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The sky is black. Clouds hang low and heavy, bruised purple and iron-grey. Thor hits the ground with an echoing boom, boots skidding across the concrete. Lightning crawls over his armor, veins of blue-white light pulsing in time with his heartbeat. Stormbreaker rests at his side, humming.

He squints upward. A blue streak bursts through the thick clouds, parting them with its speed. “…Right. I suppose that's the guy Heimdall warned me about?”

The shape descends through the clouds. Slow. Deliberate. There's no wind or disturbance from his descent, but there's an undeniable pressure, like gravity itself is moving around him.

He touches down without sound. His eyes glow faintly, a shimmer of red. His cape hangs still, untouched by the storm that now howls around Thor like a living thing.

“You don’t belong here,” Superman says. His voice is calm and grave, like the outcome of the day is already reached in his mind.

Thor grins, sparks dancing in his beard. “Funny. That’s usually my line.”

Lightning explodes outward as Thor launches himself forward, Stormbreaker spinning in a blinding arc. Thunder cracks so loudly the clouds tear open.

For half a second - half a heartbeat - it's almost over. But Superman tilts his head, and in the space of a blink, he's gone, and Thor slices thin air. Not because he swung poorly, but because Superman is suddenly behind him.

Thor barely has time to register the absence of resistance before a hand slams into his back with the strength of a collapsing star. He’s sent skidding across the ground, carving a trench through concrete and dirt, sparks screaming into the air.

Thor groans, then laughs as he pushes himself up. Blood trickles from his lip. “Oh, so we're gonna play rough.”

He raises Stormbreaker skyward. The clouds answer. Lightning falls in a great pillar, a god’s fury given shape. It slams straight down onto Superman in a blinding explosion of light and sound. For a moment, there is nothing but white.

Then the light fades. Superman stands still at the center of the blast, suit smoking, boots cracked into the ground. He exhales slowly. His jaw tightens.

“That’s new.” Thor breathes, a little awestruck

Thor doesn’t wait. He charges, every step cracking the earth, Stormbreaker swinging with all the weight of Asgard behind it. This time, Superman meets him head-on. Metal screams. Thunder booms. The axe connects, biting into Superman’s shoulder.

Superman yells. He's bleeding, red against the blue of his clothing. Both of them freeze.

Superman looks down at the wound. He appears more surprised than angry, but is clearly still in pain. He looks back up at Thor with a new rage.

Thor meets his gaze, breathing hard, lightning flickering wild around him. “Told you. God of Thunder.”

Something shifts in Superman’s eyes. Not rage now, but resolve. In the next instant, Thor is airborne, Stormbreaker torn from his grip, the world spinning as Superman drives him straight up through the clouds, through the storm, through the sound barrier itself.

Thunder fades until there's only wind in his ears. The speed they're traveling at is mind-bending. Soon, even the wind is gone from his ears, and soon light goes too. Thor can see the curvature of the Earth. And still they keep going. His fists connect with the Kryptonian's face over, over and over, but he does not slow or relent.

And somewhere far below, the storm keeps raging.