If this façade had been exposed, an ordinary person might have felt at least a little embarrassed.
But Arthur was no ordinary person. And he certainly wasn't second-rate— he was exceptional.
"What are you doing here in the middle of the night instead of getting some sleep?" Arthur shifted the conversation effortlessly, his tone casual yet controlled.
"It's about my mother," Thor said, his voice weighted. "What really happened back then? What aren't you telling me?"
Arthur paused, considering his words before shaking his head. "I can't tell you that."
"Why not?" Thor's brows furrowed in frustration. "You won't say, and neither will Father. What are you both hiding from me? If it's something I absolutely can't know, at least tell me why. I won't press further."
Arthur looked genuinely surprised. "Your father didn't say anything?"
"No. He just told me to ask you."
Arthur's lips twitched. He understood Odin's reasoning.
When it came to the delicate balance of fate and causality, even a single misplaced word could shift the outcome entirely.
And now, with someone like Arthur in the equation— someone who was "untouched by causality" or perhaps capable of breaking the deterministic flow of cause and effect— it made sense that Odin would pass the burden onto him.
"You people have way too much faith in me," Arthur muttered, rolling his eyes. He considered telling Thor everything but hesitated.
Then, his expression darkened slightly, and he shook his head once more. "This isn't something you should know yet. If you trust your father and me, be patient. All I can say is that this situation is more serious than you think."
Thor held Arthur's gaze for a long moment before nodding. "I understand."
Arthur exhaled in relief, but when Thor made no move to leave, he raised an eyebrow. "Why are you still here? Shouldn't you be spending the night with your girlfriend instead of lurking around my place?"
"What's our next move?"
Thor ignored the jab, his tone turning serious. "We need a plan. And what about the Dark Elf leader and that cursed elf? How bad are their injuries?"
Arthur recalled the state of the Dark Elf leader and winced slightly. "Oh, he's in rough shape. Some idiot pounded him straight into the ground, smashed his face in so badly he barely looked recognizable. If that cursed elf hadn't dragged him out, he would've been done for."
"...What a shame."
Thor sounded almost disappointed.
"I wouldn't call it a shame," Arthur said. "The Aether in Jane's body— it's one of the Infinity Stones. The Reality Stone. Its power and properties are still beyond our understanding. Even your father doesn't seem to know much about it."
Thor narrowed his eyes. "What are you getting at?"
"I'm saying that if that guy is still alive, he might be our only shot at saving your girlfriend," Arthur replied.
"You're not seriously suggesting we take Jane to the Dark World for a check-up, are you?" Thor crossed his arms. "He's not exactly running a clinic."
Arthur smirked. "Honestly, I think he'd make a better doctor. Beats his current job of trying to give the Nine Realms a permanent smoky-eye effect."
"...I don't think this is the time for jokes."
"Fine, fine." Arthur shrugged. "The plan is simple. We have two objectives in front of us: One, get the Aether out of Jane. Two, rearrange the Dark Elf leader's face by punching it— again."
"But how?" Thor said. "You really think Malekith will just roll over and do whatever we tell him? That's impossible!"
Arthur smirked. "That's why we'll need some help."
"Whose help?"
"Loki," Arthur said. "The God of Mischief himself. With him on board, this plan will go a lot smoother. And— no offense— you're not exactly the best at deception. When it comes to acting, your brother has you beat."
Thor didn't rise to the bait, but his expression darkened. "Will Loki even agree to help us?"
"I think he will."
Arthur leaned back, his voice calm. "No matter how complicated things are between you two, or how many times he's wished you were dead, there's one thing you both agree on— the Queen Mother. You were both raised by her."
Thor sighed, acknowledging the truth in Arthur's words. "You're right."
The two of them spent some time refining the details of their plan, eventually reaching an agreement. Satisfied, Thor left.
Arthur, now alone in the room, stared at his empty wine glass, feeling a twinge of melancholy.
That guy drank every last drop of my hidden stash. How rude.
...
The plan was simple: take Loki and Jane, making a team of four, and head to the Dark World.
Loki would use his illusions to mask his presence, leaving only three visible members of the group. Then, they'd stage an ambush— Loki would "betray" Thor and present him to Malekith as a supposed ally.
Malekith wouldn't kill Loki right away. After all, as the saying goes, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. He'd likely extract the Aether from Jane first and then decide what to do with Loki afterward.
That's when Arthur would make his move— burst in, slam Malekith into the ground with a well-timed assist from a certain hammer-wielding idiot, retrieve the Aether, and wrap things up with a full-scale battle.
To call this "Arthur's plan" was a bit of a stretch—it was basically ripped straight from the movie.
The difference? In the film, it was just the three of them. This time, Arthur was there, and that significantly improved their chances.
With him in the mix, success was all but guaranteed.
Arthur was fully confident they could settle everything in the Dark World and then go their separate ways.
But the next day, reality reminded him that things are never that simple.
Apparently, Odin had decided to demonstrate just how furious he was— by placing Jane under house arrest.
Arthur and Thor were both momentarily stunned when they heard the news. They nearly collided as they rushed to get answers from Odin.
Thor returned first, looking grim and dejected. "We fought," he admitted.
Arthur wasn't too worried about that— Thor and Odin butting heads was nothing new. But when he saw Odin for himself, something felt… off.
The Allfather sat on his throne, his posture rigid, his gaze as imposing as ever. But there was a faint pallor to his face, a quiet sign that all was not well.
And to Arthur, there was something even stranger— Odin's entire presence seemed… obscured. As if a veil of mist surrounded him, blurring the edges, making him feel unreal.
(End of this chapter)
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