Chapter Seventy-One: Journey to New Mexico

After finishing Richard’s body modification, Michael felt a bit exhausted—it was time to rest. As for Rhode’s armor, he could deal with that tomorrow.

But the Red Queen didn’t give Michael any time to relax. She appeared behind him and reminded him, “Sir, there’s a communication.”

Who could it be, so lacking in timing?

“Open it.”

A blue projection appeared before Michael, revealing a bald man inside. Nick Fury, frowning, spoke.

“Michael, why didn’t you answer my call?”

“Sorry, I was busy. Is there something you need?”

Despite his words, Michael showed no sign of apology.

Nick Fury didn’t dwell on it and simply said, “Are you familiar with the mythological god of thunder?”

“Yes, I am.”

Michael perked up immediately. Was this a chance for a state-sponsored trip? That would be much more fun.

Noticing Michael’s change in demeanor, Fury continued, “A few days ago, a hammer fell in New Mexico, and at the same time, a man claiming to be the god of thunder appeared. I want you to go and investigate.”

“No problem. I’m quite interested in dissecting a god.”

Michael was unusually excited. He wondered if Odin would sit still if Thor were dissected.

Hearing Michael’s intention to dissect the god of thunder, Fury was immediately flustered.

“No, we don’t fully understand these so-called gods or Asgard as an organization. You can’t dissect him. You may study him, but absolutely must not let him die, understood?”

You may not understand, but I do, thought Michael. Asgard is just the realm of gods, Odin’s domain.

But dissecting Thor really was a dangerous idea, so Michael forcibly suppressed the thought.

Still, he believed every biologist in the world wished to personally dissect a god or an alien.

And Thor happened to be both.

Without delay, Michael set out for New Mexico. Only once aboard the jet did he realize he might have forgotten something.

Ah, Rhode’s armor. Well, let him wait—Thor was far more interesting than Rhode.

When Michael arrived, a temporary defense base had already been constructed. Showing his credentials, Agent Coulson quickly came out to greet him.

“Dr. Michael, please follow me.”

They soon arrived at the site of the hammer. Coulson explained, “This hammer doesn’t look large, but no one can pick it up. We’ve deciphered the inscription: ‘Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor.’”

“It must have fallen from the sky—there are clear impact marks. Some locals witnessed the meteor fall and even took photos.”

Michael glanced at the photos; they indeed resembled a meteor strike.

Coulson continued, “Along with the hammer, this man fell. He was mistaken for a drunken vagrant, stunned and sent to the hospital. He caused quite a commotion there, was injected with a sedative, and kept babbling about ‘Thor, Odin, Heimdall, Rainbow Bridge,’ leading doctors to suspect he was under the influence of drugs. He’s currently with a research team studying auroras. Their professor has some expertise in spatial science.”

Michael looked at Thor’s photograph and smiled. “He’ll come here.”

He walked up to the hammer and tried to lift it; it didn’t budge.

“You’re making me look bad here.”

What exactly were the requirements for picking up the hammer? Odin never made it clear—only said one could lift it if worthy.

If going by the first film, Odin wanted Thor to understand the qualities befitting a king.

But then why was Captain America able to lift it later? What was the real reason?

“Need some help?” Keisha asked.

Michael shook his head. “No need.”

Keisha continued, “Odin’s enchantment is like an encrypted password. With sufficient computational power, it can be cracked.”

“No need—let Odin’s spell remain.”

Coulson crouched down and said to Michael, “Dr. Michael, don’t feel bad. In fact, no one has managed to pick it up.”

“I know. That’s not the issue.”

Michael stood up and continued, “That research team must have observed something. Bring their materials here. And give me a copy of that professor’s work on spatial science.”

“Yes, sir.” Coulson left immediately.

Thor’s story, simply put, was Thor’s transformation journey on Earth, and Loki’s treacherous adventure.

To gain his foster father’s approval, Loki had personally tricked his own father into Asgard and stabbed him to death.

Michael glanced at the equipment around him, most of it flickering due to the hammer’s presence.

He opened his laptop and found it behaving the same way.

“Looks like I need to make a device to prevent electromagnetic interference.”

Boom—

“Oh, looks like it’ll rain tonight.”

There was nothing more to study about the hammer, so Michael decided to design Rhode’s Patriot armor first.

…

Jane had just said goodbye to Thor when she saw someone driving away in their car.

“That’s our stuff?”

She and her companions hurried back, only to find a group of people moving their things.

“What’s going on here?”

Coulson noticed them and said, “Miss Jane Foster, hello. I’m Agent Coulson from S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Jane stared at Coulson, demanding, “Shouldn’t I know what’s happening?”

Professor Selvig saw trouble brewing and said to Jane, “Jane, you shouldn’t do this. This is more serious than you think. Just let it go.”

Jane Foster stubbornly replied, “Let it go? This is my life, my entire research.”

Coulson continued, “We’re investigating a security threat and need to requisition your atmospheric research data—all your recorded information.”

“Requisition? Isn’t that stealing?”

Coulson took out an envelope and handed it to Jane Foster. “This is compensation.”

Jane Foster nearly exploded with anger as she took it.

“Do you realize this equipment can’t be bought? I built it myself.”

“I believe you can build another.”

Jane Foster, furious, said, “I think I have the right to sue you.”

Coulson, seeing the packing finished, prepared to leave. “Sorry, Miss Foster. We’re the good guys.”

“So are we.”

Jane Foster persisted, “We’re about to discover something incredible. I’ve recorded everything in this notebook. If you want it, take it—”

Another agent casually took Jane Foster’s notebook from her hands, tossed it into the car, and locked the back door.

Jane Foster was stunned by the series of actions.

She snapped out of it, wanting to punch Coulson, but Professor Selvig stopped her.

In the end, Jane Foster could only watch as Coulson drove away.

The group sat on the second-floor balcony, watching the departing convoy, feeling like defeated dogs who had lost their dreams.