Early the next morning, a stretch limo pulled up at Maguire's door—Harry's family's Lincoln.
After saying goodbye to Uncle Ben and Aunt May, Maguire got in.
Harry glanced at him. "It's been forever since we took a trip, Maguire."
That tugged at Maguire a little. He'd already been in this world for half a year now—either fighting, or on the way to a fight. This time they were still heading out because of a villain-related matter in Mexico. Honestly, he wasn't worried: the bad guy only had a single suit of Destroyer Armor. The Bully Points Maguire could harvest off one suit wouldn't be huge.
He didn't yet know this trip wouldn't be as simple as he imagined.
They drove straight to Garfield's place. Holland and the others had already gone on ahead to Garfield's home, so Maguire and Harry pulled up to the door. Garfield and the rest were waiting there. Seeing the long limo, the group couldn't help cheering.
"So that's why Garfield said there was someone he wanted to invite," someone joked. "Turns out it's her—Hannah, the girl always hanging around the basketball court."
They piled into the car, then boarded the Osborn family's private jet and flew toward Mexico.
That afternoon, they reached a small town called Rosa. On the outskirts was a road touted as the most beautiful drive in Mexico—grasslands stretching on either side thanks to the terrain, drawing tourists and making the town lively and prosperous.
Two nights earlier, something strange had happened near the town. The sky had been packed with thunderclouds, lightning booming. A massive bolt dropped straight from the heavens and struck the ground, blowing out a giant crater. Lying at the center was a hammer.
Weirder still, no one could lift it. Even trucks couldn't drag it an inch.
Now, a few big SUVs were parked along the street—Maguire's group, here to sightsee. Garfield, the foodie, eyed the others. "Since we're in Mexico, we have to try the chicken tacos—see if they beat the ones back home."
Everyone agreed and headed to a restaurant in town. It wasn't a mealtime rush, so there were only a few tables occupied. They found seats and were about to order when the smash of a glass rang out. Then came a voice—overwrought, dramatic.
They looked over. A tall, broad-shouldered blond man stood there, eyes bright with excitement. Big frame, medium-length gold hair, a scruffy beard—gotta admit, the guy looked like he'd walked out of a saga.
"Sorry," someone nearby said quickly, "we're from the States. We have nothing to do with whatever 'Asgard' you're talking about."
Maguire felt a headache coming on. Could this not be so coincidental? He'd wanted two days to relax, and now this idiot shows up. Fine—ignore him for now.
Garfield and the others took one look and didn't comment. But the blond had already noticed Maguire's group and, for some reason, felt an odd sense of closeness when his eyes landed on Maguire. He kept glancing over.
Opposite him stood a tall, sharp-featured woman—physicist Jane Foster—along with her assistant, Darcy Lewis.
Jane studied the puzzled blond. "What is it? Something wrong?"
The blunt blond blurted out, "That man over there feels…familiar. Could he be my brother Loki in disguise?"
Jane and Darcy were speechless. This guy's head clearly hadn't recovered—still acting like he was Thor.
Hot-tempered as ever, the blond stood and strode toward Maguire's table. Jane and Darcy hurried after him.
He stopped in front of them, looking Maguire up and down. Maguire frowned. Garfield and the others stared, baffled.
The blond spoke first. "It's you, isn't it—Loki. My brother. Don't think changing your appearance can fool me. How is our father, Odin?"
Jane and Darcy rushed to explain to Maguire's group, "Sorry—our friend suffered a head injury. He's not quite himself."
The blond shook them off and leaned toward Maguire again.
Maguire sighed inwardly. What was this? Mistaking him for Loki now? Because of Devil Fruit resonance or something? No way.
Out loud he said, "I'm not Loki."
The blond shook his head. "No. Even if you're not Loki, I've seen you before. You're familiar. Are you a child of Asgard?"
Before Maguire could answer, Garfield and the others cut in, explaining they were just tourists from the U.S.
The blond could only nod helplessly and turn away.
Just then, a stunning figure stepped through the door. "Hot" didn't even begin to cover it—more like out-of-this-world. A mane of long, flame-red hair streamed behind her.
In Maguire's head, a line of song rose up unbidden: mountains upon mountains, ranges linked end to end. And for a moment, that was all he could think about.
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