BOOM——
KRA-KOOOOOOM——
Lightning crashed down from the heavens with apocalyptic force, splitting the sky open like a cosmic zipper. As the blinding flash faded and the crackling electricity dissipated into the air, everyone's eyes adjusted to reveal something impossible—a muscular humanoid figure stood confidently in the smoking crater where lightning had just struck.
"A god from foreign shores?"
"Why have you DARED to trespass on my domain?"
Facing Captain America's group, the previously stoic expression of the Feathered Serpent God—usually as immovable and emotionless as Mount Rushmore—finally cracked with emotion.
His ancient eyes narrowed to slits, pupils constricting like a predator sensing danger. The feathers along his spine bristled and flared outward, creating an intimidating display of color and movement.
His jaw visibly tightened, muscles rippling beneath his scaled skin—unmistakably, he sensed serious danger from this lightning-riding intruder.
"Why am I here?"
"For the ONLY reason that matters—BATTLE! Give me a fight worthy of SONG!"
Thor emerged from the dissipating lightning cloud, his red cape billowing dramatically behind him despite the absence of wind. Each step he took left tiny cracks in the floor, the building itself groaning under the weight of his divine presence.
Blinding arcs of electric current snaked around his massive biceps and broad chest, forming what looked like living armor made of pure thunderstorm energy. The air around him smelled of ozone and scorched metal, and small objects nearby vibrated in response to his power.
That's right!
The God of Thunder had traveled all this way for one simple reason—COMBAT!
Unlike Wolverine and the others—who came chasing talismans, saving the world, or hunting for rewards and recognition...
Thor's motivation couldn't be more straightforward.
He. Wanted. To. FIGHT!!
Having detected the massive surge of divine energy from miles away, he had rocketed through the atmosphere, Mjölnir propelling him faster than sound itself.
If, after an exhilarating, bone-crushing battle, he could also claim a Rat Talisman to satisfy his mission parameters—well, that would be the perfect outcome. It aligned perfectly with Thor's ancient warrior philosophy:
Conquer your enemies! Plunder their treasures! Claim your glory! Rise as the victorious king!
"That pathetic weakling just now barely made me break a sweat. I hope you can actually give me a challenge worth my time~" Thor grinned broadly, his perfect teeth gleaming like pearls in the shadow of storm clouds.
The fighting spirit in his eyes burned with the intensity of a thousand dying stars, his pupils practically glowing with anticipation. Tiny sparks of electricity danced across his beard with each word he spoke.
"That complete and utter MORON!!"
Loki slammed his fist against the golden railing, his expression twisted into a mask of frustration. His earlier concerns had indeed been completely unnecessary.
Wait...
Was I actually WORRIED about that oafish Thor!?
"Don't tell me his brain-dead stupidity has somehow become contagious? No, I must be losing my damn mind!" Loki muttered under his breath as the corner of his mouth twitched involuntarily.
His pale fingers nervously traced patterns on the golden surface before him, leaving faint traces of frost wherever they touched.
KA-BOOOOOM!
Brilliant lightning exploded across the darkening sky, turning night into temporary day.
Deep purple high-voltage currents seemed to transform from energy to matter, liquefying into blazing plasma that poured down like electric rain. The raw power was so intense that nearby streetlights flickered and died, and car alarms blocks away began wailing in mechanical panic.
The air itself became supercharged with violently clashing positive and negative particles, creating a dome of pure energy around the combatants.
Even standing yards away, bystanders could feel their hair rising painfully from their scalps, as if each strand was being individually pierced by static needles. The metallic taste of electricity filled everyone's mouths, and the temperature in the room rocketed upward by twenty degrees in seconds.
THOR!
Was now taking this seriously!
"COME!"
With lightning surging wildly around him like a living tornado, Thor's legendary battle armor materialized from seemingly nowhere and enveloped his body piece by piece. Each segment locked into place with a thunderous click that shook dust from the ceiling.
Standing in his full battle regalia, wielding the mighty Mjölnir which hummed with barely contained power, the God of Thunder was a sight that few mortals ever witnessed—and lived to describe.
Now fully committed to combat, even the mighty Feathered Serpent God's expression involuntarily darkened with something humans rarely see on divine faces—genuine concern.
He could feel it with every fiber of his being—
The existential threat radiating from Thor!
Brilliant emerald energy erupted from Kukulkan's body, creating a protective shield that distorted the very air around him. With no avenue for retreat in the confined space, he was forced to meet Thor's aggression head-on, divine force against divine force.
Perhaps in his true celestial form, the Feathered Serpent God would be nearly invincible.
But…
Unfortunately for him, what stood here was merely a flea market statue temporarily animated by the Rat Talisman's magic. Its foundation was ultimately just a sculptor's crude interpretation in common stone, and its power, while impressive by mortal standards, was severely limited—a pale shadow of the deity's true potential.
As expected—
As the clash of titans intensified—
The Feathered Serpent God began showing unmistakable signs of deterioration. The battle grew increasingly one-sided, his stone body accumulating more damage with each thunderous impact. Violent lightning strikes left smoking, blackened craters across his once-magnificent form. Small chunks of stone were blasted away with each hit, revealing the hollow interior beneath. His movements, initially fluid and graceful, grew increasingly jerky and desperate.
The cosmic scale of victory… was tipping dramatically!
"Son of a BITCH! He's not actually gonna lose, is he?"
"This is complete BULLSHIT! How can He possibly lose? Isn't He supposed to be the almighty Feathered Serpent God? Since when are gods this freaking WEAK!?"
"God DAMN it—"
CRASH! A porcelain teacup exploded against the wall of the conference room, sending shards and hot liquid flying everywhere.
A cluster of high-ranking officials stared at the live broadcast, their expressions cycling between shock, disbelief, and unbridled fury.
Their faces were contorted with rage, veins bulging at their temples, but they remained utterly powerless—reduced to impotent spectators watching their plans crumble in real-time.
If Thor emerged victorious and claimed the talisman, all the elaborate schemes they had meticulously crafted over months would instantly evaporate like morning dew under a blowtorch.
And this particular adversary—was no ordinary mutant they could manipulate, blackmail, or eliminate through their usual underhanded methods.
Even with all their resources—
They hadn't been able to uncover a single scrap of useful background information on Thor, making his outlandish claimed identity seem increasingly plausible, which only complicated matters further.
Having methodically eliminated all other rational explanations, the only conclusion left—no matter how utterly absurd it seemed—had to be accepted as truth:
He truly IS a god!
Thor, the legendary Norse God of Thunder!
And not just any minor deity, but the son of Odin himself, crown prince and heir to the throne of eternal Asgard.
What authority did mere mortals like them possess to threaten or manipulate someone of that cosmic stature? Any misstep could trigger an interplanetary diplomatic crisis. They were painfully aware that not even the full might of their empire would dare act rashly against such a being!
"God DAMN it—"
"The treasure... all that POWER!"
The military brass ground their teeth audibly, their burning avarice suddenly extinguished like a candle in a hurricane—leaving only the bitter taste of defeat and despair etched on their unwilling faces.
It was OVER! They had FAILED!
All their clever manipulations and conspiracies were meaningless against this level of raw power—like paper boats facing a tsunami.
"Norse God of Thunder? Crown Prince of Asgard?"
Nick Fury exhaled deeply, the stress lines on his weathered face seeming to carve themselves deeper into his skin with each passing second.
Each new revelation hit him like body blows, leaving him feeling increasingly burdened, as if Atlas himself had passed the weight of the sky onto his shoulders.
But…
Due to the ongoing situation with Captain America, SHIELD hadn't been in a position of advantage anyway. He hadn't invested too much hope in this mission's potential rewards—he could stomach this loss, though it was still a bitter pill to swallow.
"So... the ancient legends actually hold truth? Gods genuinely walk among us?" Fury's brow furrowed deeper, the responsibility on his shoulders growing exponentially heavier: "We need to immediately start planning countermeasures... protocols for engaging with entities beyond our comprehension..."
His single eye darted around the command center before he barked out orders:
"Coulson! I want every scrap of data we can find on the Norse pantheon—yesterday!"
"Bring in the top scholars specializing in Norse folklore, history, and mythology. I want detailed psychological profiles, family dynamics, alliances, feuds—EVERYTHING! This directly impacts Earth's security posture. I won't accept anything less than total commitment!"
"Time is our most precious resource! MOVE!" Fury's voice echoed through the command center, sending agents scrambling in every direction.
More than naively believing gods were somehow above mortal desires and weaknesses, he firmly believed:
Gods are essentially humans with bigger muscles and bigger problems. Where there are emotions, there are vulnerabilities to exploit. That tiny crack might be humanity's only real advantage…
"DAMN IT!"
Storm slammed her fist onto the conference table with such force that the solid oak cracked, swirling gusts of wind suddenly manifesting around her body, sending papers flying and rattling windows.
Their tactical advantage—evaporated in an instant.
Thor's unexpected appearance had torn through the carefully balanced battlefield like a chainsaw through tissue paper. No combatant present could realistically stand against him. At this rate, the Rat Talisman was practically already hanging from his divine belt.
"…"
The frustration wasn't limited to just the X-Men—they'd watched their prize slip through their fingers.
Even the normally composed Professor X looked genuinely troubled, small beads of sweat forming at his temples despite the room's cool temperature.
Their golden opportunity—
Had vanished right before their eyes!
"What an absolute shame…" Professor X sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping with visible disappointment.
Events had escalated beyond anyone's predictions.
Thor's overwhelming power was now confirmed beyond any shadow of doubt.
The Feathered Serpent God, resurrected only through the limited medium of a decorative statue, simply couldn't maintain this level of combat. He was fundamentally outmatched against the real Thor.
The material composition of the statue was too mundane and fragile. It couldn't properly channel the full potential of the Rat Talisman's magic, nor could it contain the level of power needed for this fight. The revived version of Kukulkan was ultimately too weak—nothing close to his true divine capability—and couldn't hope to defeat Thor in direct combat.
"NICE!"
Loki practically leaped from his seat, punching the air victoriously, a calculating gleam flashing across his emerald eyes like lightning across a stormy sky.
His brilliant mind was already racing through countless devious scenarios and intricate plots.
With his legendary cunning and silver tongue, manipulating Thor into handing over that reward?
Absolute child's play.
He began pacing excitedly, fingers twitching as if already weaving the web of deception he would soon deploy.
"It won't be nearly that simple," Odin sighed deeply and shook his head, long white beard swaying with the motion.
His single penetrating eye remained fixed on the magical projection of the livestream, his previously detached expression now transforming into one of intense concentration.
He leaned forward in his golden throne, massive hands gripping the armrests tightly enough to leave indentations in the metal.
Something—
Had triggered his ancient senses... a power significant enough to command even the All-Father's attention.
It was approaching the battlefield.