The wind on the rooftop was pretty intense, nearly knocking Captain America's (Steve Rogers') cowl askew.
The atmosphere was thick with tension.
On one side: the exhausted, fully geared-up original Avengers team, breathing heavily. On the other: a ridiculously handsome blonde guy in a bespoke suit, hands in his pockets, whose hairstyle was somehow still perfect, with a whimpering, strangely-costumed Asgardian prince (Loki) huddled at his feet.
The visual contrast was jarring, like editing The Godfather and Teletubbies together.
"Sir!"
Captain America didn't know who this man was, but his built-in justice-meter told him this guy was extremely dangerous. He raised his shield, his face serious: "This is a war zone, it's very unsafe! Whoever you are, please leave immediately!"
"Leave?"
Frieza raised an eyebrow, wearing that signature, elegant, punch-me-in-the-face smile.
"Captain Rogers, I think you're mistaken about one thing. This is my building—it still technically has 'Stark's' name on it, but soon, this entire neighborhood will be bearing the Frieza name. I'm merely inspecting my future assets. Is there a problem?"
Up in the air, Tony Stark flipped open his faceplate, revealing a sweat- and oil-streaked face.
"Frieza? You mean that real estate mogul who's been buying up every pile of rubble like a maniac lately?" Tony clearly recognized the face. "Listen, pal, I know you're rich and maybe know a few party tricks, but now is not the time for a business meeting! That giant hole in the sky is spewing aliens, and standing here is just going to get in the way!"
Though Tony was surprised by how Frieza had dodged the Captain's shield earlier, he didn't think a real estate developer could handle an alien army.
"Getting in the way?"
Frieza sounded like he'd heard the funniest joke, his shoulders twitching as he let out that spine-tingling laugh.
"Oh ho ho ho... Mr. Stark, you have too much confidence in your little tin toys. Instead of worrying about me, you should worry about whether those fly-like aliens are going to bite you to death."
He extended a long, slender finger and pointed elegantly toward the sky.
As if responding to his words, the portal suddenly vibrated violently.
ROAR!
A few deafening roars erupted, and then three more massive Leviathans spilled out of the wormhole like a cosmic bad case of diarrhea, followed by a swarm of Chitauri soldiers so dense they looked like a biblical plague of locusts.
The Avengers' faces instantly went pale.
The first wave had already pushed them to exhaustion, and it just kept coming?
"Shoot!" Tony cursed, his faceplate slamming shut. "Cap, this spot is yours! I'm going to draw off those big guys!"
"Natasha, Barton, hold the ground! Hulk... Hulk! Go smash some stuff!" The Captain dropped any thought of the strange businessman and roared his orders.
"RRAARGH!" Hulk roared, leaping out like a green cannonball, latching onto the side of a nearby skyscraper.
"Sir, I don't know what your plan is, but for your own safety, please stay behind cover and don't move!"
The Captain tossed his final warning and charged, shield first, toward the newly landed Chitauri soldiers.
Watching the frantic Super Heroes, Frieza let out a bored yawn.
It was like watching ants fight over a few breadcrumbs. It was novel at first, but it got old fast.
He turned, his gaze falling on the humming spatial device.
The blue Space Stone was radiating an enticing glow. The pure energy shield surrounding it was an insurmountable barrier for others, but for him, it was about as tough as plastic wrap.
If he wanted to, he could reach out and pluck the thing off to play marbles with.
But...
Frieza glanced at the massive hole in the sky, then at the constantly updating system display.
> [Ding! Chitauri army pressing, New York citizens panicking, Fear Factor +10!]
> [Ding! Fear Factor +10!]
> [Ding!...]
The Fear Factor was accumulating slowly, but it was steady. If he shut the portal now, wouldn't he be turning off the free buffet?
He couldn't do that.
Good business means a steady stream of revenue. Even if the stream was a little thin right now, it was still profit. Besides, the real main course hadn't even been served yet.
"Let's just keep the door open for a little longer. After all, it's on Stark's electric bill."
Frieza comfortably settled down on a relatively clean step, crossing his legs. He almost wanted Loki to give him a foot rub.
Unfortunately, Loki was currently sprawled on the floor, his eyes darting furtively between the Space Stone and Frieza.
As the God of Mischief, Loki never missed an opportunity to escape.
The terrifying monster seemed to be spacing out right now, and the Avengers were too busy to notice. If he could just grab the Space Stone, or slip off the building in the chaos, escaping with his illusions would be a piece of cake!
Then, he'd hide somewhere until the heat died down, and return to Asgard or some other planet...
Loki's fingers twitched, ready to cast a quick illusionary shift.
"I suggest you put that stupid thought away."
A lazy voice, yet one that held an icy chill, struck Loki's ear like a thunderclap.
Loki froze, mechanically turning his head to meet Frieza's eyes, which were curved in a non-smile.
"Captain Ginyu-Loki, your position is highly sought after, you know."
Frieza reached out and made a twisting motion in the air, like unscrewing a bottle cap.
"Do you know how many people across the universe are lined up, just waiting to be my pet? If you don't appreciate this opportunity, I wouldn't mind popping your head off like a champagne cork. Pop! That would be a beautiful sight."
"Then, I'll peel off that handsome battlesuit and make that muscle-bound brute, Thor, wear it. I think he'd be much more obedient than you."
Hiss!
Loki gasped, instantly visualizing his own head getting knocked off, followed by Thor doing a humiliating dance in his ridiculous leather outfit.
It was too wicked! He wasn't just killing him, he was killing his very soul!
"No! Master! I wasn't! I was just... just checking to see if the floor was dirty and if you needed a shoeshine!" Loki instantly sprang up, frantically rubbing his sleeve across Frieza's spotless dress shoes, his face a mask of sickening subservience.
What was the dignity of a god, or the glory of Asgard, compared to keeping his hide intact?
Frieza nodded contentedly. His guard dog was mostly trained—a bit of a coward, but obedient, which was what mattered.
Time ticked by.
The battle downstairs had reached a fever pitch. Tony was running low on energy, Hulk was battered and bruised from focused fire, and Cap's shield was practically sparking from all the abuse.
Frieza was yawning constantly, even considering a power nap.
This was so boring. Just explosions and explosions, with zero originality.
Just then,
Frieza's super-powered vision, enhanced by his Frieza template, keenly spotted a small black dot on the horizon.
It was a uniquely shaped black bomber, tens of miles away, tearing through the clouds and speeding toward Manhattan.
A B-2 Spirit Stealth Bomber.
And in its belly bay, it carried a massive payload.
The prominent nuclear radiation symbol on it gave off an aura of world-ending destruction that could be felt from miles away.
"Oh ho?"
Frieza's eyes instantly lit up, like a child spotting a desired toy.
It's finally here!
Was this the legendary "American Rescue?" If you can't solve the problem, eliminate the person who brought it up, and flatten the area where the problem happened for good measure.
"It's about to be a barbecue, this time for real." (Frieza said, playing with a meme phrase in his mind).
The smile on Frieza's face grew, turning into a wild, intense burst of laughter.
This was humanity: willing to sacrifice millions of people in their own city for the sake of "security." That kind of ruthlessness was perfectly suited to the tastes of Lord Frieza.
At the same time,
Tony Stark, struggling in the sky, received an urgent alert from J.A.R.V.I.S.
"Sir, detecting a nuclear missile launch. Target is downtown Manhattan! Estimated time to detonation: two minutes and thirty seconds!"
"What?!"
Tony's voice cracked. "Those lunatics! There are millions of civilians down here! And my tower!"
"Director Fury is attempting an intercept, but this is a direct Security Council order, it cannot be recalled."
Tony looked at the portal, which was still violently spewing energy, and then at the missile, already visible on the edge of his sight.
Despair.
That energy shield couldn't even be cracked by Thor's hammer. How could they shut it down?
The only way...
Tony's gaze locked onto the enormous space wormhole.
"J.A.R.V.I.S., map an intercept course for the missile, using the portal as the target."
"Sir, that is a one-way ticket."
"Do as I say!"