Emergency Global Conference - Continued
"Fury, I don't want to hear that 'hope' bullshit," one of the World Security Council members snapped, his face red with anger on the screen. "Give us some actual countermeasures. Tell us what we can do."
Sigh.
Nick slumped deeper in his chair, his face becoming more haggard by the minute. Dark circles under his eye had grown pronounced, and new lines seemed to be etching themselves into his skin in real-time.
"You don't seem to understand the seriousness of this matter," Fury said, his voice carrying the weight of absolute certainty. "So let me spell it out in simple language that even you can understand."
He leaned forward, staring directly into the camera. "There is nothing we can do that will change anything meaningful. We have to wait for Asgard's decision. That's it. That's our entire strategic playbook."
"What? That's ridiculous! Surely there are diplomatic channels, military options, something—"
"I don't know what exactly that green-skinned bastard Talos told you people about Asgard," Fury interrupted, his voice hard. "But I can guarantee you it was completely, utterly false. Deliberately misleading."
"From the captured prisoners we managed to save, we heard a completely different story than what the Skrulls provided," he continued. "According to the Skrulls' intelligence briefing, Asgard was supposed to be just a little stronger than Earth technologically. A minor advantage, nothing we couldn't overcome with numbers and creativity."
Fury's laugh was bitter, humorless. "But that is complete and utter bullshit. They're not some no-name civilization we can push around. Contrary to that comfortable lie, they are a fucking cosmic overlord."
He pulled up a file on his tablet, data compiled from the prisoner interrogations. "Like five thousand years ago, their previous king and the current king—Odin Borson—almost conquered the entire known universe. Single-handedly, with his daughter and his armies."
"They swept through realm after realm, defeated every force that opposed them, brought entire civilizations to their knees," Fury explained, his voice growing lower and more ominous. "And then... they just stopped. Pulled back. Went home."
"Do you know what that means?" he asked, letting the question hang in the air.
"Most of the dominant cosmic forces believe that they simply grew bored," Fury said. "Bored with conquest. Bored with war. They'd proven they could take everything, so there was no point in continuing. If they hadn't stopped, the whole universe would belong to them right now. Every planet, every system, every civilization—all under Asgardian rule."
Hearing this, everyone present in the virtual conference room felt their faces become as pale as they could possibly get. The blood drained from their features as the implications sank in.
"Fury... you mean..." the President started, unable to finish the sentence.
"Yes," Fury confirmed bluntly. "If they wanted to destroy us, if they decided Earth needed to be made an example of, there is absolutely nothing we could do to stop them. Nothing. Our nuclear arsenals, our conventional forces, Tony Stark's technology, the Hulk—none of it would matter against a civilization that conquered galaxies for fun."
"And more importantly," he added, twisting the knife deeper, "Earth technically belongs to them already."
"WHAT?!" Several exclamations sounded simultaneously from different screens.
"Yeah," Fury said before they could interrupt him again with panicked questions. "After they stopped their universal conquest, they retained control of nine planets, which they call the Nine Realms. Their protectorate, their territory, their responsibility."
"And yes, Earth is one of them," he confirmed. "We're called Midgard in their language. We've been under their nominal protection for millennia."
"Most of the time, they don't care about these planets," Fury explained. "As long as the realms don't rebel against Asgardian authority, they let them develop independently and run their own affairs. Hands-off governance. We do our thing, they do theirs, everyone's happy."
"But it's completely different when we attack them directly," he said. "When one of the Nine Realms commits an act of war against Asgard itself. That's rebellion. That's treason on a cosmic scale."
"So—" someone started to ask.
Before anyone could finish formulating the question, one of Fury's multiple communicators suddenly buzzed urgently on his desk.
Without thinking about protocol or permission, he directly picked it up.
"Boss, something happened!" a panicked voice came through. "The spacecraft has been attacked! Attacked by Skrulls inside the facility!"
"WHAT?!"
"Gentlemen and ladies," Fury said to the screens, already standing and moving. "It seems we have a developing situation. Please continue your discussion without me."
Without waiting for their response, without asking permission to leave his own emergency briefing, he directly cut the connection and left the communication room at a run.
SHIELD Base - En Route to Spacecraft Hangar
"Frank! What happened?!" Fury demanded while moving rapidly toward where the captured spacecraft was being held. "Give me details!"
His second-in-command fell into step beside him, tablet in hand, bringing up reports.
"Boss, approximately ten minutes ago, several Skrulls broke into the secure hangar area," Frank reported, his voice tight. "They killed several SHIELD agents in the process. Security personnel, scientists. At least seven confirmed dead so far."
"Sir, look at this," Frank said, handing over the tablet to Fury while they walked.
On the screen, security camera footage began to play.
The video showed the aftermath of the initial violence—bodies of SHIELD agents on the ground. Then the Skrulls moved directly toward the captured spacecraft with clear purpose.
And in front of Fury's eyes, right there on camera, one of the Skrulls transformed into a very familiar figure.
The dead Asgardian soldier. Perfect replication—armor, face, even the body language.
Although they hadn't installed cameras inside the spacecraft itself—a security oversight that now seemed catastrophically stupid—the external microphones still picked up audio from within.
"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" a voice screamed from inside, perfectly mimicking the Asgardian soldier's accent and cadence. "ATTACKED BY EARTH FORCES!"
"THEY'RE SHOOTING! ENERGY WEAPONS! CONVENTIONAL FIREARMS!"
"WE NEED REINFORCEMENT! SEND THE EINHERJAR! AHHHHH—"
The scream cut off with a sickening sound of impact.
"You Asgardian bastard!" another different voice sounded, harsh and filled with manufactured hatred. "Did you think we would always stay under your boot? That Earth would bow forever?!"
BANG! The sound of a weapon discharging.
"You motherfucker!" the voice continued.
"Capture him! Keep him alive!" a third voice commanded. "We'll get all the information about Asgard's defenses from him. Torture it out if we have to!"
"FOR EARTH!" someone shouted.
"FOR EARTH!" another voice echoed.
"FOR EARTH!" The chant grew, multiple voices joining.
Hearing this performance, Fury's face twitched violently. If he didn't know better, if he hadn't just learned the truth, he would almost think he was watching some kind of Hollywood blockbuster. Some overly dramatic action film with hammy dialogue.
He'd still held some kind of hope, Fury thought bitterly as he walked. Some faint possibility that this was all a big misunderstanding between him and Talos. That maybe Talos had also received wrong information from his own sources, or had been set up by someone else. That the Skrull leader was a victim too.
But this recording made everything crystal clear. This was deliberate planning, careful orchestration. This was a frame job designed specifically to make Earth look guilty, to manufacture evidence of rebellion and attempted murder.
"Motherfucker," Fury muttered aloud.
"What happened to the Skrulls who did this?" he asked Frank.
"Boss, two of them died in the firefight with our security response team," Frank reported. "But we captured the remaining three alive. Our interrogation specialists are working on them now in holding cell seven."
Hearing this, Fury's face hardened into an expression of cold determination.
"Okay, take me there," he ordered. "Let me personally see why our 'friends' are so excited to destroy Earth. Let me hear what they have to say for themselves."
Asgard - Royal Palace Throne Room
"SISTER! SOMETHING BIG HAPPENED!"
Thor's voice echoed through the throne room as he burst through the doors without ceremony, his urgency overriding all protocol.
"Stop shouting! I heard you!" Hela, who'd been drowsily looking at administrative documents, suddenly jolted awake at the commotion.
Sister.
"Stop shouting, I heard you the first time," she repeated while rubbing her eyes tiredly.
If she'd known earlier that ruling would end up like this—reading boring documents every single day, managing resources and trade agreements and petty disputes.
fuck this throne, Hela thought with genuine regret. She would have directly run away from Asgard before anyone could crown her.
Looking at Thor's agitated face, she suddenly wondered if she should just give the throne to him instead. If their plan with Elric didn't specifically require her to be the sitting monarch for political reasons, she would definitely not have taken this position. She would have worked Odin to death first.
"Sister, the prisoner transport ship was attacked!" Thor said urgently. "Attacked by Earth forces!"
"We received a distress message that they attacked the ship with overwhelming firepower and ultimately captured our soldier," he continued, his face showing genuine concern. "They have an Asgardian in custody!"
If Thor hadn't met with Elric beforehand, if he hadn't found out through their private conversations that Elric and Hela had already solved her personal issues together,he would definitely have assumed this was a retaliatory attack.
Although his sister and Elric had a weird relationship—something Thor didn't fully understand and honestly didn't want to understand—it didn't look bad. They seemed... close.
"Oh?" Hela said, pretending to be surprised by the news. "Earth attacked us? You mean Midgard, where your little girlfriend is from, right?"
Thor felt a little embarrassed by the mention of her, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. But remembering the urgency of why he'd come here, he hurriedly removed all distracting thoughts and focused.
Sister, this not the time.
Oh, Yea.
"How dare they attack us!" Hela declared, her voice rising with perfectly performed outrage. "Are they tired of living? Tired of existing under our protection?"
She stood from the throne dramatically. "Go, Thor! Bring the army! Assemble the Einherjar! I don't want to see a single being alive on that miserable planet anymore! Reduce their cities to ash!"
Although Hela's personality had calmed down considerably in recent times—she was less likely to murder people for minor offenses—Thor still knew intimately how crazy she could become when properly provoked. He'd grown up watching her reputation for violence.
So he hurriedly moved to persuade her, to de-escalate before this spiraled completely out of control.
"Sister, I think there might be some misunderstanding here," Thor said quickly, stepping closer. "Please, let's not rush to judgment."
Thor had quite a good impression of Earth overall. Let alone his girlfriend who was from there, but more than that—he'd gone to Midgard with Loki countless times when they were young. Explored the planet, met interesting people, experienced their cultures. He had fond memories.
"And more than that practical concern," Thor continued aloud, "there's Borgin and Elric on Earth. Both top-tier fighters, both extremely powerful. Although he don't think they could win against Asgard's full military might in a prolonged war, it would definitely result in huge losses for them. Unnecessary deaths."
"Sister, let me go first and try to negotiate," Thor proposed. "There might genuinely be a misunderstanding here. Some miscommunication, some error in the chain of events."
"And also," he added, playing what he thought was his strongest card, "there's Elric and Borgin stationed on Earth. If we attack Midgard directly, even though your relationship is good with Elric personally, he might not just sit still and let us destroy his home. That could create... complications."
"Okay," Hela said after a moment of pretend consideration. "Go and find out what actually happened. Get their side of the story."
"As long as our soldier is not dead, this can be negotiated and resolved diplomatically," she stated clearly. "But understand this, Thor: even one drop of Asgardian blood spilled will not be tolerated. If they've harmed him, if they've tortured or killed our guard, then all diplomatic options end. Is that clear?"
Thor nodded firmly, agreeing completely with this position. "As long as the soldier hasn't been harmed, everything will be fine. I'll bring him home safely and we can work this out peacefully."
"But if something has happened to him," Thor's expression darkened, lightning briefly flickering in his eyes, "then that will be a different matter entirely."
He turned and strode from the throne room.
Hela watched him go, then allowed herself a small, secret smile once the doors closed.