Summary: Dawn the newly appointed Chairman and Chief Executive Officer of Wayne Enterprises heads to a small town in New Mexico. Where she is set to meet with one of Wayne Enterprise's scientists and along the way she meets Thor.
A/U: Takes place in my Slayer Begins series. Set 2 years after the Epilogue of Slayer Begins 1: Huntress and 7 years after ending of Slayer Begins 3: Ironheart.
Pairing: Dawn/Thor
Disclaimer: Disney owns both the MCU (Thor & Avengers) and Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Chapter 1: A Stranger's Arrival
August 2, 2018 – Thursday
Streets of Puente Antiguo
Dawn Summers, the recently appointed Chairwoman and President of Wayne Enterprises, drove through the picturesque town of Puente Antiguo, New Mexico. The sun was beginning to dip behind the rugged mesas, casting long shadows that danced across the desert landscape. Her sleek, black luxury sedan cruised smoothly over the dusty roads, contrasting the small-town charm with its modern elegance. She was on her way to personally inspect a groundbreaking project, one that was devoted to studying extraordinary anomalies—mysterious events that defied conventional science, hinting at the very edges of reality. The air was crisp, and the fading light gave the town an almost otherworldly glow, as if it, too, harbored secrets waiting to be uncovered.
Her mind briefly wandered to the chaos following the ordeal with Bane. It felt like a lifetime ago, yet the memory was still fresh. Dawn, Bruce, and Buffy had stood united, providing crucial testimony against John Daggett, a man who had nearly brought the entire corporation to its knees with his schemes. She remembered the tension in the courtroom, the weight of responsibility on her shoulders as they exposed Daggett's fraudulent acquisition and misuse of Bruce's shares. The shares had been returned swiftly, almost like a puzzle piece snapping back into place, restoring balance to the company.
Afterwards, when Lucius Fox retired, there was no doubt in Bruce's mind who should step into his role. Dawn could still recall the gravity of that moment—Bruce entrusting her to be his successor. With Miranda Tate's, aka Talia al Ghūl, passing, the presidency had also become vacant, and Dawn had seamlessly assumed the responsibility, her vision for Wayne Enterprises as sharp as her leadership skills. Now, three years later, she had grown into the role, steering the company with a steady hand.
As she arrived at her destination, Dawn parked her vehicle behind a rugged Pinzgauer utility vehicle that looked more at home in a military convoy than in the quaint town. Dust swirled briefly in the air before settling as she stepped out, the click of her heels muted against the dirt road. She adjusted her tailored jacket, her movements graceful but purposeful. Dawn approached the side door of the Pinzgauer, feeling the dry desert breeze tugging at her hair. A faint scent of sagebrush lingered in the air, grounding her in the present. She knocked lightly, the metal door ringing with a dull echo.
The door opened, and Erik Selvig, a kind yet weathered scientist with eyes that sparkled with intelligence and just a hint of weariness, stood before her. His face lit up with a hint of recognition, the lines around his eyes deepening as he smiled. "Ms. Summers," he greeted, his voice warm but formal.
Dawn's smile softened her features, adding a touch of familiarity to the otherwise professional exchange. "Dawn, if you please, Erik. Or I'll have to address you as Dr. Selvig," she replied with a hint of playful humor in her tone. Her demeanor, while authoritative, was always approachable.
Selvig chuckled lightly, and with a nod, he stepped aside, cordially inviting her into the Pinzgauer. As Dawn entered, her eyes immediately swept over the interior, taking in the clutter of outdated computer monitors and scientific instruments that filled the space. The equipment was a stark contrast to the sleek, high-tech labs she was accustomed to in Gotham. Her brow furrowed slightly as she noted the worn-out state of the machines, a subtle sign of her concern. "I recall we provided funding to replace all of this," she remarked, her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and gentle reprimand.
Selvig shrugged, his expression revealing a blend of stubbornness and sentimentality. "I find comfort in working with my own equipment," he replied, his tone matter-of-fact. The sentiment was unmistakable—this old gear had seen him through countless discoveries, and despite the funding, there was a trust he placed in the familiar.
Jane Foster, who stood nearby, exchanged a sheepish glance with Dawn, her expression conveying an apology without the need for words. Dawn caught the look and sighed, her shoulders relaxing as she accepted the reality of the situation. "Alright," she relented, the authority in her voice yielding to practicality. "So, what do you have for me?"
Before Selvig could respond, Jane interjected, her eyes alight with anticipation. "We were just about to find out," she said, her voice brimming with excitement. A faint beep echoed from one of the older computers, breaking the stillness in the air. Jane moved swiftly, her hands deftly opening the expansive sunroof of the vehicle. The desert sky above was vast and dark, a canvas speckled with countless stars.
Jane stepped onto a built-in bench attached to the side of the vehicle, elevating herself with ease. The night air seemed to hum with the promise of something extraordinary. Gripping a magnetometer in one hand, Jane carefully adjusted her stance, using the device to calibrate the positions of the stars above. The digital display on one of the monitors blinked to life, a countdown rapidly ticking down—00:00:19. Dawn could feel the tension in the air, her pulse quickening in sync with the countdown. This was the moment they had been waiting for.
"Here we go," Jane announced, her voice barely containing her excitement. Her gaze locked on the night sky, every muscle in her body tensed in anticipation. Erik and Dawn stood beside her, their eyes following hers, each of them waiting with bated breath. The seconds seemed to stretch into eternity.
"Three... two... one... now!"
Yet, to their dismay, nothing happened. The night sky remained quiet, the stars twinkling above in their usual positions, betraying no sign of the anticipated cosmic anomaly. An uncomfortable silence settled over the group as their excitement began to wane.
"Wait for it," Jane urged, her voice steady, holding onto her optimism. Her eyes flickered with determination as she remained locked on the sky, refusing to let doubt creep in. The seconds dragged on, and still, there was no sign of the phenomenon they had predicted with such precision. The stillness in the air began to feel oppressive, the weight of their expectations heavy and unfulfilled.
Darcy, who had been silently watching from her position at the front of the van, peered out of the window. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel absentmindedly, her gaze drifting upward to Jane, perched above them. The intern's voice cut through the thick quiet. "Can I turn on the radio?" she asked innocently, breaking the tension with her usual offhandedness, her tone a mix of boredom and curiosity.
Jane shot her a sharp, almost impatient look, irritation flashing across her face like a crack of thunder. "No," she snapped, her voice hard. The sharpness in her tone revealed her rising frustration. There was no room for distractions, not when everything felt so precarious, teetering on the edge of failure.
With a sigh of resignation, Jane sank back into the van, her optimism deflating with each passing second of nothingness. The anticipation that had filled her chest only moments ago now felt like a cruel joke, replaced by the familiar sting of disappointment. Selvig, standing nearby, cast a quiet glance at Dawn, fully aware of the significance of Wayne Enterprises' involvement in their project. The research grant was more than just financial support; it was the lifeline keeping their work alive. If they couldn't produce results soon…
Dawn, sensing the unspoken concern, leaned back as well, her eyes drifting toward Jane's now-slumped figure. She observed the young scientist with a soft empathy, understanding all too well the crushing weight of expectations. Jane's shoulders, usually squared with purpose, now drooped with the burden of failure. Her hand trembled slightly as she flipped open a weathered notebook, its pages filled with meticulous calculations, scribbled diagrams, and notes that had once promised clarity. Now, they were a frustrating puzzle with no solution in sight.
"The last seventeen occurrences have been perfectly predictable down to the second!" Jane burst out, her frustration bubbling over. Her voice cracked slightly as she ran a hand through her light brown hair, pulling it back from her tense features. Her usually vibrant, determined eyes were now clouded with confusion and self-doubt. "I just don't understand." She stared at the pages as if willing them to reveal the missing piece, the answer that would explain the anomaly's failure to appear.
Dawn, watching her carefully, offered a reassuring smile. She had seen this look before—the one of a brilliant mind on the brink of despair, doubting their work when results didn't come as expected. "Jane," Dawn said gently, her voice calm and steady, "not all research yields immediate results. Trust me, I know." Her tone carried the weight of personal experience, and Jane glanced up, curiosity momentarily cutting through her frustration.
Dawn took a breath before continuing, her eyes softening with the memory. "Not many people are aware of this, but eleven years ago, I was left paralyzed from the waist down after being shot in the spine." Jane's gaze grew more focused as she listened, nodding slightly—she had heard different versions of Dawn's story in passing but never in such a personal way.
"Then, eight years later, a radical treatment came along." Dawn's hand rose to the back of her neck, her fingers brushing aside her hair to reveal the small silver ball embedded in her skin, glinting faintly in the dim light of the van. "No one knows its origin or how to replicate it. But it fixed my legs and my spine." The words hung in the air, a reminder that sometimes the miraculous cannot be forced or predicted.
"What I'm trying to say," Dawn continued, her voice imbued with quiet strength, "is that results may take time, but they will come. We won't withdraw our funding just because of one failed occurrence." Her words, though softly spoken, were laced with confidence and assurance. Dawn knew that sometimes the universe worked on its own timetable, and patience was the most valuable currency in their line of work.
Jane's tense expression softened as she took in Dawn's words, her own frustration giving way to a flicker of hope. She managed a small smile, appreciating the encouragement. "Thanks, Dawn," she whispered, the tension in her shoulders loosening slightly as she turned her focus back to the monitors. With renewed determination, Jane began reevaluating her calculations, her fingers tracing over the lines of equations as she hunted for any potential error she might have overlooked.
In her intense focus, Jane didn't notice the first hint of change—the peculiar, soft glow that began to form in the night sky above them. But Dawn did. Her keen eyes, trained from years of both corporate leadership and combat, caught the strange light emerging from the clouds in the distance, a faint, otherworldly shimmer that hadn't been there before.
Dawn stepped out of the Pinzgauer, the cool night air greeting her as she tilted her head to the heavens. The glow had intensified, casting an eerie, ethereal light across the dark landscape. "Nightwing?" she called out softly, her voice barely more than a whisper against the wind. The name, once symbolic of her alliance with Bruce and Buffy, now referred to the mysterious Skjolder unit embedded in her body, an extension of herself and her newfound capabilities. The bond between her and the unit had grown over the years, giving her the edge she needed in battles she once couldn't have imagined fighting.
"What do you make of that?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.
Inside her mind, Nightwing's calm, artificial voice responded, the tone devoid of human emotion yet imbued with analytical precision. "I am not certain," the AI replied, its programmed intelligence processing the unusual event unfolding in the sky above them.
"Jane?" Dawn called out, her voice cutting through the tension as she stood just outside the Pinzgauer, her eyes locked on the sky. She glanced over her shoulder, sensing that something monumental was beginning to unfold above them.
"What?!" Jane snapped back, her focus deeply buried in her calculations, frustration still lacing her voice. She hadn't yet realized what was happening around her, her mind consumed by numbers and theories that were failing to align.
"I think I may have just found your occurrence," Dawn declared, her voice suddenly alive with excitement. She turned fully to face the strange lights gathering in the distance, her pulse quickening as the impossible seemed to manifest before her eyes.
Jane's head jerked up at the tone of Dawn's voice. She leaned out of the door, her movements hurried, following Dawn's gaze toward the sky. Her jaw dropped, and for a long, suspended moment, she was rendered speechless by the sight before them.
In front of them stood something otherworldly, a spectacle that defied all logic and expectation. It was as though the constellations had broken free from the heavens, tumbling down to earth in a stunning display of celestial power. Stars that once seemed so distant were now swirling above the desert in a massive cloud formation, their shimmering lights blending into vibrant hues of purple, pink, and blue. Rainbow-colored energy rippled through the clouds, intensifying with each passing second, casting an ethereal, prismatic glow across the rugged desert terrain below. The ground itself seemed to hum with the pulse of it, alive with the same electric energy.
"I'll come back for my car," Dawn stated with swift decisiveness, the urgency of the moment overtaking her as she leapt back inside the van. Her heart raced in sync with the glowing anomaly. "Drive!" she commanded, her voice sharp with purpose, the weight of the extraordinary scene spurring her into immediate action.
Darcy blinked in surprise at the sudden order but didn't hesitate, her hands gripping the steering wheel tighter as her foot pressed down on the gas. The van lurched forward, kicking up a cloud of dust behind them as they sped off into the night, the surreal display of lights reflecting off the Pinzgauer's windows.
Inside, Jane wasted no time. She turned swiftly, her mind now fully engaged with the magnitude of what they were witnessing. With practiced precision, she grabbed a camera from her equipment pile, her hands moving fast but steady. Determination flashed in her eyes as she prepared to document the impossible. She popped up through the sunroof once more, her hair whipping in the wind as she raised the camera, capturing frame after frame of the awe-inspiring phenomenon. Beside her, Dawn remained steady, standing at Jane's side, her gaze fixed on the swirling sky. Their minds raced with the boundless possibilities of what this meant—the discoveries that could change everything they thought they knew about the universe.
As the Pinzgauer raced through the desert, the winds began to pick up, growing stronger by the second. The air felt charged, thick with anticipation and the strange energy radiating from the sky. At the heart of the swirling, rainbow-hued clouds, something dark began to emerge—a massive vortex that twisted and spun, forming into a rapidly growing tornado. The contrast between the tornado's ominous, dark core and the dazzling rainbow light around it was both terrifying and mesmerizing, a sight unlike anything they'd ever seen.
"We have to get closer!" Jane shouted to Darcy, her voice barely carrying over the rising howl of the wind. She could feel the intensity of the phenomenon building, every fiber of her being screaming that this was the moment they had been waiting for. Just then, a colossal lightning bolt sliced through the clouds, illuminating the sky with a brilliant white flash. The bolt tore through the swirling mass, striking the ground with an earth-shaking crack that made the van shudder violently on its wheels.
Darcy let out a yelp of fear, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel, struggling to maintain control of the van as it fishtailed across the dirt road. The van bucked under the force of the wind and the aftershock of the lightning strike, the tires skidding across the uneven ground. "That's it!" Darcy cried out, panic evident in her voice. "I'm done! I'm not risking my life for six college credits!" The fear was clear in her wide eyes, her breath coming in quick gasps as the swirling storm seemed to grow even more dangerous with each passing second.
Dawn, her adrenaline surging, leaned forward from her seat, her voice cutting through Darcy's panic with sharp authority. "I'll speak to your college," she yelled over the roar of the wind, her tone commanding and unyielding. "Consider the rest of your education funded by Wayne Enterprises. Just keep driving!" Dawn's voice carried the unmistakable weight of someone who knew how to make things happen—someone who wouldn't take no for an answer when the stakes were this high.
Darcy swallowed hard, the offer—and the sheer force of Dawn's determination—cutting through her fear. With a grimace, she gripped the wheel tighter, her hands steadying as she pressed down on the gas, propelling the van forward once again.
The van's headlights danced erratically over the rugged desert terrain as Darcy gripped the wheel, struggling to keep control amidst the chaos of the storm. Their beams swept across the landscape, illuminating the outline of a figure moving through the dust and wind—a large man, his silhouette barely visible against the swirling chaos of the storm behind him. His clothes hung in tattered remnants, and as he staggered forward, his dazed, strikingly blue eyes glimmered in the pale light, filled with a mix of confusion and something deeper, something ancient and disoriented.
"Look out!" Jane cried, her heart leaping into her throat as the figure stumbled directly into their path.
With a panicked jerk of the steering wheel, Darcy swerved, desperately trying to avoid the man, but it was too late. The van struck him with a dull, sickening thud, the impact sending the man hurtling through the air like a ragdoll, his form disappearing into the night.
"Nightwing!" Dawn's voice rang out with urgency as she instinctively sprang up from the sunroof, the cool desert wind whipping through her hair. In response to her command, black tendrils erupted from the silver ball at the base of her neck, wrapping themselves around her body like living shadows, molding themselves into sleek, black armor. The transformation was swift, almost fluid, and in a matter of seconds, Dawn was encased in the high-tech suit that granted her abilities no one else on Earth could even comprehend.
Without hesitation, Nightwing launched herself into the air, her movements precise and almost effortless as she soared through the darkness, her enhanced senses locking onto the man's falling body. She caught him mid-air, cradling him carefully in her armored arms just as the van screeched to a halt, its tires kicking up clouds of dust in the process. Nightwing landed gracefully on the ground, her feet touching down as though she had simply stepped off a curb, despite the fact that she had just intercepted a man falling from the sky.
Cradling the unconscious figure in her arms, she turned, her eyes finding Jane, Darcy, and Selvig as they scrambled out of the van, their faces etched with awe and disbelief. For a moment, they stood frozen, their gazes locked on Dawn in her full Nightwing form, the weight of what they had just witnessed sinking in.
Then, as if snapping back to reality, Jane surged forward, leading the charge as they rushed toward Nightwing. "Oh my God!" Jane exclaimed breathlessly, her eyes darting between Dawn and the man in her arms. "Is he—?"
Nightwing knelt gently, lowering the man to the ground, his face now illuminated by the van's headlights. Up close, he was even more striking. His features were impossibly perfect, as if sculpted by the hands of a master artist. The sharp angles of his jaw, the flawless symmetry of his nose, and the fullness of his lips combined to create a face that seemed both timeless and out of place, like a statue of a Greek god brought to life. His broad chest, barely covered by the remnants of his torn shirt, rose and fell faintly with shallow breaths. His shoulders, strong and chiseled, radiated power, though he lay unconscious and vulnerable.
The wind continued to whip through his long, golden hair, untouched by the storm's earlier violence, and Nightwing felt an inexplicable urge to reach out, to run her fingers through the cascading strands of soft blond. There was something magnetic about him, something that drew her in as though she was caught in his gravitational pull.
"Ms. Summers?" Selvig's voice cut through the moment, tentative yet respectful. He, too, was transfixed by the man before them, but his concern was evident. He took a step closer, as if searching for answers in the face of this strange event.
"Retract," Nightwing commanded softly, and the tendrils obeyed, retreating back into the silver ball embedded in her neck. The black armor dissolved, vanishing into nothingness as quickly as it had appeared, leaving Dawn standing in her civilian clothes once again. She turned to Selvig and offered a small nod. "To answer your question, yes, Erik," she said with a quiet authority, acknowledging his unspoken inquiry about her abilities.
Dawn's gaze returned to the man lying before her, and she lowered herself fully to the ground, her knees pressing into the cool desert sand as she knelt beside him. His presence was overwhelming, his beauty almost unreal. His skin, pale and smooth, glowed faintly under the desert moon, and even unconscious, there was an aura of strength and power radiating from him. She had never seen anyone like him—never encountered a man so otherworldly, so completely captivating. For a moment, it felt as if the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving only the two of them in this strange, still pocket of time.
"Do me a favor," Darcy's voice broke the spell, her familiar sarcasm cutting through the tension like a knife. "And don't be dead, okay?" There was a tremor of fear beneath her words, but it was masked by her usual wry humor.
As if responding to Darcy's plea, the man let out a soft groan, his chest rising as his eyelids fluttered weakly. Dawn's breath hitched in her throat as his eyes—those impossibly deep, azure eyes—opened and locked onto hers. In that instant, everything else seemed to fade away. His gaze was intense, almost penetrating, holding her in place as if he had reached inside her soul and tethered it to his. The connection was immediate, electric, and for a brief moment, Dawn forgot how to breathe.
Shaking herself free of the trance, Dawn tore her gaze away from his, forcing herself to regain composure. She wasn't some infatuated teenager anymore, she reminded herself. She had a job to do.
As if in response to his awakening, the storm that had raged so fiercely around them began to dissipate. The clouds, once dark and tumultuous, seemed to pull back, unraveling into the night sky as if they had never been there. The gusting winds softened to a mere whisper, leaving the desert eerily calm in the aftermath. Dawn blinked, her mind racing as a thought struck her—was his arrival somehow connected to the storm? Had he caused it?
She glanced back down at him, her eyes narrowing as she studied him more closely. Where had he come from?
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
A few tense moments passed, the night air thick with anticipation, as the man on the ground stirred. Without warning, he abruptly sat up, his muscular form jerking into motion with the kind of swiftness that made everyone freeze. His disorientation was palpable—his bright blue eyes darting from his shredded clothes to the vast, unfamiliar sky above, then to Dawn, who still sat cross-legged on the desert floor, watching him cautiously.
His expression shifted—confusion giving way to something darker, a mixture of disappointment and disgust as he took in the scene before him, as though their presence somehow offended him, as if they were not the ones who had just saved him. His eyes flicked to the sky once more, as if seeking something that wasn't there, something lost.
"Are you okay?" Jane's voice broke the silence, hesitant and unsure. Even as the words left her lips, she realized how hollow they sounded. The man had just survived a crash with their van and was now on his feet, seemingly unscathed but undeniably out of place.
He didn't answer her. Instead, his gaze dropped to the ground, his brow furrowing in frustration. There was something about him—a strange mix of regality and vulnerability—as though he were a king without a throne, displaced in both time and space. He took a step forward, scanning the earth beneath him with a growing intensity. "Hammer," he finally said, the single word carrying the weight of something profound, something lost.
The group stood in stunned silence, glancing at one another, unsure how to respond. His voice, though deep and commanding, was tinged with an almost desperate need, as if the very object he sought was his anchor to this world.
Dawn's keen eyes caught something in the sand. She narrowed her gaze and shifted, her attention zeroing in on peculiar markings etched into the ground near where the man had landed. It wasn't natural—the shapes, the lines—they looked deliberate, almost ancient, yet familiar in their strangeness. Her heart quickened. "Jane," she called, her voice steady but alert, drawing Jane's focus to the strange discovery.
Jane moved closer, her breath catching in her throat as she knelt beside Dawn, her hands hovering over the markings. The importance of this moment wasn't lost on either of them. Whatever had just happened—this man's arrival, the storm, these markings—it was all connected. "We need to document this," Jane said, her voice quick with urgency. She immediately began collecting soil samples, her hands deft and precise as she moved, knowing they had only a limited window before the winds would erase any trace of these mysterious patterns. Reaching for her notebook, she scribbled down rapid notes, determined to capture every detail for further study back at the lab.
As Jane worked, Selvig shifted uneasily, his concern deepening. His gaze flicked to the imposing figure who now paced the desert like a lion trapped in a cage, his movements erratic and full of barely-contained fury. "Dawn," Selvig began, his voice low but laced with concern, "don't you think we should take him to a hospital?" He gestured toward the man, whose wild eyes and torn appearance only heightened his imposing presence. Despite his sheer size and strength, there was something sorrowful about him—something lost. "He's clearly not well."
Before Dawn could respond, the man's voice shattered the quiet of the night, loud and filled with raw desperation. "FATHER! HEIMDALL!" His hands shot toward the sky, his voice rising with each word, echoing off the empty landscape. "Open the bridge!" It was a plea, a demand, spoken with a force that sent a shiver through everyone present. His voice was the cry of someone stranded, someone who had lost his way in more ways than one.
Dawn's eyes darkened with resolve. "I'll take him to my car," she said firmly, rising to her feet. "Then we'll head to the hospital." She didn't know what else to do—this man, whoever he was, needed help, and quickly.
But before she could move, the man's attention snapped to Darcy, his towering figure now closing in on her. Darcy, who had been silently observing from the background, suddenly found herself at the center of his intense gaze. His presence was overwhelming, commanding the space around him as if gravity itself bent to his will. "You!" he boomed, his voice filled with both confusion and authority, shaking Darcy to her core. "What realm is this? Alfheim? Nornheim?"
Darcy blinked, taken aback by the strange words. "Uh... New Mexico," she stammered, raising an eyebrow, completely thrown off by the absurdity of the question. Her heart raced, her usual sarcasm momentarily failing her as she tried to process what was happening.
But her response only seemed to ignite something within him. His expression darkened, fury flashing in his eyes as he whirled around, his movements sudden and volatile. The air crackled with tension, his anger radiating off him in palpable waves. Instinctively, Darcy took a step back, her hand fumbling into her pocket. She retrieved the small taser she carried with her everywhere, her fingers trembling as she gripped it tightly, holding it up in a weak attempt to defend herself from this enraged stranger.
"Okay, okay," Darcy muttered under her breath, her voice shaky but determined. "Just... take it easy, big guy." She tried to steady her breathing, her gaze flicking nervously between the taser and the man before her, praying she wouldn't have to use it.
"You dare threaten Thor with such a puny—" the man's booming voice reverberated through the desert, his imposing figure now towering over Darcy, who stood frozen in the intensity of his gaze. His words dripped with incredulity and insult, as though the very idea of being challenged by something as small as a taser was beneath him. His hands flexed, ready to confront this perceived threat.
But before he could finish, a new voice pierced through the night air, one that seemed to resonate from nowhere and everywhere all at once.
"Lord Thor, the Skjolder is at your service!"
Dawn's brow furrowed deeply, startled by the sound. Nightwing's voice had always been confined to the private space of her mind, a constant companion speaking only to her—yet now it echoed aloud, almost reverential, as if recognizing the man's status. She blinked in surprise, not understanding why her AI had chosen this moment to announce its presence so openly. But Thor's attention had already shifted. His eyes snapped toward her, his body turning with an urgency that made the air hum with tension.
"You!" he barked, the command rumbling like thunder. "Let me see—"
Whatever Thor had intended to say next was abruptly cut short. A sharp, high-pitched crackle filled the air as Darcy, face tight with determination and a flash of panic, squeezed the trigger on her taser. The prongs struck Thor's skin, and for a brief, electric moment, his entire body convulsed violently. His towering figure faltered, his muscles seizing under the surge of voltage coursing through him. His bright blue eyes widened in disbelief, his words dying on his lips as his body gave out beneath him, crashing to the desert floor with a resounding thud.
For a beat, no one moved. The immediate danger had passed, but the shock of what had just occurred lingered heavily in the air.
Dawn let out a low, regretful sigh. Things had escalated faster than she could control. Her mind raced through the consequences of what had just happened. Thor was not just any man—he was a force, a god if his words were to be believed—and now he lay unconscious at her feet.
"NIGHTWING!" Dawn called; her voice sharp with urgency. In an instant, the familiar tendrils of her armor erupted from the silver ball embedded at the base of her neck, enveloping her in her armor. Without hesitation, she bent down, carefully lifting Thor's limp body into her arms.
She didn't waste another second. With a burst of speed, her legs propelled her forward at supersonic velocity, the wind whipping against her as the desert landscape blurred into a streak of muted colors. Thor's weight barely slowed her as she sprinted toward the rental car parked several miles away. The sheer exhilaration of moving at such a speed filled her veins, but the gravity of the situation weighed her down just as heavily. They needed to get him help—and fast.
Within moments, she reached the car. Nightwing deftly maneuvered Thor into the passenger seat, securing him as best as she could, his large frame practically overflowing in the small space. She took a moment to catch her breath, retracting her armor with a thought as the tendrils shrank back into the small ball at the nape of her neck.
Sliding into the driver's seat, her hands gripped the wheel with a sense of purpose. The engine roared to life, and with a screech of tires, Dawn sped off into the night, the headlights cutting through the now-calm desert. Her thoughts churned as she drove toward the nearest hospital in town, her mind bouncing between the strange arrival of this man, his bizarre claims of being Thor, and the cosmic forces that seemed to swirl around them like a storm.
Puente Antiguo Hospital
Once Dawn arrived at the hospital, she pulled into the emergency entrance, her tires screeching slightly as she came to a halt. The fluorescent lights of the hospital bathed the area in a harsh, sterile glow, the low hum of the night only broken by the distant wail of sirens. Dawn quickly stepped out of the car and flagged down a few hospital staff members, her tone commanding yet polite. Within moments, a small team of nurses and an orderly rushed over with a gurney, their faces shifting between curiosity and urgency as they approached.
Carefully, they transferred Thor from the passenger seat onto the gurney. Despite his imposing size, they worked with swift precision, ensuring his comfort as they adjusted the straps and guided him into the hospital. Dawn watched as they wheeled him through the automatic doors, her mind still reeling from the bizarre series of events that had unfolded that night.
With a deep breath, she shook off her lingering concerns and walked into the admitting area of the hospital. The sharp scent of antiseptic greeted her, the clinical atmosphere familiar yet unsettling. Behind the front desk, a young nurse sat, clearly preoccupied. The rhythmic sound of her nail file scraping against her fingernails grated on Dawn's already frayed nerves. She cleared her throat, her voice sharp but measured.
The nurse lazily glanced up, her expression shifting into a perfunctory smile. With a nonchalant click of her mouse, she began the admission process. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, moving at a sluggish pace that seemed to contradict the urgency of the situation. Dawn suppressed the growing irritation in her chest, her patience wearing thin.
"Name?" the nurse asked, her voice disinterested as she began to type. The slow clack of each key punctuated the silence between them.
"He said his name is Thor. No known last name," Dawn replied, her words quick and businesslike, trying to inject some speed into the process.
The nurse, however, appeared unhurried. Her fingers moved one letter at a time, spelling out the name with excruciating slowness: T-H-O-R. The deliberate pace of her typing seemed almost surreal given the circumstances, as if the gravity of the situation hadn't quite registered with her.
"And your relationship to him?" the nurse asked, her eyes still fixed on the screen.
Dawn took a moment, unsure how to summarize the strangeness of the evening. "I've never met him before tonight," she explained, keeping her voice calm despite her growing frustration. "I am the Chairwoman and President for Wayne Enterprises, and I was with one of our researchers a few miles outside of town when he stumbled in front of our van. He seemed fine when he got up, but our intern ended up tasering him." Dawn's lips twitched into a slight smirk, though it quickly faded. "Don't ask me why. I don't really know."
The nurse barely reacted to this strange recounting of events, her face showing the kind of indifference only someone working the night shift at a hospital could muster. She continued her routine, moving through the list of questions without haste. "I'm going to need a name and contact number," she said flatly.
Dawn reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a sleek business card, placing it on the counter with a deliberate tap. "You can reach me at the number on the card," she stated simply, her voice carrying a subtle edge of authority. She was used to cutting through red tape, and tonight was no different, despite the unusual circumstances.
The nurse picked up the card, glancing at it with a disinterested eye before typing the information into the system. Dawn took a step back, her mind already shifting to the next steps. Thor, or whoever he was, was now in the hospital's care, but the mysteries surrounding his appearance—and the cosmic storm that had followed—still gnawed at the edges of her thoughts.
For now, she had done all she could, but the night's events had left her with more questions than answers.
Streets of Puente Antiguo
Despite the inclination to wait, Dawn's eagerness to return to Jane, Selvig, and Darcy gnawed at her. The mysterious events of the night weighed heavily on her mind, and the hospital's sterile environment only made her feel restless. She needed answers, and the sooner she unraveled the enigma surrounding Thor, the better. With a determined stride, she pushed through the hospital doors, the cool night air washing over her like a wake-up call. The stars above twinkled faintly, as though mocking her with their distant indifference to the extraordinary events that had transpired below.
She hurried toward her car, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement. Sliding into the driver's seat, Dawn started the engine, the low hum of the car a comforting contrast to the chaos of the night. As she pulled away from the hospital, her eyes flicked to the dashboard clock. It was late—much later than she had anticipated—and the weight of exhaustion tugged at her. But there was no time to dwell on it now. The thought of reconnecting with Jane and the others, piecing together what they had witnessed, kept her focused.
As the dark road stretched out ahead, Dawn made the practical decision to recharge for the day to come. Her mind, though eager to dive back into the puzzle of Thor's arrival, knew she needed rest to face whatever lay ahead. She couldn't afford to run on empty, not with the magnitude of the mystery they were dealing with.
Puente Antiguo Hotel
Arriving at her temporary residence, Dawn parked, making her way inside with swift, purposeful steps. Before retreating to bed, she pulled out her phone, dialing Buffy and Bruce. The warmth of hearing their voices was immediate, cutting through the residual tension of the evening.
Dawn recounted everything that had unfolded—the storm, Thor's sudden appearance, the cosmic phenomena—but she consciously avoided mentioning the moment she had called forth her Nightwing armor in front of the others. She knew Bruce would disapprove, always cautious about maintaining the secrecy of their identities. Nightwing was meant to be a whisper in the dark, not a spectacle.
"If anyone can make sense of this, it's Jane Foster," Bruce remarked after Dawn concluded her story, his deep voice calm but with a hint of curiosity. "She's the foremost expert in astrophysics, which is why I recommended her for the project. Trust her instincts, Dawn."
"I know, Bruce," Dawn responded, her voice softening. She trusted Jane implicitly, but even with all the science, something about Thor felt like it transcended mere astrophysics. "And how are my nieces doing?" she asked, shifting the conversation toward lighter matters.
"They're both doing well," Buffy chimed in, her voice warm with the ease of domestic life. "But they do miss their aunt, you know."
Dawn smiled, a flicker of warmth piercing through the weariness. "I miss them too, Buffy. Once we get to the bottom of this situation with Thor—whoever he is—I'll come home. I promise."
There was a brief, comfortable silence, then Bruce spoke up again. "Oh, and Dawn, before I forget—The Raptor is ready."
Dawn's smile widened at the news. While Skjolder's powers already granted her the ability to fly, she had requested Bruce to design a custom vehicle for her Nightwing persona. Something sleek, fast, and unmistakably hers. The thought of it filled her with a giddy excitement, though she masked it with her usual composure. "That's great to hear, Bruce," she said, her voice light. "I can't wait to see it."
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Dawn's eyelids grew heavy, and the conversation wound down. "I better head to bed now," she finally said, the exhaustion catching up to her. "Good night, guys."
"Good night," echoed Bruce and Buffy in unison before Dawn ended the call.
Tired but satisfied, Dawn changed and nestled into the soft comfort of her bed. The events of the day played over in her mind, the surreal encounter with Thor at the forefront. Who was he really? What did his arrival mean for the research? Despite her fatigue, her thoughts swirled with these questions. But soon, the gentle rhythm of sleep overtook her, and she drifted into a deep, dream-filled slumber where Thor, the storm, and their unfolding adventure intertwined with her subconscious, beckoning her to solve the mystery they had uncovered.
Dawn's Dreamscape
Dawn's dreams carried her far away from the chaotic desert and into a world suspended between reality and fantasy. In her dream, the storm had long passed, leaving behind a night sky painted with millions of shimmering stars, each one brighter than she had ever seen. The landscape was lush, a rolling meadow of vibrant green, dotted with wildflowers that swayed gently in the breeze. The air was warm and sweet, the scent of blooming jasmine filling her lungs.
At the center of it all was Thor.
He stood at the edge of the meadow, his back turned to her at first, but even from this distance, his presence was magnetic. Dawn felt her heart quicken as she approached, her footsteps light, barely making a sound on the soft earth. The moonlight bathed him in a silvery glow, accentuating the broad lines of his shoulders and the flowing cascade of his golden hair. He wasn't wearing the tattered clothes from the desert; instead, he was dressed in armor that gleamed like polished silver, regal yet somehow comforting in its familiarity.
As Dawn drew closer, he turned toward her, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause. His eyes, deep and as blue as the clearest oceans, locked onto hers, and in them, she saw not just the warrior from earlier that night, but something softer—something that felt almost intimate, like he had known her for a lifetime. The intensity of his gaze made her breath catch in her throat.
He smiled, and it was as if the stars themselves dimmed in comparison. Slowly, Thor closed the distance between them, his large hands gentle as they reached for hers. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver up her spine, but it wasn't the cold that caused it. His hand engulfed hers, strong yet tender, as if holding something fragile, something precious. Dawn felt herself being pulled into him, her pulse racing as their fingers intertwined.
"You came to me," he said softly, his voice a deep, velvety rumble, full of gratitude and longing. There was something ancient in his tone, as though he had been waiting for this moment across endless time and space.
Dawn didn't answer with words; instead, she found herself stepping even closer, her body moving instinctively toward his. The cool night air played around them, but standing this close to Thor, she felt nothing but warmth. Her other hand found its way to his chest, her fingertips tracing the hard muscles beneath his armor, her heart pounding as she marveled at the feeling of his strength.
Thor's hand came up to cup her face, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek. The tenderness in his touch was unexpected from someone so formidable, and it made her feel both safe and completely unmoored. His eyes, still locked with hers, seemed to search her soul, and she couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking the same thing she was—how could something so new feel so inevitable?
Without a word, Thor leaned down, and Dawn felt herself tilting her face upward in response, her breath catching in anticipation. The world around them melted away, the meadow, the stars, the night sky—none of it mattered. All that existed was the space between them, narrowing with each passing second.
When their lips finally met, it was like the universe itself sighed in relief. His kiss was gentle at first, but it quickly deepened, igniting something in Dawn that she hadn't known was there. She felt his arms wrap around her, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them, the heat of his body enveloping her completely.
In that moment, there was no hesitation, no uncertainty—just pure connection, as if they were two halves of a whole that had finally found their way back to each other. Time lost its meaning as they stood there, locked in each other's embrace, the world spinning on without them.
When they finally pulled apart, Thor's forehead rested against hers, his breath warm against her lips. "You are unlike any mortal I have ever known," he whispered, his voice thick with awe and affection. "I feel as though I have waited an eternity for this."
Dawn smiled, her eyes fluttering open to meet his. "And I feel like I've been dreaming of you my whole life."
They stood like that for what felt like hours, wrapped in each other's arms, as the stars above them danced in celebration of their union. Dawn's heart felt full, a happiness she couldn't quite describe settling over her like a soft, comforting blanket. This was peace. This was what she had unknowingly longed for.
And then, just as she was about to speak, the edges of the dream began to blur. The meadow faded, the stars dimmed, and the warmth of Thor's embrace began to slip away. Dawn tried to hold onto the moment, but it was slipping through her fingers like sand.
August 3, 2018 – Friday
Puente Antiguo Hotel
With a soft gasp, she awoke in her bed, the memory of Thor's touch lingering on her skin, her heart still racing as if the dream had been more than just that. She lay there in the quiet darkness, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how a dream could feel so real, and why the thought of seeing him again made her heart flutter with anticipation.
Wayne Enterprises – Foster Research Division
Dawn was well aware of the effort it had taken to establish a suitable workspace for Jane and Selvig when they first arrived in Puente Antiguo. The sleepy desert town had limited options, and for researchers of their caliber, the right environment was crucial. Recognizing the need for a functional space, Wayne Enterprises stepped in, acquiring an old, abandoned car dealership that had long stood vacant, its once-prominent "Smith Motors" sign left to rust under the relentless sun. As Dawn pulled into the parking lot, she couldn't help but notice the fresh new sign that now proudly hung in its place—bold letters announcing "Wayne Enterprises – Foster Research Division." The transformation was stark, the building now a hub of cutting-edge science in a town that seemed, at times, frozen in the past.
Stepping out of her car, Dawn took a moment to appreciate the view. The desert landscape stretched out endlessly before her, the towering mountains in the distance forming a jagged, yet serene silhouette. The morning light bathed everything in a golden hue, creating a quiet, almost otherworldly beauty. But the tranquil scenery was not what had brought her here today—something far stranger was at play, and her thoughts quickly returned to the bizarre events of the previous night.
Inside the building, she found Jane, completely absorbed in her work. The room buzzed with the quiet hum of machinery, while the printer beside Jane steadily produced images—captured moments of last night's storm. Dawn glanced at the workstation cluttered with tools, wires, and hastily scribbled notes, all signs of Jane's relentless pursuit of understanding. Through the large windows, Dawn stole another glance at the mountains, the calmness outside a stark contrast to the frenetic energy within.
Jane, with her head bent over a delicate piece of equipment, hadn't noticed Dawn's arrival. Sparks briefly illuminated her face as she meticulously soldered, her brow furrowed in concentration. She was in her element, immersed in the kind of work that had always set her apart—solving mysteries hidden in the fabric of the universe.
It wasn't until Selvig entered the room that the moment shifted. His casual appearance—carrying three steaming cups of coffee—seemed almost out of place amidst the serious tone of the morning. With a knowing smile, he handed one cup to Dawn as he passed, acknowledging her arrival without needing words. The aroma of fresh coffee mingled with the scent of hot metal and electronics. Selvig placed the second cup in front of Jane, who barely glanced up, still focused on her project, while taking a sip from his own cup.
"We might want to conduct a spectral analysis," he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful, as if he were speaking aloud the thought for the first time.
Jane paused, finally looking up. "We?" she echoed; her surprise clear.
"Indeed, we," Dawn interjected with a grin, stepping further into the room, her presence finally registering with Jane. "I'm as invested in this as you are now. What happened last night—and with Thor—has me intrigued, to say the least. Plus, the anomalies you mentioned in your email were significant enough to bring me out here. There's more going on than meets the eye."
Jane's gaze lingered on Dawn for a moment, processing her words, before returning to the monitor that displayed the images from the previous night. The swirling mass of the storm clouds, the dazzling lights—they were all there, just as they had been in person, but somehow even more surreal in still frames. Jane clicked a few keys, and the image on the screen shifted, zooming in on something that had gone unnoticed in the chaos. Dawn's breath caught as the cloud seemed to bulge and warp, forming what looked like a giant, shimmering bubble—a blister in the sky that stretched outward, speckled with stars that didn't belong.
"The lensing around the edges," Jane pointed out, her voice charged with excitement, "suggests an Einstein-Rosen Bridge."
Dawn's eyes widened at the mention of the theory. As someone who had devoured every sci-fi novel and movie she could get her hands on, the concept of an Einstein-Rosen Bridge—more commonly known as a wormhole—was not foreign to her. The idea of instantaneous travel between distant points in space had always fascinated her, and now, standing here in a small New Mexico office, it felt like the boundary between fiction and reality was blurring.
Beside her, Darcy, who had been casually doodling in the margins of her notebook, lifted her head in confusion. She had clearly missed the significance of the discussion. "A what now?"
Jane, with the practiced patience of a teacher explaining something for the hundredth time, simplified it. "A wormhole," she said, breaking it down for Darcy's benefit.
Dawn, still processing the magnitude of Jane's claim, chimed in. "But if it was a wormhole," she said slowly, thinking aloud, "we'd know its destination, right? I mean, the stars we saw through it… they weren't from any constellations we recognize."
"You're correct, Ms. Summers," Jane concurred, her tone filled with a mixture of respect and curiosity.
"Dawn," Dawn gently reminded, her voice soft yet firm. "Please, just call me Dawn."
Jane nodded, her expression shifting to one of understanding. "Dawn, wherever it opened, it led to a location unrecognized by any scientist or astrophysicist." Her words hung in the air, each syllable heavy with the weight of their implications. The reality of their situation was beginning to crystallize into something concrete, something that demanded attention.
In that moment, a burst of energy broke the contemplative silence, courtesy of Darcy. "Hey, take a look at this," she exclaimed, her excitement palpable as she waved a piece of paper in the air.
Jane turned, initially prepared to reprimand Darcy for interrupting the serious discussion, but her words caught in her throat as she focused on what Darcy was holding. The image Darcy presented was nothing short of astonishing—a high-resolution picture of the starry funnel cloud they had witnessed the previous night. But right in the center, descending from the heavens like a bolt of divine energy, was the unmistakable silhouette of a man—Thor. His powerful form, outlined against the shimmering backdrop of the storm, was striking and almost ethereal, as though he were both part of the celestial display and wholly separate from it.
The room fell into stunned silence, the four of them grappling with the implications of this revelation. Each of their minds raced, processing the weight of what this image suggested. The air was thick with anticipation and disbelief, and the only sound was the faint whir of the printer, now forgotten in the gravity of the moment.
Dawn felt her heart quicken as the realization hit her. She had suspected Thor's connection to the storm from the very beginning, but this visual confirmation solidified her instincts. "I believe it's crucial that we have a conversation with Thor," she spoke up decisively, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of thoughts in her mind.