The morning sun spilled over the New Mexico desert, turning the dust into a dull shimmer. Jane's old van rattled along the back road, suspension groaning at every bump. Thor sat at the window, staring at the horizon, his thoughts fixed on the hammer buried in the sand. Jane kept both hands on the wheel, though her eyes kept drifting to the rear-view mirror, checking the car that trailed behind them.

  That car which Lily had pulled it—quite literally—out of her pocket. For Jane, watching the little girl toss down what looked like a toy and then expand it into a working vehicle was nearly enough to break her grip on reality. If Lily hadn't immediately started rattling off an explanation about Pym Particles Jane might had lost her mind.

  In the second car, Lily drove with surprising focus for someone so young. Darcy sat in the passenger seat, crinkling a chip bag in her hands, while Freya reclined in the back with effortless poise, as if a cramped vehicle on a desert road was still her rightful throne.

  "Are you sure this is still a science, not magic?" Darcy asked out of curiosity.

  Lily flashed her a smile. "You could say that." removing one offer hand from the staring wheel With a flourish, she take out a cupcake seemingly from nowhere, then give it to Darcy, who stared in wide-eyed amazement.

  As both vehicles arrived at the makeshift parking area of the crash site there was already a large crowd most of them were locals and passersby, all drawn by the mystery of the hammer that had fallen from the sky. Someone had strung up a rope around the crater, but there was no security yet; men tried their luck for internet fame, grunting and straining as the hammer refused to budge.

  Thor stepped out, his presence turning heads. Most thought him just another strongman,but Jane watched with quiet hope, understanding more than most the gravity of the moment.

  Thor strode to Mjolnir. He crouched, wrapped his hands around the handle, and pulled—with all the strength of a man once divine. The hammer didn't move. Thor tried again, teeth clenched, muscles trembling. Still nothing. Sweat prickled at his brow. The spectators watched, amused and disappointed, as strongman was bested by impossible physics.

  Jane approached him quietly, worried in her eyes for some reason she was quite attractive to this man.

  Thor was silent, his shoulders heavy with defeat; Darcy started a running commentary for her phone, and Selvig circled, muttering about "These… these look like Elder runes "

  Freya stood away from the crowd, eyes narrowing on the ancient runes etched into the hammer's surface. She beckoned Lily over, her voice low but firm. "There are laws written both in magic and in judgment." She extended her hand. "Try, maybe because of your blessing plus with my little help you might be able to pick."

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  Lily skipped through the crowd, her expression light and curious, though her steps slowed as she drew near the hammer. She reached beside it, fingertips hovering over the ancient runes.

  Freya moved closer, A soft glow bloomed in her palm, threads of golden magic unfurling like strands of dawn. She extended it toward Lily, her voice calm but carrying over the murmurs of the crowd.

  "Do not fight it," Freya instructed. "Let it feel who you are."

  The light wrapped around Lily's wrist,

  As she grinned and placed her hand firmly on the handle. A surge of power rippled through her—wild, sparkling, unpredictable—yet anchored by Freya's guiding magic.

  Mjolnir trembled. Sparks snapped across its surface, and with a sound like stone breaking, it rose from the crater. Gasps tore from the onlookers as the little girl lifted the hammer.

  But then came the weight—ancient, spectral, unrelenting. It pressed into Lily's chest, not just heaviness but judgment. Her grin faltered; her arm quivered. Freya stepped closer, her presence quiet but firm, her power brushing against Lily's like a steady hand.

  Lily drew a sharp breath, steadied herself, and refused to let go. With a surge of will—and Freya's unseen strength bolstering her—the hammer lifted clear of the crater. Mjolnir in her grasp, its runes blazing with light as if recognizing her defiance.

  Thor stared, first in awe, then in confusion and frustration. How Had the little girl able to pick up the hammer but after looking at Freya's again he realised she might be the reason.

  Freya's glow faded, but her smile lingered. " let's go back and give this Hammer to Hephaestus, she should be able to remove those restrictions."

  Lily grinned and turned back to the group, "it doesn't look as good as my gun."

  As civilians around getting curious about the hammer with the sparks the rumble of engines broke the morning peace. Black SUVs, tactical vans, and armored jeeps roared onto the scene. S.H.I.E.L.D. was here—feancing going up, agents assembling with alarming discipline. The crowd shrank, locals and gawkers fleeing as the area was swiftly locked down.

  From among the agents, a striking woman approached—her eyes cold, her stride predatory. Natasha Romanoff, known in official circles as Black Widow, arrived with the clarity of authority and the subtlety of threat.

  She didn't raise her voice, but every syllable demanded attention. "why don't we have friendly conversation," she said, eyes darting from Jane to Thor, then to Lily and Freya. "I recommend you come quietly."

  Jane shivered, uncertain. Darcy muttered, "Uh, are we in trouble?" Selvig already inventoried his equipment, worried for his findings.

  Freya's hand drifted to her magic—she could whisk them away in a flicker of divine light. Lily smiled wide, considering negotiation and escape at the same time.

  Thor looked back at the hammer, resolving kindling in his features. Denied by magic, denied by fate. He also needed a place to cool down and have dinner maybe and a few bottles.

  As S.H.I.E.L.D. agents led them toward the armored vehicles, Lily whispered to Freya, " that reminds me Luther was quite interested in her should we also pick her up before going back."

  Freya nodded, amusement flickering in her ancient eyes. She, too, found the idea appealing; Natasha's soul gleamed with sharp potential. With a little guidance—just as she had done countless times before in her own world with promising children—this one could be shaped into something far greater.

  Natasha Romanoff lingered, watching the visitors with interest. She had seen Luther and his monsters but these two—Lily and Freya—were wild cards. As an excellent agent she needed to gather all the information before starting the conflict.

  As the sun climbed, painting the sand and scrub brush with light, the convoy rolled away, dust trailing in its wake. Thor kept his eyes on the hammer, still waiting, still hoping. Black Widow sets her sights on the newcomers, plotting new ways to unravel their secrets.

  And far off, in a hidden forge and gods' halls, fate watched with a smirk—knowing the trials of worthiness had only just begun.