The video loaded. Tony and Fury leaned in, eyes wide.
It wasn't a simulation. It wasn't a blurry satellite feed. It was high-definition, cinematic footage of a reality that could have been.
Scene: The Crater Site. Night.
Rain lashed down. Thunder rumbled like a beast in the clouds.
On screen, Nick Fury stood next to Clint Barton, staring at Mjolnir.
"Electromagnetic waves, neutron mass, Vita radiation... everything is off the charts," Barton reported, his eyes scanning the monitors.
"Someone lost a very expensive paperweight," Fury muttered on screen. "And they're going to want it back. Let's hope they're friendly."
Suddenly, chaos erupted.
A blonde man—Thor—tore through the perimeter fence. He moved like a linebacker, tossing SHIELD agents aside like ragdolls.
"Fury," Tony commented, unable to resist. "Your guys are dropping like flies. Do you train them to fall down?"
"That's a God, Stark," Fury snapped, his eyes glued to the screen. "A depowered God is still an Asgardian tank. My guys are trained to fight terrorists, not Vikings."
On screen, Coulson's voice crackled over the comms. "Intruder spotted. Caucasian male. Mid-twenties. Great hair."
"Excuse me?" Fury blinked at the screen. "Did he just say 'Great hair'?"
"It's an accurate description, sir," on-screen Coulson insisted. "He's gorgeous."
"I need eyes up high," Fury ordered. "Barton."
"I'm on it," Barton replied, grappling up to a crane basket.
The camera shifted to Hawkeye's perspective. The rain blurred the scope, but the target was clear. Thor was reaching for the hammer. His face was a mask of desperation and hope.
"He's going for the object," Barton radioed. "One shot, one kill. Sir, give the order."
"Hold your fire," Fury commanded. "I want to see what he does."
Thor grabbed the handle. He pulled. He screamed.
Nothing happened.
The hammer didn't budge.
Thor fell to his knees, broken. "Father... why?"
At that exact moment... THWIP.
An arrow flew.
It struck Thor square in the chest.
The God of Thunder gasped, looking down at the shaft protruding from his heart. He fell back into the mud, lifeless.
"Damn it, Barton!" Fury roared on screen. "I said hold fire!"
"I didn't!" Barton yelled back, looking at his bow in horror. "My hand... it slipped! I didn't shoot!"
Guards swarmed the tower. Barton was arrested, looking utterly confused. "I swear! I didn't loose it!"
Fury walked over to the body. He looked at the dead God.
"Well," Fury said grimly. "Your arrow says otherwise."
Cut to: The Next Morning.
The desert sun was blinding. Coulson was driving back to base with coffee.
Suddenly, the coffee floated. The car shook.
A beam of rainbow light slammed into the ground nearby. The Bifrost.
Out of the dust marched an army. Golden armor. Spears. Shields.
And leading them... Loki.
Wearing his horned helmet, looking every inch the conquering king.
"Sir," Coulson radioed, his voice trembling. "We have visitors. They look like they're from Middle Earth."
"And they brought an army."
On screen, Fury walked out to meet them. SHIELD agents raised their rifles. Asgardian soldiers lowered their spears.
"You look lost, gentlemen," Fury called out, trying to project authority.
Loki smiled. A cold, cruel smile.
"We are not lost," Loki's voice boomed. "We are here for the murderer of my brother."
"Surrender the archer. Or I will burn this realm to ash."
Video Ends.
The hologram faded.
Tony let out a long breath. "Okay. That... that is bad."
"Middle Earth invasion," Tony rubbed his face. "Loki leading an army because Hawkeye had a muscle spasm?"
"It wasn't a spasm," Fury said quietly. "Barton doesn't miss. And he doesn't slip. Someone pushed him. Or nudged him."
"But that's irrelevant now," Fury continued. "The point is... if Thor dies, Earth becomes a parking lot for Asgardian chariots."
"We can't let that happen," Fury declared. "I'm going to New Mexico personally. I'm going to confiscate Barton's bow. I'm going to replace it with a walkie-talkie. He can yell at people."
"Good idea," Tony agreed. "And maybe build a plexiglass wall around the hammer. Just in case."
"But seriously," Tony added. "Great hair? Coulson really said that?"
"Coulson has... eclectic tastes," Fury grunted. "Don't ask."
"I'm heading out," Fury turned to leave. "Stark, keep an eye on the diary. If Lucas posts a 'How to Defeat Loki' tutorial, forward it to me immediately."
"Will do," Tony saluted mockingly. "Good luck, Director. Try not to start an intergalactic war."
"No promises," Fury muttered as he walked out into the night.