Loki hadn't expected to be suddenly surrounded—and Loren hadn't expected to run into Loki at this exact moment, either.
Good heavens. This is the third prince of Asgard!
Though not Odin's biological son, Loki held noble status equal to any royal and possessed countless treasures. Thor's hammer, Mjölnir, was enchanted by Odin himself—there was no way he could lift it. Still, he'd decided to test his luck.
Who knew that before he even got close to the hammer, he'd run straight into Loki? His timing couldn't have been worse.
"Who are you?" Loki demanded, eyes narrowing. "More of that bald sorcerer's henchmen?"
He smirked, puffing out his chest. "Let me tell you—you've met your match today. Do you even know who I am? I am Loki, the new King of Asgard! I am a god!!!"
He taunted Loren's five wives with supreme arrogance, as if desperate to announce his divine heritage to the entire planet.
But before his words even finished echoing, 2B grabbed one of his ankles and slammed him into the ground like a salted fish.
In the blink of an eye, the so-called god lay motionless, eyes wide with disbelief.
"What a weak god," 2B said coolly, brushing her hands together with a look of utter disdain.
Watching from the side, Loren couldn't help but chuckle. Goodness—this is an iconic scene unfolding ahead of schedule!
Only now, instead of the Hulk, it was 2B delivering the beatdown.
Loki had never imagined his first visit to Midgard would go so poorly. He was the second prince of Asgard, for Odin's sake!
Just seconds ago, he'd been hurled through an infinite void by some bald mage—tumbling for what felt like an hour—only to emerge and get floored by a silver-haired woman before he could even catch his breath.
What a disgrace! He'd never been bullied like this in his entire life. Unthinkable!
"You lowly ants—how dare you disrespect me? You're all dead! I'll kill every last one of you—Ah!!"
Still sprawled on the ground, Loki continued shouting, clinging to his divine pride like a lifeline.
But this time, before he could finish his sentence, Mary Rose seized him from behind, locked her arms around his waist, and executed her signature move: Waist-Over-Back Throw.
The impact rivaled 2B's "Fish Slam." One moment Loki was screaming threats—the next, he was unconscious.
Even so, Mary Rose wasn't done. She shifted her stance, readying her next technique—Crow Takes Flight—and, to everyone's alarm, her body began crystallizing into diamond.
If that strike landed, Loki wouldn't just be bruised—he'd be filing a complaint with Mephisto himself.
"Stop! Stop!" Loren rushed forward and grabbed Mary Rose's arm. "This guy's useful. His adoptive father is Odin, King of the Aesir. Their vaults are packed with artifacts and treasures."
"Odin? The King of Gods?" the women gasped in unison. "Boss, is he really a god?"
"From a mythological perspective, yes—they're gods," Loren said, folding his arms. "Scientifically? They're just extremely advanced aliens. But that's beside the point. What matters is that Loki plays a key role in the future timeline… and I plan to profit from him."
"Right!" one of the wives declared. "He's so arrogant—it's infuriating. Let's take him back and teach him some humility. The boss's authority isn't to be mocked!"
"Now that we've found him," another added, "we can't just let him go. Temporary custody it is."
With that settled, Loren turned toward Thor's hammer lying nearby.
"Boss, is that really Mjölnir?" 2B asked, squinting at it. "It doesn't look special at all."
"Yeah," another chimed in. "The handle's so short—it's barely usable for hammering nails! Is this thing actually magical?"
"You can't judge a weapon by its appearance," Loren explained. "This hammer channels the raw power of thunder itself. Legend says only those deemed worthy—those with pure hearts—can lift it. And once they do, they're granted its blessings: command over lightning, flight, even the strength to split the earth."
"Wait… so it's like a purity test?" someone asked, eyes lighting up.
"Exactly," Loren nodded. "Who wants to try? If you lift it, your power level could jump to the next tier."
"I'm in!" The Commander stepped forward, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. She gripped the hammer's handle and pulled with all her might.
But nothing happened.
The hammer didn't budge—not even a millimeter.
"I refuse to believe this!" The Commander gritted her teeth, rolled up her sleeves, and grabbed the handle with both hands, muscles straining. She unleashed a full 100-ton pull—enough to wrestle the Hulk to a standstill—but Mjölnir remained rooted like a mountain.
She finally gave up, panting. Loren had warned her this might happen, so she accepted defeat gracefully.
"Commander," one of her sisters teased, grinning, "guess you're not so pure-hearted after all! All you think about is sneaking into the boss's room to 'research' new positions, huh?"
The Commander didn't flinch. She crossed her arms and smirked. "So what if I do? I'm pioneering new tactical formations. Got a problem with that? If you're so pure, why don't you lift the damn hammer?"
"Fine! Watch me!" 2B stepped up, snatched the handle from the Commander, and yanked.
Her expression shifted instantly—confusion, then frustration. No matter how hard she pulled, the hammer refused to move.
"Still laughing?" she muttered, cheeks flushed. "Go ahead. Bet you've got nothing but lollipops on your mind anyway."
"...Okay, fine," 2B admitted, lowering her head. "I do think about lollipops. A lot."
One by one, the others tried—and failed.
As the old saying goes: birds of a feather flock together. When one sister's mind wanders toward questionable fantasies, chances are the rest aren't far behind.
"Ugh, you've all disappointed me," Loren sighed dramatically, striding forward with an air of smug superiority. "Looks like I'll have to handle this myself."
He reached for the hammer, already imagining the thunderous power surging through him—
—but the moment his fingers brushed the handle, dark clouds swirled overhead.
A deafening crack split the sky.
ZAP!
A bolt of lightning struck him squar
e in the chest.
"HOLY SHIT, YOU SON OF A—@#￥%...&" Loren screamed, smoke rising from his singed hair.
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