Marvel: The Silver-Haired Hacker and Her Mecha Fleet

(Emergency Situation: This novel is suddenly showing as 'delisted' and is 'under review.' The author cannot promote it, and the search function for the book has been disabled. Damn you, Tomato Novel algorithm...)

The dead silence in the corridor persisted.

The warm, flickering light from the golden wall sconces fell gracefully upon Frigga's long white dress, casting a soft, angelic halo around the Queen of Asgard. Yet, her gentle, incredibly penetrating gaze still made Mira's scalp tingle violently. Mira's toes were curling so hard inside her shoes she was practically digging trenches into the white jade floor.

Her cybernetic processors were frantically drafting emergency tactical protocols.

If this situation goes completely south, do I just tear open a spatial wormhole and bolt?

But Frigga was standing precisely at the far end of the corridor, perfectly and completely blocking the only viable physical exit. This woman was the absolute apex sorceress of Asgard. Her mastery over Seidr magic was significantly higher and more ancient than Loki's, and he had spent his entire immortal life studying illusions. Whether Mira could successfully establish a wormhole and escape right out from under the Queen's nose was a terrifyingly uncertain variable.

Fight her head-on? Absolutely impossible.

Putting Frigga's royal status aside, strictly in terms of pure, raw strength—even though Mira had successfully unlocked Herrscher-level physics manipulation, her mathematical probability of successfully defeating a god-tier sorceress who had lived and fought for hundreds of thousands of years was incredibly slim.

Furthermore, they were standing inside the Golden Palace. If a high-yield kinetic fight broke out, Odin could literally teleport over in a microsecond, and then Mira would be permanently trapped in Asgard.

Just as a fierce, chaotic internal conflict raged within Mira's cybernetic mind—having frantically drafted and discarded three different versions of a groveling apology—Frigga suddenly moved.

Holding a beautiful, emerald-inlaid magical staff, the Queen walked slowly down the corridor toward Mira. Her footsteps were light and elegant, entirely devoid of any hostility. The magical aura radiating from her remained incredibly warm and gentle. She even offered Mira a tender, motherly smile.

"Do not be so nervous, child," Frigga's voice was incredibly soft, like melting snow in the spring. Her tone was so gentle it practically dripped with warmth. "I have no intention of harming you. Thor has already spoken to me. I know that while he was exiled in Midgard, it was entirely thanks to your intervention that the innocent mortals of that town were saved, along with the lives of my son and his comrades."

Mira froze instantly. Her digital eyes went wide and perfectly round.

"Huh?"

Thor had actually reported her existence to Frigga beforehand?

She had honestly assumed that Thor had sprinted into the Golden Palace to settle his bloody vendetta with Loki so frantically that he had completely forgotten about his 'VIP guest from Midgard,' let alone explicitly reporting her presence to his mother.

"When Thor returned, he specifically commanded the Einherjar guards that he had brought an honored guest from Midgard, and explicitly ordered them not to disturb you under any circumstances." Seeing Mira's look of utter, absolute bewilderment, Frigga couldn't help but chuckle. The profound tenderness in her eyes deepened.

"My son simply did not expect that his 'honored guest' would immediately sneak into the Royal Library... and while you were at it, help us clean up the Frost Giant infiltration squad that had snuck into the palace."

Well, she had been completely and utterly seen through.

The fake, innocent smile on Mira's face instantly shattered. She scratched her white hair awkwardly and gave up the charade, deciding it was safer to just own up to it.

"Um... Queen Mother, I swear I was just super curious and looking around! I definitely didn't steal anything! Honestly! I merely read the books; I didn't even physically move a single scroll from the shelves!"

Terrified that Frigga wouldn't believe her, Mira frantically raised her right hand as if swearing an oath in court. She looked exactly like a guilty child who had just been caught with her hand stuck deep in the cookie jar.

Looking at Mira's panicked, guilty expression, Frigga's smile grew even more profoundly tender.

She had lived for millennia. She had interacted with countless alien races, warlords, and cosmic entities across the Nine Realms. But she had never, ever encountered a child quite like Mira Vale.

Despite possessing an apocalyptic, terrifying level of power that could theoretically shake the foundations of Asgard, the girl's eyes were incredibly clean. There was not a single microscopic trace of malice, bloodlust, or political greed within her—only a boundless, innocent curiosity for the universe, and a healthy dose of lighthearted, chaotic mischief.

"I am well aware," Frigga nodded gently. She reached out and tenderly brushed away a tiny shard of jagged ice stuck in Mira's silver hair—residual fallout from when she had frozen the Frost Giants moments ago. "Every single tome and artifact within the Royal Archives possesses a magical signature placed personally by Odin and myself. You merely absorbed the contents without causing a single shred of physical damage, nor did you smuggle anything out. Naturally, I am aware."

Frigga paused. Her wise gaze shifted, falling onto the faint, flickering blue streams of binary code swirling nervously around Mira's fingertips. A distinct hint of profound curiosity and deep admiration flashed in the Queen's eyes.

"What truly surprises me, child, is the nature of your power. I have never witnessed such a fascinating system in all my years. It is not Seidr magic, nor is it Asgardian divine power. Yet, it can flawlessly, manipulate the fundamental laws of the universe. You play with frost, lightning, and spatial dimensions as if they were mere toys. It can even perfectly integrate our ancient Asgardian runes with your bizarre system of 'zeroes and ones.'"

"When exactly did an entity like you emerge in Midgard?"

Hearing Frigga's gentle curiosity, Mira finally relaxed. Since the Queen clearly had zero intention of holding her legally accountable for trespassing, hacking, or unauthorized manslaughter, there was no need to remain constantly on guard.

Mira opened up and casually began chatting with Frigga. She talked about everything from the localized lore of the Sirens, the existence of the Deep Sea Swarm, and her genuine reasons for visiting Asgard. Aside from strictly hiding the fourth-wall-breaking truth of her transmigration and her knowledge of the MCU plot, she basically told Frigga everything.

Frigga listened quietly, occasionally asking a highly intelligent, curious question. Her eyes were filled with gentle, motherly acceptance, entirely devoid of the typical Asgardian arrogance or xenophobic wariness. It looked exactly as if she were patiently listening to her own teenage daughter share interesting stories from school.

While the two women were chatting happily in the corridor, thousands of miles away at the edge of the Bifrost Bridge, the most profoundly tragic scene of Thor 1 was violently unfolding.

Minutes earlier, inside the royal bedchamber, right in front of the comatose Odin, Loki had brutally murdered his biological father, King Laufey, with a backstab. He completely exposed his manic, desperate ambition. Loki intended to weaponize the full, catastrophic energy output of the Bifrost to physically shatter the planet of Jotunheim, committing mass genocide against the Frost Giants to definitively prove to Odin that he was the ruthless king Asgard needed.

Thor arrived just in time. The two brothers engaged in a brutal, final, decisive battle across the Rainbow Bridge.

On one side was the desperate God of Mischief, seeking violent validation from his father. On the other was the God of Thunder, who had finally learned the heavy, painful meaning of sacrifice and protection.

Mjolnir's raw lightning violently clashed against Loki's chaotic illusions. The cosmic energy of the Bifrost surged wildly out of control. Deep within the cosmos, the icy crust of Jotunheim began to fracture and shatter under the bridge's relentless, planetary bombardment. Countless Frost Giants were turned to ash in the apocalyptic torrent of energy.

Finally, staring at the impending genocide of Jotunheim and the completely, tragically maddened state of his brother, Thor made his choice.

He raised Mjolnir high above his head, summoned every single ounce of his divine power, and slammed the hammer brutally, repeatedly into the crystalline surface of the Bifrost.

BOOM—!!

The Bifrost Bridge, reinforced with Uru metal, completely shattered under the apocalyptic kinetic impact of Mjolnir.

Violent, untethered spatial energy exploded instantly. The Rainbow Bridge was completely destroyed. The apocalyptic energy beam bombarding Jotunheim ceased abruptly. The realm of ice was finally saved from total destruction.

But the concussive shockwave was too massive. Thor and Loki, clinging to a broken, floating section of the bridge, were violently thrown into the infinite, churning cosmic void of the universe churning directly beneath the observatory.

Just as the two brothers were about to be swallowed by the lethal gravity of the void, Odin finally arrived.

The All-Father lunged forward, desperately reaching out and grabbing Thor's leg. Thor, hanging over the edge of the abyss, gripped Loki's staff with all his might. Odin used his remaining, exhausted divine strength to pull his sons back from the brink of death.

Loki looked up, staring directly at Odin—the father he had desperately, violently tried to gain recognition from his entire life.

The frantic, homicidal madness in Loki's eyes gradually faded, leaving behind nothing but profound, endless, absolute despair.

He looked at Odin, his voice cracking with tears.

"I could have done it, Father! I could have done it! For you! For all of us!"

"No, Loki," Odin whispered, his voice heavy with grief.

Hearing that final, absolute rejection, the last shred of light died in Loki's eyes.

He softly let go of the staff. He allowed the cosmic gravity to pull him backward, falling into the infinite, churning void, completely disappearing into the dark depths of the stars.

The Battle of the Bifrost officially ended with Loki's tragic fall.

Thor stood at the jagged edge of the shattered Bifrost, staring blankly down into the void where his brother had vanished. His blue eyes were flooded with profound guilt, agony, and tearing pain.

He had finally understood what it meant to be a true king and protector. But the price was too high. He had lost his little brother forever. He had physically destroyed the only bridge that connected the Nine Realms. He could no longer return to Midgard to see Jane Foster.

Odin stood beside his son. The All-Father heavily patted Thor's shoulder. His single eye was filled with extreme exhaustion and profound, complex sorrow, but he said absolutely nothing more.

The father and son stood at the edge of the abyss in total silence for a long time. Finally, they slowly turned and began the long, agonizing walk back toward the Golden Palace.

Both of their hearts were incredibly heavy. The grief was suffocating. They remained entirely silent the entire walk back along the long marble causeway spanning the sea of clouds.

But when they finally looked up and saw the scene unfolding directly in front of the Golden Palace's main gates... both the All-Father and the God of Thunder froze dead in their tracks.

The suffocating heaviness and profound pain etched into their faces were instantly, violently replaced by a look of unbelievable, absolute bewilderment.

Under the grand white marble colonnade at the palace entrance sat a beautifully crafted, highly ornate Asgardian bench.

Queen Frigga was sitting gracefully on the bench. Her long white dress trailed elegantly onto the marble floor. The gentle, golden sunlight of Asgard fell softly upon her hair, making her look exactly like a breathtaking goddess stepping out of an ancient painting.

And sitting directly on Frigga's lap was Mira Vale. The Siren looked utterly done with life, yet she was somehow strangely enjoying herself.

Frigga was holding an exquisite, silver Asgardian comb. She was gently, meticulously combing through Mira's long, silver hair, stroke by slow stroke. Her motherly movements were incredibly soft, perfectly smoothing out Mira's slightly messy locks. The Queen had even carefully braided two small, elegant Asgardian-style braids near Mira's temples, pinning them delicately with two glowing blue gemstones.

Mira was casually leaning back into Frigga's warm embrace. She was holding a small, ornate silver plate filled with Asgardian candied fruits. She happily popped a sweet treat into her mouth every few seconds, her cheeks puffed out exactly like a little squirrel hoarding food.

The terrifying Sovereign of the Abyss—the Eldritch anomaly who had casually smothered a nuclear explosion in New Mexico, physically toyed with the God of Mischief, and brutally insta-killed a squad of elite Frost Giants just ten minutes ago—was now sitting as still and well-behaved as a toddler being held down by her mother to get her hair done. She genuinely didn't dare to move a muscle.

The warm wind blew gently through the corridor, carrying the unique, sweet fragrance of Asgardian flowers. The scene was incredibly warm, deeply domestic, and profoundly harmonious.

It formed an incredibly sharp, violently absurd contrast with the tragic, life-and-death separation and the apocalyptic civil war the father and son had literally just experienced.

Thor was completely and utterly dumbfounded. His grip on Mjolnir loosened so much he nearly dropped the legendary hammer directly onto his own foot.

He had explicitly, firmly ordered Mira to stay right here at the entrance and not wander off so she wouldn't get hurt. As a result, he had sprinted off to fight an apocalyptic battle, watched his brother commit suicide by jumping into a black hole, and violently detonated the Bifrost... only to return and find the terrifying, nuclear-level VIP guest he had dragged from Midgard literally sitting on his mother's lap getting her hair braided?!

The psychological impact of this visual was simply too strong. Thor's brain completely blue-screened. He genuinely began to suspect if the traumatic events he had just experienced at the Bifrost were just a bad dream, and this absurd domestic scene was reality.

Odin was equally stunned. A massive flash of utter bewilderment crossed his single eye, rapidly followed by a flash of realization, and finally, a long, incredibly bitter smile.

The All-Father had lived for hundreds of thousands of years. He had weathered countless cosmic storms, orchestrated wars across the Nine Realms, and witnessed the rise and fall of universal empires. What chaotic scenario hadn't he seen?

Yet, this was the very first time in his immortal life he had ever witnessed an intruder who had successfully snuck into his highly classified Royal Library, pirated the entirety of Asgard's magical database, and violently executed five Frost Giants inside the palace... not only avoidbeing charged with treason, but instead be aggressively treated like a biological daughter by his Queen. She was literally being held, groomed, and hand-fed candy.

Sitting on Frigga's lap, Mira finally noticed the two men frozen like statues at the entrance.

The sweet candied fruit in her mouth instantly lost all of its flavor.

She was suddenly plunged into an absolute, apocalyptic social death scenario. The embarrassment was so intense she desperately wished she could tear open a spatial rift and crawl inside to die.

Oh my god, it's over.

She had originally assumed that Thor and Loki's cinematic battle would take much longer. But Frigga's motherly hair-combing technique was so incredibly relaxing and comfortable that Mira had almost fallen asleep. She completely failed to notice that the father and son had returned so quickly.

Great. Now she had been caught red-handed acting like a spoiled toddler.

Frigga, however, acted entirely as if she hadn't noticed the two frozen men. She calmly finished tying off the last braid in Mira's hair, patted her head gently, and spoke with a warm, maternal smile. Her voice was soft enough to melt a glacier.

"There we are. All done. Our little guest is truly beautiful."

Only then did the Queen slowly lift her gaze to look at Odin and Thor standing at the entrance.

The extreme tenderness in her eyes receded slightly, but she remained completely, unflappably calm. It was as if the apocalyptic battle on the Bifrost that had nearly destroyed Asgard was, in her eyes, nothing more than a trivial family squabble.

Odin looked at his wife and let out a long, profound, helpless sigh. Leaning heavily on Gungnir, the All-Father walked slowly toward them.

Thor finally snapped out of his total paralysis and hurried to follow his father. However, the look he shot Mira was still overflowing with unbelievable bewilderment, profound confusion, and a massive dose of inexplicable awkwardness.

He genuinely, honestly could not figure out how, in the span of an hour and a half, Mira Vale had managed to become the favorite child of the Queen of Asgard.

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