I am Thor

Stormbreaker, a weapon capable of shattering even the Infinity Stones, did not disappoint.

"Crack…"

The sound of Wakanda's protective shield shattering echoed across the battlefield. Erik stood frozen, his face pale as realization sank in—this was the end. Without the shield, he had no means to hold his ground. Even just facing T'Challa alone would have been a daunting task. Now, with the Avengers here, his dreams lay in ruins.

T'Challa stepped forward, his voice steady but laced with gravity. "Surrender, Erik. You will receive a fair trial."

Erik stared blankly at the scene before him, his vision blurring. Suddenly, he let out a furious shout: "No! I didn't lose!"

From his pocket, Erik pulled out a concealed controller and pressed a button.

"Boom!"

The ground beneath them erupted, sending smoke and debris billowing into the air. As visibility dropped, a sleek fighter jet crafted from vibranium emerged from the chaos, carrying Erik skyward.

Tony reacted immediately, firing a laser blast at maximum power. The beam struck the jet directly but left little more than a scorched mark.

"This is Wakanda's latest fighter," T'Challa said anxiously. "Its vibranium armor can withstand even a nuclear strike. If we don't stop him, its destructive power is equivalent to an entire army."

Tony turned to Thor, hoping for a solution, but it wasn't Thor who stepped forward.

It was Jean Grey.

Extending a hand, Jean's telekinetic power seized the fighter mid-air, holding it in place despite its thrusters roaring at full capacity. The jet trembled violently but could not move an inch. Thor nodded approvingly as Jean's power intensified. Slowly, she pulled the craft back toward the ground.

"Whoosh!"

With a sharp gesture, Jean wrenched the jet downward, slamming it upside down into the ground. Vibranium groaned as the fighter buckled under her unrelenting grip.

"Crack!"

A flick of her other hand tore the supposedly indestructible fuselage apart. Pieces of vibranium twisted into jagged spears, pinning Erik, who could only stare in stunned disbelief.

Jean smiled faintly. "This was my first move—I didn't want to disappoint him." With a subtle motion, she levitated Erik from the wreckage and dropped him unceremoniously at Thor's feet.

Thor crouched beside Erik, meeting his gaze. His voice was calm but firm. "From the very beginning, you were doomed to lose."

Erik looked up, his expression shifting between defiance and despair. Then, to everyone's surprise, he began to laugh—a manic, hollow sound.

"You're right," Erik said through gritted teeth. "I lost from the start. No amount of mortal strength can stop a god. But I don't regret it!"

Thor said nothing as Erik continued. "I just wanted to make those who enslaved us pay for everything they've done. All I wanted was revenge."

T'Challa stepped forward, his voice steady and resolute. "And yet most of your weapons were aimed at innocent civilians."

"Our people were innocent too!" Erik roared back, his voice shaking with emotion.

Thor sighed and rose to his feet, uninterested in their ideological clash. Arguments like these rarely ended with a victor.

Are the civilians of the United States innocent? Many were descendants of exiles, benefiting from atrocities committed by their ancestors. Look at the plight of the Indigenous peoples—they were wiped out, their lands stolen.

Were black people innocent? Thor acknowledged the horrors of enslavement and systemic oppression, but he also knew that Erik's rage had led him to target civilians indiscriminately. His initial plans even included Hong Kong, before Dormammu's intervention forced a change.

Thor reflected grimly: No one stands on truly clean ground. Not Erik, not T'Challa, not even himself. As Hela had once pointed out, Asgard's grandeur was built on the blood and tears of the Nine Realms.

This conflict was no longer a personal dispute between T'Challa and Erik—it had become a global catastrophe. Even T'Challa, with all his authority, could not spare Erik. His fate would be determined by an international tribunal. While the death penalty was unlikely, life imprisonment was almost a certainty.

But Erik had no intention of being caged.

"I will not be a prisoner," Erik said, his voice low but resolute. He pulled out a vibranium dagger, its edge gleaming. "Bury me in the sea, with my ancestors who leapt from the ships. They knew that freedom was worth more than life."

Before anyone could stop him, Erik drove the dagger into his own chest. His body slumped to the ground, his expression finally at peace.

Thor watched silently, his expression unreadable. Turning to the others, he motioned for them to leave, giving T'Challa a moment of solitude.

In all fairness, Erik was a villain, but a sympathetic one. His love for Wakanda and his people mirrored T'Challa's own, but his methods were born of pain and rage.

This wasn't a simple battle of good versus evil. It was a clash of ideologies—a radical demanding immediate, violent retribution, and a conservative yearning for peaceful progress.

T'Challa dreamed of Wakanda embracing the world, using its power to uplift the oppressed. But Erik, consumed by his past, sought to conquer the world through violence, believing it the only way to redress centuries of injustice.

In the end, Erik's downfall wasn't because justice always prevails—he lost because he chose the wrong path, and ultimately, the wrong allies.

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