An all new fear clenches in Thor's belly as the truth of that statement sinks in. They can't kill Thanos. Not without destroying everything, more thoroughly than when the Titan had snapped his fingers, even deeper than what he now intends to do. And Thor can't help but wonder if this is why he was so assured of his inevitability, if he knew that he would win regardless of what they did.
But surrender is not in Thor's nature, and he could no more turn from this battle now than he ever could.
He screams out in rage and defiance, charging into battle, wielding both axe and hammer with a desperate determination, their mutual battle experience bringing them together as though they'd never left. Lightning and blue fire wreathes Thor and his weapons both as he seeks out the openings Stark makes him, moving without hesitation into the gap Steve leaves when he is ejected from the brawl, an ebb and flow as natural as breathing as they fill the gaps the others make. Habit and training guide his limbs without pause, and if ever Thor was truly a god, he channels that part of him now to strike against the monster that slaughtered a universe.
But they aren't an army. And the three of them are not enough.
One by one, they fall, until Thor finds himself weaponless, being stomped into the rubble hard enough that his ribs would break if not for his armor, Thanos all but kneeling on him as he beats the Asgardian into the dirt. Thor reaches out a hand and calls to Stormbreaker, but a large purple hand intercepts the axe, swinging the blade down toward Thor's chest. His hands come up to grab at the Titan's arm, metal and flesh both straining to keep that immaculately sharp blade at bay, but inch by inch it creeps closer and closer.
It's in this moment, staring death in the face as it looms over him and grins, that Thor suddenly realizes that he is not ready to die after all.
He's wanted nothing more for months, to meet his end in battle and erase his greatest shame, to earn his place in Valhalla and see his mother and father and brother again. He's wanted nothing more than an end to his suffering, to finally move on and rest, and let his people heal themselves without him weighing them down. But if he dies here, then so does everyone who still lives, everyone else who was spared the genocide that halved the universe. He can't die here, not now, not when they are so close to righting what went wrong. To saving the universe.
And it's now that Thor thinks of Loki, and a promise made to return, and in this moment he wants nothing more than to make good on that promise and never look back. To live, in all ways, and find the courage and the strength to make a future for himself and his people. To set aside his guilt and grief, and grow.
Now he may not have the chance, and Thor would give anything to take it all back.
His arms shake from the effort of holding Stormbreaker at bay, that razor-sharp blade creeping down and down until it begins to part the metal of his cuirass, pushed inexorably toward his heart.
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But surrender is not in Thor's nature, and he could no more turn from this battle now than he ever could.
He screams out in rage and defiance, charging into battle, wielding both axe and hammer with a desperate determination, their mutual battle experience bringing them together as though they'd never left. Lightning and blue fire wreathes Thor and his weapons both as he seeks out the openings Stark makes him, moving without hesitation into the gap Steve leaves when he is ejected from the brawl, an ebb and flow as natural as breathing as they fill the gaps the others make. Habit and training guide his limbs without pause, and if ever Thor was truly a god, he channels that part of him now to strike against the monster that slaughtered a universe.
But they aren't an army. And the three of them are not enough.
One by one, they fall, until Thor finds himself weaponless, being stomped into the rubble hard enough that his ribs would break if not for his armor, Thanos all but kneeling on him as he beats the Asgardian into the dirt. Thor reaches out a hand and calls to Stormbreaker, but a large purple hand intercepts the axe, swinging the blade down toward Thor's chest. His hands come up to grab at the Titan's arm, metal and flesh both straining to keep that immaculately sharp blade at bay, but inch by inch it creeps closer and closer.
It's in this moment, staring death in the face as it looms over him and grins, that Thor suddenly realizes that he is not ready to die after all.
He's wanted nothing more for months, to meet his end in battle and erase his greatest shame, to earn his place in Valhalla and see his mother and father and brother again. He's wanted nothing more than an end to his suffering, to finally move on and rest, and let his people heal themselves without him weighing them down. But if he dies here, then so does everyone who still lives, everyone else who was spared the genocide that halved the universe. He can't die here, not now, not when they are so close to righting what went wrong. To saving the universe.
And it's now that Thor thinks of Loki, and a promise made to return, and in this moment he wants nothing more than to make good on that promise and never look back. To live, in all ways, and find the courage and the strength to make a future for himself and his people. To set aside his guilt and grief, and grow.
Now he may not have the chance, and Thor would give anything to take it all back.
His arms shake from the effort of holding Stormbreaker at bay, that razor-sharp blade creeping down and down until it begins to part the metal of his cuirass, pushed inexorably toward his heart.