A massive storm raged over the red deserts of New Mexico.
The Destroyer had been sent flying several kilometers away by a single kick from Níðhöggr, but that metallic giant, infused with Loki's obsession, forcibly repaired its mangled body and stood once more.
In the face of that overwhelming despair, Thor finally cast aside his arrogance and chose sacrifice.
Perhaps that noble spirit reached the heavens, for Mjölnir, which had been embedded in the distant S.H.I.E.L.D. camp, began to fly toward its master's hand, wreathed in lightning.
K-BOOM—!!
With a roar of thunder, Mjölnir was grasped in Thor's hand. Radiant silver armor enveloped his body, and his lost draconic authority—no, the Authority of Thunder—vibrated through the entire desert.
Thor was reborn as a 'God' once again.
But even in that touching moment of resurrection, Níðhöggr didn't give a damn about Thor's transformation.
"Hey, lady. You look pretty sexy in that armor, don't you?"
Regardless of whether Thor regained his strength or not, Níðhöggr was busy stroking the chin of the warrior woman Sif, who stood before him.
His eyes burned with a golden light, radiating his 'Maximum Output Authority of Charm.'
In the air, sweet yet deadly pheromones mingled visicidly with the dragon's mana.
"Y-You evil being... Stand back! I am Sif, a warrior of Asgard! I will not fall for your lowly tricks..."
Sif gritted her teeth and resisted.
She was the possessor of a strong mental fortitude, having spent hundreds of years roaming the battlefields.
However, Níðhöggr's authority was not a mere level of mind-bending illusion.
It was a catastrophe that forcibly dragged out the primal desires and sexual instincts dormant deep within the opponent's soul.
Níðhöggr pressed his lips close to her ear and whispered in a low voice.
"Don't pretend to be strong. Your heartbeat is already screaming that it wants me. Isn't your body too precious to let it rot while pining after that stupid prince over there?"
As Níðhöggr's fingers softly stroked down the nape of Sif's neck, her entire body trembled visibly.
Roughened breaths escaped her, so heavy they made her silver armor heave.
Finally, the sharpness of a warrior vanished from Sif's eyes, replaced by a thick, hazy fog of dazed lust.
"Ah... Ahhh... You... just who are..."
Sif dropped the sword she was holding to the ground.
Then, throwing away all her pride, she clung to Níðhöggr's neck.
It was the moment the noble warrior of Asgard completely surrendered to an unnamed villain.
Just then, Thor, who was about to let out a roar of victory while hoisting Mjölnir, witnessed the sight.
"Si... Sif?! What are you doing!"
Thor's jaw dropped.
Not only had his future lover Jane been taken from him, but now Sif—his comrade-in-arms for hundreds of years who harbored feelings for him—was writhing in the embrace of that decadent dragon.
Just as Thor's mental state was about to shatter, the Destroyer, acting on Loki's command, did not miss the opportunity.
ZZZZZZZZT—!!
A massive orange beam of destruction erupted from the Destroyer's face toward the dazed Thor.
"Uh? Thor! Watch out!"
The screams of the Warriors Three rang out, and Thor instinctively swung Mjölnir to deflect the beam.
BOOM! An enormous explosion stirred up a sandstorm.
Thor glared at Níðhöggr with eyes swirling with anger, jealousy, and responsibility before leaping toward the Destroyer.
"I'll settle the score with you later! First, I must crush this scrap metal!"
While Thor, wreathed in lightning, clashed with the Destroyer and made the desert flash, Níðhöggr lightly patted Sif's backside and called out to Ratatoskr.
"Hey, furball! Let's bounce!"
"Huh? Why so suddenly? There's plenty of stuff to watch here."
As Ratatoskr asked while chewing on an acorn, Níðhöggr shrugged his shoulders dismissively.
"That blond idiot got his hammer back. From here on out, it's just a boring hero movie. I've seen everything I wanted to see, and I've eaten everything I wanted to eat. Most importantly... I really miss Natasha right now."
Níðhöggr left Sif with the irresponsible promise of "I'll come to Asgard to pick you up later, lady," and then tore through the air to open a portal.
Ratatoskr grumbled, "He really does whatever he wants until the very end, that dumb lizard," but dove into the portal as if he were used to it.
Malibu, Tony Stark’s Mansion.
Contrast to the sandstorms of New Mexico, a cool breeze from the air conditioner greeted Níðhöggr.
The mansion was quiet.
Tony had not yet returned, occupied with the aftermath in New Mexico and worrying about his hair follicles.
As soon as Níðhöggr stepped into the living room, he caught a familiar and lethal scent tickling the tip of his nose.
"Natasha, I'm home. I thought I was going to die from missing you."
As Níðhöggr opened his bedroom door, a sight beyond imagination was waiting for him.
Natasha Romanoff was reclining on the bed, her red hair tousled messily.
She had long since discarded her S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform.
Wrapping her body was nothing but a dizzying black lace bra and a sensual garter belt trailing up her thigh line.
"You're too late, Nid."
Natasha whispered, crossing her legs seductively.
Her eyes were full of longing and obsession for Níðhöggr.
The coolness she possessed as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent was nowhere to be found, leaving only the aura of a lioness prepared to take in a man's desire.
"Do you know... how much I starved while you were gone?"
As Natasha slipped her fingers into the garter belt and snapped the stocking line, Níðhöggr's reason snapped instantly.
Indulging in Jane and Sif in New Mexico had been mere snacks.
This red-headed spy was the main course that heated his instincts most fiercely.
"Wow... Natasha. You really know how to make a man... no, a dragon go crazy."
Níðhöggr ripped his cumbersome shirt apart in one motion and lunged at her.
Natasha opened her arms to embrace him as if she had been waiting, her slender legs wrapping tightly around Níðhöggr's waist.
"Hurry... break me, Nid."
Níðhöggr's hot lips greedily swept down Natasha's neck and cleavage.
The sound of the bed creaking as their bodies entangled broke the silence.
Níðhöggr pushed her with the rough touch of a true villain, and Natasha saw heaven as she screamed amidst that pleasure mixed with pain.
The passionate night between Níðhöggr, the calamity of Yggdrasil, and Natasha, the spy who betrayed S.H.I.E.L.D., burned much more intensely and hotly than the war in the desert.
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