Marvel’s Most Normal Man: Just Let Me Make Coffee!

Chapter 5: "Mistress Death Walks In… And Orders a Croissant"

At this point, nothing should surprise me anymore.

Thor chugging coffee like it's battle fuel? Normal.

Loki sulking in the corner because his tricks don't work? Whatever.

Hela casually sipping a latte like she doesn't have an army of the dead? Typical Tuesday.

But then… she walked in.

And the café got eerily quiet.

I've seen a lot of dramatic entrances. Loki's cape twirl. Hela's intimidating aura. But this woman? She didn't need drama. She just existed, and the entire room felt like it dropped a few degrees.

Tall, elegant, draped in a flowing black dress, her pale skin almost glowing under the dim café lights. Her hair cascaded like shadows, and her deep, dark eyes… They weren't just looking at me. They saw through me.

It was weird. Like staring at infinity wrapped in human form. She walked up to the counter, her movements slow, measured, like time itself bent for her.

And then, in the softest, most hauntingly beautiful voice, she said:

"…Do you have croissants?"

I blinked.

"…Uh, yeah."

She nodded. "I'll take one."

I looked at her, then at the silent café, then back at her.

"Uh, just to check… you're not another long-lost sibling of these guys, right?" I motioned toward Thor, Loki, and Hela, who were now all staring at her like she was a walking nuclear bomb.

Loki looked ready to faint. Thor was gripping his hammer. Hela just sighed.

The woman chuckled—a soft, melodic sound that made the café lights flicker.

"No," she said, taking her croissant with delicate fingers. "I am… someone else."

That was not a comforting answer.

Hela was the first to recover. She leaned back, smirking. "Well, well. Didn't expect to see you here, Death."

Thor stiffened. "D-Death?!"

Loki turned white as a sheet. "As in… THE Mistress Death?!"

The woman—Death, apparently—bit into her croissant. "Mmm."

I frowned. "Okay, but like… are you gonna pay for that?"

Loki choked.

Hela laughed.

Thor looked like he wanted to throw himself into the sun.

Death simply smiled. "Of course."

She reached into thin air, pulled out… exact change, and placed it on the counter.

I squinted at it. "You, uh… just keep exact amounts of mortal currency on you?"

She shrugged. "I prepare for things."

Creepy answer. But alright.

Loki leaned toward Thor, whispering furiously. "Brother. Do you understand what this means?"

Thor nodded, swallowing thickly. "Yes… Death is here."

Loki paled further. "Yes, but more importantly—she's acting normal."

Thor blinked. "What?"

"Think about it!" Loki hissed. "If she's powerless here, like us, that means—"

"—She's just a normal woman?"

"EXACTLY."

Both gods turned to stare at Death, who was now happily munching on her croissant, completely ignoring their meltdown.

Loki whispered, horrified, "Death is experiencing breakfast."

Hela snorted.

I sighed, wiping down the counter. "Look, guys. If you keep freaking out every time someone in black robes walks in, I'll start charging for drama."

Loki turned to me, wild-eyed. "You—you don't understand. That woman is—"

"—Eating a croissant," I said flatly.

Loki made a strangled noise.

Thor looked like he needed another drink.

Death, meanwhile, set her pastry down and smiled at me. "You don't seem afraid."

I shrugged. "Look, you're paying for food, not my soul, right?"

She chuckled. "Not today."

Loki looked ready to have an aneurysm.

Nick Fury watched from across the street, rubbing his temples. "First Hela, now Death? I swear, this barista is some kind of cosmic singularity."