Chapter 63

  Arc 5 - Ch 16: The Rainbe

  Date: Friday, June 3, 2011.

  Location: Asgard

  The brothers crashed through the Observatory dome, nding on the Rainbe. Thained his footing first. But as he rose, he saw Loki, hanging precariously from the edge of the bridge. Loki's fingers desperately held to the smooth, gssy surface.

  "Thor! Help me!" Loki's voice was tinged with a note of desperation.

  Thor's face held a resigned as he approached the edge of the bridge. He ko grasp his brother's wrist. But as his fingers closed around Loki's arm, his hand passed through the trickster's image.

  At that moment, Thor realized the truth. The Loki hanging from the bridge was nothing more than an illusion, a cruel trick desigo catch him off guard. And even as the realization dawned, he heard the telltale shimmer of magic behind him, the sound of his true adversary materializing out of thin air.

  Thor whirled around, his instincts screaming at him to defend himself, but he was a heartbeat too slow. Loki, the real Loki, lunged forward with Gungnir clutched in his hands. The bde sank deep into Thor's chest, pierg through armor and flesh with siing ease.

  Thor let out a roar of pain and rage as Loki lifted him into the air, his body impaled on the spear like a grotesque trophy. With a cruel, almost casual flick of his wrist, Loki sent Thor flying across the bridge, his wounded form crashing to the iridest surface.

  Thor, his chest heaving with the effort of drawing breath, struggled to rise to his khe wound in his chest was deep, a gaping hole that pulsed with each bored beat of his heart, but still he refused to yield, his eyes bzing with the unquenchable fire of a true warrior.

  To Thor's dismay more Lokis began to appear, eae a duplicate of the st, their faces twisted into identical sneers of cruel amusement.

  Thor, his strength failing, his vision blurring with pain and exhaustion, swung his hammer again and again, each blow passing harmlessly through the illusions that surrounded him. It was a futile effort, a desperate stand against ahat seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at once.

  The illusions of Loki closed in around him, eae brandishing Gungnir with a look of vicious triumph, their ughter ringing in his ears like the tolling of a funeral bell.

  "I was always more clever than you," the Lokis taunted in unison, their voices blending into a discordant chorus of mockery and s. They circled Thor like a pack of wolves.

  But Thor refused to be cowed. He raised his head to meet his braze, his voice ringing out with unshakable vi. "Yet still not clever enough," he decred, his words carrying a promise of retributioo e.

  And with that, Thor raised Mjh into the air. The sky above the bridge began to , the clouds parting to reveal a maelstrom of lightning and thunder. With a roar, Thor summohe full might of the tempest. Mjolnir acted as a duit for the raw, primal energy of the heavens. A massive bolt of lightning struck from the sky, theed from the hammer's head, brang out into a dazzling web of electricity that arced and crackled through the air around the god of thunder.

  Strands of lightning found their mark, striking the illusions of Loki that surrouhor and shattering them into nothingness. The duplicates vanished in a bze of blinding light, their forms dissolving until only one figure remained.

  The force of the lightni Loki flying backward, his body crashing to the surface of the bridge. Gungnir, the mighty spear of Odin, was knocked from his grasp, skittering away across the iridest surface like a discarded toy.

  Thor, his chest heaving with the effort of his exertion, staggered to his feet and approached his fallen brother, his eyes bzing with a mixture of anger and pity.

  Loki flinched away from Thor expeg the worst.

  But to Loki's surprise, Thor simply pced Mjolnir on his chest and stepped away. He had no desire to inflict further harm upon his brother, no matter how deep the betrayal had cut.

  Loki attempted to rise, his limbs shaking with the effort. But he found himself pinned in pce, his body held fast by an immovable weight upon his chest. Mjolnir's entment re impossible for any but the worthy to lift. Loki could only lie there, trapped and helpless, as Thor turned away.

  As Loki struggled futilely against the immovable weight of Mjolnir, Thor turned his attention toward the dire situation unfolding around them. The Bifrost, now fully activated, was firing a powerful beam of energy directly into Jotunheim, the icy realm of the Frost Giants. The bridge beh their feet vibrated with the force of the energy surge, the colors of the rainbow pulsing and shifting in a dizzying kaleidoscope of light.

  Thor's eyes widened with growing arm as he watched the beam intensify. He khe catastrophisequehat would follow if he failed to act, the destru that would be unleashed upon Jotunheim if the Bifrost was allowed to run unchecked.

  In stark trast to Thor's mounting , Loki watched the unfolding se with a smug, almost satisfied expression. Pio the ground by the ented hammer, uo move or intervene, he seemed tent to observe the fruits of his bors, the culmination of his schemes and maations. His green eyes followed Thor's every move, a glint of malicious amusement dang in their depths as he watched his brrapple with the impossible dilemma before him.

  "Look at you, the Mighty Thor," Loki taunted, his voice dripping with mockery and disdain. "With all your strength, what good does it do you now, huh?"

  The words struck at the heart of Thor's predit, a bitter reminder of his helplessness in the face of the impending catastrophe. Despite his immense power, and his unrivaled prowess in battle, he felt utterly powerless to halt the of events that Loki had set in motion. The Bifrost tio el its destructive energy into the Observatory.

  "Do you hear me, Brother? There's nothing you do!" Loki decred, ceasing his struggles entirely.

  But as Thor looked down at the Rainbe beh his feet, its surface shimmering and unduting with the force of the Bifrost's power, a sudden realization dawned upon him. His eyes widened with a mixture of uanding and grim determination as he grasped the only course of a left to him. A sacrifice that would ge the fate of worlds, but at a cost almost too great to bear.

  With a heavy heart, Thor extended his hand towards Loki, summoning Mjolnir back to his grasp. The ented hammer flew obediently to his outstretched palm.

  Loki sat up, staring at his brother in fusion, uo prehend why he'd been released.

  Thor raised Mjh above his head, his eyes fixed upoumultuous sky above. Lightning danced and arced around the hammer's head. And then, with a decisive motion that seemed to split the very heavens themselves, Thht Mjolnir down upon the Rainbe with all the strength he could muster.

  Hairline fractures spread out from the epiter like a spider's web of gleaming, iridest cracks.

  Loki's eyes widened with sudden uanding. He mao stagger to his feet, his expression a mask of disbelief and growing horror. "Stop!" he cried, his voice raw with desperate urgency. "What are you doing?!"

  But Thor paid o his brother's pleas. He raised Mjain and again, the hammer seeming to grow heavier with each passing moment as if the weight of his decision was bearing down upon him like a physical burden.

  Each blow was more devastating than the previous, creating a resounding boom that echoed across Asgard like the tolling of some great, ic bell. The cracks in the Rainbe widened and deepehe structure groaning and shuddering uhor's strikes. The Bifrost's energy, once focused and trolled, now spilled out from the fissures in chaotitrolled bursts, the very air shimmering with the force of its release.

  Loki tried to pierce through Thor's resolve, to stay his hand before it was too te. "If you destroy the Bridge," Loki warned, "you'll never see her again."

  The implication was a clear remihat if the Bifrost was lost, Thor stood to lose his pathway back to Earth. To Jane.

  For a moment, Thor hesitated, his grip on Mjolnir faltering ever so slightly. The weight of Loki's words settled upon his shoulders like a mantle of lead, the realization of the sacrifice he was about to make threatening to overwhelm him.

  But then, he whispered a plea, "Five me, Jane." in a quiet aowledgment of the price he was about to pay.

  Thor steeled himself once more. He knew, with a certainty that there was no other way, no other path that would not lead to eveer tragedy and loss.

  Loki leaped fungnir clutched in his hands like a spear of vengeance. His eyes bzed with a feral, desperate light as he intended on running his brother through from behind, putting ao this madness ond for all.

  With a final, mighty heave, Thht Mjolnir down upon the Rainbe for the tenth and final time. And with that devastating stroke, the fate of the Bifrost, and of the realms it ected, was sealed.

  The destru of the Bifrost was a moment of unparalleled chaos aation that would forever be etched into the annals of Asgardian history. As Thor struck the decisive blow, the very foundations of the bridge shattered, unleashing a torrent of rainbow energy that exploded outwards with unfathomable force. The shards and fragments of its once-pristine surface scattered like stardust across the ing waters below.

  The bst was a maelstrom of light and sound, a cacophony of raw, primal power that seemed to rend the very fabric of reality itself. Loki and Thor, caught at the epiter of the explosion, were violently hurled into the air like rag dolls, their bodies tossed and buffeted by the sheer magnitude of the energy that surged around them.

  A wave of destru raced along the length of the Rainbe, a releide of shimmering, iridest energy that tore through everything in its path. The once-pristine surface of the bridge cracked and splintered, great ks of crystallierial breaking away and tumbling into the void below. It was as if the very bones of Asgard were being ripped asuhe lifeblood of the realm spilling out in a dazzling, terrifying dispy of ic fury.

  The Observatory, the ing jewel of the Bifrost, was ed by the unleashed forces. The intricate meisms and delicate instruments that had charted the stars and guided the passage between worlds were ripped apart, their pos scattered like leaves in a hurrie. The building itself crumbled and fell into the void as the wave of energy tore through its very foundations.

  Amidst the chaos and the destru, Loki and Thor were unched high. The massive wave of Bifrost energy engulfed them and pulverized their bodies amidst the debris. Once gravity reasserted its hold, they plummeted through the air, and their bodies hurtled toward the emptiness below.

  In a st, desperate gambit, Thor mao grab hold of one end of Gungnir. Loki, his eyes wide with fear and desperation, g to the other end, his knuckles white with the strain of holding on for dear life.

  Their fates were seemingly sealed by the unstoppable force of the Bifrost's destru. But just as they braced for the iable, a powerful presence suddenly intervened.

  A strong, unyielding hand closed around Thor's ankle, halting his dest. Thor dahere, suspended over the abyss, Gungnir clutched in one hand and Loki hanging on for dear life at the other end.

  Loki ed his o look up at their savior, his eyes widening with shock as he beheld the source of their salvation.

  Standing at the edge of the shattered Rainbe, was Odin Allfather, the king of Asgard and the mightiest of all the gods. He had seemingly awakened from his Odi the critical moment and had arrived just in time to intervene ie of his sons. His weathered face was etched with lines of wisdom and grief. Loki searched his father's face for some sign of approval, some glimmer of redemption or acceptance. But what he found instead was a look of profound disappoi, a sadhat seemed to reato the very depths of his soul.

  "I could have do, Father!" Loki cried out, his voice raw with desperation and longing. "For you! For all of us!"

  But Odin merely shook his head, his eye filled with a sorrow that no words could adequately express. "No, Loki," he said, his voice heavy. "I only ever wanted you to be my son."

  At that moment, something seemed to break within Loki, a final, fragile thread of hope and belonging that had been stretched to its limit. With a look of utter devastation, he released his grip on Gungnir, his fingers slipping away from the spear's haft as he let himself fall into the maelstrom below.

  "No!" Thor cried out, his voice crag with anguish and despair as he watched his brother disappear into the swirling vortex of energy. But it was too te. Loki was gone, swept away by the tide of destru along with the shattered remnants of the Bifrost and the Observatory.

  Odin hauled Thor up onto the broken edge of the bridge. "I'm sorry I couldn't save your brother," Odin murmured, "I tried, Thor. I tried."

  Thor looked up at his father, his eyes red-rimmed and haunted by the memory of Loki's final, terrible choice. "I know, Father," he said softly, his words barely audible over the roar of the Bifrost's destru. "I know."

  "I'm not your father," the figure before him said.

  Thor's body went rigid with shock as Odin shifted and ged before his eyes. He watched in stunned disbelief as the Allfather's visage melted away, revealing not the king of Asgard, but the Midgardian man, Tyson.

  Thor's eyes widened as reition dawyson, the mortal he had met on Midgard, now stood on the shattered edge of the Bifrost in his father's pce. Thor's mind reeled, struggling to make sense of this revetion.

  "Loki bested me in bat," Tyson expined, his voice low and solemn. "Your father remains in the Odinsleep. I returned just in time to stop you from falling into the void." He paused, regret flickering across his face. "I hoped that taking Odin's form would ence Loki to turn from his destructive path, but I was wrong."

  Thor stared, dumbfounded by Tyson's admission. This unassuming mortal had not only intervened in Asgard's affairs but had gone so far as to impersohe Allfather himself in a desperate bid to sway Loki. Thor's shock slowly gave way to a swell of gratitude.

  "I appreciate what you tried to do for my brother, Tyson," Thor said finally, meeting the mortal's eyes with siy. "Loki made his choice. You bear no bme for that."

  Tyson had fought fard, Thor realized, and though his efforts had failed to alter Loki's fate, the attempt spoke of ce and passion. Loki's as were his own; Tyson had tried to steer the embittered god from his course.

  Thor pced a hand firmly on the mortal's shoulder, hoping to vey the depth of his thanks. Tyson had proven himself a true friend to the realm on this day.

  — Rogue Rept —

  Tyson stood in the corridor deep within his mind. The doors lining the hallway were a gateway to a u of abilities, a remnant of someone whose life he had touched. As he retraced his steps towards the beginning of the hall, his mind was drawn to two individuals in particur.

  Illyana Rasputin with her burgeoning mastery over the are arts and her mutant ability of teleportation. Her power could grant him the ability to appear and disappear at will otlefield. The idea of outmaneuvering Loki was a tempting prospect. And then there was Jeahe formidable telepath and telekiic. With her power, Tyson had defeated an army, had stalemated Mago. He could engage Loki from the skies, unbound by the straints of gravity, and rain dowru upon his foe from above.

  But as Tyson drew closer to their doors, his pace slowed, a flicker of hesitation staying his hand. The prospect of wielding such immense power was undeniably alluring. Yet, he found himself grappling with the potential sequences of using those powers to stop Loki and alter the course of events that had bee in motion.

  This moment of indecision was not born of fear or doubt in his abilities but rather stemmed from an uanding of the delicate banvolved in ging the future.

  Tyson realized that the as he took could have far-reag effects.

  He uood the of events that would unfold if Loki's path tinued unaltered. Loki's fall from the Rainbe would iently lead him to Thanos, the Mad Titan. It ath that would see Loki armed with the scepter taining the Mind Stone, an Infinity Stone. And would ultimately lead to the formation of the Avengers and the invasion of New York.

  Tysohat with either woman's abilities at his and, he had the power to alter this course, to stop Loki here and nootentially save the Rainbe from destru. The temptation to interveo prevent the immi catastrophe, tugged at his very soul.

  But even as he pted the possibility, Tyson's mind turo the broader implications of su intervention. The Battle of New York, while devastating in its scope and impact, had a pivotal oute that could not be ignored. It had resulted in the Mind Stone being removed from Thanos's possession, a crucial step in the rger war against the Mad Titan that would span years and affect tless lives across the universe. A war that Earth had no idea was ing. Infinity War didn't start when Asgard was destroyed, or when Thanos retrieved the Power Stone from Xandar. The opening move was when Thanos sent Loki to retrieve the Space Stone from Earth.

  Tyson grappled with the ethical dilemma that y before him, the question of whether it was justifiable to allow the Battle of New York to unfold, to accept the destru and loss of life that would follow if it meant keeping one of the Infinity Stones out of Thanos's hands. reventing that otle worth the risk of the Mind Stone remaining uhe trol of one of the most dangerous beings in the os?

  Deep in his heart, Tysohat the stakes were higher than just oy, otle. The fate of half the universe hinged on trolling the Infinity Stones, and his decision now could have profound sequences for the oute of that rger flict.

  Choosing a door wasn't just a choice about which power could be used to defeat Loki; it was a moment where his as could fually reshape the flow of events to e.

  As he stood there, lost in thought, Tyson's mind drifted back to the words of the A One, spoken to him months earlier. She had told him that she could foresee no oute in which he prevehe destru of the Rainbe. Her statement had rankled him deeply at the time.

  But now, as he reflected on her words with the be of hindsight, a new uanding began to dawn within his mind. It wasn't a question of capability, of whether he possessed the power or ability to alter the course of events. Rather, Tysnized, it was a matter of choice.

  In every future the A One had glimpsed, he had made the scious decision not to interfere… Unless she'd just been maniputing him the whole time. Telling him what she o, to ence the sequence of events she desired.

  This realization was a revetion, a moment of crity that cut through the fog of doubt and indecision that had clouded his thoughts. Tyson couldn't know the A One's goals, but he could grasp the bigger picture, the rger tapestry of cause and effect.

  He knew, deep down, that the greater good sometimes required sacrifice, that the fate of billions could hinge oe of a sitle. And he uood, with a heavy heart, that allowing the Mind Stoo fall out of Thanos's grasp, even at the cost of the Rainbe and the lives that would be lost in New York, rice that had to be paid.

  The destru of the Rainbe ivotal moment in the grand scheme of things. It was a necessary step oh that would lead to the eventual defeat of Thanos.

  If the A One was telling the truth if there was no future where he stopped the destru of the Rainbe…

  It was because he chose not to stop it.

  In every future, he must have chosen the Infinity Stone over the Rainbe.

  But with that realization came a new problem that Tyson had to front.

  The destru of the Rainbe would leave him stranded in Asgard.

  His thoughts turo Illyana's power. Her mutant ability allowed her to teleport across dimensions to Limbo and could theoretically cover vast distances. But even as he sidered it, Tyson remembered the uable nature of Illyana's power. She could cover any distance, but the further it went, the more uable the results became. Not spatially, he'd end up where he wanted, but it could send him hurtling through time. After the battle with Azazel, Illyana used her power to send Omega Red back to Russia; Tyson never determihe mutant's fate.

  The risk was too great, and the possibility of ending up in a distant past or a far-flung future was too high.

  But then, a sudden realization dawned on Tyson. His gaze fell upon another door, one he hadn't initially sidered a viable option, and a flicker of excitement stirred within his chest. He peered through the small window set into its surface.

  The red-skinned, demonic mutant, Azazel.

  Azazel's power was his best ce to return to Earth safely and accurately. It was an ability that could bridge the gap between worlds and dimensions, and unlike Illyana's power, he worry about temporal dispt. It was the best solution to his predit.

  But even as he reached for the door haysoated, a flicker of doubt passing over his features. Amora had assured that the psyche he chose wouldn't overwhelm his own, that he would retain trol.

  Ahe memories of his previous enters with Azazel lingered in his mind, a reminder of the forceful presehat had ohreateo e him entirely. The a mutant had been a formidable adversary, his will and ambition overwhelmed Tyson's own. With Azazel's demise at the hands of Illyana, Tyson had thought the danger he posed had passed, but now, faced with the prospect of taking on Azazel's power once more, he found himself grappling with a new wave of uainty.

  But he had to ask himself. Was it possible that if Azazel's personality were to bee dominant, would he still hold to Tyson's current objective? Azazel had been a being driven by quest and sought to rule over the demonic realm of Limbo. As he sidered the nature of his pn, the full scope of what he hoped to achieve, a flicker of uanding passed through his mind. The goal of seg an Infinity Stone, of harnessing such immense power n that should appeal to Azazel.

  This realization solidified Tyson's resolve, easing the apprehensions that had clouded his thoughts. He reized a parallel between his own goals and the ambitions that had driven Azazel.

  And so, with a newfound crity and a nod of self-affirmation, Tyson reached out and grasped the handle of the door. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the rush of power and knowledge that he knew would follow, and then, with a final, decisive twist of his wrist, he opehe door to Azazel's room and stepped inside.

  Tyson's eyes snapped open, his sciousness surging back to the forefront of his mind. The weight of Azazel's psyche pressed against his own. It was there, undeniably potent, but as Amora promised, it was not overwhelming. He could feel the demon's power, experience, and knowledge c through him.

  Taking a deep breath, Tysoered himself. He hadn't sidered Azazel's magic wheing his door, but it was a wele bonus. Tyson focused on it, uanding its intricacies as if he'd spent years studying the are arts. With a gesture and a muttered intation, he cast an invisibility spell. The air around him shimmered briefly before he vanished from sight.

  Tyson focused on his destination, picturing the Rainbe where he khor and Loki were locked in battle. In an instant, the world around him blurred and shifted. A cloud of sulfurous smoke engulfed him, and when it dissipated, he found himself standing ihe Bifrost Observatory, peering through the hole they made in its wall as they battled. Even invisible he remained cautious to avoid dete. He watched surreptitiously as Thor and Loki cshed in a furious duel. The bridge beh their feet pulsed with energy.

  Ihe observatory, Tyson could feel the raw power emanating from the structure. Monit the battle between Loki and Thor made him not feel so bad about his own loss to the trickster as he saw Loki holding his own against the god of thunder.

  Ultimately, Thor wotle, but then came the realization that he couldn't stop the Bifrost.

  He raised Mjh. Tyson realized what was about to happen. This was the moment. Thor was going to destroy the Rainbe.

  As Thht Mjolnir down with earth-shattering force, Tyson braced himself. The impact sent shockwaves through the bridge, fractures spreading like spider webs across its surface. The air itself seemed to scream as the a structure began to tear itself apart.

  Tyson watched, invisible and silent, as Thor tio rain down strikes on the bridge.

  The Bifrost shattered beh Thor's final blow. He saw Loki's form bsted away by the force of the explosion, tumbling through the air.

  Tysohe pull of opportunity; Loki was vulnerable, overwhelmed. Drawing on Azazel's power, he teleported, reappearing in mid-air o Loki's flying form. Time seemed to slow as Tyson reached out, his fiips barely grazing Loki's hand. The tact sted only a fra of a sed, but it was enough. Tysohe familiar rush of energy as his life-draining touch activated, pulling a portion of Loki's esseo himself.

  His earliest memories were to keep up with his brother Thor. Always smaller, always slower, he learned early on that his strength y in his mind. While he joihor training with ons, he also devoured books of history and magic, finding so knowledge and illusions. His first successful shapeshifting was a moment of triumph. ging into a so trick Thor, he reveled in the power of deception. It was a small victory, but ohat set the course for his future. As they grew, the differences between the brothers became more pronounced. At feasts and gatherings, he watched as Thor basked in adoration while he lingered in the shadows. Envy took root, along with a desperate desire to prove himself worthy. His skill in magic flourished under Frigga's tutege. Illusions, telekinesis, and energy manipution became his tools. He learo use ing where he cked brute strength, often outsmarting his oppos. His pranks grew more eborate and sometimes cruel. He turned Sif's golden hair jet batch his own. As Thor's ation approached, fear ament reached a boiling point. He couldn't bear the thought of kneeling to his brother for eternity. His scheme to disrupt the ceremony by letting Frost Giants into Asgard was a desperate gambit. The truth of his heritage hit him like a physical blow. He was the monster parents tell their children about at night. fusion turo ahen to a terrible purpose. If he couldn't be the golden son, he would prove himself the better king by any means necessary. With Odin in the Odinsleep and Thor banished, he finally sat upohrone of Asgard. But the power he'd craved for so lo hollow. Sending the Destroyer to Earth was an act of fear as much as malice, a frantic attempt to prevent Thor's return.

  Caught in the explosion, Loki didn't eveer what had happened.

  Tyson vanished from the turbulent sky in a puff of sulfurous smoke. He reappeared at the edge of the destroyed bridge, avoiding the wake of the explosion.

  Without hesitation, Tyson called upon Azazel's shapeshifting powers, transf his appearao that of Odin Allfather.

  As Thor fell past him, Tyson-as-Odin lunged forward, his hand shooting out to grasp Thor's ankle. He felt the weight of the thunder god, but his own strength bined with what he absorbed from Loki's, it was like holding a baby, hardly straining his muscles.

  Thor looked up in surprise, his blue eyes wide with a mix of relief and fusion.

  — Rogue Rept —

  At the precipice of Asgard, Thor and Tyson stood together, their forms silhouetted against the shimmering expanse of the os. The shattered remnants of the Rainbe stretched out before them, a once-magnifit structure now reduced to jagged fragments that glittered like broken gss ihereal light of the realm eternal.

  The bridge's vibrant colors, once a dazzling spectrum of hues that pulsed with the heartbeat of Asgard itself, were now muted and fractured, a pale echo of their flory. Beyond the ruined bridge, the vastness of the universe unfolded before them, a tapestry of distant stars and swirling hat paihe heavens in shades of purple and gold. It was a sight that simultaneously inspired awe and underscored the profound isotion of their position, a reminder of the immense distahat separated Asgard from the other realms.

  Thor, his hand ed around the haft of Gungnir, the spear of the king, bore a solemn expression as he turo face Tyson. His blue eyes, usually alight with the fire of battle and the joy of camaraderie, were clouded with regret and a deep, abiding sadness. Mjolnir y a few feet away on the remaining, intact portion of the Bifrost bridge.

  "I'm sorry, my new friend," he said, "But without the Bifrost, there's no way to get you home."

  Tyson, his gaze fixed oarry expanse before them, replied with a quiet assurance. "I think I have a way home," he said.

  But before he could eborate, the sound of footsteps clig against the fractured surface of the Rainbe drew their attention. They turned as oo see Amora approag, her lithe form moving with a grad poise that seemed at odds with the chaos aru that surrouhem.

  She came to a halt before Thor, her emerald eyes lowered in a gesture of resped trition as she sank to one khe golden tresses of her hair spilled over her shoulders like a waterfall of spun sunlight, framing a downcast face that was at once beautiful aful.

  "My Prince," she began, her voice carrying a note of genuine remorse. "I'm sorry for my part in this. I could not go against Loki while he wielded Gungnir. I was ordered away, ae my preferences, I couldn't bring myself to it treason."

  Her fession carried the weight of the duty that bouo Loki's and. Tharded her with a mix of uanding and sorrow. Tyson sehe tension that threaded through the moment and spoke up in Amora's defense.

  "Amora came to me when I was weak aed," he said, "While she followed the orders she was given, she undoubtedly helped me by boosting my power and allowio assist you. Ily, she was the ohat saved you."

  Thor sidered the plexities of loyalty and duty. But Tyson was acutely aware of the fleeting nature of the abilities he'd gained from Amora's boost and knew he couldn't dey his departure for much longer.

  "I'm unsure how long I'll be able to maintain this power," he said, his toinged with a note ency. "I should go."

  At his annou, Amora looked up from her kneeling position, her eyes wide and pleading. "Wait, please," she implored, her gaze dartiween Tyson and Thor. "I have shamed myself with my part in this mutirated by Loki. I must atone for the mistakes I've made." She turo Thor, her voice low and ear. "As you underwent a trial on Midgard, I must do the same." Then, shifting her focus to Tyson, she spoke with a quiet iy that bordered on desperation. "Permit me to join you in your return to Earth. Please."

  After a moment of ptive silehor spoke with a soft yet firm authority. "Rise, Amora," he anded, his haending in a gesture of aowledgment. "You were deceived, as all of us were, by Loki's tricks."

  He paused, his eyes searg her face as he weighed the gravity of her request. "But if you feel this is needed, you have my approval." Then, turning to Tyson, he added, "But ultimately, he is the one making the jouro Midgard, and he is of Midgard. I leave the decision to him."

  Tyson studied Amora with a keen, appraising gaze. He knew her well enough the ambition that burned withihe thirst for power and influehat drove her every a. Yet, her sudden desire to leave Asgard and apany him to Earth puzzled him. She oised to gain favor and standing iermath of her i aid to Thor.

  She'd positioned herself to be regardless of who was victorious, and from Tyson's perspective, she'd succeeded. So, what did she stand to gain from this ued decision? What hidden motives lurked beh the surface of her trition and her plea for redemption?

  A, even as these doubts and questions swirled through his mind, Tyson couldn't deny the strategic advahat Amora's presen Earth could offer. Her ability to amplify his powers, to boost his abilities to heights he had never before achieved, was a boon that could not be ignored.

  With the looming specter of the Battle of New York on the horizon, Tyson realized that Amora could be a deg factor. Her magibined with his formidable gifts, could turide of the fli ways that he couldn't achieve alone. Especially if a or ued adversary intervened.

  And so, despite the lingering uainty that g the edges of his thoughts, Tyson made his decision. He would accept Amora's offer, would allow her to apany him back to Earth and face whatever trials and challenges y ahead.

  It was the pragmatic choice.

  Whatever her true motives, whatever hidden agendas she harbored, Tysohat he could use her power, her knowledge, and her ing.

  Tyson agreed with a simple nod, "Yes, you may join me," he stated pinly to Amora. Though he did not fully trust the entress, he would accept her aid for now.

  "Tell Jane Foster I am sorry," Than, his voice heavy with regret. "I promised a swift return to her, but without the Bifrost, it may be some time before I find my way back to Earth."

  Tyson nodded solemnly, sympathizing with the god's plight. "I will. Send my regards to the Warriors Three, and Lady Sif in particur… You have my dolences for Loki," he replied, carefully.

  Thor nodded, his eyes clouded by a mix of sadness and resolve. "Thank you, Tyson. Though his methods were misguided, Loki was still my brother."

  Tyson held his tongue, aware that Loki yet lived, choosing not to reveal this knowledge. Instead, he sought to redirect the versation to more positive matters.

  "You will make a fine king, Thor," he tinued. "Asgard could ask for no more capable a leader irying times."

  Thazed towards his kingdom in the distah Gungnir in his hands, his expression growiermined as the weight of kingship settled upon his shoulders. "I will do my best fard and its people," he vowed.

  "On that, I have no doubts," Tyson affirmed, "Good fortuo you, Thor. Asgard's future shines bright under yuidance."

  Tyson paused, a sudden thought crossing his mind. "Actually, one moment. Before I go…" he said, his voice trailing off with curiosity and a hint of determination.

  He turned and walked towards where Mjolnir y on the ground. Thor watched with a fident smile, while Amora's expression grew fused as Tyson approached the legendary on.

  Tyso down, his eyes fixed on the hammer's intricate engravings and its worher handle. He reached out, his fingers ing around the grip. For a moment, he hesitated.

  Then, with a deep breath, he lifted.

  To his surprise, and the utter astonishment of Thor and Amora, Mjolnir rose from the ground as easily as if it were a on tool. Tyso its power thrumming through his arm, a sensation both exhirating and terrifying.

  He turo face Thor, the hammer held firmly in his hand. The god of thunder's eyes were wide with shock, his mouth slightly agape as he struggled to prehend what he was seeing. Amora, too, seemed frozen in disbelief, her emerald eyes dartiween Tyson and the hammer he so effortlessly wielded.

  Tyson walked towards Thor. The weight of Mjolnir in his ha right as if it had been crafted for his grip.

  He stopped before Thor, holding out the hammer. "I believe this belongs to you," Tyson said, his voice steady despite the magnitude of the moment.

  Thor stared at Mjolnir, then at Tyson, his expression a storm of emotions; disbelief, awe, and a glimmer of pride. He seemed rooted to the spot, uo move or speak.

  Amora failed to process what she was witnessing. Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out.

  The moment stretched, filled with the weight of unspokeions and implications. Tyson stood firm, arm extended, the hammer to its rightful wielder.

  Finally, Thor stirred. He reached out slowly. Tyson looked into Thor's eyes as the god of thunder's fingers brushed against Tyson's as he grasped the hammer, and for a heartbeat, both mehe on of legend. The Asgardian didn't feel the pain or pull of Tyson's life drain as he absorbed the god's power through their tact.

  He was born in the golden realm of Asgard, a prince destined freatness. His earliest memories were of his father's grand halls, his mentle wisdom, and the mischievous grin of his brother Loki. As a child, he dreamed of battles and glory, py-fighting with wooden swords in the pace gardens. As he grew, so did his strength and skill. He trained relentlessly, mastering the art of bat under Asgard's greatest warriors. His prowess with axe and sword became legendary, but it was the hammer Mjolnir that called to him. Lightning crackled through the sky as he raised it high, accepting the on. He swore to use it to protect the Nine Realms, a vow he would strive to uphold throughout his life. Alongside the Warriors Three, Lady Sif, and his brother Loki, he adventured. Each victory added to his legend, but also to his pride. As his ation day approached, he felt invincible. The of Asgard was within his grasp. But fate, and Frost Giant intruders, intervened. His rash decision to attack Jotunheim revealed the depth of his arrogance. Banishment to Midgard came as a shock. Stripped of his power, he found himself alone in a strange world. It was there, among mortals, that he began to learn true humility. When the Destroyer arrived, threatening the i people of that town, he made the ultimate sacrifice. In that moment of selflessness, he proved himself truly worthy of Mjolnir once more. Returning to Asgard, he faced his greatest challe, fronting his brother Loki, now twisted by jealousy and rage.

  Then Tyson released his grip, and Thor accepted Mjolnir bato his possession.

  Thor hefted Mjolnir, testing its familiar weight. He regarded Tyson with newfound resped wonder, clearly seeing the mortal in a different light after witnessing his worthiness in wielding Mjolnir.

  Amora studied Tyson with keen i. His brief tact with the Asgardian prince hadn't gone unnoticed.

  "If you ever get fortable with that spear, feel free to toss Mjolnir back to Earth. I'll take good care of it," Tyson said, chug lightly.

  "I'm sure you would, my friend," Thor responded, matg his mirth.

  Tyson turo face Amora, his expression hopeful. Their final words and well-wishes had been exged with Thor, and now the time had e. He extended his hand in , palm open, inviting the entress to take the step with him.

  Amora accepted his grasp. Her delicate fingers curled around his.

  Closing his eyes, Tyson summohe mutant ability grao him by Azazel. He focused his mind, visualizing his suite before calling on the infernal powers that lurked within. A whirling vortex of smoke and fire began to swell around the entwined figures, growing in size and iy. The unnatural fmes licked harmlessly at their bodies as the vortex enveloped them pletely.

  In but a blink, Tyson and Amora vanished from sight, transported away.

  — Rogue Rept —

  Tyson and Amora materialized in his suite at the Four Seasons Downtown, the sudden shift from the ethereal realm of Asgard to the stark modernity of the hotel was jarring in its abruptness. Though the room spoke of wealth and refi, it couldn't match Asgard's majesty.

  But Tyson had little time to appreciate the surroundings, for the moment his feet touched the plush carpeting, a wave of weakness crashed over him like a tidal surge. His legs trembled beh him, his muscles turning to water as the st vestiges of Amora's power boost drained away, leaving him hollowed out and fragile.

  Staggering towards the bathroom, his senses reeled and his vision blurred at the edges. Tyson barely made it to the toilet before his stomach heaved and vulsed, emptying its tents in a series of violent spasms. The room spun around him like a dizzying carousel, the walls and floor blended in a siing whirl.

  But in his misery, Tyson was dimly aware of Amora's prese his side. With a gentlehat belied her usual air of haughty detat, she gathered his hair in her fingers, holding it back from his sweat-dampened face as he retched and heaved.

  Her touch was feather-light, almost tender as she stroked his hair and scalp, her firag soothing patterns against his skin. "I ed to warn you," she murmured, her voice a soft caress iillness of the bathroom. "The aftermath of a boost be rough. But was it not worth the power it granted?"

  Tyson, lost ihroes of his wretess, could barely process her words, let alone muster the strength to respond. Just as he thought the worst had passed, another wave of nausea smmed into him like a physical blow, doubling him over the toilet once more as his stomach ched and heaved.

  He hadn't eveen siniting earlier on the Rainbe. How did he still have so much to throw up?

  It seemed to go on forever, ay of misery and weakhat left him shaking and spent, his forehead pressed against the cool por in a vain attempt to ground himself. But finally, mercifully, the spasms subsided, leaving him hollow and ag in their wake.

  It was then that he felt the gentle caress of Amora's magic. She cast a refreshing spell that swept over him like a cool breeze on a summer's day. It sed his mouth and body, banishing the sour tang of bile and the ging remnants of sweat and grime, leaving him feeling and refreshed.

  But even that small mercy could do little to alleviate the bone-deep exhaustion that had settled over him like a leaden b. Colpsing back against the bathroom wall, the tiles cool and solid against his skin, Tyson was struck by how utterly alien this weakness felt. Since abs Sabertooth, he had never experienced such vulnerability, such a profound sense of his mortality. It was as if the god-like strength and resiliehat had bee his new normal had been stripped away, leaving him as fragile and helpless as any other human.

  In a se that would have seemed surreal to any onlooker, Amora bent down and scooped Tyson into her arms, cradling him against her chest like a child. She moved with an effortless grace, as if Tyson wasn't well over five hundred pounds, carrying him out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

  Her as were suffused with a tenderness. She carefully id him down on the plush bed. Leaning down, she brushed her lips against his forehead in a soft kiss, the gesture at onf and strangely solemn. It was as if, at that moment, she was aowledging the boween them.

  As Tyson y there, his body heavy and ag with weariness, he looked up at Amora, his mismatched eyes searg her face for hints of her thoughts. She watched him iurn, her gaze filled with a curious iy as if she were trying to uhe mysteries that y behind his mortal fa?ade.

  "Why didn't you stop Loki?" she asked at st, her voice ced with a hint of frustration. "I was watg. I know you could have killed him, or at least saved him. Why did you seemingly waste the pave you?"

  Tyson drew in a breath, gathering the tattered remnants of his strength to answer. "I couldn't kill Thor's brother," he said, his voice weak but firm. "In your own words, despite his misdeeds, he saved Odin. And frankly, his as oh hadn't justified su extreme measure. The worst the Destroyer did was cause property damage."

  Tyson drew a ragged breath before tinuing his expnation. "After I touched Sif and saw her memories, I knew something was amiss with Odin. When he had rescued them from their atta Jotunheim, the Allfather had seemed feeble and weary. And soon after, he had slipped into the Odinsleep." He shook his head slowly. "Acc to Sif's recolles, Odin had already postponed sleep to oversee Thor's ation. Had he been forced from his rest prematurely, I suspect, the Allfather would have bee dangerously weakened."

  Tyson's voice, though still weak, carried vi. "Regardless of my quarrel with Loki and his reckless as oh, my foremost priorities were aiding Thor and ensuring Odin had time to recover. The security of Asgard and its king took prece." He paused, chest heaving with the strain of speaking at such length. "Yes, I likely could have interveo save Loki at the end. But after the bastard stabbed me in the eye and disied half my body, I felt no particur motivation to save the fucker from the fate he had chosen."

  Amora chuckled at his vulgar nguage. "I see your point," she said at st, her tone softening with uanding. "Your approach was more about the bigger picture, the long-term sequences."

  Amora's expression turned grave as she sidered the wider implications of Tyson's as. "While your choices may have bee fard and yourself, I fear they will have dire sequences for the other realms," she said somberly. "Jotunheim will undoubtedly seek vengeance for the atta their world and the murder of their king. Su act of aggression ot go unanswered."

  She paused, gaining a faraway look. "With the Rainbe destroyed, Asgard is isoted from the other realms. Without the Bifrost to provide stability and order, Asgard’s protectorates will be left to fend for themselves." Turning back to Tyson, she fixed him with an inteare, her eyes fshing. "Loki and Thor's feud will have long-sting sequeheir as have destabilized the delicate baween the realms. Chaos will spread, war and bloodshed will follow."

  Tyson was quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Amora's words weighed heavy on him, the implications of what had transpired on the Rainbe sinking in. But he khanos losing the Mind Stone was worth the cost.

  "How did you know?" Amora asked, breaking the silence. "How did you know the bridge would be destroyed?"

  Tysoated, scrambling for a pusible expnation. He could hardly tell the Asgardian sorceress that her universe was fial eai from his previous life.

  "I...I had a vision," he said finally. "With the psychic abilities I absorbed previously, I foresaw what would transpire between Thor and Loki on the bridge."

  Amora arched one sculpted eyebrow, skepticism writ across her lovely features. "A vision told you the bridge would shatter? Do not insult me with such a transparent falsehood." She fixed him with an intense emerald gaze. "I glimpsed your memories. I would have noticed such a vision."

  Tyson suppressed a ge. "Alright, you've caught me," he admitted. "Once I had knowledge from both you and Lady Sif, I uood the forces at py, it wasn't hard to deduce how events would unfold." Even as the words left his mouth, he knew Amora would never accept such a flimsy expnation.

  Sure enough, Amora let out a silvery peal of ughter. "e now, let's not pretend," she purred, with a knowing smile. "You are brave, and strong, and worthy. This I do not dispute. But clever?" She shook her head, blond tresses swaying with the motion. "You are many things, Tyson the Mirage, but clever is not one of them."

  Despite the exhaustion weighing down his limbs, Tyso a spark of irritation at her desding words. "I was clever enough to catch you, wasn't I?" he shot back, pride stung.

  Amora's smile only wide his retort. "On the trary, I believe it was my own cleverness you absorbed that allowed you to best me." She trailed one long, elegant finger down his cheek. "And the demon's cleverhat had you absorb a hint of life force from both Asgardian prio carry a piece of them inside you."

  Her wave Tyson pause.

  She wasn't wrong.

  Tyson nodded in acquiesce, the simple gesture taking more effort than he cared to admit. "Believe what you want," he said tiredly, exhaustion draining the fight from his voice. "Just know that I had my reasons for allowis to py out as they did."

  "Why did you e here?" He asked, his voice little more than a whisper as he tried to shift the topic.

  Amora's hand stilled in his hair, her fingers resting lightly against his scalp as she sidered her answer. "Fine. Have your secrets then, Mirage… I knew you'd be weak after the boost faded," she said at st, her voicharacteristically gentle. "I couldn't let you get killed now. Without the Bifrost, without Asgard, Earth will be vulnerable. You're strong, but not strong enough to defend this realm… yet. I came here to ensure you don't die before you are."

  She leaned in close, her breath warm against his skin as she whispered an entment, the words thrumming with a subtle magic that seemed to emanate from her very being. Her lips brushed against his in a soft, lingering kiss, the spell passiween them like a shared secret.

  "Rest now, and grow strong," she murmured, her voice a soothing lulby iillness of the room. "I'll be watg."

  And with those words, Tyso himself slipping away, his sciousness fading into the gentle embrace of a magical slumber. His st coherent thoughts were with Amora's words. If she'd be watg, it meant she wouldn't be staying with him.

  He tried to object, "Wait…"

  But he only got out a single word before the darkness cimed him.

  Behind the Ses

  - I’ve been posting this story long enough to know that many may be unhappy with Tyson’s decision not to take Jean’s or Illyana’s power and stomp Loki into the ground. When I first wrote the chapter, that was the dire I leaned, and also how Tyson’s thoughts went in the chapter here. It would’ve beeo beat Loki and prove the A One wrong. But upon further thought. What would be the point of beating Loki down? For the ‘get-back’? Making sure the Mind Stone ends up oh is far more important thay revehere will be time for the get-back, but it wasn’t now.

  Question for Readers

  We see in this chapter that Tyson is worthy of lifting Mjolnir, whereas in Chapter 58, only one day prior, he wasn’t. Why do you think he was able to lift it this time?

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