The Asgardian library was massive. No — massive didn't do it justice. It was like a work of art unto itself. I know the word "cosmic" shouldn't be thrown around lightly, but this library looked less like the archive of one planet and more like the archive of the entire universe.
It sat at the heart of the city, just before the royal palace. Built from gold and marble like everything else in this place, it was designed to resemble a giant tree stretching toward the heavens. At first it looked modest compared to the palace — but once past the tree-like exterior, the structure opened up into something staggering. Row upon row of shelves stretched in every direction, each row wide enough to fit a suburban house inside, the shelves climbing to a ceiling fifty feet overhead.
That ceiling was charmed with lights that drifted freely without any visible source. The smell of aged paper filled the air. Asgardians of all kinds moved between the stacks — soldiers, scholars, children.
In an inner corner of the library, near the section on myths and legends of the cosmos — which drew a dozen or so visitors of its own — was where the girls and I had settled. With an armed escort, of course, courtesy of Thor.
"This is pointless," Wanda huffed as she dropped a tome onto the large oak table in the middle of the row. She leaned back and rolled her shoulders. "We've gone through every possible index in this place. What now?"
"It's only been three hours, Wanda," I said. "This is the collected knowledge of the entire universe. I'm fairly sure we haven't even scratched the surface."
"Yeah, three hours — meaning we haven't slept nearly enough for this," she grumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Honestly, even for me, this is a bit much."
"Well, if you don't like it, then fuck off!" Felicia cried out as she jumped from her seat and walked away. She was livid, clutching three books she'd been going through meticulously for the past hour.
Wanda snarled. "What's her problem?"
"Wanda. Don't," I warned. I turned to Jean. The redhead looked exhausted — and with good reason.
When we'd told Felicia what was happening, and what the last Phoenix host had given up to become one... we didn't get much sleep. We'd tried. But I'd barely managed two hours, and Felicia perhaps four.
The first thing we'd done that morning was ask the guards to take us to the library, citing the verbal permission Odin himself had granted. Since nine in the morning, we'd been here — searching, hoping to find anything we could use.
Felicia was taking it the hardest of all. I could smell her anger, her frustration. I looked to Jean, who motioned me to follow Kitten. I sighed and nodded, getting to my feet.
I moved through the stacks until I heard someone sniffle. Deep in the back rows, I found her. Books thrown aside, knees pulled to her chest, crying quietly in the corner of a shelf.
"Kitten," I said softly. My heart felt like it was splintering apart.
"Go away," she hissed, not looking up.
"Kitten, please, I—"
"Leave, Peter. Now!"
The tone was sharp. But I knew I deserved it. I didn't leave. Instead, I lowered myself to the floor across from her, rested my head back against the shelves, and let out a long breath as the weight of the day finally caught up with me.
After a moment I turned to her and slowly reached out, trying to take her hand. She snapped it away. "Don't touch me!"
"Felicia—"
"No. Don't you dare," she hissed, finally looking up. Her eyes were red. "You lied to me. Both of you. All this time, you knew what was coming, and you didn't tell me. How could you?!"
And there it was. I felt my stomach drop. The truth I'd been carrying — so much of it kept locked away out of fear. Fear of being rejected. Fear of being abandoned. And here was proof that I'd been right to fear it.
"I'm sorry... I'm so, so sorry. I tried — I tried so hard to make sure you'd all be safe, that nothing would happen. I thought if you knew, you would... you'd never trust me again."
"Bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy, wasn't it?!" she snapped.
"What was I supposed to do, Felicia? Tell you every possible future I'd seen across other worlds? Every version of events that might or might not happen? I didn't think—"
"Peter," she hissed, "I don't care that you keep secrets. You always have, and I've learned to love you anyway. Ever since we first dated, you've always known more than me. At first I hated that — hated that feeling of letting you hold all the cards. But I grew to trust you enough to accept it. And I made my peace with it. But this? You kept something from me that I had a right to know. Jean's life was in danger, and instead of telling me, you two kept it between yourselves.
"I thought we were a team, Peter! I thought we loved each other — all of us. How can that be true if I'm always on the outside looking in? Am I being punished for leaving? I know I was wrong to go. But you can't do this to me. It isn't fair. It's like you don't even love me."
I snapped. Words weren't enough. Without thinking, I reached forward and took her face in my hands, kissing her with everything I had. She stiffened in shock as I pressed her gently back against the shelves.
She struggled. She tried to push me away, then growled and kissed back — fierce and furious all at once. Our foreheads knocked together. I reached into her mind, formed a psychic connection, and did the only thing I could think of to prove just how wrong she was.
I showed her.
I opened my memories to her — everything that had happened after she'd left. The way I'd felt. What I'd thought. How I'd spent Valentine's Day hollow and heartbroken, alone, before Jean. How, the night Tandy kissed me, all I could think about was why she wasn't there instead.
I showed her every person who'd told me to move on — MJ, Liz, Flash, the Earth-982 Peter, May Parker, and even her own alternate self. I showed her exactly what they'd said, and I showed her how I'd ignored every single one of them.
I showed her what I'd been thinking the night in Riri's lab when we'd talked — how all I'd wanted in that moment was to forget everything and just hold her and never let go. I showed her how much it had gutted me that the boy I'd had with her resented me. And the guilt that had never left me after learning I'd failed to keep her alive in another life.
All of it.
Her kiss lost its momentum. I slowly pulled back and looked down at her as her eyes tried to focus, her mind processing everything I'd shared.
"I didn't tell you the truth because I didn't know what the truth was. I was afraid of it. I didn't tell you about Jean because I felt it was her secret to share — and because I was praying every day that it would never come to pass. And I don't hate you for leaving me, Kitten. I hate that you never told me why. But I love that you came back.
"Get this through your head once and for all, Felicia Hardy — don't you ever say I don't love you. I didn't spend the better part of half a year wishing you back into my life just for you to think I don't love you enough. You, me, and Jean are going to grow old together. Raise our kids together. We're going to spend half our lives explaining to people how a three-way relationship works, the other half making it socially acceptable, and the rest trying to keep the world from falling apart. You are mine, Felicia Hardy. And don't ever think for one second that I'm not yours.
"If you need someone to blame for keeping this from you — blame me. Not Jean. I told her not to say anything. She's innocent in all of this, and right now she's scared out of her mind. I know you love her, and she loves you. She needs us. Both of us. So please... come back. For her, if not for me."
She looked at me. Slowly, she straightened herself and leaned back against the shelf again. She sniffed and rubbed at her eyes with her sleeve. She closed them.
I moved to her side and sat in silence.
"You're a liar," she whispered.
I bowed my head. "I'm sorry."
"You don't even know why I said that, do you?" she asked.
"For not telling you about Jean?" I guessed.
"No." A ghost of a smile crossed her lips. "Jean told me — before we even left our rooms this morning — that she didn't want to overreact and that she'd asked you to stop worrying. She told me the reason you didn't say anything was because of you, not her. And you just told me the opposite. Frankly, I'm more inclined to believe her."
"Well... she is better-looking than me."
"Dick," she smacked my hand lightly. I smiled and extended it back to her. She looked at it for a moment, sighed, and took it — leaning her head onto my shoulder. "I'm sorry. I overreacted."
"And I'm sorry I didn't tell you. But being able to see other worlds, to know futures that might come to pass... it's maddening. I genuinely didn't know what was real and what wasn't. I thought if I could keep it from you, I could handle it without dragging you and Jean into it."
"Peter," she squeezed my hand. "I can't even pretend to understand what you've had to deal with. I barely have a grip on this whole interdimensional business, even after everything I learned at Kamar-Taj. But I understand you. You have this relentless habit of making the world's problems yours alone.
"And I love that about you. You go out of your way to do the right thing, even when it costs you everything. But you aren't alone this time, Pete. Jean and I aren't damsels — she's an absolute force of nature, and I was trained by the greatest thief on Earth. We might not be Avengers, but we can help carry some of that weight."
I sighed and nodded. "I know. I guess it just goes against my nature."
Felicia smiled. "Yeah. I know. Great power, greater responsibility." She leaned in and kissed my cheek. "And I suppose that's one of the reasons I love you, Tiger."
She was right. I had that habit — carrying the weight of the whole world, to a degree that Peter Parker himself never would have. But maybe that was why I'd been put in this body. Because deep down... he and I weren't so different after all. Two sides of the same coin, in a way.
"Peter?" Jean suddenly poked her head around the corner of the shelves. She spotted Felicia and me and took in our joined hands. She smiled. "Patched things up?"
"Until I mess it all up again — yeah," I smiled, giving Kitten's hand a squeeze.
"Well, get up. Thor's here. He says the dwarves have arrived to inspect your blade," Jean replied.
"Right." Felicia and I got to our feet. I gathered her books as we walked back to the main table. Jean and Felicia immediately fell into a silent exchange of glances — they were having a telepathic conversation. Rude. Though I was hardly one to talk.
Back at the research table, we found Thor and Jane already waiting, the latter bent over a book alongside Wanda with obvious fascination.
"This is an astrological record of black hole movements over five centuries, documented on an almost daily basis — how is this even possible?! Where did you find the time?!" Jane asked in disbelief.
Thor shrugged. "Asgardians live for a very long time, Jane. This was honestly just a weekend hobby for one of our university scholars."
"How... long?" Jane stammered, the horror beginning to dawn on her face.
"Oh, about ten thousand to a hundred thousand years, give or take," Thor said, blissfully unaware of the implications — until he looked at his human companion and it hit him like a falling crate. "J-Jane, I—"
"Thor," I cleared my throat. "The dwarves?"
"Oh. Right. Yes, well—" Thor nodded quickly and turned back to Jane. "If you'd like, you're welcome to stay here. The library holds many secrets I imagine you'll find fascinating."
"Right... thanks," Jane murmured, settling back into her seat with a somewhat glazed expression.
Thor looked like he wanted to say something more, but I shook my head. Knowing him, he'd only make it worse.
I turned to Jean and Felicia. "I'll be right back. Promise."
"We'll stay and keep trying to dig up anything we can about the flaming chicken," Felicia snorted.
"Hold on — I'm coming with you," Wanda sighed, stretching as she stood. "I've been cooped up in here too long. I need a break."
"Right then. Come along — we shouldn't keep the dwarves waiting," Thor nodded, guiding us out of the library and into the streets of Asgard.
Waiting for us just outside were three enormous men. They had the compact, sturdy proportions of dwarves — but they towered over the rest of us at a solid twenty feet apiece.
Each was dressed similarly, in brown and black leather with metal gauntlets and goggles hanging around their necks or foreheads. They carried large bags over their shoulders, each one stuffed with metallic tools I couldn't begin to identify.
I stopped and looked up at them. "Okay — why exactly is the race called 'dwarves' when they're some of the largest beings I've ever laid eyes on? That's kind of moronic, isn't it?"
"Ha! Sharp tongue, lad," the lead dwarf chuckled, turning to Thor. "I like this one. Much better than that frosty brother of yours."
"Yes, well — Loki has his own charms," Thor tried to defend, somewhat weakly. "My friends, allow me to introduce the Dwarves of Nidavellir. Their leader is Dvalin." The dwarf who had laughed gave a bow. He had brown skin and red hair, a thick beard, and deep laugh lines around his eyes.
"Pleasure's mine, lad," Dvalin grunted.
"And his companions are Moavin the Smelter, and Eoffren — the finest magical crafter the dwarves possess." Moavin was the shorter of the two, standing at about fifteen feet with a shaved head and a thin pencil beard. Eoffren had a black goatee and wore his hair pulled back in a ponytail.
"Greetings," Eoffren nodded, while Moavin acknowledged us with a grunt.
"And these are Peter and Wanda," Thor said, motioning to us. "Friends of mine from Midgard."
"So — which of you carries the Uru weapon?" Dvalin grunted, eyeing Wanda and me.
"Me." My clothes shifted, transforming from the casual outfit I'd been wearing into my black-and-white suit. I reached into my backpack and the blade flew into my hand. I drew it and held it up to the light. The dwarves leaned in, their eyes narrowing.
"That's Uru, alright," Eoffren grunted, studying the blade. "And from what I can tell, it's been layered with magical enchantments. I'd need a closer look to identify them all, but what I can sense already is significant."
"The refinement is a mess," Moavin grunted, almost snarling. "Whoever forged this couldn't extract the full potential of the Uru. It's honestly an insult to the craft."
"Even so, the overall workmanship is remarkable," Dvalin said. "If I had to wager, this blade has a very... particular property when it comes to conflict. It's been used a great deal. Lad — have you killed with this weapon?"
I shook my head. "No. I've only used it to defend myself and my allies from enemies who draw power from the Mirror Dimension. Honestly, I'm not skilled enough for much else."
"Good," Eoffren grunted. "From what I can tell, this sword is an emotional amplifier. Even the faintest trace of violent intent will cause it to respond in kind — demanding more of the same to satisfy its need. You were wise not to use it without understanding it first. A sound-minded Asgardian might be able to resist its pull, but I have my doubts about most Midgardians."
"We aren't all weak-minded," Wanda snarled.
I glanced at her, a little surprised by the edge in her voice. "Easy there, Wanda. No need to be hostile to the guys who could flatten us."
"I haven't had my morning coffee," she replied mentally. "And I'm done being lectured on how fragile humans are. These gods and their superiority complexes are really starting to grate on me."
"W-we meant no disrespect, of course," Eoffren said quickly. "It is simply a matter of fact. Wielding Uru is unlike handling any ordinary metal — it is both a physical act and a deeply mental one. Something most Midgardians simply wouldn't be accustomed to."
"Could you analyze it?" I asked. "You clearly know far more about this than I do, and I'd rather learn to use it than keep it stored away and forgotten."
"That would take some time," Moavin grunted. "We would need to bring it back to our forge for a thorough examination."
"Perhaps another time?" Thor suggested. "It isn't ideal for me to leave Asgard right now."
I nodded in agreement.
"Besides, we still need to get back to researching the flaming chicken," Wanda added dryly.
"Why is that, lad?" Dvalin asked with a chuckle. "Expecting war to come knocking?" Thor and I exchanged a glance. The dwarf's eyes widened. "Oh... and who might that be with?"
"Dark Elves," Thor said flatly.
"B-but they've been dead for centuries!"
"Yes. But yesterday the Aether resurfaced," Thor stated, "and with the Convergence approaching... it's a risk we can't afford to ignore."
"You have the Aether?" Eoffren asked, his eyes widening. "Where is it?"
"I'm currently holding it," Thor said, producing the vibranium lockbox. "It's secure."
"Is it?" Eoffren asked, leaning in and studying the box with a curious frown. "It doesn't feel like it contains an Infinity Stone."
"You knew the Aether was an Infinity Stone?" Thor asked in shock. "Why have you never said anything?!"
Eoffren shrugged. "It honestly never came up, Thor. Do you have any idea how much knowledge we possess that the rest of the realms don't? It simply didn't seem relevant at the time. But back to this box — why am I sensing nothing from it?"
"Because it's designed that way," I replied. "It cuts off the energy signature a stone would normally emit."
"But what about the feedback loop?" the dwarf asked, still frowning at the metal. "You can't redirect the energy of an Infinity Stone indefinitely."
"No, but the energy is regulated into the box's internal circuitry, keeping its security systems powered. In essence, the stone itself is fueling the lock that keeps it contained."
"And the burnout?" Moavin grunted. "Surely Midgardian materials can't hold up under that kind of constant energy output."
"Normally, you'd be right — the material would degrade quickly. But I happened across a substance that handles energy transfer almost impossibly well. It's practically magical in how efficiently it works."
The dwarves exchanged glances. Dvalin turned back to me. "You are an interesting one, Midgardian. Tell me — are you a smith?"
"Of sorts," I shrugged, gesturing to my armor. "I made my own suit and hers." I nodded toward Wanda.
The dwarves turned to look at her. Eoffren squinted, trying to find what made her clothing remarkable. "I confess I don't see what's so special about it."
"Watch," Wanda said, and her outfit shifted — cycling rapidly through a dozen different costume designs before settling back to what she'd been wearing. "It can transform into any pre-scanned outfit with a single thought."
"Incredible," Eoffren murmured. "Magic?"
"Science," I said. "And it's also indestructible."
"Nothing is indestructible," Thor and all three dwarves said almost in unison.
"Can you destroy matter itself? Molecules?" I asked.
"We can alter the state in which they exist," Moavin grunted.
"But what if the state in which they exist were fundamentally unstable?" I put forward. "What if the molecular bonds were always slightly out of phase — not subject to the standard electromagnetic constraints of opposing forces? Which would mean—"
"—that the matter in question could never be damaged, never lose its structural integrity," Dvalin gasped. "You invented unstable molecule technology? Thor — I thought you said Midgard was eons behind us!"
"Most of it is," Thor said quickly, "but a handful of minds — like Peter, and another friend of mine named Stark — are exceptions."
"Still," Moavin hummed, "this is impressive. A mind like yours, born a dwarf, would be a master smith by your age. Tell me, boy — do you have a few days to spare? A day or two in our forge would be tremendously valuable."
"Maybe," I said, putting the sword away and switching back into jeans and a hoodie. "Just not right now. After the Convergence, perhaps?"
The dwarves looked at one another and nodded in agreement.
"Well then — with that settled," Thor began, only to be cut off as Jane, Jean, and Felicia came running out of the library at full speed, shouting.
"We found it!" Kitten cried out.
"Found what?" I asked as Jane shoved a massive tome into my hands, already flipped open to a marked page, and jabbed her finger at a passage below.
"There!" she grinned. "We found it."
I looked down and read quickly. The flames of hope stirred somewhere in my chest.
Among the many observations I have made during this project of mine, one does stand apart — and which I fully did not expect to be of any particular note. It has no true place in my research on the movement and activity of black holes, but I believe it is just as important.
I have found a recurring pattern in the movement of the cosmos that I cannot readily explain. In the event of a black hole consuming certain planets, or solar systems, an event occurs nearly one year later at that precise location. An event I did not at first understand — but now I do.
From my research, it is called the "Dawn Anew" — a sacred act performed by the cosmic entity of life and rebirth known as the Phoenix Force. It does this only when a planet that once contained life has been destroyed by a black hole. Why this occurs, I do not know, nor does it seem especially important. It is simply a curious pattern I noted and chose to record.
"It's useful, right?" Felicia asked, eagerness plain in her voice.
I rubbed my face. "Yes — I mean, it does mention the Phoenix. But it doesn't really help us figure out how to stop it."
"Excuse me," Eoffren spoke up, his voice carrying a note of genuine surprise, "did you just say the Phoenix?"
I turned to him and nodded. "The Phoenix Force. The cosmic entity. I take it you're familiar?"
"Why are they called dwarves if they're this big?" Felicia suddenly blurted, having apparently only just fully processed the three giants standing before her. The dwarves smirked.
Eoffren nodded. "Every being in the cosmos knows the Phoenix. Why do you concern yourself with it?"
I looked at Jean, who gave a small nod. With a sigh, I turned back to the crafter. "Because the woman I love has been chosen as its next host."
The dwarves went silent. Then Dvalin broke into a broad smile. "Why — that's wonderful! You must be so honoured!"
"What? Why?!" Felicia snapped.
"Because it is a tremendous honour!" Eoffren insisted, his companions nodding vigorously.
"Peter," Thor said, looking concerned. "Why did you not tell me?"
I sighed. "Because I still haven't come to terms with it myself, honestly."
"Honour?" Jean stepped forward, her jaw tight as she looked up at the dwarves. "Tell me — what part of being chosen by a cosmic force, having your body seized and used as a puppet, is an honour? What part of leaving behind everyone and everything you love counts as a privilege?"
The dwarves looked at one another. Eoffren spoke carefully. "My lady, you must understand. The Phoenix is greater than any one person — greater than any one planet. To be chosen is marvelous. Think of the power, the standing you would gain in the hierarchy of the cosmos—"
"I want none of that," Jean hissed. "And it has no right to demand it of me. I want this thing gone. There must be a weapon — something—"
"There is no weapon in all of creation capable of harming the Phoenix," Moavin grunted, "let alone stopping it."
"Wait — help me understand something," Jane said, speaking up. "How exactly does this thing find her? If it's a cosmic entity, couldn't it... get lost? Lose track of her somehow?"
"The Phoenix is omnipresent, Jane," Thor explained. "It is akin to a deity. If it has fixed its sights on Jean, I don't believe it can simply change its mind."
"But what if we muddied its senses?" Jane pressed. "Disrupted whatever it's using to track her? Wouldn't that prevent it from finding Jean?"
"How would you blind a god?" Dvalin asked with a snort.
"How did Loki blind his actions from Heimdall?" I asked. "How did he hide the fact that he wasn't dead — that he was building an army to invade Earth?"
"Heimdall, great soul that he is, has limitations," Eoffren snorted. "The Phoenix does not."
"Right, but how exactly did Loki manage it?" I pressed. "There has to be a method. Something."
"We could just ask him," Felicia suggested. "He's here on Asgard, isn't he? So... why not?"
Thor turned to me. "I would not count on my brother's cooperation. He is most uncooperative these days. Convincing him to help would be harder than convincing a mule to walk off a cliff."
"What about a psychic link?" Jean said suddenly, her brow furrowing in thought. "Jane's right — even an omnipresent being has to be tracking me through something. A connection. What if it's a psychic link between us?"
"A psychic link is certainly possible," Eoffren grunted, "but knowing it exists doesn't tell you how to break it."
"But it tells us what to block," my eyes went wide as the idea took shape. "If Jean is right — if that's how it's tracking her — then I could use vibranium to counter the signal. Interrupt the link. Deflect it."
"That would require knowing the Phoenix's energy signature," Wanda said flatly. "Which I don't think is even possible."
"What about Jean herself?" Jane jumped in, suddenly animated. "If she's connected to the Phoenix, then she and it share a signal — which means there should be a traceable frequency going from her out into space."
"I wouldn't even know where to begin with that," I admitted. "Cosmic energy signatures aren't exactly my area."
"But they're mine!" Jane said. "I have instruments that should theoretically be able to detect the readings. If I could get to them—"
"If we went back to Earth, could you do it?" I asked quickly.
Jane thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yes. I think I can."
My chest filled with something that felt dangerously close to hope. I opened my mouth to say more.
BOOM!
The ground shook.
"What the hell?!" Felicia cried out as a shadow fell across us all. We looked up. There, blotting out the sky above Asgard, was an armada that had appeared as if from nowhere.
Ships the size of city blocks descended in formation, swarming with smaller attack pods. At the vanguard was a massive black vessel shaped like a cross.
"They're here," I hissed. My costume responded instantly, encasing me. I snapped my head to Thor. "The Aether!"
"Here," he said, tossing me the lockbox. "It's safer with you. I need to rally the armies and meet them head-on. Peter — take Jane and the dwarves underground. Keep them safe."
"What?! I can fight!" I cried.
"So can we," Jean said, stepping forward. She, Felicia, and Wanda shifted into their suits.
"Then protect our people," Thor said urgently. "The civilians. Please, Peter — this is not your fight. It's mine."
"Bullshit! It's everyone's fight! And the longer we stand here arguing—"
"Thor!" A cry rang out across the street. Sif and the Warriors Three came racing toward us, fully armored.
"Sif," Thor turned. "Lock down the palace. I don't know their full intention, but we have to assume they're here for vengeance — or for the Aether."
"I've already called a platoon. We're with you," Volstagg said with a firm nod.
"Good." Thor turned back to me. "Peter... I cannot be everywhere at once. I have to trust that you'll do what I can't. Please. Keep my people safe."
I wanted to argue. I wanted to fight. But he was right.
I exhaled. "Fine. But—" I reached into my bag and pulled out the Ebony Blade. I looked at Eoffren. "You said its effect on the mind wouldn't affect an Asgardian?"
The dwarf studied me and nodded. "That's correct."
"Then it's better in capable hands than gathering dust in mine." I turned and tossed the blade to Sif. She caught it cleanly and tested its weight with fluid, instinctive ease.
"I am honored," she said, drawing her own sword and setting it aside before sheathing the Ebony Blade at her hip. "I will use it to protect my home, and return it when this is over. I swear it."
"Good." I turned to Thor one last time. He was already looking at Jane.
"I'll be back soon," he promised her.
"Go get them," she said.
And without another word, Thor spun Mjolnir and launched himself skyward. He tore through the Asgardian sky — faster, faster — straight toward the lead ship. The air crackled with electricity.
BOOM!
He crashed into the hull and knocked it off course. That impact seemed to mark the starting gun, because the moment Thor began tearing the ship apart, the rest of the armada moved to rain fire down on the city below.
"Alright," I turned to Sif. "Where do we take the people?"
"Down there," she pointed to what appeared to be a golden and stone subway entrance that I could've sworn hadn't been there a moment ago. "In the event of an invasion, the city has underground bunkers. Get them down there and nothing can touch them."
"Right." I turned to the girls. "Split up or stay together?"
"We'll cover more ground if we split," Jean said, rising into the air. "Felicia and I take the East. You and Wanda take the West."
"Agreed." I nodded and looked over at the dwarves, who were watching the chaos with undisguised excitement. "You three should get underground. It wouldn't look great if three ambassadors went missing during a war."
"Are you joking, boy?! This is the most excitement we've had in years!" Dvalin cried out as he and his companions reached into their bags and pulled out smithing tools repurposed as weapons. "We live for this! Did Midgard's stories never tell you we were warrior-smiths?!"
"Of course it's always fighting with you lot," Wanda sighed.
"Either way — the help is appreciated," I activated my suit's thrusters and took hold of Wanda by the arms. "Move out!"
We split up and went our separate ways. I flew Wanda between the sides of buildings, and just as we cleared the first turn, we came upon a wide square packed with civilians caught under fire from soldiers in black armor with featureless white masks.
"Drop me," Wanda said.
"What?!"
"Just do it!"
I sighed. "Fine." I flew over the Dark Elves and let her go. She fell, the wind battering her red coat. As she drew closer to the ground, a crimson aura of kinetic energy built up around her. My sensors spiked. Then she hit the ground like a cannonball.
BOOM!
Dust and sand erupted outward. The Elves nearest to the impact were hurled into the air. The rest looked around, guns raised, pointing into the smoke.
"Dark Elves of Svartalfheim!" came a raw, primal voice from the haze. A gust of wind scattered the smoke in all directions — and there stood Wanda Maximoff at the center of a car-sized crater, glowing, both hands blazing with a shade of red energy I had never seen from her before. "You aren't welcome here. So — fuck off!"
She flung her arms wide, and a shockwave of energy leveled every Elf around her.
My spider-sense fired. I spun — a small battalion of attack pods was incoming, locking onto the civilians below.
"Sexy, push as much power as we can spare to my repulsors," I ordered, clenching my fist as the repulsors charged.
"Heyo!" I called out, flying into the squadron and spreading my hands wide. "And goodbye!"
Twin blasts of energy ripped through the formation, knocking three ships out of the air and scattering the others. I fired web lines and lashed the burning wreckage to the sides of buildings, keeping the debris from falling on the people below.
"Peter, I believe you've gotten their attention," Sexy noted as the surviving ships immediately opened fire on me.
"Kind of noticed!" I twisted and dove, doing my best to weave through the barrage — but my spider-sense spiked too late. Something hit me dead-center with enough force to knock every breath from my lungs.
I went spinning across the sky and straight through the window of a nearby building, crashing through glass and into what appeared to be an Asgardian living room.
"Damn," I muttered, pulling myself together. "Damage report, Sexy?"
"No physical damage to your person, Peter. The vibranium in your suit absorbed all the kinetic energy," the AI replied.
"Huh. Cool." I got to my feet and walked to the gaping hole in the wall I'd made. Below, over a dozen attack ships were hovering, all weapons trained on me. "Can you analyze their systems? Find out what makes them tick?"
"Yes, but it will take some time."
I couldn't fly out of this — no, I needed mobility, not speed. I smirked. Time to go old school.
I crouched and waited. They didn't disappoint.
PEW!
The ship to my left fired. I leaped over the shot, landed clean, and vaulted out of the building into open air. I landed on the cockpit window of the nearest drone and peered inside. The pilot looked up at me in absolute shock.
"Hey! You've got a bug on your window. Might want to deal with that." My spider-sense fired. I jumped clear just as another ship fired at my position — and blasted its own ally in the process.
"You just shot your own man? Aren't you people supposed to be going extinct?" I landed on another ship and fired a web line, snagging the downed craft and swinging it with everything I had. My suit's internal support kicked in as I spun it like a wrecking ball and hurled it into another.
The explosion was music to my ears. I leaped off my platform just before it was shot out from under me, dancing through the gathered drones — each one firing, each one missing.
God, I loved flying. I genuinely did. But it just wasn't me. This — jumping, leaping, swinging through enemies, missing their shots by a hair's breadth — this was me. I had missed this more than I'd realized.
I fired web line after web line, carefully maneuvering each ship into firing at its own allies. I webbed the wreckage together into a growing cocoon suspended between the buildings.
"Oy! Peter! Coming up!" I turned to see Wanda fling several Elves skyward with her mind.
"Got them!" I caught each one in mid-flight with web bullets, pinning them spread-eagled against the sides of buildings.
I turned back to the last five ships and moved to close this out.
"Peter — I've got their weak point. The engines are at the rear. Take those out and they're done."
"Got it!" I dodged a volley of blaster fire, moving side to side, always staying half a step ahead while laying down a thicker and thicker web foundation below. Then I committed.
I hurled myself at the nearest ship, plunged my fist into its engine housing, and leaped away. It dropped like deadweight and bounced off the webbing trampoline I'd made below. One by one the others followed until the sky was clear.
I looked down. The Elves inside the downed ships were climbing out, guns in hand, taking aim at the webbing — and the people sheltering beneath it.
"No!" I snapped both hands forward and sent five red-tinted psionic ribbons out from my fingers, snatching the weapons from their grips and hurling them into the air. A repulsor burst finished them off.
I dropped onto the trampoline with the Elves. They charged, fists up, roaring. I put them all down in five seconds flat. Then I webbed them to a nearby wall and jumped off.
I found Wanda standing over a small mountain of bodies, one Elf dangling from her fist.
"Wanda!" I called out.
She released her grip and turned to me — and for just a moment, I saw the weapon HYDRA had made. The destroyed landscape around her. The piled bodies. The cold efficiency of it all. She was powerful. Deadly, even. I had never seen this side of her before. Now I realized she'd simply been better at hiding it.
"You left some alive," she said, stepping down from the pile without a second glance at the one she'd dropped. "You should have killed them."
"They're going extinct. Endangered. You wouldn't kill a panda, would you?" I asked.
Wanda looked out at the frightened crowd of Asgardian civilians. Some of them, I noticed, were more scared of us than they'd been of the Elves. "I would — if the pandas were killing people by the thousands."
"Alright. We need to move." I turned to the crowd. "All of you — get underground. Where's the nearest bunker entrance?"
"T-through there," an elderly man pointed down an alley to the left. "There is a path to the bunkers through there."
"Then that's where we're going," I said firmly.
"I'll take the lead," Wanda said, stepping forward. "Come on! We don't have much time." I had to admit — seeing her take charge like that was something new. Apparently she just needed the right motivation.
I covered the rear as we moved the people toward safety. True to the old man's word, we found a bunker entrance at the far end of the alley. As we herded the last of them through, the ground gave a sudden, violent shudder.
"What the—" Wanda started.
"The palace!" someone shouted, pointing north.
If the streets looked like a war zone, the palace was no-man's land. It was partially aflame and partially collapsed. And bearing down on it now was a ship larger than anything the Dark Elves had sent — and the moment I laid eyes on its design, my stomach dropped.
It was shaped like a twisted cylinder, wide and flat at both ends. I had seen Ronan use one like it once. A gift from the Mad Titan. And I had seen Thanos himself use the same design when he'd destroyed what remained of the Asgardian refugees.
This was a ship from Thanos' fleet — and it was part of this attack on Asgard.
"This is wrong," I breathed. "It shouldn't be here." I watched as its drop ships detached and fell like fangs from the sky, slamming into the ground and shattering the surrounding structures. They opened up, releasing hundreds of black, four-armed creatures. They poured out and began tearing everything apart — and I understood, with a cold clarity, that perhaps this time my actions had triggered a change so fundamental that even I couldn't predict how this day would end.
"Peter! The sky!" Wanda cried, pointing upward.
Seven enormous rifts had torn open in the sky above us. I could see images through each one — fire through one, ice through another, greenery through a third, and the familiar skyline of Greenwich through a fourth.
"Right... the world-aligning disaster. Forgot about that."
"What do we do?" Wanda asked, her voice tight with worry.
I looked at the tide of Thanos' soldiers flooding the streets toward the palace. The Asgardian army had cleared most of the Dark Elves, but now it was beginning to buckle under the new onslaught. I turned to the civilians still emerging from nearby streets and alleys.
"We need to stop them. And if who I think is on that ship is actually on that ship... then we need to be prepared to leave." I raised my voice. "All of you — get onto every ship you can find and get out of here. This place may not be safe for anyone right now."
"What?! Are you crazy?!" someone called out.
"Listen to me — you are not safe here. None of you. Every one of you needs to find the largest ship you can and fly out of this world. When the danger passes, you can come back. But right now, you need to go!"
"We will not abandon our home!" another voice shouted.
"Then stay and die!" Wanda snapped. "But if the rest of you want to live — run!"
A beat of silence. Then the old man from before spoke up. "The shipyard. There are many vessels there. More than enough for all of us."
"Then get there. Get everyone you can and get out," I told him.
"The others in the other bunkers will need to be warned," the old man realized.
"I'll do it!" A young boy stepped forward from the crowd, standing tall with shining eyes. "I'm the fastest runner in all of Asgard, Uncle Baeter. Let me do it. I'll reach every bunker and spread the word."
"But Stilius—"
"No, uncle. I have to," the boy said, his voice steady. "If I don't do this now, how will I ever call myself an Asgardian?"
Wanda and I looked at each other. We were both deeply impressed.
"Go," I said. "Run hard."
The boy broke into a sprint without another word.
"Wanda — can you reach Jean and Felicia from here?" I asked.
"Still within range," she said, closing her eyes to focus. "On it."
I turned to the remaining civilians and nodded. "Hurry. We'll hold them off as long as we can."
"Brave sir and lady — who are you?" the old man asked.
"My name is Peter. This is Wanda. We're from Midgard, just passing through," I smiled, ignoring the shock that rippled across their faces at the realization that they'd just been saved by two humans.
Wanda and I turned back toward the main road — a long stretch leading directly to the palace, now swarming with Thanos' forces. The Asgardian soldiers were holding a barricade, but they weren't going to hold it for long.
"Any ideas?" she asked. "Because I don't think I can take on that many of those things."
"I might have one," I said slowly. "But I'll be honest — I'm not sure I can sustain it alone."
"What do you need?"
"You have the raw power. I have the focus," I held out my hand. "Team up?"
Wanda raised an eyebrow. "If this is some ploy to recruit me into your harem, you are about to get your ass kicked." But she placed her hand in mine and held on.
"Don't worry," I grinned, closing my eyes. "I think you might enjoy this."
I focused. I knew I had the power — applying it was the challenge. Slowly, the image formed in my mind. Years of studying animal biology rose up to meet it, along with vivid memories of T-rex skeletal structure. I used all of it.
"Woah!" Wanda cried as I projected a sphere of red psionic energy around us and lifted us both into the air on a rising pillar of light.
"Alright, Wanda — link up and feed your power through me. Help me build this." She did. Her raw energy poured through my focus and I directed it outward — first the skeleton, then the musculature, then the mass and the shape and the sheer scale of what I had in mind.
"Peter," Wanda said, caught somewhere between exasperation and awe, "you cannot be serious."
"This," I cried out, throwing our arms wide — a motion the enormous structure around us mirrored as it threw back its own head and unleashed a thunderous cry that turned every head in Asgard,
"IS FREAKING AWESOME!"
"SKREEEOOO!"