Jane Foster's Temporary Research Station
Dr. Erik Selvig sat in the small living area, watching Thor and Jane work together in the kitchenette with barely concealed bewilderment. Last night, he'd pulled Thor aside and explicitly warned him not to hurt Jane—don't get her hopes up, don't lead her on, don't complicate an already chaotic situation.
That conversation had happened maybe twelve hours ago.
Now they moved around each other with the comfortable synchronization of people who'd known each other for months rather than days. Thor handed Jane ingredients without being asked. Jane anticipated what Thor needed before he reached for it. They were making breakfast together like a couple in a comfortable long-term relationship.
How does this even happen? Erik wondered. Did I fall asleep for three months instead of one night?
Darcy Lewis sat at the small dining table, laptop open, practically vibrating with excitement. "Guys! Everyone! My dream might not have been a dream!" Her voice carried across the cramped space. "I found evidence!"
Erik turned toward her, grateful for any distraction from the domestic scene unfolding in the kitchen. "What kind of evidence?"
"About the Dragon Balls!" Darcy spun her laptop around, showing the screen to everyone. "Look at this. There are hundreds—maybe thousands—of posts online about people trying to buy Dragon Balls. Different platforms, different countries, all searching for the same thing."
She scrolled rapidly through forum posts, auction listings, dark web marketplaces. "And check this out—someone on the dark web is offering one hundred million dollars for a complete set. One hundred million!"
Jane abandoned the breakfast preparations and moved closer, peering at the screen. "That's... that's insane. Why would anyone pay that much for what should be worthless collector's items?"
Erik joined them, squinting at the laptop display. His scientific skepticism warred with the sheer volume of evidence. "This is extraordinary. Such a high purchase price suggests either mass delusion or..." He trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
"Or they're real," Darcy finished for him. "Otherwise, why would rational people with serious money be desperately searching for them?"
Jane turned to Darcy with sudden realization. "Wait. How much did you sell your Dragon Ball for again?"
Darcy's expression shifted from excitement to mortification. "Five hundred dollars," she said in a small voice.
Jane winced sympathetically. "Oh, Darcy..."
"I thought I was being so clever!" Darcy's voice rose defensively. "I found a weird orange ball with stars on it, and some weirdo on eBay gave me five hundred bucks for it! That seemed like a great deal at the time!"
"You sold a potential hundred-million-dollar artifact for five hundred dollars," Erik said, not unkindly. "That's... unfortunate."
Thor had been listening quietly, but now he stepped forward with intense focus. "These Dragon Balls—can they truly grant any wish? Any wish at all?"
Darcy shrugged. "According to the information I've been receiving—and there's a lot of it, from a lot of different sources—if you collect all seven Dragon Balls, you can summon a dragon called Shenron. And Shenron can supposedly grant any wish you make."
"Shenron," Thor repeated slowly, testing the name. "A wish-granting dragon..."
"Can you show me what these Dragon Balls look like?"
Darcy navigated to an image search, pulling up a reference photo. Seven orange spheres sat arranged in a circle, each containing a different number of red stars—one through seven.
"This is what they look like. Seven balls total, each marked with stars corresponding to their number. You need all seven to summon the dragon."
Thor stared at the image with the intensity of a drowning man spotting a lifeline. If these Dragon Balls truly exist, if this Shenron can grant any wish...
"I could wish for Father's resurrection," Thor murmured, speaking more to himself than the others. "If what Loki said is true, if Father truly died because of my actions, then this Shenron could bring him back."
Jane shook her head, bringing practical reality back into focus. "Thor, let's be realistic here. Even if the Dragon Balls are real—which is a massive 'if'—they're scattered who-knows-where. Finding all seven would be nearly impossible."
She gestured at Darcy's laptop. "And according to these listings, people are offering hundred million dollars for a complete set. None of us have that kind of money. I can barely afford to replace my confiscated research equipment."
Jane's scientific training reasserted itself. "Plus, think about it logically. If these Dragon Balls really could grant any wish, wouldn't they cost more than one hundred million? World leaders would be fighting wars over them. Billionaires would empty their fortunes. The price alone suggests they're probably not real."
"And another thing," Jane continued, warming to her argument. "If a literal wish-granting dragon existed, why would everything be so quiet? Where are the news reports of impossible wishes coming true? Where's the chaos from people fighting over reality-altering power?"
Darcy interrupted quietly. "Jane, remember the worldwide darkness that we witness?"
The room fell silent.
They'd all experienced it—the entire planet plunging into absolute darkness for several hours, with no scientific explanation. Jane had been investigating it as a potential atmospheric phenomenon, but every conventional theory had fallen apart under scrutiny.
"You think..." Erik started, then stopped. "No. That's too coincidental."
"Is it though?" Darcy's eyes were wide. "What if someone made a wish that somehow caused that? What if that was proof the Dragon Balls are real, and we just didn't recognize it?"
Jane ran a hand through her hair, frustrated. "Let's table the Dragon Ball discussion for now. We have more immediate concerns." She pulled out her notebook, the one Coulson's agents hadn't confiscated only because she'd been carrying it. "Thor gave me a completely new framework for understanding the atmospheric phenomena. I want to share it with you."
She began outlining Thor's explanations—the Bifrost as an Einstein-Rosen bridge, the Nine Realms as parallel dimensions connected through quantum entanglement, Yggdrasil as a metaphorical representation of cosmic structure.
Dr. Erik listened with growing concern. "Jane, these concepts are fascinating from a theoretical standpoint. But you don't have any empirical evidence. No data, no measurements, no reproducible experiments." He spoke gently, trying not to crush her enthusiasm. "Without evidence, it's just mythology dressed up in physics terminology. No peer reviewer will take it seriously."
But Thor barely heard the scientific discussion. His mind churned with possibilities and plans.
Are the Dragon Balls real? How can I locate all seven? Does this Shenron truly have the power to resurrect the dead—even an Asgardian king?
The questions multiplied. Father has lived for thousands of years and conquered the Nine Realms. If Midgard possessed such incredible artifacts, why didn't he claim them? Why didn't he mention them? Why didn't—
A sharp knock at the door interrupted his spiraling thoughts.
Then a familiar voice called out—impossible, but unmistakable. "Thor! Are you in there?"
Thor spun toward the door, his face transforming from confusion to shocked joy. Through the window, he could see four figures in full Asgardian armor, completely out of place in the New Mexico desert.
Jane, Darcy, and Erik froze, staring at the newcomers. Darcy's coffee cup slipped from her fingers and shattered on the floor.
Thor rushed to the door and yanked it open. "My friends! This is wonderful! Incredible!" He pulled the visitors into bone-crushing embraces, laughing with pure delight.
Erik stood slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. "This can't be real. I'm hallucinating. Jane, please tell me you're seeing this too."
"I'm seeing it," Jane confirmed faintly. "I'm just not sure I'm believing it."
After cycling through enthusiastic greetings—Volstagg nearly crushing Thor in return, Fandral's elaborate bow, Hogun's solemn nod, Sif's fierce warrior's clasp—Thor turned to introduce his Midgardian friends.
"Everyone, these are my companions from Asgard. The Lady Sif, warrior without equal." Sif inclined her head regally. "And the Warriors Three—Volstagg the Voluminous, Fandral the Dashing, and Hogun the Grim."
The warriors nodded in turn, their armor gleaming incongruously in the shabby research station.
Thor's expression shifted from joy to confusion. "But why are you here? You know I cannot return home. I'm exiled, permanently. Father is..." His voice cracked. "Father died because of my arrogance. Mother cannot bear to see me. I must remain on Midgard."
His eyes brightened suddenly. "Though perhaps the Dragon Balls can help! These Midgardians speak of magical artifacts that can resurrect the dead! If we can find all seven—"
Hogun interrupted, his perpetually serious face looking even more grave. "Thor, we came to bring you home."
"I just explained—"
"Your father lives," Sif cut in, her voice sharp and certain. "King Odin is alive, Thor. He did not die."
The words hit Thor like a physical blow. He stood completely still, processing, then understanding flooded in.
"Loki," he said flatly. "My brother lied to me."
Anger flashed across his face—not the explosive rage he'd shown before his banishment, but something colder and more contained. Loki's tricks had been amusing when they were children, clever mischief among brothers. But using their father's death as a manipulation tool? That crossed a line.
Yet beneath the anger, relief and hope surged. If Father lived, then Thor hadn't killed him. The guilt crushing his chest eased slightly.
And if the Dragon Balls were real...
"This is excellent news," Thor said, his strategic mind already working. "Father lives, which means my exile might not be permanent. And the Dragon Balls..." His smile grew determined. "I can wish for my power to be restored with Shenron. For the enchantment binding me to be broken. Then I can return to Asgard with my strength intact, worthy of Father's forgiveness."
The Warriors Three exchanged confused glances.
Sif stepped forward, her warrior's instincts sensing something wrong with Thor's reasoning. "Thor, what is this 'Shenron' you keep mentioning? What dragon? Why are you talking about making wishes to it?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Writing takes time, coffee, and a lot of love.If you'd like to support my work, join me at [email protected]/GoldenGaruda
You'll get early access to over 50 chapters, selection on new series, and the satisfaction of knowing your support directly fuels more stories.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~