AutumnXd
patreon
CHAPTER 27
🕑 Added 2025-04-12 11:01:01 +0000 UTCLive Broadcast!
Zzzzz—
Zzzzz—
Arcs of electricity crackled continuously through the air, illuminating the dingy alley with flashes of blue-white light. The concrete beneath Thor's feet had cracked and blackened, small tendrils of smoke rising from the scorched pavement.
In the alley ravaged by Thor, even the atmosphere was tainted with the acrid scent of burning ozone and hot metal. Dust particles hung suspended in the electrified air, glowing briefly as tiny sparks jumped between them.
The power of the God of Thunder... was clearly no exaggeration.
"A bunch of jackals..." Thor growled, his voice resonating with ancient power.
He brushed a strand of golden hair from his face and surveyed the scattered bodies of Valon's gang with contempt. Their pathetic attempt at resistance hadn't even quickened his godly pulse. Their unconscious forms lay strewn about like discarded toys, testament to their foolishness in challenging him.
At most, they were just insignificant ripples in the ocean of his power.
Not even worthy of being called foot soldiers.
"But..." Thor paused, his brow furrowing beneath his winged helmet. Something wasn't right.
"Speaking of which!"
Thor's gaze sharpened, muscles tensing as his attention snapped to a corner on his right. A glint of lightning flashed through his ice-blue eyes, leaving faint trails of electricity dancing across his irises.
"Little rat in the shadows... you've been spying long enough!!" Thor's face turned cold, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder rolling across mountain peaks. The air around him began to crackle with anticipation.
"Damn it!" came a hushed whisper from the shadows.
"Spotted?!"
Right where Thor's eyes locked, a crouching shadow involuntarily shivered, the vibration of fear almost palpable in the charged atmosphere.
It was none other than Cyclops.
Following Jean's telepathic guidance to this Chinatown alley, with Wolverine having already subdued Captain America in a brutal confrontation several blocks away, the battle was essentially over. Cyclops had just stepped out for some air—and maybe sniff out clues about the mystical talisman that had brought them all to this strange convergence of worlds.
But what he ran into instead... was a raging, god-tier Thor at the peak of his powers.
The sheer intensity of that thunderous aura made Cyclops's heart hammer against his ribcage. Sweat beaded on his forehead beneath his visor, which seemed suddenly inadequate protection. With no certainty of winning—or even surviving—Cyclops had no desire to pick a fight. He wasn't Wolverine—he couldn't regenerate from a pile of ash...
Yet here he was, dragged into the chaos like a leaf caught in a hurricane.
Cyclops stepped out from behind a dumpster that bore fresh dents from Thor's previous battle, hands raised in peace, flashing an awkward smile that didn't quite reach his eyes behind the ruby quartz.
"Hey—buddy!" His voice cracked slightly, betraying his anxiety.
"We're all mutants here, no need to get all hostile!" Cyclops attempted to sound casual, even as his mind raced through combat scenarios, each ending with him in pieces.
"Maybe!" he continued, gaining a bit more confidence.
"We could team up! I mean, we're both mutants, natural allies. I saw the mission interface—we can choose factions. If we pick the same one, we could totally maximize our efficiency..."
The more Cyclops talked, the more inspired he became by his own improvisation.
At first—
He was just stalling for time, desperate words tumbling from his mouth while he plotted an escape route. But as the words came out, hope flickered within him like a fragile flame. He started to believe it himself.
This mission had faction choices—clearly different from the usual parameters they operated under. Maybe, just maybe, the path to victory wasn't solo chaos, but forming alliances and uniting the summoned fighters! There could be strength in numbers against whatever cosmic game was being played with them.
But just as Cyclops thought he'd cracked the code—
His voice cut off abruptly.
"This is bad—" he whispered, throat suddenly dry.
Suddenly, a wave of killing intent washed over him like arctic water!
His danger sense flared violently—every hair on his body stood on end, skin prickling as though thousands of invisible needles were pressing against him.
Like a cat reacting to a mortal threat, his muscles coiled, ready to spring.
"Mutant?" Thor scoffed, curling his lip in undisguised disgust. His massive chest swelled with indignation as he repeated, disdainfully: "I am Thor—God of Thunder! Of Asgard!!"
The rightful heir to Asgard's golden throne...
Being mistaken for a mutant, and asked to team up? With Thor's ancestral pride flowing through his veins like molten gold, of course he snapped!
Thor—
Had conquered realms with raw strength and divine might, never through ridiculous alliances with lesser beings! The very suggestion was an insult to his lineage, to his father Odin, to all of Asgard!
His expression darkened like a storm cloud. Lightning flashed in his eyes, reflecting his rage as literal electricity coursed through his godly form.
"You're dead!!" he roared, voice shaking the very foundations of the buildings around them.
Blinding lightning filled Cyclops's vision, turning night to day in a terrifying instant.
And in that heartbeat of clarity, he knew—Thor was coming for him with the full fury of a god!
Zzzap—!
Cyclops's visor lit up, twin beams of ruby-red laser bursting forth with devastating force. The ground beneath him cracked as he pushed off, muscles straining.
Activating his powers to their fullest extent, he forced back the surge of thunder, then slipped through the gaps with quick, precise movements honed by years of Danger Room training.
Zzzap zzzap—!
Red laser blasts fired in rapid succession, clashing with thunder in a spectacular display of crimson and electric blue.
Electricity danced wildly across the alley walls, lightning arcing in all directions, shattering windows and blowing out nearby transformers. The neighborhood plunged into darkness, save for the brilliant light show of their confrontation.
Cyclops dodged rapidly, the leather of his uniform creaking with each desperate movement, while behind him, deep craters formed with every lightning strike, concrete and asphalt melting into slag.
"Hmph!" Thor grunted, annoyed at having missed his target.
"Rats in the gutter do nothing but scurry and hide!" he taunted, his cape billowing dramatically in the updraft created by his own power.
Cyclops felt his pride sting at the insult, even as he narrowly avoided being vaporized.
"Hide? Let's see how long you can run." Thor's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.
With a sneer that crinkled the corners of his eyes, he opened his right hand, palm facing skyward, fingers spread in commanding gesture.
BOOM!
The clouds above them split apart as the mighty Mjölnir answered his call, crashing down from the heavens in a bolt of lightning that momentarily blinded Cyclops despite his protective visor. The legendary hammer slammed into Thor's waiting palm with practiced precision, the impact sending shockwaves through the alley.
The weapon hummed with ancient power, runes along its side glowing with an inner light. With Mjölnir now firmly in hand—Thor was done playing games.
"Damn it!" Cyclops spat, tasting blood where he'd bitten his lip during a particularly close dodge.
"Are you serious right now?!" His voice cracked with incredulity and mounting anger.
Cyclops was furious, his tactical mind analyzing the situation even as emotion threatened to overwhelm him.
Thor's mocking gaze, that deep-seated arrogance—the same look he'd seen directed at mutants his entire life—it made Cyclops snap.
He!
How dare he!
Just because he was mutated? Who wasn't mutated nowadays? Was this the same prejudice, just wrapped in godly arrogance instead of human fear?
"Fine! I've had enough!" Cyclops shouted, planting his feet firmly on the ground, preparing for what might be his final stand.
He'd been holding back, wary of Thor's strength. Especially since, as a fellow "mutant" (or so he'd thought), Thor could've been a natural ally. In this unfamiliar world, more friends seemed smarter than more enemies...
But now? If it came to a fight—bring it on!
So what if he controlled lightning? He had laser vision that could cut through mountains!
Cyclops's jaw clenched tight, teeth grinding as rage fueled his resolve. He wasn't holding back anymore. If he didn't teach this arrogant jerk a lesson, Thor would really think he could be pushed around! No one—god or otherwise—treated Scott Summers like vermin.
Veins bulged across Cyclops's forehead, pulsing visibly beneath his skin. His temples throbbed as an overwhelming wave of energy surged from deep within his mutant DNA, channeling toward his eyes. Crimson laser beams erupted with unprecedented intensity, warping the air with heat that could melt steel beams in seconds.
Blazing with righteous fury—he went all in!
But unfortunately...
He had overestimated himself—and severely underestimated Thor.
Especially a Thor in a rage.
BOOM!
KRA-KOOM!!
Thunder rained from the sky like a divine spear, summoned by Thor's godly will. The air itself seemed to part before the Asgardian's might.
Like the Sword of Damocles, it crushed Cyclops straight into the ground with merciless force. The lightning's speed couldn't be matched by any human reflex—it couldn't even be seen, let alone dodged! It moved faster than thought, faster than fear.
And as for—
That steel-melting laser?
Thor simply raised Mjölnir, its ancient metal glowing white-hot, and charged through the beam as if it were nothing more than warm summer rain.
Zzzzap—KRA-KOOM!!
The blinding lightning surged forward, tendrils of blue electricity wrapping around Thor's muscular form like protective serpents. The lasers that could melt metal had no effect on the enchanted hammer. Instead, Thor's thunder devoured the beams and shattered them to pieces, dispersing the energy like it was child's play.
Only stray arcs of lightning remained, flickering chaotically across the battlefield, illuminating the destruction they had wrought.
Thor stood, untouched, not a single golden hair out of place. His expression was one of grim satisfaction, having put an upstart in his place.
And across from him—Cyclops, charred and smoking, his uniform in tatters, was launched across the alley like a rag doll, landing in a heap beside Valon's already defeated crew. Small electrical currents still sparked across his unconscious form, his visor cracked but miraculously intact.
In the blink of an eye—
The entire alley was cleared of resistance.
Only Thor remained standing, a silhouette of godly power against the backdrop of destruction.
All around...
Not. A. Sound.
Even the distant sirens of the city seemed to have fallen silent in reverence to the display of raw power.
Only the marks left by lightning remained as testament to the brief but decisive battle.
Zzzzz...
Zzzzz...
Electric arcs snapped and sparked, crackling in the dead silence of the alleyway as Thor surveyed his handiwork with the calm detachment of a god who had seen countless battles across millennia.
Live viewers:
"Hissss..."
"Hissss..."
Hissss...
Everyone watching the stream collectively sucked in a breath, eyes wide, jaws hanging open in disbelief.
The melting Antarctic ice caps just got another boost from the collective heat of their shocked gasps.
The chat—usually a flood of comments, memes, and heated arguments—went dead silent.
Even the most sarcastic, mouthy netizens were at a total loss for words, fingers hovering motionless over keyboards.
Time itself seemed to pause as the implications sank in.
Mutant Academy
"It's just lightning..." Storm began to mutter, her voice faltering with each syllable.
Her confident assertion instantly collapsed under the weight of what she'd just witnessed. The second half of her sentence came out in a voice barely louder than a mosquito, trailing off into nothing as reality crushed her expert assessment.
Her dark cheeks flushed red—bright, painful, burning red with humiliation.
It was like—
Being slapped. Again and again. By an invisible hand of truth that showed no mercy.
So red, she looked like she might start bleeding, the contrast stark against her shock-white hair.
In the live broadcast—
The thunderous power Thor had displayed was on an entirely different level. Even with a special weather boost and perfect atmospheric conditions, Storm would need a long charge-up to unleash something even approaching that magnitude.
And Thor?
Didn't even break a sweat. Hadn't even exerted himself. This was merely a god swatting a fly.
Any idiot could see it—
They weren't even on the same playing field.
They weren't even playing the same game.
Around Storm, her fellow mutants exchanged glances of dawning horror. If Thor was this powerful, what chance did any of them have in this strange new world where gods walked among mortals?
