As it turned out…
Nick Fury's panic was entirely unnecessary.
When he arrived at Luke's grocery store with Maria Hill trailing behind him, the scene that greeted them at the door stopped them in their tracks.
Thor, the Asgardian prince, thunder god, and warrior of a thousand battles, was squatting on the floor, clutching Mjölnir and sobbing like a child.
Tears streamed down his cheeks and pooled on the handle of the hammer.
Luke Yale, standing beside him, gently patted his shoulder, voice soft and comforting.
"Come on now, it's just a hammer. Not the end of the world," Luke said warmly. "The world's a big place, you'll find plenty of weapons out there. Stronger, sleeker, better suited to a powerful warrior like you."
Fury froze in the doorway, one foot lifted mid-step.
Hill stood beside him, blinking rapidly.
"…What are we looking at?" she muttered under her breath.
Barton stood nearby, arms awkwardly crossed, his expression a mix of confusion and secondhand embarrassment.
He looked at the newcomers and gave a helpless shrug.
"I-I don't even know," he mouthed silently.
…
Originally, Thor had stormed into the store, chest puffed out and pride brimming, ready to wrest Mjölnir back by force.
His tone had been less than polite.
But to Barton's utter disbelief, Luke hadn't shown the slightest trace of anger. In fact, he had welcomed Thor, even handed over the hammer without hesitation, as if it was just another item off the shelf.
And then… everything spiraled.
Thor reached for Mjölnir with anticipation burning in his eyes.
But no matter how hard he pulled, no matter how many veins bulged in his neck, the hammer refused to budge.
He yanked. He growled. He even tried kicking the floor for leverage.
Nothing.
And just like that, Thor collapsed, kneeling beside the unmoving hammer, grief washing over him in a wave.
Now he clutched it gently, like a long time lover that had just informed him she was leaving him out of nowhere.
Luke remained beside him, still offering comfort.
Thor finally spoke, his voice thick with emotion.
"The last time I failed to lift Mjölnir… it was Father's doing. A test. But even then, I knew it still waited for me, I could still feel it."
He sniffled, his broad shoulders trembling.
"But now… now I feel nothing. As if it's truly abandoned me."
His fingers trembled as they curled tighter around the handle.
"We've faced many wars together… suffered, triumphed… over a thousand years! And now our connection, it's just… gone?"
Even Hill, who'd faced alien invasions and world-ending threats, felt her throat tighten.
Watching Thor grieve over a hammer like it was a lost soulmate was bizarre… but undeniably moving.
Wasn't this a kind of love too?
…
The silence stretched until Luke, still calm, gave Thor another gentle pat.
"You know… I think you've outgrown it."
Thor sniffed. "What?"
"That hammer's too small for a warrior like you. Doesn't reflect your strength, or your beard, for that matter. You need a real weapon. Something... with presence."
He raised a hand and gave a subtle nod to Wanda, who had been leaning on a nearby shelf watching silently.
She nodded back, rolled her eyes slightly, and disappeared into the back.
Moments later, she returned dragging a massive, oversized axe, its blade gleaming dully under the store's fluorescent lights.
The design was… striking. Crude, almost. The kind of thing a child might think looks "cool."
It resembled Stormbreaker, but like a plastic knockoff made from at least thirty kilos of solid metal.
Wanda struggled under its weight, scraping it across the floor until Luke held up a hand.
"Just drop it." No way he was going to try lifting that big lump of metal and embarrass himself by failing.
BANG~!
The axe hit the ground with a deafening clang, startling everyone.
Even Thor blinked out of his grief for a moment, glancing at the axe with interest.
"…Nice shape," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. "But I still prefer Mjölnir."
Luke's brow twitched.
'No, no, no. That's not how this was supposed to go, why isn't he following the script?'
He glanced toward the counter.
There it was: the lucky cat, cheerfully waving its paw up and down.
'Still second-level… is that why it's not working on him?'
Luke's eyes narrowed.
Thor might be a god, but mentally… Well, he wasn't exactly Einstein.
So why wasn't he being affected?
Fury, observing quietly, noticed Luke's change in expression.
His stomach twisted.
Oh no. He's about to do something.
…
Luke turned sharply, his expression unreadable.
He walked calmly toward the counter, and with a swift motion, grabbed the lucky cat statue and tossed it onto the floor.
It landed with a thud, its golden body wobbling.
Wanda looked up in surprise.
"Wanda," Luke said coldly, arms crossed. "Tear that thing apart. Throw it in the trash. We need a new one."
Everyone froze.
Fury's blood ran cold.
'What the hell is happening?'
'Why is he angry at a cat statue?!'
Even Barton looked utterly dumbfounded.
"Is this… normal?" Hill whispered, eyes wide.
"Nothing seems normal here," Barton replied grimly.
Wanda hesitated, she loved that lucky cat.
She didn't understand, but she wasn't about to contradict her brother in public.
She stepped toward the lucky cat, hand glowing faintly red, clearly ready to comply even if it hurt her heart.
…
Then, suddenly, a chime echoed inside Luke's head.
[Ding! The lucky cat felt the anger in the owner's voice. It has increased its power threefold. Even elite agents cannot get out of its influence!]
Luke raised an eyebrow, glancing down.
The cat was trembling faintly, as if begging for mercy.
A flicker of amusement crossed his face.
Still, his arms remained folded, his expression cold.
'Just one more push…'
As Wanda neared the statue, another chime rang out in Luke's mind.
[Ding! The lucky cat is terrified. It has evolved again. Current influence increased tenfold. Even gods can no longer resist!]
Luke raised a hand just as Wanda's boot hovered above the poor cat.
"Okay, it's okay, I was just joking," he said casually.
He stepped forward, scooped the trembling cat back up, and returned it to the counter like nothing happened.
"Put it back where it was."
Wanda blinked, then obediently placed it back on its perch.
Its tiny paw resumed waving almost immediately.
'Is that sweat on its forehead?' she narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
…