Thor didn't move right away.
But something about him changed.
The arrogance didn't disappear.
It sharpened.
"You compare me to something from your world," Thor said, his voice lower now, more focused. "And still you stand there as if this is nothing more than a test."
Lord met his gaze.
"It is," he said.
That answer didn't provoke anger this time.
It confirmed something.
Thor exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders once as lightning began to gather again—this time not as a reaction, but as intent.
"Then I will give you something worth testing," Thor said.
The air shifted.
Lightning didn't just strike this time.
It stayed.
It wrapped around him, arcing across his body in controlled bursts, the ground beneath his feet cracking under the pressure of it.
The difference was immediate.
Lord noticed it.
"…Better," he said quietly.
Thor moved.
This time, there was no restraint.
He closed the distance faster than before, but not just with speed—there was weight behind it now, force layered with something more controlled, more deliberate.
Lord didn't step back.
He met it.
The moment Thor entered his range, the space around them distorted—not enough to stop the attack, but enough to shift it.
Thor adjusted.
Mid-motion.
His strike curved with the distortion, correcting itself, forcing its way through the altered space.
That was new.
The impact landed.
The ground beneath them fractured violently, a shockwave tearing outward from the point of contact.
Lord held his position—but this time, the force carried through him, pushing him back further than before.
He stopped himself, steadying.
Then looked up.
"…That's an improvement," he said.
Thor didn't respond.
He was already moving again.
This time, he didn't strike immediately.
He raised his hand.
And the sky answered.
Lightning gathered above them, not scattered, not reactive—focused.
Directed.
Then it came down.
Not a single strike.
Multiple.
Controlled.
Each one aimed.
Lord moved through them—not untouched, but unbothered, adjusting the space around him just enough to redirect the majority, absorbing the rest without resistance.
But he was watching more closely now.
Learning.
"…You're adapting too," Lord said.
Thor stepped forward through the fading light, his expression set.
"I am not some lesser being for you to measure," he said. "You will take this seriously."
Lord's gaze met his.
"…I am," he replied.
That was the closest thing to acknowledgment Thor had gotten.
It wasn't enough.
Thor extended his hand—
And something shifted.
Not just energy.
Presence.
A pull.
A call.
Lord felt it immediately.
"…A secondary source," he said.
Before it could fully manifest—
The sky split.
Not with lightning.
With something else.
A beam of energy tore through the air, striking between them with enough force to separate the space itself.
The Bifrost.
Both of them stopped.
Thor looked up instantly.
"No…" he said.
The energy intensified, surrounding him before he could move.
"Father—wait—" Thor started.
But it didn't matter.
The Bifrost took him.
In an instant—
He was gone.
Silence followed.
The energy faded.
The distortion settled.
The space returned to normal.
Lord stood where he was.
Unmoved.
"…Interrupted," he said.
There was no frustration in it.
Only observation.
Then—
A faint shift in his expression.
Interest.
"That wasn't his doing," he said.
It had come from somewhere else.
Higher.
That made it relevant.
Far from Earth—
In Asgard—
Thor landed hard, the Bifrost releasing him into the golden halls with far less grace than usual.
"Father!" Thor called immediately, turning as the energy faded. "Why was I—"
"Enough."
Odin didn't raise his voice.
He didn't need to.
The command carried through the hall instantly.
Thor stopped.
Not by force.
By presence.
"You were warned," Odin said.
Thor straightened slightly, frustration still clear.
"And I acted," Thor replied. "There is a threat on Midgard—"
"I am aware."
That cut him off.
Odin's gaze remained steady.
"And you are not prepared to face it."
That landed harder than any strike.
Thor's jaw tightened.
"I was handling it," he said.
"No," Odin replied. "You were escalating it."
Silence followed.
Not empty.
Heavy.
Elsewhere in the hall—
Loki watched.
Quiet.
Unnoticed.
A faint smile touched his expression.
Earlier—
"You felt it too," Loki had said, his tone careful, measured.
Thor had turned toward him.
"The disturbance?" Thor asked.
"Yes," Loki replied. "Father spoke of it… something outside the order of the realms."
Thor's expression had hardened.
"Then it should be dealt with," he said.
Loki tilted his head slightly.
"And yet he does nothing," Loki said. "Only watches."
That had been enough.
Thor's frustration had already been there.
Loki had simply—
Given it direction.
"If it threatens Midgard," Thor had said, "then I will act."
Loki hadn't stopped him.
He hadn't needed to.
Back in the present—
Loki's gaze remained fixed ahead.
Thoughtful.
Calculating.
"…Interesting," he said quietly.
Because now—
It wasn't just Thor who had seen it.
And that—
Changed everything.