A New Challenger Arises.
Godhood is not something a mortal could ever be ready for. Godhood, the very concept carries with it such implications of power and limitless might that it pulls to the darkest recesses of the very soul whispering to that animal side of the psyche all things possible. It is in that moment that a path is carved to be destroyer or protector. Today was a day that such choice was made. A choice that forever altered the world of a simple man.
The day started as all others did the harpy screaming of his cell phone. Pulling him mind from the Stygian abyss that was slumber into the painfully aware world of the wakeful. A groan as arm snaked from under covers, flailing around on the night table with all the ability of a newborn baby. Finally brain settled his shit enough for touch on demonic noise maker to be gripped and lifted to one opened eye. A quick touch and swipe of finger silenced the apoloclyptic siren as a long and heavy sight filled the air. "Time to rise and make the donuts...." Called a gruff male voice as you average every day joe rose from solitary slumber and readied for the job ahead of him.
Thirty minutes later he was dressed, showered, and shaved, making his way in a battered, twenty year old truck that ran these days on hopes and dreams it seemed. He was a roughneck by trade and the oil business had treated him well. Well enough to require his time nearly all day every day. It left little time for himself, but what little he did get would find him at local charities donating either time or money to see those in need given what he could. The radio was jamming to some local rock station as he sang and drummed along on his steering wheel. Suddenly there was a ear splitting roar as something fell streaking like the fist of a angry god from the heavens. The objects path lead it to earth, landing with a near explosion right before the truck hustling down the dirt road.
What happened next was all a blur, but when it was over the truck was nose first in a crater with its front end crumpled around something. A door squeaked in protest as he kicked it open muttering enough curses to make a sailor blush, dropping out of the ruined cab with a heavy thud of workboots to the earth. "What in the seven actual fucks was that? Awe man look at my truck. My boss is going to be pissed." Called out to express his irritation. Still whatever he hit had to be large, and as such might be worth a penny to some space junk collector. That in mind he moved over in front of the shattered vehicle to see what must be a tail, or handle of something. "What the hell is it." Mused the tall and stocky male as hand reached out to grasp the exposed end.
As contact of grip to item was made, a crack of lighting and roar of thunder not heard in centuries burst to life. The bolt of heavens fury slamming to earth right onto that exposed and gripped handle. It was then that memories and thoughts not the mans own, hell not mortal, assaulted his mind as head tilted back and he roared in pain. Visions of actions so debase and vile they would have destroyed a lesser man. Yet his flesh did not burn away and his bones turn to ash as explosion sounded, shockwave throwing both man and object back to wall of the impact crater. Blue eyes fluttering shut as the sheer magnitude of the moment sunk in. Mjolnir had chosen another, one of strength of mind and spirit. One untainted by unthinking and butchery. This was to be the reincarnation of Thor on this plane to wield the hammer as it should be. The blast of released and consumed power not only effecting the physical world, but that of the magical world would sense its reach as well.