I am Thor

On Earth, in an abandoned factory riddled with rust and decay, a group of men clad in camouflage uniforms counted their ill-gotten gains with smug satisfaction.

"Another big haul," one of them said, grinning from ear to ear.

"It's almost laughable how these idiots use priceless treasures as farming tools," another chuckled, holding up what appeared to be a battered hoe. "This thing would fetch a fortune in a museum."

The man struck the "hoe" with a specialized instrument. The surface crumbled away, revealing the shimmering metallic sheen beneath. It wasn't ordinary metal—it was the rarest and most coveted resource on Earth.

Vibranium.

Ulysses Klaue, a rotund man with a greedy gleam in his eyes, inspected the discovery. A fugitive from Wakanda, he was infamous for smuggling Vibranium out of the secretive nation. Even Ultron had relied on him to obtain the material for his plans.

"It's a pity," Klaue sighed, running his hand over the gleaming metal. "With the United States in chaos, this haul won't sell for nearly as much as it should." He gestured with his hands, indicating an obscene amount. "Under normal circumstances, this could make us rich beyond our wildest dreams!"

A young black man with dreadlocks, standing a few feet away, narrowed his eyes. "I think Wakanda might be more interested in this haul than you think," he said coldly.

Klaue's grin vanished, replaced by a glare. "Are you out of your mind? Wakanda's been hunting me for years. You want us to hand ourselves over on a silver platter?"

"Not us," the young man said with a chilling smirk. "Just you."

Klaue turned, only to find himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The shots rang out, and Klaue collapsed to the ground, blood pooling beneath him. He coughed weakly, his once-arrogant expression now twisted in fear.

"Eric," Klaue croaked, "handing me over won't change anything. Wakanda doesn't trust outsiders. They won't let you in—"

The young man cut him off by pulling at his lower lip, revealing a faint but unmistakable purple glow beneath his skin.

"I'm not an outsider," Eric said icily.

Klaue's eyes widened in realization. A bitter laugh escaped his lips. "So that's how it is… I always thought you were just another crazy American..." His words faded as Eric pulled the trigger one last time.

"Bang!"

Meanwhile, Thor awoke to a notification flashing across the system panel.

[Black Dragon Princess Loyalty: 70%]

The God of Thunder glanced at the blushing Onyxia, who sat demurely beside him. He sighed inwardly. This loyalty increase was worth the effort, right?

"Your orders, Master?" Onyxia asked cautiously, her voice softer than before.

"Don't call me 'Master.' From now on, address me as 'Your Highness,'" Thor instructed. He gestured grandly. "I'll arrange an identity for you: Countess Katrana Prestor of Asgard."

"Yes, Your Highness," she replied, bowing her head.

Thor rose, stretching as the first light of dawn illuminated the sky. "Time to check on Rocket and the others," he muttered to himself.

As he approached the spaceship, he found Rocket sitting outside, his small frame hunched in thought. Thor furrowed his brow. "What's wrong with you, Pippi Bear?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.

Rocket glanced up, his expression equal parts annoyed and amused. "You're unbelievable, Thor. Every time you show up, there's a new beauty trailing behind you." He nodded toward Onyxia, his eyes narrowing.

The raccoon sniffed the air, and in an instant, his fur bristled. His animal instincts kicked in, his body trembling. "She's not normal! She's not just a person!" he exclaimed, backing away.

Thor tilted his head, confused. "What's gotten into you?"

Onyxia chuckled, her tone laced with amusement. "It's natural. Animals instinctively react to beings higher on the food chain. And as a dragon, I'm at the very top."

Thor waved it off, steering the conversation back to Rocket. "Anyway, what were you thinking about just now? Isn't the spaceship already fixed?"

Rocket's ears twitched, and he leaned in closer, speaking in a low voice. "Don't you think something's off about Quill's biological father? Why did he abandon Quill for so long, only to show up after his mom died?"

Thor frowned, considering the raccoon's words.

"And another thing," Rocket continued, "Yondu isn't as bad as he pretends to be. You can tell he cares about Quill. If that's the case, why didn't he hand Quill over to his father? There's gotta be something Yondu knows—something he's not telling us."

Thor nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. There's something… cold in his eyes when he looks at Quill. He's not looking at a son—he's looking at something else."

"What do you mean?" Rocket's ears perked up. "Are you saying Quill's in danger? Damn it, what kind of father does that?!"

He kicked at the dirt, frustration etched on his face.

"It's not so unusual," Onyxia interjected, her voice bitter. "My father was the same. To him, I was just a tool—my life and death were worth no more than the servants who served him."

Thor's expression darkened. "Every family has its troubles. Nebula and Gamora endured Thanos' cruelty, and even my own father sealed away my sister, though he regrets it now."

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