation had left his chin looking like the heel of a Yeezy, the Avengers' greatest current nemesis, Purple Sweet Potato...
No, Thanos.
"No, no, no,