[Third Person Pov]
The air in the room hung thick with tension, the revelation too large to ignore. Peter stood near the center of the group, arms loosely crossed, his expression shifting from wry amusement to something far more contemplative.
"Well then," he said quietly, almost to himself, "this has certainly just gotten very interesting." He fell silent for a moment, brow furrowed, clearly turning the entire ordeal over in his mind like a puzzle with missing pieces.
Thor, frowned in genuine confusion. "What is this… Hell?" he asked, understanding a bit but not entirely "I am guessing, from everyone's reactions, that it is not a particularly good place. Is it like Helheim?"
Peter tilted his head, weighing the comparison. "Kinda?" he answered, searching for the right frame of reference for an Asgardian. "Think of it more like a combination of Muspelheim and Helheim. Except instead of being where the dead are simply laid to rest, it's where the souls of the damned—and those who've committed the worst sins—go to be punished. Demons of every kind. Endless torment. Not exactly a vacation destination."
Thor's eyes lit with sudden fire. He clenched one massive fist, the adventurous spirit that had carried him across the Nine Realms flaring bright. "I see! Sounds like an adventure!"
"No." Peter's voice sharpened. He crossed his arms into a firm X in front of his chest for emphasis. "The goal is not to go there. Hell is not good. Our job here is to stop him from opening the gates to Hell in the first place."
Mary Jane stepped forward slightly, arms folded, her sharp mind already picking at the larger question. "The real issue," she said, "is what someone like Doom wants from Hell in the first place."
Felicia gave a short, skeptical scoff. "What else would a power-hungry magician want from a place like that? Probably to make a deal with the devil."
Liz raised an eyebrow, her tone dry. "For what? Power to rule the world? That's the classic super-villain starter kit."
Ben huffed, his rocky features twisting with obvious disdain. "Wouldn't put it past the guy."
Reed, however, looked unconvinced. He tapped a finger thoughtfully against his chin. "Hmm… I'm not so sure. You have to account for the fact that Victor is highly intelligent—and extraordinarily prideful. He wouldn't simply accept power from someone else if that power could later be taken away. He would never be satisfied with strength that wasn't his own, or that didn't originate from his own genius."
Bruce gestured toward Thor with a wry half-smile. "That same guy stole Thor's hammer. Doesn't sound like he's all that averse to borrowing power when it suits him."
At the mention of Mjolnir, Thor's earlier enthusiasm dimmed. His shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly, the loss still raw.
Reed considered the point carefully, then nodded. "If it is Victor, he would almost certainly reason that everyone else is too foolish or unworthy to wield the hammer properly—and that only someone of his caliber could unlock its full potential. Therefore, by his logic, it must rightfully belong to him."
Peter shot Reed a strange, almost impressed look. "You're seriously able to know what he's thinking that thoroughly? That concretely?"
Reed simply shrugged. "It's not that difficult. His pride makes him remarkably predictable."
Peter couldn't help the quiet chuckle that escaped him. He shook his head. "Don't let him hear you say that, or he might turn you into silly string."
Reed allowed himself a small answering chuckle. Peter's expression grew more serious as he looked around the room at the assembled faces.
"Sitting here trading theories is only going to send us running in circles," he said. "We know where he is. We can make a solid guess at what he's after. The only real option left is to go stop him."
Reed's face hardened with resolve. He stepped forward. "Then let us come. Now that we understand the stakes, we can't simply sit here and do nothing."
Peter blinked, then gave a small, amused smile. "Why are you asking me? You guys are your own team. It's not like we could stop you if you decided to tag along and handle him yourselves."
There was a hint of amusement in his voice. The whole situation was slightly ridiculous when he thought about it. These were superheroes asking him, someone younger than every person in the room, for permission to join them.
Reed smiled and nodded in understanding. He stepped closer and extended his hand. "You're right. I understand." His voice carried quiet conviction. "We're coming along. You can count on the full cooperation of the Fantastic Four."
Thor, clearly electrified by the moment, threw his head back and bellowed, "To reclaim my hammer!"
Peter's gaze shifted to the God of Thunder. An inward sigh escaped him as the weight of leadership settled more heavily across his shoulders. "Actually, Thor… it's better if you don't come."
The excited grin on Thor's face faltered at once. The sudden change felt like a physical blow to Peter's gut, but he forced himself to continue.
"And why not?" Thor demanded, voice low. "Is it because I do not have my hammer?"
"It's more than that," Peter said, apologetic but firm. "It's just too dangerous. I can't guarantee your safety. I'm sorry."
Gwen Stacy spoke up from the side. "I hate to say it, but I agree with Spidey."
Peter's head snapped toward her. "What do you mean you hate to say you agree with me—?"
"I meant it about Thor," Gwen grumbled, shooting him an exasperated look. "I hate to say it for his sake, you dunce." She turned back to the Asgardian while Peter stood off to the side, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. "As things stand right now, you'd be nothing more than a liability."
Thor's face became a mask of frustration. He stared down at his own empty hands, clenching and unclenching them slowly, silently chastising himself for the weakness he could not yet overcome.
"But I cannot simply do nothing while you fight in my stead," Thor said, his voice firm despite the frustration weighing heavily on him. "That goes against everything I stand for. I am more than merely the God of Thunder. I am a warrior, a protector, and the God of Strength. I know that may not mean much now that I have been separated from Mjolnir, but I have carried those responsibilities for as long as I can remember."
Thor clenched his fists at his sides, his gaze falling briefly to his empty hands before rising again.
"Since I was a child, I was raised to fight. I was taught to stand beside my allies when they faced danger, not remain behind while others risk their lives in my place. Mjolnir may be gone, but that does not mean I have forgotten who I am."
His expression hardened with determination. Thor looked around at the others, his expression becoming more resolute.
"If Doom intends to open the gates of Hell, then I cannot remain behind while others risk their lives to stop him. Whether I wield Mjolnir or not, I will not abandon my duty simply because I have been stripped of one of my greatest weapons. I am still Thor of Asgard, and I will fight with whatever strength remains to me."
"You could die, you know," Peter said, the words delivered with deliberate casualness, though the sharp edge beneath them made it clear he was testing Thor's resolve rather than simply stating a fact.
Thor's response was immediate. He clenched one massive fist at his side, blue eyes burning with unshakable conviction. "I am not afraid, Spider-Man. If I die, then Valhalla will simply be welcoming another warrior."
The room fell quieter for a beat. Every set of eyes shifted between the two of them—Peter's lean, practical form and Thor's towering, almost defiant posture. The contrast was impossible to ignore.
Peter raised a brow at the formal use of his alias rather than one of the usual nicknames. He tilted his head back, exhaled a long, resigned breath, and muttered, "Sigh… Why do you have to be so freaking cool?"
He pressed two fingers to his forehead for a moment, then dropped his hand and looked around at the assembled group. "I'm delaying the trip for a few extra minutes. In the meantime, gather your gear and get ready."
His gaze settled on Aria and Lizzy. He motioned them over with a quick tilt of his chin. "You two are with me. I'm going to need your help with something."
Thor's head lifted hopefully. He gestured to himself with both hands. "Does this mean I can go?"
"Yes," Peter answered, already turning toward the shimmering edge of a forming portal, "but not empty-handed. Just give me a few minutes." He stepped through, Aria and Lizzy following close behind, both of them looking more confused than anything as the portal sealed shut behind them.
Felicia watched the residual sparkles fade, curiosity plain on her face. "What do you think he wants with those two?"
Harry considered it for a moment, arms folded. "Whenever Aria and Firestar end up working together, it's usually to repair or build something on short notice. So he probably just thought of something and needs their combined skills."
…
A short while later the group stood gathered once more inside the spider-themed hideout when Peter, Aria, and Lizzy reappeared. The two young women each carried objects carefully wrapped in dark cloth.
Thor had been deep in conversation with Harry about past adventures across the Nine Realms, gesturing animatedly with both hands. Peter called his name and motioned him over.
"If you're serious about joining us," Peter said, voice steady, "you'll need some form of protection—something to defend yourself with." He nodded toward Aria.
She stepped forward and carefully unwrapped the cloth in her hands, revealing a circular silver shield of polished metal. Without hesitation she fitted it over Thor's forearm, adjusting the straps until it sat secure.
"The shield has built-in shock absorption," Peter explained. "It should protect you against most forms of direct damage."
Thor lifted and lowered his arm experimentally, testing the weight. "It is… very light," he murmured, genuine interest coloring his tone.
"And the second piece," Peter continued, holding out a hand to Lizzy. She passed him the remaining wrapped object. He pulled the cloth away, revealing a large, solid mallet with a short, reinforced handle. "It isn't Mjolnir, but it should serve as a workable substitute for now."
Peter gave the hammer a few experimental spins. With each rotation it began to hum, gathering visible energy along the head. "The more you spin it, the more kinetic energy it stores."
He glanced at Thor. "Shield up."
"What?" Thor asked, still staring at the hammer in open surprise.
Peter didn't wait for a clearer answer. He swung the mallet in a controlled arc straight toward Thor. Instinct took over; the Asgardian raised the silver shield just in time. The impact landed with a thunderous crack. A visible explosion of kinetic force erupted from the point of contact, the shockwave rolling outward in a sharp burst of displaced air. Thor was driven several feet backward, boots scraping across the floor. His arms trembled from the residual force. He looked from the hammer in Peter's hand to the shield on his own forearm in pure astonishment.
Harry's eyes narrowed with particular interest. "Isn't that kind of like my abilities?"
"Yes," Peter confirmed, already spinning the hammer again to demonstrate the next function. "It follows the same basic principles. That's where I got the idea in the first place. The stored energy can also be released as a concussive blast. And the handle can extend for longer reach or harder strikes when you need them."
He tossed the hammer underhand. Thor scrambled to catch it, then clutched it against his chest with almost reverent care. Peter's expression turned faintly apologetic. "Time was limited, so this is the best I could put together on short notice. I wasn't able to add any enchantments. That means even if you throw it the way you would Mjolnir, it won't come back to you. Keep that in mind."
Thor shook his head slowly, voice low and sincere. "No. This is enough. Thank you." He stepped forward and pulled Peter into a firm, bone-jarring hug. "I promise to make great use of these artifacts. You have my eternal gratitude."
Peter's eyes widened slightly at the sudden contact. He gave Thor's broad back a few awkward pats. "Oh—we're doing this now. Okay. Just… don't die, or my conscience won't be able to take it."
From the side, Lizzy crossed her arms and began to pout. "We helped too, you know. Why is he the only one getting thanked—and a hug?"
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