Dr. Donald Blake eyed the rough book’s cover thoughtfully. “You know Asgardian...” he said, amused as he saw Souls of Thunder in Asgardian rune-script.

“I make a habit of learning new languages whenever I can. I can’t replicate Divine Allspeech, and universal translators are a thing, but it’s funny how actually knowing a language changes how you understand those that use it.”

“Summary?” he asked me, not opening it.

“The key thing here is the conflict between mortal and divine agendas.” I chewed a piece of wagyu slowly, lining up my thoughts. “The goal of enlightened mortals is to evolve past needing gods to protect them, and instead being able to stand alongside them in one manner or another, if not equals individually, then as a race and people.

“Sama and Briggs have been making great strides in that direction, in areas from super-powers, to psionics, to higher technology. As individuals, they are already at that level, as arguably are some of the most powerful mortals alive, such as Primus.

“This conflicts with the divine agenda, which is to collect faith to empower and strengthen themselves. This is typically done by protecting their worshippers, guiding them, directing them in ever-greater acts of faith... but not raising them up. Indeed, it could be said the divine are one of the bigger opponents of actual advancement of mortal power in the world. Faith doesn’t require mortal power, and usually suffers for it, actually.”

He said nothing for a couple long minutes, pressing through the majority of his plate as he considered that. “Having a mortal viewpoint of just how far mortals have managed to come in the last two centuries, as opposed to the millennia before then, and looking at the relative influence of the divine during those places and time periods, I cannot say you are wrong. It is not wrong to say that the least advanced mortal societies are those that cling most tightly to their gods and spirits before all else.”

He was a doctor, and so would have a modern view of medicine, even if the physicians of Asgard were literal miracle workers. He would have respect for the old ways, if they worked, but if humanity wanted to develop panaceas, it wasn’t going to be by just using roots, mortars, and pestles like their grandfathers had.

“The Analects of Strength are designed so that the benefit of the faithful is to one another. Hercules helps them share their strength with one another. If need be, he can ask for strength from them, or he can gift it to a worshipper out of his own strength, but the purpose of the Church is to further your own strength, physical fitness, teamwork, camaraderie, and have a generous attitude towards using your strength for others.

“It is not about Hercules having any kind of mortal political agenda for a specific people. If Greeks want to cry out for him to reclaim Crete for the homeland and beat up all those nasty Turks, that’s not his job, and he’s very plain about it.

“Thor should seek something similarly high-minded. Happily, he’s a god of the weather, so an ecological standpoint works best for him.”

“Thor, the great Greenpeace activist?” Dr. Blake sounded amused.

“Thor is about achieving great things in the face of adversity. Overcoming convenience with willpower to do what is right for the world is certainly within his remit. There are some VERY powerful factions and forces out there who would be opposed to any kind of successful ecological movement... it would cost them money!

“Finding a way to help save his mother’s biosphere and rewarding those who work to that end is an excellent standpoint for a god. Ignoring those who can’t put their heart where their lips are is also perfectly within his right.

“Stay away from territory. Stay away from bloodlines and ancestry. Stay away from governance, and stay away from superiority of morals and theological conflicts. Adopt a position, center a Church around it, and let them know that Thor and his Hammer live to defend mankind against things they cannot fight on their own... and his Church exists to help mankind do the things THEY are capable of.”

His blue eyes twinkled, almost despite himself. “That sounds very pretentious, you know.”

“Thunder in the soul sounds almost stultifyingly pretentious to those without it, I agree. Imagine if Thor was absent courage, hope, and faith in a better way. He would probably sound like his arsehat of an adopted brother.”

Dr. Blake grinned at the example. “I can see that you are serious about this. I will read all of this, and Thor will certainly bend his thoughts to them, although he tends to be more about the immediate action than long-term implications of such things.”

“If he chooses to set an alternate course, merely let me know, and I will help where I can. It will certainly not offend me if he chooses a different way.”

Dr. Blake, mortal incarnation of the god Thor, nodded, and we waited as our plates were whisked away, and the steaming-hot apple pies ala mode were set before us. “I am not sure how to regard a mortal aiming to help a god with such things, but it is a new age, and we can go where only gods once dared to, so why not?”

I laughed with him as we finished our meal together. “Also, I’ve an idea for funding the Church that doesn’t involve messing with the Asgardian treasury or his own personal wealth.”

“Oh?”

“What’s his attitude towards calling down some lightning to make some Weird Lightning Elements?”

“Interesting...” He tapped his spoon thoughtfully.

“Also, he’s got a descendant who’s a weather goddess in Africa. She could probably use some guidance from him.” His eyes almost popped at that news...

================

Time passes, and it’s a dark and sorcerous night...

Dealer zipped up on the trio standing on top of the Museum of Natural History, somewhat bemused as she surveyed them.

However, her gaze stopped on the skeletal guy in the black robe, and four cards wreathed in silver flicked up as he was gazing in stupefaction at the city beyond.

Also, six lightning bolts in a row came hammering down on the pillars that had replaced the World Trade Center, impacting the locus of some enchantment there, shattering the illusion and rapidly restoring the huge skyscrapers, and the other buildings around them, to full view and splendor.

“I don’t know who or what you are, but you can go away.” The spellcaster turned on her, shocked to see her flying so easily. His hands came up, just in time for one Card each to drive into his palms, his navel, and his forehead.

He convulsed as silver light flared over him, ripping apart the magic he’d used to take Possession of the security guard there. The portly fellow materialized as the spirit of the mage was driven out of him and back into the Amulet that fell from the man’s neck.

As it did, the area around them began to waver and recover as well. The camp of barbarians below the crude ‘temple’ that had replaced the museum washed away like a bad dream, and was replaced by a curious crowd of pointing gawkers that had no idea what had just happened.

“You’re so dead.” Six Hearts zipped out, gathered around the Amulet, and ignited on vivic fire. The wails that came from it as it burned there in midair were serenely ignored as she turned to the other pair.

The red-haired woman in that’s-not-armor wielding a sword was watching her, a little wide-eyed at seeing her flying so easily, while Spider-Man, looking quite beat and bashed up by somethings with claws and teeth, fell back against the wall and balustrade to support himself.

“Oh, what a night!” he muttered. “Hey, thanks, Dealer. Why are you here?”

“Whatever went down out of this museum tonight was jumped on by a couple renegade Dragon Mages. Half of New York City was turned into a pre-Dark Ages kingdom the Roman Empire would be comfortable in.” She turned to the redhead. “Good evening! Spidey still has an eye for the ladies, I see, although by the look of things you got him out of trouble instead.” She bowed formally. “I am the Dealer, card-shuffler and occasional sorceress.”

The redhead was staring at the city now even more fully revealed as the illusions were undone. “,” she finally spoke up, halfway between pride and awe. “”

“Good Gaia, is that Hyrkanian?” Dealer’s lips twisted.

The redhead blinked. “” she asked, startled. She naturally could understand Human, but didn’t know it in return.

“Well, I could use magic to, regardless, sure, but I’ve only ever seen the written form of Hyrkanian. It’s been a dead language for, like, ten thousand years, or something.”

“You know a language that is ten thousand years old?” Spider-man asked her in disbelief.

“Does it surprise you how old some of the stuff Doc Strange has in his library is?” Dealer sniffed. “Well, Sonja, you’re definitely out of your time period. Any way to send you home?” She glanced at the Sword in the woman’s hands. “I think that Blade has something to do with you being here. That’s a really old Sword...”

Sonja looked at the Sword in her hand. “”

Dealer extended out a Three of Clubs to touch the Sword, and there was a flicker of motion from below as the scabbard to the weapon came tumbling up through the hole in the roof to her hand. She offered it to the redhead formally. “Then we thank you for your aid and your service, and know that the future is in good hands.”

Red Sonja smiled at the formality. “,” she half-laughed, only pausing a moment to give Spider-Man a side-eye. “”

Dealer smirked. “He does grow on you. Don’t worry about him; he’ll be fine in the morning and telling everyone about the swordswoman he was running around with.”

Red Sonja laughed a final time, and slid the Sword back into its scabbard.

Dealer caught the young woman suddenly standing there in her place, while Spidey blurted out, “Mary Jane!” and also jumped in to assist.

Dealer lifted away the Sword, eying the young woman in Spidey’s arms speculatively.

Called from her reward? A legend of the Hyborian Age, dead that long? Uh, no, that wasn’t going to happen, especially with the magic in this Sword.

Her soul would have already had to have been here, and the Sword just hooked into the magic to bring her back.

Mary Jane Watson is the reincarnation of Red Sonja, the legendary swordswoman of the Hyborian Age?

Well, why can’t I do something with that?, Dealer thought, as Spidey headed off, carrying his literal next-door neighbor growing up with him. Felicia’s having too much fun, let’s get Pete’s head turned in another direction...

------------

A day or two later...

Mary Jane looked up in astonishment as the woman sat down across from her at the cafeteria table, dropping a scabbarded sword down precisely between them. The ivory face mask and croupier’s uniform was unmistakable... but nobody around seemed to notice her.

“Dealer?” she blurted out despite herself, her lunch forgotten for the moment.

“Miss Watson,” came the smiling reply. “I have an opportunity for you.”

MJ blinked in shock. “An... opportunity for me?” she repeated, pointing at herself. “I’m... I’m a theater major...”

“You are aware some crazy stuff went on a couple nights ago, right?” Dealer went on, dismissing her words. “And you were in the middle of it.”

“I was?” she blinked. “I... don’t remember anything...”

“Most of the people don’t. But you were unique. You actually reached out, grabbed this Sword, and tapped into the power of a previous incarnation, establishing a link with the woman whose soul is now yours from nigh on ten thousand years ago, a legend of her time.” Dealer’s eyes were dancing. “How would you like to link up with her again?”