Sam's life was getting more and more hectic every single day.
Between arguing with stubborn politicians in Washington, managing the Avengers, and keeping the peace between mutants and humans, he barely had a moment to breathe.
And just when he thought he could finally sit down and relax... he had to deal with Gods.
Sam sat at the small wooden table in his private, heavenly garden.
Sitting directly across from him was Odin, the All-Father and King of Asgard.
Odin was not wearing his heavy golden armor.
He wore simple, comfortable clothes.
He held a small, steaming cup of tea in his hands.
He had traveled all the way from Asgard to Earth just to thank Sam in person.
"You protected my wife, Frigga,"
Odin said quietly, his voice deep and rumbling.
"You guided Thor. You saved Loki from his own dark path. And... you gave Hela a home. For everything you did while I was in the Odinsleep, I thank you, Cultivator."
Sam nodded politely, taking a sip of his own tea.
"They are good people. They just needed someone to point them in the right direction."
Odin let out a long, heavy sigh. He looked down at his reflection in the tea. He looked incredibly old and deeply sad.
"I tried to build peace,"
Odin whispered.
"But my family is broken. Tell me the truth, Cultivator. What did I do wrong?"
Sam set his teacup down. He looked the King of the Gods right in his one good eye. He wasn't going to sugarcoat it.
"As a king, you did exactly what you had to do to protect your realm. You did nothing wrong as a leader,"
Sam told him bluntly.
"But as a father? You were a shitty father, Odin."
Odin blinked in surprise.
No one had ever spoken to him that way in thousands of years. But he didn't get angry. He just listened.
"Hela, Thor, and Loki are incredible,"
Sam continued, his voice calm but completely honest.
"They could have been a perfect team. They could be such wonderful, loving siblings. But you used crude, harsh methods to raise them. You used Hela as a weapon and then locked her away in the dark when you were done. You made Thor and Loki compete for your love and the throne, turning them into bitter rivals instead of brothers."
Odin closed his eyes, a heavy look of deep regret washing over his tired face.
"You are right,"
Odin admitted, his voice barely a whisper.
"I was a general raising soldiers, not a father raising children. But it is too late for me to fix it. I am so tired, Sam. My magic is fading. I do not have much time left."
Sam looked at the old man, and then he looked down at Odin's teacup.
A small, knowing smirk slowly appeared on Sam's face.
"You aren't going to die anytime soon, old man,"
Sam said smoothly.
Odin opened his eyes, completely confused.
"What do you mean? I can feel my end coming. Odinsleep barely restores me anymore."
Sam rested his arms on the table.
"Do you know what kind of tea you are drinking right now?"
Sam asked.
Odin looked down at the cup.
"I assumed it was just green tea."
"It is brewed from top-tier mutated Longevity Herbs I and my friend carefully bred,"
Sam chuckled, leaning back in his chair.
"I grew them right here in this garden using thick, pure Qi. You just drank an entire pot. I just gave you another one thousand years of lifespan."
Odin's jaw dropped. He completely froze.
He quickly closed his eyes and focused his mind inward.
He checked his magic and his life force. Instantly, he felt it. The heavy, crushing exhaustion that had been dragging him down for centuries was completely gone.
His body felt warm, light, and incredibly strong. His core was overflowing with fresh, vibrant energy.
The deep need for the Odinsleep had completely vanished.
Odin opened his eyes and stared at
Sam in absolute shock.
"By the Norns..."
Odin breathed out, his hand trembling as he set the teacup down.
"I came to Earth just to pay my respects. I never... I didn't think visiting this realm would benefit me like this."
"Now you have time,"
Sam smiled, his voice full of peaceful encouragement.
"You have a thousand years. It is more than enough time to step down from the throne, apologize to your children, and finally learn how to be a real father to them."
Odin let out a sudden, booming laugh.
It was a laugh full of pure joy and absolute relief.
The heavy burden of death had been lifted from his shoulders. He finally had a second chance.
Odin's loud, booming laugh echoed through the peaceful garden.
But suddenly, the heavy wooden door of the main house swung open.
The laughter stopped.
Hela walked out into the garden.
She wore a simple, dark dress, but her eyes were sharp and fierce. She stopped walking when she saw the old man sitting at the table.
Her hands instantly curled into tight fists.
The air around her grew heavy with pure anger.
A few months ago, she would have instantly summoned a hundred black blades to destroy him.
But living in this house, surrounded by Sam's deep love and the warm sisterhood had calmed her heart down a lot.
Odin slowly stood up from his chair.
He looked at his firstborn child with deep, genuine sadness.
"Hela,"
Odin said quietly, his voice breaking.
"I am so deeply sorry for what I did to you."
Hela did not say a word. She walked straight up to him, pulled her fist back, and punched the King of Asgard right in the face.
*Smack!*
Odin's head snapped back.
He stumbled a little, rubbing his jaw, but he did not raise his hand to fight back.
He knew he deserved it.
"I am only doing that once,"
Hela said, her voice cold but steady.
"That punch makes us even for the prison you put me in. But I still do not want to see you. You are not my king, and you are not my father anymore."
Odin nodded slowly. He accepted her harsh words because they were true.
"I understand,"
Odin whispered sadly.
"But your mother... Frigga misses you terribly, Hela. Her heart aches for you. You should come back home to Asgard from time to time. Just to see her."
Hela crossed her arms. The anger in her eyes softened just a little bit when he mentioned Frigga.
"I will come to visit Mother,"
Hela agreed firmly.
"But if I see you in the palace halls, I will pretend you do not exist."
"That is fair,"
Odin smiled, a single tear shining in his good eye.
"That is much more than I could ever ask for. Thank you, my daughter."
Hela turned around and walked back into the house without looking back.
Odin let out a long breath and turned back to Sam.
"I must go now,"
Odin said, fixing his jacket.
"I need to go visit Thor. But before I leave... I need your wisdom, Sam."
Sam remained seated, taking another calm sip of his tea.
"Ask me."
"Thor is meant to be the next King,"
Odin explained, looking torn.
"But his heart is here on Earth. Should I force him to come home and take the throne? Or should I let him be what he truly wants to be?"
Sam thought about Thor.
The God of Thunder was living on Earth full-time now.
Because Sam had taught Jane Foster how to cultivate, she was no longer sick or weak.
She and Thor were incredibly happy together.
They were living a beautiful, peaceful life.
Sam did not want to see his friend's happy life taken away just to sit on a cold, golden chair.
"Let Thor stay here,"
Sam answered smoothly.
"He is a warrior and an explorer. He is not meant to sit still and read laws all day."
"But who will rule Asgard after me?"
Odin asked, looking confused.
Sam smiled, thinking of the God of Mischief.
"Loki,"
Sam said simply.
"Loki?"
Odin gasped, completely surprised.
"Yes,"
Sam nodded, his eyes full of certainty.
"Loki has always wanted to prove he is worthy. He has a sharp mind for politics and a deep love for your kingdom. He was born for a glorious purpose, Odin. Why not actually give him a real chance to rule?"
Odin stood perfectly still, letting the words sink in.
He thought about Loki's clever mind and his desperate need to be a good son.
"Loki..."
Odin whispered, a bright light of realization hitting him.
"Yes. You are right. He has always had the mind of a king. I will talk to him."
Odin bowed deeply to Sam, a gesture of absolute, pure respect from a King to a Cultivator.
"Thank you,"
Odin said. And with a flash of bright magic, the All-Father was gone.
Sam sat alone in his beautiful garden.
He poured himself one last cup of tea and smiled.
He had just given the throne of Asgard to Loki and saved Thor's perfect relationship with Jane.
He had already completely changed the fate of the entire universe.
Changing just a little bit more really didn't matter at all.
Far, far away from Earth, in the deep, cold dark of space, there was a dead planet called Morag.
It was a quiet place, completely covered in heavy rain, gray mud, and broken ruins.
Inside the deepest room of an ancient, forgotten temple, a metal orb sat safely on a stone pedestal.
Inside that simple metal orb was the Power Stone.
A man walked into the dark room.
He wore a red leather jacket and a silver mask with glowing red eyes.
He pressed a button behind his ear, and the mask folded away, showing his messy hair. It was Peter Quill.
He liked to call himself Star-Lord.
"Finally,"
Peter whispered to himself, a huge smile growing on his face.
"I am going to get so rich."
He used a glowing magnetic tool to carefully pull the heavy metal orb off the pedestal.
It floated through the air, and he caught it smoothly in his hand.
But before he could put it in his bag, loud, heavy footsteps echoed in the temple.
"Drop it!"
A loud, angry voice commanded.
Peter turned around.
Standing in the doorway was Korath, a tall, scary cyborg warrior holding a massive gun.
Two alien soldiers stood right behind him.
"Hey, man,"
Peter said, putting his hands up casually and holding the orb out.
"Take it easy. I am just a simple scavenger. I am just looking for some old scrap metal."
"You are lying,"
Korath growled, pointing his weapon right at Peter's chest.
"You have no idea what you are holding in your hand. That orb belongs to Ronan the Accuser."
"Well, right now it belongs to me,"
Peter joked, trying his best to hide his fear.
"Who are you guys, anyway?"
"We are the ones who will bring true order to this broken galaxy,"
Korath said, his voice completely cold and serious.
"That orb contains true, absolute power. It is not a toy for a simple thief. It is a weapon meant to clean the universe. Hand it over now."
Peter looked down at the metal ball in his hand.
He didn't know what was inside it.
He didn't know anything about infinity stones.
He just knew a guy on a bright planet called Xandar was going to pay him a lot of money for it.
"Listen, buddy,"
Peter said, his voice turning a little more honest and serious.
"I don't care about cleaning the universe. I don't care about your boss, and I certainly don't care about absolute power. I just care about getting paid and staying alive."
"Then you will die for absolutely nothing,"
Korath said, his finger pulling back on the trigger.
"Actually,"
Peter smirked, pressing a hidden button on his belt.
"I go by Star-Lord. And I think I will just be leaving now."
[email protected]/phelio