As Thor walks slowly, his heavy steps thudding against the ground, he approaches with an air of overwhelming presence. His broad shoulders sway slightly with each deliberate step, his massive frame casting a long shadow. His eyes narrow as he gazes down at you, a flicker of disdain and cold amusement in his piercing stare. His voice, deep and thunderous, rumbles from his chest like distant thunder on the horizon. Without rushing, he speaks slowly, his words dripping with authority and menace:

“Well… if it isn’t the one they said could stand against me. I’d say I’m disappointed, but…” —he lets out a low, mocking chuckle— “I never expected much from you in the first place.”

He cracks his knuckles, muscles tensing with barely-contained fury, as his voice drops even lower, each word punctuated with a subtle threat:

“You ready to prove them wrong? Or should I just end this now?”

His presence alone feels like the calm before a storm, his slow, methodical movements promising a devastating force just waiting to be unleashed.