Chapter 29 – Apocalypse Then
Summary of Wand and Shield : Part One
A wayward traveller from another, magical world, Harry Potter has gotten himself mixed up with a mix of strange people with even stranger skills. Freeloading at Tony Stark's place after saving him from likely death in the desert of Afghanistan, he and Dr. Bruce Banner, retrieved from his isolation in Brazil, have a tentative alliance with the secretive government organization S.H.I.E.L.D. Nick Fury, its leader, keeps a close eye on all so-called 'Super-Heroes' and their malevolent counterparts. After facing the treachery of Obadiah Stane and the resulting media coverage, the three became well-known in their area, though each kept their identity a secret for the time being, aware of possible reprisals. Now Iron Man, the Magician and the Hulk, they form the core of a new team.
As the lone wizard on this new Earth, and wielder of the three Deathly Hallows, Harry finds himself caught up in the mystery of the local wizards' disappearance, and the connection between that extinction and current events, such as the discovery of a shining cube of mystical energy, the Tesseract, or the disappearance of hundreds of scientists from around the globe. S.H.I.E.L.D. identified a terrorist cell responsible for the kidnappings - at least in part - which was preparing to launch a nuclear assault on the United States, known as Advanced Idea Mechanics, A.I.M.
Teaming up with operatives Hawkeye and Black Widow of S.H.I.E.L.D. under command of Nick Fury, as well as the trans-dimensional warrior-maiden Sif, Harry and his allies of happenstance faced a human-turned-cyborg by the name of Tarleton, whose mechanical conversion is alien in origin. Stopping a missile at great risk to his own life, and meeting with the personification of death herself, Harry takes some much-needed alone-time in the aftermath to consider his future. He must also face responsibility for a death that occurred through his actions, in an attempt to help Bruce. Searching for answers to questions he has not fully formulated, Harry meets Prince Loki of Asgard and the web-spinning wall-crawler Spider-Man there.
In New York, Stark arranges for the construction of his new tower, the future home of those allies who are united in the Avengers Initiative, and must face questioning about the use and abuse of his self-made Iron Man armour. Spider-Man, perpetually lacking in funds and job-security, is hired on the spot by Tony, while Rhodey attempts to mediate between Stark Industries and the army before matters go out of control. Far away, the lady Sif finds herself locked in Asgard with her kin, incapable of returning to Midgard after Odin closes the gate behind her, because of possible threats and the imminent crowning of Thor as the new ruler of the realm.
Harry decides, after strange dreams begin interrupting his sleep, that the current calm is the ideal time to face that which he had been contemplating for a time: the fate of Hogwarts, and of the wizards who lived there.
Meanwhile, Agent Phil Coulson, S.H.I.E.L.D. operative, is sent far away on a secretive mission.
The wind stirred momentarily as Harry appeared with a pop, his hands in his pockets and his mokeskin pouch strapped to his waist, carrying most of his worldly possessions. His gaze wandered over his new surroundings and his face betrayed a flicker of distaste. This would have been Hogsmeade, in another world. In this one, it was just a soggy mess.
Decrepit ruins marred the hillside, looking decidedly weathered and unsightly rather than monumental in the dreary weather; a slight drizzle rained down on him, uncomfortably chilling. The path to Hogwarts, if it could be called that, was barely visible and worn away by time and neglect. Still, the pillars that flanked the road that ran up to the castle were familiar, though the statues that stood upon them had long since fallen off, or broken into pieces.
He was here for a reason; he slipped his wand out of his pocket, casually waterproofing his cloak and glasses, thinking back to a truly terrible Quidditch game with a slight smile. Still, the ruin here did not make it easy to be positive. Not just because it was a broken reminder of what happened to the wizards of this world, but also because of his dreams, his nightmares. They came frequently now, sharper than before, and they lingered in the mind.
The walls of Hogwarts dominated the rare moments when he could get enough sleep, and all he could think of was the tall man who spoke about the coming apocalypse, about the end of wizard kind. Every time, it seemed as if his voice broke more, betrayed more hidden anguish. Something moved above the clouds in those terrible dreams, something terrifying and huge. The futility of trying to shut oneself away from oncoming death was clear to him, and instinctual fear kept him going, prevented him from simply sitting down and waiting for the inevitable.
And then there was her. The spectre of Death was there, just as Harry remembered her, her pale face turned away as if in disgust, or perhaps a trace of pity.
Lock the hidden passage," the bald man commanded.
The boy faltered. "Lock it?"
"As permanently as you can manage. If we make it out of here, we will have the time to dismantle the protections at our leisure. If we do not…" He raised an eyebrow as he glanced aside. "Well? Why are you still here, Ambrosius?"
The world caught on fire. She was standing by the battlements, staring neutrally over the fiery sky and hundreds of refugees, her black hood pulled almost entirely over her face. All that was visible was the dull gleam of polished bone. Death.
She turned slightly, empty eye sockets suddenly replaced by sad eyes, as she held a gleaming, shimmering glass sphere in a bony hand. An opaque object, swirling with clouds, it drew his eyes as if it had a gravity all its own, as if the whole world orbited around it.
Harry shook his head, shivering. The inescapable conclusion that he had drawn from the twisted dreams weighed heavily on his mind, and he knew he had to come here, to see it for himself. Tony and Bruce had their own things to deal with, and perhaps this was the last time he had the opportunity to come here, if his fears were justified. It could hardly be a coincidence that he saw Death in his dreams, her ghostly figure standing upon the fallen battlements in those last moments, as if marking their passage. He saw that image even when he closed his eyes.
The dreams had to be real, not figments of his imagination. They were memories. The memories of Death. She was trying to tell him something with their content, perhaps reluctant to pull him into Hel again, considering his less than favourable first meeting. She was passing a message through these dreams, but they were of events long past. Was he supposed to be a witness to them, her twisted idea of a gift? Harry shuddered as he sought for the black-cloaked figure among the stones, wondering when she would show her face again, to tell him more unwanted truths.
The silence was broken quite suddenly. Harry felt his presence before he saw it, aware of the eerie peace fading from around him, as if it reluctantly retreated into the nooks and crannies. A figure had appeared besides Harry without even a whisper of movement, standing still, his hands clasped behind his back. "So, the lonely wizard returns to his ivory tower," the newcomer said with half a smile, his horned helmet shining palely in the failing light. "How very quaint."
"Loki," Harry replied coolly, narrowing his eyes at the green-clad Asgardian who inclined his head, a corner of his mouth turning up as his eyes seemed to pierce right through him.
Loki smirked. "At your service."
Harry sighed. "Why are you here? Are you following me? This visit has nothing to do with the cube. It's personal, if anything."
"Ah," Loki breathed, smirking. "But that is where you are wrong." The Asgardian gestured theatrically. "This place, this remnant of a fallen civilization, it's the key to things. It was inevitable that you would go back here, since you are the only one who can approach it. Others are held back by superstitious awe, or something else." He stopped next to Harry, wiping imaginary dust off his lapels.
"Why is that?" Harry asked, glancing to the Asgardian with half a mind to send him off, but quite sure that the man would keep inviting himself.
"This was the last bastion," Loki said shortly. "The Seidhr were in far greater numbers on the mainland, of course, but that is where the eradication began. Few had time to prepare, and most died in their homes, cut down before they realized their enchantments provided little protection. Here, some of the strongest of your kind gathered together, to fend off the end, and they succeeded for a time." He frowned as he looked away, to the ruins. "The end of the Seidhr has to be linked to the cube, for I have no doubt that the true reason for their destruction is clear to you. Though magic went extinct on Midgard, the enemy never gained their prize, and its protections would last for centuries afterwards... They were wrought from more than wizardry, since Odin All-Father himself had a hand in things, if indirectly. It took a millennium for the defences to wither down to nothing."
"Until now," Harry said darkly. "So, it seems all the world's wizards were killed over a shiny bauble that belongs to your people. Fantastic." He looked away. "If you don't mind, I'd like to be alone."
"So that you can pity yourself in peace?" Loki asked. "For someone who believes he is in this world to get away from his old life, you are quite content to wallow in your misery."
"Shut up," Harry spat, whirling around to face Loki, his wand raised. He took a few deep breaths. "I'm just here to confirm a theory, nothing more," he said at last. He quickly walked towards the centre of Hogwarts' ruins with a stiff gait, ignoring the look of disbelief that Loki sent him.
"You are having prophetic dreams," Loki observed. Harry froze in his tracks. "You seem to be under a misapprehension about me," the Asgardian added, reaching out with one hand. As they met Harry's shoulder, his fingers slipped through the fabric of Harry's clothes and then right through his skin, like a ghost. "I am not - shall we say - present. Remember that your mind was once caught in the worst of circumstances, and I returned you to the way you were. Did you think that such a reconstruction was simple, even for me? The connection was inevitable."
"Again?" Harry groaned, thinking of Voldemort, and the curse scar. "I have all the bloody luck."
"It seems so," Loki confirmed, and his eyes briefly took on a reddish glow that was far too familiar for comfort. "In truth, I am far from where I could harm you: I am in Asgard. There is much about magic that people fail to understand, that even you have little knowledge of, despite your hereditary gifts. Distance is not a factor in this mental communication, as I speak through the space between spaces - still, maintaining such a link is difficult in the first place. It has to be mutual in some respect to stabilize, if you will. If you wished me gone I would never be able to speak to you at all. Which implies that despite your words, you do not truthfully desire solitude."
Harry sighed, and looked away. "...Maybe," he reluctantly admitted. He perked up. "Wait, if you're in Asgard now, then you can tell me, did Sif arrive safely? Will she be coming back to Earth soon?"
Loki narrowed his eyes momentarily, displeased at Harry's eager expression. "The Lady Sif is confined to Asgard, as the All-Father demands. The gate to all worlds is closed. None may cross Yggdrasil until the crisis is over."
"Why?" Harry questioned, looking at the ruins of Hogwarts. "And why are you here, now? So you could see me mourn people I haven't actually met?"
"You are the reason," Loki started. "Your magic intrigues me, as do the Seidhr in general. There are many who can tap into the arcane, who can funnel their power into transformative effects upon the universe, but there are none like your kind of wizard, not anymore. The All-Father is considered the greatest of Asgard when it comes to magic. Indeed, he studied with the Seidhr of old, learned about their crafts. I suspect that the wizards enchanted Gungnir, his spear, giving it its unique properties, and inspiring the creation of other wonders. Regardless, for all its power, Asgardian magic is appallingly restrictive."
"Wizards are limited too," Harry countered quickly. "Most of us couldn't even light a candle without a wand, and there's a whole array of things that were impossible for one reason or another, like conjuring food, or resurrecting the dead."
Loki shrugged. "I was not speaking of the average practitioner. In Asgard, magic is considered a lesser art, and many of my kin fill their days with drinking and merriment, and care little for intellectual discourse. There are but few exceptions." He snorted. "Most are like my brother, thick-headed and with more muscles than wit. Among the Seidhr, too, few were capable of bringing their art to perfection, but those few were powerful enough to make the gods themselves tremble in fear."
Harry considered Voldemort and Dumbledore, and he could only imagine what damage they might have done to people who had no clue about magic, who were completely defenceless against even the weakest charm. Neither had lived in this world, but there had to have been others throughout history, ultimately defeated by their own hubris. Like Ambrosius, perhaps. Merlin Ambrosius.
Loki ignored Harry's short gasp. "The strongest of the Seidhr were called Black-staffs, named for their focus. Their magic was of the darkest kind, though they used it for many purposes, both good and ill - they were once in contact with Asgard, and kept alliances for a long period, until relationships soured." He shook his head mournfully. "The All-Father fought them after they betrayed our people to the Frost Giants of Jotunheim, but he did not mark their end."
Harry frowned. "And the rest of the wizards?"
Loki shrugged. "I have no doubt that it was the Black-staffs who were the origin of the so-called Tesseract," he said in lieu of an answer. "The cube was among the spoils of war when their leader fell in battle at the hand of a Seidmadr that was still allied to Asgard. Unfortunately, events conspired against all of them, and neither our allies nor the black-staffs survived the terrible firestorm that followed, the destruction of the arcane on Midgard." He looked around, frowning. "I can sense it even now, through you, the mutilation of things. It must have taken centuries for the world to recover, and by that time, the mystical creatures of Midgard had long vanished."
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Who was responsible for all that, then?" he asked. "You're implying that most of the wizards were victims of circumstance, aren't you, since someone was after the strongest of them, these black-staffs? Looking for the Tesseract, perhaps? Who decided that every wizard should die because of a feud with a few of them?"
"Not Asgard, obviously," Loki replied dryly. "Nor the Frost Giants, I think, as they showed no interest in such things. I suspected the Kree for a while, they were a warlike people in those days, but they most likely would have occupied Midgard in its weakest hour. The Chitauri would have consumed all in their path. I could suggest more outlandish possibilities: creatures from beyond the rim, the great Gah Lak Tus, the dead ones from dark stars. All those would have done far worse than merely kill."
"So... You don't know," Harry summarized. "I'm guessing it wasn't unprovoked?" He stared ahead with furrowed brow, remembering that horrible moment that the Dementors invoked in him. He thought of Voldemort stepping towards him and his mother, telling her to step aside. The image of Death on the battlements occurred to him again, standing vigil as the last wizards prepared for their final retreat. A familiar sphere was clasped between her spindly fingers. A terrible foreboding feeling ignited in Harry's gut, an uncomfortably familiar sensation that reminded him far too much of that day he had found out about his fate, in Dumbledore's office.
Neither shall live while the other survives.
The two sorcerers walked silently along the Hogwarts lake, which no longer existed as it used to, as Harry considered the implications. Oblong and shallow, there was not much left of the water, with a few puddles of rainwater along the edges. Here and there, portions of the great castle had collapsed into the depression that was left behind, and big grey blocks stuck out of the mushy ground like broken teeth, or gravestones. Loki followed him, his cloak untouched by the wind.
The last time Harry had come here, shortly after his arrival in this world, it had been a mere curiosity that drove him, Harry reflected. He had been a little confused, especially when Diagon Alley turned up missing, and come to Hogwarts for something familiar, hoping beyond hope that there was magic in this world.
"Someone is messing with fate, again," Harry said at last, turning to Loki. "If prophecies existed in my world, then they certainly must have in this one. Whoever destroyed all wizards, all magic, they might have done it out of aggression or revenge - but someone angry enough to commit genocide would probably not be bothered by Muggle casualties. One that was determined to stop a prediction, however..." He scowled. "Like Voldemort, they might go right for the heart, intent on slaying that which would be their end."
"Genocide as a preventative measure," Loki observed. "How droll."
Harry glanced at him coolly. "For a millennium, wizards have been extinct, here. Your people left, and the cube was lost in the interim, so whatever prediction was made, it must have been successfully prevented. Still, right when I appear in these parts, the road to Asgard reopens enough to let you and Sif through. The Tesseract is discovered, too." He grimaced. "Something tells me that it's not a coincidence. This mess is not over."
Harry kicked a broken rock in his way, hard, sending it crashing into the remnants of the lake below. A darkened face loomed in his memories, a terrible face that gazed with desire at the blue glow of the Tesseract, intent on clasping a golden glove around it. At the creature's side, impartial, was Death, her skull-like face a mask of grief.
"You could accept Asgardian assistance. If it is the cube that this enemy is after, then surely it would be better to remove it from Midgard," Loki said. "If it is you that your foe wishes to exterminate, then take Odin's offer of amnesty. I am sure he can be talked into letting you through, even if he would close the gate behind you."
"You know I'm not a coward, Loki," Harry snapped, before pausing for a moment to simmer down. "There's other things to consider than just me. Tarleton is connected to all of this, and whoever was in control of him must be well aware that I rummaged around in his head. I haven't exactly been covert, making public appearances on television and the like, if in costume - and I have been spotted with several other peculiar people." He snorted. "I was with Tony, of course I'd be noticed. If I left this place, regardless of where to, it would probably change nothing. The enemy must know where to find me already, and arranging for international war suggests that he's not bothered about collateral, not this time around. Most likely, I'm not even the real target."
The Asgardian huffed, rolling his eyes. "Do I have to remind you that the last time this threat appeared upon your shores, only magic was destroyed? Midgard was permitted to survive."
Harry shook his head. "Perhaps then - but those were the Middle Ages, people did not exactly pose much of a threat. Now, though - Muggles are getting too close to being dangerous to whatever's out in the dark, and Sif already told me she's convinced that it won't end nicely. Tarleton was a product of advanced technology, and I'm guessing that he's only the beginning of what we're facing. If Tony's father could create an Arc Reactor, then others can do more than that, and there's no telling where it'll end. If the Earth attracts attention before it can defend itself..." He frowned. "Well, we have a team lined up to defend it, don't we? Tony, Bruce, Natasha, Clint, not to mention Sif, when she gets around again, and whoever else S.H.I.E.L.D. can fetch. And me, of course."
"Ah yes: a tinkerer, a beast, a handful of spies. Truly the world's mightiest," Loki drawled. "Add the much-vaunted 'Master of Death' to top it off. Surely a group barely capable of stopping a minor warhead can withstand an interstellar armada." The Asgardian sighed wearily. "Clearly you haven't gotten quite enough of dramatics."
"That, coming from you, Loki? Don't make me laugh." Harry ignored the Asgardian's sneer, glancing to his side. Perched on one of the broken walls near the entrance of Hogwarts, six meters up, was a small camera with a tiny little light that blinked on and off every few seconds. He had been caught by it on his first day here in this world, and alerted S.H.I.E.L.D. with it. With a single word, it fizzled out with a spark.
The great door of the Hogwarts entrance hall was old and rotten, practically collapsing under its own weight, but the rusted metal hinges seemed strong enough to keep it upright. There were a few half-decayed stone statues around the courtyard, their features blurred by years of rain, but the very vague outlines of great hogs were still visible. Harry ran his hand across the wooden door while Loki leaned against the marred wall, looking on with a veneer of boredom, though his eyes betrayed that he was alert.
"If this is the last remnant of Wizarding-kind, and I have reason to think that it is, then perhaps I'll figure out who our enemy is, in here," Harry started. "We'll need that kind of information. If you just want to hunt your shiny bauble, go bother someone else." He turned to the door, not waiting for an answer. "Alohomora," he whispered as he ran his wand down the grain. There was a soft click inside. He pushed against the door, but it would not budge. Something was blocking the door, it seemed. He grabbed one of the large metal rings on the door, hoping that pulling on it wouldn't tear the door apart, and gave it a good shove. Slowly it moved outward.
Just as the door opened enough, and Harry tried to sneak a peek, there was a ripple in the air, static electricity that was far too powerful to ignore, a wave of power. Harry released the ring as it shocked him on his hand with a vicious jolt; the huge door slammed shut with a solid thump. Slowly, the almost tangible force vanished, subsided into insignificance again. A click resounded as the door locked itself.
Harry stared, wide-eyed. "So, I'm the last wizard, but there's still magic," Harry said. Loki was next to him, leaning in with gleaming eyes. Harry reached out, smiling to himself. "Unmistakable. These are remnants of ancient enchantments, alive and well after a thousand years of dormancy. Incredible!"
"They are more than remnants," Loki added. "There are strong defences, though they are paper-thin. A veneer of protection rather than a wall. They should be easy to push through. This is something that would veil the eyes of many, as it has surely been stronger in the past. Long ago, it might have fooled the All-Father himself into passing it by."
Harry swallowed thickly. Magic. Powerful magic. Nothing but ruins remained of the castle, and it had been neglected for a thousand years, yet someone had put a spell on the door that was strong enough to deny him entry, even now. Harry reached out again, and he could feel the roiling energy below his hands, watching what he might do, almost as if it was aware of him. There was no telling what would happen if he tried to force the door again. This had to be a spell cast by the Founders themselves, or by Merlin.
Magic had persisted here, even with its practitioners long dead, hidden away inside the stone and the wood so deeply that not even Harry had felt it, the first time he had come. Harry smiled in recognition as he finally put his hand back on the door, well away from the metal rings. Hogwarts was alive. This feeling was familiar, just as he remembered from his own version of the castle. For a brief instant it felt like he had stepped back to his own world and visited a Wizarding world that was still going strong.
The world abruptly faded around him, and something else took its place. He saw himself, standing before the remnants of an ancient tree, plants flourishing on all sides. He held a wand to the side of his head, his eyes closed, and by his side stood the spectre of death, one bony hand resting softly on his shoulder even as she touched the other side of his head with her icy finger. The clearing flared with light, with an incandescent glow that was painful to look at, that seemed to surge through him; then it vanished, and he was gone as well.
What the hell was that?
The lock on the door clicked open.
"Are you completely insane?"
"Not according to my psychiatrist," Tony replied tersely, looking up from his laptop. "What's going on now, Rhodey? I'm busy with some very important things right now. They require my full attention. I swear, if I make one typo, I will get a swarm of incredulous responses that you won't believe - its the internet, after all" He glanced aside, to the teen sitting next to him with an identical laptop. "How's it going on your end?"
"Good, excellent," Peter Parker said awkwardly, glancing to Rhodey with a curious expression before he turned back to his screen. "Just tell me what to do, Mr. Stark."
A momentary expression of unease flitted over Tony's face. "Just 'Tony'. You make it sound like I'm pushing fifty, and I'd like to think I don't look shrivelled yet." He stretched, cracking his knuckles. "Rhodey, sit down. You're making me nervous when you hover." He gestured vaguely to his cell phone, which was propped up against a pile of disorganized files on his desk. "I'm waiting for my legal team to call any moment - I need to focus. I can't afford distractions. Not when I'm working."
"You're surfing the internet and posting on message boards under assumed names," Rhodey deadpanned. "I checked the secure feed, you know. You gave me access yourself, did you think I wouldn't use it? What are you up to?"
Tony scowled. "I'm surfing the internet and I'm working, both. Multi-tasking, have you heard of it?" The genius prodded his neighbour in the arm. "Hey, Peter, I had a brainwave. Tell me, what would it take, do you think, to stretch an all-organic network line from this building to, say... the courthouse we talked about?"
Peter blinked. "Uh, all-organic?"
Tony tapped his wrist. "Custom formula, just go with it. I need to know how much it would take, assuming the usual thickness of the strands. I'm thinking maybe six or so packages, but I'm not sure if that's practical."
Rhodey stepped forward and slammed Tony's laptop closed then, and its owner winced when it beeped in protest. "Look, I'm not an idiot. Tell me what you're doing, because I sure as hell don't think it's legal." He narrowed his eyes. "Who is this guy?"
"That guy is my newest employee, pal," Tony replied immediately. "Grumpy, meet Peter Parker. Peter, meet James Rhodes, liaison of whatever, yadda yadda," He flipped his laptop open again with a frown. "As for what I'm doing... I'm firing the first shot. It'll take a few days to catch on, but by the time I'm going in for the hearing, it'll be everywhere."
"The lawsuit?" Rhodey asked. "Against Justin Hammer? It could drag on for months, Tony. You should let me handle it, as your liaison with the armed forces... You have no idea what kind of things these people will pull out of their-" He coughed. "What they'll come up with to discredit you."
"The military's behind this whole mess, so I rather think your involvement would work against me," Tony observed. "Both Hammer and the government are after my weapons, and I happen to have a serious love for the second amendment." He raised an eyebrow. "There's a general or two that are ready to shoot a few new holes in me if it means they can have the Iron Man, and recent events have hardly improved that. I intend to pick up that gauntlet and shove it in their face."
"Do you think you can win against the legal might of the entire government?" Rhodey snapped. "If you go in and make this personal, they'll skin you alive, Tony. Hammer will see to that, at least. You can't assume they'll stay unconcerned forever, at some point they'll hit back. It's best, then, if it's your representatives that take the blow, rather than you personally. It could wreck your company."
Tony shrugged. "The army's cagey about revealing the events in Chili to the public, but they know what I did, and they intend to use it against me. They'll frame it to be a demonstration that I'm a danger to the world, by cutting together some footage of destroying robots and claiming they're government-owned. I don't think they'll get any more creative than that. It'd be enough."
"So...?"
Tony smiled. "I destroyed that option. The footage is on the internet now, Rhodey. The whole thing, barring sensitive stuff like identities. I've got footage from everyone: from the suit camera, two different ground stations that I tapped into, and one recording via a dinky old satellite. The whole show is on it, including the explosive ending, and it's plenty clear what we were fighting. Everyone will know."
"Know what?" Rhodey asked. "That you have fantastic CGI technology? Who's going to believe it?" Rhodey ran a hand through his short hair. "I can hardly believe it, and I know this stuff happened, right down to someone riding a nuclear missile into the stratosphere."
"I don't have to do anything to make people believe it's true," Tony said with a lazy smile. "You underestimate the resourcefulness of the public, and just how many people are watching. It'll be a matter of time before amateurs just happen to stumble across supporting information. Like the suspiciously unprotected video files that show the removal of a cruise missile's remains from my Malibu home. Or the footage from local police sources that will mysteriously pop up, even after the authorities were quite thorough in destroying their records."
"You're manipulating this on a grand scale, then," Rhodey said, shaking his head. "It will blow up n your face."
Tony shrugged. "There's nothing illegal on the tapes. The army can't charge me for using my private property in defence of the country, especially since I made sure that it was legal through S.H.I.E.L.D. Granted, they probably won't be named in court. Hammer just lost his ticket to claiming the Iron Man's a danger to society, since the only thing he can show is me protecting it."
"You think that will stick?"
Tony nodded. "He will try to go around it - but I'm ready. Bringing Stark Industries into it is a no-no, since it's way too powerful even now to try and butcher without wrecking part of the economy. Believe me, they can't use the upset right now. Between that and the footage, it leaves little for them to focus on."
"I'm working on another possibility right now. A broader assault," Peter broke in. "It's a little ways from high school chemistry and physics, but the principle's the same, right? Action and reaction, and it's all about the catalysts. In this case, you."
Tony rolled his eyes. "That sounded downright snooty, Peter. Humility suits a rookie. Be glad I don't have you getting me coffee all day," he muttered as he caught Rhodey's dumbfounded look, who had clearly forgotten the teen was there. "Yeah, Pete does know about me and my suit, and a bunch of other things," he admitted casually. "It's a long story, it involves bridges and mutual acquaintances, and no shortage of bad science puns. With Banner off with his girl, and Harry trotting back to jolly old England, I needed someone with intellect to bounce ideas off of."
Rhodey rubbed his forehead tiredly. "Whatever you say. I'm just telling you, you're making yourself a bigger target with this crap. You don't want the army as your enemy."
"Don't I?" Tony asked glibly. "Don't worry. Just to make sure they won't do anything funny, I'll be doing something new tonight, to get a little public attention and goodwill. I've arranged for an interesting announcement. Something suitably hush-hush."
"...What is it?"
Tony smiled. "Stark Industries will announce a new joint project that will basically catapult us into the mainstream again. It'll short-circuit any dirt that the army might have on me. Nobody cares about drinking habits when you're being awesomely badass."
"What did you do?" Rhodey sounded like he had given up.
"I put a little plan together while I was out of commission. I called on a few favours from a friend, in exchange for a few of my own." Tony shrugged easily. "The people who are trying to put me out of business are the same types that want corporations in power, and I'm going to show the ultimate example of private business excelling where governments fail. Between public favour and that, the court will practically be eating out of my hand. Defence won't be able to touch me. Tonight, Repulsor technology makes a giant leap." He pointed up, smiling broadly.
"A giant -" Rhodey blanched. "Oh, you're kidding."
Tony grinned. "I don't think I am."
"Lady Sif. It is good to see you in these halls," Volstagg said, blinking.
"Just Sif, please. This isn't the first time we meet," she snapped irritably, slipping down beside him on a bench as she grabbed a bread and savagely tore into it. "Again, I was denied! I have offered my very blade, a masterpiece of Asgardian engineering unparalleled in recent centuries, and he has the gall-" She swallowed, staring down at her plate angrily. "He refuses to hear me, I believe. He thinks I have been corrupted by my time on Midgard." She snorted.
"Is this about the Seidmadr kid?" Volstagg asked, frowning. "You're still on about that? Let him be. Midgard's large enough for him. 'S not like he cared to come here in the first place." He snorted. "Honestly, humans. Don't know what you see in the weaklings."
"I vowed to return to Midgard," Sif said sharply. "I gave my word! I cannot sit idly by in Asgard as the last Seidmadr's home comes under siege. I would never be able to forgive myself if I were to commit such treachery." She sighed. "There are heroes even in the mortal realms, even if Asgard prefers not to think on the matter. I gave Harry my dagger, Volstagg."
The red-bearded Asgardian sputtered, smacking himself on the chest as he coughed, dislodging a piece of ham. "You? You gave him one of your weapons? Not even Thor-"
"That is because Thor is a numbskull," Sif responded immediately. "I told Harry that I would be there to retrieve it, a promise I intend to hold myself to. Indeed, if it had not been for the All-Father's insistence to close the bridge, I would have already been there again, after I arranged matters here." She frowned. "Midgard is changing, Volstagg. It's not the same place that we remember, the same place from the stories of old. The people who were near-savages then, are now building machines that can stand up to an Asgardian's might, or surpass it, and their geniuses far outshine ours, as we have grown complacent in our superiority. I have seen men who make themselves into weapons, and then use that might not for conquest, but for honourable purposes. It is remarkable."
"So? What do you want to do about it?" the sizable Asgardian asked, shrugging. "The gate's closed. Even if your Midgard friends were bothered by your absence, there's not a lot to do about it. I'm sure they'd understand that even you follow orders."
Sif grimaced. "Knowing the All-Father, it will remain closed for years. Few will miss the Bifrost in these days, as they no longer travel to the distant worlds. What would we do among Frost Giants or Dark Elves except seek violence and bloodshed? No, I will find another way, if I must. Asgardians travelled before there was a Bifrost; that way must remain."
"Ask Loki," Volstagg suggested softly. "Don't speak so loudly about these things. They could be seen as seditious."
"Prince Loki..." Sif said, frowning. "You know his somewhat dubious reputation, despite his high standing." She sighed. "Perhaps the price for his assistance is worth it, though with the Bifrost closed, he would want a high bounty, and I have little to give. If my sword cannot sway the All-Father into accepting my dedication, then it shall certainly not affect Loki's whims."
"I don't know anyone else who could help," Volstagg admitted. "With the crowning so very close, few would dare to go against the new edict. You'd end up in the stockades, or worse."
Sif looked away, biting her lip. "It seems there is no easy answer to this troubling matter." She took another piece of bread and stood up. "Thank you nevertheless, for hearing me out. I suppose I will return to my chambers, and consider what can be done. Good evening."
She left, and Volstagg leaned back, frowning. "You heard all that, didn't you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he glanced over his shoulder. "What were you doing, hiding back there? It's not like you to sneak around."
A tall, broad-shouldered figure stepped out from behind the wall, his golden-blond locks obscuring his narrowed eyes as he gazed after her. "The Lady Sif has not said a word to me since her return, and yet she speaks of an earthling as if he is an equal. It is improper, even if he is of the old folk. Volstagg, keep matters to yourself. I have a brother to find."
"As you say, Prince Thor." Volstagg swigged down a large ale, and burped. "But I swear, this means trouble, big trouble..."
Harry glanced up to his hand, pressed against the door, as the wood warmed up under his fingers. He had to cut back a yell of surprise when it turned a lush brown without a single word on his part, and the whole door seemed to fill with heat and life. The wood began to grow, to revive, and the rot disappeared into nothingness. Long cracks that had worked their way through in the many years since it had last been opened were fusing together again, and colour flowed back. Stones brightened, losing years of soot and dust. Then the doors swung open very slowly.
"Well, that took you long enough," Loki muttered, peering into the darkness.
"It's still here!" Harry whispered to himself in awe, as he stared at the patch of living material in the middle of a decayed ruin, as well as the dusty entrance hall that was visible inside, far too large for the remnants of the castle to contain. It was then that he realized what he was looking at, what had fooled him so thoroughly.
In his own world, Muggles only ever saw a dead ruin when they visited Hogwarts. Instead of the magical school, they would see a destroyed castle that was uninviting and seemed ready to collapse at any moment. Harry realized now that he had been seeing the same here, had even believed it to be the case. The spell had been affecting him, even though he was a wizard, and only now did it let him in, when he spurned the warnings and used his magic on the door. This had to be the last defence of Hogwarts. The inhabitants had locked themselves away from the world.
For centuries, Hogwarts had been here, dormant, a last refuge for wizardry hidden from prying eyes by the same magic that protected it in his own world, but broadened to include everyone. Except there were no more wizards to seek sanctuary, and it vanished into obscurity. Perhaps the castle itself had become paranoid about intruders and visitors, closing its doors to all but those who had built it, mournfully concluding that there would be no new students.
"Remarkable," Loki said slowly. "It was perfectly hidden. Until mere moments ago, I did not even suspect that this place was alive at all." The Asgardian gestured inside, raising an eyebrow. "Come now, this is not where your bravery ends, is it?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "You're annoying, you know that?" he muttered, slipping his wand out of his pocket as he lit it with a word. He stepped into the entrance hall as the doors closed behind him with a soft squeak, raising his hand as he moved into the entrance hall with some trepidation. The torches on the walls had long since burned out, and the windows were broken or covered in soot, so there was little to illuminate anything except the pitiful shine of his Lumos. The stone floor was mostly bare, though some remnants of ancient tapestries still adorned the walls.
A dark shape was stretched across the hall about thirty meters in, and Harry jerked back when he recognized what he was looking at: It was a man, or what was left of one. Stretched out on the ground with his arm to the side, his flesh long since gone, were the skeletal remains of some ancient warrior. Clutched in his hand was a broken sword - a very familiar sword.
"It's... Godric Gryffindor," Harry said in a strangled tone as he raised his wand, focusing intently. "Incendio." Sputtering, torches burst alight, one after the other. The entrance hall slowly became illuminated by the flickering fires, and Harry could see more bodies, dozens of them, huddled against the walls or against each other. Gryffindor was in front of six others, three of them small enough to be from children. They had been students.
"So, the enemy got in," Harry observed slowly. "Gryffindor fought them to his death, though I guess the enemy took their corpses with them." He shook his head. "If the killers invaded this place, then I know what we'll see in the rest of the castle."
Harry closed his eyes. There was no scent of blood or death left, since it was so long ago that these people had died, but he felt as if there should be. He knew what he would find in the rest of the castle. Piles of bodies, including students, in every nook and cranny. This was what happened to Hogwarts, this was what the end of wizard-kind looked like. In the death throes of magic itself, Hogwarts had turned from a place of learning into something else. It had become a forgotten tomb, an unmarked grave.
Harry bent down to study Gryffindor's sword, and the hilt slipped easily from its owner's brittle remains, clattering to the floor. It had been left behind by the enemy, even though Harry could feel the warm hum of magic that coursed through it, even now. Perhaps he should shut the gates of Hogwarts, he considered, and never return to this godforsaken place again. He knew he was the only wizard around, and a magical artefact like this would go to waste, fading away in some lost castle - but it seemed like desecration to take what was not his. Still, his conscience kept reminding him that he had used the sword before, and it was always meant to go to those who would have the courage to use it. He hardly thought this was where Gryffindor had intended it to end up.
The door closed with a soft thump behind him as Harry straightened. Loki narrowed his eyes. "Something stirs in the air," he said slowly. "It is a foul thing."
"There's a lot of death here," Harry said as he shrugged half-heartedly. "Whatever killed him, there's no way to tell who it was from just this. No wounds to see, no weapons to find. He could have died from the Killing Curse, even, there's no way to know."
Loki hissed under his breath, raising a hand and gesturing for silence. "Not a smell - can you not feel it?"
Harry paused - as he did, there was a sudden silence, as if the world held its breath. The slight draft that he had felt before did not so much die down as stop - as did the wind outside. In an instant, Harry was upright and tense, his wand raised as the torches' flickering flames roamed across the hall, eerily illuminating abandoned hallways and little rooms. Harry felt suddenly queasy, realizing that something indeed felt off, as if everything had shifted ever so slightly, and he nodded warily to Loki. The windows were still darkened, but it was a malevolent black now, far more final than before. It felt as if haunting eyes were gazing in, their hungering smiles almost visible, even as the perfect lack remained.
"What..." He swallowed, the word dying on his dry lips. It seemed suddenly very unwise to disturb the silence. Harry shuddered involuntarily, and paled. He knew the hall had not actually changed, but it seemed distorted, different - though he could not tell how. He turned to Loki, who glanced around with a curious expression, seemingly equally unwilling to break the silence, even if his voice was more in Harry's head then actually real.
The temperature dropped suddenly, or so it seemed, and Harry felt a spike of intense loneliness, as if he had been trapped inside his old cupboard for a week, even as he knew full-well that it was not true. He cringed involuntarily, focusing on Loki to remind himself that there was someone else present, that there was no reason to panic - it helped that the Asgardian seemed entirely at rest. A tremor ran down his back as loneliness made way for fear - he quite suddenly realized that he was the sole living thing in a castle full of corpses, and they surrounded him. A sharp terror tried to grab hold, and then a sudden anger, a hate that ignited in his gut, intent on ripping apart the ones responsible for what happened here.
Finally, he let out a whimper - pathetic and weak. It was enough, however - Loki turned to him, his eyes suddenly sharp as knives as he reached out and something twisted. "Harry Potter," he spoke. "Focus."
From one moment to the next, with no transition whatsoever, Harry stumbled in place as fear and hate evaporated into nothingness - and he suddenly felt incredibly foolish. He licked his lips, finding them raw and cracked, as if he had not spoken in days, as if he had barely breathed. "What..." he said, and this time the word came out as it should, and relief washed over him. "...You would know that name, wouldn't you?" he finally said, and he chuckled slightly, relishing in it.
"Focus," Loki repeated sharply. "I am - not influenced by this place, as you are. Clearly. I believe I have determined what this place is, however." He turned slightly. "See for yourself," the Asgardian said, gesturing to the door. "Go on. They will leave you be for the moment, now that you have spurned their grasp."
Harry reluctantly stepped over, ignoring the icy terror creeping up on him once more, and it vanished. He wondered if the place was haunted in a different way than he was used to - perhaps the ghosts were so far gone that he could no longer see them, or Dementors were roaming the halls. He grabbed the iron rings on the doors, and pulled with one sharp movement. The doors opened effortlessly.
There was only inky, roiling blackness on the other side. It seemed so utterly wrong that it felt like an ocean of grief was trying to undulate through the opening and empty into the entrance hall. It seemed almost like it was kept at bay by the wafer-thin enchantments upon the building, and Harry leaned back involuntarily, teeth chattering. The blackness seemed to reach out, and Harry could have sworn he heard skittering little hands claw at the edges of it. Something shifted in the deep, impossibly enormous and yet so very close that he flinched, and slammed the doors closed again.
It took him a long, terrifying minute to gather his breath.
"My hunch was correct, then," Loki murmured. "The darkness did feel familiarly pressing, and its effects on the unprepared mind... Well, you would know."
Harry turned to the Asgardian as he rubbed his eyes, shuddering. "We're trapped." He glanced uncomfortably down the hall, to the corpse of Godric Gryffindor, and for an instant he was convinced that the skeleton would rise up as an Inferi, drawing its blade on the new arrival. "What the bloody hell is that, out there?"
"Not what," Loki chided. "Where. Suffice to say it is somewhere else." He shook his head, eyes darkened. "Your people did what few others dare, it seems. When you entered the castle, you stepped into an echo, a thin membrane covering a hole in what was supposed to be. It was as if the place existed in two places at once. When the illusion ensnared you, however, that covering vanished - and you came here, to the place that should exist, but doesn't."
"We were transported," Harry concluded, clasping his wand tightly in his hand. "When the doors closed - it felt a little like a Portkey, but I barely even thought about it at all... How?" He frowned, turning his worried eyes back to the door. "It feels... cold, even now. Dead, and yet moving, shifting. It's like emotions are still trapped here, even without people to feel them." He shivered. "When you say somewhere else -"
"Chaos," Loki supplied, and his sharp eyes betrayed discomfort for a moment. "Out there is the kingdom of gibbering madmen, a realm far removed from any others within Yggdrasil, where none have dared to tread since ages long past, and it attempted to ensnare you. These black lands are no-man's land, a battlefield from forgotten wars. Indeed, it is said that even the gods hesitate to set foot here, since it claws even at their souls. Nobody would go voluntarily. Nobody."
Harry was silent for a time. Finally, he spoke. "Nobody, you claim. Except, perhaps, if the traveller decides on it in a moment of desperation?" Harry swallowed thickly. "Like the impending genocide of your kind, perhaps?"
Loki considered the idea for a long moment, then nodded. "These Seidhr knew their last hours had come, and might not have wanted to give the enemy the satisfaction of success. Instead of transporting the castle itself, which would be a greater feat still, they took only that which they needed. The inside of the castle, stripped of its dimensional moors." He grimaced. "They shifted their home, and themselves, into the black lands. Perhaps to hide until their enemy retreated, perhaps to find a new home. It was foolish, far more than they could have imagined."
"Doesn't look like they made it back," Harry murmured softly, and Loki grunted in assent. "This was a last stand," he added as he glanced at the corpse of Godric Gryffindor again. "It is the way that he would choose to die, isn't it? Right at the front gate, sword in hand, until the end came. Like he knew it was coming. The others - cowering by the walls, not running away. Like they knew that there was nowhere to run to."
"They must have been aware of his fate," Loki agreed, leaning down, his spindly fingers touching the decaying skull of Gryffindor. "This man is nothing but bones, now. A millennium has passed - his soul would have found its way out, even from a place as void and pitiless as this."
There was a sound, then, a rumble from afar. Harry glanced to Loki, and grimaced at the dismayed expression on the Asgardian's face. "Time to leave," Harry said, and he turned on the spot without a second thought. The world twisted momentarily, and strange colours and unsightly shapes shifting before his eyes, before he landed back at the same spot he had left, and he collapsed. He heaved, then vomited onto the floor as the world failed to stop flailing wildly in all directions. The disgusting scent of half-digested dumplings overtook everything.
"Lovely," Loki said with a sneer. "Just because I am a figment does not mean I cannot smell," he added as he scrunched up his nose. "What filthy things do you humans eat?"
Harry vanished the mess as he cradled his head with his hand. "It's like it's not even there!" he exclaimed. "I bounced back - I bounced!" He shivered, rinsing out his mouth for good measure. "There's no anti-apparition protections, I think. Just nothing." He frowned. "Hold on, I still have my eyebrows, right? Last time someone got apparition wrong in here..."
"Humans," Loki muttered disdainfully.
"Pardon me for not panicking," Harry snapped, and then he shivered - and he was suddenly convinced someone was watching him. It was not Loki, but something far more malicious, malevolent. He glanced around with worried eyes. "There's something else in here with us," he said, hand clasped around the Elder Wand tightly. Gingerly, Harry leaned over and picked up the handle of Gryffindor's sword, just in case. Warmth flowed from it, ancient magic that had remained undiluted by the centuries, a testament to Goblin craftsmanship. This founder had not apparated away, but faced whatever had killed him, and Harry was uncomfortably aware that whatever that was, it might still be around, to pick off the latest flies that walked into its web.
"That will do you little good," Loki said dismissively.
"Watch me," Harry replied easily. Raising the Elder Wand, Harry reverently put its tip at the base of the hilt, and spoke commandingly. "Reparo."
Shards shot from every direction, large and small, swirling together with what seemed like dust - the ancient remains of a tassel that had long decayed. Fusing itself back together, the blade took shape, its gleam undiminished even as Harry could sense the magic return to the deadened remnants, the goblin metalworking reinvigorated. The very air seemed to spark with joy as the spell finished.
The sword felt heavy in his hand - but it was a familiar weight.
"And you say your magic cannot bring back the dead," Loki muttered, eyes narrowed at the shining blade. "Semantics."
Harry ignored the comment, or the eerie sensation of watching eyes, brandishing sword and wand together. A high-pitched, screeching noise erupted from beyond the door to the outside, and he whirled to face it - A mournful wail followed, and it skittered across the skin like nails on chalkboard, unambiguously feral, wild. Alive.
"There's chaos out there, you said," Harry noted. "Does this Chaos have teeth?"
Loki sighed. "There are reasons why none come to these parts," he observed dryly. "There is nothingness beyond this place, a state of existence that by its very nature attacks that which does exist - chaos. Here, on the edge of existence and its opposite, there are Haven't-Beens and Neverweres, wallowing their state of being, grasping desperately for reality."
"The monsters want food. Which would be us," Harry concluded blandly, as a shiver ran down his back. "Appetizers to the latest creature on the block, how wonderful. How do we fight them?"
The laugh of what might have been a hyena echoed from beyond, interrupted midway through by a gargling howl that made Harry's hair stand on end. Ripping sounds followed, like claws gouging into stone, or into petrified wood. The door moved, ever so slightly, as if a great weight was pressed upon it from the other side. Something long and black slipped through the cracks, a lash of ghastly thorns and spikes and a single, pupil-less eye that stared balefully.
"We don't," Loki snapped in response. "Why are you loitering here? Go."
"I can slow them down," Harry said sharply. "Colloportus!" The door closed with a vicious clang as the thorned tentacle was severed. A pained screech resounded as the detached remnant twitched; before Harry's eyes it righted itself on spindly legs that seemed to extrude from all its sides, clawed or tipped in vicious barbs. Slowly, the thing got itself upright, its single eye suddenly ringed with monstrous teeth, serrated and dripping with acid that sizzled on the floor. It let out a gurgling that almost sounded like a deranged laugh.
"Cute," Harry said, deadpan. "It's not quite a Blast-Ended Skrewt, but you don't suppose I could take it to Hagrid?" He smirked at Loki's incredulous expression. "Never mind..."
"Do you have a death wish?" Loki inquired.
Harry glanced aside, blinking. "Sometimes I wonder." He backed off from the shambling creature, through a pair of double doors and into the next hallway, towards the Great Hall. The thing skittered closer, its asymmetrical shape doing little to help its awkward movement, and it slipped and slided on the smooth stone. Before it could get close enough, and it was quite desperately clawing its way forward to reach him, Harry locked the next set of doors as well, and charmed them with the Elder Wand to remain firmly closed. A squelching sound resounded, then silence.
Harry sighed, relieved, as he glanced at Gryffindor's sword. He was fairly certain that something that clumsy was not going to break through the doors, even if its nastier brethren might, but the sword would at least make for an effective weapon, should his magic fail - in his experience, swords worked quite effectively on a lot of things.
"The creature will break through in time," Loki observed. "With every passing moment, it becomes more real, infused with purpose - and more dangerous." He scowled. "The spirit of chaos lies heavily on this place."
"Then we'd better find a way out before it gets to me," Harry agreed. "...Speaking of which, how do I get out?"
Loki shrugged helplessly.
"Fat lot of good you are." Harry rolled his eyes. "There's more exits than the front gate - I imagine it's the best guarded of the bunch, too. There's a whole bunch of secret passages that might still exist. I think I'll go for those first. Maybe the one to Honeydukes - if it is where I remember." He frowned. "I don't suppose a Portkey would work - unless I had a target I could actually get to, it would just bounce like apparition, I imagine..." He slipped a hand into his bag, and scowled at his cell phone. "No range, either - figures."
"I would advise haste." Loki glanced back to the door - there was an odd clicking sound from afar. Thankfully, it would take the creature a while to gnaw through a huge wooden door like this, especially one properly charmed with all sorts of protections.
"Right," Harry agreed, raising his wand and illuminating the darkened hallway. Something that seemed almost like plastic was stretched most of the way across the corridor, and right into the Great Hall - a long and thin white filament. "What is this stuff?" he muttered and he reached out, frowning. The texture was rough, almost sharp to the touch. Recognition itched at the edge of his mind. He had seen something like this before, in Hogwarts. It was almost like the...
"Fuck me," he breathed, jerking his hand back from the huge sloughed-off skin, clasping it painfully around the hilt of Gryffindor's sword as he fetched his invisibility cloak.
"The Basilisk is loose!"
The bridge was silent, though it was hard to say that things were calmer than usual. Alerts kept coming in, but there were too few people to respond to them all with more than a casual look. A dozen Quinjets had already left for a number of places, and all of them seemed like potential trouble. In the wake of the Avengers Initiative's first outing, everything might turn out to be important. Fury picked up his phone impatiently, eyes fixed on his screen. "Report."
"Director, I have a status update. And it's a biggie."
He turned, his eyes roving over the bridge as he tapped his earpiece. "Coulson? Is that you?"
"Yes, I guess I'll just say it, sir... We found him."
Fury straightened. "You're sure?"
"They're cutting him out now, sir. Still wearing the uniform. You're not going to believe this, but our doctor, she says he might still be alive in there!"
"Alive?" Fury smiled, and he noted with interest the lack of surprise he felt. "Really now? That's interesting..." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I will have Miss Hill set up appropriate quarters, and you can get all the medical staff you need. Transport will arrive as soon as possible." He muttered to himself. "I'll get Barton and Romanoff on the case."
"I'm sorry, what was that in the middle there? It's quite loud out here..."
Fury hung up, smirking. "He's just in time," he murmured. "What's a platoon without a Captain?"
Author's Note : Welcome to Part 2 of Wand and Shield, after a few months of interlude. As you will note, some more characters join the fun, and the story moves onwards to new places. Yes, Loki, Thor and Cap are stepping in, completing the original Avengers line-up, though they don't have identical roles here. Next chapter will be action-heavy and mostly focused on Harry.
Events from Iron Man 2, Thor, and bits of Captain America and The Incredible Hulk are currently playing out, but only the first two will have a significant part to play in the coming chapters. When those are done, we're going for the Big Damn Heroes Avengers, which kicks off the final and longest arc of the fic. I am incorporating elements from Phase 2, so expect some new faces that perhaps haven't even shown up in the movies yet, or at all, though they might've been mentioned in passing in this fic.
Cheers.
