: Faith Collapses, Desperate Mortals

Li Ang stood on a makeshift platform, with Coulson holding an umbrella for him beside him.

An unsuspecting agent would probably think he was some important figure.

He didn't look at the hammer, but instead surveyed the heavily armed agents around him with great interest.

"The defenses are well done, Coulson."

Li Ang took a bite of the hot dog in his hand. "It's a pity, it can protect you from gentlemen but not from reckless men."

"Mr. Li Ang, is that madman really coming?"

Coulson stood to one side, his gaze sweeping around.

"I bet five cents he's already cutting your barbed wire."

Li Ang swallowed the last bite of his hot dog and started joking with him.

Before he could finish speaking...

It's sizzling!

A piercing crackling sound of electricity tore through the rain, followed by the blaring of alarms.

"West Side Invasion! Repeat! West Side Invasion!"

A panicked shout came through the walkie-talkie: "The target is extremely powerful! We can't hold them off!"

Coulson's expression changed drastically, and before he could give the order, Leon snapped his fingers excitedly.

"Look, five cents in hand, the show's about to begin."

……

Inside the command center, dozens of screens flickered with a dim light.

In the surveillance footage, a burly figure is seen running wildly through the mud.

Thor was in a terrible state, his long golden hair covered in mud, and his plaid shirt torn to shreds, revealing his muscular physique.

"Drink!"

On the screen, Thor roared and punched an agent's mask.

The agent didn't even utter a sound before falling backwards into the muddy water.

This wasn't a battle; it was a one-sided crushing defeat.

Even without divine power, the physical abilities of Asgardians are still cheat-level.

Thor is like a human bulldozer, using the blind spots and terrain of the rainy night to tear a gap in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s defenses.

"Is...is this still human?"

A technician in charge of surveillance swallowed hard. "Agent Sitwell was just kicked six meters away by him!"

Coulson stared intently at the screen, his face ashen.

"You should be glad he's just a level 1 alt right now. If a max-level character came, you'd all be stuck in that pit by now."

Li Ang sat in the commander's chair, a bucket of popcorn in his hand, which he was happily munching on.

"Mr. Li Ang, this is not the time for jokes."

Coulson picked up the communicator. "Barton! Where's Barton?"

"I am here."

A calm and steady voice came through the communicator.

Screen switch.

On the towering elevator platform, a man dressed in a black, tight-fitting combat suit is kneeling in the rain.

Hawkeye, Clint Barton.

He held a composite bow in his hand, raindrops dripping down the bowstring.

He was like a lurking falcon, his eyes fixed on Thor, who was rolling around in the mud below.

"Sir, I think it would be best to let him get some sleep."

Patton drew back the bowstring, aiming the arrow at Thor's neck. "Just one shot."

Coulson was about to give the order.

Snapped.

A hand was placed on Coulson's hand holding the communicator.

Li Ang.

He had somehow gotten close to Coulson, still wearing that enigmatic smile.

"Don't rush, Lao Ke."

Li Ang took the communicator and said into the other end, "Hey, upstairs, put your toys away."

Patton was taken aback: "Who are you?"

"I'm the kind of person who, if you shoot this arrow, will make sure you never have a second chance in your life."

Li Ang's tone was relaxed, yet it conveyed an undeniable certainty: "Let him go."

"But..." Coulson wanted to say something.

"Do you want to see what despair really is?"

Li Ang interrupted him, pointing to the figure on the screen that was getting closer and closer to the meteorite crater.

"Physical injuries are just badges of honor for a delusional prince like him."

"Only by slapping him hard in the face and causing his faith to crumble will he learn what it means to be obedient."

Li Ang's voice deepened, carrying a hint of devilish allure.

Coulson looked into Leon's deep eyes and remained silent for three seconds.

"Barton, stand by," Coulson said into the communicator. "Send him over."

"receive."

……

Bottom of the meteorite crater.

Thor knocked down the last obstacle with a single punch and staggered into the core area.

The rain was getting heavier, and the cold mud filled his shoes, but he didn't feel the cold at all.

And at the very center of all this.

Thor's hammer, which had accompanied him through countless years of battles across the Nine Realms, lay quietly on a small mound.

Even in the pouring rain of this dark night, the intricate patterns on the hammer still exuded an aura of peace that reassured him.

"Mjolnir..."

Thor's voice trembled; all his weariness, humiliation, and anger transformed into ecstasy at that moment.

He smiled.

He laughed like a 300-pound child who had found his lost toy.

"I knew it... Father wouldn't really abandon me."

Thor wiped the mud off his face and stumbled toward the earthen slope.

The agents around him held their guns, forming a circle, but no one fired.

Everyone watched this mud-covered madman crawl step by step toward the hammer.

In the command room, Li Ang put down the popcorn bucket.

"The exciting part is coming," he said softly.

Thor climbed up to the hammer.

He reached out his hand, a large hand covered in mud and blood, and lovingly stroked the cold hammer handle.

"Old buddy, let's go home."

Thor murmured, his eyes regaining the pride of being the God of Thunder.

Just pick up this hammer.

Thunder will return.

The divine power will return.

He was once again the invincible son of Odin, not the vagabond who was pelted with rotten apples by mortals!

Thor took a deep breath, focusing his energy in his lower abdomen, and gripped the hammer handle tightly with his right hand.

"rise!"

He gave a low shout, his arm muscles bulged, and his veins stood out like coiled dragons.

however.

Not moving.

The hammer seemed to be embedded in the Earth's core, without even the slightest tremor.

Thor's smile froze.

"How..."

He doesn't believe in superstitions.

It must be because of the wrong posture, or because your hands are too slippery.

Thor gripped the hammer handle with both hands, his feet firmly planted in the mud, putting in all his strength.

"Get up!!!"

He roared, veins bulging on his neck, his face turning a deep liver color.

Rain washed over his proud blond hair, and mud splattered all over his body.

But the hammer remained as steady as a mountain, as if silently mocking him.

"No...no!!"

Thor panicked.

He released his grip, looking incredulously at his palm and then at the cold hammer.

That's his hammer!

They were his partners who had risked their lives together!

Why? Why did you reject me?!

"I am Thor, the God of Thunder!!!"

Thor raised his head and roared desperately at the dark, rain-soaked night sky.

"Aaaaaaah!!!"

The mournful roar echoed within the crater, only to be drowned out by thunder.

There was no lightning response to him.

No divine power flowed into his body.

Only the cold rain mercilessly extinguished his last illusions.

This moment is at the bottom of this muddy pit.

There is no Thor.

There was only one poor wretch who was abandoned by his father, forgotten by power, and rejected even by his only companion.

Thor collapsed to his knees in the mud, his hands hanging limply at his sides.

The command center was deathly silent.

Even Coulson was stunned by this scene.

The sense of despair from the collapse of faith is suffocating, even through a screen.

"Tsk."

A soft sound broke the silence.

Li Ang stood up and patted the popcorn crumbs off his hands.

"See that, Coulson?"

"This is a resounding slap in the face from reality to those suffering from chuunibyou (middle school syndrome), far more effective than your gun."