Weight

It was a ritual he had grown used to. Sitting in quiet contemplation. Hands not quite steepled, with a small space between them, as if holding something. Staring at whatever lied in front of him without really looking at it.

In these moments, Thor only saw the past. And while not nigh omniscient like his father Odin had been, he could still see it all. It had begun with the final tale of Asgard. A Ragnarok like no other. His own brother slain.

And then it had been Midgard's turn. No... it had been the UNIVERSE'S turn. Robbed of half its life in the same finger snap that had burned the thief's name in Thor's mind forever.

Thanos of Titan. Thanos the madman, slayer of gods. Slayer of all- no. Slayer of half. It was he who had wiped out Thor's godly brethren so he could preside over the universe as a pantheon of one. Wielding a gauntlet that made even the most powerful weapons of Asgard seem like children's toys. He sought to bring to the universe the balance his own mind lacked. Genocide, he had decided, would set the scales right.

No. It was more than the Mad Titan's mere name that lingered in the mind of the son of Odin. It was an image. The haunting smirk of Thanos, who, despite the pain he no doubt felt from Thor's battle-axe Stormbreaker embedded in his chest, still found the strength to mock the son of Odin for not starting with a killing blow. His final words before he had escaped… those taunting, brutal, truthful words… had rung in Thor's ears ever since.

His eyes drifted toward Stormbreaker, which lay against the wall next to the room's entrance. And in that moment… Thor thought of Mjolnir. His mighty hammer of old. Lost to him like everything else in Asgard he had loved. If he willed it hard enough, could it somehow come back to him, as it faithfully had every time when thrown? And if he could hold it once more, would Thor still be able to break its enchantment and lift it? Would he still be worthy?

He let his heavy head fall into his hands, chiding himself for such childish thoughts. It was the last question he scolded himself for the most. So self-serving. A foolish contemplation. In part because deep down, in the depths of his heart…

…. the Odinson already knew the answer.