11
Strange
"Again."
Wanda sighed with frustration, wiped the dust from her armor and charged across the cracked floor. Kratos was waiting, the Nemean Cestus equipped. Maximov cast a red beam of energy, which Kratos easily dodged. The beam streaked across the room, warping a chunk of the far wall into a crushed heap of metal and concrete. She tried to follow Kratos' movement across the floor, but all she could see was a blur of red and grey. Her eyes widened as Kratos charged her. She put up a psionic shield and watched as the Cestus crashed against it. Her shield waned and broke, allowing Kratos' arm to reach her. Kratos pushed her to the ground with the Cestus. Wanda groaned with the impact. Her bruises ached and her ribs seemed determined to make her every breath sheer agony. Kratos stood over her. She closed her eyes as Kratos launched his fist towards her. As she waited for the inevitable impact, she felt a gust of wind press against her face. When she reopened her eyes, the metal surface of the Cestus' gauntlet was millimeters from hitting her nose.
"You are dead...again. What have I told you?! When you put your shield up, use it only as a method to counter-attack, not only for defense." Kratos grunted with disappointment. He unequipped a cestus and offered his hand to her. She pushed the hand away with a red blast, causing Kratos to stagger for a moment. Wanda pushed against the ground, blasting herself into the air on a cloud of red.
"Now, Vision!" Wanda yelled as she flew herself away from Kratos' reach. A yellow beam hit Kratos' helmet, causing the HUD to flicker. All Kratos could see was static.
"Warning." The helmet announced.
"I am aware!" Kratos grunted. He activated the missiles from his armor and fired in all directions while the HUD rebooted. He heard the rockets hit the walls and ceiling, then a grunt of pain, a clank of metal and a thud to the ground.
"Falcon!" Wanda yelled.
"It's okay, I'm fine, just keep the momentum!"
"Good, attack while I cannot see, to fight dirty is to survive!" Kratos said over the comms.
Kratos' HUD rebooted, just in time to catch Vision trying to land a punch. Kratos launched a Cestus at Vision's incoming fist. There was a crunch, and Visions' fist crumpled as it hit the gauntlet, followed by sparks as Vision's arm broke at the elbow. The broken pieces of the arm shattered and ripped off Vision's shoulder, sending shrapnel in all directions. Vision looked at the stump where his arm used to be, then back to Kratos, who had already thrown another blow. The punch sent Vision clear across the room into a pile of rubble, shooting dusk and rocks into the air.
"Okay, I think that's enough 'training' for one day." Steve's voice came over the intercom.
"They are not done!" Kratos yelled back. "Not yet."
"Just give us a moment to catch our breath!" Falcon groaned as he struggled to regain his footing, looking at the shrapnel embedded in his wing and his arm. Blood was already soaking his armor where the metal punctured his skin.
"Catch your breath?! Your enemies will not grant you such pause!" Kratos roared, pulling the Blade of Olympus from his belt. The blade appeared in a flash of blue from the hilt as he closed his hand around the handle. Kratos lunged at Falcon, closing the fifty-meter gap in milliseconds and slicing his left wing in half. Falcon winced as the cut wing glowed white-hot. Kratos gave him no time to react as he swung again. The blade barely missed as Falcon ducked and dodged, allowing his goggles to predict the directions of the blade, his expert acrobatics just barely keeping up with the massive weapon's movements. Falcon used what fuel remained in his jetpack to blast himself backward, pulling two SMGs from their holsters. Kratos tried to charge after him, but his feet were being held to the floor by Wanda's powers. Falcon took aim at Kratos and fired, his bullets bouncing off his armor without consequence.
"Falcon, if it didn't work once, it won't work this time." Vision muttered calmly over the comms, not looking away from his work as he used the energy beam from the stone in his forehead to solder his sparking arm socket.
"Look, all I have is a jetpack and guns, what does he expect out of us?!" Falcon replied.
"I expect you to learn! Clearly you have not!" Kratos replied.
"That's enough, Ghost!" Steve yelled over the speakers.
"And what will you all do when the might of the cosmos comes crashing down on you?!" Kratos roared. "Dodge and gripe?!"
Kratos' body began to glow with red fire. He ripped his feet free from Wanda's spell, then turned to face the tired and bruised Witch. She raised a weak shield against the charging god which immediately failed when he attacked. She fell back and hit the floor hard enough to knock the air out of her lungs. Kratos took a deep breath, trying to control his anger.
"Stop!" Falcon yelled, running up to Kratos. Kratos turned and held out his hands against Falcon's fists. He blocked the attack and pushed Falcon away with an open palm, shooting him across the floor and hitting his head against a rock. He turned to Vision, who was still sitting where he fell. Vision gave a shrug of dejection and shook his head.
"I'm done wasting my time, war god." Vision sighed.
Kratos looked around. The helmet displayed everyone's life signs. Wanda was stable, Falcon was unconscious but alive and in need of medical attention. His rage had finally fully left him, but his frustration remained.
"You all failed! For each one of you, your best advantage is flight, yet you do not use it. Use the environment to your advantage. Distract! Skirmish! Never charge in futile rage if you know your enemy can crush your skull! Witch, you have two hands to defend and attack with, so why do you only do one or the other?! And Vision…"
Kratos turned to the broken machine stuck in the rubble.
"You protect an infinity stone. Act like it. I promise the ones looking for it will not be as merciful as I was today."
Kratos left the training hall, leaving the others to drag themselves off the floor. The medical team ran past Kratos into the room to tend to the broken Avengers.
/
"You realize we need those three for a mission in two weeks, right?!" Steve argued across the desk to Kratos.
"Then perhaps you should recruit someone with healing powers," Kratos mumbled. "They won't learn, so they get hurt. They don't work as a team, they don't use their talents appropriately..."
"They can learn that without getting their arms crushed by a literal god," Steve sighed. "Do you know how much it costs to replace Vision's parts? I sure as heck don't."
"Whatever the cost, it is nothing compared to the tally this world will face when that stone is found."
"That can wait. We have things to worry about on Earth, and I need them ready for that."
"Then this world will burn, and its people will be crushed! All we have done will be for naught." Kratos said, his patience wearing thin.
"What makes you so confident we will fail?" Steve said.
"Because I have seen it!" Kratos yelled suddenly, smashing his fists into the desk and raising out of his chair. He looked down at the desk, the metal surface dented from his fists. He loosened his jaw and pulled his fists from the dents.
"With my own eyes." Kratos continued, trying to stay calm, leaning himself over the desk, looking straight into Steve's eyes.
Steve sat for a moment, processing Kratos' words.
"When?" Steve asked after a time.
"Years ago, after the attack on New York. I pursued the ones behind the attack. It led me to another world. That world was destroyed by the same soldiers we fought in New York. They were more capable and more ready than you are. They lost within hours. You are not ready. What can we do with a witch, a winged man, and a machine? That stone on Vision's head is their quarry...and they are coming for it."
Steve leaned back into his chair and lowered his eyes.
"What do you suggest we do?"
"I do not know."
The two men were silent for some time, both looking down.
"Sounds like something we can't prepare for. Not right now, anyway. In the meantime, don't kill my recruits, and don't scare them off. We need everything we can get, if you're right."
Kratos scowled.
"Fine."
Kratos stood up from leaning on the desk and headed for the door.
"Ghost," Steve called after him.
"What."
"Next time I say to stop the training, it's not to be your boss. It's to prove to the recruits that we listen to each other; that we're a team. As a fellow soldier, you know how important that is."
Kratos huffed. Memories of his past returned to him. The mission for the Ambrosia.
The Ambrosia slips away! I must go now.
If you leave now, you leave us to die!
I...never asked you to come with me...
Kratos looked away. Thoughts of the twisted faces of his fellow Spartans...
"Are you a loose cannon?" Steve continued. "Because right now, more than ever, we need the world to look at us and see heroes, not vigilantes. Question is...are you the man that beat Thor into the pavement in front of all of New York? Are you the man who raided an army base to interrogate a NATO prisoner? Are you a vigilante...or are you an Avenger? "
'Avenger'...What have you ever truly done to deserve that title? Rescue one woman and her child? Chop up some robots? Do you think that makes up for everything? You don't fit in here. Selfish and uncaring, always running off to run your own errands, always going alone when they needed you. What Avenger are you?
Kratos paused. Athena's voice pounding in his skull.
You know I'm right.
"I don't know," Kratos said finally.
That's right, disappoint another fellow soldier. Even after two thousand years, you are still a failure.
Kratos left the room, the door-closer hissing as the door sealed itself shut. Steve sat there, disheartened, unsure of what the future held. All he knew was to put one foot in front of the other, just like he always had. Just like those ruck marches from so long ago. He pressed the space button on his keyboard a couple of times. The screen booted up. Steve typed in his password, opened the S.H.I.E.L.D. database, and continued to read the file on Brock Rumlow.
/
Kratos barged into his quarters, mumbling to himself and pacing the floor. Mimir was sitting on the nightstand, eyes glued to the TV as reruns of Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives played.
"I shouldn't watch this stuff. Just makes me miss my stomach. Hey, you OK brother?"
"These fools don't understand their peril," Kratos grunted. "These recruits won't learn, they don't even try."
"Not everyone is fit for the Spartan teaching method, old friend," Mimir noted. "You told them about Xandar?"
"I told them."
"And?"
"They procrastinate still. Rogers believes his quest to eradicate Hydra bears more focus."
"Hmm…" Mimir sighed. "Wish I had an answer for that one."
"People are...difficult," Kratos stated, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples.
"That they are," Mimir replied.
The two sat in silence for a moment.
"So, now what, brother?" Mimir asked.
"I suppose we stay and help them." Kratos sighed.
"Really? I have to say, that is a bit out of character for you." Mimir said, his eyebrows raised in confusion.
"It is not. Athena still haunts my mind. She wants me to give up. In the words of the mortals..'Fuck'...Athena.
Mimir burst out laughing. Kratos raised an eyebrow.
"I'm...ohh…hoo!" Mimir said in between wheezes. "I'm sorry...I've just...never heard you swear...in all our years together!"
"Athena deserves it," Kratos said matter-of-factly.
"Did you hear that, you useless ascended hag?! Kratos isn't taking anymore of your...shenanigans!" Mimir yelled to the room. Suddenly, the TV flickered, the lights dimmed and the ground shook but for a moment.
"Oh, bah!" Mimir blurted, blowing a raspberry at the TV. "Complain all you want, Athena! You have no power anymore, so go...oh, I don't know..."
"Die." Kratos inserted.
"Yeah, sure, that. At least you thought of something." Mimir replied.
/
Kratos was once again surrounded by his burning village, blackened mortals rolling on the ground, squealing in agony, trying to put themselves out. He looked to the distance. He could see a large figure, blocked from view by flame and smoke.
YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD CHANGE ANYTHING BY TELLING THEM?
The figure came into view, blade in hand, golden armor glowing in the firelight. The gauntlet on the figure's hand was lit with six differently-colored stones; blue, red, orange, purple, yellow and green. His purple skin was coated with blood.
"Thanos."
THEY WILL ALL FAIL. THIS WORLD IS DOOMED, SPARTAN. I WILL LAUGH AS I WATCH IT DIE, AND IT WILL BE ALL YOUR FAULT!
"Athena...enough," Kratos whispered to the air as her words shook the leaves on the trees around him. He knew she wouldn't just leave, even if he wouldn't listen anymore. She had never left. She never will.
Thanos pointed his gauntlet at a group of cowering children. Kratos watched as they all began to lift off the ground, their screams of fear echoing through the burning landscape.
IF ONLY YOU HAD GIVEN ME THE HOPE WHEN YOU HAD THE CHANCE. IF ONLY YOU HAD LET ME RULE THEM, ALL THOSE YEARS AGO. I COULD HAVE SAVED THEM!
Athena's voice rose in volume and echoed as if the whole world spoke her words. Kratos tried to run toward the hulking alien, but his feet betrayed him. His movement seemed to only bring him farther away from his target. He watched helplessly as Thanos rotated the gauntlet to one side. The screaming children began to stretch and contort, their limbs slowly separating from their bodies. The children's screams turned to inhuman wails.
BUT YOU HAD TO RUIN EVERYTHING!
"Aaaand that's quite enough of that." A male voice said from behind Kratos. Suddenly, the horrorscape of Kratos' nightmare washed away like sand in the wind. He found he could move again. He turned to face the voice. Before him stood a tall man, dressed in robes and a red cape, a strange green medallion hanging from his neck. Kratos' first instinct was to pull his blades from his back.
"You can't hurt me in here, old man: this is the dream dimension, but please feel free to try." The man said confidently. Kratos, blades still in hand, scanned the man up and down.
"Who are you?" Kratos demanded.
"I'm the Sorcerer Supreme, but Strange works just fine. I'm sure a guy like you has no time for formalities."
"You are not the Sorcerer Supreme."
"Uh...yes. I am." The man said. His brows furrowed as he gave a confused chuckle.
"The Sorcerer Supreme was a woman."
"Oh, okay. I see the confusion here. Sorry to say she died about a year ago. So...hello. Nice to meet you. Sorcerer Supreme here."
"Hmm." Kratos replied. He returned his blades to his back. "What do you want?"
"Actually, It's about what you want." Strange replied.
"I am not in the mood for riddles," Kratos stated impatiently. "State your business, wizard."
"Fair enough. See, I hated riddles and cryptic statements too once, and here I am dishing them out. I guess it comes with the job. Hold tight."
With the speed of thought, Strange was directly in front of Kratos, pressing his finger to Kratos' forehead. Before Kratos could react, he found himself awake, standing alone in a dark room, surrounded by books. Kratos observed his surroundings. He was in a library of some kind, the books on the shelves ancient and weathered. He looked down. He was wearing his armor and was fully equipped with all his gear. He looked to his belt, where Mimir was attached and was slowly coming to.
"Odin's beard, I had the weirdest dream," Mimir said as he yawned. "Some bearded man touched my forehead and...oh."
Mimir's expression changed from drowsy apathy to concern.
"Wh- where are we?" Mimir asked.
"You are in the New York Sanctum." A voice said from behind. Kratos turned to see Strange, in the flesh.
"Ah, see? We finally made it here!" Mimir joked, but Kratos' scowl instantly curdled Mimir's joviality.
"You better have brought me here for a reason, wizard," Kratos warned.
"Don't insult my status, war god," Strange replied. "First of all, it's 'master of the mystic arts', not 'wizard'. Second, I'm a busy guy. You know, planning for the end of the world and all that. Of course I brought you here for a reason: your son."
Kratos paused. Why would the Sorcerer Supreme care about his son? Would this just be another reassurance that he would see him one day? Would this be another wild goose chase? How many times in the last 4 years had he been teased with reuniting with his one surviving family member? Too many times...
"Do not mention my son unless he is here," Kratos said, fists clenched, readying himself for the disappointment.
"Actually, he is. Thor made a special request." Strange said nonchalantly.
Kratos' fists clenched tighter.
"Show me. Now." He ordered.
"Fine by me. The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can get all these gods out of my home." Strange replied.
With a gust of air, Kratos found himself in another room that appeared to be the main lobby. The wooden staircase was well-varnished with a Tibetan theme, and crafted with the utmost attention to detail. The large room was adorned with ancient relics, seats, and bookshelves filled with worn scrolls and battered books. The sparsely-placed lamps provided enough light to see, but was dim enough to give an ambiance of mystery and calmness.
"Be right back. Wait here. Need anything to drink? A Lemnian wine maybe?"
"No." Kratos replied. Despite his objections, Kratos found his hand was holding a greek urn full of a sloshing liquid. There was a whooshing sound. Kratos looked up, but Strange was gone.
"You gonna drink that?" Mimir asked, looking fondly at the urn.
"No...yes." Kratos said reluctantly. He opened the cork of the urn and took a swig. Tasted just as good as he remembered it. He let out an audible sigh. Kratos could feel the eyes of his friend eyeing the urn. He looked down at the glowing eyes of Mimir, sighed, and lowered the urn to Mimir's mouth. The liquid poured past the Mimir's lips, and straight out from his throat onto the floor.
"Oh, mother of mercy...they don't make 'em like they used to," Mimir commented after licking his beard.
"No. They do not." Kratos agreed, irritably watching the wine as it spilled from Mimir's neck hole onto his foot.
Another whoosh of air, and Strange was back in the room, the orange glow of an incantation appearing from his hands. A thudding sound came from the staircase. Kratos turned his head just in time to watch Thor roll down the stairs to the floor. He was clothed as a mortal: jeans, boots and a canvas jacket. Thor immediately rose to his feet and looked at Kratos.
"Oh. Good, you're here," Thor stated. "I have a surprise for you."
Strange shot his spell into the air, and the spell expanded into a portal. On the other side, a field of grass could be seen.
"He's waiting for you," Strange declared as he looked at Thor. "Oh, and don't forget your umbrella."
"Oh yes," Thor responded as he held out his arm. The sound of breaking glass and books falling to the ground could be heard in the distance. The group awkwardly looked around as the sounds of breaking glass and splintered wood intensified. Kratos rolled his eyes.
"Sorry," Thor said only half-honestly. Finally, after a few seconds. Thor's umbrella came flying to his hand. Thor brushed the broken glass off of the umbrella and looked at Strange.
"I suppose I'll need my brother back." Thor noticed.
"Oh, yeah, right." Strange replied. He held his hand to the ceiling and spun his hand in a circular motion. A portal opened up above them and a screaming man dressed in black came falling through. With a violent thud, Loki hit the ground. He whipped his hair out of his face and caught his breath.
"I have been falling…for THIRTY MINUTES!" Loki yelled.
Kratos looked to the man on the floor.
"Atreus…"
"You can handle it from here," Strange said to Thor.
"Yes, thank you very much for your help," Thor said, shaking Strange's hand.
"Handle me?" Loki exclaimed as he rose to his feet. "Who are you?"
With a flick of his wrists, two blades appeared from Loki's sleeves.
"Loki…" Thor warned, holding out his arm.
"You think you're some kind of sorcerer?" Loki said as he approached Strange, blades in hand. "Don't think for one minute you second-rate amateur-"
"Alright, bye-bye." Strange blurted as he swung his arm. With that, the portal engulfed the three gods. Loki fell as he attempted to jump for the Sorcerer Supreme, but what met him was the cold ground of Norway.
The three gods found themselves surrounded by grass, the catacombs of Strange's sanctum was nowhere to be seen. In front of Kratos, a small portal reopened, and Strange's face popped out.
"Oh, by the way, we want that Blade of Abaddon back. If the Cultists of the Destroyer get it and replace it in Abaddon's hand, we are in a heap of trouble. You still have it, right?"
"No."
"What the hell do you mean 'no'?"
"Lost on Xandar."
"Dammit. She didn't tell you about Abaddon, did she?"
"No. She was cryptic about it."
Strange sighed.
"Of course she was. Another thing to worry about on top of everything else. Well...enjoy the reunion."
With that, Strange's head popped back into the head-sized portal and disappeared just as Loki tried to make another jump at him, only to once again hit the ground. Kratos looked down at Loki.
"Atreus, I-"
"Who is Atreus, and who are you, old man?!" Loki said as he got to his feet, blades still in hand.
"Loki...son..." Kratos said, with a softness he hadn't heard leave his mouth in what felt like millennia.
The three stood for a moment in silence.
"...Father?"