Chapter 106: Pray to the Lucky Cat

Thor was eventually thrown into Asgard's prison, in the cell right next to Loki's. The glorious red-and-gold cape had been ripped to shreds by a livid Odin. The "Stormbreaker" he had so proudly wielded? Melted into a puddle of iron on the palace floor by a mere wave of Odin's spear. Thor sat in silence on the stone bench of his cell, staring down at his calloused hands. His expression was blank, but behind his eyes was nothing short of devastation. He didn't even resist. He couldn't. Odin's fury had been absolute, unyielding and terrifying. And even if Thor could fight him, he wouldn't. Thor might be reckless, but he was still a dutiful son. A prince. And Odin was still his father. Frigga had tried to intervene, her voice soft but desperate, but even she couldn't calm her husband when enraged. And so, Thor now sat right beside his brother. ... In the Depths of Asgard's Prison The cells were ancient, carved from obsidian and reinforced by runes older than memory. Energy walls buzzed softly, separating the prisoners. When Loki saw Thor being escorted in, his emerald eyes widened in delight. "Well, well..." Loki purred, lounging across the stone slab of his own cell like it was a velvet sofa. "Look who's joined the family reunion." Thor didn't reply. He merely slumped down onto the ground with a long, miserable exhale. Loki grinned and crossed one leg over the other. "Was it the cape?" he said innocently. "I told you that thing looked like something stolen from a parade float. Oh wait, I couldn't tell you because of the gag, how unfortunate for you, maybe I could have prevented this." Thor remained silent. "Or was it the axe? That glorious hunk of... oh, wait, knowing father, it must be molten scrap metal now, isn't it?" "Enough, Loki," Thor muttered, voice low. Loki pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. "Dear brother, I'm only concerned. After all, it's not every day you trade the divine symbol of Asgard's might for a pair of toys." Thor clenched his fists. "I thought it was a fair trade..." Loki burst into laughter, sharp and mocking. "A fair trade?! Oh, Thor, I haven't laughed like this in years. Truly, you have a heart of gold and a brain of stone." Thor turned his head, finally meeting Loki's eyes through the shimmering energy wall. "Say what you will, but Stormbreaker felt right in my hands. More than Mjölnir has in a long time." Loki tilted his head, still smirking, but there was a flicker of something else in his gaze, curiosity, perhaps even sympathy. "And now? Do the melted remains still whisper your name?" Thor grunted. "They whisper yours, I'm sure. Laugh all you want. You were chained, gagged, and now imprisoned... again." Loki grinned wider. "Yes, but at least I didn't fall for a glittering flea market scam." Thor groaned and leaned his head back against the cold wall, closing his eyes. "Just shut up, Loki." "Happily. I need to save my voice for the feast I'll be holding in my mind tonight. You're all invited." ... Meanwhile... Deep in the Palace A secret chamber, dimly lit by golden lanterns and lined with scrolls and starlit murals, held a solemn Odin, standing before a massive crystalline window. Beyond the glass, the stars stretched in endless silence. Odin stared into that void, his expression unreadable, yet deeply troubled. A knock echoed at the door. "Come in," Odin said quietly. The door opened with a low creak, and in stepped a tall figure clad in gold armor, his posture proud, his eyes glowing like suns. Heimdall, the guardian of the Bifrost and Odin's most trusted sentinel. He entered with quiet steps, standing patiently behind his king without speaking. Odin remained facing the stars for a long moment, hands clasped behind his back. Then, at last, he spoke. "What did you see in Midgard?" Heimdall's expression turned grave. "Much, my king. And none of it good." He paused, then stepped forward, voice low and steady. "Since the Chitauri invasion, I have monitored Midgard closely. Three events stand out, each connected to a single human." "A human?" Odin turned, one eyebrow raised. "Yes. His name is Luke Yale." Odin's brows furrowed. Heimdall continued. "The first incident: after a brief conflict with this man, Thor suddenly lost connection to Mjölnir. The hammer abandoned him and refused to respond." "Immediately afterward, this Luke picked it up as if it were weightless, and later passed it on to his companions." "The second event occurred in his grocery store. Two women, both close to Luke, handled Mjölnir with ease. One of them even wielded lightning through it." Odin's jaw tensed. "And the third?" he asked. "The most disturbing," Heimdall said, his voice dropping. "During the battle, a monstrous entity appeared, a being wrapped in green, necrotic energy. It raised the dead and controlled souls. An abomination, beyond our understanding." Odin's eyes darkened. "I saw it too," he admitted. "Even from here, I felt the... foulness of that energy." He crossed the chamber slowly, each step heavy with thought. "Have you traced its origin?" Heimdall shook his head. "Only that a green light erupted from Luke Yale's store just before the entity appeared. It is not of the Nine Realms. Of that, I am certain." Odin exhaled deeply, his shoulders heavy with unspoken weight. "This mortal..." he muttered, voice sharp with restrained fury. "He manipulated Thor. Robbed him of Mjölnir. Corrupted our weapon, and perhaps the balance of the realms." He slammed the butt of Gungnir into the floor. "I should meet him. Personally." But before Odin could say more... RUMBLE. The ground beneath his feet trembled. Then cracked. The ceiling above groaned, and collapsed. Chunks of marble and golden stone came crashing down. Odin barely had time to shout. "What in Hel...?!" Heimdall pulled him aside, but it was too fast. Within seconds, the glorious palace of Asgard, home of kings for millennia, was reduced to smoking rubble. Guards and servants screamed as they vanished beneath the wreckage. Even Odin and Frigga were not spared from the falling debris. ... Back in Luke's Grocery Store A system notification chimed in Luke's mind. [Ding~ Odin was rude to the host. His palace could no longer tolerate such disrespect and collapsed, burying the old man who lacked manners.] Luke sprang out of his gaming chair like he'd sat on a hot stove. "WHAT?!" His face paled. "Odin?! BURIED?!" He ran to the counter in a panic, knocking over a display of novelty mugs. "I've done everything to avoid pissing that old man off, and this happens anyway?!" He dropped to his knees in front of the small Lucky Cat statue on the shelf. "Lucky Cat... old friend, buddy, pal, have I ever treated you badly? No, right?" casually ignoring the times he threatened it with destruction... He scrambled behind the register and pulled out three incense sticks, lighting them quickly with trembling hands. Smoke curled upward as he planted them in a cup of instant noodles next to the cat. He bowed with both hands together. "Please. I don't ask for much. Just don't let Odin trace that mess back to me. You know I love you. I even cleaned your shelf last Tuesday." There's no religion in this home, money is their only god. And being the one who brings in the customers, the lucky cat is the equivalent of their patron saint. He sighed deeply, muttering as he lit another stick. He knows a simple palace collapse wouldn't really hurt someone like Odin, that overpowered old man. "Please don't let the Allfather come knocking on my door." ...