Beside the roaring forge of Nidavellir, the last layer of molten metal finally cooled. The wooden arm Groot had extended was securely embedded between the two halves of the axe head, cementing the menacing silhouette of Stormbreaker in the fiery glow.
Eitri, the Dwarf King, wiped the heavy sweat from his face, his voice thick with exhaustion. "The weapon is finished. But the Bifrost is destroyed. We can't even get back to Earth."
Rocket Raccoon slammed his wrench onto the floor, cursing a blue streak. "If I knew it was gonna be this much of a pain in the ass, I would've just boosted a spaceship! Now we're stuck out here waiting to die."
When Thor grabbed the axe, the veins on the back of his hand instantly bulged.
He could feel it—it wasn't just the crackle of lightning; there was a searing heat contained within it that could split a man's bones. This was the weapon forged to kill Thanos. It was Asgard's final gamble.
"Thank you, Groot," Thor said softly.
Groot merely replied, "I am Groot."
Rocket rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright, cut the sappy crap. If any of you geniuses have a way to hurl us back to Earth, spit it out now. Every second we waste, another person dies in New York."
Hearing this, Eitri's eyes darkened. "It's a complete warzone over there right now. Hela and that outsider woman are nothing to scoff at. Even if you guys show up, you might not be enough to turn the tide."
Thor gripped Stormbreaker until his knuckles turned white, his voice raspy. "I know."
Whitebeard, who had been standing off to the side, suddenly threw his head back and let out a booming laugh. "Gurararara! Stop your pathetic whining! Look at the lot of you."
Rocket blinked, staring up at him. "Old man, don't tell me you're gonna try and whip up a magic portal like those wizards."
Whitebeard raised his massive hand and placed it flat against the broad side of Stormbreaker's blade.
It was a huge hand, covered in old scars and calluses. He didn't look like he was handling a weapon; he looked like he was steadying a warship about to set sail.
"Since the weapon is forged, it's time to send it where it belongs," Whitebeard declared.
Eitri's face paled. "Wait, you aren't thinking about—"
Whitebeard didn't let him finish. He raised his other hand, fingers spread wide, and dug his grip directly into the edge of the massive Neutron Star Ring looming in front of him.
Rocket Raccoon's fur practically stood on end. "Are you out of your damn mind?! That thing isn't even pure metal anymore! It moves on the residual rotation of a star core, and you're trying to pull it with your bare hands?!"
Whitebeard merely shot him an arrogant, wild grin. "The one thing I've never feared in my entire life is something that refuses to budge."
The next second, the absolute power of the awakened Tremor-Tremor Fruit violently exploded down his arm.
The residual flames above Nidavellir shook wildly. The entire forge let out a deep, deafening groan, as if an ancient behemoth were rolling over inside the planet.
The Neutron Star Ring was forcefully dragged forward by an inch.
Eitri's eyes nearly popped out of his skull. "That's impossible!"
Rocket's jaw hung open for several seconds before he finally managed to choke out, "Well, I'll be a son of a b*tch. I've seen it all."
Whitebeard sank his stance, dropping his shoulder, the muscles in his arm bulging like coiled dragons.
The star ring moved again.
This time, it wasn't just an inch. An entire orbit of fiery trajectory was violently ripped open along the metallic structure. The remaining high-temperature liquid metal inside the forge was dragged along, swirling wildly as it poured directly into the grooves of the axe blade.
Thor instantly understood Whitebeard's intent. He hoisted Stormbreaker high above his head, forcefully suppressing the rampant lightning tearing through the weapon.
"Now!" Eitri roared.
Whitebeard gave the star ring a massive, brutal yank. Thor simultaneously slammed the handle of the axe toward the center of the forge. Fire, lightning, cosmic metal, and Groot's wooden arm flawlessly fused together in the exact same instant, permanently sealing the last micro-fissures in Stormbreaker.
With a crisp, echoing metallic ring, the entire forge fell dead silent.
Stormbreaker was complete.
Thor looked down at it, his breathing growing heavier.
This was not Mjolnir. This was a true weapon of slaughter, designed to cleave a battlefield in two.
Rocket hopped over, measuring his claws against the axe blade. "Alright, well, at least it looks a hell of a lot more reliable than that stupid hammer. Just try not to chop your own foot off."
Thor didn't bother arguing with him. He just looked up at Whitebeard. "How do we get back?"
Whitebeard let go of the star ring and twisted his wrist, aiming his palm at the empty void of space in front of them. "Getting back is the easy part."
Eitri was stunned. "You can tear through space too?!"
"Gurararara! I can shatter the heavens themselves! What the hell is a little space?!"
With that, he violently clenched his right hand into a claw and pulled back. The air caved in severely before the entire void let out a bone-chilling, screeching shatter.
Rocket instinctively grabbed his helmet. Looking up, he saw the cosmos ahead of them practically punched open. The black fissure expanded rapidly, and through the other side, he could perfectly see the churning thunderclouds looming over New York.
Skyscrapers, explosions, flying debris, and the silhouette of a woman wielding a black blade all pressed in with crystal clarity.
"Is that... New York?" Thor stood frozen for half a second.
"Exactly," Whitebeard grinned. "Your battlefield is over there. I'm giving you a lift."
Rocket's whiskers twitched wildly. "Wait, wait, wait! This ain't a spaceship! You just punched a damn door in space!"
Whitebeard glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "If you're too scared, you can stay here and keep whining."
Rocket choked, then instantly hopped onto Thor's shoulder. "Who the hell said I was scared?! Let's go kick her ass!"
Thor hefted Stormbreaker, the lightning coating his armor already completely out of control.
He stared at the rift leading to New York, the fury he had suppressed for so long finally finding a singular outlet. Asgard was destroyed. His family was dead. His hammer was shattered, and the Bifrost was gone.
Now, he only had one thing left to do.
Cleave Hela in half. Cleave anyone who stood in his way.
"Whitebeard," Thor said, his voice heavy as iron. "If I make it back alive, I will remember this day."
Whitebeard laughed. "Cut the crap! Rip that woman's head off first, then we can talk!"
Thor gave a firm nod. In a flash of blinding lightning, he charged straight into the spatial rift.
Rocket Raccoon clung to his shoulder, firing his gun into the air as they crossed. "If I get shredded by a space storm, I'm coming back as a ghost to haunt your ass!"
Whitebeard was the last to step onto the edge of the rift, the fiery glow of the star ring stretching into a thin, elongated line behind him.
Back on the New York battlefield, Imu and Hela were clashing head-on above the ruins, red and purple light colliding so violently that the entire sky was trembling.
Just as Hela raised the Power Stone to unleash another oppressive wave, a frenzied axe blade burst out from a spatial rift.
Then, Thor descended from the heavens. Stormbreaker, wrapped in apocalyptic lightning, slammed directly into the center of the battlefield, instantly shattering the wave of purple energy.
Hela looked up, her expression changing for the very first time.
Whitebeard landed right behind him, his massive boots crushing a large swath of rubble. He slammed the butt of his naginata into the ground, looking up at the two women in the center of the battlefield, a wild, arrogant smirk spreading across his face.
"Gurararara! Am I late to the party?"
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