The crisp chime of the system's prompt echoed in Luke's mind, and for a moment, he froze.
Sure, he'd already guessed that meeting Odin would net him a couple of plot points. But what he hadn't anticipated, and honestly blindsided him, was the sheer payout from preventing Frigga's death.
Five whole points.
To put that in perspective, the Battle of New York, the literal alien invasion, had only bagged him five points.
And now, the system's explanation scrolled in front of his eyes, almost smugly spelling it out: altering the course of a major plotline could yield just as many points as participating in it.
Luke leaned back ever so slightly, the realization hitting him like a lightning bolt. All this time, he'd been chasing the plot like a spectator desperate to get into the game. Now, he could rewrite it. Bend it. Maybe even break it if he wanted to as long as he didn't prevent it altogether.
He realized that in order to get the most benefits, he first needed all the players in place before he could change the plot to his liking.
And the points… the points would roll in faster than he'd ever dreamed.
For a second, he couldn't help but grin. He'd just stumbled onto a gold mine.
…
The room they stood in felt a bit crowded, too crowded for comfort.
On one side: Odin, Frigga, and Thor. Regal, imposing, and watching him with various shades of suspicion and confusion.
On the other: Luke, Wanda, and Sharon. A mismatched trio that somehow looked completely at ease despite standing in the heart of the most fortified palace in the Nine Realms.
The air was thick with unspoken questions, tension coiling between the two groups. The awkwardness was palpable, but Thor seemed to be carrying the heaviest burden.
He'd never been particularly close with Luke. Their last encounter had gone, well, decently enough, but it hadn't exactly forged any lasting bond. Now, faced with Luke's sudden and unexplained arrival in Asgard, he felt an odd discomfort gnawing at him.
Most baffling of all was how they'd gotten here. The Bifröst hadn't been used, of that he was certain.
Before Thor could ask, Odin's voice cut through the silence.
The All-Father took a single step forward and brought the butt of Gungnir down against the marble floor. The strike echoed through the chamber like a clap of thunder, his voice following with the same weight.
"Who are you," Odin demanded, his tone cold and edged, "and what is your purpose in my palace?"
Thor flinched ever so slightly and stepped back, the instinctive pull to avoid being caught in his father's line of fire overriding his curiosity. He didn't know why Luke was here, and frankly, he wasn't sure he wanted to find out if it meant standing between him and Odin.
Wanda and Sharon, however, reacted very differently.
The moment Odin's authoritative words filled the room, both women stiffened. They didn't care if he was the God-King of Asgard or the All-Father of legends. The way he spoke to them? That tone? That was asking for trouble.
Their power stirred instinctively, Wanda's crimson energy flickering faintly at her fingertips, Sharon's stance shifting almost imperceptibly as if preparing to draw her weapon.
But when they glanced at Luke, their hands stilled.
He wasn't tense, didn't even appear worried. He stood there casually, arms crossed, a faint smile tugging at his lips like this was all just an amusing diversion.
…
Odin had not expected his queen's voice to be the one to cut through the tension.
"Enough, Odin."
Frigga's tone was firm, her gaze unwavering as she turned to her husband. "They are not our enemies. They saved me."
The words hung in the air like a sudden change in wind direction. Odin's brows furrowed, his expression tightening.
"They saved you?" he repeated, skeptical.
Frigga nodded toward the kursed warrior still suspended in Wanda's power. "He was moments away from striking me down. They arrived just in time."
Her voice carried no hesitation, no doubt. And yet she could feel the wariness radiating from both her husband and son. They looked at the three strangers as though they were a storm waiting to break, too dangerous and unpredictable to take lightly.
She, however, found them just peculiar. Certainly powerful. But not at all malicious.
Luke finally broke the silence, not to explain, not even to address Odin, but to speak directly to Wanda and Sharon as though the Asgardian royal family were little more than bystanders.
"Alright, let's head back," he said lightly, as if they'd just finished a casual sightseeing tour. "I'll bring you here again to play when we have more time."
He was practically glowing with satisfaction. Eight plot points in a single trip, a successful long distance test of his new spatial mutation abilities, and the personal satisfaction of saving Frigga, one of the few characters he'd genuinely liked in his past life's movies.
With his mission accomplished, there was no reason to linger.
But Odin's eye narrowed at the blatant disregard. Gratitude or not, this mortal, if he even was a mortal, was treating him like an afterthought.
And the implication in Luke's words… coming and going as they pleased? In his palace? Without so much as a by-your-leave?
It was an insult. One he would not let slide.
"Guards!" Odin's voice cracked like a whip. "Seize them!"
…
A dozen armored warriors surged into the room.
Frigga's heart skipped a beat. "Odin, wait…" she tried to stop him, urgency lacing her voice. She didn't just want to avoid unnecessary violence; she had felt their power firsthand. If provoked, these three could very well become enemies that even Asgard would struggle to contain.
Luke didn't so much as flinch. The guards were almost upon them when he raised a hand lazily, as though brushing away a speck of dust.
A ripple shimmered in the air beside them, distorting reality like heat waves over sand.
In the blink of an eye, the trio's forms blurred, faded, and vanished entirely, leaving behind nothing but the faint echo of their presence.
The guards froze mid-stride, their quarry gone without so much as a trace.
Odin's breath caught. His palace was warded against such intrusions, against any kind of spatial magic. Yet they had not only entered freely… they had also left in the same way.
It was as if the rules of the realm didn't apply to them at all.
Frigga's gaze fell on something glinting near where Luke had stood. She stepped forward quickly, kneeling to pick it up.
The object was small, bright, and strangely out of place, an orange candy. There were more scattered on the floor, gleaming like tiny pieces of glass.
She turned it over in her hand, rubbed it with her thumb, then brought the part that hadn't touched the floor to her lips and tasted it.
Sweet and citrusy, definitely orange-flavored candy.
But she was certain she'd seen that same object moments earlier as a real blade. Just how…?
She shook her head. Magic could be strange, but this, this was far stranger.
Her thoughts were cut short as the kursed warrior, freed from Wanda's grip, lunged forward with a roar.
He raised the sword in his hands, but when he swung at a guard, the weapon bent with a comical squeak, it was still the bright green plastic toy sword.
Snarling, he tossed it aside and attacked barehanded. The guards, despite being armed, struggled to withstand his onslaught.
Thor and Odin were forced to join the fray.
And then the palace began to shake.
It wasn't the subtle tremor of distant battle. This was deep, violent stone groaning as if the very bones of the structure were giving way. The ceiling cracked, sending down a spray of dust and debris.
Odin froze mid-swing, his single eye widening. The scene was horribly, unmistakably familiar.
The last time this happened, the whole palace had come down on top of him.
Back then, he'd blamed it on the old structure after being unable to find any other explanation.
But this time? There was no excuse. The palace was newly built, and he'd personally ensured it would be practically indestructible.
And yet…
Odin could only stare upward as his nightmare returned.
…