The three Asgardian warriors, including Sif, stood around the SHIELD base. Before them stretched a row of near-identical buildings, boxy and featureless, each painted in the same dull gray. To mortal eyes, it was an ordinary cluster of government offices, but to them it was an irritating maze.
Fandral frowned, tilting his head this way and that. "Well, this is the place where Midgard's warriors of order hide their treasures… in filing cabinets?"
Volstagg grumbled, shifting the weight of his axe. "How are we supposed to know which one have Thor? They all look the same!"
Hogun's reply was dry. "Perhaps knock on each door and ask politely."
Sif's eyes narrowed, her patience thin. "Quiet. Let me think of a better way."
As if summoned by her warning, a voice rang sharply. "You there! Hold it!"
A pair of SHIELD agents stepped from the shadows, weapons held low but steady. More followed, boots pounding against gravel, and in moments the Asgardians were surrounded.
"Identify yourselves," one agent demanded, flashlight cutting across their strange armor and weapons.
Volstagg opened his mouth, only to be cut off by Sif's curt tone. "We seek Thor."
The words struck the air like a spark. The lead agent faltered, gripping his rifle tightly. A glance exchanged among the men tightened the tension.
"Are you talking about a muscular guy with blond hair who calls himself Thor?" the agent asked carefully.
Fandral's smirk returned. "That's him. My brother-in-arms. If he is within these walls, then let him know we are here."
The lead agent blinked, shifting uncomfortably. He raised a hand. "Let me confirm with my superiors ."
The Asgardians exchanged tense glances. Fandral's grin faded into concern; Volstagg shifted the weight of his axe; Hogun's eyes never left the agent.
After a few moments on the radio, the agent lowered it, expression tight.
"Confirmed," he said finally, voice firm. "Thor is no longer here. He left just a few minutes ago… with his companion."
Sif's jaw tightened. She did not understand the meaning of "companion," yet a strange, uneasy feeling tugged at her—as if something precious had been taken.
Fandral, oblivious to Sif's expression, shouted, "Then take us to this companion! We must bring Thor back to Asgard as quickly as possible!"
The agent hesitated. "I… I cannot leave the base," he admitted, voice tight. "But I can get the address for you."
Volstagg's brows furrowed. "You better take us to the right place. How are we to know which dwelling he occupies?"
Hogun's tone was flat, dry as ever. "Patience, Volstagg. Sir, I trust you understand the gravity of this matter. If Thor is harmed, it may ignite war between Midgard and Asgard."
Sif's eyes narrowed, still bristling with unease. "You better take us to Thor before something bad happens."
The agent made a brief call to Black Widow, who oversaw the base, and she asked them to guide the Asgardians to Thor. Turning back, he finally spoke. "Alright. I can take you to her residence—Jane Foster. Follow carefully."
Fandral's grin returned, sharp and eager. "At last! Let us waste no more time, companions."
The agent led them to a black SUV. Sif studied the human vehicle, clearly unimpressed by such mundane transport. Fandral, ever curious, tested the handle and glanced inside. Volstagg muttered under his breath, hefting his axe while peering at the cramped interior.
"Get in," the agent instructed. The Asgardians obeyed, squeezing into the seats as best they could. Sif's posture remained rigid, hands resting lightly on her knees. Volstagg muttered about discomfort. Hogun remained stoic, eyes fixed on the road ahead.
The SUV rolled onto the winding desert road, tires whispering against gravel and sand. The agent drove cautiously, aware of the unusual passengers, occasionally checking the rearview mirror.
"How far is this place?" Sif asked, voice sharp.
"About fifteen minutes from here," the agent replied carefully. "You're not… used to human vehicles, are you?"
"Human chariots are far too slow for warriors such as we," Fandral said, faint laughter in his tone.
"Even the horses in Asgard are faster than your chariot," Volstagg muttered, shifting restlessly.
The desert stretched endlessly as the SUV continued, bouncing lightly over ridges and dips. Callahan spoke occasionally, guiding them. Fandral's grin returned intermittently, edged with anticipation. Volstagg continued his murmurs, Hogun remained unmoved, and Sif's eyes never left the horizon.
Finally, the vehicle slowed, approaching a modest two-story home. Warm light spilled faintly through curtained windows.
"Here," the agent said, firm but cautious. "Jane Foster's residence."
Fandral's grin sharpened. "At last! Let us waste no time. We must find Thor!"
Volstagg peered outside, muttering, "Next time, we should bring our own chariots… or horses. This one is far too slow and cannot even fly."
Hogun's voice cut through sharply. "Then stop complaining. We have no time to squander."
Sif exhaled slowly, bracing herself. The unease lingered in her chest. Though she did not understand the meaning of "companion," her instincts warned her that Thor's absence was significant.
The Asgardians stepped out in unison and follow behind the agent, each movement carrying a mixture of urgency, and quiet frustration. The desert night hummed quietly around them, the glow of the modest home standing out against the dark horizon.
Inside the house faint sound of movement confirmed everyone was still awake of course it would be more strange if they had fallen sleep this quickly as they should have just arrived from the shield base.
The agent led the way to the door, gesturing firmly. "Wait here," he muttered, though the warriors ignored the caution, their focus sharp upon the dwelling.
Fandral adjusted his stance with eagerness, Volstagg grumbled about the cramped journey, and Sif's unease coiled tighter in her chest.
At last, the doorbell chimed. A shuffle followed from within, and the door cracked open to reveal a young woman with tousled hair, her expression unimpressed.
"
"Which idiot shows up at this hour?" Darcy mumbled, rubbing her eyes. She pulled the door open wider—and froze. Her sleepy annoyance vanished the instant she saw the figures before her: four strangers clad in gleaming armor, armed with sword, axe, and shield, standing tall behind the SHIELD agent.
Her mouth opened, then closed again. Finally she crossed her arms, muttering, "if not for the earlier experience I would have thought Comic-Con broke into my front yard."
"They are with Thor," the agent said quickly, keeping his voice firm but low. "Let us in."
Darcy blinked at the mention of the name. Her eyes narrowed, then she gave a theatrical sigh and stepped back. "Figures. Sure, come in. Thor's friends, just don't not break the furniture."
The warriors entered cautiously, armor clinking under the harsh yellow light of the lamp. Sif's eyes scanned the humble furniture, the mortal trinkets, all with thinly veiled disdain. Fandral moved with easy swagger, though even he held his tongue. Volstagg's broad frame barely fit through the doorway, his axe knocking against the frame. Hogun's gaze was steady, piercing the shadows ahead.
And there—upon the couch—they found him.
Thor sat slumped, shoulders heavy, his hands clasped tightly together. Jane Foster sat close beside him, her hand resting on his arm in quiet support. His golden hair fell untamed around his face, which bore none of its usual fire.
Fandral stepped forward, his usual grin gone, replaced by urgency. "Thor, we have come to bring you back to Asgard as this place is no longer safe for you."
Thor raised his head slowly, his face shadowed with grief. His voice cracked as he spoke. " while I I am happy to see you but I cannot with you. My folly has cost Asgard dearly. My father is dead… and it is by my hand."
A stunned silence fell over the room.
"Dead?" Fandral repeated sharply. "By the Norns, Thor, what madness do you speak? Odin lives!"
Thor's jaw tightened, his hand curling into a fist. "Loki told me the truth. He said Odin has fallen into death because of me."
"Death?" Volstagg barked, shaking his head furiously. "Utter nonsense! The All-Father rests in the Odinsleep, like he always does is getting old."
Thor's breath caught, the certainty in his eyes faltering.
Hogun's tone was cold steel. "you have been deceived, once again."
Thor's chest rose and fell in heavy breaths. His eyes darted among them—between Jane's steady presence at his side and the fierce loyalty burning in his companions' faces. The grief that had weighed him down cracked, doubt seeping in.
At last, his voice came as a whisper, heavy with disbelief. "Then… Loki lied to me?" His eyes clouded with doubt, for though he could accept his brother's deceit in battle, he could not fathom why Loki would weave falsehoods about their father's fate.
The silence that followed was heavier than steel. His companions said nothing, but their certainty, their faith in him and in Odin, was answer enough.
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