In a world filled with the kind of cold mist found inside a refrigerator.
"So, uh, there was a bit of an accident. Looks like you're going to have to trouble yourself with raising your dad all over again."
Those words were a literal bolt from the blue. As soon as Ian finished speaking, Thor's pupils contracted sharply, and his golden eyebrows trembled violently. He slowly looked down at the infant in the tent, who was currently smacking his lips—Odin, the All-Father, ruler of the Nine Realms, now wrapped in swaddling clothes and drooling.
Thor's temples throbbed. His expression changed five hundred and sixty-eight times in a single second—Ian was counting; he could tell the God of Thunder's emotions were shifting with extreme intensity.
"I—AN—!!"
Thor's roar shattered every remaining ice crystal within a hundred-meter radius. Blue lightning erupted uncontrollably from his body, pulverizing the remnant ice sculptures in the nearby ruins. Thor, like a maddened bull, charged at Ian with bloodshot eyes, Mjolnir flashing with dangerous lightning.
"Don't be like that... It's not my fault. Loki went crazy; he's the real culprit."
"Look on the bright side. Raising a girlfriend isn't nearly as good as raising your own father. You get to customize your own father's growth path... How is that not a gift from destiny?"
Ian's attempts to fix the situation naturally had no positive effect.
He understood this well.
As a Grandmaster of Time Management, Ian's scheduling had always been impeccable—much like his future college entrance exam scores would be. He had actually resolved the threat posed by Loki quite some time ago.
However.
Ian didn't save his teammates immediately. Instead, after ensuring their lives weren't in danger, he timed it so that he hatched the ice-sculpted Thor just moments before his own return.
At this moment.
He was about to leave.
No one could calm Thor's rage.
"Give me back my wise! Elegant! Loving father!" Thor roared as he charged, eyes red, hammer raised, screaming about turning Ian back into an infant too.
He was like an enraged mad dog, muscles bulging, divine blood boiling. With every step, the ice layer exploded. But just as he was about to pounce on Ian.
The precise calculations of the time management master kicked in.
*Dong—*
A distant bell rang through the world, audible only to Ian.
Thor's fist froze in mid-air.
Everything froze.
The wind stopped.
The smoke solidified.
Even the spit flying from Thor's mouth hung in mid-air, crystal clear. In the final second, Ian's figure slowly dissipated. Like a sand painting scattered by the wind, or a dream broken by an awakening. His awkward expression froze on his face, his figure turning into golden specks of light, disappearing completely from the Marvel Universe with the fading bell.
However, this experience was only perceived from Ian's perspective. From Thor's point of view, one second Ian was right there, his expression incredibly punchable, looking like the primary culprit.
The next second.
Ian vanished into thin air, leaving not even an afterimage. Thor lunged at nothing, his arms swinging through empty air. Momentum made him stumble a few steps until he eventually crashed to one knee, smashing a large crater.
Ian was gone.
The guy had even left with bags of "spoils" in his arms.
Equipment swiped from Miss Stark's jet, Gungnir, the Casket of Ancient Winters, and even fragments of Captain America's shield that had been packed up at some unknown point.
"Remember to feed your dad every day... I'll cover the formula money. Use the best stuff."
In the air.
Only the remnant of Ian's voice lingered—a mix of guilt and gloating. He waved his sleeve, yet he didn't take everything; items that couldn't be removed from this world fell to the ground.
It was the bottle containing Loki's soul, rolling twice on the ground. The lid loosened, and Loki's soul crawled to the rim, though he was a bit too afraid to crawl out.
He was, after all, just a weak soul now.
Silence.
Deathly silence.
The next instant—Thor screamed like a marmot.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH—!!!"
A scream that was a blend of a marmot and a cat getting its tail stepped on echoed through the world! Thor's eyes were bloodshot, his hair stood on end; he was red-lining to the extreme.
It looked like he might spontaneously combust.
This scene terrified Loki, who feared that if he crawled out, Thor would torture him mercilessly. He could only stare at his own nearby body and gulp incessantly.
Some things.
Thor and the others didn't know, but Loki had been a witness. He had seen that sinister brat, while in a soul state, use his bare hands to pluck Loki's soul out of the regressed child-body of Odin. Then, he pulled Odin's sleeping soul out of Loki's Frost Giant body and put it back into the infant vessel.
It wasn't just the sinister method of astral projection; such power over souls exceeded Loki's understanding. It reminded him of his partner, Knull, the God of Darkness.
"Save me, save me, Great God of Darkness," Loki prayed in his heart, but no response came. He could only watch Thor throw a tantrum outside.
To save himself.
Loki began to use his wits. Seeing Thor cursed Ian, Loki's eyes darted around; he felt this was a great opportunity to use Thor.
"That guy really is a lunatic, huh."
Loki began to speak to Thor from inside the thermos. Although Thor didn't want to talk to this source of all evil, Loki continued to try and get close.
"Listen, the struggle between our two nations is a matter for our two nations. Since when do outsiders get to stick their noses in, ruin everything, and then turn and run?"
"Such a person needs to be punished; they need to pay the price. He ran, but the mess is still here! The pain remains! Son of Odin, are you going to accept this lying down? Let us unite! I will help you get revenge! You for Asgard and your father, and me for my race!"
"We, the elders of the Nine Realms, must demand justice from that evil god!" He spoke with great emotion, his soul trembling, as if he had awakened a non-existent brotherly bond with Thor.
Thor's roar stopped abruptly. He slowly turned his head to look at the thermos.
Loki saw his chance and struck while the iron was hot: "Let us join forces! You, the Son of Odin, and I, the King of Frost Giants... uh, former King of Frost Giants..."
His voice grew smaller.
Because Thor's gaze was now terrifying enough to freeze a soul.
"Join forces?" Thor's voice was dangerously soft. He slowly picked up the thermos, looking Loki's soul in the eye. "You just said... desecrating the dignity of Asgard?"
"Yes! Yes!" Loki nodded frantically. "We can—"
His words weren't finished.
"The dignity of Asgard was desecrated by YOU!"
Thor was a man who knew right from wrong. He remembered the teachings his father had given him and knew exactly who the primary culprit was.
Because of this, he screwed the lid back on and chose a true exile.
*THWACK!*
It was a standard Asgardian-style goal kick. Thor intended to leave Loki in this zombie universe forever. The thermos turned into a shooting star and vanished over the horizon.
Vaguely.
Loki's fading scream could still be heard.
"Son of Odin, you'll die a miserable death—!"
Loki felt the world spinning. The thermos drew a perfect parabola in the air, accurately hitting the head of a zombie that had just crawled out of the permafrost.
The zombie's rotten head exploded like a watermelon. The bottle "clinked" and rolled to the side, the lid loosening slightly. The zombie's mangled body swayed a few times before it mindlessly reached out to pick up the thermos. Its empty sockets stared at the jumping blue soul in the bottle, black slime dripping from its decayed mouth.
This was the zombie's most primal reaction: if it looks edible, put it in your mouth.
"Wait! You brainless idiot!" Loki's soul pounded frantically on the inner wall of the bottle. "I am the greatest God-of-Gods of the Nine Realms! If you dare—"
His words weren't finished.
The zombie's fingernails, which didn't understand human speech, had already dug into the gap of the lid.
"No! Stop! My soul is poisonous! Extremely toxic!" Loki's voice began to tremble; he was truly panicking now. "You'll have diarrhea! For ten thousand years!"
He didn't want to be digested and come out of a zombie's backside. Loki began to use both threats and manipulation, but since the zombie had no brain, it couldn't understand his flowery words.
Fast-talking only works if the listener understands the language.
The zombie's movements didn't stop at all; it had successfully twisted the lid a quarter-turn. Loki watched as that rotten maw got closer and closer, smelling the stench from its throat.
"No! NO!" At this moment, Loki desperately missed his Frost Giant body that he had previously despised—even the diaper-wearing Odin body was better than being digested by a zombie!
"HELP! ANYONE! HELP ME—!!"
Loki was scared out of his wits.
In his panic, he cried out for help.
And just then, suddenly—
*BANG—!*
A gunshot tore through the silence. A bullet accurately pierced the zombie's temple. The thermos fell from stiff fingers, bouncing twice on the frozen ground before the lid finally popped off.
The pale blue soul felt like it had been granted a reprieve and lunged out of the bottle!
"Thank you! My savior!" Loki was ecstatic. His voice was full of gratitude. "I, Loki Laufeyson, King of Frost Giants, exiled Lord of the Nine Realms, owe you a life today! Help me reclaim my body and return to Asgard, and I shall name you—"
Loki was about to play the classic Farmer and the Snake role, plotting how to seize his savior's body and kill his way back, when another glass jar descended from the sky.
It accurately pinned the exiled lord back to the ground!
"..."
Loki's expression froze.
A scruffy wizard crouched down, using the Cloak of Levitation to wipe the jar. "Let's see... a talking blue ghost? Page 700 of the *Index of Magical Creatures* seems to have a record..."
He seemed very curious, studying Loki's life form.
Seeing that the other person looked like a sorcerer.
Loki's heart sank, but he immediately put on a tragic victim face and began painting grand promises. "Respected Sorcerer! I am Loki Laufeyson, the Destroyer of Asgard, the legitimate ruler of the Nine Realms! I was harmed by a lunatic calling himself an evil god, which is why I've fallen to this state."
"He stole my body, imprisoned my soul, and took my empire. Now, I only ask for your help to find my stolen body."
"If you help me get it back so I can return to my throne, I shall name you the Grand Sorcerer of the Nine Realms, granting you infinite mana and control over time and space!" Loki fabricated a story where he was the King of the Nine Realms betrayed by a villain, focusing his curses on the "villain" who had brought him to this point.
He spoke with great passion.
He even squeezed out a few soul-tears.
"Hmm?"
The scruffy sorcerer's expression grew increasingly strange as he listened. He seemed to realize something. Trembling, he pulled a crumpled photo from his cloak.
"Does the villainous god you mentioned look like this?" In the photo, Ian was hugging a thick-thighed Spider-Man, both of them standing in front of the Sanctum Sanctorum flashing peace signs.
Loki saw the photo and was overjoyed!
Wasn't that the lunatic teenager who stole his body?!
"Yes! That's him! That's the bastard! He ruined everything! If you help me—" Loki thought the ragged Doctor Strange also had a grudge against Ian.
However, just as he nodded frantically, he was interrupted again.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH—!!!"
Doctor Strange suddenly erupted in ecstatic screams, jumping in place, his beard trembling. "I knew it! I knew he still remembered me! He still remembers me, his follower!"
At this moment.
Loki's expression froze on his face.
"God Ian! It's God Ian!" Doctor Strange hugged the jar, his scruffy face pressing against the glass until it distorted. "Where is he? I knew he wouldn't abandon his first Saint!"
Doctor Strange shook the jar frantically.
"Speak! Is God Ian here to save me? Is he taking me back to the main universe?" He was incredibly emotional. Yes, this sorcerer was the very first Sorcerer Supreme to get lost in a black hole.
Doctor Strange.
From Loki's words, he had found clues pointing to the only existence of its kind in the universe. Only the evil god he knew could pull off those kinds of maneuvers.
Facing Doctor Strange's questioning, Loki's soul trembled. Realizing something was wrong, he found it hard to respond. He began to realize a very serious problem.
Indeed.
Doctor Strange was overjoyed, a clear religious fanatic.
"God Ian! God Ian! Where are you! It's Little Strange! I'm your earliest disciple! Your right-hand man! I've made instant noodles for you! I've written flyers for you! You promised to give me the 'Level 10 Church Admin' medal—!" Doctor Strange was in tears.
He held the photo high.
He screamed frantically in all directions.
"Lord! Return! Your Little Strange is waiting for you!"
"Oh! This is the salvation mentioned in the Bible!"
"I knew he cared most about me, his follower!"
...
The pious Doctor Strange was shouting. Although none of his words brought a response from Ian, they hit Loki—who realized he had run into a lunatic fan—like a thunderbolt.
He began to review his previous curses, his soul-shell trembling. Even without casting a spell for divination, the disgraced exiled lord realized things were looking bad.
They say when a person feels they are about to die, they experience a final
burst of clarity. Right now, the shivering Loki felt his perceptive abilities peaking.
He heard Thor's breaking screams in the distance.
Yes.
At this moment, the most broken person wasn't Loki, but Thor, who had to hand-raise his own father.
...
Thor really didn't know how to change infant Odin's diaper.
But it was his dad.
Letting his dad soak in urine would definitely be considered a lack of filial piety. Thor felt his mother would scold him to death, so he could only bite the bullet and try to learn.
The usually gruff man muttered that it was no big deal—just like soaking up water from ingredients you're about to deep-fry—as his hands trembled while taking off Odin's pants.
He held a piece of scrap cloth torn from somewhere, his expression more solemn and cautious than when facing a powerful enemy, as if he were terrified of accidentally knocking off his father's plumbing.
Infant Odin lay on the blanket, his bare legs kicking in the air. His golden fuzz shimmered softly in the sunlight, looking innocent.
If you ignored what Thor was doing, even he would have praised his father for being valiant since infancy.
"Dad, don't move. Don't move." Thor's voice was shaky. "You're the All-Father... seriously, don't move!"
He didn't dare use force to pin down infant Odin's kicking legs.
Faced with Thor's pestering.
*Pshhh—*
A jet of water gave Thor a direct facial wash. Infant Odin responded to his son's call with practical action.
"..."
Thor's expression froze.
He took a towel handed to him by Gwen with a look of utter resignation—Ian had left Gwen and the others in a difficult spot before leaving. Now, the automatically hatched ice-sculpted Captain America and Gwen, after hearing Thor's description, felt complicated. They still found it hard to accept that the Odin of myth was currently urine-punishing his own son.
"So, this really is your father?"
Gwen's ability to process information had been trained by Ian many times, but even now, she found the level of abstraction hard to accept.
Cap rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his logic still somewhat normal: "If I punch him until he cries now, can I claim to be a man who defeated the King of Gods?"
As a soldier, he naturally had a bit of a competitive streak.
"You dare!" Thor spun around, glaring, still clutching the cloth soaked in unmentionable substances. "I swear by the name of the God of Thunder, if you touch a hair on my father's finger—I'll dismantle your fingers!"
His voice was loud, like thunder.
"WAAAAAA—!!"
Infant Odin suddenly burst into tears, his little face turning red. Thor panicked instantly, clumsily picking up the baby. "Dad! Dad, say something! What's wrong? Are you hungry? Do you remember me? Why aren't you talking? Did that lunatic give you amnesia?"
The baby's crying grew louder. Small fists flailed, even trying to grab Thor's beard to put in his mouth. Clearly, he was hungry.
"It's over..." Thor murmured in despair. "My dad has probably gone senile."
"Don't worry." Gwen sighed, stepping forward to check. "An infant's vocal cords aren't fully developed. Even if he has the ability to speak, he can't do it now."
She had quite a bit of biological knowledge, being a girl who inherited memories of a previous era.
"Is that so?" Thor looked miserable, still not quite believing Gwen's judgment. "But his eyes don't look like he recognizes me... He just tried to use his mouth to nurse from me."
At this, his eyes suddenly lit up, looking at Gwen pitifully. "Gwen, can you lend my dad some milk? I'll pay you back a hundredfold when we get back."
This was clearly a question only the dimwitted son of a rich landlord could ask.
"????"
Gwen was hit like a thunderbolt, her entire face turning bright red.
"You—what kind of nonsense are you saying!!" She really felt Thor's "money-can-buy-anything" approach was misplaced. Was that something you could borrow and return? This God of Thunder had truly been infected by Ian's psychiatric way of thinking!
"Then wouldn't Gwen be your dad's wet nurse? What would you have to call her?" Cap was beside them, shoulders shaking as he tried to stifle a laugh, not forgetting to stoke the fires.
"..."
Thor realized the impropriety then, but his concern was in the wrong direction—he just didn't want Gwen to be his father's wet nurse.
"Steve Rogers!!" Gwen was mortified. She raised her hand, her Welcome Web ready to fire at Cap's face to turn him into a true faceless man.
"I'm still a girl! How could I have milk! You're both idiots!!" She stamped her feet in rage, feeling her teammates were both major morons.
"Eh?"
Cap finally seemed to access correct biological knowledge. His gaze was a bit blank. After coming to his senses, he immediately gave a sheepish laugh.
"Don't cry, Dad, don't cry." Thor held the crying baby helplessly, sweat pouring down his face. "What do I do... none of the books my father made me study mentioned how to raise a baby."
Just as everyone was at a loss—
*Crack.*
Another sound of ice breaking. Everyone turned.
From the ruins of Morgan Stark's ice-sculpted jet, a figure slowly walked out. Her armor was intact, her eyes clear; she had clearly been awake for a long time, possibly listening to the whole thing. She walked into the wreckage, searched for a bit, and pulled out a Winnie the Pooh baby bottle, the bottle still steaming.
"Here." The girl handed the bottle to Thor. "While it's hot."
"Thank you, thank you. This isn't your milk, is it? You don't look like you're in lactation... Sorry, I've killed too many cows, I always get humans and dairy cows mixed up." Thor took it like a precious treasure. He had wanted to deduce the source of the milk, but seeing Morgan's speechless expression, he immediately changed his tune.
He truly meant nothing by it. Although he had lived in the human world for a long time, the prince—who hadn't even had his first romantic awakening—didn't quite understand human mammals.
Knowing he'd misspoken, he shut up and carefully tucked the bottle into infant Odin's mouth. The little guy stopped crying immediately and began to suckle, his face full of satisfaction.
"It's actually hot milk made from formula." Cap sniffed the milk scent in the air, staring at Morgan in shock. "How... how do you have this?"
He didn't understand why Morgan could find such a thing in the wreckage of armor that had already been pried open and visited by someone—unless she always carried formula or hot milk when traveling.
Faced with Cap's question, Morgan Stark didn't hide it. Instead, she looked like it was perfectly natural. "I'm not even an adult yet, of course I drink formula occasionally. You should be glad Uncle Ian didn't find this bottle before he left, or Uncle Thor's dad would have nothing to drink."
At these words.
Morgan didn't notice the strange looks from the others as she pulled a pack of diapers from her armor's storage compartment. "Here, take these too. Strawberry scented."
Thor took the diapers, looking at the sleeping infant Odin in his arms. He suddenly felt the world was surreal.
"Morgan..." He hesitated but couldn't help asking, "Do you always carry these with you?"
Morgan tilted her head. "Uncle Ian said to be fully prepared when traveling the world." She pulled out a pile of more things from her armor. "See? There are baby wipes, pacifiers, fever reducers..."
The scene went silent.
Gwen: "..."
Cap: "..."
The two looked at each other and simultaneously reached a conclusion—this was definitely a child raised by Ian. Not only did she understand Ian, but even her biological habits were abnormal.
Perhaps this was what Ian taught? So Morgan Stark thought it was normal?
"Doesn't Tony have time to look after his own daughter? Even if Tony is busy, Tony's wife should... fine, his wife runs the entire Stark Group."
Gwen thought for a moment. She seemed to figure something out—perhaps Morgan Stark was closer to Ian because she had spent more time with him as a child than with her parents.
"If that's the case..." Gwen was a bit startled, looking at Morgan Stark with flickering eyes. She felt that behind Morgan's seemingly normal personality might lie some unknown eccentricities. After all, if someone was that close to an evil god, how could they be normal?
One could see clues from the things Morgan carried.
While Gwen was curious about Morgan, Thor was feeding his dad and Cap was helping—Thor had just pulled the nipple from infant Odin's mouth.
Suddenly.
He heard a sound like glass shattering in the air. Everyone looked up alertly. Space peeled away ten meters away like a broken mirror, and an orange portal spiraled open—more mechanical than Kamar-Taj's portals, its edges flashing with electronic-like patterns.
"Finally here!" Cap jumped up excitedly. "It must be Doctor Strange's portal."
His eyes might not be working well.
Twelve fully armed soldiers stepped out of the portal. It wasn't Doctor Strange.
The black uniforms of these people bore a strange "TVA" insignia. The leader was a plump woman holding a glowing tablet, her sharp gaze sweeping over everyone.
"B-15, confirming coordinates," she said into her headset. "Seems to be a standard timeline error."
The device in her hand locked onto Thor, Gwen, Cap, and Odin.
"Anomalies identified." She didn't seem to be talking to anyone present.
Gwen's spider-sense went into overdrive. She instinctively took a fighting stance. "Who are you?"
Gwen acted as if facing a great enemy. The Black woman didn't even blink.
"Dear, you don't need to know who I am." She snapped her fingers, and all the soldiers raised strangely shaped weapons. "You only need to know that I represent the Time Variance Authority, and you are under arrest for crimes against the Sacred Timeline."
The woman suddenly raised her voice. "Hands up!"
It was a command. Cap's tactical mind instantly analyzed three escape plans—and then rejected all of them. These people's equipment was too unfamiliar to gauge.
"Ha! Dammit!" Thor's annoyed laughter broke the tension. He held infant Odin in one arm, Mjolnir spinning into an electric blur in the other.
"I've had enough of you mysterious people! This is the Nine Realms, the domain of Asgard!" Lightning wreathed his body. "Not just any random person can come here and enforce the law!"
He seemed to want to defend his nation's sovereignty.
"No. 7642, execute pruning protocol." The woman sighed.
The soldier in the front raised a weapon like a glowstick.
*Zzzzz—*
A blue light flashed, and Thor suddenly turned into a character in a slow-motion movie.
His angry roar was stretched into a comical low-frequency hum. The action of raising his hammer was so slow it looked like it would take a year to complete. The milk bubbles infant Odin spat out hung in the air, refracting rainbow light.
"Now." The woman walked up to Gwen, playfully flicking her chin. "Anyone else want to be a hero?"
Her words carried the arrogance of someone in complete control. Three pairs of hands went up simultaneously—Cap, Gwen, and even Morgan were as well-behaved as elementary schoolers in class.
"Wise choice." She turned and waved to the soldiers. "Take Anomalies A-113 (Cap), A-114 (Gwen), and A-115 (Thor and attached infant)."
As the temporal shackles snapped onto his wrists, Cap suddenly noticed something.
"Wait, what about that girl?" He pointed at Morgan.
Morgan also pointed at herself. "Yeah, what about me?"
She sounded like she felt left out. Her tone was resentful.
However.
The woman glanced at her tablet, ignored Morgan and Cap, and led the restocked anomalies into the portal. All the mysterious soldiers vanished from the ruined city.
"Hey!" Morgan rushed forward to grab the woman's arm.
She failed.
"Why didn't you arrest me..."
The portal closed in front of her.
The world returned to silence once more.