[Asgard - The Bifrost Observatory]
"Thor Odinson!"
Odin's voice boomed with the weight of thunder, shaking the very foundations of the golden observatory.
"In the name of my father, and of all my ancestors! I, Odin, King of Asgard... order you to be banished!"
Amidst a blinding burst of celestial golden light, the majestic armor on Thor's body violently shattered. Stripped of his power and his divine birthright, his mortal body fell backward into the howling spatial vortex of the Bifrost, vanishing from the realm.
The roaring bridge powered down, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.
From the shadows of the observatory, Queen Frigga stepped out. Her eyes were red. She stared blankly at the scorched rune on the floor where her son had just been standing.
"You banished him to Midgard just like that," Frigga whispered, her voice trembling. "He is still but a child, Odin. He is not yet mature."
"This is his trial," Odin replied, leaning heavily on Gungnir. "The King of Asgard cannot merely be a brave warrior who is good at slaughter. I hope... I hope that he can grow."
Standing in the center of the room, Odin did not seem surprised by his wife's presence. In Asgard, no one could approach the All-Father without his knowledge. Though his weathered face remained an unreadable mask of authority, the agonizing anxiety in his heart was no less than hers.
However, Odin was terrified not only for Thor's safety, but for the dark future he had foreseen. Ragnarok was approaching Asgard, and down in Midgard, the ancient Dragon Race had already begun to stir.
Absolute chaos was coming to the Nine Realms. And the heir to the throne was still so dangerously green.
[Midgard - Puente Antiguo, New Mexico]
After a bizarre, localized super-storm the night before, word quickly spread that a meteor had crashed on the outskirts of the desert town. There weren't many exciting things to do in Puente Antiguo, so hunting for the impact crater quickly became the hottest topic of conversation at the local diner.
Meanwhile, inside the sterile halls of the town hospital, astrophysicist Jane Foster and her intern, Darcy Lewis, were nervously filling out intake forms at the nurse's station.
"Name?" the nurse asked, chewing gum.
"I heard him call himself Thor," Jane offered, wincing slightly.
While driving out to collect atmospheric data during the storm, Jane, Darcy, and Dr. Erik Selvig had experienced the profound misfortune of hitting a fully grown man with their research van. Even more unfortunately, after surviving the vehicular impact, the confused, rambling man was then promptly knocked unconscious by Darcy with a high-voltage taser.
Their research was completely derailed. The trio had to urgently rush the massive, unconscious blonde man to the emergency room.
Just as Jane was handing the clipboard back to the nurse, a terrified doctor's scream echoed from down the hall.
Jane, Erik, and Darcy exchanged wide-eyed looks, a shared flash of dread passing between them. They sprinted down the corridor to the treatment room.
Inside, a one-versus-many, real-man brawl was taking place.
Pinned against the medical cabinets by four burly hospital security guards, Thor Odinson fought like a caged tiger, shouting with all his might.
"You are no match for the mighty Thor!"
However, human pharmacology proved stronger than Asgardian pride. Under the heavy effect of a sedative injection to the thigh, Thor's eyes rolled back, and he peacefully drifted off into dreamland.
* * * While Thor was being sedated, a massive crowd of locals had gathered in the desert outside of town. They hadn't found a meteorite. They had found something much more interesting.
A hammer.
It was an intricately carved, square-headed hammer embedded deep inside a crater of fused glass.
A spontaneous strongman competition had broken out. Pick-up trucks, chains, and the burliest men in the county had all taken their turns, but not a single person could lift the weapon a fraction of an inch from the earth.
Back at the hospital, Thor awoke. Having experienced the humiliating sting of Midgardian 'magic' (a syringe), the clever prince chose not to start another fistfight. Instead, he quietly slipped out the window.
By the time Jane and her team rushed back to his ward with his test results, the hospital bed was empty.
"We have to find him," Jane said, her eyes alight with realization. After reviewing the atmospheric data, she had connected the dots. Thor hadn't wandered into the desert by mistake; he had arrived inside the Einstein-Rosen Bridge. The answers to her life's work were tied directly to that strange, violent man.
The trio sprinted to the van and sped away from the hospital.
[The Local Tavern]
While Jane searched the streets, Thor had already wandered into a very lively, smoky local tavern.
Compared to the sterile, hostile hospital environment, this bustling atmosphere was undeniably more to Thor's liking. The smell of roasted meat and spilled alcohol made him feel like he had finally returned home.
"A drink!" Thor commanded, slamming his hand on the wooden bar.
The bartender raised an eyebrow, casually sliding a large, sloshing mug of cheap draft beer across the counter. He gave the muscular man in hospital scrubs a deeply strange look.
"What a hell of a day," the bartender muttered, wiping down the counter with a dirty rag. "Not only is there a talking pig in the corner, but now I've got a guy cosplaying as a mental patient."
Thor didn't know what 'cosplay' meant, but the mention of a pig coming in for a drink instantly piqued his interest. His blue eyes scanned the crowded tavern.
Sure enough, sitting on a barstool in the darkest corner of the room, a tiny, round, pink pig was aggressively flapping its large ears. It was muttering something entirely incomprehensible over a plate of leftover fries.
"Yo!" Thor boomed, striding over with great familiarity and taking the stool next to the pig. He slammed his mug onto the table. "I am Thor Odinson! Tell me, which world do you hail from, talking pig? Do such strange creatures as you actually exist within the Nine Realms?"
The pig stopped chewing. It slowly turned its snout toward Thor, its eyes narrowing with immense offense.
"How rude!" the pig squealed in a high-pitched, surprisingly articulate voice. "What do you mean 'talking pig'?! I am the Captain of the Order of Scraps Disposal! My name is Hawk!"
"Hahahaha!"
Hawk's crisp, indignant introduction made Thor burst into a booming, hearty belly laugh. Since being banished to this strange, weak world, this absurd little creature was the first fellow who made him feel a genuine sense of kinship. Although everyone else in the tavern was human, Thor felt completely out of place with them.
Thor lifted his heavy glass mug, draining the entire liter of beer in one massive, uninterrupted gulp.
"Good ale!" Thor bellowed, a massive grin on his face. "Another!"
CRASH.
Thor violently dashed the heavy glass mug onto the wooden floor, shattering it into dozens of pieces.
"Eh!!!" Hawk shrieked, jumping three feet in the air as glass rained down around his hooves.
Thor's boisterous laughter and Hawk's startled cry rang out simultaneously.
However, the tavern's bustling noise instantly died. The jukebox seemed to skip a beat. Every single patron stopped what they were doing and turned their hostile gazes toward the man and the pig in the corner.
The bartender walked out from behind the counter, gripping a heavy wooden baseball bat.
"Sir!" the bartender growled, his eyes dark. "Are you here to cause trouble?"
The moment the words left his mouth, four burly bikers drinking at the adjacent table stood up in tacit understanding, cracking their knuckles. A heavy, suffocating pressure filled the room.
Hawk was already shivering with fear, hiding his snout behind his trotters. But Thor, completely unable to read a normal social situation, felt absolutely no threat.
"Cause trouble?" Thor asked genuinely, brushing glass off his pants. "Of course not. I just think your ale here is truly excellent! A warrior's compliment!"
Thor's earnest, booming praise caused the expressions of the bartender and the surrounding patrons to soften considerably. The bikers exchanged confused glances and slowly sat back down. The bartender sighed, lowering the bat and silently pulling out a broom to clean up the mess.
"Fifty bucks for the glass," the bartender grunted, pointing the broom handle at Thor's chest. "You pay for the damage first, then you order more drinks."
"Hahaha, of course! No problem!" Thor's hearty voice rang out. He reached confidently into the pockets of his stolen hospital scrubs.
He patted his chest. He patted his thighs.
Thor looked up, his smile freezing slightly.
"It appears... I didn't bring any coin today," Thor admitted, puffing out his chest proudly. "But do not worry, innkeeper! Once I return to Asgard, I shall surely reward you many times over with gold and—!"
THUD.
The heavy tavern doors swung open violently. The pair—one massive blonde man and one tiny pink pig—were unceremoniously hurled out into the dusty street, landing face-first in the dirt.
The doors slammed shut behind them.
At least, Hawk thought as he spat out a mouthful of sand, he hadn't been turned into a roasted suckling pig. Thor simply pushed himself up, dusting off his scrubs, a few more bruises added to his royal face.
"So, the one who drank and ate without paying was clearly you!" Hawk shrieked indignantly, stomping his little hooves in the dirt. "Why in the world was I thrown out along with you?!"
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