The desert was hot, but the air around Thor crackled with static electricity. The Thunder God, lost on his way to Jotunheim, had stumbled into the Empty Quarter.
The Djinn coalesced from a dust devil. He was a being of whimsy and malice, made of fire without smoke. "You seem heavy, traveler," the Djinn whispered. "Let me lighten your burden."
The Djinn reached for Mjölnir.
Thor didn't flinch. "You are not worthy."
Smoke and Mirrors
The Djinn laughed as his hand passed through the handle. Smokeform & Windflight. He danced around the god, a blur of heat haze. "I am the wind! You cannot hit the wind!"
Thor grunted. He swung Mjölnir in a wide arc. The hammer passed harmlessly through the Djinn’s chest.
The Djinn cackled. Blooded Inhabitation. He circled closer, intending to flow into Thor’s ear and drive him mad with whispers.
The Physics of Thunder
Thor stopped swinging. He looked at the grinning smoke-man.
"Wind is just air," Thor stated. "Air moves."
He raised Mjölnir high. He didn't aim for the Djinn. He aimed for the anvil of the world.
Stormcaller's Roar.
Thor slammed the hammer into the bedrock.
KRACK-BOOM.
The impact didn't just break the ground; it shattered the atmosphere. A shockwave of compressed air exploded outward at Mach speed. Thunder is not just sound; it is pressure.
The Djinn, composed of gas and magic, was caught in the blast. The shockwave scattered his atoms, ripping his consciousness apart. He was blown into a million wisps of harmless heat, the laughter silenced by the deafening roar of the storm.
Thor shouldered his hammer. "Loud," he noted, and continued walking north.