With the Destroyer finally out of commission, the tension in the air dissolved like mist. Everyone exhaled—relief sweeping through the battered group.
The first thing they did was pry the Warriors Three out from the car wrecks and cracked walls they were lodged in. After a few slaps and some divine-grade groaning, the three Asgardians blinked awake, dazed but alive.
Thor's expression was resolute. "I have to return to Asgard," he declared. "I must face Loki myself. I can't let him continue down this path."
"Finally!" Hogun shouted, suddenly brimming with energy despite the concussion.
The other two lit up as well—if Thor returned, Loki's short-lived reign would crumble instantly.
Then Thor turned toward Darren, eyes filled with determination and just a touch of pleading. "Darren, could your machine carry Mjolnir back to Asgard for me? I can't lift it as I am now. Once it's done, Heimdall will return you safely to Midgard."
A new notification chimed in Darren's mind.
[NPC: Thor Odinson has assigned you a new quest]
[Quest: Carry the Hammer]
[Objective: Help Thor return Mjolnir to Asgard]
[Reward: 500 XP, +30 Thor Affinity, Item ×1]
"Sure," Darren replied casually. "I've always wanted to see Asgard for myself."
Thor nodded gratefully. "Oh, and if you can—help me bring the Destroyer's remains back too—"
He turned mid-sentence… and froze.
The Destroyer was gone.
"What? Where's the Destroyer!?" Thor shouted.
Darren shrugged innocently. "No idea. Probably stolen. If I had to guess, Loki's fingerprints are all over it."
Moments later, they were on the move again, packed into Jane's RV as it bounced its way toward the outskirts of town. When they reached a wide open field, Thor stepped out and looked to the sky.
"Heimdall!" he roared. "Open the Bifrost!"
He called again and again.
Then the clouds rippled. A vibrant pillar of prismatic light split the heavens and struck the earth, swirling with divine energy.
"I'll be back," Thor said, turning to Jane with that same dumb grin gods wear before doing something heroic and stupid.
He stepped into the light with his companions—and Darren followed, BT lumbering behind.
The moment Darren entered the beam, the world dissolved into color. He felt his body whisked through a corridor of pure energy, faster than thought, wrapped in a force that defied every law of physics.
Then—light.
He stood inside a golden hall so magnificent it almost hurt to look at. Beyond its open arches shimmered the endless expanse of space, jeweled with stars.
[Quest "Carry the Hammer" complete!]
[Reward: +500 XP, +30 Thor Affinity, Item: ×5 Health Potions]
[Asgard Map Unlocked]
A new map unfurled in Darren's interface—an intricate golden city suspended in the cosmos, most of it still hidden beneath fogged darkness.
At the hall's center lay a golden-armored man—Heimdall, guardian of the Bifrost—slumped and breathing weakly.
"Heimdall!" Thor rushed forward, lifting him up.
The gatekeeper's voice was faint, his eyes dim. "Loki… opened the Bifrost without the king's leave. He allowed Frost Giants into Asgard… They're heading for Odin's chambers…"
"What!?"
Thor's face darkened. He handed Heimdall to the others and bolted toward the palace—only to halt when a familiar voice echoed through the grand entryway.
"Well," came Loki's smooth, mocking tone, "you're too late."
He dismounted from a sleek white steed, his golden armor gleaming under the Asgardian light. "I've already executed Laufey and his assassins. They tried to kill Father."
Darren blinked, then raised a thumb in approval. "Wow. Patricide and genocide in one afternoon. That's commitment."
"Shut your mouth! He was never my father!" Loki snapped, fury flashing in his eyes.
He turned toward the bridge, voice rising with fevered conviction. "When I use the Bifrost to obliterate Jotunheim, Father will finally see that I am the true heir to Asgard's throne!"
The Bifrost, after all, was more than a bridge—it could be weaponized, its energy strong enough to burn entire worlds into ash.
Cold admiration stirred in Darren's chest. "Damn," he muttered. "He's really going for the 100% completion route."
Thor stepped forward, his voice strained. "No, Loki. You can't do this."
Loki's laugh was sharp, bitter. "Since when do you care about the Frost Giants, brother? Wasn't this the outcome you always wanted?"
Thor shook his head. "I was wrong. War brings nothing but ruin. Asgard doesn't need blood—it needs peace."
"Peace?" Loki spat. "Peace turned you weak! And what changed you, brother? Don't tell me—it was that Midgardian woman, wasn't it?"
The anger in his tone was raw, tinged with something else—hurt.
For centuries, Thor had never listened to him. But a few days on Earth—a few sweet words from a mortal girl—and suddenly his mighty brother saw the world differently.
Loki's grip on Gungnir tightened. "Move."
Thor stood firm, his voice soft but unwavering. "Loki, I don't know why you hate me so much… or why you wish to kill me. But no matter what you've done, you'll always be my brother."
For a brief moment, something flickered in Loki's gaze.
Despite everything—the schemes, the lies, the blades between ribs—some piece of him still cared for Thor. The bond wasn't gone, not completely.
Then Thor, oblivious as ever, kept talking.
"Do you remember," he said fondly, "when you used to cry after I beat you? You'd run to Mother and sob all night. Those were such happy times."
Loki's expression froze.
And then twisted.
"…To hell with brotherhood."
ZAP!
The flash of blue light hit Thor square in the chest, blasting him off his feet. He crashed to the floor with a grunt, unmoving.
"Thor!" the Warriors Three shouted, charging forward.
Loki sneered and fired three rapid shots.
They didn't even reach him before they were thrown back, slamming into the walls in a pile of armor and moans.
Darren sighed. "Every damn time. I swear, these guys are just walking punchlines at this point."
Only Sif remained standing.
She dodged one blast, then another, before lunging forward, sword gleaming. The clash of steel rang out as her blade met Gungnir's shaft.
But she wasn't done. She feinted right, then swung her leg up in a vicious arc aimed right between Loki's legs—so sharp Darren swore he could hear the air tear.
Loki's eyes went wide. He stumbled backward, clutching his dignity for dear life.
Another inch, and the line of succession would've ended permanently.
Darren winced and turned to Heimdall. "So, uh… bad blood between them?"
Heimdall's voice was weak but steady. "Three hundred years ago… Loki cut off Sif's hair as a prank."
Darren blinked, then nodded slowly. "Yeah. That explains everything."
Never—ever—piss off a woman. Especially not one who can swing a sword hard enough to end your dynasty.
Three hundred years, and she was still holding that grudge.