Down the many halls of Stark Tower, muffled music echoed noisily. Unsurprisingly, at the point where these several halls rooted together was the one-and-only workshop of Tony Stark. Within the said workshop among the blaring music, Tony Stark worked, tinkering with the infamous Iron Man suit.
The workshop was where he spent most of his days; save the ones he spent dealing with SHEILD missions, at meetings (Ha, right.), or lounging around with a quality alcoholic beverage. He was currently working on an error in one of his energy repulsers, the left one to be exact, that had misfired earlier that day.
He hummed to the song idly, picking around some of the tedious wiring. It was dark and pouring outside, although the hammering sound droned out all but an occasional thunder strike. The patter of rain from outside was a mere texture on the windows. All was going pleasantly, the best part of the song about to ring out when suddenly the sound became fainter, the rumble of rain finally able to be heard.
Stark looked up with a confused frown. The lights were still on, so it must be a sound system malfunction. He was about to question Jarvis about it when the AI spoke up.
"Sir, several irregular readings have recently been recorded. I think you may want to take a look at them."
Tony looked up at the ceiling, his eyebrows creasing. "Jarvis, at the moment all I want is for my music to stay uninterrupted." He set the metal glove down, wiping some access oil onto his pants. "What's so important that I have to deal with it now?"
"If you would take a look out your window," Jarvis responded, a bit sarcastic, "you will notice that there is an aurora above Stark Tower which goes northwest for about seven miles,"
Tony snorted a bit at the AI's smug tone. "Are you implying I don't get out enough?" When here was no reply he moved to the window. There was definitely an aurora up among the storm clouds, glowing in pastel-like colors. His eyebrows creased. Definitely not normal. "Yeah, I see it. Is it comparable to any other readings recorded before today?"
"The readings are closely comparable to the Bifrost's energy signature."
"Asgard then," he concluded, shoving his hands into his pockets. There was a pause. "Hopefully?"
"It would seem so."
"Thor, maybe." He added, watching as lightning entwined with the aurora and spiraled away towards the horizon.
"That is the most probable conclusion." There was a small silence. "Should I prepare the rest of your suit, Sir?"
Tony smiled, "Jarvis, you know me too well."
Despite the fact that the storm was rough, lightning flashing and wind treacherous, the suit had no troubles rocketing through the rainy gales. The aurora had in fact seemed to sprout from directly above Stark Tower, stretching out far into the distance. He merely flew under the glimmering lights, the winds ripping fruitlessly at his outer shell. The city faded away, the land becoming more deserted as they went on.
It went on like this for a couple miles until the edge of the glowing brilliance finally came into sight, dark clouds swirling around what seemed to be the highest energy reading. He slowed, sweeping closer to the ground. It was much harder to see in the darkness, especially through the harsh rain, the lights of the city far in the distance.
"Scan for anyone." With a distasteful squishing sound, he landed into the muddy ground, beaten with rain. A light snapped up from his shoulder plate, although it only did so much in the swallowing blackness. Tony walked around where he assumed the center of the cloud mass was, really having no idea where he was going or what exactly he was looking for. If it was Thor, he assumed the fellow Avenger would have noticed him or at least made his way towards the city.
Several more minutes of useless searching passed, and Tony was starting to get impatient. "Anything?"
"To your left there is a small energy reading."
He turned slightly, the light swiveling with him. He walked forward, scanning ahead of him. In the distance he could make out a mound of... something lying on the ground. The muck smacked under the metal of his boots unpleasantly as he approached, and now just feet away from the figure, he noticed the silhouette looked almost humanoid. He shone the light on the dark frame, bending down to get a better look. They were half on their side, more-so front first in the mud. It was definitely a person. Pitch-black hair contrasted against a familiar white face. He reached his hand out, carefully moving them onto their back. The figure didn't stir, but suddenly the gears snapped together and it clicked. It was kind of hard to forget a person who had previously tried to kill you. He nudged the limp figure experimentally and it moaned quietly. Still alive. He wasn't sure to think if that was a good or bad thing.
"Jarvis, is this who I think it is?" It was more of a rhetorical question, but Jarvis replied anyway.
"If you're wondering whether or not that is Mr. Odinson, then yes, it would seem so."
"Well," he said, half in disbelief. Shit."