The shimmering portal spat Thor out onto a plane of existence that defied description. It wasn't darkness, nor light, but a chaotic blend of both, a swirling vortex of colors unseen by mortal eyes. This was the Omniverse, a canvas upon which countless realities were painted, and at its heart, throbbed the malevolent presence of the being responsible for Odin's death – a true boundless entity, a god beyond comprehension.
This wasn't the Thor of Asgardian legends, the boisterous, beer-loving warrior. This was Thor, stripped bare of his usual bravado, fueled by a grief so profound it warped the very fabric of his being. The hammer, Mjolnir, pulsed with a light that mirrored the storm raging within him; a light that spoke of unbound, godlike power. He had transcended limitations, his fury eclipsing even the vastness of the Omniverse itself.
The being, a swirling mass of dark energy that vaguely resembled a humanoid form, materialized before him. Its voice, a cacophony of whispers and screams, echoed across the infinite expanse. "You cannot do this! I am a protector of this Omniverse!"
Thor's lips curled into a grim smile, a chilling contrast to the raw power emanating from him. "Protector? You call yourself a protector? You orchestrated Loki's deception, the catalyst for my father's death! You toyed with my family, while hiding behind the flimsy veil of 'omniversal balance'!" His voice vibrated with a power that shook the very foundations of this chaotic realm. "I know. I cannot kill you. Yes, but I can beat you, smash you into an unrecognizable pulp."
The being's form rippled, a sign of its internal struggle. It knew this Thor was different. This Thor wasn't bound by the rules of engagement, by the moral code that even the most powerful beings usually adhered to. This was vengeance incarnate.
"And I will make sure that I shall visit you once in a while," Thor growled, his eyes blazing with an infernal light. With a roar that split the fabric of reality itself, he launched his assault. Mjolnir, a blur of incandescent energy, crashed into the being, sending shockwaves through the Omniverse.
The fight wasn't a battle of technique, of strategy, or even of comparable power. It was a pure, unadulterated expression of rage. Thor fought with the fury of a billion dying stars, each strike imbued with the weight of his unbearable loss. He didn't just fight; he destroyed. He tore through the being's defenses, shattering its ethereal form again and again. The Omniverse itself recoiled from the sheer force of their conflict. Galaxies blinked out of existence, only to reform moments later, scarred by the impact of their struggle.
Time became meaningless. Eons passed in the blink of an eye, each moment a testament to Thor's unrelenting assault. The Authority being, for all its vast power, could only endure. It screamed, not in pain, but in sheer, existential terror. It had faced countless threats, manipulated countless realities, but it had never encountered such unrelenting, unyielding wrath.
Thor's blows became more brutal, more precise, each one a deliberate act of dismantling. He tore apart the being's essence, scattering its power across the infinite canvas of the Omniverse. He shattered its defenses, not just physically, but emotionally, spiritually. He battered the being's very sense of self, reducing its once formidable essence to a fractured, terrified spark.
The being attempted to retaliate, lashing out with blasts of chaotic energy, but they were mere pinpricks against Thor's relentless onslaught. The God of Thunder moved with a speed that defied comprehension, his every movement a blur of lightning and fury. He pummeled the entity, grinding it down to nothing more than a whimpering, broken echo of its former self.
After what felt like an eternity, a silence descended upon the Omniverse. The chaotic energy had subsided, leaving behind a stillness so profound it was almost deafening. Thor stood amidst the wreckage, Mjolnir dripping with the residue of the being's shattered essence. He was exhausted, his body ravaged, but his eyes held a cold satisfaction. He hadn't killed the being, not exactly. He had broken it, shattered its will, reduced it to a state of utter impotence.
He knew this wouldn't be the end. The being would likely reform eventually, its authority nature ensuring its eventual return. But for now, for this moment, Thor had exacted his revenge. He had silenced the entity's malevolent whispers, leaving it a broken husk, a testament to the unstoppable force of a father's grief. He had shown the Omniverse, and the broken entity, what happens when a Apex Authority truly loses his temper. And he knew, with chilling certainty, that he would be back. He would return, again and again, for as long as it took to ensure that no other father would suffer the same fate. The Omniverse trembled at the thought.