In the MCU with the Omnitrix/Ultimatrix

Thor's Pov:

The young shapeshifter discusses terms with Fury, his confidence belying his age. My fingers tighten around Mjolnir's handle, not from tension but from memory.

The weight of what his crimson form showed me still presses against my thoughts, especially in quiet moments like these.

I remember it with perfect clarity.

Father, the mighty Odin, falling into a sleep from which he would never wake. I saw his face, peaceful in death but bearing the weight of failures I hadn't yet understood. The golden halls of Asgard seemed dimmer without his presence.

Mother... her grace turned to stillness, her wisdom silenced by shadows I couldn't prevent. In that vision, I felt the helplessness, the rage, the grief - emotions so real they still wake me some nights.

And Loki... my brother's path leading to madness and pain, his heart twisted by lies and betrayal. Our brotherhood shattered like glass, each shard cutting deeper than any blade.

Asgard itself burned in those visions. Our eternal realm reduced to ash and ruin, our people scattered across the cold vastness of space.

The grand pillars of the palace crumbling, the Bifrost shattered, everything we built over millennia lost to chaos.

Yet the cause remained hidden from me. Like trying to grasp smoke, the source of this devastation slipped through my fingers.

But the certainty... the bone-deep knowledge that this was our path without change... that remained.

Now I watch the boy - this young warrior who changed everything without knowing it. His white hair catches the light as he speaks, reminding me of how it blazed with a light brighter than the stars that day. 

He glances my way occasionally, those red eyes carrying wisdom that makes my heart ache. He doesn't know what his power showed me.

How could he? The visions flowed through him like starfire, touching minds, reshaping destinies.

My brother stands beside me now, whole and present. The future I saw thankfully grows more distant with each passing day.

Sometimes I catch Loki watching the boy too, though his reasons remain his own. Perhaps he also senses how this young one's very existence defies the paths we once thought fixed.

The others speak of alliances and teams, of mortal concerns that seem small against the weight of what I witnessed.

Yet I know better now. Every choice, every small change ripples outward. The boy taught me that, though he doesn't know it.

In my thoughts, I've named that crimson power Aetherion - a force that touched every being sensitive to power across the realms. A glimpse of what could be, what must be prevented.

Ragnarök. The twilight of the gods. Our doom, written in prophecy and fate. Yet here stands this warrior-child, defying destiny itself with each breath.

When I look at him now, discussing terms with Fury, I see more than just a young hero. I see hope for Asgard's future, burning bright against the darkness that once seemed inevitable.

"Your terms are... interesting," Fury's hologram states, bringing me once more to focus, his eye narrowing slightly. "But Agent Romanoff alone would be more than sufficient-"

"And the archer," Samael interrupts, and I notice the slight shift in his posture - the same stance he takes before a calculated strike. "The one who was there during Thor's arrival. Both of them, or no deal."

The surprise that flashes across Fury's face speaks volumes. Even the agent, Romanoff, shows a hint of interest. "You were there."

"I was," the boy confirms, a small smirk playing across his features. "Nice vantage points he chose, by the way. Very professional."

"Two of my best agents," Fury's voice carries careful consideration. "That's quite a demand."

Samael shrugs with that particular casualness that reminds me of Loki at his most dangerous. "Those are my terms. You need to decide what's more important - having a real connection with the Ultimates, or keeping your pieces spread across the board."

The silence stretches, heavy with implications. Even from where I stand, I can sense the weight of this moment - another thread of fate being rewoven by this young warrior's choices.

"I'll need time to consider-" Fury begins.

"Take all the time you need," Samael cuts in smoothly. "We'll be here. Building something new. With or without SHIELD's involvement."

I cannot help but smile. The boy grows stronger in ways that have nothing to do with his transformations.

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The negotiations with Fury conclude for the day, the others dispersing to their various tasks - Stark to his lab to analyze the data from our earlier training, Emma accompanying Natasha on a tour of the facilities (though I suspect more to observe than welcome), and Loki departing to "consider implications," as he put it.

I find the young one on the tower's highest balcony, where he often retreats after particularly weighty discussions.

The height seems to calm him - perhaps a side effect of having so many flying forms at his disposal. He stands at the edge, looking out over the city as evening approaches.

"Your negotiations grow more skilled," I begin, moving to stand beside him. "You handle power plays with increasing grace."

He shrugs, though I notice the slight pride in his posture. "Comes with the territory, I guess. Living with Fisk, dealing with all this..." he gestures vaguely at the city below.

"You saved us all that day," I say after a moment of comfortable silence, watching his expression shift with surprise at the sudden change in topic. "When your crimson power manifested."

"From the Destroyer?" he asks, confusion evident. "I mean, yeah, but-"

"From far more than that," I interrupt, choosing my words with care. "What I saw that day... the path that awaited us all..."

I pause, noting how he watches me now with increased interest.

"Death," I continue, my voice low. "Destruction. The fall of Asgard itself. My family... all of it shown with terrible clarity. A future that seemed fixed, unavoidable."

"Thor..."

"But your very existence," I press on, needing him to understand at least this much, "it changes everything."

I see doubt flash across his features, though he tries to hide it. The weight of responsibility he carries - perhaps too much for one so young, yet he bears it with grace.

"I am grateful," I state simply, letting the truth of it fill my words, "that you were born into this world."

He doesn't respond immediately, and in his silence, I see the burden he carries. The fear, perhaps, that his presence here might somehow make things worse rather than better. But he needs to know this truth, even if I cannot share all that I witnessed.

I place a hand on his shoulder, feeling how young he truly is beneath all that power and responsibility as I continue. "The path I saw... there was no hope in it. No chance for change or growth. But you..." I pause, choosing my words carefully, "you bring possibility. The chance to forge new paths, better ones."

He doesn't pull away from the gesture, but I notice the subtle tension in his frame. The weight of my words seems to press down on him more than I intended.

"You have a lot of faith in someone who barely understands his own powers," he says finally, his voice carrying that particular blend of youth and ancient knowledge that makes him unique. "How can you be so sure I'm not just... disrupting something that needed to happen?"

"Faith?" I cannot help but smile at his doubt. "Young one, what I saw that day wasn't just visions. It was certainty - the kind that burns itself into your very soul. A path of destruction so complete that..." I pause, memories of flame and ruin flickering through my mind.

"But that's exactly my point," he argues, running a hand through his white hair in frustration. "What if that path, terrible as it was, served some greater purpose? What if by changing it, I'm just..." he trails off, searching for words.

"Making it worse?" I finish for him. "Creating an even darker future?"

He nods.

"The future I saw," I say carefully, "wasn't just dark. It was... empty. An end without purpose, without hope for what comes after." I turn to face him fully. "But you? You bring change, yes, but also choice. The power choose what we accept."

He absorbs this in silence, his red eyes reflecting the last rays of sunset. I see him wrestling with the implications, with the responsibility my words place upon him.

"You know what the strangest part is?" he finally speaks, "Everyone keeps putting their faith in me - you, Emma, even Fisk in his own way. And here I am, sometimes not even sure if I should exist in this world at all."

The admission hangs in the evening air, heavy with implications. I remember my own doubts, centuries ago, when the weight of Asgard's future first pressed upon my shoulders.

"Existence isn't about should or shouldn't," I reply, watching the last rays of sun paint the sky in crimson, "It's about what we do with the path before us.

And you, young one... No matter how many times I reiterate it, it may never be enough, that you- you forge new paths where others see only walls."

He absorbs this in silence, but I notice his shoulders straighten slightly, some of the doubt easing from his posture. 

"Thank you," he says finally, simple words carrying complex meaning. "For telling me this. Even if I'm not sure I believe it all yet."

I smile, recognizing in him the same warrior's spirit that drives all great heroes - the perfect blend of power and doubt, of strength and questioning. Perhaps that's why the fates themselves seem to bend around him.

As we stand there, watching night claim the sky, I silently renew my oath to stand beside this young warrior. Not just for Asgard's sake, but for all our futures.

The crimson star of guidance burns bright indeed.

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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoyed Thor's perspective this chapter.

Do tell me how you found it. 

Did you like it? Did it feel natural or too OOC?

Writing Thor more emotional can be a bit tricky, so I'm a bit unsure.

So yeah, do please comment how you found it and I hope to see you all later,

Bye!)