Thor froze for a moment, not quite understanding.
"Test?"
"That's right."
Henry pointed toward the distance, where S.H.I.E.L.D.'s temporary base glowed brightly in the desert night like a steel island.
"Your hammer is over there. S.H.I.E.L.D.—basically a bunch of government agents in black suits—have surrounded it like it's some alien artifact."
His gaze sharpened as he looked at Thor.
"Now tell me—what do you plan to do? Charge in like before, knock everyone flat, and grab your toy back? Or…"
Thor fell silent.
He remembered what Henry had told him earlier that day, and the reason his father had banished him to Earth in the first place.
Impulsive, reckless, solving everything through brute force—that was not how a true king acted.
He glanced at Jane beside him, then at Henry's steady, scrutinizing eyes.
"I think…" he said slowly, voice low, "I should try talking to them first."
Henry raised a brow. He didn't exactly approve, but still gave a deliberately approving smile.
Heh… looks like the kid is learning. He's actually thinking before swinging his hammer now!
Maybe Earth's food really does boost intelligence.
That's a good sign. The sooner Thor grows up, the sooner Henry can go check out Asgard himself—he had no interest in being a full-time life coach.
"Good," Henry nodded. "That's a start. But I should warn you—talking with those agents is way harder than fighting Frost Giants. They're experts at using bureaucracy and red tape to confuse you."
"What should I do then?" Thor asked, suddenly unsure.
"It's simple." Henry patted his shoulder, a mischievous smile curling on his lips.
"Show them your divinity."
"My… divinity?"
"Yes."
Henry leaned closer and whispered, "Remember, you're not begging—you're informing. You are Thor, Prince of Asgard, Son of Odin. You're simply here to retrieve a personal belonging you happened to drop. Your tone should be calm, your eyes disdainful, your attitude… superior. Make them feel just how ridiculous and powerless mortal rules are before a god."
"Will that really work?" Thor blinked, a little dumbfounded.
"Trust me. Against these bullies who fear the strong and prey on the weak, this works best." Henry grinned. "Go, my prince. Show these mortals what true Asgardian majesty looks like."
Thor hesitated, but seeing Henry's confident expression, he finally nodded.
He drew in a deep breath and straightened his back. The natural pride and presence of a prince returned to him, piece by piece.
Then he turned and strode toward the door with measured, regal steps.
Jane and Darcy watched his departing figure—like he was heading to his own coronation—completely bewildered.
"Henry…" Jane asked worriedly, "are you sure this is okay? He's going alone. What if it's dangerous?"
"Relax." Henry leaned back on the sofa, grabbing the last donut and speaking lazily.
"The show's just getting started."
He knew S.H.I.E.L.D. would never just let Thor take the hammer.
And Thor's peaceful "negotiation" was doomed to fail.
But that was exactly part of his plan.
Without tasting defeat—without feeling the sting of powerlessness—this prince would never truly grow, never understand what it meant to protect.
And only then could he lift the hammer again.
'Man, I really am such a thoughtful mentor.' Henry chuckled inwardly.
...
Aboard the Quinjet – Returning Flight
"Alright everyone, enough with the long faces." Tony snapped his fingers, breaking the heavy silence in the cabin.
"Our first team mission—complete success! That deserves champagne… though maybe let's wait till we're home. For now, post-mission debrief!"
He cleared his throat, slipping easily into CEO mode.
"First off—Mr. Blonsky." Tony turned toward him. "Your performance was wild, brutal, I like it. Destruction rating A+, mission completion S. But next time, try to control that adrenaline rush. The reactor blew too early—I didn't even get to record the best part. Half a month's pay deducted as punishment for ruining my cinematic shot."
Blonsky's mouth twitched, but he replied firmly, "Yes, sir."
Even with the deduction, there was no resentment.
He knew Tony's sarcasm was his way of acknowledging someone's value—and that feeling meant more than any medal.
"Next—Speedy." Tony's gaze shifted to Pietro. "Fast, efficient. Crowd control gets you an A. But!" He smirked. "You got cocky. If not for your sister covering your mistakes, you would've triggered at least two alarms. Teamwork awareness—C minus. Your punishment: wipe every window in the Malibu mansion. No powers."
"What?!" Pietro groaned in disbelief.
Wanda couldn't help a small smile.
"As for you, Miss Red." Tony's tone softened. "You exceeded expectations. Excellent control, perfect timing—especially at the end. MVP of the mission. Your reward: the newest Stark Industries tablet, loaded with every educational app, games and trending shows."
He smiled faintly. This girl was the biggest surprise of the mission.
Her potential was extraordinary. She needed proper guidance—not just training.
Looks like Henry's ridiculous 'smile therapy' actually worked a bit. Tony nodded inwardly.
"And finally, Bruce." He turned to Banner. "Great data analysis, solid backup. Double pay."
"Thanks, Tony." Banner smiled warmly.
"Alright, meeting adjourned." Tony clapped his hands. "Now… let's see what my irresponsible little brother is up to."
He gestured, and the holographic screen switched to a live satellite feed from New Mexico.
On it, Thor was striding confidently toward S.H.I.E.L.D.'s base.
"Oh-ho, this should be good." Tony raised a brow. "Is he actually planning to solo a S.H.I.E.L.D. base? What the hell did Henry tell him?"
Everyone leaned closer, curiosity piqued.
Jarvis adjusted the feed for the perfect angle, even zooming in on Thor's face—full of royal arrogance.
"Oh my god," Pietro was the first to burst out laughing. "Is he serious with that outfit? Thrift-store T-shirt and jeans? I swear, our Sokovian hobos dress better than that. And that walk—does he think he's on a runway?"
So that's the "god" Henry talked about? Doesn't look very bright…
"Don't say that," Wanda nudged him gently, eyes never leaving the screen. "If Henry trusts him, he must be special."
She was more perceptive than her brother.
Something about Thor felt off… and she couldn't shake the feeling Henry had a reason for all this.
Banner adjusted his glasses thoughtfully. "Judging from his gait and coordination, his physique is far beyond human—remarkable, even in a weakened state. S.H.I.E.L.D. might be in trouble. They're facing someone still quite capable."
Deep within Banner, the Hulk gave an impatient yawn.
Another big guy… looks fun. When's it my turn to play?
"No," Tony said, leaning back in his seat and sipping his coffee, smirking. "I'd bet anything Henry fed him a bunch of crap about 'royal demeanor' and 'divine authority.'"
Watching Thor march toward the base, Tony rolled his eyes.
That bastard ditched me to chase girls in New Mexico and left me to clean up the mess.
Now he's even directing his own drama.
Still, watching the golden-haired oaf march toward a S.H.I.E.L.D. base was pretty hilarious.
Tony sighed and smirked despite himself.
Henry always managed to stir chaos—and somehow twist it to his own advantage.
...
New Mexico – Puente Antiguo
Henry lounged under a parasol, sipping iced latte, a holographic feed from his wrist hovering before him.
The feed showed Thor's confident back as he walked toward the S.H.I.E.L.D. base.
Tsk, tsk… look at that stride, that swagger.
Henry took another sip, eyes never leaving the screen.
From this angle, it looked like Thor was marching to reclaim his throne.
A little too dramatic, maybe—but with Coulson and his bureaucratic crowd, sometimes bold stupidity worked best.
Jane and Darcy sat nearby, both holding their breath as they watched.
"He's really just walking up there?" Jane asked nervously. "They've got guns, Henry! They'll shoot!"
"Relax, Dr. Foster." Henry didn't even glance back.
"Trust me. No one on this planet has the guts to fire the first shot at someone under my protection. Those S.H.I.E.L.D. agents are probably more nervous than you."
Come on—Henry Stark, the guy who'd just killed two idiots on global live broadcast and orchestrated S.H.I.E.L.D.'s recent internal purge?
Coulson would have to be brain-dead to order open fire under his watch.
That's the power of reputation—sometimes it's sharper than any weapon.
"But what if they don't recognize Thor and think he's a terrorist?" Darcy asked softly.
"Even better," Henry shrugged casually. "Then I get to 'reason' with them. Don't worry, people love my kind of reasoning."
He took another sip of coffee.
Henry's "reasoning" was something no one wanted to experience—because he was a very nuclear kind of nice guy.
At that moment, chaos broke out at the entrance of the S.H.I.E.L.D. base.
Dozens of armed agents gathered swiftly, black gun barrels all pointed at the blond man standing before them.
The tension was like a taut string, ready to snap.
A middle-aged man in a neat suit, with a receding hairline that had clearly seen better days, pushed through the crowd and walked briskly forward.
Oh, here he comes. The main act arrives.
Henry leaned forward, eyes fixed on the screen, absently grabbing a piece of fruit Darcy handed him.
Agent Phil Coulson—Level 8 S.H.I.E.L.D. operative, Nick Fury's most loyal lapdog… no, his right-hand man.
Ah, Coulson, Coulson… this one's not my fault. Just bad luck on your part.
Coulson's expression looked calm, but inside he was anything but.
Damn it! That bastard Fury dumped another mess on me!
First a hammer fell from the sky and drew in Henry Stark, the walking disaster.
Now a Viking pirate-looking dude had just walked out of town like he came straight from a gym commercial.
He was just a Level 8 field agent—not a priest trained to exorcise supernatural nonsense!
Why did these things always land on his desk?!
He still hadn't even completed his Captain America trading card collection—just one more rare signed edition to go!
As he cursed inwardly, Coulson forced a professional, friendly smile onto his face.
"Good afternoon, sir." He stopped a few steps before Thor, maintaining a safe social distance.
"This area is a restricted government zone. For your safety, I must ask you to leave immediately."
Thor stopped walking.
He looked at the polite man in front of him and recalled what Henry had taught him about a king's bearing.
He straightened his back, raised his chin slightly, and spoke in a calm yet imperious tone.
He knew—he must look down upon these mortals!
"I am Thor, the God of Thunder, son of Odin."
His voice boomed, filled with innate majesty.
Coulson's pupils contracted slightly.
Son of Odin? What kind of edgy LARPing code phrase is that supposed to be?
"I am here to reclaim a personal belonging that was accidentally left here." Thor pointed to the hammer embedded in the crater not far away. "That hammer is mine. I will be taking it back now."
With that, he stepped forward.
"Stop!"
The surrounding agents instantly raised their guns, shouting tense warnings.
Coulson extended a hand, blocking Thor's path.
"Apologies, Mr. Thor." Though his tone remained polite, his voice carried authority now.
"That item is currently part of an ongoing classified research project. Until proper clearance is granted, no one is allowed to approach it."
Coulson sighed internally.
After all the effort S.H.I.E.L.D. had put into sealing the site and studying that mysterious hammer, did this guy really expect them to just hand it over because he said it was his?
If he actually did that, Fury would explode. The last twenty-billion-dollar cleanup bill had already earned him several days of lectures.
Thor's brows furrowed.
He hadn't expected these mortals to dare defy his will.
In Asgard, no one had ever spoken to him like this!
The fury inside him began to rise uncontrollably.
"I'll say this one more time." His voice turned low, trembling with suppressed rage.
"Move."
(T/N: 🤣 Thor turned into a Young Master)
Inside the Quinjet—
"Ha ha ha! Oh my god, I can't breathe!" Pietro burst out laughing.
"Son of Odin? Personal belongings? Does this guy think he's some fairytale prince? Look at that poor suit guy—his face is green!"
Banner chuckled. "I'll admit, this method of diplomacy is… innovative. But the success rate doesn't look promising."
Tony sipped his coffee with a look that screamed I told you so.
"See that? That's my dear brother's genius plan in action. Sending a muscle-brained jock to play 'royal superiority'—that's like sending a husky to accept a Nobel Prize. What do you expect besides chaos and drool?"
Though his mouth mocked relentlessly, Tony's mind was working fast.
Henry never did anything without purpose.
He didn't actually expect Thor to talk his way to victory.
So this was intentional—Henry wanted him angry. He wanted Thor to fail.
To experience rejection, frustration—to feel what it meant to be powerless among mortals.
That scheming bastard. Always five moves ahead.
Still, watching S.H.I.E.L.D. get humiliated was a rare treat.
"Jarvis," Tony said casually,
"Send the live footage anonymously to the Daily Bugle. Title it: 'S.H.I.E.L.D. Secret Base Exposed—Possible Alien Negotiations.' Let's give old Cyclops Fury some entertainment."
Back in the small town—
Henry watched the tense standoff on the screen and smiled in satisfaction.
Good. Phase One—collision—complete.
Now comes Phase Two—reality check.
"Looks like Thor's peaceful diplomacy didn't work out," Henry said, shrugging at Jane and Darcy.
"He's about to learn the true pain of being mortal."
As soon as the words left his mouth, the Thor on-screen lost patience.
"If you won't move, then I'll move you myself!"
He roared and charged forward, fists swinging straight into the line of agents blocking him.
A brawl erupted in an instant.
Even without his divine power, Thor's Asgardian physique was far beyond human.
He was like a tiger tearing through a flock of sheep—each punch sent agents flying, each kick dropped another man to the ground.
But no matter how strong, one man couldn't stand against dozens.
S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were trained professionals. They quickly adapted their tactics—using stun batons, high-pressure hoses, even tranquilizer guns.
"Bang!"
Thor smashed one agent aside, only to take a solid hit from a stun baton to his back, making him stumble forward in pain.
"Zzzzt!"
A jet of high-pressure water hit him square in the face, drenching him completely.
"Pff!"
A tranquilizer dart buried itself in his neck, followed by another vicious electric strike that sent waves of numbness coursing through his body.
Thor staggered, his vision blurring.
"Damn mortals…"
He tried to fight back, but more agents swarmed him, forcing him down into the muddy ground.
"Target secured! Repeat, target secured!"
Coulson finally exhaled as Thor was restrained, bound tightly, and dragged toward the interrogation room.
Wiping sweat from his forehead, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number.
"Sir, yes, it's me. We've got a situation here…"
And all of it—every second of Thor's fall—was recorded by Jarvis.
***
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