Marvel's Strongest Mage

The sky stretched vast and crystal clear overhead, a rare breath of calm even in the heart of the desert. The dry air felt less stifling today, the horizon sharp and endless.

On a quiet slope not far from the base, a group of people had gathered for a farewell. Asgardian armor gleamed in the sunlight—Sif and the three warriors of Asgard stood tall, their presence dignified yet warm. Thor embraced each of his companions, arms wide, laughter easy, his aura unmistakably noble.

"Don't worry, Coulson of S.H.I.E.L.D.," Thor said, clapping the agent's shoulder with his usual enthusiasm. "Once things settle in Asgard, I'll keep my promise."

Coulson, rarely one for open emotion, allowed himself a genuine smile. It was clear something had transpired between them last night—something more than camaraderie. A private arrangement, perhaps. One of many covert agreements men like Coulson made with gods who walked like men.

Despite Thor's boisterous personality, he was no fool. Behind the cheer and golden locks was a mind that understood diplomacy as well as war.

Thor turned next to Stark.

"I'll try to get you some Uru metal," he said with slight hesitation. "But not much. And it will take time. The dwarves of Nidavellir don't part with it easily."

Stark simply grinned. "That's fine. Even a scrap is enough for research."

Daniel heard the exchange and felt a ripple of unease stir in his chest.

Research? Stark's curiosity was never without consequence.

In the Marvel Universe, only three metals truly stood apart—Vibranium, Uru, and Yaka.

Vibranium was Earth's most famous. Captain America's shield, Wolverine's adamantium claws, Deadpool's twin blades, even the nanosuit that Stark wore—Vibranium had shaped modern weaponry.

Uru was rarer still, found only in Asgard. It forged Mjolnir, the Eternal Spear, the Destroyer armor, and countless other mythical relics. Unlike Vibranium, it wasn't just durable—it was magical. It could channel and store vast quantities of mystical energy.

Then there was Yaka metal—unique to Yondu and his kind. Responsive to sound, it obeyed voice and whistle with perfect precision.

So… what did Stark plan to build with Uru?

It wasn't paranoia. Stark was infamous for designing weapons and counters for every potential threat—friend or foe.

Just like Batman in another universe, Stark had his own catalog of "just-in-case" measures. Anti-Hulk armor. Anti-Magneto gear. Rumors even whispered of an Anti-Thor suit. If Uru metal was part of his next design…

Daniel couldn't afford to ignore it.

After all, he had revealed quite a bit of his true power in the recent battle against the Destroyer. Stark's AI, Jarvis, and SHIELD's analysts were undoubtedly dissecting every frame of that fight by now.

It wouldn't be long before they saw him as a variable to control.

And when that happened… he needed to be ready.

In another corner of the multiverse, Sentinel robots had nearly wiped out the entire mutant race. If not for Logan's time-traveling gamble, their world would have been nothing but ash and memory.

Men like Stark made tough decisions—decisions that often sacrificed the few for the many. And Daniel had no illusions about which side he might fall on.

His thoughts were broken by the sound of laughter—awkward, stilted.

Thor had moved to hug Jane Foster… but she had subtly stepped back, evading his arms. The moment was tense, uncomfortable, even painful to witness.

Daniel understood.

Jane had fallen in love with Donald Blake, not the God of Thunder. But Blake was gone. What remained was a stranger in familiar skin—and now, that stranger was about to leave.

Neither of them knew how to bridge the gap.

Maybe they never would.

Soon, Thor approached—Dr. Selvig and Darcy Lewis trailing behind him. He greeted Daniel with the broad smile of a warrior who had found an unexpected brother-in-arms.

"Daniel!" Thor beamed. "Next time we meet, I'll bring every rune I can find. I promise."

He slapped Daniel's back with a thunderous thud.

"You've helped me more than you know. Without you, none of this would've ended so cleanly."

Daniel stepped back, meeting Thor's eyes.

"Be careful. I'll hold you to that promise."

Thor nodded, then turned toward Sif and his fellow warriors.

Daniel watched him go, thoughtful.

Thor might one day become King of Asgard—change was inevitable. But this Thor, the one before Ragnarok, was a man worth trusting. Honest. Brave. Loyal.

Unlike Stark, he didn't plan five betrayals ahead.

And Thor understood what Daniel truly desired.

If Daniel was to become more than a man—if he was to ascend—he needed to master rune magic. Without divine empowerment from Odin, that path would be long and treacherous. But it was possible.

Rune magic was a gateway.

A powerful mage, even without godhood, could rival the divine.

Until the Infinity Stones were within reach, this was Daniel's best chance.

The runes Thor had shared—lightning, space—were priceless. Worth years of study. Thor's generosity hadn't gone unnoticed.

Thor stood before the Destroyer armor. With a wave of his hand, the armored chestplate parted like a blooming flower, wrapping around him in a seamless embrace.

The helmet sealed. Twin Mjolnirs materialized in the armor's hands, and bolts of lightning surged through the metal like living veins.

The sheer pressure that followed forced Coulson and the others to instinctively take several steps back.

Then, with each echoing rumble of thunder, rune sigils began to bloom along the ground—glowing, intricate, ancient.

A magic circle formed beneath Thor's feet.

Daniel recognized it immediately.

Rainbow Bridge summoning magic.

But something about it was different. Some of the sigils had been subtly altered. And the changes weren't random.

Daniel's blood went cold.

Had Thor intentionally taught him a flawed version of the summoning rune?

No—if the rune was truly faulty, then Loki, a master of rune magic himself, would've noticed. He could've let the spell fail, used the resulting magical backlash to harm Thor. But he hadn't.

Either Loki had missed it entirely… or Thor's version was accurate—just modified.

Daniel wasn't sure what scared him more.

But now, the true circle worked. Golden light erupted from the rune array, and with a sound like a thousand chimes, the Rainbow Bridge pierced through the sky.

It connected the heavens to the earth—brilliant, divine, impossibly vast.

Everyone squinted at its majesty.

Thor's voice echoed through the light.

"Farewell, my friends! Until destiny brings us together again!"

Then, with a flash, he and his companions vanished into the bridge—drawn into the stars beyond.

But something else tumbled out of the light.

Daniel reached up on instinct—and caught it mid-air.

Mjolnir.

Thor's hammer.

He stared at it, stunned, as a familiar voice echoed from the enchanted metal.

"Daniel, my friend… I said this hammer belongs to you. That hasn't changed. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

Maybe you should rename him, as my brother Beta Ray Bill once did. His hammer is now Stormbreaker. He's a Thor in his own right. So are you."

Daniel chuckled softly.

Of course. He wasn't the first to share the power of the gods. Beta Ray Bill—horse-faced, noble-hearted—had once stood in the gladiator arenas of Sakaar beside the Hulk, earning his own hammer and title.

This gift meant something.

Thor had recognized him. Claimed him as a brother-in-arms.

Even if Odin tried to object… Thor would stand in his way.

And for the first time in a long while, Daniel felt something profound stir in his chest.

A sense of Belonging.