AN: A month turned into two. My temporary promotion into upper management has been interesting, nothing like learning on the job during a pandemic, heatwave and hazardous air from forest fires coming in from all directions -.-
Hope everyone's staying safe.
Young Loki wandered through the hallways of the Vault of Treasures, hand trailing against the wall as he eyed the relics he walked past. This was Odin's private war trophy collection, a tribute to past battles and curiosities from momentous periods the All Father had lived through. A similar display was open to the public in the Hall of Antiquity, everything within a recreation of an artifact found here in this dusty foyer. The display pieces to the public were masterfully crafted replicas, but no more real than what Loki could conjure with an illusion spell.
Here within the privacy of the palace in a tuckered out room that few were allowed into lay the real treasures of the cosmos. It may not be all glittering and gold, but dragons from stories of old would salivate with envy to lay eyes on the prizes held within this musty chamber.
There were no labels or catalogs, no thought given to how things were stored or displayed. Yet many of these things that lay forgotten in this room still held power that could destroy worlds. Power that remained dormant under heavy layers of protective spells and the watchful eye of Odin.
The young prince was a lover of history. While his brother Thor had a fascination with stories of past battles waged by their father, Loki wanted to learn all the details that led to the need to wage war to begin with. He wanted to hear what led to the creation of these objects of immense power, not merely what they could do.
Loki knew by heart the stories associated with every single item in this room. Some he could recite word for word from the mouth of Odin himself. The All Father was a busy man, a mighty leader who not only ran a kingdom but upheld the peace between realms by the sheer might of his presence. When he did have time for his sons, he spent it educating them and preparing them to one day to take on his role.
Loki would not be the son to inherit the Golden Throne, so understandably, he did not get as much attention from Odin. Not that he was bitter about it or anything, Thor getting more of their father's time simply meant Loki got doted on more by their mother. Not a bad tradeoff in his mind, Frigga was by far more talented in the mystical arts than Odin.
The youngest son of Odin had found himself exiled from Thor and his group of friends that day. Not by sheer mean-spiritedness on their part but more from a personal disinterest in getting himself dirty playing in the mud as they were. Close though he was to his brother, Loki increasingly found himself at odds with the friends his brother associated with.
The increasing distance between the once close brothers was painful for Loki, but he had always known that he and Thor were different. They had different interests, different talents, and different destinies, one for the throne, the other for the shadows. There was a reason why Frigga called them her Sun and Moon. Forever chasing each other, yet never meant to cross paths for more than a moment.
Loki had wandered into the Vault of Treasures after tiring of his lonely vigil in the library. Musty tomes with ancient knowledge could keep his attention for hours, but even he could translate ancient elvish for so long before his vision began to blur.
Lunch had been just the distraction he needed, a quiet meal taken alone before his feet had led him wandering into where he was now. But even the marvels taken from all corners of the universe could hardly hold his attention today.
It was a simple, inescapable truth. Loki was bored.
He yeared to do more than read about the fantastical places outside of the safety of Asgard; he wanted to travel and see with his own eyes what the universe held. Perhaps that was why his feet had carried him here into this room of forgotten relics. Old though they may be, these objects represented faraway places and ideas that Odin had once sought out during his youthful days before ascending to the Golden Throne.
A whisper startled the young lad from his musing, causing the boy to turn. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a shadowy figure, the feminine shape hinting at the person's gender.
Who could that be? No one but the royal family was allowed in this chamber. It wasn't necessarily a written rule, but it was simply understood that only Odin and his kin were allowed to walk amongst his past triumphs and failures. There was a reason why everything was so disorderly and poorly taken care of; the servants never stepped foot here.
Intrigued, Loki followed, intending to scold the servant that had broken taboo. He turned a corner to see no one, confronted instead by the obsidian western wall that remained bleak and blank, the only uncompleted part of the palace. He had never understood why they kept that portion of the wall empty, but then again, not much thought had been put into the Vault of Treasures.
Another whisper sounded in his ear, causing his eyes to dart about from shadow to shadow. In his search for the intruder, Loki found his eyes drawn to the floor, where he noticed a single sheathed blade leaned up against the wall.
It was an odd weapon, definitely not of Asgardian make. The black sheath was made of some unknown aged wood, the protective cover cracked and splintered from lack of care. A weapon with a curved blade judging by the sheath's shape, the sword's handle was wrapped with thin leather strips to form a comfortable grip. Green cloth crisscrossed between animal hide to give it some color, long thin strands trailing off to create decorative tassels that hung off the end of the weapon.
Frowning, the young prince knelt down and squinted at the exotic sword. He had been through this room hundreds of times before, yet he had never noticed this unusual looking blade. Was this left by that mysterious woman who was not supposed to be there?
An intangible whisper hissed in his ears again, startling the prince and causing him to spin about. No one. He muttered the words of power his mother had taught him, the warmth of magic engulfing his body as he called upon the spell that would reveal life. His enhanced eyes swept the room, seeking out the telltale glow that would give away signs of life.
Nothing, not even the tiny pinpricks of small rodents. How odd.
Turning his attention back to the blade, Loki felt something press against his senses. It was not the magical senses his mother had been training him to use; this was something else entirely. Unbidden, he felt an urge to caress the weapon, to feel its weight in his hands as he swung it through the air.
He knew it was a stupid idea, tales of cursed weapons that enthralled its wielders came to mind. There were plenty such items in this room, cursed artifacts that Frigga had woven protective wards over to block their enchanting siren songs.
The blade called to him.
Unable to contain his curiosity, the dark-haired child reached a hand out to touch the hilt of the odd weapon.
"Loki."
The sound of the All Father's booming voice halted his hand, causing the young prince to stand and straighten in the presence of his sire.
The stern look on the one-eyed man's face held a note of concern that Loki was unused to seeing, and he wondered for a moment if he was in trouble.
"What are you doing here, my son?" Odin asked kindly as he walked up to place a hand on Loki's shoulder. "A youngster should be out playing in the sun on such a fine day."
Loki turned to peer at the blade again. "I thought I saw a servant in here earlier. I followed to tell her off, but I could not find her. I have never seen this blade before, was this always here?"
Odin had frozen at Loki's explanation, the color draining from his face.
Loki took a hesitant step away from his father. "Am I in trouble?"
The one-eyed man's features softened. "Of course not Loki. But truly, you can see this blade here?"
Confused, Loki looked between the sword and his father. "Yes. Should I not? What is it? How did you come to have it? Why have I never seen it before?"
The rapid-fire question was typical of the young heir. Loki, though quieter than Thor, was a real chatterbox when he had questions he wanted to be answered. His curious mind was difficult to tame when a mystery was afoot, his mouth seemingly gaining a life of its own.
A long pause filled the room as Odin looked thoughtfully at the sheathed weapon. "This sword is both a gift and a curse. It's presence under my protection a condition for the peace we have now. I am surprised you can see it while so young, but then again, you have always shown more aptitude for observation than your hard-headed brother."
Loki beamed at the rare compliment from his father. "From whom did it come, father? Who made it?"
Odin knelt down on a knee so that he was eye level with his youngest son. "They call themselves Shinigami. Promise me, Loki, should you ever meet someone that carries a weapon such as this that you will treat them with respect. Let battle be the final solution after you have exhausted all other options to resolve any conflict you may have."
"Are these Shinigami truly so fierce, father?"
The foreign word sounded funny as he said them. Loki swore he heard another whisper in his ear when he uttered them. He turned to peer around the room again but saw nothing.
Odin chuckled, taking his youngest's hand and leading him away from the western wall. "Their best warriors would give even one such as myself pause. The army they could raise an equal to Asgard's military in more ways than one. Their greatest warrior once fought me to a standstill. Our battle reduced a realm to primordial dust. I still shudder when I think of the terrible fires he conjured to smite me, I doubt even Surtur's rage could compare to that man's ire."
"No one is greater than you father!" Loki exclaimed with conviction.
Odin smiled indulgently. "Sons always believe their fathers infallible. I assure you, Loki, there are beings that sleep in the universe that are best left unwoken. Beings that eclipse even my considerable power."
Loki looked confused. "But surely they would have been records of such power? Why have I never read about these Shinigami?"
Odin's smile turned grim. "Another lesson for you to take to heart, Loki. History is written by the victors, and the victors are not always the strongest. They were simply more cunning."
Loki pondered upon his father's words as they left the vault, casting a wary eye back at the battered blade in the dark corner of the Vault of Treasures.
A sad, forlorn woman in dark robes stared back at him. Startled, Loki opened his mouth to warn his father of the stranger, but when he blinked, she was gone.
He shivered involuntarily. Their eyes had met for but a moment, yet he could feel the haunting loneliness in her, whoever she was. Perhaps this was one mystery he would leave unsolved.
"Father, will you tell me more of the Shinigami?" Loki asked as they left the Vault of Treasures.
"Of course, my son. Let us get your brother Thor, this is a tale that he too should hear."
Scene Break
Natasha slammed the door to her private quarters shut, practically throwing the feline in her arms onto the bed. She quickly worked the half dozen bolts and latches that secured the entrance to her room, hands a blur as she manipulated the complex locks.
Pulling out a small device she kept on her person, the paranoid woman ran a scan for electronic surveillance. SHIELD may have some of the best security in the world to protect themselves from counterespionage attempts, but nothing stopped them from snooping on their own people. Natasha would know, she had planted thousands of bugs blanketing the Helicarrier.
Nothing.
That was way too suspicious. The spy pulled out an EMP dampener and switched on the electromagnetic emitters to block out any recording devices that had escaped the scanner. Better safe than sorry.
Breathing a tiny sigh of relief, the redhead turned irritably towards her bed.
Yoruichi lay sprawled out on the neatly folded covers, having returned to her human form, completely unbothered by her current state of nudity. Her lazy posture on the bed stirred something primal within Natasha, but she ruthlessly quashed whatever it was.
Despite her annoyance with the woman, Natasha took a moment to admire the beauty before her. Lithe and muscular, the athletic Shinigami had flawless, evenly tanned caramel skin on every inch of exposed flesh. The proportions of her curves were almost unnatural in how generous they were, the smattering of visible tattoos only adding more to her exotic allure.
Yoruichi had the kind of wild feral beauty poets tried to capture with their flowery words, her presence the epicenter of every nude portrait painted. A naked photo of a woman would be considered scandalous; a nude photo of Yoruichi could only be described as art.
And yes, Natasha could confirm that the carpet did match the dark violet drapes.
"What are you doing here, Yoruichi?" she hissed, crossing her arms and glaring at her one-time mentor impatiently. "I'm kind of in the middle of a crisis right now and really don't have the time to entertain!"
The naked woman crossed her toned legs, leaning back comfortably into the pillow, examining the fingernails on her left hand carelessly.
"Yeah, I saw what you were up to with that Loki guy. You do know who you were torturing, right?"
Feline eyes peered up at the spy as one would at a naughty child caught doing something not entirely proper, but was amusing to witness. It was clear that Yoruichi didn't necessarily approve of what she had seen, but the woman wasn't going to rebuke Natasha either.
"That was one of the beloved princes of Asgard you were taking apart," Yoruichi said with a smirk. "Not the crown prince, mind you, the tall blonde one is definitely the favorite. But if daddy finds out what you were doing to Loki, there won't be much left of you but a greasy smear on the ground."
The princess of the Shihouin clan's gaze turned unusually severe as she continued warning her latest protege. "Hell, you couldn't pay me to tangle with that wily old one-eyed bastard. Not without some serious backup."
"I know what I'm doing," retorted the Russian tersely. "You still didn't answer my question. And put on some damn clothes!"
Marching over to the closet where she kept some spare uniforms, Natasha yanked open the storage unit with determination. She wasn't really thinking about how Yoruichi was supposed to wear physical clothes in her spiritual form. She just needed the woman dressed so she'd be less distracting.
A strangled yelp escaped her as a physical duplicate of Yoruichi fell out the closet, almost knocking her to the floor.
The redhead caught the body reflexively, arms automatically slipping underneath the faux body's armpits. Momentarily flummoxed, Natasha could only open and close her mouth wordlessly as she gaped at the artificial cadaver. Finally, her outrage bubbled up to form words.
"You left your damn Gigai in my room?!"
"I figured it was the most secure place on the ship," Yoruichi responded flippantly, once more engrossed with examining her nails. "It was either that or Fury's room. I didn't think he'd be able to handle finding all this in his closet."
She punctuated her last statement by cupping her bare breasts and jiggling them with a suggestive wag of her eyebrows. The conspiring grin on the playful Shinigami's face didn't totally eliminate the possibility of that exact situation playing out in the future.
"Get in your damn Gigai!" Natasha ordered crossly, dragging the body out of the storage unit and tossing it unceremoniously on the ground.
"Hey, watch the goods!" complained Yoruichi with a pout. "Those things are expensive!"
"Tell me you disabled any bugs in my room when you came in," Natasha muttered, hand rubbing her aching temple.
The dark-skinned woman shot her an insulted look. "Who do you think you're talking to? By the way, I found five in your bathroom alone. Only two out here. You got a bunch of peeping toms working in surveillance."
That explained at least why nothing had popped up on her scanners. Natasha wasn't shy about her body; most of the time, she left the monitors running even when she was using the toilet or shower. She had the skills to find and erase anything she really didn't want out there, but it was far more tiresome having to clear out her room every time she returned from a mission.
A few lonely desk jockeys were probably getting their rocks off every time she bathed or relived herself, but they knew better than to let it leave the confines of security. The Black Widow could make any man stupid enough to let that happen disappear.
At least the Gigai form of her one-time teacher had clothes on. In fact, she was dressed up in a basic SHIELD security uniform, the ID badge hanging off her breast pocket looking awfully authentic. Just what had the woman been up to?
Watching the petulant Shinigami reluctantly climbed into her temporary mortal shell, the Russian pinched the bridge of her nose and inhaled deeply, counting backward from ten. She repeated the mental calming exercise in the half dozen language she was fluent in.
Yoruichi was a complication she did not need right now. While doubtless skilled and experienced, the quirky woman was more likely to add to the chaos than provide actual assistance. She'd do it just because she thought it was funny.
"What are you doing here?" Natasha repeated monotonously as Yoruichi sat up and blinked a few times.
The dark-skinned Shinigami got up and began going through a test for a full range of motion before responding. "Got bored, decided to look into what SHIELD was up to since they had you poking your nose into Ichigo's business. Boy, the conspiracy really runs deep with you guys, huh?"
"Now's not a great time to have you digging around Yoruichi," Natasha responded through clenched teeth. "We're looking at an imminent invasion of an otherworldly army if I don't figure out what Loki's up to. If you're not here to help, then do me a favor and get the hell out!"
"Did he tell you what world this army is coming from?" Yoruichi asked, squinting at the taller woman, arms pulled back in a painful-looking stretch. "I can't directly intervene per our standing orders not to interfere with mortal matters, but I might be able to pass on useful intel."
Natasha's mind paused for a full second, the unexpected response catching her off guard. She could accept that another realm existed just for the souls of the dead; why was it so surprising that they had contact with other material realms?
She opened her mouth to interrogate her sensei further but was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Her pistol was in her hand and pointed towards the entrance in an instant. Nobody ever knocked on her door, not even Clint.
The single knock was followed by a short series of taps after a lull, the pattern quickly trotted out, almost like morse code. Yoruichi placed a hand on the barrel of the loaded gun to forcibly lower it. Marching up to the entrance, she raised her hand in a fist and tapped out some sort of counter-response.
Another tune of knocks checked back in, and it must have passed muster for the spiritual kunoichi. Yoruichi opened the doorway, quickly working through the latches to let in an eccentric sandy-haired fellow in a scientist's coat.
The disheveled man had a tired look about him, but the glint in his eyes hinted at a keen intellect despite his shabby outlook. He walked without trouble but carried a long thin cane in one hand, the walking aid instantly drawing Natasha's attention when he entered the room. The fashionable stick itched at her spiritual senses, not so dissimilar to the sword that hung in Ichigo's living room.
A sword cane, perhaps? Was this man walking around with his Zanpakuto in full view? Natasha had only heard of the Shinigami's unique weapon from Yoruichi. The woman had never brought out her partner during their lessons.
Ichigo had never bothered doing any physical training with her, only showing her pointers on meditation and how to observe the world around her with her new senses. Basically, the human covered the "boring shit" that Yoruichi didn't have the patience to teach during their training.
"Kisuke, Natasha," introduced Yoruichi casually as she closed the door and relocked it with a little effort. "Natasha, Kisuke. Don't accept anything he tries to offer you if you know what's good for you."
The lazy looking blonde examined her with some interest but did not try to extend his hand out for a shake. "So, you're the Natasha Romanoff I've heard so much about? Last protégé of the Goddess of the Flashstep. I guess we can expect great things from you."
"Don't give her a big head," scoffed Yoruichi as she joined them in the spacious room. "She's got some talent but hardly anything worth writing home about."
"Well, to be fair, not everyone can be Ichigo," chided Kisuke with a smirk. "And you're a bit biased, aren't you? Seeing as the two of you are boinking like rabbits."
Yoruichi stuck her tongue out childishly at her friend. "I stand by my statement."
"How many of you are running around on this ship right now?" demanded Natasha in exasperation. "If you're sending so many damn people to investigate, how about actually doing something about it?!"
Kisuke shook his head with an apologetic grin. "Unfortunately, our hands are tied in this matter, Ms. Romanoff. The Shinigami signed treaties eons ago to keep the peace between realms. Our intervention in the world of the living necessitates very specific requirements. The rules are ironclad, I'm afraid."
"Trust me on this, Natasha," said Yoruichi, deadly serious for once. "Even if we popped in to save you from this army, the war it would kick off would be far worse than anything these invaders could do to Earth."
The former KGB agent scowled but did not press the matter. She had enough headaches with the living without mixing the dead in this business. They could barely keep a lid on this Loki problem; the last thing they needed was for a bunch of invisible sword-swinging Shinigami running around adding to the complication.
"How much do you actually know about the Tesseract that Loki stole?" asked Kisuke, his lighthearted expression turning grave.
Natasha frowned, scrounging her memory for any details she had managed to glean on the top-secret SHIELD project. Even with the entire world in danger, Nick had barely given her enough details to understand just how bad the situation was.
"It's some sort of anomalous energy source that was unearthed during World War II," she recited. "Its origins are unknown, but the power output is unlike anything recorded on Earth. Theoretically, if harnessed correctly, it could be a source of unlimited energy."
"Quite the power source for unlimited firepower too," Yoruichi observed, connecting the dots instantly with narrowed eyes.
Natasha didn't bat an eyelash at her teacher's astute deduction. "Above my paygrade. Even if I knew I wouldn't be able to comment on it."
A purple eyebrow quivered at the canned response.
Kisuke snickered. "No need to be coy, I've already unearthed some of the schematics that have been created for theoretical weapons that could be constructed within hours on this Helicarrier alone. Quite impressive, really."
The redhead felt her jaw muscle twitch as she fought the urge to grind her teeth hard enough to crack a molar. She had suspected as much without having been directly told so, but hearing the confirmation only made the grim reality of their situation hit home.
"Do you know what Loki plans to do with it?" she asked slowly. "I hate to say it, but I don't think I was going to crack the bastard with the time constraints I was working with. Pretty boy is a lot tougher than he looks."
Yoruichi crossed her arms and shot a curious look at her longtime friend as well. "No luck from my end. I was going to try to talk to Loki, but Natasha here was already getting all kinky with the alien tentacles when I got there. I wouldn't be able to touch a hair on his body either, not without breaking the treaty."
Kisuke ran a hand absentmindedly through his bedraggled hair. "There are several things he could be planning with such a powerful artifact. To understand just how much trouble you're in, you have to understand the nature of the Tesseract."
The Shinigami scientist began pacing in front of the women. "I have reason to believe that what you have unearthed may actually be an infinity stone."
Yoruichi's jaw dropped. "You're shitting me?!"
Natasha frowned, not comprehending the importance, but knowing something ominous when she heard it. "Is this a Soul Society thing?"
The female Shinigami shook her head weakly, expression dazed. "No, this is an entire fabric of reality kind of thing."
"There are many explanations and theories on how the multiverse came into existence. No one's ever been able to really prove anything. The one thing that everyone agrees on is all dimensions are grounded by a physical manifestation of primordial elements that hold the fabric of our universe together. These are the six infinity stones that control the basic foundation of all existence," Kisuke lectured.
"Space, Reality, Power, Mind, Time and Soul," recited Yoruichi reverently, a faraway look in her eyes as she leaned against the storage locker. "Each of the stones gives you absolute control over those exact things they are named after. Assuming it doesn't disintegrate you on contact."
"So you're telling me there are these six rocks that let you what, bend reality? Time travel?" Natasha asked skeptically.
"The infinity stones have various states of existence, mostly beyond the ability of mortals to even comprehend with their senses," responded Kisuke. "Generally, they take the shape of stones when in contact with a will strong enough to contain it in a corporeal form."
"So, do you guys have the soul stone?" Natasha asked curiously.
It made sense to her. They were the ones who guided souls over to the next realm. Who else would be the guardian to such an important artifact?
The two Shinigami shared an unhappy look.
"It's complicated," Yoruichi finally said with a scowl. "We don't necessarily have it, no. But we don't have to be worried about it. It can't be the Soul Stone; we would know if it was. Which one is the Tesseract?"
The question was directed at the blonde male in the room.
"Reports indicated that Loki appeared from a portal when the Tesseract went haywire three days ago," murmured Kisuke knowingly.
"Space then," Yoruichi agreed, breathing a sigh of relief. "Looks like you're in luck. That's probably the easiest one to deal with, to be honest. Each of the stone contains almost unlimited energy due to their nature being tied to existence. Luckily the Space Stone only allows you to teleport; you don't have to worry about someone punching back in time and killing you before you were born. Or turning your arms into spaghetti noodles with a glance."
The conversation triggered a troubling thought in Natasha. "How big are these stones?"
Yoruichi turned to look at Kisuke inquisitively.
The man shrugged. "I've never seen one before. It's been almost a generation since any Shinigami has encountered one. Yamamoto-dono was said to have encountered the Power Stone in his youth wandering the cosmos. He described it as a gem of unusual size and luster, but easily fitting within the palm of your hand."
"Loki turned some of our agents against us with a touch of his scepter," Natasha said with a frown. "Is it possible that he's using the Mind Stone?"
Kisuke scratched his stubbled chin thoughtfully. "There could be other explanations for mind control. There is an infinitesimally small possibility that we have another infinity stone floating about here. These aren't exactly things you just find lying around. In fact –"
The man abruptly stopped speaking, his eyes suddenly turning upwards as if he recalled something. "You said Loki touched your people with the scepter, and they turned?"
Natasha nodded. "That's what Fury reported."
"The same scepter they gave to Dr. Banner to analyze?"
Natasha's eyes widened as she realized what his question was implying.
Raising her hand, she pressed against the hard node underneath her ear to activate the comm system that allowed her to speak directly to Fury.
"Loki means to unleash the Hulk," she reported urgently. "Keep Banner in the lab, and get Thor in there! I'm on my way."
"Stay here. Do not go anywhere," the spy hissed, rushing to the door without a glance back.
She missed the impish look shared by the two Shinigami in her haste to leave the room.
Scene Break
Fury's boots echoed imperiously as he barged into the laboratory, acidic scowl displaying his full displeasure.
"What do you think you're doing, Mr. Stark?" he barked, nostrils flaring dangerously as he confronted the snarky inventor.
Tony turned away from the screen he had been showing Banner, eyes frosty. "Kind of been wondering the same thing about you, Nick."
"You're supposed to be locating the Tesseract," the Director growled, getting into the irritating man's face. "I could have your ass thrown in the brig for this!"
"We are looking," Banner bit out sharply, expression unusually belligerent for the mild-mannered intellectual. "The model's locked, and we're sweeping for the signature now. When we get a hit, we'll have a location within half a mile."
Tony gave a steely smile, eyes not matching the jovial expression. "And you'll get your little cube back, no muss, no fuss. What's Phase Two?"
The automatic door parted with a drawn-out hiss, gaining the attention of the arguing men. A noticeably unhappy Steve Rogers marched in, hauling with him a futuristic weapon that was definitely not of conventional manufacture.
"Phase Two is SHIELD using the Cube to make weapons," the super-soldier declared with a dark glower marring his naturally handsome features. "The same kinds of weapons used by Hyrda during World War II."
Tossing the weapon carelessly on the main lab table with a resounding clank, he turned to acknowledge the astonished look on the billionaire's face. "Sorry, your computer was moving a little slow for me."
Fury shook his head, turning to address the war hero. "Rogers, we gathered everything related to the Tesseract. That does not mean that we're-"
"I'm sorry, Nick," Tony interrupted cheerfully, turning his screen around for the other men in the lab to see. "What were you lying?"
Displayed on the holographic projection was the schematic for an advanced missile, the power source clearly linked to the Tesseract. Most of the details on the plans were a blur of engineering jargon, but the highlighted line marking the explosive yield comparative to 100 million tons TNT, twice as large as anything ever set off, was hard to miss.
Steve scoffed, shaking his head in resignation. "I was wrong, Director. The world hasn't changed a bit."
The doorway slid open again, this time admitting Natasha shadowed by a looming Thor.
"Did you know about this?" Bruce asked the woman curtly, indicating the bright display with the missile schematic and the theoretical yield it had when powered by the Tesseract.
"Not my place to know things, Dr. Banner," Natasha replied robotically after a brief unflinching glance at the screen. "We need to remove you from this current situation. We have reason to believe that Loki is directly targeting you."
The physicist choked out a laugh of disbelief, expression haggard from a combination of stress and lack of rest. "Is that why Thor's here? To escort me out in case I protest? I'll remind you that I was in Calcutta. I was pretty damn well removed before you dragged me into this mess!"
Natasha raised a hand up placatingly. "Loki is trying to manipulate you, Bruce."
"And what exactly are you trying to do, Natasha?" he asked fiercely, eyes flashing an alarming shade of olive. "You asking me nicely? Pretty please, with a cherry on top?"
Nobody in the room missed it, nor did they miss the way his voice dropped an octave lower in his anger. A tense silence fell, the previous unease in the room escalating from unbearable to deathly.
"You didn't come here because I batted my eyelashes at you," Natasha said softly. "Please, Bruce, be reasonable."
"I'm being pretty damn reasonable given how I can show my displeasure," spat Bruce, the veins on his neck standing out visibly. "I'd like to know why SHIELD is using the Tesseract to build weapons of mass destruction. I'm not helping you locate the Tesseract just to find out I've been working for the bad guys! Trust me, you wouldn't want to see my reaction."
"You want a reason?" asked Fury with a scowl. "You're looking at it."
Thor gaped down in bewilderment at the gloved hand pointed in his direction. "Me?"
Fury turned his ferocious single-eyed glare to the puzzled Norse godling. "Yes, you. Last year Earth had a visitor from another planet who had a grudge match that leveled a small town. We learned that not only are we not alone, but we are hopelessly, hilariously, out-gunned."
"My people want nothing but peace with your planet!" Thor protested defensively. "We would never march our armies against your people!"
"But you're not the only yuppies out there, are you?" retorted Fury with a withering glare. "And, you're not the only threat. The world's filling up with people who can't be matched. People that can't be controlled. Individuals who have powers that could give a conventional army pause."
"Like how you controlled the cube?" interjected Steve with a matching scowl. "How does that make us any better?!"
"Don't blame this on me!" snapped Thor heatedly, bringing the attention back to him. "Your work with the Tesseract is what drew Loki and his allies to it! It is the signal to all the realms that the Earth is ready for a higher form of war."
"A higher form?" asked Steve in disbelief. "What the hell does that even mean?"
"You forced our hand!" countered Fury, unrelenting. "We had to come up with some-"
"Right, so you went with nuclear deterrent!" interrupted Stark with a dramatic eye roll. "Because that always calms everything right down."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Fury replied sarcastically, turning is ire to the energy mogul. "Remind me again how you made your fortune, Stark?"
Steve laughed derisively. "I'm sure if he still made weapons, Stark would be neck-deep-"
Tony reddened with anger. "Ok, when the hell did this become about me? Rogers, if you got something you want to say, you be a man and-"
Thor chuckled cynically, his expression amused. "I thought you humans were more evolved than this. Perhaps my brother is right about you, primitives. You can hardly be trusted to rule yourselves."
The argument broke out into a free for all as the unspoken anger overtook the room. In the back of her mind, Natasha realized that something was happening. Even as she tried to fight through the haze of red, she found herself directing harsh words at the mythological Norse deity beside her. Fingers twitched for her holstered weapon as the angry arguments around her turned into a droning fog of white noise.
Scene Break
Clint inhaled deeply through his nose, careful to fill his lungs to capacity slowly. The gentle meditative practice was something he had done thousands of times before, the simple motion leaving his fingertips tingling as he purged CO2 from his blood. It was his own little pre-mission ritual, a homeostasis regulating habit that soothed his nerves right before he jumped into action.
The men around him were doing one last gear check, their practiced hands tightening straps, closing pouches, and examining their weapons for flaws. They were all pros, handpicked by Clint to be put to the scepter's wicked touch. They had all been good men, he included. But it didn't matter; ironically, the Mind Stone ruled all hearts it touched.
"Transport six-six-oh-five, please relay your form code," demanded a bored voice from air traffic control on the Helicarrier. "Got you on the computer but not on the data log. What is your haul? Over."
"Small arms and ammunition," responded the mind altered pilot. "It was a last-minute rush order that didn't make it on board since you guys hauled ass out of port on such short notice. Over."
There was a brief delay where Clint felt his body stiffen with tension. This was it, make or break. If SHIELD even had a small suspicion they weren't an authorized flight, they'd be shot down in a heartbeat. Operational security always came first. Fury would sign the condolence letters to their families during his lunch break if it turned out to be a mistake.
"Six-six-oh-five, you're cleared to land on pad three. Over."
His breathing started again as the pilot aimed the commandeered Quinjet towards landing pad three. Clint took a step towards the back ramp as the entryway lowered, the roar of the passing wind deafening as he eyeballed the airship they were about to invade.
He'd compared hundreds of scenarios with Natasha, each of them coming up with increasingly more ridiculous ways as to how they would single-handedly take down the Helicarrier. The over the top one-ups-manship had been an exercise in imagination. They'd co-written a lengthy report to help security figure out how an infiltrator might sabotage their operations afterward. Clint had barely beaten out Natasha for the most ridiculous method involving the plumbing and laughing gas.
To the credit of security, many of the weak points they had pointed out had been shored up since Clint had last been on board.
Yet, for all their precautions, there was one area of weakness they had never been able to truly overcome. The four stabilizing engines were all that kept the Helicarrier in the air. Hypothetically it could operate off of three if needed, but it was a glaring weak point that no one had been able to find a practical solution to.
Clint notched an arrow back, placing the end of the projectile on the left side of his bow, trying to judge how the crosswind would affect his shot. It was a huge target, but shooting an arrow out of plane traversing dozens of miles a minute at an airship ten thousand feet up in the air was trickier than it sounded.
Unfortunately for SHIELD, Clint was one of the best at what he did. It's why they'd recruited him.
It sounded crazy when he tried to explain it to people, but he often felt his targets when aiming down the bow. It wasn't just hundreds of hours of practice giving him the experience to judge how an arrow would fly. There was a vital force of will to make an arrow connect in a particularly tricky shot, an invisible link temporarily forming between the archer and the target.
Some might call it zen or give it some other mystical term to describe the clarity he felt before taking a shot. But Clint privately thought it might be something more, something he had been born with that others didn't have. He'd never admitted that thought to anyone, not even his beloved wife.
And now those very deadly skills were turned against his former allies.
Hawkeye waited for half a breath longer than necessary before letting the explosive tipped arrow loose. He watched with satisfaction as the muscle-powered missile curved through the air gracefully. Its arc was almost unnatural in its flight, the laws of physics momentarily mocked by sheer skill.
"Time to earn our pay, boys," he announced when he confirmed the explosive charges on the arrow attached to engine three was live and ready to detonate. "Land this bird. We got a job to do."
Scene Break
"Put on the suit!" Steve shouted as he got up into Tony's face. "Let's go a few rounds. We'll see how much is behind all that big talk Stark. I bet you're not half the man your father was."
An ugly look crossed Tony's face, and he seemed ready to throw down with the super-soldier, suit or not.
"You people are so petty," laughed Thor mockingly. "And tiny."
Bruce shook his head, crossing his arms. "Yeah, this is a team. Terrific picks, Fury. Liars, killers, and freaks. World's in great hands!"
The Director turned his scowl towards the Russian agent. "Agent Romanoff, would you escort Dr. Banner back to his-"
"Escort me where?" roared Banner, taking a step back, hands forming balled fists by his side. "You rented out my room! Remember?!"
Fury groaned, an expression of frustration crossing his face. "The cell was just a precaution. In case -"
"In case you needed to kill me?" laughed Dr. Banner darkly. "But you can't you know. I tried, believe me, I really did."
An uncomfortable quiet fell over the group at his admission. Everyone had turned to stare at the physicist, the self-disparaging look so often on his face twisting painfully into an expression tinged with sorrow and regret.
"I got real low," he admitted softly, unable to meet anyone's eyes. "I didn't see an end, so I decided to put a bullet in my mouth to solve the world's ugliest problem. It didn't work. The other guy just chewed on it then spat it right back out into my hands."
Bruce laughed again, the sound morbid in the awkward silence. "The only thing you can do with that level of crippling depression and an inability to commit suicide is move on. I focused on helping other people. I was good until you dragged me back into this freak show and put everyone at risk."
He took another unconscious step back, hand drifting behind him to grasp the scepter.
The nuclear physicist turned to bare his teeth at Natasha. "You wanna know my secret, Agent Romanoff? You want to know how I stay calm?"
Out of the corner of her eyes, Natasha saw Nick's hand glide down towards his holster, fingertip on the butt of his pistol. She was tempted to do the same but knew it would do little good if things went south with Dr. Banner.
"Bruce," she implored softly, hoping the use of his first name would get through to him. "Please put down the scepter."
The words seem to knock him out of whatever emotional funk he was in. He looked down at the scepter in his hand in surprise, the tip glowing a soft blue, the mesmerizing light drawing the attention of everyone in the room.
An urgent double beep from the monitor running the searching algorithm for the Tesseract shook everyone out their stupor, their minds finally focusing back on the problem. Bruce put the ornate staff down, stepping over to examine the data.
"Sorry kids," he murmured distractedly. "You don't get to see uncle Banner's party trick after all."
"Do we have a target?" demanded Fury, arguments put on hold now that results were in.
"We've located the Tesseract?" asked Thor eagerly, anger forgotten. "We must leave for it at once! It is key to whatever my brother schemes."
"I can get there faster," offered Tony as he stared intently down at the holographic display on his wrist. "What are the coordinates?"
"The Tesseract belongs to Asgard," refuted Thor with a shake of his head. "No human is a match for it!"
"Look," groaned Steve. "We can't be running off half-cocked. We need a plan of action!"
"I'm going!" growled Tony, shouldering his way past Thor for the exit. "Banner, send me those damn coordinates."
Steve grabbed the departing billionaire by the shoulder, halting his purposeful steps. "You're not going alone!"
The engineer swatted the hand aside with an intense scowl. "You gonna stop me?"
Steve matched his stormy expression with an uncharacteristic snarl of his own. "Put on the suit, Stark. Let's find out!"
"I'm not afraid to hit an old man."
"Put. On. The. Suit."
"Ladies, you're both pretty," Natasha said as she got between the two men, placing a hand on each of their puffed out chests to push them non too gently apart. "No need to go that far. Why don't we calm down, wait and see what-"
"Oh-my-god," whispered Banner as he finally made sense of the data he was seeing.
An explosion tore through the flying aircraft carrier, sending everyone in the room to the ground as the airship listed. The lights dimmed briefly; showers of sparks emitted from electronics as the surge of power kicked in from the backup generators firing up all at once.
A secondary explosion tore through the room, a hole opening up on the floor, swallowing both Bruce and Natasha before the others could even think of reaching out to them.
Tony and Steve found themselves by the entrance, the two men helping each other to their feet and sharing wide-eyed looks, conflict forgotten.
"Put on the suit," urged Steve frantically, getting a nod of mute agreement from Tony before they raced out of the laboratory.
Fury sat up with a groan, clutching at the side of his head, his gloved hand coming away coated in blood.
"Hill," he shouted into his earpiece, ignoring the superficial wound. "What the hell is going on?"
Her response crackled unsteadily through to all their communication devices. "We have a fire in engine three! The line looks mostly intact, but it's impossible to get out there to fix it while we're still airborne. We can keep this bird up with one engine down, but if we lose another one, this thing turns into history's most expensive brick."
Fury turned to look at Thor, who had stumbled back up, gesturing at the hole Dr. Banner and Agent Romanoff had fallen through. "See if they're alive."
The Norse godling did not waste breath in responding, leaping down the hole after them.
"Rogers, Stark, did you get all that?"
"We're on it," answered Tony frantically. "Rogers, this is going to be a two-man job, I'm going to need you to be my second pair of hands and eyes."
"Tell me where you need me," responded Steve gamely.
Fury tapped his communications earpiece, quickly switching to a private channel he and only one other person had access to.
"Coulson, initiate defensive lockdown in the contingent center. Then get your ass over to the armory. Bring out the big guns!"
"Which one?" asked Coulson with his usual detached calm.
"All of them!"
Hearing the acknowledgment from his right-hand man, Fury tapped again to swap out to another private channel.
"Romanoff! Talk to me."
Scene Break
Natasha returned from unconsciousness to muffled shouting in her ear. Her ribs screamed in protest as she drew in a shallow breath, most likely a light hairline fracture based on her experience. The spy sat up carefully to avoid agitating her injuries further but found her lower half immobile.
The crushing weight of large metal pipes lodged across her legs became apparent when she tried giving the wreckage an experimental shove. She still had some feeling in her feet, the slow, painful pulse of blood pushing through, indicating that nothing was broken yet.
It was a miracle that she hadn't been crushed.
"Romanoff!"
A groan sounded to her right, and she had to squint in the dim lighting to spot a moaning Dr. Banner. He was also trapped by the same wreckage that had her pinned down. From what little she could make out, he was far worse off, the rubble leaving only his head and part of his shoulder and left arm exposed.
An average human would be dead with that much weight on them, not tossing and turning fitfully. Banner was not a normal human.
Reaching a hand up to her subdermal communication unit, Natasha tapped on transmission, coughing wetly before speaking. Even that simple act dug the invisible knife between her ribs deeper, causing her vision to briefly turn white.
"We're ok," she managed to gasp out after spitting out dark red phlegm. "I'm stuck under some debris, so is Banner. We're going to need help getting out. Send someone down to-"
Bruce's groaning became deeper, far lower than the range of what human vocal cords could produce.
Natasha turned slowly, eyes widening as she bore witness to the swelling form of the physicist.
"Oh fuck me sideways," she whispered as his clothes tore under his expanding bulk, exposed skin taking on a sickly green tinge.
A loud cough followed by an animalistic roar raised the tiny hairs on her neck. The frightening howl of naked feral rage echoed in the broken room, twisting and amplifying to painful levels.
The spy pushed fruitlessly against the rubble, finding no leverage from her position on her back. Swearing loudly in Russian as more growling filled the broken maintenance room, Natasha summoned her reiatsu armor, pushing with all her enhanced might.
It didn't budge.
She was in deep trouble—time to try talking her way out of this.
"Bruce? We're gonna be ok. Right?"
Her question was answered with another groan, the visible green flesh rippling like an expanding balloon.
"I swear, on my life, you will walk away and never –"
"Your life?"
The words died in her mouth.
In many ways, the unnatural bass of the Hulk's voice reminded her of the Hollows that had attacked Ichigo that night he had walked her back to her apartment. There was something utterly inhuman about the way the words were spoken despite her mind comprehending the speech.
The remains of his garments disintegrated as his form swelled.
Bruce was a relatively average-sized man; even amid his transformation, he hadn't looked much larger than an overgrown bodybuilder. As he finally relinquished whatever control he had left, his form took on gargantuan proportions.
The form was obviously humanoid despite the grotesque overproportions of the muscles stretching like tight cords across the body. Hands the size of snow shovels clenched to form small boulders that passed for fists. The visible tree trunk like forearm of the beast was easily thicker than Natasha's entire waist.
Even lying face-down trapped beneath the twisted ceiling crossbeams, the Hulk was a menacing behemoth to behold.
"Bruce," Natasha whispered as she stared into the angry eyes of the Hulk, trying one last time to reach him. "Please."
"NO BRUCE!" howled the beast, sounding nothing like the articulate creature she had met in his mindscape. "HULK SMASH!"
The monstrosity palmed the floor and pushed up, the several ton weight on it's back posing no more difficulty to it than a blanket on a man rising out of bed.
The wreckage gave way with a groan. It must have been connected to the same piping holding her foot down because, for just a precious second, the heavy tubes shifted, loosening their death grip on her leg.
Natasha reacted instantly, dismissing the shadow blade she had summoned in preparation to cut off her own leg to free herself. Ignoring the pins and needles shocking her lower half as circulation finally kicked back in, Natasha sprung to her feet and coiled her legs underneath her. Pushing with the aid of her shadow, she leaped straight up, breaking every previous human record for high jump in a single motion.
Her armor enhanced her physical prowess, turning her explosive push into a superhuman leap that cleared the Hulk's towering eight-foot height with ease.
Despite blinding charging towards her, the brute had retained enough situational awareness to swipe a backhand at her airborne form even as he barreled past uncontrollably.
The brief contact was gentle compared to the sort of damage the beast could do, but even the simple motion of brushing against her leg had struck with the force of a moving vehicle. Natasha was sent careening head over heels through the maintenance room. The world spun rapidly past as she desperately twisted her body, hoping to bleed the momentum with enough centrifugal force.
Her flight was interrupted by a wall, her armored bulk slamming into the steel harshly. The metal gave way to a human-sized dent, the wind completely knocked out of her despite her armor.
From within the protective embrace of her suit, Natasha could see the cracks on her shadow's faceguard. She wheezed painfully, her rib fractures no doubt getting worse from that jostling.
Forcing herself to her feet, she willed her reiatsu to the surface, allowing her spiritual energy to mend whatever damage had been done to the suit. Strength returned to her limbs, and the pain dulled to a distracting throb as power surged through her body. She found herself face to face across from the Hulk, the enormous beast studying her with shrewd eyes full of low cunning.
Natasha briefly scanned her surroundings, looking for any way past the creature. Just as the Hulk had recognized, there was nowhere for her to escape. The only way out was through the Hulk.
Resisting the urge to spit out the coppery taste of blood in her mouth, she concentrated again. Her will manifested in the form of midnight blades that reached her knees, the dreadful weapons seamlessly replacing her hands.
The Hulk smashed it's balled fists together, the simple motion generating a concussive force that almost blew Natasha off her feet.
With another deep-throated roar, the beast charged, a green battering ram intent on turning her into a red paste.
This was not going to end well.
AN: I'd like to address comments that have been brought up repeatedly about power scaling and complaints that Natasha can take on the likes of Thor and Loki being too overpowered. I'd like to point out that she really hasn't directly taken them on.
Thor, despite his posturing, hadn't really been trying to hurt them in his little tussle in the forest. Yes, he was getting a little bit more serious with Tony near the end, but mainly because he had shown he could take it. The fact that he was unable to fully resist Natasha's shadow bind is due to a combination of exhaustion, not really trying to hurt them, and not resisting in the right way. And as Natasha had realized, even just using brute force, he would have overpowered her shadow bind and squished her if he really wanted to.
Loki was playing the helpless prisoner, and despite being physically weaker than Thor, has not really shown what he is capable of. His chosen weapons are daggers, weapons that require finesse, not brute force. Plus, he did not throw any of his magic around besides trying to Jedi mind trick her.
The few times Natasha briefly displayed powers that were on par with the likes of Thor and Hulk was in her full spiritual form. In her human meat suit, she is only able to call upon a fraction of her powers. When Natasha was training with Yoruichi, she was in her spiritual form. When she attacked Orihime, she had also been in her soul form. She has no means to exit her mortal shell herself.
Hopefully, that at least clears some things up for folks reading. I appreciate hearing back from those who leave comments, whatever your opinions of my writing may be. Take care, everyone!