Thor pushed open the glass door of the restaurant, and warm sunlight streamed onto his broad shoulders. Jane Foster and Selvig were discussing the unusual weather data from the previous night.
"I feel very grateful—"
Thor had just turned his head to say something, but before he could finish speaking, the scene before him suddenly distorted.
The streets, pedestrians, and vehicles of New Mexico all vanished, as if wiped away from an oil painting.
The next second, his boots landed on hard bluestone.
"This is…"
Thor looked up abruptly, his pupils contracting sharply.
He stood at the center of a vast training ground, surrounded by majestic vermilion buildings adorned with upturned eaves. Between them coiled intricate patterns of purple lightning.
The sky was overcast and oppressive, blinding flashes of lightning streaking through the dark clouds. Each thunderclap sent tremors through the air.
In the distance, rows of torii gates stretched outward, seemingly reaching toward the heavens.
"There is no such place in the Nine Realms…"
Thor's muscles tensed; his fists clenched unconsciously.
Though he had lost his divine power, a thousand years of battle instinct instantly snapped him into combat readiness.
Just then—
BOOM!
A bolt of purple lightning struck the ground before the training yard, erupting in a dazzling burst of light.
As the lightning faded, space beneath a massive torii gate twisted and tore apart. A spatial rift wrapped in crackling electricity slowly unfurled.
From that portal, Thor felt an unprecedented pressure—as if every bolt of lightning in existence converged upon that single point.
His spine straightened, his muscles bulged, and beads of sweat beaded on his brow.
Tap. Tap.
The soft sound of wooden clogs against stone.
A tall woman emerged from the portal.
Her long purple hair was braided, cascading down her back, with tiny arcs of violet lightning dancing at the tips. Her fair face was as delicate as a doll's—yet radiated an unapproachable majesty.
Almond-shaped eyes gleamed with a faint purple light, her pupils swirling with storm and thunder.
She wore a deep purple kimono embroidered with thunder motifs. Its wide sleeves fluttered without wind, and the ornate sash at her waist sporadically sparked with dangerous arcs of electricity.
With every step she took, purple lightning formed staircases beneath her feet, allowing her to walk through the air like a deity surveying her domain.
Under the crushing weight of her presence, Thor gritted his teeth and growled:
"Who are you? Where is this place?"
The woman halted a hundred paces away, her sleeves rippling with static energy.
"My name is Raiden Ei," she said, her voice cool and calm yet resonant with undeniable power, "the Thunder God who governs the Seven Realms."
"This is the Pure Land of Single-Minded Purity—the manifestation of my will."
"Thor?"
Thor froze for a heartbeat—then fury surged through him.
"Absurd!" he roared. "I am the only Thunder God in the Nine Realms—"
"Thor Odinson, prince of Asgard," she interrupted, her gaze sweeping over his tattered, mortal clothes. "Your lingering in this realm will bring only calamity. Return to your divine domain at once."
"I long to return more than anyone!" Thor shouted. "But Mjolnir was left on Earth—and without it, I cannot—"
"I see."
A faint, almost imperceptible sneer curled her lips.
"That hammer is Thor. And you… are nothing but a remnant clinging to a divine weapon."
"Shut up!!!"
Thor's roar split the thunder. His golden hair stood on end like a lion's mane as he bellowed:
"The dignity of Asgard shall not be desecrated! In the name of Thor—I challenge you to a duel!"
Upon hearing this, Raiden chuckled softly. That laughter carried a mockery as cold as a thousand-year-old glaze:
"Dignity? The dignity you speak of is nothing more than luck—accidentally born in the womb of the goddess."
She stepped forward, her clothes fluttering though no wind blew, and continued:
"A puppet whose divine status is propped up by external objects dares to call himself the Lord of Thunder?"
Thor's lips curled slightly. With a gentle wave of his wide sleeve, dozens of purple lightning bolts fell like meteors, transforming into an array of warhammers that circled him.
There were spiked maces, square-headed hammers engraved with ancient runes, chain-wrapped meteor hammers, and even a double-edged short hammer strikingly similar to Mjölnir.
"As fellow wielders of thunder, I grant you a duel before the emperor. I shall suppress my power to match yours—pure fairness."
She gestured calmly toward the floating weapons. "Choose the one you are most skilled with."
Thor's gaze swept over the arsenal, then settled on the short hammer that most resembled Mjölnir. The handle was icy to the touch, yet it resonated with him instantly. The hammerhead pulsed faintly with purple lightning.
"Now, begin—"
Before Raiden could finish, Thor had already launched himself forward like a cannonball. He leapt high into the air, his warhammer crashing downward with a whooshing roar.
This strike contained every technique forged through millennia of war—enough, even without divine power, to cleave a mountain in two.
"Too slow."
Raiden's figure blurred. Thor's hammer struck only an afterimage, blasting a crater three meters wide into the earth.
Boom—!
Before Thor could recover, a chill raced down his spine. Raiden had already appeared behind him, her fingertips grazing the nape of his neck.
"Drink it!"
Thor roared, spinning mid-air. His hammer carved a perfect arc toward her.
Raiden leaned back just slightly—the hammer's edge grazed her nose. In one fluid motion, she seized his wrist and slammed him to the ground with a clean, over-the-shoulder throw.
Bang—!
"You'd be better suited to be a construction worker than Thor," she remarked, effortlessly sidestepping his sweeping leg kick.
"Ahhh—!"
Thor rolled to his feet and unleashed a barrage of hammer strikes. Each swing crackled with thunderous force—yet not once did it so much as brush the hem of Raiden's purple kimono.
Her movements flowed like a dancer's, each evasion precise to the millimeter, her sleeves leaving trails of shimmering afterimages in the air.
"All you can do is hide?!" Thor bellowed, his hammer strikes weaving a net of shadows meant to trap her.
Crunch—
Raiden finally raised a hand. Her palm met the hammerhead squarely. A sickening metallic groan echoed as the weapon warped under the pressure of her single hand.
Thor's pupils contracted. Instinctively, he released the hammer and leapt back.
But Raiden was faster. She lunged forward, delivering a sharp chop to his elbow.
Thump—!
Excruciating pain shot through his arm, paralyzing it instantly. A follow-up strike to his knee forced him to one knee, staggering.
Raiden stood three paces away, her purple kimono untouched, as though she'd never left her place.
She looked down at the trembling god and spoke coldly:
"Even unarmed, I am still the embodiment of thunder."
Without that hammer? You are nothing.
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