Thor's chest tightened as he watched the fire glow brighter inside the Destroyer's mask. He could feel the heat from where he stood. His hands curled into fists, but he had no weapon, no power—only his choice.
Jane's hand trembled against his arm. Her voice cracked, desperate. "Please… do something."
Thor looked at her. For the first time, her eyes weren't filled with fear of the Destroyer—they were filled with fear of losing him.
Something inside him shifted.
He stepped forward, moving past her. He walked toward the Destroyer, each step slow, steady. His voice rang out, not with arrogance, but with quiet strength:
"Brother… if you can hear me… I know this is your doing. I know I've brought this on myself. I have been foolish. I thought myself greater than I was. I was wrong."
The Destroyer paused, fire still burning in its chest, its face unreadable.
Thor spread his arms wide. His voice carried through the shattered street.
"Take me. End me if you must. But leave them. They are innocent. Their lives mean more than mine."
Jane shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "Thor, no!"
The Destroyer's mask opened wider, the blast building. For a heartbeat, everything was silent except the crackle of fire.
Then it struck.
The beam hit Thor square in the chest, an explosion of fire and force ripping down the street. The shockwave knocked Jane and the Warriors back, throwing them into the rubble.
When the dust cleared, Thor's body lay in the center of the street, burned and still. Smoke rose from the cracked pavement around him.
Jane dragged herself across the ground, pulling him into her arms. Her sobs broke the silence. "No… please… don't leave me. Not like this."
Sif's sword lowered. Even she turned her face away, unable to watch. Hogun closed his eyes, grief heavy on his features. The great Thor Odinson—fallen as a mortal.
The Destroyer turned, its fire dimming as if its task was done.
And then—
Thunder.
The sky split with sound. Clouds twisted and roared, lightning dancing through the heavens. A beam of light shone down upon Thor's body.
Far away, buried in the desert, Mjölnir shook. The ground split around it as it lifted from the earth, spinning upward in a streak of light, tearing through the storm.
Jane gasped, eyes wide. She looked down as Thor's chest rose. A breath. A spark.
The hammer slammed into his hand with a crash. Lightning exploded outward, wrapping him in power. His armor reformed in flashes of silver, his red cape flowing behind him once more.
Thor rose, taller, stronger, alive. His eyes glowed with stormlight.
Jane whispered, breathless, "Thor…"
Sif dropped her sword, a small smile breaking through her tears. "He has returned."
Back at Alex Side.
Alex's blades clashed against the frost beast's horns, sparks of ice and shadow scattering through the air. The ground trembled under their struggle, streets already split apart by the monster's charges.
Then it came—a surge like a thunderclap. Lightning tore across the sky, the storm bending as divine power roared awake.
Alex's eyes flicked upward. He saw Thor, Mjölnir spinning into his grasp, the storm answering its true master.
A faint, wry smile touched Alex's lips.
"Playtime's over," he muttered.
His aura flared. Shadows coiled around his frame as the frost beast lunged one last time. Alex's hands spread wide, and a tidal wave of darkness surged forth, wrapping around the creature like living chains.
The monster thrashed, its massive horns gouging the ground, ice storms bursting from its body as it tried to break free. But every struggle only made the shadows tighten, weaving into a cocoon that swallowed its form whole.
The street went still, the sound of the beast's roars muffled within the black shell. Then—silence.
Cracks split across the cocoon, spilling violet light. A moment later, it shattered, fragments of shadow dissolving into the air.
From within stepped the beast again—but changed. Its body was still massive, armored in darkened frost, but the madness in its eyes was gone. Instead, its gaze was steady, calm… loyal. Black flames no longer burned to consume, but shimmered faintly along its frame, marking it as bound.
The creature rumbled low, and then—astonishingly—lowered its head. It nudged Alex's side with surprising gentleness, like a war steed greeting its rider.
The Asgardians stared in disbelief. Fandral whispered, "By the gods… he tamed it?"
Alex placed one hand on the beast's horn, shadows still faintly coursing between them. His voice was quiet, resolute:
"Not beast. Not Jotun. From now on—you are mine."
The frost familiar's breath misted in the air, steam rising as the icy-black flames along its hide dimmed to a steady glow. It stood tall beside Alex, no longer raging, but waiting—watching with the patience of something bound to its master's will.
Alex exhaled slowly, his hand resting on the creature's horn before his gaze shifted down the street.
There—Thor, hammer in hand once more, met the Destroyer's blazing onslaught. Mjölnir spun, catching and dispersing the searing blast that tore across the road. Sparks and fire clashed against thunder, and for the first time, Thor did not falter. He stood with the storm itself roaring at his back.
Alex's eyes narrowed. The Destroyer was no simple construct—it was a weapon forged to erase gods, a vessel of Odin's power, but now twisted under Loki's command. Even with Thor reborn, it would not fall easily.
The frost familiar shifted its hooves, rumbling low as if eager to charge into battle. Alex ran his fingers along the creature's flank, shadows still linking them in silent command.
"Not yet," he murmured. "This is his fight."
The beast stilled, obedient under the authority that bound it.
Alex stepped forward, just enough that the sparks of Thor's battle lit his face. His expression was calm, but his eyes glowed faintly—violet and gold, light and shadow still simmering within. He could see the Destroyer's power gathering again, flames building like the breath of a collapsing star.
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