The bell above the door rang when Thor stepped inside the 24/7 gas station shop. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, and a few bugs buzzed around them.
Thor walked straight to the counter.
The cashier looked up from his phone with tired eyes. He was young, maybe late twenties, wearing a faded store cap and an expression that said midnight shifts were a personal punishment.
"Excuse me," Thor said, resting one large hand on the counter. "Do you carry beer in respectable quantities?"
The cashier blinked once, then pointed toward the back coolers. "Back wall, left side fridge. We've both domestic and imported."
Thor gave him a solemn nod. "You have my gratitude."
He walked to the refrigerators and opened one of the glass doors. Cold air rushed out and hit his face. He looked closely at the rows of items inside, concentrating as if he were planning a battle. Brand names did not matter to him. He chose products based on their weight and size.
He pulled out one crate, then another, stacking them over his right hand.
As Thor moved toward the front, the bell above the door jingled again. Two men rushed in wearing dark hoodies and cheap ski masks. One carried a short shotgun with both hands. The other had a modified shotgun angled toward the counter.
"Empty the register," the taller one shouted, voice cracking under the mask. "Move fast."
The cashier froze, his hand twitching toward the register but clearly unsure of what to do. The other thug stepped forward, his shotgun aimed squarely at the man behind the counter. He racked his shotgun for emphasis. The metallic sound echoed through the small store.
"Do not make this complicated," the tall one warned the cashier. "Just give us the money."
The cashier's hands trembled as he reached for the register.
The shorter thug noticed Thor first.
"Hey," he barked. "Stay back."
Thor stopped a few feet away, looking at both weapons with mild interest.
"I intend to purchase these," he said calmly. "And you should put those toys away before you get hurt."
The tall one shifted the shotgun toward Thor's chest. "I said stay back."
Thor glanced down at the barrel, then back at the man behind the mask.
"I have already experienced this conversation once tonight," he replied. "It did not end well for the participants."
The shorter thug stepped sideways to get a clearer angle. His eyes widened, seeing how Thor was carrying the four crates with ease. "What the fuck? Drop the beer crates and get on the floor and empty your pockets."
"What did you say?" Thor asked.
"Get on the fucking floor before I put some lead in you!" The shorter one barked.
Thor's expression darkened the moment those words hit his ears. 'Get on the floor.' The command landed like an insult carved straight into his pride, the kind of demand no son of Asgard would ever swallow without tasting blood first. Mortals with their petty weapons and trembling voices had no right to speak to him that way.
Thor placed the beer crates on the counter with exaggerated care, his eyes locked on the two men as they shifted nervously, weapons still raised. It was almost... funny how they didn't know that they were playing in a league they couldn't begin to understand.
He took a step forward.
"Did you not hear me?" the shorter thug spat. "I said get on the floor!"
The tall one, who had been quiet until now, raised his shotgun, aiming directly at Thor's chest. The shotgun roared, spitting a tight pattern of buckshot that slammed into Thor's chest. The shotgun's deafening roar echoed in the small space, but Thor barely reacted.
The short one followed half a heartbeat later, pumping another round into the God of Thunder's torso.
Fabric tore, threads flew, and the new leather jacket Tony gave him only two days earlier shredded across the front in ragged strips. Smoke curled up from the ruined leather, but Thor himself did not stagger.
In a single motion, he grabbed both of them by their collars, lifting them off the floor as easily as if they were sacks of potatoes. Their feet kicked uselessly in the air. The taller one's shotgun slipped from his hands, clattering to the ground, while the shorter thug's hands flailed desperately, reaching for something that wasn't there.
Then he hurled them forward.
The two men sailed through the air like discarded dolls. Their bodies struck the wide glass storefront at full force. The entire wall exploded outward in a glittering cascade of tempered shards that rained across the parking lot. The robbers kept going, tumbling end over end until they slammed into the metal light pole on the far side of the street. The pole rang like a struck bell, bent slightly at the impact point, and both men crumpled to the asphalt in a heap of torn hoodies and broken confidence.
Thor stood still for a moment, gazing at the jagged hole where the window used to be.
Turning back to the cashier, who hadn't moved an inch, his hands still frozen in place, Thor dug into his pocket and took out the black card Tony had given him. He held it out with an air of solemnity.
"Beer and repair costs," Thor said, his voice calm but resolute. "For the wall. You'll need a new one."
The cashier stared at the card, his eyes darting between Thor and the mess of men outside. His mouth opened, then closed, as if the world had just shifted, and he couldn't quite figure out how to breathe anymore.
Thor arched an eyebrow. "No need to thank me. Just take it. I'm sure Tony would prefer I make restitution."
The cashier still stared at the black card, his hands trembling. He wasn't sure if he should be more confused about the god-like man in front of him or the two unconscious bodies outside. As he reached for the card, a loud screeching sound broke the stillness. The front door rattled violently as something slammed into the side of the store.
Thor's instincts kicked in. He turned just as a car flew toward him with a speed and force that sent the wind rushing through the space. With a grunt, he swung his fist out, connecting with the car's front bumper. The metal crumpled like paper in his hand, and the car was sent flying across the street, skidding to a stop in the middle of the road. It lay there, smoldering, the engine sputtering as if it too had been shocked by the encounter.
Thor narrowed his eyes. Something was wrong. He turned back to the cashier, who had now dropped the card and was staring at the wreckage in horror.
"I'll be back in a moment," Thor said calmly.
He stepped outside.
The two men he had just sent flying were standing up. Their bodies seemed... different. They were glowing—fiery red, as though their skin had become a furnace. Their hands twitched with unnatural energy, crackling in the air. Their eyes were burning with a heat Thor could feel even from a distance.
"Demons?" Thor muttered to himself. "No! I can't sense any demonic energy. Are they mutants?"
The word came out low, more to himself than anyone else. He had fought enough things from other realms to recognize unnatural fire in a mortal body, but this felt different. It wasn't hellfire... but something new.
Thor cracked his knuckles and jumped, before landing a few feet from those two. Whatever they were, they were about to get an education on what happens when you mess with a son of Asgard who just wants four crates of beer.
The taller robber spoke first, voice rough and deeper now, like gravel dragged over hot iron. "You shouldn't have done that, big guy."
The shorter one laughed, a wet, ugly sound. His glowing hands flexed, and tiny wisps of steam rose from his palms. "Gonna enjoy breaking you slowly."
Thor rolled his shoulders once, feeling the ruined leather jacket shift against his skin.
"You mortals keep finding new ways to poison yourselves," he said. "Whatever you took, it will not save you tonight."
The taller one charged first, moving faster than any human should after hitting a metal pole. His fist swung in a wide arc aimed at Thor's jaw. Thor caught the wrist mid-swing, twisted, and yanked the man forward. He drove an elbow into the glowing ribcage. The impact made a dull thump, followed by a hiss like water on hot metal. The robber staggered but did not go down.
The shorter one came in low from the side, aiming a burning palm strike at Thor's kidney. Thor pivoted, grabbed the attacking arm, and flipped the man over his shoulder. The robber hit the asphalt hard enough to crack it, but he rolled and sprang back up almost instantly. Red light flared brighter across his body.
Thor took a single step back and planted his boots. He cracked his neck from side to side.
"Come then," he said. "Show me what your little potion can do."
The two glowing men came at Thor again, moving like they felt no pain. Thor met them head-on. He grabbed the taller one by the wrist and shoulder, twisted hard, and pulled. The arm came free with a wet rip and a spray of hot red liquid that sizzled on the asphalt. The shorter one lunged right after. Thor caught him mid-air, gripped both legs, slammed him down on the road, and yanked hard enough to rip them from his body. He threw the legs on the ground and watched them melt into a gooey puddle.
Red light flared brighter across the robbers' stumps. Flesh bubbled and stretched. New arms pushed out of the shoulders in seconds. Legs regrew from the torn sockets, bones snapping back into place with wet cracks. The heat rolling off them climbed higher. The air around their bodies shimmered like a desert road at noon. Steam poured from their skin in thick clouds.
The taller one opened his mouth wide. A stream of orange fire shot out toward Thor's face. The shorter one followed right after, spitting another jet that splashed across Thor's chest. The flames only burned his clothes and didn't even scratch him. The heat felt like a strong drink after too many nights of weak ale. It burned away the last fog of the evening and left his mind sharp.
Thor stood taller. "Enough games," he said as he dashed forward, grabbed their faces and slammed them on the ground again.
He watched the way their bodies shook now, the red glow pulsing unevenly. They looked ready to burst. Power like that in the hands of criminals didn't sit well with Thor. He made his choice fast. He would capture them alive if he could, and drop them at Tony's lab for answers.
Before he could grab them, both robbers swelled. Their chests puffed out, arms thickened, skin stretched tight over the glowing veins. The red light turned white-hot at the centers of their bodies. Energy crackled in the air between them, unstable and loud, like a wire about to snap.
Thor moved. His legs blurred with speed. He crossed the parking lot in three strides and burst back through the broken storefront. The cashier still stood behind the counter, eyes wide, black card forgotten in his hand.
Thor scooped him up with one arm like he weighed nothing. With the other hand, he snatched the top crate of beer off the counter. "Hold on," he said.
He ran.
The night air whipped past them. Thor cleared the lot, jumped the curb, and kept going down the empty street. Behind him, the gas station lit up white for half a second. Then the explosion hit.
A deep boom rolled through the ground. Flames shot straight up, followed by a second blast. The storefront vanished in orange light. Metal twisted, concrete cracked, and the whole building folded inward. A wide crater opened where the pumps used to be. Black smoke climbed into the sky, thick enough to block the streetlights.
Thor did not stop until he reached the far side of the next block. He set the cashier down gently on the sidewalk. The man wobbled but stayed on his feet.
The cashier stared back toward the crater. His voice came out small. "My store..."
Thor looked at the rising smoke. "Your life is worth more than bricks and beer. I will help you rebuild."
The cashier looked at the beer crate in Thor's hand and then at his face.
"This is mine," Thor said.
---
...[POWERSTONES AND REVIEWS]...
If you want to read early advance chapters, you can join>: www.patr eon.com/XcaliburXc
[I have > 14 advance chapters] [No double billing]