Thunder echoed across every corner of the Atlantic Ocean, its reverberations shaking the very foundations of the sea floor. Storm clouds gathered with supernatural speed, their formations guided by divine will rather than meteorological patterns. Massive waves rose like liquid mountains, swallowing entire islands as the ocean itself responded to the presence of godlike power.
Thor stood beneath the thunderclouds like a figure from legend made manifest, his single remaining eye blazing with electrical discharge that transformed the stormy atmosphere into his personal weapon. The golden eye patch that covered his sacrificed eye seemed to glow with its own inner light, marking the price he had paid for space wisdom.
"Evildoer who would disrupt the order of the Nine Realms," his voice carried across the churning waters with the authority of divine judgment, "welcome your doom!"
He raised both arms toward the storm-darkened sky, and lightning became solid in his grasp, not mere electrical discharge, but weaponized space force that carried runic inscriptions along its crackling length. The power flowing through him transcended anything he had previously commanded, enhanced by the Mana that now formed an integral part of his divine essence.
Perhaps Thor had not yet achieved the full authority of the legendary Rune King, but his sacrifice granted him glimpses of universal truth that elevated him far beyond his previous capabilities. The combination of traditional Asgardian might and Ben's dimensional energy had created something genuinely unprecedented.
Thal'Ba, despite his Sky Hammer enhancement, was simply outclassed.
The runic lightning struck with the force of space judgment, bypassing conventional defenses to strike directly at the alien warrior's enhanced essence. The impact carved a crater in the ocean floor deep enough to hide aircraft carriers, while Thal'Ba's screams were lost in the thunder that announced his destruction.
Thor allowed himself a moment of satisfaction before recalling Gungnir to his hand with a casual gesture. The golden spear flew across the storm-tossed waters like a guided missile, its trajectory correcting itself to land perfectly in his grasp.
From his elevated position, Thor's enhanced perception swept across the global battlefield, cataloging the status of each engagement with the analytical precision of a true war leader.
In the frozen reaches of northern Europe, Loki had proven that his reputation as the greatest mage in the Nine Realms was well-deserved. Fighting alongside Frigga and their recently freed sister, the three divine spell-casters had systematically dismantled their opponent's defenses with the kind of coordinated precision that spoke of centuries of shared experience.
"Well done, brother," Thor murmured, genuine pride warming his voice.
Loki's transformation since their reunion had been remarkable. The fusion of Mana with his natural sorcerous abilities had created something that transcended either power source individually. Where once he had relied on cunning and trickery to overcome superior forces, now he possessed the raw magical might to enforce his will directly.
One of the Sky Hammer Messenger replacing Thal'Ba in that region was already contained, divine illusions and reality-warping spells having reduced the space weapon to little more than an elaborate club in the hands of someone who could no longer distinguish between truth and carefully crafted deception.
Thor's gaze shifted southward, where the advanced African nation was experiencing its own trial by fire. Wakanda had faced technological threats before, the Ultron crisis had tested their defenses and found them adequate against conventional artificial intelligence.
But this invasion operated on an entirely different scale.
A single Sky Hammer Messenger should have been capable of overwhelming Wakanda's military forces through sheer space superiority. Their vibranium technology, impressive by terrestrial standards, was fundamentally inadequate for space-level conflicts.
However, Wakanda was no longer fighting alone.
"Fight back!" King T'Chaka's voice boomed across the battlefield, his enhanced physiology allowing him to project commands that could be heard over the sounds of combat. "Stand with our Plumber allies! Drive back these invaders!"
"Long live the Plumbers!" the response came from thousands of throats as traditional Wakandan warriors charged alongside space peacekeepers, their vibranium weapons enhanced by alien technology and their tactics coordinated by beings with interstellar combat experience.
In the sky, Caiera and Brunnhilde rode their flying mounts like Valkyries from myth, their combined mastery of Old Power and Mana turning them into aerial artillery that could match space-level threats. On the ground, Nebulaband T'Challa's enhanced Black Panther abilities provided the kind of elite strike capability that could exploit openings created by their aerial support.
The sight filled Thor with satisfaction. Wakanda's isolationist traditions had been abandoned in favor of practical cooperation, and the results spoke for themselves. What should have been a one-sided massacre had become a coordinated defense that was slowly gaining the upper hand.
The American West Coast had been transformed into a vision of apocalypse, where the Ash Queen Sindr's fire demons had turned entire metropolitan areas into molten hellscapes. Temperatures had risen beyond the tolerance of normal human life, forcing massive evacuations while supernatural flames consumed everything in their path.
But even cosmic fire could be contained by sufficient power properly applied.
Wanda Maximoff stood at the center of the inferno like a scarlet goddess, her Chaos Magic manifesting as reality-warping shields that simply refused to acknowledge the existence of Sindr's attacks. Where the alien queen's flames sought to consume, Wanda's spells declared that combustion was no longer permitted in the affected areas.
The Scarlet Witch's power had grown exponentially since her recruitment into the Plumbers. Her performance during the Asgard crisis, where she had simultaneously battled multiple space-level threats, had been merely a preview of her current capabilities. The woman now facing Sindr possessed magical might that approached the levels demonstrated during her legendary confrontation with Thanos.
Pietro Maximoff provided support by evacuating civilians at superhuman speed, his enhanced velocity allowing him to stay ahead of even supernatural flame-fronts while carrying refugees to safety. But the real battle was between two reality-manipulators whose conflict threatened to rewrite the fundamental laws of physics across several states.
Thor's enhanced sight extended beyond the atmosphere to the Plumber orbital station, where what should have been a catastrophic loss had been transformed into an unexpected victory. Norman Osborn's desperate gambit, unleashing the Hulk against Sevenseven, had initially seemed like trading one disaster for another.
But Eunice.'s timely return had changed everything.
The advanced AI, enhanced by the Mind Stone and operating within a vibranium-Extremis hybrid body, had simply reached out with her consciousness and gently convinced the Hulk that his anger was no longer necessary. The transition from unstoppable force of destruction to mild-mannered scientist had taken less than thirty seconds.
"Remarkable," Thor observed. The combination of space-level artificial intelligence and Infinity Stone enhancement had created something approaching a technological goddess, capable of resolving conflicts that would challenge even divine intervention.
That left only one Sky Hammer Messenger still active, facing the most conventional of Earth's defenders. By all tactical logic, this should have been the most hopeless battle, ordinary humans with enhanced abilities trying to match space power through determination and teamwork.
But even as Thor watched, a familiar red and gold figure descended from the sky like a falling star.
"Everyone, did you miss me?" Tony Stark's voice carried across the battlefield with his characteristic blend of confidence and showmanship.
The armor he wore was unlike anything Thor had seen before, sleeker than his previous designs, but radiating power signatures that suggested fundamental improvements in both protection and offensive capability. Shoulder-mounted weapons systems deployed with mechanical precision, launching a barrage of missiles that struck Sixsix with enough force to stagger even a space-enhanced opponent.
"Don't get too excited," Tony continued, his repulsors charging with energy that made the air itself ionize. "I'm not the same playboy you remember. Exile has a way of focusing one's priorities."
"Sakaar was under attack as well," he explained to his stunned teammates while maintaining suppressive fire on their opponent. "When Earth faced this kind of crisis, I couldn't just stand by and watch. Nebula brought me back, nice girl, even set up a lab for me. Honestly, this new armor design is much more suited to my current situation."
The casual mention of new energy sources and enhanced capabilities suggested that Tony's time on Sakaar had been far more productive than mere survival. Whatever resources Ben had made available to him, they had clearly been put to excellent use.
"I'm sorry, Vilgax," Ben said, rising from the crater floor with the kind of casual confidence that suggested the previous beating had been little more than a temporary inconvenience. "But it looks like your Messengers have been having a rather poor showing."
The mockery in his tone was deliberate and calculated. Less than a minute earlier, Vilgax had been boasting about the inevitable victory his space weapons would deliver. Now, the tide of battle had turned so dramatically that most of his enhanced warriors were either dead or contained.
Vilgax's expression darkened, but not with the kind of rage Ben had expected. Instead, there was something approaching cold satisfaction in the alien warlord's scarlet eyes.
"Trash remains trash," Vilgax observed with dismissive calm. "If they cannot serve my purposes, their deaths are irrelevant. But this failure only reinforces why I need the Omnitrix, only that device can provide truly reliable soldiers."
He stepped forward, space power radiating from his enhanced form like heat from a furnace. "You mistake me, Ben Parker. I never relied on others for victory. The Messengers were merely a distraction while I prepared for our final confrontation."
Before he could advance further, lightning split the artificial night sky, striking Vilgax's chest with enough force to drive him backward several steps. The attack hadn't caused significant damage, but it had definitely gotten his attention.
"That is enough, Vilgax," Thor announced as he materialized from the lightning itself, his divine form crackling with residual energy.
His single eye took in the scene before him, Ben apparently defeated, Vilgax radiating space power, the crater that had once been Manhattan, and for a moment, uncertainty flickered across his features. If Ben Parker, the man his father had recognized as a peer, could be overwhelmed by this threat, what hope did Thor himself have?
But uncertainty was not the same as cowardice. Whatever the odds, whatever the personal cost, he would not retreat while the Nine Realms faced destruction.
"King of Sakaar, withdraw," Thor commanded, drawing the sword Ragnarok from its sheath across his back. The blade hummed with prophetic power, its runes spelling out the destiny that awaited him. "Leave this to me."
The weapon's name was no coincidence. Thor had learned certain truths during his time at the Fountain of Life, glimpsed prophecies that spoke of his ultimate fate. According to the ancient words, Thor would end Ragnarok through his own death, perishing alongside Odin's brother Cul in a battle that would save the Nine Realms.
The Sky Hammers were Cul's weapons. Vilgax's power was clearly connected to the Serpent's fear-based authority. If the prophecy held true, then Thor's death in battle might be the key to destroying this space threat permanently.
Perhaps this is my destiny, he thought, closing his eyes in acceptance of what must come.
Then Ben elbowed him in the kidney.
"Ow! What are you doing?" Thor demanded, clutching his side while staring at Ben in confusion.
"That's what I should be asking you," Ben replied, his tone carrying the kind of exasperated patience usually reserved for dealing with particularly thick children. "You're a Plumber security officer, not a space sacrifice. Stand aside and let the professionals handle this."
"Security officer?" Thor sputtered, his divine dignity somewhat undermined by his defensive posture. "I'm the God of Thunder! The rightful king of Asgard! I came here to help!"
"And I appreciate the gesture," Ben said, patting Thor's shoulder with condescending sympathy, "but this isn't a situation where noble gestures and prophetic destiny solve anything. Which eye of yours saw me losing? Oh, right, you only have one left. I suppose that explains the depth perception problem."
Thor blinked in confusion, his brain struggling to process the casual dismissal of everything he'd thought he understood about the situation.
"The fun," Ben continued with a grin that was equal parts confident and predatory, "is just getting started."
So Thor stepped aside, his mind reeling as he tried to reconcile what he was witnessing with his expectations of space combat.
"You dismissed your backup?" Vilgax asked, genuine puzzlement coloring his voice. "I have to admit, that level of stupidity exceeds even my expectations. Of course, even with that primitive god's assistance, you would still have no chance of victory."
He flexed his enhanced muscles, space energy crackling between his fingers as he prepared to demonstrate the full scope of his transformed capabilities. "My power is invincible throughout the universe! No force in creation can stand against me!"
"That's where you might be wrong," Ben replied, his hand moving to cover the Omnitrix's faceplate. "Tell me, have you ever heard of a life form forged within the heart of a cosmic storm?"
Vilgax froze, a chill running down his spine that had nothing to do with temperature and everything to do with ancestral memory awakening in his enhanced consciousness.
"You couldn't mean..." his voice carried a tremor that he couldn't quite suppress, "the To'kustars?"
The word seemed to hang in the air like a curse, carrying implications that reached back to the earliest days of galactic civilization. Somewhere in the depths of Vilgax's genetic memory, warnings stirred, ancient fears that even space enhancement couldn't entirely erase.
He shook his head violently, trying to dispel the irrational dread that was attempting to take hold of his thoughts.
"Impossible!" he snarled, though his voice lacked its previous confidence. "My power has transcended every limitation in the universe! Even the To'kustars couldn't challenge what I've become!"
"Let's test that theory," Ben said, his grin becoming positively feral.
"Celestial Way Big!"
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