Chapter 3: Captured
August 3, 2018 – Friday
Crater
Dawn caught sight of an ATV, its bright lights piercing through the darkness as it moved across the site, the spotlight fixated directly on Thor. The harsh beams of light created an almost surreal atmosphere, casting sharp shadows that danced across the ground. "Nightwing," she called out, her voice steady despite the chaos unfolding before her. Instantly, her armor encased her once again, the familiar weight settling around her, offering a sense of power and protection.
With Nightwing's enhanced vision, she observed intently as the ATV driver raised his radio to make a report, his expression a mixture of determination and anxiety. Time seemed to slow as she watched Thor's movements with a predatory focus. He seized a rifle from the ground, his fingers deftly gripping it as he effortlessly twirled it in the air, the weapon glinting under the lights like a thrown challenge. With a powerful swing, he hurled the rifle like a hammer, and it soared through the air with a deadly grace, shattering the ATV's spotlight in a brilliant explosion of glass and metal.
In that instant, chaos erupted. Glass and debris rained down upon the driver, who instinctively shielded himself, his panic evident as he momentarily lost control of the vehicle. The ATV careened wildly past the guards stationed near the entrance, their expressions morphing from surprise to alarm as they swiftly pursued the erratic vehicle.
With fear flickering in his eyes, the ATV driver desperately attempted to regain control as the vehicle approached the edge of the crater. Dawn's breath hitched as she watched the ATV hurtle over the lip of the crater, the world seemingly spinning in slow motion. It headed straight for a plastic tunnel, its path an unyielding force. Inside the tunnel, technicians scattered like startled insects, their hearts racing with adrenaline as they reacted to the imminent threat. The ATV crashed into the tunnel with a bone-jarring impact, tearing through it and sending sparks flying in all directions, illuminating the chaos around them in a fiery display. Finally, it came to a halt, buried beneath the collapsing debris, alongside the driver, who was trapped in a cocoon of wreckage and shattered plastic.
Nightwing observed Thor swiftly entering the building, his figure a beacon of strength amid the unfolding chaos, pursued by the relentless S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel. Dawn felt a surge of anxiety, knowing she couldn't assist Thor in her Nightwing form. She needed to adapt her approach—perhaps as Dawn Summers, she could still play a crucial role in this unfolding drama.
"Retract," she commanded, and the armor receded, leaving her feeling momentarily vulnerable yet resolute. She quickly gathered herself, her mind racing with possibilities and strategies. Without wasting a moment, she made her way to her car, her heart pounding with determination. To make her plan convincing, she needed to approach the crater from the front entrance.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Next to Mjolnir, Thor stood with an unwavering confidence that radiated from his every pore, his stature a testament to his Asgardian heritage. He reached out to grasp the legendary hammer, the air around him thick with anticipation and charged with energy. Above him, Coulson observed with an unyielding gaze, his eyes sharp and calculating, fixed intently on Thor's every move. Behind Thor, armed agents closed in, their presence a looming threat, but Coulson signaled for them to hold their positions, sensing the tension in the air.
Keying his radio, he spoke, "Barton, hold your fire," his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of urgency. He watched Thor with an intensity that belied the seriousness of the situation, aware that this moment was critical, not just for Thor but for all of them. The Asgardian wrapped his powerful hand around the hammer, his fingers curling around its familiar handle, a sense of destiny coursing through him.
Thor smiled, a triumphant expression lighting up his face as he attempted to lift Mjolnir. However, to his confusion, the hammer remained unmoved, stubbornly anchored to the ground as if mocking his efforts. He stared at it, perplexed, brow furrowing in concentration, and tried again, this time using both hands. His muscles tensed, straining under the effort, and he let out a scream of exertion that resonated across the stormy landscape, mixing with the howl of the wind and the crackling lightning above.
As he struggled, glowing runes materialized on the surface of Mjolnir, shimmering with an ethereal light. Thor's gaze shifted downward, fixating on the radiant symbols that danced across the hammer, each one a testament to the weight of his failure. In a moment of profound realization, he fell to his knees before Mjolnir, the world around him fading into a blur as he was consumed by his thoughts. The luminous symbols gradually faded away, leaving behind an empty silence that felt heavier than the pouring rain.
Thor understood then that he had failed, that he was deemed unworthy. A feeling of despair washed over him, a crushing wave of defeat that threatened to drown his very spirit.
Coulson let out a sigh, his disappointment palpable in the thick air. "Ground units, proceed. The show is over," he commanded, the weight of authority heavy in his voice. The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents moved in, their weapons trained on Thor, surrounding him like a pack of wolves encircling their prey.
Unaware of the approaching agents, Thor remained lost in his own thoughts, seemingly unaffected by their presence. He knelt there, head bowed, as the rain continued to pour down upon him, each droplet a cold reminder of his isolation. In that moment, he felt utterly shattered, like a broken man stripped of his identity and purpose, the storm raging above a mirror to the tempest within him. The world faded away, leaving only the bitter taste of unworthiness lingering in his soul, as he grappled with the weight of his failure and the crushing reality of his situation.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Seated in a chair that felt more like a prison than a place of interrogation, Thor's gaze remained fixed ahead, the weight of his situation pressing down on him like an unbearable storm cloud. His hands, restrained tightly behind him, reminded him of the constraints of his current reality, a stark contrast to the freedom he had once known as a prince of Asgard. Across from him, Coulson observed with a steely determination, his expression a blend of professionalism and something deeper—perhaps curiosity mingled with respect.
"It's quite a feat what you've accomplished," Coulson remarked, his tone tinged with a mix of admiration and frustration that added an edge to his words. "You made us all look like a bunch of amateurs. That stings." He leaned back slightly, his posture relaxed yet poised, as if he were weighing the gravity of Thor's actions. "The men you effortlessly subdued are highly skilled professionals," he continued, letting the implications of his statement hang in the air. "In my experience, it takes someone with similar training to achieve what you did. Care to share where you received your training?" He paused, allowing the silence to stretch, eagerly awaiting a response, but Thor remained silent, his pride holding him back.
"Pakistan? Chechnya? Afghanistan?" Coulson speculated, his voice dripping with a mix of mockery and genuine interest. "Or perhaps you're more of a soldier of fortune, the type who frequents South Africa? Certain groups pay handsomely for a skilled mercenary. Especially HYDRA. So, who are you?" His questions were like arrows aimed at Thor's defenses, probing for weaknesses, but they bounced off without leaving a mark.
"Just a man," Thor calmly replied, his voice steady despite the turbulence swirling within him. The simplicity of his answer held a weight far beyond the words themselves, a declaration of his identity that transcended earthly conflicts and earthly realms.
Coulson sighed, almost imperceptibly, as if recognizing the futility of pressing further at that moment. He leaned closer to Thor, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "One way or another, we will find out what we want to know. We're good at that." With that, he turned and left the room, the door closing with a soft click that echoed in the sudden stillness, leaving Thor alone to grapple with his thoughts and the tumultuous emotions churning inside him.
"I thought he'd never leave," came a familiar voice, piercing through the fog of Thor's contemplation. His attention snapped to the source, his heart racing as he looked up in disbelief to find his brother Loki standing before him, clad in earthly attire that seemed oddly out of place.
"Loki? What are you doing here?" Thor questioned, the surprise lacing his voice mingling with concern.
"I had to see you," Loki replied, his expression tinged with a mix of sadness and concern that sent a chill down Thor's spine.
"What has happened? Tell me! Is it Jotunheim? Let me explain it to Father," Thor pleaded, a desperate urgency clawing at his chest as he searched Loki's eyes for answers, for hope, for anything that could salvage their shattered world.
"Father is dead," Loki delivered the news with a heavy heart, the words hanging in the air like an ominous shroud. The gravity of Loki's revelation struck Thor like a physical blow, the world around him spinning as the weight of loss settled in.
"What?" Thor asked, his voice a mixture of disbelief and rising anxiety.
"Your banishment, the looming threat of war—it proved too much for him to bear," Loki explained, his voice laced with remorse that seemed to hang heavily in the air. Each word felt like a dagger, slicing through the veil of Thor's hopeful ignorance, revealing a truth he had been unwilling to confront.
The implications of Loki's words settled upon Thor like a suffocating weight, and he realized the heavy burden he now carried—the responsibility for his father's fate, a legacy of guilt that would haunt him forever. Memories of his father, Odin—his wisdom, strength, and the unwavering love he had always shown—flooded Thor's mind, intertwining with the ache of loss that gnawed at his insides.
Loki approached Thor, locking eyes with him, offering a hint of solace in the form of brotherly understanding. "You mustn't blame yourself. I know you loved him," he said softly, attempting to bridge the chasm that had grown between them. "I tried to convey my feelings to him, but he would not listen. It was cruel to dangle the hammer within your reach, knowing you could never lift it."
Thor's grief swelled within him like a raging storm, a tempest of emotions swirling and crashing against the walls of his heart. He stared ahead, the emptiness of the room mirroring the void within him, his sorrow consuming him. Mjolnir had deemed him unworthy, a judgment that now felt intertwined with his father's death, leaving him to bear the weight of both failures upon his shoulders.
"The throne's burden has fallen upon me now," Loki informed Thor, the admission ringing with a gravity that underscored their current predicament. It was a role Thor had never wanted for his brother, a responsibility that would change him irrevocably.
"Can I come back home?" Thor inquired, a glimmer of hope flickering in his eyes, fragile and easily extinguished.
Loki sighed, his expression pained, the corners of his mouth twitching downwards as he considered his brother's plight. "The truce with Jotunheim is contingent upon your exile," he revealed, the finality of his words leaving no room for negotiation.
"But can't we find a way to—" Thor began, his voice filled with desperation, as if the very air around him thickened with his need for reconciliation.
"Mother has forbidden your return," Loki interjected, his voice firm yet tinged with regret. He watched as Thor nodded, defeated and broken, the light in his eyes dimming with each passing moment. "This is goodbye, brother. I am truly sorry," Loki whispered, the weight of their shared history hanging heavily between them.
Thor lowered his head, the enormity of his spirit's shattering crashing down upon him like the weight of a collapsing star. Loki's words echoed in the desolate room, reverberating off the walls and settling deep within his heart. "No, I'm sorry. Loki... thank you for being here," he responded, his voice tinged with gratitude, a fragile acknowledgment of the bond they still shared amidst the chaos.
"Nothing could have prevented me from coming," Loki assured him, his sincerity shining through like a beacon in the midst of darkness. The weight of his words settled heavily in the air, forging an unspoken bond between the brothers, even as the distance between them loomed larger than ever.
As if summoned by fate, Coulson reentered the room, his presence imposing and authoritative as he walked past Loki without acknowledging his presence. The agent's focus remained solely on Thor, his expression inscrutable, a mixture of determination and curiosity swirling behind his sharp eyes.
"Farewell, brother," Loki bid his farewell, the words a bittersweet echo as he began to fade from sight, leaving Thor with a sense of both hope and despair. The space where Loki had stood felt empty now, a reminder of the connection that had been severed, yet lingering in the air like a half-remembered dream.
"Goodbye," Thor replied, his gaze lingering on the spot where Loki had stood just moments before, as if he could will his brother back into existence. A myriad of emotions coursed through him—regret, longing, and an overwhelming sense of loss. He felt as if the walls of the room had closed in, amplifying the silence left in the wake of Loki's departure.
"Goodbye?" Coulson echoed, his curiosity piqued as he noticed Thor's bewildered expression. It was clear that something significant had transpired, and he was keen to uncover the details. "I've only just returned. Now, where did we leave off?" he questioned, a slight edge to his voice as he sought to resume their interrupted conversation, unaware of the emotional turmoil that lingered in Thor's heart.
At that moment, another S.H.I.E.L.D. agent entered the room, his footsteps brisk and purposeful, drawing Coulson's attention to him. "Sir... he has a visitor," the agent announced, gesturing toward Thor with a mix of urgency and importance.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Coulson and several other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents stood opposite Dawn; their expressions serious, mirroring the tension in the air. The room was charged, each agent poised for action, ready to respond at a moment's notice. "Donald Blake?" Coulson inquired, his tone probing, searching for cracks in Dawn's confident facade.
Dawn's lips curled into a confident smile, radiating an unshakeable poise. "Doctor Donald Blake. He's a valuable member of the Foster Research Division at Wayne Enterprises," she stated, her voice unwavering, as if she were delivering an undeniable fact rather than a statement subject to scrutiny.
Coulson's eyes narrowed, the wheels of his mind turning as he assessed her words. "It seems you have some dangerous individuals working for you, Ms. Summers." His voice dripped with suspicion, each syllable laced with the weight of his authority.
Dawn's smile widened, reflecting an inner strength and defiance. "No, Mr. Coulson. It is you and your organization, S.H.I.E.L.D., that are the dangerous ones. After my employees informed me of the theft of Wayne Enterprises's property, I conducted some research." She straightened her posture, leaning slightly forward as if daring him to challenge her. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is a secretive organization established in 1942 by Howard Stark, Peggy Carter, and Colonel Chester Phillips to combat HYDRA. Since World War II, S.H.I.E.L.D. has been trying to recruit or apprehend individuals with superhuman abilities. It surprises me you didn't try recruiting my sister. Unless you knew what was under Sunnydale High and refused to help. Though I do know you have been trying to recruit a friend of mine, her wife, and her father. Yes, I know Faith Stark personally. Anyway, you, Mr. Coulson, are not only a highly trained combat expert, but also an expert marksman and tactician. Shall I continue?"
Coulson's gaze remained fixed on Dawn, unyielding and calculating. "No need," he replied curtly, though a flicker of intrigue sparked in his eyes. "But I am curious as to how you obtained such classified information."
"I am the President and Chairwoman of Wayne Enterprises," Dawn stated confidently, the weight of her title lending her an air of authority. "I have extensive contacts both within and outside the government. Plus, my sister and I have diplomatic immunity the world over for services we rendered over a decade ago. Let's just say that I possess valuable information. I even know the identities of Batman and Huntress, although I won't disclose that information to you. And yes, their deaths were orchestrated to allow them to lead normal lives." The assurance in her tone was palpable, a testament to her network and influence. "Through my connections, I have access to cutting-edge computer systems, including theirs. Now, here's the deal. You will release Doctor Blake and return all of Ms. Foster's equipment immediately. Otherwise, you and the entirety of S.H.I.E.L.D. will find yourselves facing a lawsuit for violating constitutional rights. You didn't possess a warrant to seize that equipment."
Coulson sighed, the frustration evident in the deep lines forming on his forehead. "Explain to me then, if Doctor Blake is merely a 'so-called' doctor, how he managed to bypass our security measures." His voice had taken on a challenging edge, demanding an explanation that would satisfy his curiosity.
Dawn's smile turned mischievous, the corners of her mouth curling upward as if she held a secret that would turn the tide in her favor. "That's simple. We are researching the replication of the Super Soldier Serum used to create Captain America. Doctor Blake willingly volunteered for the experiments. Naturally, there have been some side effects that we are currently addressing." She allowed the implications of her words to hang in the air, the idea of powerful experimentation swirling around them like an intoxicating haze.
Coulson contemplated Dawn's words, evaluating the situation and studying her closely, weighing her confidence against the uncertainty of their circumstances. "Very well. We will release Doctor Blake into your custody. However, ensure that he remains in town for the next few days in case we require further discussions." The authority in his voice was unwavering, a reminder that while he was conceding this battle, the war was far from over.
"Of course," Dawn replied with a confident nod, her resolve solidifying in the face of adversity. As she held Coulson's gaze, she felt a surge of determination coursing through her veins, knowing that this victory was only the beginning of a much larger conflict.
Wayne Enterprises – Foster Research Division
The following hours dragged on slowly for Jane, each moment stretching like a rubber band on the verge of snapping. The relentless ticking of the clock seemed to mock her impatience, every second magnified by the uncertainty of Thor and Dawn's return. Each gust of wind rattling the trailer or passing car outside made her jump with anticipation, her heart racing at the prospect of their arrival. She paced the cramped space, her thoughts swirling like the autumn leaves outside, filled with anxiety and dread about what might be happening out there.
Finally, Darcy, sensing Jane's growing agitation, insisted that she go to the trailer and get some rest. "You need to recharge, Jane," she urged, her tone both supportive and firm. "I'll make sure to wake you as soon as they're back." Reluctantly, Jane succumbed to the fatigue that had been creeping up on her, letting herself be enveloped by the arms of a fitful sleep that offered no comfort.
Suddenly, a loud knocking on the door jolted Jane awake, her heart pounding as adrenaline surged through her veins. Hurriedly, she swung the door open, revealing Dawn and Thor standing there, their silhouettes framed by the dim light of the moon. "You're back!" she exclaimed, her relief washing over her like a warm tide. She gestured for them to come inside, stepping aside to make way for Thor. Something about him seemed different, a noticeable change in his demeanor that sent a ripple of concern through her. His usual confident swagger was muted, replaced by a quiet intensity that made Jane wonder what had transpired during their absence to affect him in this manner.
Thor remained silent, his gaze fixed upon the night sky through the window, searching for answers that it couldn't provide. The silence in the room grew heavy, filled only with the distant sounds of the night, as if the world outside had paused to give them a moment of peace.
Dawn spoke up, breaking the stillness that had settled around them. "Your equipment will be returned in the morning," she informed them, her voice a soothing balm against Jane's lingering worries.
Jane's face lit up with gratitude, her heart swelling at the news. "Thank you, Dawn," she said, relief flooding her words. The thought of regaining her research, her lifework, lifted a weight off her shoulders, even if only slightly.
Finally, Thor's deep and somber voice pierced the stillness of the night, catching Jane off guard. "You all have shown me great kindness," he began, his tone resonating with sincerity and a hint of vulnerability. "I have not been as appreciative as you deserve." The weight of his words hung in the air, drawing Jane's attention fully to him.
In an attempt to lighten the mood and break the tension, Jane teased him playfully. "I did hit you with my car a couple of times, so I suppose that evens things out." She hoped her jest would coax a smile from him, and to her delight, Thor grinned and nodded, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. The glimmer of amusement in his eyes brought a small measure of warmth to the chill that had settled in the room.
Then, reaching into his pocket, he retrieved Jane's notebook and extended it towards her. "While Lady Dawn managed to persuade the men to return your equipment, I managed to retrieve this for you," he explained, his voice softening as he offered her the precious item.
Jane accepted the notebook, handling it delicately as if afraid it might vanish once again, her fingers brushing against the worn cover as if it were a fragile treasure. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with genuine gratitude, the weight of its return grounding her in the moment. But as she flipped it open and saw her notes, a shadow fell over her face, and concern filled her eyes, dimming her earlier joy.
"What's wrong?" Dawn inquired; her voice laced with worry as she noted the change in Jane's expression.
Jane's gaze shifted to Dawn, the worry clear in her eyes. "S.H.I.E.L.D.," she answered, her voice tinged with disappointment. "Despite your assistance, Dawn, I doubt they will ever allow this research to see the light of day." The reality of their situation settled heavily on her shoulders once more, the prospect of bureaucratic red tape and skepticism looming over her work like an ominous storm cloud. The passion she had for her research clashed against the harsh realities of the world they lived in, and Jane felt a familiar sense of frustration bubbling up within her.
"Don't fret," Dawn reassured her, her voice steady and calm as if she were a lighthouse in a storm. "Perhaps a visit from a friend of mine in the United Nations could persuade them to cooperate." Her words hung in the air, a glimmer of hope amidst Jane's spiraling concerns.
"Friend?" Jane asked, her eyebrows arching skeptically as she tried to gauge the truth behind Dawn's claim. The mere idea of a connection at such a high level felt almost too good to be true, and she couldn't help but wonder about the nature of this friendship.
"You don't become President and Chairwoman of a multi-billion-dollar company and not make friends," Dawn admitted, her tone light yet proud, hinting at the vast network she had cultivated. Her confidence was contagious, igniting a flicker of optimism within Jane that pushed back against the weight of her anxieties.
Thor interjected with a sense of urgency that resonated through the room like a clap of thunder. "You must see this through," he insisted, his tone brokering no argument. The intensity in his voice commanded attention, wrapping around them like a shield against the encroaching doubts.
Surprised by his urgency and unwavering confidence, Jane asked, "Why?" She tilted her head, trying to understand the depth of his conviction, which seemed to stem from something more than just personal desire.
Thor's response was simple yet profound, each word resonating with a weight that seemed to echo through the very fabric of the universe. "Because you are right. It has taken countless generations for your people to reach this point. You are on the cusp of a breakthrough. You just need someone to show you how close you truly are."
As he spoke, Thor moved closer, his presence filling the space with warmth and an inexplicable sense of safety. He gently took the notebook from Jane's hands, a delicate gesture that conveyed trust and camaraderie. Opening it to the image of what he referred to as the Bifrost, a smile formed on his lips, illuminating his face with a mix of nostalgia and wonder.