**1. Burning Calm After the Anchor**
Jon Snow sat beside Daenerys as she slept — or more accurately, hovered a few inches above the sanctum's glowing runes, wrapped in sheets of flame and silk, breathing slow, her body adapting to her new role as the First Flame's anchor.
For the first time since crossing into this world, Jon felt... something like peace.
But it wouldn't last.
Because something had torn through Wanda's barriers.
The entire carrier shuddered — not from engines, but from pressure in the air. A pressure born of thunder.
> Not the blessed storm of Thor Odinson.
> This was different.
> Rotten.
> Tainted.
A storm that screamed Dormammu's name behind layers of thundercrack.
The corrupted god had arrived.
### **2. Scarlet Collapse**
Wanda hit the floor of the forge corridor hard, clutching her stomach.
Crimson runes flickered through her eyes, uncontrolled chaos magic bursting in every direction. Mystique reached her first, shielding her with a blast-proof cloak.
"She's not just seeing him anymore," Mystique hissed. "He's pierced her link to magic directly."
Sif arrived next. "The hammer — it's dragging her connection... to bring him into our reality."
Wanda gasped, her voice cracked. "He's coming through *me*…"
Suddenly, lightning shredded the skies above the carrier. But it wasn't blue. It was greenish-red. Diseased. Corrupted.
And riding that divine tide came a god with madness cored into his soul.
**Thor. But not the one they knew.**
Mjølnir, reshaped with infernal markings, dripped dark flame.
His armor cracked like dying stars.
And his voice echoed madness.
> "You kissed the fire, Jon Snow. Now burn with the storm."
### **3. The Godslayer Rises**
Jon stepped through the shattered flight deck, runes glowing down his spine.
Behind him, Daenerys hovered in flameform. Beside him came Sif, weapons drawn, hair wild with battle braid. Mystique shimmered toward the upper walkway, dual pistols blessed by Strange. Wanda floated, wavering — kept upright by Daenerys's link and sheer rage.
And Arya?
She wasn't there.
No one saw how she'd vanished. Not even Jon.
But Jon had no time to wonder.
Because black lightning hit — and Corrupted Thor landed like a shattered comet.
Jon reached for Longclaw — and the blade exploded in golden fire.
"God or not," Jon said flatly, "if Dormammu wants my flame, he can pull it from your corpse."
And then they clashed.
### **4. The War of Fire and Storm**
Jon met Thor's swing dead-on.
Mjølnir struck Longclaw with a shockwave that shattered glass across the compound's east wing. Their feet cracked the deck beneath. Magic and divine fury sprayed from their bodies in every swing.
Jon blocked another thunder-crack and spun around, slamming his elbow into the corrupted god's chin. Thor roared and countered with a spinning punch — striking Jon across the jaw and sending him crashing into flame pillars.
But Jon rose — faster.
He wasn't alone anymore.
Daenerys's voice whispered fire into the wound.
**Sif** dove across the lightning bolts, blade slicing through corrupted constructs.
**Wanda**, pulsing with unstable magic, screamed spells that split aircraft metal.
**Mystique** caught Thor's falling hammer under an illusion hex and redirected it — *barely*.
And somewhere nearby — not seen, not heard — Arya bled shadows into Thor's storm-ward.
But Jon?
Jon burned brighter now.
Stronger.
As Thor screamed once more, Jon uttered a word in pure Old Valyrian.
> "**Nuhor."**
("Return.")
A golden rune pulsed over Longclaw's hilt — and Jon leapt.
Blade through shoulder. Fire through godspark. The corrupted Thor howled.
And the storm shattered.
### **5. The Choice in the Ashes**
Thor collapsed, coughing blackened flame. His hammer thudded beside him, twitching. For a moment — the eyes that Jon had once trusted flickered again with blue.
"Free… me…" he wheezed. "I never...wanted...this…"
Jon raised his flaming sword, the golden voice of the Flame speaking inside him:
> "Strike. Now. Or I take him fully."
But Daenerys touched his hand mid-swing. "That would make you judge and executioner. Not protector."
Wanda staggered forward. "His soul is broken. I can drag it out. But I need you—now."
Jon looked down.
At a god brought low.
At the cost of flame and wrath and prophecy.
He dropped Longclaw.
"No execution. No mercy. Just *atonement.*"
He fell to his knees and pressed his palm to Thor's chest.
Together, with Wanda — they lit the corruption like parchment.
Mjølnir cracked… and shattered at Thor's side.
And the god passed out silently, free again.
### **6. Tender Flame, Fractured Heart**
Back in the sanctum, the group rested.
Wanda slept on Jon's chest, bruised by magic, sweat clinging to her neck. Sif leaned against the wall, polishing her blade in silence. Mystique watched the stars without comment. Daenerys — close, anchored, but weary — rested her hand on Jon's thigh softly.
And Arya returned.
From the shadows.
"I was in the structure," she said. "He saw me… but didn't see me."
"You almost died," Jon growled.
She sat beside him, still armored. Still apart. "I know."
He looked at each of them. Burn scars kissing Daenerys's collarbone. Wanda's exhausted chaos coils. Sif's bleeding knuckles. Mystique's silver-grazed wounds.
All for him.
"I don't want to leave another behind."
"You won't," Wanda murmured sleepily. "Because we *burn with you.*"
And Arya?
She touched his hand at last...and didn't let go.
### **7. The Flame and the Mirror**
Later that midnight, alone in the temple beneath golden rune-light, Jon approached the broken pieces of Thor's hammer.
He reached out.
And the shards flared.
Then formed something new.
**A dagger.**
Forged in godslaying fire.
He heard the Flame's voice once more.
> "You chose love over dominion. Let this gift reflect your need: not to rule… but to protect."
And carved along the blade's edge was no name.
Just a word.
> "Tegon."
("Remember.")
A reminder that gods fall.
But those who choose love?
**Endure.**