Ordinarily, Thanos' sheer strength and aura of invincibility were enough to keep his subordinates in line. Regardless of how lazy or ineffective they might be, his presence alone ensured that any chaos or failure was swiftly brought under control.
But now, the unthinkable had happened—the boss himself had lost.
As Thanos staggered through the wreckage of Sanctuary II, clutching his severed arm, the soldiers around him exchanged uneasy glances. Even the Black Order, his most elite lieutenants, stood frozen, their expressions betraying a sense of shattered reverence. It was as though an unshakable idol had crumbled before their eyes.
For decades, Thanos had rampaged across the universe, amassing a fearsome reputation. While he had faced defeats in the past, none had ever left such a deep scar on his invincibility. When he clashed with Odin during his ill-fated invasion of Asgard, he had been soundly beaten. Yet, there had been no shame in that loss—after all, Odin, in his prime, was regarded as one of the universe's most formidable figures, a living legend who had stood at the very apex of power.
Escaping Odin with his life had been considered an achievement in itself.
But this? This was different.
Being bested by Odin was one thing. Being humiliated by Thor was another matter entirely. Worse, the damage Thor had inflicted was no mere tactical defeat. It was a blow to Thanos' image, his very mythos. News would spread, and no one would care whether it had been a sneak attack or a fair fight. All that would matter was the fact: Thanos had been maimed by a second-generation god.
Thor's reputation, despite his recent feats, was still mired in skepticism across the universe. Twenty years ago, he had been dismissed as an arrogant and reckless prince, a "second-generation god" with more bravado than substance. And while he had grown into a mighty warrior, for many, that old image lingered. To the universe's ancient civilizations, twenty years was but a blink of an eye. Few had truly grasped the extent of Thor's power.
Some of Thor's most notable accomplishments were either unknown or dismissed. The destruction of the Frost Giants? Achieved with Loki's cunning use of the Bifrost. The annihilation of the Dark Elves? Attributed to Odin's intervention. The Sakaarian gladiatorial matches? Merely a spectacle for the desperate. Even Ego's defeat had been chalked up to Star-Lord's family drama, and the galaxy paid it little attention.
Thor's victory over Ronan the Accuser had briefly drawn praise, but Ronan's subsequent humiliation on Earth had tarnished his reputation, leading many to label him a fraud.
Ironically, Thor's most convincing victories were against Thanos himself. With each clash, Thor's star had risen higher, while Thanos' aura of invincibility began to wane.
Thanos had made countless enemies over the years, but fear of his power had always kept them at bay. Now, with his defeat fresh in their minds and his army crippled, many would see this as an opportunity to strike. Opportunistic forces would surely move to exploit his vulnerability.
"You're losing your grip," came a low, ominous voice.
"I have not failed," Thanos retorted sharply, his tone laced with defiance.
The voice persisted, unyielding. "You agreed to cooperate with me, asking me to help trigger Ragnarök, and I upheld my end. Yet here we are. Ragnarök has been quelled by Asgard, the Soul Stone has slipped through your fingers, and you've been grievously injured in a sneak attack. If that's not failure, then what is?"
"As long as I live, I cannot lose," Thanos declared, his voice like steel. "They can win a thousand times, and I need only win once. Just one victory, and everything will fall into place."
A pause followed, the air thick with tension. Finally, the voice replied, its tone colder than ever. "But you won't win even once. You are not Thor's equal. The gap between you will only grow wider, and now he holds four Infinity Stones. The odds are stacked against you."
Thanos' frown deepened, but he remained silent as the voice continued.
"As for your forces... only three of the Black Order remain. Ebony Maw may still be useful, but the rest are shadows of their former selves. Even the Avengers could overcome them now, and they no longer tip the scales in your favor."
"What is it you want from me?" Thanos growled, his patience wearing thin. He knew the truth in these words, even if he loathed admitting it.
The voice chuckled darkly. "Your plan faltered not because of poor execution, but because of one man. The Ancient One, once foretold that the fate of the cosmos hinges upon him."
"Thor," the voice spat the name with disdain. "He is the obstacle to your destiny. Remove him, and there will be no one left to challenge you."
"And what do you propose?" Thanos asked warily, his eyes narrowing.
"My master can help you eliminate the Asgardian. In return, you must fulfill one request."
Thanos' gaze hardened. "What is it you want?"
"Destroy the Three Sanctums—New York, London, and Hong Kong. Break the seals of Kamar-Taj and allow my master to enter this world. In exchange, he will devour Asgard for you. But first, you and your army must annihilate Kamar-Taj!"
Thanos fell silent, contemplating the weight of this proposition. Destroying the Sanctums sounded straightforward enough, but Kamar-Taj had stood for millennia, its defenders legendary even without the Ancient One. A full-scale assault would not come without significant losses.
"Why does your master obsess over Kamar-Taj?" he asked cautiously.
"If my master descends, what is there to fear from a Kamar-Taj without the Ancient One?" the voice replied coolly.