The Mighty Thor: Moxy

It was unfortunate that he had to abandon his friends, but Thor Odinson was Odinson first and foremost, and guardian of Midgard second. And Avenger third.

He missed when the two were the same, but with what was now a long history of infighting amongst the heroes of Midgard, and the rifts caused by the very leaders of the Avengers -- which changed far too often for his liking in the first place -- the truth was that the concepts could no longer be conflated. That said, the Avengers had recently gone to great lengths to try and make it so once again, and they were efforts that Thor wanted to support.

He had been assigned to a team called Avengers Intergalactic, which would be operating outside of Midgard. While that would usually be against his wishes, Tony Stark convinced him otherwise with a variety of arguments -- few of which he could now recall -- and a personal request to give it one chance.

However, destiny seemed to be intent on troubling the Avengers’ design, as was usual. “Captain Marvel shall be fine!” Thor yelled at himself. “She is an experienced warrior, and so are her companions!”

Except for the demented one, who calls himself Mr. Immortal. Thor was not familiar with that one.

Yelling in the middle of space would be an awkward thing to do if there were anyone around to listen, but in the void, no one can hear anything. Not even him. Well, Heimdall could.

Are you clear? Heimdall’s voice reached, with effort.

“Aye!” Thor replied in earnest. “Open the Bifrost, Heimdall!”

Thor watched as the nothingness in front of him was suddenly blasted with beams of light, of all colors. He braced himself for the rush in his gut, and smiled expectantly.

And then, all of a sudden, he was at Asgard’s gates. Thor stomped hard, to stop his momentum, and in so doing, caused multiple would-be opponents to be thrown back by the concussive force. Heimdall held fast by grasping his sword and crouching low. His old friend was sweating, and apparently, no one else was coming because Heimdall pulled the sword out of the ground and took a fighting stance.

Thor looked upon the group of twenty enemies with some confusion. “What is this?!”

Dark Elves littered the inside of Heimdall’s temple, and two of them jumped for Thor.

“Heimdall!” Thor demanded while smacking the two elves so violently it sent them flying to smash against the walls, suffering collisions that put them twice unconscious. “What is happening?!”

“Let us clear the room, Thor,” Heimdall said in reply.

If Heimdall was not sending Thor straight to the palace, the situation might not be as dire as it appeared. Still, the rest of the dark elves had all but recuperated from the shock of his arrival, and they promptly charged the two of them. Thor grasped Mjolnir and smiled, anticipating a good fight.

They came with knives and short swords, and some bows, for those were the weapons of the dark elves. With Mjolnir spinning, Thor parried the blows and blocked the strikes. Heimdall, using his longsword, proceeded to skewer as many as he could get within his reach, which were not that many since Thor quickly went on the attack, leaping from elf to elf, knocking one out with every single blow.

Straight and true would Thor leap in, spinning Mjolnir to open their defenses, and throwing his left fist to harshly bash their faces aside, or their chests in.

Within half a minute, the twenty dark elves had been put to rest, one way or another. Soon as Thor saw the last one fall, he turned to Heimdall and chuckled.

“I hope there is more to this threat than this paltry sum, Heimdall. You said the kingdom was in dire danger.”

Heimdall pulled his sword out from a Dark Elf’s chest and swung the blood away. “And I did not mislead you.”

“Well, tell me then--”

“Thor!”

A sharp pain sunk into his back. Grunting in protest, Thor wasted no time on thoughts, turning around at once to reach for the enemy. He grabbed hold of feathered wings. He pulled and hammered down with violence, crushing the threat against the floor. Only then did he realized who and what had attacked him.

At his feet was a well-armored woman warrior, donned with wings of grey. Confusion truly hit him then.

“An angel?!” Thor’s eyes glanced a few inches aside to land on the Dark Elf resting right beside the angel. His back was still stinging, but it was nothing he couldn’t deal with. “What is this, Heimdall? The hosts of Heven have allied with Malekith?!”

“Not only them,” Heimdall said, gravely. “A great alliance has set themselves upon us with all their numbers, and we know not the reason. They began the siege scarce hours ago.”

Thor looked out the exit, towards the bridge. With great surprise, he recognized the mighty frozen legs of an ice giant

“Odin’s beard,” Thor gasped. “They have sure made themselves at home. Is there more you can tell me, Heimdall, before I set out?”

“Nay,” he said at once. “I stand here waiting for further reinforcements. Some of our best were on missions, so I am tasked to bring them home.” Having said that, Heimdall turned his all-seeing eyes away, but Thor did not follow them.

His nostrils flared, and Mjolnir began to spin around his hand. Thor looked up somewhat, noticing the sunny weather that stood over the war that was taking place.

“Well. This collection of miscreants has picked a fine day to attack Asgard. Sunshine and rainbows have been here to greet them, but that time is now passed.” His voice echoed and rumbled, and Thor stepped forth.

Exiting onto the bridge, Thor saw as the frost giant’s feet turned. He looked up to meet his eyes and a found a glare of realization.

Of dreaded realization.

“The storm has come, invaders,” Thor announced, lightning cracking away from Mjolnir. Electricity danced around his arms. In the distance, thunder.

“And it shall rage!”