The commotion drew every S.H.I.E.L.D. agent in a three-mile radius.
Coulson was the first through the door, and when he saw the wrecked holding cell—walls cracked, dust still drifting—he froze.
"What the hell happened here?"
Darren pointed casually to the unconscious man on the floor, his illusion gone. "Caught another intruder. Says his name's Loki."
Coulson just stared at him. "…"
First a guy claiming to be the God of Thunder, now another calling himself the God of Mischief.
What was next—the All-Father himself showing up for family therapy?
Still, when he reviewed the security footage and saw Loki using actual magic, Coulson's skepticism started to waver. His expression hardened. "Looks like this is bigger than we thought. I'll need to call in reinforcements."
Moments later, the agents secured Loki in restraints and locked him up—with Thor, naturally.
Thus, the two divine brothers found themselves as cellmates.
Thor, surprisingly, didn't seem to mind. He actually looked cheerful about it. "Ah, at least I won't be lonely!"
Loki, for once, didn't have a comeback—he was too busy pretending to still be unconscious.
News of Loki's appearance and his magic reached S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters within the hour.
Nick Fury immediately escalated the situation to Level 1 priority and deployed more agents to New Mexico.
Among them: one very annoyed sharpshooter.
[NPC: Clint Barton]
[Codename: Hawkeye]
[Favorability: 40]
[Profile: Team Mascot of the Avengers. 100% Accuracy. 100% Teamfight Winrate.]
"So," Clint grumbled as he slung his compound bow over his shoulder, "someone wanna explain why a guy on his first vacation in five years just got dragged halfway across the world for overtime?"
He looked like a man ready to shoot his boss—if his boss didn't already have a reputation for surviving worse.
Coulson, ever the diplomat, sighed. "We've encountered an extraterrestrial artifact—and two possible alien lifeforms claiming to be Norse gods."
Clint blinked. "I miss one week, and suddenly we're the Men in Black?"
Before he could keep complaining, a familiar voice called out, "Hey, long time no see, Barton."
Clint turned—and groaned. "Oh no. Not you."
It was Darren. The one man in S.H.I.E.L.D. who could make Hawkeye feel underarmed.
They'd met before—under "friendly competition."
It had started simple: two expert marksmen, one target several hundred meters away. Whoever hit faster and cleaner won.
The timer beeped.
Clint's arrow left his bow—a perfect shot, dead center.
He looked smug for about two seconds… until the entire target exploded in a fireball.
Because Darren had pulled out a rocket launcher.
"Technically a long-range precision weapon," Darren had said afterward. "Just… large caliber."
Clint hadn't challenged him since.
With Hawkeye now guarding the site, Darren went back to his favorite routine: doing absolutely nothing.
Lying on his chair beside Mjolnir, flipping through comic books, occasionally chatting with Thor about Asgard and the wider universe.
From Thor's rambly storytelling, Darren pieced together quite a bit:
There were Nine Realms, all connected through the branches of Yggdrasil—the World Tree. Each realm was its own world, existing in a delicate balance.
Midgard (Earth), Asgard (Thor's home), Jotunheim (Land of the Frost Giants), Nidavellir (the Dwarves' world)… and many more.
Crossing between them normally required powerful trans-dimensional artifacts—like Asgard's Bifrost, the Rainbow Bridge.
Of course, the universe extended far beyond the Nine Realms, full of alien empires, creatures, and powers.
It was, in short, a massive open-world map.
"System," Darren asked suddenly, eyes gleaming, "these other realms… can I explore them too?"
[Affirmative. All regions are open-access. The player may freely explore any world.]
Darren grinned. "This game just keeps getting better. I thought you were gonna pull a 'This area will open in future updates' line."
Night fell.
Darren was midway through another chapter of One Punch Man when his comms crackled again.
"Darren," Coulson's voice came through, grim. "Loki's escaped."
Darren snapped the comic shut. "What?"
He rushed to the holding area—where Coulson and Clint were waiting, faces tense.
"What happened?"
Coulson frowned. "He woke up not long ago. Before we could interrogate him, he used some kind of magic and vanished. Just—gone."
"And Thor?"
Coulson's gaze shifted to the remaining cell. "Still here. But… something's off."
Darren stepped inside.
Thor stood in the middle of the room, motionless. His shoulders slumped, eyes empty.
Darren frowned. "Thor? You good?"
Thor didn't look up. "Loki has returned to Asgard," he said hollowly. "He told me… it's my fault."
"Your fault?"
"Yes." Thor's voice quivered. "Because of me, Asgard and Jotunheim went to war. Father… died because of my arrogance."
Darren rubbed his temples. "And he didn't take you with him?"
Thor shook his head. "Loki said he made peace with the Frost Giants. But… the condition of the treaty was my eternal exile in Midgard."
Darren arched a brow. "Didn't you tell me you're the heir to the throne?"
Thor's shoulders sagged further. "Not anymore. Mother has already given the crown to Loki. He… he's king now."
Darren squinted. "And who told you that?"
"Loki," Thor said immediately.
"Of course." Darren stared at him for a moment, expression unreadable. "And you didn't think to question that?"
Thor looked at him earnestly. "Why would I? Loki would never lie to me. He told me he led Asgard's army into Jotunheim—seven campaigns, seven victories—slaying millions of Frost Giants before forcing their king, Laufey, to surrender."
Darren blinked slowly.
"…Millions?"
"Yes!" Thor nodded solemnly. "He must have fought bravely indeed."
Darren took a deep breath. Okay. That's it. This man's brain is just protein powder.
"Thor," he said carefully, "doesn't that sound a little… exaggerated to you?"
Thor thought for a long moment, then his face lit up with sudden realization. "You're right! There aren't that many Frost Giants in Jotunheim! Loki must've miscounted!"
Darren just stared at him. "…Right. That's definitely the issue."
He turned and muttered under his breath, "Yeah. He's gone. No saving this one."