The New York sky was blanketed in heavy gray clouds when Thor stepped out of the car, his stride firm and resolute. The sharp morning wind tugged at the hem of his dark overcoat as he crossed the stone courtyard of an imposing building.

The echo of his shoes filled the marble corridors — steady, deliberate — as if each step carried the weight of an inevitable decision. He walked with unshakable determination, ignoring the curious glances that followed him. His eyes, cold as steel, were locked on a single direction, and nothing could pull him away from his purpose. Beneath the surface, a storm churned — a surge of emotions kept tightly under control.

The place was elegant, its walls lined with portraits of great writers, the air tinged with an academic solemnity. Yet the entire building felt small compared to the intensity Thor carried within him.

When he reached a heavy wooden door, he knocked once — sharp, final — then turned the handle and entered without waiting for permission. His