When Nick Fury and the others finally left Luke's grocery store, they did so with arms full of random merchandise, and wallets significantly lighter.
Wanda, of course, had expertly fleeced them all with her signature smile.
But strangely… none of them seemed upset.
They left with smiles, nods, and even a little spring in their step.
With a hammer he could no longer use, he had bartered for two items that had captured his heart at first sight: a massive, thunder-forged axe, and a shimmering, red-and-gold cape that fluttered behind him like a royal banner in the wind.
To him, it was the perfect exchange, a true bargain.
S.H.I.E.L.D. Ground Headquarters
Thor stood outside the compound, saying farewell to the Avengers.
The enormous Stormbreaker rested against his shoulder, and the new cape billowed dramatically behind him, its reflective golden threads catching the sun and nearly blinding everyone in its path.
Ridiculous was an understatement.
But Thor himself looked completely pleased, chin high, radiant with pride.
The rest of the Avengers stood around him, trying desperately to hold in their laughter.
Tony's face was turning beet red from the effort.
Even Bruce had to bite his knuckle to stop from chuckling.
But no one wanted to be disrespectful, at least not until Thor was gone.
Only Loki, standing nearby in full restraints and with a gag over his mouth, wasn't trying not to laugh.
But it wasn't because he was trying to be polite.
He simply couldn't. He was currently restrained with special handcuffs and gagged to prevent him from annoying everyone.
Still, his green eyes were narrowed in pure disdain as they scanned his brother's absurd outfit, especially that cape, which looked like it had been made from a Las Vegas curtain.
If Loki could speak, he would've mocked Thor until the man went into hiding.
At last, Thor turned to the group with a parting grin and saluted.
Then he pressed a small device in his hand, a Tesseract controller.
In a flash of blue light, both Thor and Loki vanished from Earth in a beam of cosmic energy.
As soon as they disappeared, the laughter erupted.
Tony doubled over, wheezing.
Bruce leaned on a nearby vehicle for support, he felt like he had been close to unleashing the Hulk because of holding his laugh too hard.
Even Steve cracked a smile.
The only one who didn't laugh was Clint Barton, who frowned slightly and adjusted the gloves he'd bought from the grocery store.
"I don't get it," he said plainly. "What's so funny?"
Bruce wiped a tear from his eye. "Clint… did you not see the disco cape?"
Clint shrugged. "It's not that bad. I think it actually suits him."
That silenced the laughter.
Tony Stark's head snapped toward Barton like a hunting hawk.
"Wait, wait. You're not joking?"
Clint shook his head, dead serious. "Nope. Honestly, I think he's finally found his style."
Bruce blinked slowly. "…You okay, man?"
Tony stepped closer and squinted at Barton like he was inspecting a strange creature.
"Do you have a fever?" he asked, reaching out to feel Clint's forehead. "Wait, did the cape blind your sense of fashion?"
Clint stepped back, confused. "Maybe it's you guys who have bad taste."
His tone wasn't sarcastic. He was genuinely baffled that they didn't agree with him.
A quiet sense of unease settled in the air.
Steve stepped forward, his face thoughtful. "Should we… take him to a psychiatrist?"
Back in his army days, he'd seen soldiers fall under strange psychological states because of war trauma. This looked suspiciously familiar.
But Natasha shook her head with a faint smile, her arms crossed.
"Forget it. A psychiatrist can't cure what he's got."
She glanced at Clint again, her smile turning a little more wistful.
"It'll wear off in a few days. Trust me."
Before they could press her for more, she turned and walked away, as if she'd just shut a door on that conversation forever. She didn't want to remember that dark episode in her life.
Thor's return home did not go as smoothly.
First, he escorted Loki to Asgard's prison, thankfully still gagged, though his glares were venomous.
Then Thor made his way directly to the palace to meet his parents.
He strolled confidently into the throne hall, Stormbreaker slung over one shoulder, his new cape trailing behind him like a banner of pride.
But the moment Frigga laid eyes on him, her expression froze.
"Thor, son" she said, slowly walking toward him, "what… are you wearing?"
The sequins on his cape sparkled like a disco ball under the palace lights.
Thor didn't seem to hear the concern in her voice.
At least, that's what he thought.
"Mother!" he beamed, spinning slowly in place like a model. "Isn't it magnificent?"
Frigga stared, stunned.
She reached up to touch his forehead, half expecting to find it burning with fever.
But it was cool. Perfectly normal.
She turned to Odin, silently begging for backup.
But her husband was already on his feet, glaring at their son like he had just walked in wearing a clown suit.
Odin's voice rang like thunder as he raised Gungnir, his great spear, and struck the ground.
The sound echoed through the throne room like a cannon blast.
Thor immediately straightened, his smile vanishing. His posture stiffened like a schoolboy caught misbehaving.
It meant his father was furious.
"Thor," Odin's voice echoed, stern and cold. "Where is your weapon?"
Thor lifted Stormbreaker proudly with one hand.
"Right here, Father. This is Stormbreaker! A mighty axe forged…"
Odin struck the ground again.
Frigga flinched and took two cautious steps back.
He could feel sweat gathering on the back of his neck.
"I asked about Mjölnir," Odin snapped. "Not that… lump of metal you're holding."
His voice was filled with restrained fury, and the air in the throne room turned cold.
Thor blinked, confused.
"But… I traded Mjölnir for this! And not just this, I also got the cape. Two items for one! It's a great deal!"