Chapter 2: Finding Answers
August 3, 2018 – Friday
Puente Antiguo Hospital
Upon arriving with Jane at Thor's assigned room in the hospital, Dawn's heart sank as she discovered that Thor had vanished. The disarray in the room was unmistakable; the bed was overturned, sheets tangled like a battle scene, and the IV stand lay on the floor, its tubes scattered like abandoned lifelines. A palpable sense of frustration washed over her as she exchanged a worried glance with Jane. This was not how things were supposed to unfold.
Regrouping in the parking lot, the weight of their dilemma pressed heavily on them. Darcy, leaning against the van with her arms crossed, looked up expectantly, her brows knitted together. "Now what?" she inquired, noting the absence of Thor with a hint of exasperation.
"We need to find him," Dawn asserted, her determination unwavering, igniting a spark of hope amidst the chaos. She felt the urgency of the situation seep into her bones, propelling her forward.
"Our data alone won't reveal what transpired inside the phenomenon, but Thor can provide insights," Jane added, her analytical mind already racing ahead to possible scenarios and solutions. Dawn appreciated Jane's practicality; it grounded her amidst the whirlwind of emotions.
Dawn surveyed the surroundings, her eyes narrowing as she began to formulate a plan. "I'll take to the sky. You two cover the ground," she whispered, her voice low yet firm, as if sharing a closely guarded secret. "By approaching from different angles, we increase our chances of locating him quickly." She quickly jotted down her communication frequency on a slip of paper, her fingers moving swiftly and deliberately as adrenaline coursed through her veins. She handed the slip to Jane, her heart pounding with the weight of their mission. "This is my comm frequency. Contact me if you find him."
Jane nodded, accepting the paper with a focused look, the gears of her mind already turning. "Understood," she affirmed, climbing into the van as they prepared to drive off, the engine rumbling to life and echoing their determination into the air.
Dawn discreetly made her way around the hospital, her senses heightened as she navigated the shadows, ensuring she wouldn't be observed. She felt a thrill of excitement mixed with trepidation as she reached a secluded spot behind a row of bushes. "NIGHTWING!" she called out, her voice ringing clear and resolute. In an instant, her armor materialized around her in swirling tendrils of energy, wrapping her in a protective cocoon that felt both familiar and empowering. Within seconds, she took flight, soaring above the landscape at astounding speeds, her heart racing with exhilaration as the world below blurred into a tapestry of colors.
Nightwing recognized the significance of obtaining information from Thor; it was vital not just for Jane's theory but also on a deeply personal level. The silver ball, the Skjolder unit, had been an artifact of unknown origin, and as she flew, Nightwing pondered the possibility that Skjolder's existence might be linked to the same cosmic origins as Thor's. The thought fascinated her, especially since the Skjolder unit had recognized Thor as something more than just an ordinary man.
Determined not to let Thor vanish without a trace, Nightwing's motivations were driven by more than just his striking handsomeness or the racing of her heart in his presence—though those were undeniable bonuses. She genuinely wanted to connect with him, both on a personal and informational level, to understand the world he came from and the secrets he might hold.
"Dawn…" Jane's voice suddenly interrupted her thoughts via the commlink, cutting through the rush of wind that surrounded her.
"When I'm in armor, codenames only, Jane," Nightwing informed her, her voice steady but laced with urgency. "We can't risk someone intercepting this frequency."
"Right, Nightwing," Jane acknowledged, her tone a mix of relief and disbelief. "We found him. Well, actually, he sort of found us, repeating yesterday's encounter." There was a hint of amusement in her voice, as if the universe was playing a cosmic joke on them.
"Where are you?" Nightwing inquired, a sense of urgency punctuating her question. She was already envisioning how she would navigate the hospital corridors to find him.
"We're still at the hospital," Jane replied, her voice tinged with a hint of frustration.
"On my way," Nightwing responded, abruptly changing direction mid-flight. She felt a rush of adrenaline as she soared through the air, adrenaline pumping through her veins. How had she missed the fact that Thor was still within the hospital's premises? It was baffling, and she was determined to set things right. Within a minute, she landed next to Jane, who was attempting to explain the improbable coincidence of encountering Thor twice in two days. "I swear we're not doing that on purpose."
Thor stood nearby, a figure of confusion and contemplation, his broad shoulders relaxed yet his brow furrowed in thought. He remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the sun high in the sky, its warm rays illuminating the pavement around them like a golden blanket. "Blue sky, one sun," he murmured softly, a distant look in his eyes as if he were drinking in the simplicity of the moment. Then, as if struck by a lightning bolt of realization, he said, "Oh, no. This is Earth, isn't it?"
"Yes," Nightwing confirmed, her voice steady, grounding him as she felt the weight of his confusion.
Thor turned his attention towards Nightwing, his eyes widening in surprise. "Who are you?" he inquired, his tone shifting from confusion to curiosity, a mix of awe and caution reflected in his azure gaze.
"I am Nigh..." Nightwing began to reply, the words just at the tip of her tongue, ready to establish her identity.
"Skjolder," the Skjolder unit interjected, speaking aloud again with an authoritative tone.
If the others could see inside the helmet that hid Dawn's face, they would have witnessed her eyes widening in astonishment. Until now, the entity she referred to as Nightwing had never uttered a spoken word. It had only communicated with her through her inner thoughts, a silent partner in her endeavors. But this had been the second time in twenty-four hours that it had spoken aloud, breaking the silence that had surrounded its existence.
"Retract," Nightwing commanded, her voice firm and resolute, and the armor obediently dissipated, leaving Dawn standing beside Jane, her heart still racing from the whirlwind of events.
Wayne Enterprises – Foster Research Division
As they returned to Jane's lab, Thor couldn't seem to tear his gaze away from Dawn. His eyes followed her every movement, as if trying to piece together something unspoken between them, something even Dawn couldn't quite articulate. The atmosphere around them seemed charged, an undercurrent of curiosity and tension that neither fully acknowledged. Once they arrived, Jane, ever practical, darted off to her trailer behind the lab and hurried back with a pair of jeans and a slightly faded T-shirt for Thor.
"Here, you can change in the back," Jane motioned towards a corner of the lab, her cheeks flushing slightly as she realized how casual and personal the gesture was, offering a stranger her ex's clothes. She joined Dawn and Darcy, leaving Thor to change in privacy.
A few minutes later, Thor emerged, but not as expected. Shirtless, his broad, muscular frame cast in the glow of the lab lights, he held the T-shirt in his hand, seemingly in no rush to put it on. Dawn's breath hitched at the sight, her mind flashing back to the vivid dream she had the previous night. There he was, standing before her, like an echo of that intimate vision—strong, powerful, and utterly mesmerizing.
"You know, for a crazy homeless guy, he's pretty ripped," Darcy quipped, her voice cutting through the tension with her usual playful irreverence. There was a glint in her eyes as she glanced between Thor and Dawn, clearly picking up on the unspoken attraction simmering beneath the surface.
Thor, oblivious or perhaps indifferent to the effect he was having, approached the group, holding up the T-shirt Jane had given him. Jane, who had just noticed the peeling sticker on the front, blushed furiously and quickly tore it off. The sticker read: "Hello, my name is Dr. Donald Blake."
"He's, um... my ex," Jane stammered, her voice tinged with embarrassment. "Those were the only clothes I had that would fit you."
Thor accepted the shirt without a word, pulling it over his head in one smooth motion. Once dressed, he began to roam the lab with an air of curiosity, his eyes lingering on the various schematics, drawings, and photos tacked onto the walls. It was as if he was searching for something—perhaps a memory, a connection, or even an answer that had eluded him since his arrival.
He paused in front of a collection of storm photos that Darcy had pinned up. The images captured the swirling clouds from the previous night, violent and otherworldly, with a single central figure caught in the chaos—Thor, descending like a myth brought to life.
"What were you doing in there?" Dawn asked, her voice cutting through the silence as she approached him, her finger pointing towards the central picture where Thor's silhouette was unmistakably visible amidst the storm's eye.
Thor studied the image for a moment, his face impassive before offering a casual shrug. "What does anyone do in the Bifrost?" he replied, his tone dismissive, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.
"Bifrost?" Dawn echoed, her brow furrowing as she glanced at Jane, who had already begun jotting down notes in her ever-present notebook. The word stirred something in Dawn, a vague sense of recognition, a distant echo of stories she had once read or heard. Why did it feel so familiar? And why did Thor speak of it so nonchalantly, as if it were as ordinary as the air they breathed? The more she thought about it, the more elusive the answer became, hovering just out of reach, taunting her with its proximity.
"It is staring you in the face," Skjolder's voice suddenly whispered in her mind, its presence like a shadow lurking at the edge of her consciousness. But it offered no further explanation, only deepening her frustration.
Thor, seemingly indifferent to their growing curiosity, shifted uncomfortably. "This mortal form has grown weak," he said, his voice tinged with annoyance as if his very existence in that moment were a burden.
Dawn exhaled softly, realizing that Thor wasn't going to provide them with the answers they sought—not yet. Whatever knowledge or insight he had, it would have to wait. Right now, it seemed more important to honor his request, to assist him in whatever way they could, and then hope that he would be more forthcoming.
She glanced at Jane, and their eyes met in a silent exchange. Jane understood immediately. There was no need for words.
"I can help with that," Jane offered with a small smile, her voice gentle yet determined. Turning to Selvig and Darcy, she added, "Let's head to Isabella's."
Isabella's
A short while later, the five of them found themselves squeezed into a cozy booth at the town's only diner. The warm, inviting scent of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon filled the air, mingling with the subtle hum of chatter from the other patrons. Thor's immense appetite quickly became the focal point of their table. The diner's staff had outdone themselves, delivering platter after platter of food—a mountain of steak and eggs, a towering stack of pancakes, a dozen biscuits drowning in thick, peppery gravy. It was a feast fit for a king—or a god.
Thor wasted no time. He dug in with unrestrained enthusiasm, scooping up mouthfuls of scrambled eggs and chasing it with a hefty gulp of coffee, the dark brew vanishing in an instant. "This drink," he proclaimed, his voice booming with delight, "I like it!" Without hesitation, he tossed the empty mug to the floor, the sharp sound of shattering ceramic echoing through the diner. Several heads turned, startled by the unexpected display, their conversations cut short as they stared at the spectacle unfolding.
"Another!" Thor bellowed, clearly unbothered by the stunned silence that had fallen over the diner.
Jane glanced around sheepishly, her face flushed with embarrassment as she caught the bewildered gaze of Isabella, the diner's owner, who stood behind the counter, wide-eyed and unsure of how to respond. "Sorry about that," Jane mumbled, her voice barely audible over the hum of confusion.
Dawn, ever the diplomat, stood up from the booth with a calm, measured grace. She approached Isabella; whose surprise was palpable. "You're the owner, right?" Dawn asked softly, her presence commanding attention without needing to raise her voice.
Isabella, still processing the commotion, gave a small nod. "Y-yes," she stammered, her eyes darting nervously between Dawn and the mess Thor had left in his wake.
Dawn smiled warmly, her expression radiating reassurance. "I'm the President and Chairwoman of Wayne Enterprises. Please, send the bill, including the cost of the broken mug, to our headquarters in Gotham. And," she added, her tone gentler now, "make sure to include a generous tip for yourself and your staff. I appreciate your patience."
The words hung in the air for a moment as Isabella blinked in disbelief. "Th-thank you," she managed to sputter, clearly overwhelmed by Dawn's unexpected generosity and poise.
Dawn offered a polite nod before returning to the table, her movements graceful, like she had just diffused a bomb without breaking a sweat. As she slid back into the booth, her eyes flickered towards Thor, whose expression remained one of innocent satisfaction. "What was that all about?" Dawn asked, her curiosity piqued by his strange behavior.
Thor looked at her as if the answer were obvious. "It was delicious," he explained simply, as though that justified the wreckage of a perfectly good mug. "I simply wanted more."
He sounded almost like a child—earnest and unfiltered, completely unaware of the social nuances he had just trampled over. There was an endearing quality to it, though, an innocence that made his antics less offensive and more... charming, in a strange, godly sort of way.
"Well, next time, just ask," Jane scolded lightly, her cheeks still tinged with embarrassment. She glanced at the shards of the mug, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of the tablecloth. "Politely."
Thor frowned, his brows knitting together in genuine confusion. "I just did," he replied, his voice low and perplexed, as though he couldn't understand why his request had caused such a stir.
Jane sighed, her exasperation giving way to a soft chuckle. "I meant you should ask politely," she clarified, smiling at him despite herself.
As Thor continued devouring his pancakes, the soft clinking of cutlery and murmurs from nearby tables formed a comfortable, almost homely backdrop to the diner. Outside, the late-morning sun spilled golden light across the town, casting long, sleepy shadows that seemed to stretch with the warmth of the day. Thor, absorbed in his food, was momentarily at peace, a god temporarily unaware of the tumult that followed him like a shadow.
The bell above the diner's entrance jingled, and in walked two familiar faces—Jake and Pete, local regulars with a reputation for spending a little too much time at the town's bar. Today, however, they seemed unusually sober, their steps steady as they slid onto the stools at the counter. Pete's scruffy beard caught the glint of sunlight as he lazily waved at Isabella before ordering two coffees.
"You guys missed all the excitement out at the crater," Jake boomed, his voice carrying effortlessly across the small space. The diner's relaxed atmosphere shifted as conversations paused, ears perking up at his announcement.
Pete nodded enthusiastically, eager to add to the story. "Yeah, they're saying some sort of satellite crashed out there," he chimed in, his words filled with exaggerated intrigue, as though he was recounting the latest gossip at the bar.
At the mention of the word "satellite," Selvig, who had been quietly sipping his drink and making notes on a napkin, suddenly straightened in his seat. The scientist in him couldn't resist. His curiosity piqued, he rose and crossed the floor toward the two men, his expression serious and intent. "What did it look like?" he asked, the question tinged with scientific eagerness.
Jake shrugged, his casual demeanor masking any real knowledge of the object. "Don't know nothing about the satellite," he admitted, swirling his coffee absentmindedly. "But it was damn heavy! No one could lift it. Whole bunch of people tried."
Thor's reaction was instant and explosive. His chair screeched across the floor as he shot up, the suddenness of his movement causing dishes to clatter and rattle on the table. Jane, startled, nearly spilled her coffee, while Darcy sat wide-eyed, her fork frozen halfway to her mouth. Thor's eyes blazed with intensity, his expression shifting from casual detachment to a barely-contained storm. Without a second's hesitation, he stormed over to Jake, towering over him, the air between them suddenly charged with a palpable energy.
"Where?" Thor demanded, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder, filled with such raw power that Jake instinctively recoiled, his bravado crumbling in the face of the god's imposing presence.
Jake, his bravado evaporating, gulped audibly, wide eyes darting to Pete for support. His voice wavered as he stammered out an answer, "Uh, about fifty miles west of here," he managed, clearly unnerved by the wild, fierce intensity in Thor's eyes. His hand trembled slightly as he reached for his coffee, though it was evident he was suddenly much less interested in drinking it.
Satisfied with the answer but with an urgent purpose now burning within him, Thor spun on his heel without a word, striding swiftly toward the exit as if every second of delay was a personal affront to him. "Come, Skjolder," he called, his voice echoing through the diner as if he were summoning a faithful companion into battle.
Dawn's eyes widened, and she exchanged a quick, bewildered glance with Jane. The sudden shift from a quiet meal to a race for some unknown artifact felt like the eye of a storm rolling in unexpectedly. With a silent understanding, she and Jane hurriedly followed him, their footsteps quickening as they tried to keep up with Thor's determined pace.
"Where are you going?" Dawn asked breathlessly, her brow furrowed in both worry and curiosity as she caught up with Thor's long strides. His entire demeanor had changed, from the casual diner guest to a warrior on a mission.
"To retrieve what is rightfully mine," Thor replied, his voice steady and filled with an undeniable certainty. There was something almost regal in the way he said it, as though he were a king reclaiming his throne. Yet as the words left his lips, he came to an abrupt halt, the fierce momentum of his steps faltering as he seemed to realize something crucial—he had no idea where he was going.
For a moment, his eyes softened, and he turned to face Dawn, his expression less commanding, more... pleading. He seemed to grapple with the limits of his mortal guise, acknowledging his current vulnerability with a humbling sincerity. "Skjolder," Thor said, his voice quieter now but still carrying the weight of his request, "if you guide me there now, I shall grant you all the answers you seek."
Jane raised an eyebrow, skepticism heavy in her gaze. "All the answers?" she asked, her voice tinged with cautious disbelief, as though she were weighing Thor's words against the absurdity of the situation.
"Yes," Thor affirmed confidently, his tone unwavering. "Once I reclaim Mjolnir." He spoke the name of his hammer with such reverence, it was as if the word itself held power.
"Mjolnir?" Jane repeated, her brow furrowing as she tested the unfamiliar word on her lips, trying to make sense of it.
Dawn couldn't help but smile at the mention of the legendary weapon. It stirred something within her, a memory from long ago, from tales of gods and heroes. She leaned closer to Jane, her voice soft but tinged with amusement. "Mjolnir is Thor's hammer. This guy must believe he's the real Thor."
As if on cue, the Skjolder's voice echoed inside Dawn's mind, resonant and sure. "He is."
Dawn sighed quietly, half-exasperated and half-amused. "Nightwing," Dawn addressed it firmly in her thoughts, "speak aloud for the others to hear. I know you can."
"Yes, Lady Dawn," came Skjolder's voice, this time not in her head, but aloud for everyone to hear, a deep, disembodied presence filling the room. The words hung in the air like a spellbinding echo. "I am Skjolder, an Asgardian artifact. I possess the knowledge bestowed upon me by my creator. The man before us is Lord Thor of Asgard."
The room fell into stunned silence. Thor stood taller, as if the mere acknowledgment of his title restored some fragment of his dignity. Jane's eyes widened in disbelief, while Selvig's expression shifted from confusion to open fascination. He looked around, as if trying to pinpoint the source of the voice.
"Where is the voice coming from?" Selvig asked, his scientific curiosity overwhelming his ability to process the strangeness of the situation.
Dawn, still coming to terms with the bizarre reality she was navigating, ran a hand through her hair. "I have no idea, to tell you the truth," she admitted. Then, she turned and pulled back her hair, revealing the silver sphere nestled at the base of her neck. Its smooth, metallic surface gleamed faintly in the light; a silent sentinel hidden in plain sight. "This is Skjolder," she explained. "Or as I call it, Nightwing. It grants me my abilities and summons the armor you've seen."
For a moment, Jane just stared at her, disbelief hardening into something more akin to concern. She shook her head, her grip tightening on the notebook she clutched to her chest. "Dawn, do you realize how all of this sounds?" Jane's voice was sharp, almost pleading. She was clearly wrestling with the absurdity of the situation. "It seems like an elaborate hoax, some trick to derail my research. I've been working too hard, gathering too much data for this. I'm sorry, but I can't help take this... Thor," she gestured towards him, "wherever he wants to go."
"I understand," Thor responded, his voice steady and resolute, yet there was an underlying weight to his words, as if he were preparing to embark on a journey with uncertain outcomes. "Then this is where I bid farewell."
Dawn felt a flicker of determination ignite within her at his words. "I'll take you," she offered, hoping to not only assist him but also to quell the growing sense of urgency that churned in her stomach. "My car is right over here."
With a nod of acknowledgment, Thor followed Dawn to her vehicle, the bright colors of the Wayne Enterprises – Foster Research Division building reflecting off his striking features. Once at the car, Thor took the passenger seat while Dawn slid into the driver's side, her heart racing slightly at the unexpected nature of this collaboration. The leather interior felt both foreign and comforting, a stark contrast to the monumental events that had transpired.
Dawn placed her cell phone on the dashboard, feeling a sense of authority as she prepared to connect with her sister and the ever-reliable Bruce. "Nightwing," she instructed, her voice firm. "Connect me with Buffy and Bruce."
In an instant, the phone came to life, and Buffy appeared as a hologram projected from the screen, ethereal and vivid against the backdrop of the car. Her sister's face glowed with familiar warmth, but a shadow of concern flitted across her features.
"Buffy, there's a reported satellite crash near here," Dawn informed her sister, urgency threading through her words. "I need to know its location." As she pulled away from the curb, the engine roaring to life beneath her, she failed to notice a group of black vans pulling into the parking lot of Jane's lab, their presence looming ominously in the periphery.
Several men emerged from the vans, their movements sharp and purposeful as they entered the lab. The sound of equipment clanging against metal broke the tranquil ambiance, as they began loading high-tech gear into their vehicles, heavy and serious. Just as Jane, Selvig, and Darcy returned to the scene, the tension escalated, igniting a sense of foreboding.
Jane rushed forward, her heart pounding in her chest and fists clenched tightly at her sides. The sight of the black vans sent a jolt of adrenaline through her. "What is happening here?!" she demanded, her voice sharp, echoing with authority yet tinged with confusion.
One of the men stepped closer, his demeanor surprisingly amicable, despite the intensity of the situation. He had thinning brown hair and an air of professionalism that made him stand out. Extending his hand, he introduced himself, "Ms. Foster, I'm Agent Coulson with S.H.I.E.L.D. We're investigating a security threat."
'S.H.I.E.L.D.? What the heck is S.H.I.E.L.D.?' Jane wondered, her mind racing. Is it a hidden branch of the FBI or CIA? Maybe? She shrugged mentally, pushing the absurdity of the name aside. Whatever it was, it sounded like it belonged in one of those fictional cop shows she sometimes watched in her downtime.
However, a nagging feeling nestled in her chest, a gut instinct that this had something to do with Thor's sudden arrival. The timing felt too coincidental, as if the universe was drawing threads between them, weaving a narrative that neither she nor her companions could fully comprehend yet.
"We need to secure your equipment," Coulson continued, his tone steady and authoritative, as if laying down the law. "As well as obtain all your atmospheric data."
"By 'secure,' you mean steal?" Jane snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. The blatant disregard for her and her team's hard work felt like a slap in the face. "We're on the verge of a significant breakthrough." She held up her notebook, its pages filled with intricate diagrams and meticulously recorded observations, as evidence of their dedication.
Coulson leaned down, picking up a box at his feet, and in a swift motion, he reached out and snatched the notebook from Jane's hand, placing it on top of the growing pile of equipment. "Thank you for your cooperation," he said calmly, the implication of his words hanging in the air like a threat disguised as politeness.
"Just so you're aware, this equipment," Jane emphasized, her voice rising slightly with indignation, "belongs to Wayne Enterprises." She couldn't shake the feeling that they were about to become victims in a much larger game.
"We are aware," Coulson replied, his calm demeanor unshaken.
"Did you also know that the President and Chairwoman of Wayne Enterprises, Dawn Summers, is just down the road? I can call her back," Jane suggested, trying to leverage the one advantage she might have in this situation.
"If it would ease your mind, go ahead. However, it won't hinder our operations," Coulson responded, his tone remaining annoyingly unruffled before he turned to leave the lab. Shortly after, the rest of the agents followed suit, their heavy footsteps echoing in the silence that hung in the air.
As the door swung shut, silence descended upon the lab, a heavy blanket smothering the remnants of what had once been a vibrant workspace. Jane, Selvig, and Darcy surveyed the devastation left in the agents' wake. Nothing remained but a few scattered papers pinned beneath thumbtacks and loose sheets of printer paper strewn haphazardly across the floor, testaments to their countless hours of labor.
"Years of research, gone," Jane uttered in defeat, her voice barely above a whisper, as if she were mourning a loss. "They even took our backups! They took the backups of our backups." The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on her shoulders, suffocating any lingering hope.
Selvig reached out a comforting hand, but Jane pulled away, feeling a swell of helplessness rise within her. She believed that no one could assist her, that they were trapped in a web of red tape and bureaucracy. However, just as despair threatened to swallow her whole, a glimmer of hope sparked within her as she glanced out the window and remembered Dawn.
With renewed determination, she swiftly moved to the phone and dialed her number, her fingers trembling slightly with urgency.
"Dawn Summers," Dawn's voice came through the line, bright and reassuring amidst the chaos.
"Dawn, it's Jane," Jane said, her voice laced with desperation. "Some government agents just confiscated our equipment." She could sense Dawn's exasperation on the other end, even without seeing her face.
"We're almost at the crater," Dawn reassured, her tone filled with conviction. "We're about to uncover the truth behind all of this. Don't worry; we'll retrieve your equipment."
Crater
As Dawn and Thor approached the crater, the setting sun cast a vibrant orange glow on the horizon, painting the landscape in warm hues that contrasted starkly with the encroaching darkness of the storm clouds gathering ominously in the evening sky. The air was thick with tension, a palpable energy that mirrored the stirring excitement in Thor. Dawn focused intently on navigating the rugged terrain, the tires finding purchase on the uneven ground, but she couldn't help stealing occasional glances at him. His demeanor radiated an infectious excitement, as if he were on the cusp of embarking on a grand battle, the kind that legends were made of.
Breaking the silence that stretched between them, Dawn decided to share a piece of her past. "I've been in situations like this before," she revealed, her voice steady despite the underlying nervousness.
"Was that before or after you melded with Skjolder?" Thor inquired, his curiosity piqued.
"Both," Dawn replied, her eyes briefly darting away to gather her thoughts. "I used to live in Sunnydale, California. If you know anything about Earth, you know it…"
"Has what you would call a Hellmouth," Thor interjected, a look of recognition dawning on his face.
"My sister is the Slayer," Dawn continued, her heart swelling with pride. "So, I grew up around the supernatural, watching my sister fight the forces of darkness." She paused, memories flooding back of the battles, the sacrifices, and the overwhelming sense of duty that had defined her childhood. "It wasn't until after we moved to Gotham that I began taking a more active role." Her voice softened as she shared a more painful chapter of her life. "In time, I was shot in the spine. The bullet severed it, leaving me paralyzed from the waist down. Skjolder was found sitting in a vault, along with notes about its ability to repair any injury. So, it was sent to my sister, who, after discussing it with me, had it placed at the base of my neck where it meets my spine, hoping for a miracle. And…"
"It merged with you," Thor interjected, his voice filled with awe and understanding. "Only someone of Asgardian descent or possessing immense power could have survived such a merging."
"Eighteen years ago, I didn't even exist," Dawn disclosed, her voice almost a whisper as she reflected on her origins. "I was created to house the Key, a powerful artifact. It was..."
"It was created prior to the Bifrost, as a means of traversing between Asgard and Midgard, as well as accessing other realms," Thor interjected once more, his gaze distant as if peering into the annals of history. "It served as a gateway to other places, even different realities."
Dawn nodded, her heart racing with the weight of their shared knowledge. "That's likely why I possess the power necessary to successfully merge with Skjolder," she remarked, her voice filled with a mixture of pride and uncertainty.
"Indeed, it is quite likely," Thor affirmed, his voice steady with the weight of his identity.
"So, you truly are Thor from Asgard," Dawn inquired, a mixture of awe and skepticism lacing her words.
Thor nodded, his expression turning serious. "You will see for yourself soon enough," he replied, diverting his gaze ahead, as if he were already visualizing the path that lay before them.
Dawn followed his gaze, her heart racing as her eyes widened in shock. They had arrived at the satellite's location. The ground sloped steeply down into the valley, and the remnants of the satellite were partially hidden from view. Parking her car with a swift motion, Dawn and Thor cautiously approached the edge of the valley ridge, where the world below unfurled like a map. They positioned themselves on their stomachs, peering down into the unfolding scene with the trepidation of explorers about to uncover a hidden treasure.
"Nightwing," she whispered, and as if responding to her call, her armor encased her, shimmering with a silver light. "Telescopic view."
Suddenly, the valley came into focus, revealing a dazzling array of bright lights that illuminated the area, cutting through the encroaching darkness of the night. The lights stretched high into the sky, casting long shadows over the rugged terrain and creating a stark contrast against the dusky landscape. Guard towers loomed ominously, manned by vigilant armed personnel who scanned the horizon for any signs of trouble. Others hurried about on the ground, their movements frenetic and purposeful.
At the center of the makeshift station stood a glass-walled command trailer, the hub of activity. As Dawn's gaze shifted, she caught a glimpse of something beyond it, partially buried in the ground—small and dark, the satellite lay like a fallen beast among the chaos. Massive tubes and wires snaked across the premises, connecting to makeshift offices, resembling a web of surveillance and secrecy. On one of the buildings, her eyes zeroed in on the unmistakable word: S.H.I.E.L.D., written in bold white letters, a signal of authority that sent a shiver down her spine.
"Retract," she commanded, and with a fluid motion, the armor retracted, returning Dawn to her normal state. The night air felt heavy around her, thick with anticipation.
Rising to his feet, Thor shrugged off his jacket and handed it to Dawn, the fabric warm from his body. "You'll need this," he said, the urgency in his voice palpable.
"Why?" Dawn questioned, her curiosity piqued as a distant rumble of thunder echoed through the desert sky, almost as if in response to Thor's presence.
"Stay here," he ordered, dismissing her question with a wave of his hand. "Skjolder is not required for this task. Once I have Mjolnir, I will return what they have taken from your friends." Thor locked eyes with her, his gaze fierce and resolute. "Deal?"
"No!" Dawn exclaimed, her voice rising in urgency. "Look at what's down there! You can't simply waltz in, grab their belongings and your hammer, and walk away!"
"No," Thor agreed, causing Dawn to relax momentarily, relief washing over her. However, he continued, his tone shifting, "I won't simply walk out. I shall take to the skies. Did you think Skjolder was the only thing gifted with flight? I must undertake this trial alone, Dawn. It is a test of worthiness. Only if I am found worthy can I reclaim Mjolnir."
Reluctantly, Dawn nodded, the gravity of the situation settling heavily on her shoulders.
Turning away, Thor strode forward, his form silhouetted against the darkening sky. As he descended into the valley, the first raindrops began to fall, plummeting from the heavens like a prelude to the storm.