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….
"Very well," the professor nodded, forestalling Summers.
Soon, leaving the bowels of the plane, we moved toward the secret camp of the super-secret organization.
Since I wasn't entirely materially present in Midgard, Cyclops had to push Xavier's wheelchair over the bumps and grass.
I immediately covered all tracks with telekinesis, and after that, just divert the eyes of personnel and equipment and march forward.
Charles tried to help me with his own telepathy, but I talked him out of it, it would be better if he didn't use his powers when it all started.
So, ten minutes later, we were inside the perimeter, approaching the main waypoint.
The last turn in a corridor covered with plastic sheeting, and we found ourselves at a crater, in the middle of which lay a chunk of rock with a hammer half-sunk into it.
"Hmm…" the prof examined the tool carefully. "Don't tell me that's Mjolnir."
"I won't; you already figured it out yourself."
"And what is it doing here?" Scott asked with a slightly nervous smile.
"It's playing Excalibur. The harsh Nordic version. Although actually Caliburn, because Excalibur is the Lady of the Lake's sword, and it wasn't sticking in a stone at the election of the King of Britain."
"But you humans constantly confuse even fairy tales of your own making, let alone real events. And the education level of Hollywood screenwriters is a separate song entirely; with such an approach to educating the youth, a little more and you'll slide back into the Stone Age, honestly…"
"Loki…" the telepath sighed wearily, looking at me.
"Fine," I raised my hands in a defensive gesture. "My moron brother screwed up big time. So badly that he was exiled to Earth and stripped of his powers, and then Odin came up with nothing smarter than to throw his Hammer down after him. Probably, an educational moment was planned so the guy would suffer, but now this hammer is being studied by a crowd of soldiers from a shady agency, which is stuffed with spies from an even shadier agency. Basically, I need this hammer to stay with someone normal until I sort out this hemorrhoid. And I can't find a better candidate than you, Professor. It's not like I'm going to ask Erik, is it?"
"That isn't everything, is it?" Xavier clarified, looking at me shrewdly.
"Not everything," I nodded in agreement, "but I can't tell you more, and I can only ask you to trust me."
"Alright…" Charles nodded. "What do I need to do?"
"Almost nothing, just take it and keep it with you for now."
"Okay." His look read something between "Why didn't you just drag it away yourself?" and "Making an old invalid lift heavy war hammers, you should be ashamed."
Charles turned back to the artifact and extended his hand to the handle.
"I'll help," Cyclops jerked forward to assist with lifting the weight.
"Don't," I instantly created another phantom in his path, forcing him to recoil. "Believe me, I'm asking Charles for a reason."
"Um…" the mutant glanced at his teacher but met only a calm closing of the eyes.
Xavier finally touched the handle with the brown leather loop… and without the slightest effort pulled Mjolnir out of the stone pedestal.
My real body, sitting on Odin's throne, held its breath while the illusions hastily backed away from the professor.
Magical energy had already thickened around the telepath, literally yanking him out of the chair and suspending him in the air.
I watched as the magic and the essence of the hammer rushed into his organism, healing the worn-out body.
With an inaudible crunch, the damaged spine was restored, and his legs filled with former strength and mobility.
Wrinkles smoothed out, and lightning flashed in his blue eyes.
Lightning also enveloped Mjolnir.
The heavens turned black, swelling with fat clouds in mere seconds, thunder crashed, and a broad white bolt of lightning struck the weapon, saturating and restoring the reserves of magic spent on healing the human.
And immediately, armor began to materialize on Xavier from the hammer's pocket dimension, encasing his body in high-tech scales and placing a scarlet cloak on his shoulders.
And, Gods… Charles Xavier in a Thor costume looked indescribably surreal, but very… very brutal.
"Ha, now you are definitely Storm's daddy," in Asgard, I wiped drops of sweat from my forehead.
Maintaining a magical illusion and suggestion on a whole crowd of people during such a riot of forces was difficult even with the support of Gungnir and the King's throne, which was specially created to facilitate remote magical influences and far-sight across the boundaries of worlds.
But it's okay, I managed. Look, everyone is walking around calmly and studying printouts, as if lightning didn't just blow apart half the "sarcophagus" over the weapon right here.
"Professor!" Scott jerked forward, wanting either to help his mentor not fall upon landing or simply to make sure he was okay.
"Loki, what is happening?" having smoothly lowered his feet to the ground next to Cyclops, the telepath looked around at his new appearance in confusion.
"Nothing terrible," I dispelled one extra phantom, "just a small bonus in the form of healing and rejuvenation… or rather, the transition of the organism to the state… mmm, no, not quite the right word… the concept of an Aesir."
"But why? And what next?" the newly minted Thunderer continued to be bewildered.
"Nothing, everything is as I said. I ask you to keep the hammer until I set Thor's brains straight, or until they fall into place themselves. And as a 'storage fee for the artifact,' your health has improved a little. Although," I pretended to think, "I can also offer the position of Acting Thor in Asgard. We have a wonderful climate and even more beautiful landscapes, as well as health insurance, a social package, and all that…"
"No," Charles shook his head, "I have an institute in my care, and that is more than enough for me. But now you can satisfy my curiosity: why was it necessary to hide all this? Were you afraid I would refuse?"
….
If you want to read ahead by 20+ chapters from here you can visit my Patre-on.
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