CLANG! CLANG! CLANG—!
BT kept swinging Mjolnir down with mechanical precision, each strike a thunderous drumbeat of metal against metal. But while the mech could lift the hammer, it couldn't wield its divine power. All it could do was use it like a glorified mallet and keep pounding the Destroyer into the ground.
Good thing Mjolnir was tough enough to take it—any lesser weapon would've been scrap metal by now.
Still, despite BT's relentless onslaught, the Destroyer's armor remained immaculate. Not even a dent.
Thor, who had long given up screaming for his hammer's safety, shouted instead, "You can't damage it that way! The Destroyer was forged from enchanted metal, strengthened by my father's magic! Its defense is absolute, its power near infinite—you can't break through with brute force!"
Ah, so it was both the ultimate spear and the ultimate shield. Great.
Darren tilted his head thoughtfully. The age-old question surfaced in his mind: what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?
He smirked. "Guess we'll find out."
Then, cutting the connection to BT's hammer strikes, Darren's voice turned cold. "Loki," he said clearly, knowing the sound would carry through the Destroyer's connection, "I heard you were Odin's adopted son."
In Asgard's throne room, Loki froze. The once-smug grin on his face stiffened into stone.
That was the secret he hated most—the one truth he wanted buried deeper than Hel itself.
How does that mortal know?
But Darren wasn't done. His tone was casual, almost conversational. "I also heard you're not just adopted—you're actually the son of Laufey, king of the Frost Giants. Sounds like your talents are wasted here, my friend. Why not head back to Jotunheim, overthrow the old man, and take your rightful throne? Let Thor keep Asgard. Win-win, right?"
"BASTARD!!"
The words ripped from Loki like a snarl.
He couldn't help it. Darren's taunt had hit him dead center, tearing at the raw wound he'd kept buried since learning his true lineage.
For someone who'd spent centuries believing the Frost Giants were inferior, monsters to be pitied or slain—discovering he was one of them had shattered him.
It was like a man who'd spent his whole life preaching purity suddenly realizing he was never pure at all. And now this smug mortal had dared to say it out loud.
Rage consumed him. He slammed Gungnir against the floor of the throne room. "Crush that filthy human!"
The Destroyer roared to life.
Its helm snapped open, the light in its core blazing brighter and hotter than ever before. The air vibrated with its rising energy.
"Warning!" BT's system blared. "Extreme energy spike detected! Power levels increasing exponentially!"
BOOM!
A blinding torrent of destructive energy erupted from the Destroyer's core, spearing across the battlefield straight toward Darren.
"BT!" Darren barked.
Without hesitation, the mech surged forward, massive frame positioning itself in front of its pilot. BT raised Mjolnir in both hands, bracing for impact.
The beam struck like the wrath of a god—pure, molten destruction—but it stopped dead against Mjolnir's head.
"Trust me," BT's calm, synthetic voice intoned.
A shimmering energy shield enveloped its frame as all six of its thrusters ignited, blue-white flames roaring to life. The mech pushed forward, driving against the tide of energy.
Behind it, Darren grinned, utterly fearless. "What's the matter, little brother? Getting nervous?"
Loki's teeth ground audibly. His knuckles whitened around Gungnir. He poured more magic into the Destroyer.
The armor's energy spiked again, the ground beneath it fracturing and collapsing beneath the pressure of its own power.
"Full-power propulsion!" Darren commanded.
The roar of BT's engines split the air. The mech forced its way through the oncoming energy beam, step by step, until it was face-to-face with the Destroyer.
Loki's eyes widened. No!
But it was too late.
BT heaved Mjolnir upward, then drove it straight down into the Destroyer's open helm.
The hammer sank deep.
In that instant, the Destroyer's internal energy—trapped, compressed, desperate for release—had nowhere left to go. The magic that powered it turned inward.
For one breathless second, everything went silent.
Then the world exploded.
KRA-KA-BOOM!!
The shockwave was massive. Fire and air and light slammed outward, hurling everyone backward like rag dolls.
Thor, Jane, Sif—all of them went tumbling across the cracked pavement.
When they finally looked up, they saw it: the Destroyer, lying in a smoking crater, its silver armor blackened and broken, motionless.
[Boss defeated: Destroyer]
[Calculating damage-based rewards...]
[Rewards acquired: 20,000 EXP, 10 Attribute Points, Skill: "Illuminate," Weapon: Golden Desert Eagle, Items: "One-Day Annihilator," "Smiling Half-Step Doom," "Felix Felicis."]
[Skill: Illuminate — releases divine light to dispel darkness; the mightiest spell of Middle-earth's first mage.]
[Weapon: Golden Desert Eagle — twin to its pair, forged in gold.]
[Item: One-Day Annihilator — colorless, tasteless, kills silently and completely.]
[Item: Smiling Half-Step Doom — once consumed, taking even half a step forward or smiling causes total self-detonation.]
[Item: Felix Felicis— a magical brew that ensures success in all acts within one's ability.]
[Condition achieved: Energy Value unlocked.]
[Player may now allocate Spirit Points to increase Energy Capacity.]
As the system messages faded, Darren felt a strange surge flood through him—a new current of power pulsing beneath his skin.
Energy. Mana.
Up until now, all his abilities had been cost-free—purely physical, no resource drain. But now, he had a new one, a spell that actually used energy.
Illuminate.
Darren grinned. "So what, I'm a mage now?"
The thought delighted him. Sure, he only had one spell, but still—it counted.
And if you knew how to min-max, one light spell was all a mage really needed.
[Congratulations, Player—Level Up!]
After distributing his points—six to Strength, the remaining nine across his other attributes—Darren admired his stat sheet. His Strength was absurdly high now.
"Perfect," he murmured with satisfaction. "A battle mage."
...
Thor approached the fallen Destroyer, eyes still wide. "That machine of yours… it actually defeated it."
It was true. Even if this version of the Destroyer had been weakened—controlled by Loki's magic rather than Odin's—the fact remained: BT had done what few could.
Darren couldn't help but feel a flicker of pride.
But before he could respond, BT raised Mjolnir high, its synthetic voice booming in mock authority:
"Foolish mortal! How dare you speak to the God of Thunder without kneeling!"
Thor blinked. "..."
He'd just been scolded… by a robot.
And for the first time in his life, the mighty Thor Odinson was truly speechless.