Isabel's Diner was the only place in Puente Antiguo that served breakfast after noon.

  I sat in a booth near the back, away from the window. My suit jacket was folded neatly next to me. I was cutting a steak, medium rare into precise, bite-sized squares.

  The diner was quiet until they walked in.

  Jane Foster looked exhausted, her hair was a mess. Darcy Lewis was texting, looking bored. And behind them, filling the doorway like a confused bear, was the man they had hit with their van twice.

  Thor.

  He was wearing a flannel shirt that was too tight across the shoulders and jeans that had seen better days. But he didn't walk like a drifter. He walked like he owned the floorboards.

  I didn't look up. I continued to eat, listening to the chaos unfold at the counter.

  "This mortal form has grown weak," Thor boomed, his voice rattling the napkin dispensers. "I need sustenance!"

  "Okay, okay, shh," Jane hissed, trying to steer him to a table. "Just sit down. We'll get you pancakes."

  I took a sip of my tea. It was bagged Lipton, not Earl Grey, but I made do.

  I watched from the corner of my eye as Thor devoured a plate of eggs, a stack of pancakes, and two Pop-Tarts in under three minutes. He ate with the ferocity of a man who usually feasted in halls where the food never ran out.

  Then came the coffee.

  Thor downed the mug in one gulp. He grinned, a genuine, boisterous expression.

  "This drink, I like it!" Thor shouted.

  SMASH.

  He threw the ceramic mug onto the floor, shattering it into a dozen pieces. "ANOTHER!"

  The diner went silent. Isabel, the owner, stared at the broken shards. Jane put her head in her hands.

  "I'm so sorry," Jane stammered, pulling out her wallet. "He's... he's not from around here."

  Thor looked confused. "Why is everyone looking at me? It was a compliment!"

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  He stood up, looking for more. His eyes scanned the room, landing on me.

  I was the only other person in the diner not staring at the broken cup. I was calmly chewing my steak.

  Thor's eyes narrowed. He saw the suit. The posture. The black Rolls-Royce he must have passed in the parking lot. In his mind currently stripped of wisdom but full of entitlement he saw a peer. Or a resource.

  He marched over to my booth.

  "You!" Thor announced, slamming a hand onto my table.

  The silverware rattled. My tea rippled.

  I stopped cutting my steak. I didn't look up immediately. I placed the knife and fork down, parallel to each other.

  "You have the bearing of a man of means," Thor declared, leaning in. "I require a steed. Or that metal carriage outside. I must go west, to the crater. The challenge awaits."

  Jane was rushing over. "Oh my god, I am so sorry, sir. He's... he's leaving. Thor, stop harassing the customers!"

  "I am not harassing, Jane!" Thor argued, not taking his eyes off me. "I am commandeering. This man understands. Look at him. He is no peasant."

  He looked back at me, grinning expectantly. "Well? Name your price, mortal. Gold? Gems? I will repay you when I return to Asgard."

  I finally looked up.

  I turned my head slowly. I locked eyes with him.

  Thor was smiling, his chest puffed out, waiting for me to scramble for his keys.

  Then, I let the mask slip. Just for a microsecond.

  I didn't use the Mind Control. I didn't use the Telekinesis.

  I simply opened the door to the Abyss.

  The air around the booth didn't change temperature, but to Thor, the world suddenly went cold. The diner vanished. The sunlight vanished.

  For that split second, the arrogant Prince of Asgard wasn't looking at a businessman in a suit. He was looking into a deep ocean of blood. And a predator looking at him.

  He saw Authority.

  The smile fell off Thor's face.

  His blue eyes widened. His pupils contracted to pinpricks. The warrior instinct, the one thing Odin couldn't strip away screamed at him.

  Do not provoke.

  Thor flinched. He physically recoiled, taking a stumbling step back, his hand coming off the table as if it had been burned.

  The pressure vanished as quickly as it had appeared. I was just a man eating a steak again.

  "It is not a carriage for sale," I said softly. My voice was calm, polite, but final. "And the crater is not a place for tourists."

  Thor stood there, blinking. He was breathing hard, sweat suddenly beading on his forehead. He looked at me, confused, trying to reconcile the mortal appearance with the monster he had just sensed.

  "I..." Thor stammered. The booming voice was gone. "I... apologies."

  He looked down at his feet. The arrogance was punctured, replaced by a wary, animalistic respect.

  "Thor?" Jane asked, touching his arm, looking at him weirdly. "You okay?"

  Thor nodded slowly, never taking his eyes off me.

  "Yes," Thor whispered. "We should... we should leave this place, Jane."

  He backed away. He didn't turn his back on me until he was at the door. It was the retreat of a wolf leaving the territory of a bear.

  "Sorry!" Darcy yelled, waving at me as she dragged Jane out. "He's usually more... actually, no, he's usually exactly like this."

  The door chimed as they left.

  I picked up my fork.

  Isabel walked over with a pot of coffee, looking at the door. "Weirdo. Did he bother you, hon?"

  "Not at all," I said, cutting another piece of steak. "He just realized he was at the wrong table."

  I ate the piece of meat.

  Outside, the van peeled out of the parking lot, heading west. Toward the hammer.

  "Go ahead, Odinson," I murmured to the empty seat opposite me. "Go find out that you can't lift it."