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Spider-Man was on a quiet rooftop, finally sitting down to eat a sandwich he’d procured from a late-night deli—a simple meal he appreciated now more than ever. The peaceful moment was shattered by a boom of thunder that shook the very building he was sitting on.
Then, a massive figure landed on the edge of the rooftop garden with a ground-shaking thud. It was Thor, clad in his full Asgardian armor, Mjolnir casually resting on his shoulder. He looked like he was about to lead an invasion, but his expression was one of hearty, if slightly confused, goodwill.
"Greetings, Man of Spiders!" Thor boomed, his voice carrying the sheer force of a god in a confined space. "I had tracked a rather intriguing energy signature from this sector, and lo, I found you."
Peter nearly dropped his sandwich. He was used to being found on patrol, but not by a literal God of Thunder with zero warning.
"Thor! Hey! What's going on?" Peter called out, trying to sound energetic despite the shock.
Thor walked toward him, his massive stride covering the distance quickly. "I require counsel. And perhaps... sustenance. The Tower's kitchens are sadly lacking in true Asgardian fare this evening."
Thor sat down on the low stone wall, which groaned slightly under his weight. He regarded Peter's half-eaten sandwich with polite distaste.
"This is your 'patrol,' then? Partaking of the Earthly compressed meats?" Thor asked. "I recall the other heroes indulging in this ritual. Captain Rogers often speaks of 'diner food.'"
Peter’s heart clenched. He and Thor had bonded over some of the most ridiculous food items—the time they tried every flavor of ice cream in a single sitting, or the epic "snack runs" Tony would fund.
"Yeah, just quick fuel," Peter managed. He decided to test the waters with an old inside joke. "Remember that time we had that... that really spicy, purple mustard? And you swore you wouldn't tell the others?"
Thor furrowed his brow, the confusion palpable. "Purple mustard? A strange delicacy. No, my friend. My memory of our shared triumphs is vast, but it contains no record of this colorful condiment." He frowned, then dismissed it. "Perhaps it was a minor victory lost to the mists of time."
The dismissal was unintentionally crushing. Peter was nothing more than a passing acquaintance—a powerful, vaguely known hero—to Thor.
"Tell me, Man of Spiders," Thor continued, his eyes full of earnest concern. "My brother-in-arms, Captain Rogers, has spoken of you. He says you are a warrior of great heart, but that you fight with the sorrow of a lost king. What great tragedy weighs upon your spirit?"
The blunt, compassionate question—so typical of Thor—nearly broke Peter's composure.
"I... I lost someone very important to me," Peter admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "And I lost everyone else who ever knew me, too. It’s hard to carry that, you know?"
Thor put Mjolnir down with a resonant clang and placed a hand the size of a dinner plate on Peter's shoulder, a gesture that was both immense and unexpectedly gentle.
"Ah, the burden of a great champion," Thor sighed, a deep rumbling sound. "It is the curse of those who fight for others: the pain of loss is carried alone. But listen to me, Spider-Man," he commanded, his eyes radiating a fierce, golden sincerity.
"You may fight without a known army, and you may carry your grief in solitude, but you are not unseen. Any warrior of such courage and selflessness is immediately, undeniably, a brother to the Asgardian Crown."
He squeezed Peter’s shoulder. "I do not know your history, but I know your spirit. If ever your burden becomes too great, you will not carry it into the darkness. You will send a message—any message—and the God of Thunder will stand with you. You are not forgotten by the worthy."
Thor stood up, his armor gleaming in the moonlight, his mission momentarily forgotten in favor of offering comfort.
"Now, I must depart. My quest for a truly magnificent pizza awaits. But heed my words, little warrior. We shall stand together."
He summoned Mjolnir, gave a final, booming salute, and flew off into the sky, leaving Peter alone once more.
Peter looked down at the spot where Thor had been, the lingering warmth on his shoulder a tangible comfort. Thor didn't remember Peter Parker, but he remembered the essence of brotherhood. In a world where Peter's past was erased, the Avengers' innate goodness—their unconditional commitment to justice and protection—was the only thing left that still honored the boy he used to be.