Marvel: Familia System

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Donald walked into the base, looking at the group scattered across the common room. Nero and Nigel were engaged in a quiet conversation near the corner while Diego leaned back on the couch, fiddling with a deck of cards. Maria sat cross-legged at the table, flipping through a book, and Sofia was hunched over her laptop, typing furiously. Anthony was half-lying on the opposite couch, tossing a ball in the air absentmindedly.

"My father called me back," Donald said, cutting through the low hum of conversation and the faint clatter of keys. "He invites you all to Asgard."

The ball missed Anthony's hand and landed on the floor with a dull thud. He sat up, eyebrows raised. "Asgard? Like, actual Asgard? With gods and golden palaces?"

Donald nodded. "Yes. Odin requested my presence. Apparently, something important is happening, and he wants all of you there too."

Maria smirked. "Bet he'll be thrilled to meet Anthony. Definitely screams 'Asgard material.'"

Anthony shrugged. "Hey, who wouldn't want to meet me? I'm practically divine already."

Diego whistled, shuffling the deck in his hand. "Meeting the in-laws already, huh? Guess the old man couldn't resist seeing who you've been hanging out with."

Donald gave Diego a disgusted look. "You really believe your little fantasy, don't you, Diego? Sorry, I'm clearly out of your league."

The others chuckled as Diego raised his hands in mock surrender. "Harsh, but fair. I'll stick to mortals, then."

Maria set her book down, tilting her head at Donald. "So what's the catch?"

Donald shrugged. "Clearly, my father knows more than he lets on. He must've picked up on what's been happening around me. And I think he knows parts of Nero's story—maybe not the full extent, like the system or memories from another plane, but definitely the important bits. How Nero has been there for me, and how he gave me the power of Lightning Flames. I think he wants to meet you all and see this power for himself."

Anthony snorted. "So, Odin wants to size up the competition, huh? Big All-Father energy right there."

Nero glanced up with a smile, "Not everything has to be about a power play, Anthony. Odin might just be curious."

Donald nodded as Nero continued, "You may not know it yet, but Asgard is in control of several realms. Earth is just one of them."

Diego tapped the deck of cards against his knee. "Several realms? So, what, they're landlords for a multiversal condo complex?"

"Something like that," Nero replied, a faint smile crossing his face. "Each realm has its own rules, politics, and problems. Asgard maintains the balance."

Maria leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "And your father runs this whole operation?"

"Not just my father," Donald said. "The Council of Realms handles most decisions, but Odin's authority overrides theirs when necessary. That's how the structure works."

"Sounds bureaucratic," Sofia muttered, her eyes still on her laptop. "Bet it's a nightmare trying to get anything done."

"Probably less red tape than Earth," Anthony chimed in, picking the ball off the floor. "At least they don't have to deal with zoning laws."

Nigel's voice interrupted from the corner. "The All-Father's invitation isn't one to be taken lightly. His curiosity about your group is likely more layered than simple introductions."

"Meaning?" Maria asked.

Nigel adjusted his cuffs. "Meaning an All Knowing God would rarely act without multiple purposes. He may want to test you, gauge your worth, or see how you react in unfamiliar circumstances."

"Great," Diego said, shuffling the cards with practiced ease. "A divine aptitude test. Just what I needed."

Nero chuckled. "What are you worried about? You'll be in the kitchen, proving yourself to Mother Frigga."

Diego stared at him, deadpan. "Why am I always the bride in this imaginary relationship?"

Donald huffed. "There's no relationship, damn it!"

The room erupted in laughter, everyone ignoring Donald's irritation. "Think of it this way," Anthony said. "If Frigga likes you, she might teach you some divine recipes. Imagine the barbecues after that."

Diego tossed the cards in his hand onto the table with a flourish. "As long as I'm not expected to wear an apron with 'Kiss the Chef,' we're fine."

"Too bad," Maria chimed in. "I was planning to embroider one for you."

"You all act like this is a family picnic," Donald muttered. "Asgard isn't some casual stop. This isn't about impressing my parents; it's about—"

Nero smiled, "Let me guess—a feast in a hall with lots of meat and booze. Am I right?"

Donald thought for a moment and nodded. "Sounds about right."

The others broke into laughter. Diego gestured grandly, "Well, not a picnic per se, but definitely close enough. Just add some divine karaoke and we're set."

Maria smirked. "Anthony can handle the entertainment. Can't wait to see you reciting Norse poetry to Odin himself."

Anthony caught the ball he'd been tossing and gave an exaggerated bow. "As long as someone brings a harp, I'll serenade the All-Father personally."

"You're all insane," Donald muttered, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He glanced toward Nero. "You're not taking this seriously, are you?"

Nero shrugged. "Asgard's a realm of gods, Donald. Serious or not, I doubt anything we do can prepare us fully. So why not have a little fun before they start throwing their divine tests our way?"

Sofia finally looked up from her laptop, rubbing her temples. "Can I skip? I doubt you have Wi-Fi there."

Anthony snorted. "What, scared the gods won't appreciate your gaming skills?"

"Gaming?" Sofia shot back, arching an eyebrow. "If Odin sees me trying to optimize their ancient network, they might just ban me from existence."

Diego leaned over, balancing a card on his finger. "You're assuming they even have a network. For all we know, they're still sending messages by ravens."

Donald sighed, his irritation growing. "It's Asgard. They don't need your sarcasm. They communicate through magic, not carrier pigeons."

"That's a shame," Nero cut in smoothly. "Imagine how much easier family politics would be with a good group chat."

Maria smirked. "Bet Loki would have some wild memes."

Donald gave her a look that screamed seriously? "Loki is a menace, not a meme."

Diego waved dismissively. "Same difference."

Donald looked at the group like they were a lost cause. "Oh god."

Diego chuckled, leaning forward slightly. "Talking to the mirror or Daddy?"

Donald shot him a glare, but Diego's grin only widened. Anthony snorted, tossing the ball onto the couch beside him. "You walked right into that one."

The group, still chuckling at Donald's expense, finally eased into seriousness, allowing Nero and Donald to explain what lay ahead. Nero's insights about Asgard, drawn from the memories of Prince's alternate life, provided valuable information and cautionary tales. He outlined the cultural nuances, the unspoken hierarchy, and the significance of their every word and action in the presence of gods. Donald added details of Asgard's customs, ensuring everyone had some grasp of what to expect.

Though the briefing was thorough, the air of irreverence never fully left. Diego periodically raised his hand with sarcastic "clarification" questions, Anthony suggested poetic verses he might deliver to Odin, and Maria mocked the idea of Sofia trying to optimize Asgard's communication systems. Sofia mostly ignored them, though she did remark dryly that if Asgard wanted her to be impressed, they'd better have a working firewall.

By the time the group donned Asgardian-inspired attire—flowing fabrics with subtle metallic accents and understated elegance—they resembled a band of mortals just polished enough to avoid offense but practical enough to blend in. The conversation died down as the room filled with an eerie hum, signaling the Bifrost's imminent arrival.

A pillar of light descended, cutting through the room with an almost deafening roar. The swirling brilliance shifted, coalescing into a bridge of shimmering colors as the group was swept up in a flash of energy. In a heartbeat, they stood on the Bifrost, the vast expanse of Asgard spreading before them.

The realm was a masterpiece of both nature and architecture. Golden spires stretched toward the heavens, their surfaces gleaming in the ethereal light of a sky that seemed to shimmer with constellations even in daylight. Rolling plains of emerald stretched to the horizon, interrupted by rivers of liquid silver. Everything about the landscape felt larger, grander, as though mortals were never meant to witness such majesty.

Anthony let out a low whistle, leaning slightly forward to take it all in. "Not gonna lie, I thought they might oversell this place. They didn't."

"Keep it together," Donald muttered, glancing around. "The last thing I need is you embarrassing me."

"You think I'm the liability here?" Anthony replied, a grin tugging at his lips. "Wait till Diego tries to hit on someone."

"Please," Diego said, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve. "I don't 'try.' And gods or not, I have standards."

Maria suppressed a laugh. "I'm sure they'll be thrilled to hear that."

Nero glanced at the group, amusement flickering briefly before he gestured ahead. "Let's move. Heimdall won't wait forever."

Standing at the edge of the bridge was Heimdall himself, clad in armor that seemed to pulse faintly with the light of the Bifrost. His eyes, bright and all-seeing, locked on the group as they approached. He held his sword with an ease that suggested it wasn't just a ceremonial prop.

"You are expected," Heimdall said, his voice resonant, cutting through the awe in the air. He stepped aside, allowing them to pass toward the gates of Asgard.

As they entered the city proper, Asgard revealed its full grandeur. The streets were wide and lined with intricate carvings, each one telling stories of battles, alliances, and feats of heroism. Asgardians moved with purpose, their attire blending practicality with a regal flair. The group drew a few curious glances but nothing overtly hostile.

They reached the grand hall quickly, its massive golden doors swinging open as though the very building anticipated their arrival. Inside, the ceiling soared high above, adorned with murals that seemed to shift subtly with the changing light. The hall was bustling with activity—warriors preparing for their next campaign, courtiers engaged in quiet conversation, and messengers darting between groups.

At the far end of the hall, Odin sat on a throne of solid gold and carved runes. His gaze was sharp, assessing the group as they approached. Frigga stood beside him, her presence both regal and warm, her gaze resting briefly on Donald before moving to the others.

As they reached the dais, Donald stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Father. Mother. Your son has returned."

Frigga looked at Donald warmly. It had been ages since she saw her son. Her gaze lingered on him before sweeping over the rest of the group with curiosity. Odin, seated on his throne, leaned forward slightly, his stern expression softening a fraction.

"Thor," Odin said, his voice carrying a weight that seemed to echo through the hall, "welcome back to Asgard."

Donald's lips tightened, but he offered a polite nod. "Father, it's good to be here."

Diego muttered under his breath, "Not even a hug after not seeing him so long? Cold."

Anthony elbowed him lightly, whispering, "You'd think there would be some tears."

Donald turned slightly, catching the exchange. "Quiet, you two," he said through gritted teeth.

Frigga, still smiling, descended the dais with an elegance that silenced the group's bickering. "You've been away far too long, my son. And I see you've brought friends." She stopped a few paces away, her gaze resting briefly on Nero before addressing the group. "Welcome to Asgard. You all helped my son in his direst times."

Nero and the others just smiled humbly. "Donald was our friend," Nero said, his tone straightforward. "Although his new identity is something out of proportion, even without it, he was part of us."

Frigga studied them for a moment, her calm demeanor unwavering. "Your loyalty is admirable. Few mortals would stand beside one who walks between two realms. It speaks volumes of your character."

Anthony, never one to stay silent for long, grinned. "We're loyal, all right. Plus, Donald keeps things interesting. Can't exactly walk away from that, can we?"

Maria shot him a look but added, "What he means is that Donald's always been family. This doesn't change that."

Frigga's gaze softened further, and she nodded before returning to her place beside Odin. Odin's eyes lingered on Nero, his tone steady yet with an undercurrent of curiosity. "I don't know how you learned Thor's identity, despite my sealing it. But I will not prod into your secrets. Since you are Thor's friends, you are Asgard's friends. Welcome."

Diego leaned toward Anthony, muttering just loud enough to be heard, "See? No grilling, no divine fireballs. Told you we'd make a good impression."

Anthony smirked, whispering back, "You? You're a sideshow. They're here for Nero."

Odin's sharp gaze swept over them, silencing their banter instantly. "You are very a unique group of people. Here were bunch of mortal standing before the All Knowing God of 9 Realms, yet they were bantering as if he was just an old man.

Frigga gestured toward a set of golden doors flanked by towering pillars. "You've traveled far. A feast awaits you in Valaskjalf. Let us not keep you standing here after such a journey."

As they followed the All-Mother's lead, Sofia caught up with Donald, her voice low. "Is every room going to look like a jewelry store exploded? Or is it just the main hall?"

Donald sighed. "They're halls of power. It's symbolic. And no, not every room is like this."

Maria chimed in, "So what you're saying is, this is their 'casual understated' look?"

Donald shot her a exasperated glance but didn't reply. The golden doors opened to reveal a massive dining hall, the likes of which the group could hardly have imagined. Tables laden with ornate dishes stretched the length of the room, gleaming under a high, vaulted ceiling adorned with moving constellations. Asgardians were already seated, their vibrant attire blending seamlessly with the hall's splendor.

Anthony leaned close to Nero. "I was expecting a round table vibe, not… whatever this is. Feels like walking into a painting."

Nero kept his voice measured, "Welcome to the realm of gods. Subtlety isn't their strong suit."

They were led to seats near the head of the table, positioned close to Odin and Frigga. As they settled in, Odin raised a golden goblet, signaling the room to silence.

"Asgard welcomes the long-exiled Thor, son of Odin, and Thor's companions," Odin announced, his voice carrying over the grand hall. "Tonight, we share bread and drink as allies."

The hall erupted in cheers, the sound of tankards and goblets clinking together creating a symphony of celebration. While many raised their glasses in genuine joy at Thor's return.

His closest friends came near him—Sif, Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun—each wearing wide smiles as they embraced Donald tightly. "Thor!" Volstagg's booming voice rang out as he clapped him on the back. "You've been gone too long, my friend!"

"Indeed," Sif said, her tone carrying a mix of warmth and reprimand. "We half expected you to forget your way back entirely."

"I'm surprised you're still standing after all the Midgardian nonsense," Fandral added with a smirk. "Tell me, how do those mortals fare in battle? Do they throw pebbles or just insults?"

Donald stepped out of the group hug, waving them off. "It's been an eventful time, to say the least. And these friends of mine…" He gestured toward Nero and the others, "They've been more capable than you give them credit for."

Diego, hearing this, raised an imaginary glass toward Donald. "A toast to being underestimated by gods! It's good for the ego."

Anthony snorted, shaking his head. "You're going to need more than flattery to survive here, Diego. These people look like they drink wine straight from barrels."

Volstagg's eyes lit up at Anthony's comment. "Ah, finally, a mortal with a proper appreciation for drink! Come, I'll show you the finest Asgardian mead. By the end of the night, you might just outlast Fandral."

"That's ambitious," Hogun muttered, but there was a faint glimmer of amusement in his otherwise stoic demeanor.

Nero and the others had already begun blending into the feast, engaging in casual conversation with nearby Asgardians and sampling the spread before them. Maria leaned over the table to examine a platter of roasted meats. "They really went all out, huh? Is this a regular Tuesday for you, Donald?"

"Thor," Odin corrected from his throne but was ignored.

Donald gave her an amused look. "Something like that."

Sofia was already poking at one of the ornate dishes, her curiosity overriding any hesitation. "So, do they label these? Or is it just a gamble every time you take a bite?"

An Asgardian warrior near her chuckled. "Take heart, mortal. Our food doesn't bite back."

"That's comforting," Sofia muttered, though she eyed the dish suspiciously before taking a small piece.

Odin's gaze lingered on the group, noting their ease amidst the grandeur. "They are unshaken," he murmured to Frigga. "Most mortals quail at the sight of Asgard."

Frigga smiled faintly. "They are not ordinary mortals. They carry themselves with a bond that even we might envy."

Diego, apparently oblivious to the royal commentary, leaned toward Sif. "So, you're Sif. Legendary warrior, goddess, all that. Tell me—how do you manage to keep that braid in perfect shape during battle? Asking for a friend."

Sif raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching with amusement. "Discipline and magic, mostly. Should I braid yours next?"

Maria stifled a laugh as Diego clapped his hands, grinning. "Yes, please! Sister, let's do it now."

Sif arched a brow, clearly caught between amusement and disbelief. "You're serious?"

Diego nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely. Let's immortalize me. If anyone asks, I want the braid called 'The Diego.' It'll be legendary."

Maria shook her head, the grin on her face widening. "I can already see the sagas now: 'The man who styled his way into Asgardian lore.'"

Anthony leaned back, mock-pensive. "Maybe throw in a bit about how he got struck by lightning for annoying a goddess."

"Lightning and charm," Diego shot back. "Best combo since thunder and hammer."

Sif glanced at Donald—Thor. "Are your mortal friends always this..." She trailed off, gesturing toward Diego, who was now attempting to mimic Asgardian sword stances with an imaginary weapon.

Donald sighed. "Always. I've given up on trying to explain them."

"Explain us?" Diego interjected, spinning on his heel. "What's there to explain? We're delightful."

Anthony picked up his goblet, swirling its contents lazily. "You're something, all right. Delightful isn't the word I'd use."

Before Diego could retort, Volstagg's booming laugh filled the room. "I like this one! A good sense of humor is rare among mortals. Let him have his braid, Sif. We could all use a little entertainment."

Sif smirked faintly. "Fine. But only if he can sit still for five minutes. Any less, and I'm cutting it off."

"Deal!" Diego said, plopping down onto the nearest bench. He spun to face Anthony. "Start writing poetry about this. Title it 'The Brave and the Braided.'"

Anthony rolled his eyes, though a faint smile tugged at his lips. "You're braided, and who is the brave?"

The hall erupted in laughter, even Volstagg slapping the table as he roared. Diego shot Anthony a look that said clearly, I will kill you later, but first, I need to sit still for this.

Nigel was surprisingly mingling with the crowd, a goblet of Asgardian mead in hand as he chatted with a group of warriors. The ease with which he navigated the room was as natural as if he'd spent centuries among gods rather than mortals. He exchanged nods and clinked glasses, his presence both unassuming and oddly magnetic.

"You look like you've done this before," Anthony remarked, sidling up to him with a bemused grin.

Nigel glanced at him, the faintest smirk playing on his lips. "The company may be different, but people are people. Gods, mortals—doesn't matter. Everyone appreciates a good drink and a bit of conversation."

Anthony raised an eyebrow. "I'd say that's overly simplistic for a crowd that could probably crush a mountain with their bare hands."

"Overthinking it is where most people fail," Nigel replied, gesturing subtly toward a warrior laughing heartily with a group of courtiers. "They're more approachable than you think. Just don't spill their mead."

On the other side of the hall, Sofia was engaged in an animated discussion with an Asgardian craftsman.

"So, you're saying this material absorbs energy and redistributes it?" she asked, holding a fragment of what looked like shimmering ore.

The craftsman nodded. "Precisely. It's often used in our armor and weaponry to withstand strikes from even the strongest foes."

Sofia tilted her head, examining the fragment. "And no one's thought to use it for other applications? Energy storage, maybe?"

The craftsman looked intrigued. "It's a possibility we've considered, but our focus has always been on combat utility."

Sofia's eyes lit up. "If you ever decide to branch out, let me know. I'd love to see what this could do outside a battlefield."

Nearby, Nero stood with Donald—Thor—as they exchanged quiet words. Odin's gaze remained fixed on them from across the room, his expression inscrutable.

"He's studying you," Donald said, keeping his voice low.

Nero smirked faintly. "Let him. I'd do the same in his place."

"You're not worried?"

"Should I be?"

Donald hesitated. "Not if you're as good at keeping secrets as you claim."

"Better," Nero replied smoothly, taking a sip from his goblet.

Donald glanced at his father, then back to Nero. "Just... tread carefully. Odin doesn't like surprises."

"Neither do I," Nero said, his tone light but with an undercurrent of something more. "We'll manage."

Frigga approached them, her presence drawing a pause in their conversation. "You've brought an interesting group, my son," she said, her voice warm as she addressed Donald. Her eyes flicked to Nero. "And you seem to be the most interesting of them all."

Nero inclined his head slightly. "Only by association, All-Mother. Your son keeps us grounded."

Frigga studied him for a moment, a faint smile gracing her lips. "Grounded? That's an unusual term for someone of his nature."

"Unusual is what we do best," Nero replied with a chuckle.

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