Chapter 80: The Tale of the Thunder God Comes to an End

Loki’s eyes were bloodshot, glaring fiercely at Thor.
“I never wanted the throne. I only wanted to be treated the same as you.”
Thor felt a pang of guilt; he had been given so much, he’d forgotten about Loki.
“I won’t fight you, brother.”
“I’m not your brother. I never was.”
Loki’s heart felt as though it were being torn apart. He truly was not Thor’s brother.
What a cruel twist of fate.
Hearing their years of brotherhood denied, Thor too felt agony pierce his heart, his eyes turning red as he stood there, lost and helpless.
“Loki, you’re out of your mind.”
All these years together, how could they not be brothers?
“Am I? Mad, is it?”
Loki looked at Thor and demanded, “What did you encounter on Earth? Was it because of that woman?”
“Is that so? Well, maybe, when all this ends, I should go see her.”
Loki could no longer hold back; tears streamed down his face.
Brother, you betrayed our bond for the sake of a woman. Brother, you’ve changed.
Then the two grappled fiercely. Loki used every trick he knew, but in the end, he was outmatched—Thor pinned him to the ground with unyielding strength.
Afterward, Thor rushed to shut down the Bifrost, but he was too late.
The Bifrost had amassed a tremendous amount of energy; it was impossible to reach the control room.
Helpless and heartbroken, Thor shattered the Bifrost.
Odin was utterly exasperated. He’d only slept for a short while, and these two heirs had squandered everything.
His Destroyer, his Bifrost—gone, all gone.
Heimdall: I have it even worse. I worked tirelessly, and now not only is my job gone, but the place itself has been destroyed.
In the end, Loki was lost to the stars, and their story ended.
Michael’s work, too, was finished.
It had been a bountiful harvest: a trove of Uru metal and Asgardian genes—enough to keep Michael busy for some time.
After Coulson reported everything to Nick Fury, it was said that Fury’s expression turned grim before he exploded—
“Motherf—!”

Coulson, too, felt Michael had gone too far.
It was one thing for him to take the lion’s share, but he didn’t even leave them the scraps, and in the end, dumped all the trouble on their laps.
He looked at the Warriors Four of Asgard and began to try to persuade them.
Sif looked at Hill and said, “It’s bad enough you’ve imprisoned us, but you also stripped us of our clothes, confiscated our weapons, and now you expect us to work for you?”
Volstagg chimed in, “Exactly! Work for you? Not a chance. By the way, will you at least feed us tonight?”
“You glutton! All you care about is food, and you don’t even know what’s become of Thor.”
Coulson replied, “The God of Thunder has regained Mjolnir’s recognition. He’s already departed.”
Fandral exclaimed in delight, “Really?”
Hogun smacked him. “You fool, you actually believe him?”
As the four argued noisily, Coulson’s headache grew. He could only show them the video of Thor leaving.
Finally, the four could rest assured.
Nick Fury called Michael over video. “Dr. Michael, I trust your haul this time was considerable.”
“It was all right,” Michael replied, all the while tending the furnace, attempting to melt the Uru metal.
“Dr. Michael, could you let us have part of the Destroyer’s remains?”
“Absolutely not, Egghead Director. It’s not that I underestimate you, but given your scientific level, you wouldn’t get anything out of it.”
That nickname, “Egghead Director,” made the veins on Nick Fury’s forehead bulge.
No one knew who started it, but the title “Egghead” had spread throughout S.H.I.E.L.D., along with a new fad for a dish called “braised eggs.”
“So, can you at least share some of your research with us?”
Michael replied with a trace of confusion, “What good would that do? You don’t have any Uru, and you lack sorcerers.”
The veins on Nick Fury’s forehead stood out even more. Why did they have no Uru? Did Michael really need to ask?
They’d always cleaned up the aftermath, taken everything not nailed down—never once had S.H.I.E.L.D. come up empty-handed before.
“If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up now. Also, regarding your supercarrier project, I’ve already submitted my part of the design. Don’t bother me again for a few days.”
Nick Fury stared at the disconnected call, cursing under his breath.
The agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. were left baffled—who had managed to rile up Nick Fury this time?
Glancing at the surveillance feed, Fury took comfort in the fact that he still had four Asgardians to make use of. Troublesome as they were, at least it wasn’t a total loss.
...
Gwen entered the lab and, spotting the oversized white mice, asked in bewilderment, “You’re experimenting with interspecies gene fusion in mice again?”

She still remembered that lizard-mouse from last time—far too terrifying.
Michael glanced at the large mouse. “It’s okay. This fusion is stable; there’s no risk of it going berserk.”
Dr. Connors’ mouse experiment had technically been a success, but the lizard genes were too aggressive, which was why that mouse went mad.
The Asgardian gene was different. It didn’t instill any bestial instincts, so the mutated mice remained docile.
“Why not just dispose of them? Still need to observe?” Gwen asked curiously.
“Disposing of them is a waste. I might as well modify them and see if they’re useful for anything.”
The company had brain-control chip technology. For instance, Doctor Octopus’s tentacles were controlled by a chip connected to the spine.
Yet the chip for controlling the mechanical arms malfunctioned, and instead, Otto was controlled by the rudimentary AI in the arms, transforming him into Doctor Octopus, willing to do anything to achieve his dreams.
Now, with Tony’s arc reactor, Otto’s dreams had already been realized by someone else, and he had become somewhat despondent, switching to other research and abandoning his villainous path.
As for the mechanical tentacles, Michael had already transplanted them onto another set of armor—Otto would never be controlled by them again.
“What’s wrong? You seem out of sorts.”
Michael looked at Gwen and set down what he was holding.
Sitting in Michael’s chair, Gwen said, “I’m bored. I’ve already self-studied all my freshman courses. The lectures are so dull; I can’t stand them anymore.”
Michael teased, “Then try your hand at being a vigilante. Aren’t you planning to become Spider-Woman?”
With the Spider Suit, Michael felt quite at ease.
“But crime rates have dropped so much lately! And with Spider-Man, the Green Hornet, Spider-Woman, and Daredevil—four superheroes keeping the peace—criminals don’t even dare show their faces.”
Michael frowned. The Green Hornet? Wasn’t that a comedy character?
He checked his phone, and Red Queen’s answer was Richard.
So the kid wasn’t causing family drama; he’d actually become the Green Hornet?
Michael was speechless. Hell’s Kitchen had Daredevil and the Green Hornet; Queens had Spider-Man; the wealthy districts had Iron Man.
Criminals of New York—how could you possibly survive?
“How about being my assistant? I’m getting overwhelmed handling everything alone.”
Michael truly did have his hands full.