Odin, as was his custom, delivered a brief rallying speech to his warriors.
Very brief. Not particularly rousing either.
It wasn't that he dismissed the gravity of war. Rather, while Asgard hadn't fought a large scale campaign in quite some time, small scale skirmishes were practically a daily occurrence.
Conflict simmered constantly across the Nine Realms. With the exception of Midgard, Jotunheim, and Nidavellir, the other realms saw battle almost every single day.
Asgardian warriors had no shortage of combat experience. The one person who truly regarded this upcoming battle with the utmost seriousness was, ironically, Odin himself.
It had been far too long since he had taken to the field personally.
Especially considering that his opponent this time was none other than his younger son.
The adopted child he did not favor, yet loved just the same.
With that heavy thought, Odin spurred his winged steed and flew toward the flagship designated for him and his legion commanders.
Asgard was no mere society of muscle bound brawlers. Their technology was equally advanced, particularly in the application of runic magic through scientific means and their mastery of light based energy systems. In those fields, they stood unrivaled across the cosmos.
After all, most other empires had pursued entirely different branches of technological development.
Once inside the flagship, Odin made his way to the command chamber. Through the viewport, he gazed out at the vast, majestic armada stretching before him.
A typical Asgardian light assault skiff required a crew of only two to seven operators.
Every three skiffs formed a single combat unit, and each unit was assigned at least one Berserker warrior to ensure sufficient ground combat capability.
One could only imagine the sheer number of skiffs and mid sized warships currently gliding through the skies above Asgard, aside from the logistical personnel manning the flagships. Over two hundred thousand Asgardian warriors stood ready.
The sight was nothing short of spectacular.
Just then, Lady Sif, standing not far from Odin, offered a respectful salute and asked softly, "My king, why has Thor not joined the muster? Has he…"
"He is on Midgard. He will arrive at the destination simultaneously with the fleet."
"Understood."
A faint smile unmistakably touched Sif's lips. The sight of a mere child of sixteen hundred years, still harboring such innocent anticipation and shyness toward love, brought a rare glimmer of warmth to Odin's own expression.
With that fleeting smile still gracing his features, he raised Gungnir, his mighty spear, just slightly.
In the next instant, an endless cascade of rainbow hued light surged forth like a celestial river, swiftly engulfing the entire fleet.
Meanwhile, on Midgard, inside a nightclub in Hells Kitchen, New York.
Thor was busy regaling local gang members with exaggerated tales of his exploits while graciously accepting enthusiastic kisses from an adoring fangirl.
Of course, Thor would never initiate such a thing. His heart belonged to Jane Foster.
But this was entirely the fangirl's doing. Just because Thor didn't return her affections didn't mean he had the right to stop her from expressing them, now did it?
At that precise moment, however, Thor suddenly sensed a familiar and overwhelming power.
In the very next second, he roughly shoved the fangirl away just as a pillar of rainbow light descended from above and enveloped him completely, whisking him away in an instant.
All that remained on the nightclub floor was a perfectly circular scorch mark, its pattern unnervingly precise.
The group surrounding the empty space snapped back to sobriety in an instant.
They exchanged glances, then nearly in unison sucked in a sharp breath of cold air.
"I can't believe it took me this long to realize… I've been drinking with an actual god for two whole days!"
"I kissed a god! Aahhh, this is insane!"
"We're people who've shared drinks and stories with a god now!"
"Wait a minute, that god wasn't even as strong as our boss!"
"So does that mean working for the boss makes us warriors of a god?"
"Hahaha, I love the sound of that! To the god's warriors, cheers!"
"Cheers!!!"
The atmosphere inside the nightclub instantly ignited. The raucous cheers gradually swelled into a single roaring wave of sound, loud enough to draw the attention of Heisenberg himself from his place within the New York Sanctum.
As he listened to the revelry of his subordinates, Heisenberg turned his gaze toward the projection conjured by the Ancient One.
On that projection, opposite Loki's Chitauri fleet stationed near the moon, a magnificently ostentatious Asgardian armada, resplendent in gleaming gold, had materialized in the void of space.
Watching this, Heisenberg murmured softly, "Odin is taking Thanos's forces seriously. Thor's been recalled. Let's hope the big guy still has the presence of mind to swing that hammer with the extra handprint on it."
"Wait, is that the Asgardian fleet? This is… unbelievable."
Hill responded absentmindedly, her tone carrying all the enthusiasm of a distracted yes man.
Her only desire at that moment was to leave and immediately throw herself into managing the impending Chitauri invasion.
She could only imagine the utter chaos currently erupting among the various nations of Earth.
But the more anxious she became, the more her perfunctory replies grated on Heisenberg's nerves.
Heisenberg furrowed his brow and cast a pointed look at both Hill and Natasha.
"Asgard possesses highly sophisticated large scale spatial translocation technology. Did you honestly believe a civilization with a lineage spanning millions of years wouldn't have its own interstellar fleet?
Clearly, your mind is anywhere but in this room right now.
Perhaps you're eager to take action against the war unfolding before us, but you fail to grasp that nothing you do could possibly influence the outcome of this conflict in the slightest.
So, given that humanity currently stands utterly defenseless against visitors from beyond the stars, why don't you calm yourselves, sit quietly, and patiently observe a war that surpasses Earth's own capabilities by at least several millennia."
His words struck home. Hill immediately understood that her half hearted participation would no longer be tolerated in today's discussion.
Because neither Heisenberg nor the Ancient One had any intention of allowing her, the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., to simply walk away.
But that didn't mean she would passively accept her fate. Composing herself, she replied earnestly, "I apologize for my obtuseness. But my heart truly cannot bear to sit idly by any longer.
An alien armada is stationed just beyond Earth's orbit. The fate of every human on this planet hinges on their next move. Whether or not I possess the power to retaliate, I must return to my post. S.H.I.E.L.D. needs me."
"But the crux of the matter is that nobody needs your goddamn S.H.I.E.L.D.!"
Heisenberg cut her off without mercy. Extending a finger toward the projection of Odin's flagship, he continued.
"That vessel there is likely Odin's personal flagship. As the reigning All Father of Asgard, Odin has safeguarded the Nine Realms, and by extension Earth, for over five thousand years.
Long before humanity even existed, Odin's ancestors upheld dominion over the Nine Realms just as he does now, continuously repelling any enemy foolish enough to attempt invasion.
So you must face the truth. In the face of the war currently at our doorstep, your arrogance and pride are as insubstantial as empty air. Utterly useless.
Yes, you are the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.
And even after being fractured by Hydra, S.H.I.E.L.D. still ranks among the top three non governmental armed organizations on the planet.
But allow me to douse you with a bucket of cold reality, Hill. You can offer absolutely no meaningful assistance in this war."
As he spoke, Heisenberg raised his right hand.
A moment later, an open bottle of bourbon materialized in his grasp. His favorite.
Why bourbon? Because before his transmigration, he had been a huge fan of the John Wick films starring Keanu Reeves. And John Wick's drink of choice was bourbon.
Bottle in hand, Heisenberg exchanged an amused glance with the Ancient One before gesturing toward Wanda and Pietro.
"The children should have something to drink as well."
"Mhm."
The Ancient One nodded. Instantly, two bottles of Wahaha, a popular children's yogurt drink, appeared in the twins' hands.
Unable to read the Chinese characters on their drinks, Wanda and Pietro naturally had no idea what the label said.
But they were intimately familiar with the concept of a straw.
And so, after a brief moment of initial excitement, the two children sat quietly, contentedly sipping their Wahaha.
The scene was strangely, almost absurdly harmonious.
Heisenberg couldn't help but laugh.
Once his amusement subsided, he pointed back at the projection and addressed Hill once more.
"Let me be perfectly clear, Hill. You and your S.H.I.E.L.D. will join my organization.
Do not mistake my insistence for mere tyranny. Offering you a place among us is, in fact, the greatest mercy I can extend.
If you need to ask why, then simply gaze upon the Chitauri fleet hanging in the void of space.
Relying solely on your own human efforts, you likely wouldn't be capable of sending a significant human presence beyond this planet until the year twenty one twenty at the earliest.
And the time required to build and sustain a fleet of that magnitude would push that timeline back by another century, if not several.
Now, do you finally understand the nature of the opportunity I've brought you here to witness?"
Heisenberg paused, draining the entire bottle in one long pull.
Then, he offered both Natasha and Hill a cryptic smile.
"Look around you, friends. This is the Ancient Sanctum, an order of primordial guardians that has existed for over two thousand years.
This is the oldest Earth based protection organization capable of standing toe to toe with Asgard, the very group that wrested Midgard's extraterritorial autonomy from Odin's grasp.
This is the ancient temple that reached an accord with Asgard, dividing their responsibilities: Asgard handles biological threats from beyond the Nine Realms, while the Ancient Sanctum confronts demonic incursions from other dimensions.
Within these hallowed walls, the wails of countless vanquished dimensional horrors still echo.
And it is precisely this ancient and noble order that is offering you a chance to glimpse the truth and accept reality as it is.
Yet your only concern is returning to your own little fiefdom, contacting your equally backward and feeble kin, and orchestrating some heroic, tragic last stand where you can bask in the glory of futile sacrifice?"
"I…"
"Keep your mouth shut, esteemed Director of the so called Shield. You claim to defend the Earth, yet in truth, you protect nothing at all.
Even now, you still have no real understanding of why this war is truly being fought, do you?
Or perhaps you've guessed, but your hearts refuse to accept it.
Allow me to enlighten you then, oh great and mighty Madam Director.
The Tesseract is the Space Stone. This much you should have already gleaned from your encounters with the future Captain America and Iron Man.
It was your own organization's research into and exploitation of the Space Stone that broadcast its unique signature across the entire cosmos.
By activating the energy of the Space Stone, Earth essentially declared itself ready for war. You sent an open invitation to conflict to the entire universe.
Tsk. This is S.H.I.E.L.D. for you. Bold enough to toy with one of the most precious artifacts in the known universe, all while lacking the basic capability to even step foot beyond your own planet.
Your competence may be lacking, but your audacity is truly breathtaking. I'm almost impressed."
Heisenberg finished with a cold, sardonic laugh. His words caused both Hill and Natasha to flush with a mixture of shame and indignation.
Had they known that the Tesseract could invite such calamity, they would never have dared lay a finger on that accursed Pandora's Box.
But wasn't that just human nature? Until they truly felt the sting of pain, they remained stubborn, obstinate, and brimming with overconfidence. They were creatures who refused to turn back until they had smashed headfirst into a brick wall.
Even now, pushed to the brink, Hill still hesitated to pledge S.H.I.E.L.D.'s allegiance to the Justice League.
She was worried. She was uncertain. Yet she clung desperately to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s damnable independence and autonomy.
It was as if freedom and self determination were the most sacred values humanity possessed.
But in truth, what shred of genuine freedom or true independence remained in modern human society?
/-\
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