Journey of a Hammer

Mjolnir sorrowfully flew from Thor's hand, off to find its new wielder.

It had been through many great adventures with the Odinson, but that time had now definitely come to an end. The legendary heroes of the Marvelverse had fallen, and their age had come to a close.

Mjolnir grieved for them, and for its wielder in particular. Thor had been an amazing protector of not only the Nine Realms, but also many other worlds and even entire dimensions, often crossing over to defeat interdimensional threats that could not be handled by the inhabitants of said dimensions themselves.

His life had been a fruitful one, and Mjolnir couldn't wait to see what its next wielder would achieve. Undoubtedly, they would be every bit as great as the Odinson, and would protect and save many people.

They'd have to be found quickly though. Thor wanted to see his successor before his death, and since he was hanging on by a mere threat, Mjolnir needed to make haste.

So it flew through Space and Time with unfathomable speed, going so fast it was invisible to all but the most divine of eyes.

Mjolnir was a rather unique weapon. If one were to look at it, they would see a block of metallic material, about as large as a football, in a simple prismatic form. The handle was strangely short, many would say too short for it to be effective on the battlefield, and a leather strap, approximately the length of the handle itself, hung from the end of the grip.

It seemed nothing more than an oversized tool, a weird hammer meant for building and crafting, but nothing could be less true.

Mjolnir was a legendary divine weapon. It was made from the mass of a dying star by the First Dwarves, gods in their own right, and had been enhanced further by Odin and even the One-Above-All.

This made Mjolnir a weapon with few equals and fewer superiors. Sure, weapons like the Ultimate Nullifier, the Infinity Sword, and the Infinity Gauntlet were undoubtedly more powerful than it was, but those weapons were also unwieldy and corrupting, often being the cause of their owners' almost immediate deaths.

Mjolnir did not corrupt and could be handled with the greatest of ease, making it the best weapon all around still.

Especially as it now carried Thor's power. Now it just needed to be picked up by a worthy candidate, and it would bestow upon them the might of the God of Thunder.

As the hammer flew past countless worlds and universes, it beheld several potential candidates for that might.

The first was a girl trapped inside a locker, with a power of will that was truly staggering, even to an ancient divine weapon. She had endured years of torment without breaking and would endure so much more if Mjolnir would let history run its course. Fated to merely rule insects, her life, though ultimately successful, would be a short and unhappy one.

The second was a pervert with a heart of gold. Possessing a 'Sacred Gear' that was somewhat powerful, but not all that impressive ultimately in the grand scheme of things, he too would struggle in his Journey. The odds he had to overcome with a power that he barely understood would make him ineffective as a hero despite his very best attempts, and Mjolnir could have done much good with him had there not been someone worthier.

It would have had to reduce his pervertedness by a large degree though, perhaps with a nice smack in the head.

Actually, there was no reason why Mjolnir could not still smack him, even if it would not choose him.

Moving on. An orange haired protector was the third to be spotted, destined to fight in a Spiritual World that seemed to be based on Feudal Japan. This boy was a hybrid with enormous potential, perhaps the most out of all of Mjolnir's candidates. He would be too slow in accessing it though, making him have to suffer through much pain and loss, of which losing his mother would only be the beginning.

On another world, another dimension, a pink-haired girl was suffering under the burden of having no magic, in a society where magic was everything. Starting out with a kind and strong soul, she could have wielded Mjolnir, if it had chosen her. It was so very sad though that she would nearly be broken by family, school, and country, to the point where violence would be her only answer to everything.

One of the few choices left was a powerless boy, hoping to join the academy of heroes. He would have succeeded even without outside assistance, becoming more than he could have ever dreamed of, but Mjolnir would certainly help a great deal in the process should the hammer join this boy on his path.

Next up was a cast-out prince, determined to fight and defeat his former country. He would receive a power from his own planet, but that would not be enough. His masterplan was doomed to fail. His plan for peace, though seemingly quite brilliant, was faulty and based on the arrogant belief that mankind would never forget him. They would however, in a sparse few years at most.

The last option that the Hammer flew by was a white-haired, red-eyed boy, trying to make a life in a city that existed around a Dungeon. Pure, with naught but the best of intentions, the boy had all the makings of a hero, provided he could control his feelings a bit more.

These people and more Mjolnir passed on his way. Each of them worthy in their own way and each of them having the potential to be his wielder had the circumstances been a bit different.

They all paled in comparison though to the beacon of worthiness shining at Mjolnir's destination. This person was the worthiest of them all, the most incorruptible, and as such would receive the honour of wielding the Hammer of Thor.

The people mentioned would find their way in life without Mjolnir, one way or another. They were the protagonists of their own stories, heroes or at least anti-heroes in the making.

But theirs were different stories, and Mjolnir put them out of its mind when it arrived at the right universe at last. Thor was dying very quickly, and it had no time to waste.

It made for the only inhabited planet around, which of course was a version of Earth, flying past the station of Nasu the Watcher, who peered at it with wise and understanding eyes.

Mjolnir entered the planet's atmosphere, skilfully dodging debris and fooling satellites and other measuring equipment into not perceiving anything weird.

The hammer came closer and closer to the surface, shaking in anticipation, and it was only a few kilometres from the ground when it realised that coming down at full speed would be incredibly foolish.

No sense in creating an Earthquake or something like that.

As luck would have it, its new wielder was currently alone, walking through a small forest. An excellent opportunity for the hammer to introduce itself.

And so, Mjolnir descended, flying straight ahead, aiming for…

Fuyuki City.

Chapter two done. I am aware that this was a short chapter, but there wasn't much to tell really. This part told some more about Mjolnir (more information to come of course) and gave an introduction to other stories I am planning on making sometime, should I ever find the time.

For those of you wondering where Shirou himself is, he'll appear from the next chapter onwards. This story is about him, and about him only. I will add other POV's fairly frequently, or use the omniscient storyteller here and there, but the main character is Shirou, just so you all know.

Can you guess who the people were that Mjolnir referred to? There's no reward, but you will have impressed me if you know one or more. If you are surprised that I would consider some of them Mjolnir-worthy, in my stories, I'll go with the best possible interpretation of their character.

You should also be aware that both Thor and Mjolnir have more powers and abilities than the ones I have mentioned up to now. Those other powers will come forth when it is their time.

Here's an omake by the way. I would like to add that I do not hate this character, but my brother insisted on me making something like this:

Issei Hyoudou was, once again, attempting to perv on girls who were changing after a day of sporting. By a lucky coincidence, he had found a hole in the wall of the changing room that was big enough to look through, and he was making optimal use of the opportunity.

His friends were looking alongside him of course. They were as desperate as he was to get a glimpse of a girl's bare skin, or to sneak a peek at their sacred bits, and Issei, with his big heart, had generously informed them about the hole's existence.

The three of them were perverts, no ifs or buts about it, and they eagerly embraced that part of themselves.

So it was without shame that Issei looked through the hole, hoping he would be able to see a pair of real boobs today at last, trying to ignore the running commentary from his idiot mates.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much space at the hole they were trying to peep through, and in their inevitable struggle for more room to watch, they ended up falling on the ground, hard, making a lot of noise. Mere moments later, it went very quiet inside the changing room, quickly followed by angry voices.

Issei sat up immediately, knowing they'd have to flee.

"Guys, quick, we have to get away!" He proclaimed, foregoing the need for stealth, but upon turning around, he discovered his friends had already bailed, leaving him behind.

"There you are."

And to make matters worse, the girls had found him already, wearing nothing but towels and furious expressions.

Issei sweatdropped and chuckled nervously, backing away slowly. Maybe he could run for it?

It was not to be. The girls, armed with bokken, stones, and fists, were upon him in a mere second, viciously beating him into the ground.

"How often do we have to teach you a lesson for you to stop?!" One raged at him. "Do you really have nothing better to do?!"


"Stupid pervert!"

"Die already!"

Their piece said and their point made, the girls then left again, angrily muttering about stupid boys and ugly perverts.

Once they were gone, Issei sat up, bruised and battered, and tried to stand. It took a few tries though, wounded as he was, but with persistence, he managed to get to his feet.

"What a catastrophic failure." He groaned out loud to himself once he was stable, holding a hand against his black eye. "Damn those guys for abandoning me."

He wasn't actually mad though. He knew what his friends were like, and hadn't expected any different from them.

"Maybe I should just give up now." He huffed, still talking out loud. "Save myself the embarrassment and pain. That is what everyone else would do."

A beat of silence then passed, as Issei contemplated, before he squeezed his fists.

"But not me!" He roared, trying to talk some courage into himself. "I will continue trying, even after failing a thousand times! I have chosen this path and I will see it through until the end! Straying is for those without heart, without courage! I shall not be a coward, not now, not ever!"

Feeling his blood pump faster at his own words, Issei threw his hands up in the air.



The sudden, deafening sound echoed over the campus of the school as if a bomb had just exploded. The windows rattled, the walls trembled, and unoccupied chairs fell over.

Even the ground itself shook, as if a sudden earthquake had just occurred.

Being no strangers to earthquakes, the students and teachers promptly set out to follow the earthquake-protocols, evacuating the school with great efficiency. Within mere minutes, everyone was outside.

Except for Rias Gremory.

The red-haired demon was sitting very still, like a bunny caught in the gaze of a lion.

Just now, she had felt an enormous amount of power crashing down upon the school. Raw, wild power, power that exceeded even that of her elder brother. It had disappeared as fast as it had appeared though, leaving her with many questions.

In the meantime, Issei lifted his head, which frankly confused him. His memory was spotty, but he could have sworn he had been standing upright just now, not lying on the ground.

A-And had he always had this massive, throbbing headache?

He did not know what had happened. One moment, he had been reaffirming his ultimate goal, and the next he had woken up with the worst headache to ever headache.

Had he been hit by something?

Issei looked around, not really expecting to find anything, but then his jaw dropped in shock.

Because there lied a hammer. A beautiful hammer that shone in the light of the sun.

No doubt this was the thing that had hit him in the head.

However, just as he reached out for it, the hammer rose from the ground again, and shot away faster than he could follow.

"Oi, wait." Issei yelled, indignation filling his breast. "You can't just hit me in the head and then fly away! Stay here and explain yourself!"

But the hammer did not listen, and it soon disappeared into the sky. This had been a momentary interlude in its travels, to knock some sense into the fool, but now it had to go, to its new wielder.


And done. An omake about the hammer making a detour to knock some sense into Issei Hyoudou.

Have a nice day all of you.

Edited later for better flow and better choice of words.