Director Nicholas Fury looked out into the night sky view of his office. The clouds below the helicarrier seeming as plains of freshly fallen snow.

A mug of coffee in his hand, having long since lost its heat as he worked tirelessly, that night. He had only finished reading a rather alarming report from a field agent and was taking a moment to himself to gather his rapidly fraying thoughts.

Fury loved his job.

He wouldn't have done it as a career if he didn't. The head of SHIELD got the satisfaction of helping those in need and seeing the world move beyond its most turbulent times. The benefits and pay only served as icing on the cake.

There were times when the days wore on and the going got tough but he had the benefit of knowing that all of this would pay off in the end.

But of course, it was times like these that he hated what he did. Insurgencies and rebels, he could handle like it was any old Tuesday. Politics, Fury would rather deal with anything else before having to deal with some bureaucrat with ruffled feathers but deal with them he did.

Today, well…Tony Stark just had to up and let his pride and love get in the way of rationality.

He supposed that thinking that for a civilian was asking too much. Sure, the tech-savant was more than capable of defending himself with the Iron Man suit, had fought against an alien invasion and had unfortunately spent time as a prisoner of terrorist.

But calling out the leader of Ten Rings as he did was a recipe for disaster.

Then again, his tenure as one of their prisoners had probably struck a nerve with the man.

Psyche profiles done on the Mandarin made it known that the man was an egomaniac and had the ambition and pride to match Stark. He wouldn't hijack the airwaves if he wasn't. The Mandarin wanted his work to be seen. He wanted what he did to be known throughout the world and while he hid in the shadows he was untouchable.

And he flaunted it in the world's faces.

Stark could have had that same immunity. To work in the dark and conduct his own investigations into the Mandarin. It may not have been an Avenger-level threat and taking matters into his own hands would have been stepping on more than a few politicians toes, but Fury could have shielded him from the worst of it.

And since he would have been doing SHIELD and the rest of the world a favor with rooting out the biggest terrorist threat since Al-Qaeda.

To publicly challenge the Mandarin, negated whatever Fury could have offered and whatever advantages, excluding his suits, that Stark could have had.

Fury had, unfortunately, correctly predicted that within twenty four hours, that Stark would be attacked.

As much as Fury had anticipated the attack, what he hadn't anticipated was the arrival of a certain being that had given SHIELD and the world the slip back in the aftermath of New York.

It gave him a migraine just thinking about him.

It was just a sighting before the agent that had been assigned had to vacate the area when a violent storm began to roll into the area. No doubt as a result of the being's appearance. The SHIELD director was on the verge of wiping his hands clean of the situation because the Avenger could take care of himself and unless Stark asked for help, which knowing Stark he wouldn't do unless no option was available to him.

But the moment the being appeared, Fury's full attention was glued to Malibu. He had ordered whatever satellites in orbit to center on the situation. Though all the footage they got from them was a blurred and static filled image if they had attempted to get a detailed footage. The best from satellite imagery was just that. Imagery. A series of thousands of pictures that had to be put together like some sort of retro film reel.

However, what the agent did see was something that could only be described as a story of legend, a climactic encounter between two opposing forces. He would've thought the agent to be high or something but Fury and the rest of the world had seen what the being was capable of in New York.

Another being, from what the agent could make out from his vantage point, a woman with a head of pale hair and armor that seemed to shift like the other being.

And then they clashed. Unlike with Thor, neither being held any reservations in holding back.

However, it wasn't the overt display of sheer power and force of nature that was seen in New York where it affected near the entire city and stalled an alien invasion.

This was focused, precise; a duel between two beings that stood on equal terms. Something that was similar to the initial encounter between the being and the Avengers back in the Ardennes but wholly more deadly.

Thor had said that the being was holding back after all. It wouldn't be a stretch to think that the two dueling beings would do the same. Fury's mind rationalizing that the two beings wouldn't simply destroy a coastline simply to kill each other.

But he's been wrong before.

From the report, the fight had only lasted a couple minutes and had ended in a what could only be described as a draw and martyrdom with both beings taking each other out simultaneously. The one being they had been looking for, tossed like a ragdoll over the cliff edge while the woman was hit by a bolt of lightning comparable to Thor's own powers.

The storm had instantly dissipated at that as Stark moved to prevent the being that had turned him into an ice cube from entering the ocean.

From there, Stark had boarded a personal Quinjet, took advantage of the two beings' state, restrained and captured them before fleeing East with Pepper and the woman that was identified as Maya Hanson, a bio-chemist scientist working at AIM.

Apparently the two beings were still alive considering that Stark had the foresight to do that. Moments later, Stark's UI contacted him directly to inform him of all that he had just seen and that they were headed to the safety of Avenger Tower.

Unfortunately, Fury had to wait until they arrived in New York.

And he didn't exactly have a lot of options in dealing with beings that could match Thor.

The Avengers weren't available. Tony was on his own at the moment. Rogers and Romanoff were off on an assignment and while Barton was available, being in DC here with him, putting him on an assignment against beings like that was just plain stupid.

And then there was the added variable that if there were two, there could be a third. And if there was a third then there could be a fourth. What if there were many more, and all these beings held grudges against each other and decided now would be a good time to duke it out? On the streets of New York no less?

From the Captain's report some months ago, the Asgardians had turned to Earth into a sort of getaway and were under the protection of one of these beings.

What if there was some sort of agreement between all these people and even more started started showing up for a scrap? Would Thor show up as well? Who would he help? The Avengers? Or these other beings?

There was just too many variables to consider and Fury had to be careful not to provoke a war with Asgard. If these beings were friends of Asgard, then would it be better to simply release them with the caveat that they take their grudge matches out of town?

It certainly seemed like the best idea.

The SHIELD Director's migraine further worsened and pulled him from his rampant thoughts. He pinched his sinuses in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure. He needed to decide on how to proceed. He fished out a small bottle of aspirin from his desk drawer.

Looking down at the bottle however, his migraine simply seemed to worsen and the thought of attempting to take the medication oddly felt wrong to him.

As if he didn't trust the pain meds that he had used countless times before.

He tossed the bottle onto his desk as he further thought on his decision.

Stark was going to New York. There was no stopping that. Even if Fury told him that bringing two dangerous individuals to a population center was a bad idea, Stark didn't trust Fury, at least not enough that the Director would be able to stop a multi-billionaire from entering his own building. He did trust his own creations and Avenger Tower was a Stark Baby just like the Iron Man suits were. Avenger Tower was his home away from home.

And with Stark's previous streak in settling scores, the tech-savant would want to settle his with the being that made a mockery of Iron Man and the Avengers.

There was also no guarantee that they could even properly detain one of them. Seeing as how both could seemingly appear out of thin air, it was not a long shot that any attempts at doing so would be laughable at best and would piss them off at worst.

It was the reason why he wasn't diverting them to other SHIELD facilities. There were only three detention facilities that may have been capable of holding one of these beings. The Fridge, and Fury wasn't too keen on the idea of surrounding them with other Enhanced and enough artefacts and weapons to arm a small army. The Raft was obviously not a choice simply because one of them could control water and putting someone like that in there was not exactly the best idea.

And then there was the Cages that SHIELD retained in its Helicarrier fleet and among its command and control fleet of C-17s. The closest one being Coulson's and Fury wasn't about to let one of his aces out to play if he could avoid it.

He paused, holding that thought for just the barest of moments before coming to the conclusion that simply releasing them and hopefully coming to an understanding would be the best bet for everyone here.

But first Stark needed reinforcements and capable ones.

In this he wasn't constrained to simply roll the dice and hoping that Stark had it all figured it out. He would send agents to ensure there were no civilians out and about but having them directly engage these beings was just asking for an incident to occur.

It would also be a good time to see where these nascent teams of…heroes stood in comparison and perhaps see if they were Avenger material.

It still sat ill with the Director relying on them but SHIELD was still sorting the mess that was internal politics and conflicts of Earth and while headway was being made, they were still a ways off. Fury couldn't bring himself trust the deployment of Phase 2 weapons and equipment even to SHIELD much less to other world militaries that could help.

Regardless, organizing them into a single, central and above all, coherent, force was a step in the right direction rather than having all these teams out and about with their own agendas and ways of dealing with whatever may come up. Keeping them bundled up would certainly help in preventing an incident if they were ever to try and step on each others toes and if any of them went of the rails it would help in keeping it contained.

Fury would contact Professor Xavier only if these beings arrived in force. The dubbed…X-Men, he cringed internally at the moniker, had numbers on their side if nothing else.

The politics of involving what was a effectively a mutant strike force would be in the moral grey area at the best of times. Ironically, with the revelation that Humanity was not alone in the universe, mutants had been making more and more of a public appearance.

Where once they kept to themselves and were more or less an 'out of sight, out of mind' problem, mutant incidents were slowly rising. A snail's pace but rising nonetheless. Nothing that had so far caught onto mainstream media, mostly due to SHIELD interference. The Professor and Fury were doing what they could but sooner or later the wider public would be made aware and would want answers.

And if the reactions so far regarding mutants were any indication, it was not going to be pretty.

That left one other team.

Fury had a passing acquaintance with the team known as the Fantastic Four. He knew of them but had never spoken directly with them as Agent 13 had been the one to initially interface with and debrief them when they had returned from their space walks aboard the new International Space Station after the Battle of New York.

Turns out fear was an exponential motivator. The space station, a multi-national and multi-corporation effort, was completed and fully launched in just under four months with the purpose of being a research and development facility for technology derived from the Tesseract and the Arc Reactor.

Fury had popped a bottle of whiskey in silent celebration at his efforts finally beginning to pay off.

And then disaster. A storm of cosmic radiation struck killing most of the crew aboard. Luckily, their greatest minds were still alive…if changed.

It also helped that Richards and Stark had a decent working professional relationship.

But he digressed, they had proved themselves and while Fury would love for nothing more than to help them throw Doom into the Fridge or the Raft, it simply wasn't going to happen. Not with the current political climate and how intertwined he was in the stability of Eastern Europe and the Balkans.

Doom may be on just about everyone's shitlist but with how devoted the people of Latveria were to him, the prosperous and technological advanced country would become a rogue one if foul play was discovered.

Fury, and by extension SHIELD, would rather not have the technology and weapons of that country spreading across the globe.

And that brought him back to the present.

"Open a secure line." His desk illuminated in a small and dim glow of turquoise as the Director maneuvered over to it. "Contact Reed Richards."

The blue light materialized, a small profile of the renowned scientist and innovator appearing on his desk. The line connected with an audible click.

"You've reached Doctor Richards." A strong if a bit worn male voice was at the end. As if the man was just waking up.

Or had just been woken up.

No rest for the wicked. Fury mused to himself.

"This is SHIELD Director Nicholas Fury." He introduced himself as he opened the detailed profile that was had on the scientist and began to sift through it.

There was a small silence and had this been any other military or civilian line, he wouldn't have heard it but the Director was able to make out the sound of drawers being opened and lights being flicked on but there was also a notable hesitance in his response. "How can I help you?"

His profile did say that the man is the definition of a humanitarian and an extreme case of hero-complex that was on exacerbated by his newfound powers. Something that Fury would capitalize on.

But that simple question and hesitance told Fury that the scientist had the head to remain polite in the company of influences that could bring all his life's work to a screeching halt. It also told him that the man could learn from past mistakes and not hold grudges.

All good indicators that would make for an ideal candidate for an Avenger and provide a nice counter-balance to Stark.

"There's a situation developing. I'm asking for your team's assistance."

"The Avengers can't help?"

"They're busy with their own assignments. They can't be pulled fast enough to help."

"I see." Fury could see the figurative gears whirring in the man's head. "I'll see what I can do."

"The details will be sent over as soon as possible. To brief you, we have two unknowns. Suspected Asgardians having a grudge match. Both incapacitated each other. I want you to do what you can to keep them alive. Help them and send them on their way with the direction to keep their fights away from Earth and populated areas."

Another small pause. Fury could've sword that he heard some voices talking over each other. Richards probably had the whole team with him. "One of them wouldn't happen to be the unknown Asgardian from New York would it?"

"We suspect it might be." Fury admitted. There was no use lying nor omitting information that particular piece of information. "Him and a…friend appeared to be having a disagreement. Again, send them on their way. Don't engage." Fury felt the need to repeat his words.

"I understand. Where are we heading?"

"They'll be coming to you, Avenger Tower specifically. I'll have SHIELD teams deployed to clear civilians out of the area. The files sent over will have all the information you need. Fury out." The Director cut the line and compiled the information he had and sent it over.

Fury sighed and rubbed his temples and took another look at the aspirin as his headache began materialize in full force once again.

Sif was tired. A usual state that she found herself in but, as she usually left Jane's martial training to Perseus, it was typically not anymore than keeping fresh and her skills sharp. Jane on the other hand had taken Perseus' easy smack down of them personal and decided, whether she acknowledged it or not, to work with a fury and fervor that Valkyries were known for. The first time that she had displayed such a trait so openly.

And something that King Odin had, amongst other things, told her to keep an eye on. Tempered fury was a good thing but out of control could turn the stalwart throne guardians into frenzies that could match the vanguard of a Berserker.

Sif had never questioned her skills with a blade. As Sword of Asgard she didn't need to. But she wasn't of the Valkia. Sif didn't have the imbued desire or magically enhanced capabilities of a Valkyrie. Chosen by the Kings of Asgard to serve as the chief bodyguard of the Throne, each Valkyrie was a force in their own right and only grew stronger with each enemy slain and battle won.

Sif was just…Sif.

An Asgardian and among the strongest, but compared to Valkyries? She stood on a pedestal where Jane stood on a ladder.

Inexperienced the mortal turned Asgardian may be, but in time the gap would only close.

And time was something that Asgardians had.

It grated on her pride that such imbued enhancements as a Valkyrie would eventually outclass her hard-earned skill as a regular Asgardian.

It was even more infuriating that Jane was oblivious to such a thing and that even Sif once had the opportunity to revive the formally deceased order though declined it in favor of forging her own path.

It was a selfish, petty, and childish thing to be angry over, Sif knew. But it was all that ran through her mind that night. Outlandish thoughts of being left in the wayside as others continued to grow stronger, blessed as they were by gifts. Feelings of being forgotten as others reveled in glory won in deeds performed.

Thor and the Warriors Three would only grow as they fought to restore and cement the hard won peace across the realms. She felt she should be alongside them. Fighting and ushering in a new age of peace and glory across the cosmos that she had also partook in only to be sent to Midgard.

Jane the Valkyrie, under the tutelage of Perseus, would only grow in her prowess, eventually outclassing Sif in her comparatively stagnate but continually refined skill. Only by an miniscule chance to come by an Infinity Stone that had the ability to grant her the wish of being something more.

And Perseus, the Son of Poseidon. Someone that outclassed even her, maybe not in sword but he did not need a blade to best her in combat. His power over water, earth and air, simply ensuring a gap that could never shrink, no matter how much time would pass.

The Sword of Asgard had tossed and turned in her room, unable to catch a wink of rest as the thoughts plagued her. She didn't detest them. How could she? They're good intentioned and held no ill-will towards her.

Perseus, after all, was helping her train. Not only in keeping her skills sharp but developing new ones. Sif could say that before arriving to Midgard that fighting multiple opponents at once was not an area of combat that she excelled at. Sif could do it but she was not adept in that particular art. Now, had she possessed this experience before going to Jotunheim, maybe Fandral would not have been wounded.

She sat upwards, unable to continue laying on her bed. The dark interior was not personalized, at least not extensively as Jane or had done to her room.

It was more Perseus'. Minimal but with some touches of home here and there. Some gold figurines with embellished livery, drapes of maroon were over the windows while similarly colored fluffed rugs were covering a good portion of wood paneled floor, a couple of books mostly copied historical records from the various archives that dotted Asgard. In the corner, on a mannequin was her armor, freshly cleaned of beach sand but still stained in the pleasant smell of the sea. There were some paintings that she had taken from her home, anticipating a long time away from Asgard but other than that, the room was largely barren.

There was a mortal television in there as well, though she didn't use it as much.

Sif felt like if she was going to stay here any longer she may as well make it a home away from home. Maybe a trip to Asgard was in order, it would do her good. Get a couple more things and if necessary receive new orders from her king.

She hummed to herself, debating on what to occupy her time. It wasn't like her to be idle. Sif supposed that is what was leading to her feeling of slight home-sickness.

The Sword of Asgard needed to be doing something.

It was times like these that she envied the Son of Poseidon's ability to teleport to places.

And on that thought, why didn't she insist on accompanying him?

Not only would she be saved from this torment of idleness, but it was clear it was an urgent matter. Possibly even dealing with Olympus. Her position as envoy notwithstanding, she also had the order from King Odin to protect him.

As a Stonekeeper, Perseus was a target. Whether now or in the future, the demigod Son of Poseidon was and would be a person of interest for whoever sought out the Stones.

They may not be directly be looking for him but sooner or later, someone would come for the Aether.

Perseus would not stand alone.

King Odin may not have said such exact words but that was the only reason that she could think of that her king would want to ensure his safety. If not that then maybe the treaty but given that both Olympus and Asgard would gain nothing from warring with each other, that line of thought was moot simply as a matter of practicality.

She hummed once again, drumming her fingers along the covers of her bed.

Maybe some mortal entertainment was needed to occupy her mind. Her thoughts to the mortal information network that Perseus had quickly changed. That had been interesting though she understood that he would probably want to shield his younger sister. Mortals were so…finnicky and so stupid.

It was entertaining, watching them flail about attempting to reason with an ever changing world and disconcerting that change, something that was so fundamental to their being, was so hard fought against.

The things they could accomplish if they simply worked together.

Turning on the TV in her room, she flicked through the channels until something caught her interest.

It was another mortal broadcasting channel. One that looked similar to the one only a couple hours before. Large black and bold lettering on a white banner displayed the words. SUSPECTED ATTACK ON AVENGER TOWER

Sif studied it. Avenger Tower was where Thor's mortal friends were located and while she shared Perseus' sentiments of uncare towards the mortal team of supposed heroes they were still Thor's friends and by extension hers. Wishing ill-will towards others that were undeserving of it was simply in bad taste.

It was an overhead view of the area just outside the tall glass tower, the luminescent blue A casting a dull but noticeable glow on the surrounding buildings. 'We have received reports of suspected Ten Rings activity at the base of Avenger Tower! The declaration of Mr. Stark's death seems to have been premature as the Iron Man,' The picture changed to show a soaring beam of light that crossed in and out of the streets and buildings, though remaining relatively close to the tower. 'continues to fight!'

The image changed again, this time back and zoomed to the base around the tower. It seemed to begin to rain as patters seem to encroach on the image. Sif stood up in alarm at the sight though. There was no mistaking it. While she didn't know who the others were, she knew the unmistakable sight of Perseus' golden armor. Even in its damaged state it was hard not to make out who it was.

And he was severely injured and wounded.

The words of the mortal broadcaster going ignored as the Sword of Asgard quickly determined that he needed help.

Sif rushed out of her room. An amber mist coiling around her as the weight of her battle plate was summoned. "Jane!" She shouted and banged on the door to the valkyrie's room before promptly opening and entering it.

The woman was leaning up from her bed, startled, annoyed and bleary eyed at the sudden entrance of the Sword of Asgard. "What the hell is going on!?"

"Perseus is in trouble." She said without preamble and with an urgent and serious tone. "Get your armor on, we're going."

Sif did not laugh at the way Jane's eyes widened at the information and the way her posture completely changed, from exhausted to wide-awake at the flick of the switch as she scrambled to throw off her covers and don her armor.

Pale mist sputtered and waned as it attempted to fully wrap around the valkyrie. Hopefully she would be ready soon. Jane would probably have to fly them over there if they wanted to get there in a timely manner. Sif left her to her devices and rushed out of the room.

Only to come face to face with Calypso. "What's going on?" The Greek enchantress stared suspiciously at the Asgardian warrior with her arms folded across her chest.

"Perseus is in danger. We intend to go and assist him." Sif said simply.

There was a solid second of staring between the two and it was only broken by a voiced expletive and what Sif assumed to be Jane falling, if the unceremonious crash and thud of metal was any indication. "Okay." It sounded forced and like she wanted to join.

And Sif knew why she couldn't.

Despite knowing the lengths of Perseus' efforts, Titans were still wholly distrusted by the Theoi, particularly the King. Without escort, Calypso would be going to her death if she didn't remain here.

At least the Asgardians had the benefit of remaining safe under a treaty and their gifted bracelets allowed them a measure of anonymity and therefore freedom.

They would question their presence but beyond that they did not have to fear for their lives like Calypso would if she were not under escort.

It was a depressing notion considering her previous circumstances. Unbound by curse yet bound by preservation.

Calypso stepped aside and allowed Sif to pass as Jane followed after her, helmet in hand.

It did not take long for the two to get outside where rain was drizzling and the arcs of lightning could be seen dancing in the sky. Even above the usually safe and climate controlled property. The dull illumination from the city could be seen, just barely.

"You will have to carry me."

"You know how well that turned out last time." Jane groused as they stood on the snowy ground of the property. Said last time ended with Sif having an intimate meeting with the ground.

"We do not have the luxury of debate." Sif countered as she and Jane slipped on their helms. "This time just remember to come to a full stop before you let go of me." Helmed, armored and armed, the two Asgardians prepped with Jane gripping the back of Sif's armor. "The Avenger Tower, and please don't drop me again." Sif said one last time, rain continued to patter on their armored forms.

Both launching themselves into the air with powerful jumps, Jane's wings materializing at the apex of the jump and Sif felt the sensation of a heavy tug and the breath of her lungs leaving her momentarily at the heavy and the lifeline grip that the valkyrie had on Sif.

Strong beats of silver wings carried them through the night sky towards the mortal city. The arcs of lightning increasing in their intensity and luckily not striking them out of the sky. She could feel a slight biting breeze. One that wasn't malignant but one that was barely restrained in its fury. As if at any moment it could unleash a powerful and destructive wind. The same could be said for the rain, for its casual and near-unfelt fall could turn drastic and heavy in an instant.

It was definitely not a natural storm, a constant reminder that everything could turn for the worse in the flash of a lance of lightning.

Though whose it was could be anyone's guess.

They continued and it was not long before they entered the human city proper. Even above the howling and constant buzz of the wind, she could make out the mortal gunfire and screams of terror.

The Avenger Tower was rapidly approaching and Sif could see that it was utter chaos at the base of it. Mortal civilians were running every which way. Their peacekeepers doing their best to get and keep them out of harms way.

But she could see something magical. Nothing happy or fantastical but actual magic being cast. Wheels of amber sparks forming and being discharged by a hooded woman dressed in the golden yellow robes of a monk, though her shoulder had a patch of black smolder, where leather and chainmail molded unnaturally with the yellow fabric.

A streak of fire soaring just above the mortal streets and colliding with whatever hostiles that were around.

A glint of metal stone outstretched from behind a car overturned on its side. She could recognize that metal from anywhere and as far as she knew, only she and Perseus retained such weapons.

Beyond them, a group of blue suited humans advanced on a severely wounded Perseus.

"There!" Sif pointed a hand towards him. Jane grunted in acknowledgement and slowed to a halt above him.

And the valkyrie let Sif go, dissipating her wings just after her.

The Sword of Asgard came down as a meteor the wind whistling as she did so, legs bent as she collided with the asphalt street making a small crater from her point of impact. She pushed away the fog of war and instead leveled her sword towards the blue clad humans that had halted in their tracks a couple meters away. There was three of them. One man, lithe and tall, with brown hair that was greying at the sides studied them with bright and curious blue eyes. The woman with dirtied blonde hair in a tight bun was looking in concern and seemed torn between helping but not wanting to invoke their ire. The last was some sort of orange…rock golem thing, that had a neutral look but if the way his eyes seemed to crinkle was one of similar concern.

Jane immediately went to Perseus. "Sif! I need your help!" Her voice was of alarm and bordered on full panic.

Sif pulled her gaze away from the trio of beings where they stood looking out of place but also kept a wary look of their surroundings.

The Sword of Asgard pulled her sight away from them. She didn't think they would fight them. If they did have that intent, they were being incredibly stupid about it.

Looking down to the Son of Poseidon made her mind and heart stall for the barest of moments as she registered what exactly happened to him.

The only way she could recognize it was him was the design of the armor, at least what parts of it that were black, rent and melted. Charred flesh covered his entire left side and much of his face was covered in soot and his broken helm had been broken, the left cheekplate and the seashell frill having been torn off in a chaotic way.

He was shivering. If even the mortally wounded state he was in did not indicate that something was wrong, the shivering did. The Son of Poseidon was near immune to the effects of the biting cold.

She kneeled down, keeping a wary and paranoid eye on the group before them. One of them, the man, had peeled away and went towards the sound of fighting and screaming.

Sif was pulled, a craggily and burnt hand grabbing her own. She could feel the weakness in it and looked towards Perseus.

In the other, his blade, Thyella, pressed the grip into her empty hand. A moment of surprise crossed her features at the gesture and its implications.

No. Her mind immediately came to a conclusion.

The Son of Poseidon knew he was going to die. He ripped the beaded cord on his wrist even as Jane worked in a vain attempt to delay the inevitable and pressed the artefact into her waiting hand.

"Get him to his home! Now!" Sif said in Asgardian, the stress of the situation reverting to the tongue of her home. The light from his eyes faded, their usual vibrant sea-green dulling with each passing moment. There was still a chance. There had to be. His kin across the Sound could save him. She could not fail him nor her King.

Jane seemed to be shell-shocked. Her hands dirtied of ash and broken skin as Perseus' body fell limp against the ground, lifeless. She grabbed the woman's shoulder, shaking it violently. "Get him home!" She repeated. That seemed to pull her from whatever shock that had engulfed her and she simply picked up his broken and limp body with as much care as she could before launching into the air with seemingly more speed than before.

Thunder boomed and an increase of lightning danced in the sky. Still the rain did not teeter from its drizzle but remained a constant reminder that it could turn destructive at any moment.

Sif tucked the cord of beads into a small pocket at her waist. A seemingly primal anger engulfing her as she brandished both Sylfang and Thyella and faced the two blue and black suited individuals. A sudden tempestuous chord rang in her mind. One full of anger and retribution.

"What did you do?!" Her voice pierced the din of the dying battle.

The Man of Iron came suddenly and without warning hovering above the two. "Sif, we're friends of Thor! We didn't do this!"

She reasoned that the Man of Iron did not have reason to lie. Mainly because she did not think Perseus would allow himself come to such harm when facing mortals.

But that did not temper nor swell the song of anger ringing in her mind.

The other blue suit man appeared, his entire form stretching and flipping in from beyond the overturn car. Sif reacted adjusting to the newcomer, Thyella still pointed at the others while Sylfang was pointed to him. "Johnny is keeping an eye out but that should be the last of the Ten Rings. Sorry we couldn't catch any, Stark." He raised his hands in surrender but also looked genuinely remorseful at the failure.

There was no response from the Man of Iron as he kept his faceplate locked to Sif.

"Asgardian!" A voice that held a tinge of Latin in it sounded from behind her. Sif adjusted her stance further. She was outnumbered. Five to one. Possibly even six to one. And one of them was a sorceress and another look like it could take a herd of bilgesnipe.

A decided disadvantage. The storm of anger grew stronger in her mind.

But she pushed it away. It would not help Perseus any if she fought here.

Sif needed to return to the Son of Poseidon's homestead, if simply to inform his family of what has occurred. She doubted Jane would have it in her to do so, distraught and as shocked as to what had occurred as she was.

It was one thing for someone they did not know to die. It was entirely different matter when someone close to them did.

Perseus deserved someone to bear the burden and it was not going to be Jane.

"Asgardian, I'm Morgana. One of Apollyon's kin." The sorceress introduced herself quickly, bowing slightly with a raised but bandaged fist to her robed chest. "You can trust me." Sif regarded her with a look as did everyone else beside the Man of Iron who seemed to already know.

"Prove it."

She spoke in ancient Latin. One that she had heard Perseus speak on occasion when he trained with them. "He is a son of the Earthshaker and I am a daughter of the Mist goddess." The sorceress then pulled back her right sleeve and bore a pale arm towards her. She had seen such a branding before. Perseus had one, though hers only contained two more lines than his. She was a Roman demigoddess. That cemented that the sorceress was on her side at least. "Where's Apollyon?"

"The valkyrie took his body home. He's dead."

Morgana's features morphed into one of panic before being schooled and turning hard. "We will go to him."

An explosion rocked them sending shrapnel and fire towards them. The blue suited people instantly reacted, well the woman did. Her hands raised, the fire stopped against them enveloping them as a blanket would a sphere before it died down.

"We'll take care of the clean up." The man beside her spoke up looking about the area. "You guys go on."

"Reed-" The woman began to protest but a hard look from Sif dissuaded any notion of interfering with business that was not theirs.

"Can you keep an eye on Pepper? I should see this through."

The man nodded. "We'll take care of her. Just deal with the Ten Rings will you? I can't imagine this will go over well with anybody." And with that the two seemingly enhanced mortals began to bicker quietly while looking back towards them while the large orange rock man followed them, grumbling about having to get out bed for nothing.

Sif spoke up, brandishing her weapons towards the Iron Man. "You are not welcome to join. Remain here and clean this up."

"Peace!" Morgana raised her hands as she stood between them. "Stark is temporarily under my protection." She looked to him in a hard stare. "He will join but he will be under oath to keep what he learns secret."

Sif growled. A primal noise that made it clear that she did not like the idea of bringing him. Perseus did not like the man. Whenever he appeared on the television, their was clear distaste on his face. To bring him to his home when he was…dead…felt insulting.

A wave of her hand and a cascade of mist formed as Iron Man fell to the ground with a metal and weighty thud. Sif watched as she tossed a drachma into the mist and spoke. "Master Daniel Drumm." While Sif lowered her swords, she did not waver in her guard.

The mist shimmered for a moment. "Ancient One." A heavy baritone voice resounded within though it sounded as if it was beside them. Such was the power of IM-ing. Divinely facilitated messaging, Perseus had explained. There was nothing better to send messages with between those of the Immortal Realm. "What do require of me?"

"I need a Sling Ring…mine was destroyed in a…misunderstanding." Sif narrowed her eyes. The way the sorceress' eyes flicked to Perseus' blade was not as hidden as she might have thought it to be.

There was a small pause. "I see. One moment please." A couple seconds later, a portal of amber sparks appeared and a large signet ring with bands for two fingers fell into a pair of waiting hands.

"Thank you, Master Drumm. I shall return to the monastery in a couple of days." And with that she swiped a hand through the clouded mist, ending the message almost as soon as it began.

The Iron Man did not seem phased but it was hard to tell with his armor concealing anything that might have given away his thoughts.

"One last thing, Stark. I was not lying when I said that you will take an oath of secrecy. This is not done lightly. You breathe a word of this to anyone and I will be the least of your worries." Her voice was resolute and her hawkish yet gaunt features seemed to take on a much more shadowed appearance. "Take your oath of secrecy."

As if he had rehearsed it, he spoke. "I swear that I will keep everything I learn a secret." It was done in such a bland tone that Sif doubted that he meant it.

But whether Morgana cared was another matter. She probably didn't trust the mortal the same as Sif and hopefully have some sort of other guarantee that would ensure that the mortal kept his word.

If not, Sif would not be above asking Calypso to lock away such events from his mind.

Seemingly coming to a resolution, the Roman demigoddess twirled a bandaged hand that had the sling ring on it. A portal appeared large enough for them to walk through. First Morgana and Sif gestured with Sylfang for the Iron Man to be first which he promptly did and then she walked through.

And not a moment too soon either.

Jane had just arrived with the body of Perseus as she carefully set him on the snowy ground.

"I will go get Calypso." Sif said as she made to stand.

"That won't be necessary." Morgana spoke, a slight fear creeping into her voice as she looked towards where the beach was.

From there three silhouettes seemed to form in the darkness. The Iron Man took a couple fearful steps backs. Whether knowingly or unknowingly she didn't know, because she did the same as did Jane.

Morgana was the only one to hold her place but she did seem to prepare herself for a fight.

Sif knew these to be immortals.

But what stood out to her was not their aura of power but their likeness to Perseus. There was one man. Holding himself as if he stood above all others and that he expected roiling and waving eyes of power that held everyone else in contempt. He wore fish scaled armor that glimmered and shimmered in a myriad of hued blues as if they were actual living scales and studded at the shoulders with pure pearls. His raven black hair swept back and tied into a small ponytail.

If she didn't know any better Sif would have thought this to be Perseus.

The other two were female but were drastic in their portrayed personalities. One was demure and held back behind the other two. Her eyes were hard though and betrayed an expression that would have otherwise been described as serene. Her hair was simple and pulled into a tight ponytail and her glittering eyes while also sea-green held a sparkle and twinkle in them that made them seem more like gems rather than the oceans. She wore a chiton, though single piece cuirass adorned her body and was much the same as the man's. She had, adorned atop her head a circlet of hardened pale coral.

The last and perhaps the most frightening of the three, was another woman. Where the other was demure, she was fiery and left nothing to be hidden in a false and manicured front. Where the man held himself as a stature of a lord or king, she stalked. As if she were waiting to be unleashed upon whatever may garner her attention. Her hair was cropped into a short and frayed look but still held a wild beauty to it and her eyes where one roiled and waved or sparkled, hers were stormy and seemed to dance with arcs of lightning.

Where the other two wore what could be likened to armor that could be construed as ceremonial, hers was meant for one thing. War. She looked like an Amazon with her attire. Greaves and vambraces. Cuirass and pauldrons. No helmet but a circlet of silver and studded in small volcanic rocks.

"Lord Triton." Morgana bowed at the waist. "I did not expect you to come."

The man regarded the woman with a look that held both an indifference but also an anger to it. Like one would look at a particularly annoying insect.

"Give me my brother." Was his simple command.

"Lord Tri-" Morgana began.

Sif did not even have a moment to blink. As fast a bolt of lightning, faster even, the warrior woman had drawn a dagger and had it pressed to the neck of the woman, stopping whatever words she may have had in her throat.

"Speak another word and you will be dead before you can utter its last sound." Triton's voice was hard and held only promise. "Sister, get him."

The demure woman walked passed the hostage Morgana, passed an immobile Iron Man and moved passed Sif. Jane, still shocked at the events offered no resistance when the woman kneeled down and raised the body of Perseus as if he were a simple feather.

The demure woman simply began to walk away from him and the warrior woman, sparing her a glance as she eyed the spatha in her hand, but left after her as escort with Triton remaining.

"We did not challenge you." Morgana breathed.

"You challenged the sea when you assaulted my brother. Pray that he lives, or you, your order and your brothers and sisters will be wiped off the face of this earth." With those parting words the Prince of the Sea turned on his heel and left. None of them moved another muscle not until the three immortals disappeared from their vision.

"What the hell was that?" The Iron Man spoke, his faceplate rising for the first time.

Sif tuned them out. Lost in her thoughts. She would pray that they could save Perseus.

Though she did not seem to know why.

Poseidon was angry.

But he kept himself composed and reigned in. As Lord of the Sea, he could not be as easily swayed by his emotions. Such things would lead to the destruction of cities and the deaths of countless mortals.

And they were undeserving of his wrath, no matter how little he cared for their lives.

There was a time and a place. Focused and measured. His storms would not yet begin their destructive symphonies.

But that did not mean that it could not be easily seen. His court was empty, save for his wife, for that very reason. Poseidon, compared to his brothers, was not easily able to hide his emotions. It was anathema to hide them. The ocean by its very nature was expressive. It roiled and waved in his anger and it calmed and swept in his happiness.

None dared petition him now. If not, because they did not want to be the target of his wrath but because they too held in mournful vigil over the loss of a prince of the sea.

He waited at the steps of his throne room for that very reason. Amphitrite flicked at her nails in disinterest but there was worry dancing in her eyes. Say what she will about his demigod son, he had earned her respect and while still cold and with a measure of distance treated him as she would any of her children.

The Sea Lord had felt him alive and healthy for one moment and on the Ferryman's boat the next, his life leaving and fading with every passing moment.

He could not enter his brother's realm and with Olympus being so close, he could risk such an open intervention.

The moment Perseus returned home Poseidon made his move. He had dispatched his daughters and son to retrieve the remains of Percy.

One that would be able to keep him alive until they reached Atlantis. Another to be the warrior should they come to blows with whatever was capable of striking his son so. And his son to carry his authority.

It was not long until he sensed their arrival. The jets of seawater propelling them with all speed towards the palace.

What Poseidon saw made his heart shatter and tears fall freely from his eyes.

What Poseidon saw made his rage palpable. His divine energy radiating from his form like a luminescent bulk.

The Sea Lord could recognize those wounds anywhere and even Amphitrite had stood in alarm.

This was not the work of some wayward witch.

The Master Bolt had struck his son.

But why?

"Get him to the infirmary now!" Poseidon barked. Rhodes did not even stop in her jettison. Kymopoleia leaned against the entrance, her posture uncaring but there was a flicker of worry in her stormy eyes. Triton stopped just before his father.

There were only two that could heal such wounds. One was a guarantee, the other…not so much. The God of Medicine would have been the obvious choice. He should have been the obvious choice.

But the Lord of the Seas could not trust the Sun God to treat his son. Despite Apollo's support, there was no way Zeus would allow his son to heal a hated enemy if it truly was the King of Olympus that struck him down.

The other was Helios. The only other with experience in treating the wounds inflicted by the Master Bolt and unfortunately it was not by choice that he was forced to learn.

"Retrieve Helios. He can help here."

Triton did not question. He merely bowed at the waist and disappeared in a riptide of water.

That left Kymopoleia.

"Quietly begin raising our legions." Poseidon whispered under his breath towards his warlike daughter. Amphitrite eyebrows raised slightly at the order but made no move to dissuade him. This was an act of war.

His brother knew the consequences of lashing out against his son.

"As you command." The immortal nodded and filtered out of the throne room.

As soon as he exited, he received two mental requests to enter his realm. Helios' was granted immediately and a flash of light appeared before the Sea Lord. He ignored the second request. "What seems to be the issue?"

"Perseus was struck by the Master Bolt."

A fraction of a fraction of a second passed. Understanding already on the Sun Titan's face and left towards the Infirmary without another word. Luckily, Atlantis' palace was entirely devoid of water. It would not do for visitors to drown immediately upon arrival and the mess of pressurized and imploded flesh from the pressure of being under that much water was a pain to clean.

That request for entry came again.

And he ignored it again.

Poseidon did not wish to speak with the Queen of Olympus.

Not with the potential for war on the horizon.

Nor with what this exactly all meant from her intent and words all those years ago.

The request came again.

And again.

And again.

And when it was clear he would not answer, she not only pestered him for requests but also his wife, who with a sour look, spoke. "Let her in already. I grow tired of this. Should she attempt to persuade you, I will throw her out myself."

Poseidon relented.

The Queen of Olympus wasted not a moment to flash before him.

"Where is he?!" She said without any flair for dramatics nor did she wait for the usual pomp and heralding that was expected of her stature.

"Being tended to." Poseidon said with an edge that was clearly testing his patience. "Did you know about this?"

She bit her lip. It was a small thing. One that would have been unnoticed by anyone else had they not been family. He was her brother and she had grown up beside the Queen of Olympus when learning they art of ruling from Oceanus.

It told Poseidon that Hera did know. Maybe not entirely but she may have had an inkling as to what may have come to pass.

"You told me that he would not come to harm when I allowed you to take him!" Poseidon rumbled angrily.

"I did what I could!" Hera retorted with a bite of poison. She looked like she wanted to say more but bit her tongue. "I wish to speak to him when he wakes up."

"If he wakes up." Poseidon responded with bite of his own. "The Master Bolt is a wound not so easily healed from."

"I have faith in my champion." Hera turned her nose up at him, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "He will wake up."

"I pray that you are right, sister. For your sake, my brother's and this world's."

The ocean rumbled and groaned in its fury.

'The heart of man is very much like the sea, it has its storms, it has its tides and in its depths it has its pearls too.'

-Vincent van Gogh, The Letters of Vincent van Gogh

Not much to say here other than, to go read A Lament of the Sea. Its the prequel to this story and it is one of the reasons why the Time Travel Arc was written. Also if you like Lord of the Rings or Warhammer 40k I have a PJO crossover for both. A Warhammer Fantasy is on the horizon as well so be on the lookout for that!

On that note and as always, you can find me on the Emerald Library Discord! If you have any questions or concerns that is the best place to reach me at! The link to that is on my profile.

Credit for the Cover Art goes to duckduck#3344 on the Emerald Library Discord!