Watching Wanda and Sharon happily playing with Mjölnir like it was a novelty item from a toy store, Luke suddenly felt… thoughtful.
Something about this scene, the hammer glowing softly in his little sister's hands, Sharon flipping it like a baton, it seemed too perfect to ignore.
Three people live in this humble grocery store now.
And strangely enough, Mjölnir liked all three.
Luke rubbed his chin, eyes narrowing in amusement.
"Is this... destiny?" he murmured. "Has the hammer finally seen the light?"
There was no other explanation. The once-loyal relic of Asgard now wanted to stay in a cramped little building on 58th Street with a strange young man, his money-obsessed sister, and a deadly ex-agent who now folded laundry on the second floor.
Clearly, Mjölnir was defecting.
Luke wasn't a cruel man. He had a heart.
If the hammer wanted a new home, he'd welcome it with open arms. And if that meant a few creative arrangements, well...
He was more than up to the task.
"Wanda," he called, turning from the doorway with sudden resolve.
Wanda glanced up from where she and Sharon were squatting on the floor, trying to braid a ribbon onto Mjölnir's handle.
"I've got a mission for you," Luke said, already striding to the counter to fetch pen and paper.
Wanda's eyes sparkled. He'd picked her over Sharon, good.
She rushed over like an eager intern waiting for a promotion.
"What's the mission?" she asked, practically bouncing on her feet.
Luke paused, tapping the pen against his chin.
"First, I need you to go shopping."
Wanda tilted her head.
"A bright red cape. The flashier, the better. And find a blacksmith to make a big, heavy axe. The kind that looks like it could split a mountain in half. Make sure it's made of steel, or something that looks dangerous, at least. Oh, and tell them to carve some runes into the handle."
He scribbled on the paper furiously, tongue sticking slightly out of his mouth.
When he was done, he proudly handed over the page.
Wanda stared at the drawing that seemed like it was made by a toddler.
Then she flipped it upside down.
"…Brother," she said carefully. "Is this a… broom?"
Luke winced. "It's an axe, thank you very much. Stormbreaker, to be precise."
"Just trust me," he said, pushing the drawing toward her again. "Tell the blacksmith to go wild with it. The fiercer it looks, the better."
Wanda sighed, then folded the paper with a nod. "Okay. Cape, axe, weird ancient runes. Got it."
"Oh, and one more thing," Luke added, his eyes gleaming mischievously. "Put both of them on display in the most visible spot in the store. Then tag them with a price."
Wanda raised an eyebrow. "How much?"
He leaned in with a grin.
"Nine hundred billion."
"…this is a joke right?"
"No," he said firmly. "Trust me, just do as I say."
Wanda stared at him, mouth slightly open.
"Are we turning into a criminal organization? Because I need to mentally prepare for that."
"It's not a scam if someone's willing to pay."
This wasn't just a prank, it was a plan.
He didn't want to risk the wrath of Odin or the fury of Asgard by keeping Mjölnir through brute force. That would be theft.
But if Thor wanted to trade it for something he liked even more, well…
Odin couldn't come here complaining, after all it would have been his stupid son's fault for giving the hammer away.
Thor, the victim of Luke's schemes, sat on a large rock in the middle of a crater.
Around him, broken trees, fragments of the helicarrier, and scraps of torn metal littered the forest floor like oversized confetti.
Clouds swirled above. The floating helicarrier was already miles away.
He sighed, turning to the discarded boots beside him.
"…Why didn't I just take them off earlier?"
He still didn't know why the boots had suddenly grown heavier than Mjölnir itself, but he suspected foul play. A very familiar kind of foul play.
And speaking of which, his hammer.
Thor could feel it somewhere far away. But no matter how much he stretched out his hand, the hammer didn't respond.
It was like it had ghosted him.
Back in the sky, the battle aboard the helicarrier had finally ended.
The Hulk had torn through everything in his path before leaping off into the wilderness.
He had slipped away in a quinjet with Barton, scepter in hand, a satisfied smirk on his lips.
His plan was moving along nicely. He'd thrown the Avengers into disarray, nearly crashed S.H.I.E.L.D.'s flying fortress, and retrieved the mind scepter.
Now, it was time for the finale.
"Barton," Loki asked, settling into the co-pilot's seat, "Is the portal ready?"
Barton glanced at the display and smiled coldly. "All components are in place. We'll be ready to activate it by noon."
Loki's eyes sparkled with anticipation.
Soon, the skies over Earth would rip open, and the Chitauri army would descend.
The mortals would kneel.
And the world… would belong to him.
But even as he laughed, something gnawed at the back of his mind.
The one who had looked him in the eye, called him by name, and somehow knew things no one else should've known.
The one with the dog. The glasses. The weird car.
And now, his brother's hammer.
Maybe… just maybe… he should avoid that guy for a while.
Just a few kilometers from the soon-to-be battlefield, on a quiet corner of 58th Street, Luke leaned casually against the doorframe of his grocery store.
His hoodie fluttered in the breeze. A steaming cup of instant coffee rested in his hand.
He narrowed his eyes, gazing toward the glittering Stark Tower in the distance.
He wasn't smiling anymore.
"…If the Chitauri show up," he muttered, "my store's gonna be way too close to the splash zone."
He sipped his coffee slowly.
Then he turned to Doggo, who was sunbathing on the front steps.
"Time to start thinking about Plan B, buddy."
Doggo yawned and ignored him, thinking is not his job after all.