Inside the Quinjet – 38,000 Feet Over the North Atlantic
The Quinjet hummed with steady engine noise, the rhythm broken only by the occasional growl of distant thunder. Weather radar showed turbulence outside, but this felt different. Too regular. Too deliberate.
Loki sat calmly in the center row, hands cuffed with reinforced restraints, posture almost regal despite being a prisoner. His scepter lay locked in a containment case two seats away. Without it, he looked—if anything—more dangerous. His relaxed half-smile made it impossible to tell if he was plotting or simply enjoying the free ride.
Tony stood at the back of the cabin, armor gleaming like it had been polished between battles. The Mk-43A hadn't even picked up a scratch during the fight in Stuttgart. Twenty-percent Celestium lattice: one hundred percent smug durability.
Helmet retracted, arms folded, he studied Loki.
Natasha piloted up front, calm as ever. Two SHIELD agents stood along the walls, rifles lowered but attentive.
Tony broke the silence first.
"So, let me get this straight. You come down to Earth with a magic glow stick, hypnotize a crowd, start demanding everyone kneel like you're running a yoga class from hell."
Loki didn't look at him. "You mortals never tire of the sound of your own voices."
"Hey, it's not our fault silence makes you nervous."
"I fear nothing," Loki replied smoothly.
Tony smirked. "Not even commitment? Impressive."
That finally got Loki to turn his head. His green eyes held a sharp amusement.
"You are the one they call Iron Man."
"Depends who's asking. Ex-girlfriends get different answers."
"And you truly believe a suit of armor elevates you to my level?"
Tony shrugged. "Nope. It elevates me above your level."
Loki's smile sharpened. "Arrogance suits you."
"Yeah, I get that a lot."
A deep crack of thunder shook the jet.
One of the SHIELD agents glanced nervously at the window. "Storm's picking up."
Tony looked outside. The clouds weren't drifting—they were curling inward, spiraling around a fixed point like something was drawing them.
"That's not weather," he muttered.
Natasha's voice crackled over the intercom.
"We've got incoming. Fast."
Tony stepped beside the window.
Lightning split the sky—a pillar of blinding white twisting like a divine tornado. And at the heart of it, descending from the heavens, was a figure in red and silver, cape snapping violently in the wind.
Tony raised an eyebrow.
"Great. Thunder from Down Under."
The lightning column vanished abruptly.
A moment later, Thor hovered directly beside the Quinjet, expression carved in stone, hair whipping wildly, Mjolnir still glowing.
Yeah. Definitely not weather.
Tony hit the ramp release.
The back of the jet opened with a hydraulic howl. Wind roared in. Rain misted the cabin floor.
Thor flew in with perfect control, boots slamming onto the deck hard enough that the whole Quinjet dipped and the instruments chirped warnings.
The moment he entered, thunder rumbled again—quiet, like it was waiting for him to speak.
His eyes locked onto Loki.
"Brother."
Loki's smirk stayed in place. "Thor. You're late."
Thor strode forward, every step heavy with authority. "Where is the Tesseract?"
"Lost," Loki said, unconcerned. "In a gamble you never approved of."
"You will return it," Thor warned, voice low.
"Will I? How very Asgardian of you—telling me what I will and will not do."
Tony slid between them, one hand raised.
"Okay, Blondie, let's tone down the Shakespeare. You're on my plane."
Thor turned toward Tony. For a moment, the cabin felt like it shrank.
"You dare interfere with Asgardian matters?"
"I dare a lot of things," Tony said. "It's a problem. Therapy's expensive."
Mjolnir hummed in Thor's grip, lightning crawling across its surface.
Loki, of course, looked delighted.
"Listen to the man, Thor. He's almost clever."
Thor ignored him and reached for Loki's arm.
Tony stepped forward at the same moment.
"Hey! Big guy. He's SHIELD custody. That's above your pay gra—"
Mjolnir spun.
The back of the hammer slammed into Tony's chest with the force of a truck full of trucks.
The impact blew him straight out of the open ramp.
***
Freefall – 30,000 Feet and Dropping
The sky swallowed Tony. Clouds tore past. Wind roared.
Tony's HUD blinked red for half a second before JARVIS steadied it.
"Damage report," Tony barked.
"Zero structural harm, sir. Aether lattice absorbed ninety-eight percent of kinetic transfer. Your ribs are perfectly intact."
"Great. Because I'd hate to get punched by a literal thunder god and not walk it off."
He twisted midair, stabilizers flaring, and shot upward—straight back toward the Quinjet.
***
Inside the Quinjet
Thor now had Loki by the collar, dragging him toward the open ramp.
Loki made no effort to escape. If anything, he looked amused.
"Still so impulsive, brother."
"This ends now," Thor growled.
"Oh, I hope not."
Lightning forked outside as Thor hauled Loki into the storm. Both vanished into the swirling clouds.
The Quinjet rocked so hard Natasha had to wrestle the controls.
Outside, a trail of lightning drifted downward—too straight to be natural.
Thor was heading down to Schwarzwald Forest.
Tony exploded upward through the storm clouds, repulsors blazing, chasing the glowing trail left by Mjolnir.
***
Schwarzwald Forest – Germany
Dawn creeping over the mountains
Mist drifting through black pines
Thor slammed into a rocky ridge surrounded by towering trees, Loki landing beside him with far more grace despite still being cuffed.
Rain pattered softly. Thunder rumbled overhead like an old engine.
Thor released Loki roughly and stepped back, Mjolnir spinning slowly in his hand.
"You will tell me where the Tesseract has been taken."
Loki brushed imaginary dust off his coat. "And spoil the fun? That would be rude."
"You bring chaos to Midgard—for a throne you do not deserve."
"I bring clarity. They embrace freedom until it becomes inconvenient. They will kneel, Thor. They always kneel."
Thor's expression cracked, sadness threading through his anger.
"This darkness—it does not belong to you."
"The brother you remember," Loki said quietly, "died in the void. What crawled out is what remains."
Lightning flickered along Mjolnir's surface.
"Then I will take you home in chains, if I must."
Loki smirked. "You can try."
A white-gold streak cut through the sky.
Tony crashed down onto the ridge, landing between them with a metallic thud, suit steaming from the flight.
Helmet snapped open.
He pointed at Thor.
"Alright, Captain Sparkles. Round two. Only this time, how about we talk before someone plays baseball with my chest?"
Thor turned slowly. "You stand between me and my prisoner."
"Correction: SHIELD's prisoner."
"You are no king."
"Good. Less paperwork."
Lightning crackled along Thor's arm as he raised his hammer.
Tony's repulsors lit up in response, white glow building across both palms.
Loki watched them like a man at a theater performance he'd already bought popcorn for.
"This should be entertaining."
The forest fell silent.
Mist hung suspended as if the air itself braced for impact.
Tony tilted his head.
"I'm listening, big guy. You gonna explain before you start swinging?"
Thor's eyes narrowed, voice low and certain.
"I'm taking my brother."
Tony's stance shifted. Repulsors brightened.
"Not happening."
Lightning crawled up Thor's arm.
Tony's repulsors screamed as they charged.
The storm roared.
The ridge trembled.
The two figures faced each other—blinding gold against crackling blue.
Loki grinned.