"Ahem... Is this really the end? Even after gaining Thor's power, I still couldn't complete my mission."
Captain America—Steve Rogers—fell to his knees. Mjolnir lay over ten meters away, and without it, the power of Thor faded from his body. The divine lightning dimmed, and the might of Captain Thor vanished.
A bitter smile crept across Rogers' face. Not to mention Allens—even his subordinate, Wanda—was beyond my reach. How could I possibly stand against a man as brilliant as him?
Just as despair set in, a battered figure emerged from the ruins of the quarantined zone. Thor, limping and covered in dust, trudged toward Mjolnir.
"Mjolnir… my old friend… come on, rise again."
He gripped the hammer with both hands and strained with all his divine might. But no matter how hard he pulled, Mjolnir didn't move an inch.
"Damn it! You stubborn old bastard, Odin!"
Thor's voice cracked with rage and helplessness. He fell to his knees, head tilted toward the storming sky, and roared in frustration.
Asgard.
High above the realms, in the majestic golden halls of the Odin Palace, the All-Father sat silently upon his throne. His single eye reflected the scenes unfolding in Midgard. Though he saw everything, he said nothing.
"Great God-King Odin, Father of All…"
A mocking voice broke the stillness. Standing before the throne was Allens, now disguised in the form of the trickster god Loki. Kneeling on one knee, he looked up with a faint sneer tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Are you… about to enter your slumber?"
Odin's single eye gleamed with wisdom and exhaustion. He tightened his grip on Gungnir, the Eternal Spear, and spoke gravely.
"Loki, my child. Your brother has lost his worthiness to inherit the throne. You were meant to take his place… yet now, he faces great danger. I need your help."
"Is Thor in trouble, then?" Allens asked smoothly, though his tone carried a knowing edge.
He already knew Odin's so-called "Odin Sleep" wasn't truly near—it was only a pretense. The real slumber wouldn't come until after the events of Thor: The Dark World.
Odin sighed heavily. "Loki, my son. I will soon fall into deep sleep… but I do not wish for your brother to perish in Midgard. You must bring Thor back to Asgard."
The old king's tone was weary but resolute. What had begun as a trial for his son had spiraled far beyond his control. Now, for Thor's safety, Odin entrusted Loki with the task.
"I understand," Allens replied with a faint smile. "I'll see it done."
With that, he rose to his feet. A surge of divine power shimmered around him, forming a dark green battle suit with a flowing antlered cloak. He turned sharply and strode out of the palace.
Odin watched him go, his expression unreadable. Then, in a low, cold voice, he spoke to the shadow behind him.
"Heimdall. Watch Loki closely. If he dares act against Asgard—take my spear and kill him."
The ever-loyal Heimdall stepped forward from the shadows, kneeling on one knee. Gungnir floated from Odin's grasp, suspended before him. Heimdall reached out and took the weapon, bowing deeply.
"Yes, All-Father."
In the next instant, he vanished from sight.
Outside the palace, Allens paused mid-step. He turned back, gazing at the towering golden structure of Odin's Hall. Raising one hand, he extended a single finger and tapped the air lightly.
"Heh. Let's see how this works… Time Manipulation—Time Acceleration."
A wicked grin curved across his face as ripples of temporal energy swept through the palace.
Inside, Odin's eye suddenly snapped open.
"Loki… you dare?!" His voice echoed with fury. "This power—it's time magic! Damn it, where did that fool learn it? He's accelerating the flow of time around the entire palace!"
Odin clenched his fist, releasing a surge of divine energy to resist the temporal distortion. But time magic was unlike any power of the Nine Realms—it was primal, unyielding. Even the All-Father struggled against it.
His vision blurred. His body grew heavy. The flow of time within him began to spiral out of control.
"Frigga…" he murmured weakly. "I… I'm about to fall into the Odin Sleep. Be careful…"
Streams of divine energy enveloped his body as a crystalline sarcophagus formed around him. His words faded before he could warn her further. He knew Frigga's greatest love was for Loki—and telling her now would change nothing.
Odin's eyes closed. And this time, his slumber was not by choice.
Meanwhile, on the Rainbow Bridge, Bifrost, Allens stood before Heimdall.
"Heimdall. Activate Bifrost. I need passage to Midgard."
Heimdall's golden eyes narrowed. Though he'd been ordered to kill Loki if needed, he obeyed the All-Father's last command without question. Wordlessly, he turned and opened the Bifrost.
Allens' lips curved faintly as he noticed Gungnir in Heimdall's grasp.
A single nano-sized particle detached from his armor, landing discreetly on the Bifrost control mechanism—so small that even Heimdall's all-seeing eyes couldn't detect it.
With a low hum, the bridge activated.
Boom.
Allens stepped into the torrent of light, vanishing from Asgard.
Moments later, on a deserted plain in New Mexico, glowing runes ignited on the ground. In their center stood Allens, looking up at the sky.
Though Heimdall's gaze was beyond mortal sight, Allens could feel it.
"Now's not the time to reveal myself," he murmured, eyes darkening.
His body shimmered with green light—and in the blink of an eye, he reappeared beside the fallen Mjolnir.
He looked down at Thor, battered and broken, and smirked.
"Oh, my dear brother. You really are pitiful."
Thor lifted his head weakly, eyes filled with desperate hope. "Brother… you've come to bring me home?"
"No," Allens said coldly, his expression unreadable. "I've come to reclaim Mjolnir."
The faint light in Thor's eyes went out. His face twisted with disbelief and fury.
But Allens didn't even glance at him again. He stepped forward, knelt beside the hammer, and slowly reached out his right hand—resting it on the handle of Mjolnir.
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