Chapter 8: Worthiness

Back on Earth, Thor handed Minn-Erva over to Nick Fury's custody. He left a charge of lightning in her, like a tranquilizer, making her too sluggish to move for a while.

Checking the time, he realized Ronan the Accuser would be arriving soon. The battle was going to unfold in the sky, and with only his jumping ability for movement, Thor knew he couldn't contribute much. Not that he was concerned—Ronan was a notorious coward. If things got rough, he'd flee.

More importantly, Thor had just tried summoning Mjolnir and found, oddly enough, that while the hammer wasn't lost, it didn't return immediately either. It was almost as though Mjolnir was telling him to wait.

"Please enter the verification code to confirm recall…" he thought, puzzled by this new sense of reluctance. He could feel where Mjolnir was, so he decided to investigate. As for Ronan, he'd leave him to Carol.

In a snowy expanse, two groups stood locked in a standoff. On one side were fully armed adult soldiers, and on the other, a lone girl of about twelve or thirteen. Her body bore countless scars, yet her eyes were fierce and unyielding, showing no trace of fear.

I am an orphan.

For as long as I can remember, I've been alone, wandering from place to place, knowing nothing of my parents or where I came from. I survived by rummaging through trash for scraps during the day, and fighting other beggars for a bench to sleep on at night.

One day, a middle-aged man in uniform took me in. He brought me to a place where I had food, clothes, and shelter from the freezing nights. There were other kids like me, and for a while, I thought I'd found paradise.

But I was wrong.

Soon after, instructors came, harsh and intimidating, teaching us how to fight, wield weapons, even handle guns. Those who didn't learn were either locked in small, dark rooms without food or, if unlucky, whipped. Some kids just disappeared. Maybe they were expelled?

I caught on quickly, so I rarely got punished.

Years passed, and we were sent out to complete missions—sometimes stealing, sometimes guarding important-looking people, and sometimes… killing.

Being a kid made it easier to catch people off guard.

By then, I realized that our base was hidden for a reason; it wasn't legal, and soon, it would go underground entirely.

More of my companions died on these missions. The kids I'd trained with were now few, and every time someone else died, I wondered, When will it be my turn? Next time, maybe?

I thought about escaping, about rebelling. I didn't want to live this way forever. But escape was impossible, and I knew I was always being watched, even when they thought I didn't notice. Every girl who tried to flee met a brutal end—I still can't forget their tortured faces.

I would graduate soon. They say the graduation ceremony is terrifying…

Is this my fate? To die on a mission, perhaps, would be the best end.

But no, if I'm still breathing, there's hope. Someday, somehow, I'll escape this hell. I just need one chance.

A loud explosion nearby shook me from my thoughts. A building collapsed into rubble, and sirens wailed in the distance. Heavily armed soldiers scrambled in every direction.

An enemy attack? This place was so secretive, so well-protected. This wasn't supposed to happen.

Moving toward the scene of the blast, I saw it—a strange hammer lying in the snow.

Cautiously, I approached and studied the hammer's intricate design. Taking a deep breath, I reached for the handle, wrapping my fingers around it, and lifted it.

At that moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The skies darkened, thunder roared, and bolts of lightning crackled across the horizon.