CHAPTER 222: CHAPTER 223: ODIN’S TRANSFORMATION

"Thor?"

"Thor?"

"THOR!"

In the rowdy Asgardian tavern, Thor sat dazed, savoring a vintage brew from two thousand years ago, completely ignoring the raccoon beside him who kept calling his name. Left with no other choice, the raccoon deployed its ultimate weapon, a loud slap across Thor’s face!

SMACK!

The sound was sharp and echoing, drawing the attention of every Asgardian nearby, who all turned to look.

"Uh... if I say we were flirting, would you believe me?"

The raccoon, Rocket, instantly shrank back under the fierce, questioning gazes of dozens of battle-hardened Asgardians.

This wasn’t the Asgard of two thousand years later, softened by peace and blissful ignorance of war. No, this was the era when Odin’s iron leadership and a culture of fierce valor were what elevated Asgard to reign over the Nine Realms.

"Hey, buddy. That obnoxious thing yours?"

Though none of them recognized the slapped man, Thor’s distinctly Asgardian features were enough to make several patrons step in, drunkenly, but ready to help.

"Him?"

"Of course, brother. I appreciate your taste," Thor raised his cup to the staggering stranger, passively acknowledging that Rocket was his... pet.

"Pet?"

"Me?!"

Rocket’s eyes narrowed dangerously at the sudden designation. A dangerous gleam flashed in his eyes, so menacing that the seasoned warriors of Asgard felt the chill in their bones and instinctively raised their guard.

"Hey, sorry, buddy. My pet’s got a bit of a temper. Just got pulled off the frontlines, you know how it is. Probably still adjusting," Thor quickly stood and pulled Rocket close before things got out of hand.

They had crossed two thousand years for something serious. If they caused a scene and Odin figured out their identities, it’d be game over.

Altering history, especially history from two millennia ago, was a gamble no sane god would make. Who knew what kind of catastrophic ripple effects it might cause?

"Frontlines?"

"You from Princess Hela’s 7th Legion?"

As warriors currently enduring the tail end of the Nine Realms War, anything involving the "frontlines" immediately caught their attention.

"Princess Hela...?"

"No, I’m with the 1st Legion’s Vanguard Strike Force," Thor answered without hesitation. "Thor. 1st Legion Vanguard."

He knew Asgardian military structure like the back of his hand. And technically, he wasn’t lying, he did join that unit 1,300 years later.

"I’ve only just returned."

"To the hero!"

"To the hero!"

"To the—!"

The moment they heard the name of his unit, every Asgardian around raised their mugs in salute. Any soldier who returned alive from the front deserved such honor.

Thor raised his cup too, but as he looked at their smiling faces, something heavy twisted in his chest.

A hero?

Was he really worthy of that title?

Downing the rest of his drink in a single gulp, Thor sank deeper into his thoughts.

"Thor, we should go."

Now calmer, Rocket finally jumped off the table and nudged Thor’s foot, signaling it was time to leave.

He never should’ve agreed to come to this tavern.

He regretted it deeply.

"Let’s go, rabbit."

Thor, unsteady on his feet, tossed several large coins on the table and staggered out of the tavern.

"Rabbit? Me?!"

Rocket froze. He hadn’t heard that nickname in ages. Gritting his teeth, he leapt up onto Thor’s shoulder and smacked him across the face, twice.

"Hey! No roughhousing in the streets!"

A Valkyrie, clad in standard-issue armor, called out. Thor nodded respectfully.

"Valkyries... everywhere..."

Thor’s gaze drifted toward the royal palace.

Soon, all these Valkyries would fall at the hands of his sister... all but one.

"What are you thinking, Thor?"

"I’m warning you, don’t even think about changing history."

Back at their temporary quarters, Rocket found Thor still staring blankly, clutching a bottle.

"Your sister, and that brother-in-law of yours, they’re both bad news."

"Brother-in-law? I don’t acknowledge him." Thor, pulled out of his daze, took a few more swigs and muttered under his breath.

There was no avoiding calling Hela his sister, blood was blood. But Lothar? No way. He wouldn’t accept that guy as family.

Thor touched his cheek and his right arm, as if still feeling the pain from past beatings.

Besides, the wedding hadn’t even started before it was already a disaster. Odin had even canceled it outright.

And that was what Thor could never understand, why did Odin change his mind so suddenly?

What happened at this point in time?

That question haunted Thor, especially when he saw the sheer rage in Hela’s eyes in the future.

"Stop thinking and put this on."

Rocket handed over a small device he’d prepped in advance.

It was developed jointly by Tony Stark and Dr. Banner, specifically designed to shield them from the effects of the spatial turbulence that would strike Asgard seven days later. It would ensure they could extract the rogue Flerken safely.

...

Asgard, Royal Palace.

Hela, forcibly recalled by Heimdall’s powers, stood before Odin and gave a respectful bow.

"Father."

In the guest seat to the left of the throne sat Lothar, watching coldly. Behind him stood The Other, cradling the Flerken.

"I don’t understand," Hela said flatly.

"We’re clearly stronger, so why are we drawing up a peace treaty with Jotunheim?"

She couldn’t understand her father at all.

Jotunheim was the last realm resisting Asgard’s supremacy. It wouldn’t even be a challenge. Once her power grew just a little more, she could sweep it away in one campaign.

But now?

Odin wasn’t holding the line. He was initiating a so-called peace treaty?

What?!

Was this even her father?

"Hela, that’s an order."

Odin’s tone was unyielding, so much so, it unsettled Hela.

"But, Father—"

"That’s enough. This discussion is over."

"You’re to remain in Asgard for the time being. Do not involve yourself further."

There was no room for argument. Odin’s commanding tone sealed the matter.

"Lothar, Heimdall will escort you out."

Turning to his guest, Odin’s tone softened.

"I’ll have a word with your father about what’s going on between you and Hela."

At this moment, Odin was every bit the absolute monarch, neither Lothar nor Hela dared speak out.

Not that Lothar had any intention to.

He was silent, but deeply unsettled.

Odin’s behavior was... strange.

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