TN: There is no Chapter 33, I don't know why. Don't worry, this is the continuation of the previous chapter.
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"Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor."
That was All-Father Odin's decree. And Martin could feel it, the divine power was flowing into him, drawn directly from the enchanted hammer in his hand.
"So this… is divine power," he murmured.
With the analytical systems of the Apex Armor running at full capacity, Martin began dissecting the very essence of this so-called godhood.
It was his first encounter with divine power in its raw form. And now that he was face to face with it... honestly? It didn't seem all that impressive.
"Once I ascend to the Skyfather level… no, beyond that, to a being who can singlehandedly suppress countless galactic civilizations, then the energy surging from the AllSpark during activation… that too is divine power."
As the Apex Armor parsed deeper into the hammer's nature, data filled his mind like a flood. But the more he understood, the less intrigued he became. At best, this was a Skyfather-tier artifact. Nothing more.
Martin looked down at Thor, calm and cold. "Thor, I've lifted Mjolnir. That makes me more worthy to be the God of Thunder than you."
Thor's face was strained with bitterness. "Yes… you have the strength. But you didn't earn the hammer's approval. You forced it."
CLANG.
Martin tossed the hammer onto the ground like a piece of scrap.
He turned to Optimus Prime and ordered, "Optimus. Pick it up."
The Autobot leader stood silent for a moment, then stepped forward. With two massive fingers, he gently gripped the handle.
And lifted.
In an instant, thunder cracked, lightning danced, and god-force surged.
There was no resistance.
No enchantment barring his way.
Optimus Prime hoisted Mjolnir as though it were forged for his hand. Divine energy poured into his Cybertronian frame, unfamiliar and immense, but not overwhelming.
Thor was stunned speechless. He stared blankly at the towering blue robot, disbelief etched across his face.
"Mr. Martin…" Agent Coulson finally snapped out of his shock, voice hushed with awe and dread. "Does this mean gods… are real? I mean, Norse mythology, the others too, were they all true?"
Martin gestured toward the sky.
"You'll have your answer soon. A living god-king is on his way to Earth."
Everyone froze, instinctively turning their gaze skyward.
Even Thor's eyes lit with a flicker of desperate hope.
Above them, space itself twisted. A terrifying vortex spiraled open, spanning nearly half the planet. The Americas were swallowed in its growing shadow. The air shook. Lightning ripped through clouds. And within the storm's eye, a colossal astral form began to take shape.
Panic spread across Earth like wildfire.
World leaders barked orders. Intelligence networks scrambled for answers.
But no one knew what they were looking at.
"Is this… an alien invasion?" someone muttered, dazed.
Technically, yes. Odin was, after all, an alien.
...
Kamar-Taj.
Mordo's eyes blazed. He rushed to raise the alarm, ready to activate the global Sanctum defenses. But the Ancient One calmly blocked him.
"Wait," she said. "So long as he doesn't attack the Earth directly, there's no need for panic."
She stepped through a shimmering portal, sipping casually from an iced beverage. The straw made a soft slurp.
...
Martin looked up. The vortex had fully opened now. And within it, finally, Odin appeared.
The true Odin.
"Mortal," came the thunderous voice. "Mjolnir is a sacred artifact of Asgard!"
The All-Father's projection towered across the sky, clutching Gungnir, the Spear of Heaven. His voice resonated across dimensions, his aura crushing.
Yet there was a crack in his composure, an undercurrent of irritation.
He was supposed to be in the Odinsleep, replenishing what little vitality remained in his aging body. Prolonged wakefulness would only shorten his already dwindling lifespan.
But what choice did he have?
A mortal had forcibly lifted Mjolnir. Annoying, but manageable, likely brute-forced through external power.
But then, a machine had raised it effortlessly. With no tricks. No hacks. Just… pure will.
That changed everything.
Optimus Prime had been chosen by Mjolnir. No enchantments broken. No loopholes exploited.
And if even he wasn't worthy, then no one could be.
Odin had never imagined that on Earth of all places, a being like this would simply stumble upon Mjolnir and lift it like a toolbox.
"Father!" Thor called out, guilt and hope clashing on his face.
But Odin ignored him entirely. His eyes were fixed, unyielding, on Martin.
The rest of the world wilted beneath Odin's divine presence. But Martin stood calm, looking him straight in the eye.
"You're the one who cast Mjolnir to Earth. You enchanted it. Now, my subordinate and I have fulfilled the conditions. So tell me, All-Father, what do you intend to do?"
Odin was silent for a moment. Then, with a voice like winter's edge, he replied:
"Only one of Asgardian blood may claim the throne. And I will reclaim Mjolnir. It must find a new bearer, one of my choosing."
Martin chuckled.
There it was.
That self-serving, imperial audacity, that was the Odin of old. The one who led genocidal campaigns with Hela. Who waged war across the Nine Realms. Who lit up the Yggdrasil system with cosmic bloodshed.
Only now, too old to fight, he wore a crown of restraint.
"Your Majesty," Martin said with theatrical reverence, "very well. Please… take your hammer back, as trash."
He picked up Mjolnir.
And squeezed.
Lightning sparked violently, divine runes flared, and then cracked. Fractures spiderwebbed across the hammer's surface. Thunder screamed from within its core.
Mjolnir… was breaking.
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