March 23rd
It had taken Radcliffe a couple of days until he finally had the time to get around to testing Skye's blood, and a full day after that until he told me he was confident in identifying the different structures in the young woman's DNA that marked her as an Inhuman.
The moment he told me that, I told him to shrink his stuff (easy enough to do with non-organic components, and by now Sterns was far enough in his research that he was capable of manipulating simple vertebrae as well), after which I opened a portal to the empty lands a few klicks out from San Juan.
Joining me were Radcliffe and Skye, Radcliffe since he would be doing most of the research, Skye because she was already smart enough that Holden was willing to take her on as an assistant, because her DNA might prove useful when breaching the Kree City, but more importantly, because it would keep her away from Jessica.
The two women had hit it off right from the get-go, for some reason bonding over teasing the crap out of me, and I honestly felt I wouldn't be able to sleep peacefully if I were to leave those two unsupervised within Othrys (technically, Harper was now in command, but he thought it was funny, even if he refused to show it, and Phineas couldn't care less about my discomfort, since he was currently wrapped up in assembling his first body).
"The entrance to the city is underneath Castillo San Cristobal. I suggest entering after visiting hours. Once on the outskirts of the alien City, set up your lab and begin your first readings. Remember Radcliffe: slow and steady wins the race. Don't go running off into the abandoned alien city touching who knows what and unleashing the Apocalypse on us. Skye, you hereby have my permission to taze Dr. Radcliffe if he shows any signs of breaching any of the Commandments of Reasonable SCIENCE!"
Ignoring Radcliffe's betrayed look and Skye's smug grin, I enlarge a bike that I had kept in my pocket, giving the handles to the dismayed looking scientist.
"If you need more materials, or manpower, just contact me. Either I'll have Pangborn open up a portal, or I'll do it myself, and we can ferry in whatever you need. Just… be careful, alright? Sterns is currently searching the planet for another object that will make all this go a lot easier, so just sit tight and start laying the foundations." I impress upon the scientist, getting an impatient nod in return.
I move to turn away from them, but Holden's hand on my arm stops me in my motions.
"When you go to Spain… when you go see… her… Tell her that I'm sorry. Tell her that leaving her was the dumbest thing that I had ever done. I want to make things right. I know I can make things right, and not just by healing her. But if she doesn't want to come, I'll… I'll understand." The scientist says with feeling, and placing my massive hand on his shoulder, I give him a grave nod.
"I'll tell her Holden. You'll get your second chance, I promise."
And with those words, I turn on my heel, and draw a portal in the air in front of me, the howling winds of Siberia in front of me, the sun of Puerto Rico shining on my back. And with but a step, I'm halfway around the world.
Portals are bullshit.
The entrance to the hidden base is right in front of me. The heavy steel door looks imposing, but I simply portal my way inside the building, arriving in the room where in another time and place, Tony Stark would learn the truth about his parent's deaths (I hadn't portalled straight inside because I still wasn't entirely sure of my accuracy, and I didn't know what would happen if ended up placing my portal inside a wall or something).
I glance around the five Cryo vats arrayed around me. These guys had higher kill counts than Bucky had, before they were enhanced with the supersoldier serum. They were so balls-to-the-wall insane, Hydra thought they were too murder-happy and locked them away to be forgotten. After their enhancement, a single one of them was capable of destabilizing nations.
Compared to me, they were harmless.
Still, after being stuck delegating stuff from behind my desk for months, I was itching for some physical contest, so, dumb as it might be, I walked towards the nearest Cryo vat, the resting face of a large man with a chiseled jaw looking back at me.
My hands dig into the metal of the lid, the heavy iron crumpling underneath my strength, and with a heave I tear it clean from the pod. I let the heavy lid fall to the metal grating with an enormous clang. For a moment, nothing at all happens, as I'm staring motionless at the frozen man in front of me.
Then he opens his eyes, and a boot crashes into my face.
I'm briefly taken off guard by the unexpected attack, and as I take a half-step back, the Winter Soldier has already thrown himself from his pod, easily clearing several feet, completely ignoring his broken foot.
He lands in a rough roll, before coming to his feet with a slight snarl, grabbing the railing of the raised platform, vaulting over it, intent on retreating for now and attacking at a more opportune moment.
Only he doesn't descend.
Looking up, he sees me holding him up in the air by the back of his shirt, my feet hovering about a foot above the ground. With contemptuous ease, I hurl him back to the center of the platform, where he lands roughly on his side, the breath knocked from his lungs.
To his credit, he's on his feet and in a combat stance in a flash, seemingly unbothered by his lack of breath or his broken foot, apparently recognizing that fleeing isn't an option, so fighting it is then.
Foolish mortal.
Fighting isn't an option as well.
Not against me.
The more beastly side of me had been looking forwards to a fight, and adrenaline had been thrumming in my veins when the Winter Soldier's attack took me off guard.
But all it (and I) felt right now was… disappointment.
Luke Cage or Spiderman were already powerful enough to take one of these guys in a fist fight (alright, maybe not Spiderman, but that was solely due to lack of experience, not power).
Compared to me… these guys might be some of the most dangerous humans the world had ever seen, but they were just that.
Human.
Weak.
Landing on the grating in front of the hunkered down supersoldier, I approach him with slow, measured steps, no guard to speak off. The crazed Hydra elite immediately capitalizes on it of course, striking me in the liver with enough strength it would've KO'd every human (and even some superhumans) that were unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of the mighty blow.
It tickled.
He has enough fight in him to leap up, ignoring his broken fist as the other is on a collision course towards my eye (figures people like him will always go for the obvious weakspot of the body), but I've seen enough.
My hand closes around his forearm in a flash (I can move at near supersonic speeds, does he honestly think that he could attack faster than I could react?) and without any effort I lift my hand high above my head, taking the supersoldier with it.
Right as I've extended my hand as far as it will go, the Winter Soldier at the top of his arc in the air, I slam him down onto the ground again, the grating buckling around his body with the force of the impact.
Not giving him a chance to recollect himself (to his credit, he's still conscious. Most people would be either knocked out, or just straight up dead from that move) I bend down, my hand engulfing his head, as I raise him in front of me.
Without ceremony, I head-butt him with enough force I can hear a dry 'crack!' ring out, and as I hold the unconscious man out in front of me, I can see blood run down his forehead.
He'll be fine.
Now then, time to shackle these supersoldiers to my will. Technology alone would be insufficient, Hydra had proven that in the past. Let's see just what I could accomplish when I add magic to the mix, shall we?
March 28th
It had taken me little under a week to slave the Winter Soldiers under my control to the point I was confident that they wouldn't rebel against me. Honestly, at this point they were more like mindless drones, completely incapable of acting without any input from me, though they thankfully retained all their previous skills and were capable of following my orders.
If I said 'topple North-Korea' then they'd do just that, using the skills they had employed in the past for much the same orders. However, if an unknown variable sprung up (for instance, what if both Korea's suddenly joined back together again, basically removing 'North-Korea' from existence) then they'd just shut down, unable to come up with ideas on their own.
Both a comforting thought as well as annoying.
Had I been able to implant Kilgrave's power into myself sooner, this wouldn't have been a problem, but Loki's arrival was getting closer and closer, and I got sick of waiting around. Still, even as… sub-optimal as they were now, they were still powerful tools, and I felt I had made some impressive progress in my magical knowledge as I tried to find ways to slave the Winter Soldiers to my will.
Of course, I wasn't in Siberia non-stop, making sure to portal back home each night, checking in on the progress the others were making.
Most were still advancing their own projects, though Sterns and Phineas had gotten breakthroughs. Phineas had finally finished his body and it honestly looked somewhat like Data from Star Trek (of course) though more basic and barebones. I meant that literally. Phineas had yet to develop a polymer that mimicked skin so he hadn't bothered putting it on the android. He was currently taking it for a test ride within Othrys, even as he was building a more sophisticated body for himself already.
Sterns had been given some small pieces of the Kree City to study from Radcliffe (a disappointed Skye told me the scientist had been a good boy, and that he had followed all of my rules, meaning that she hadn't had the chance yet to taze him) and he had used it to further calibrate his scanner, having picked up several locations in the world with similar energy signatures.
I sent out the five Winter Soldiers to retrieve the items as their first mission in order to test them, after making sure that none of the locations were on S.H.I.E.L.D. grounds (which was more of a chore than you might think, since a depressingly large amount of the signatures that Sterns had found were in S.H.I.E.L.D. storage, which was a damn shame since they probably didn't even know what half of it even did).
Maya and Burstein were completely engrossed in studying Ego's Seed, to the point they barely even acknowledged my presence when I poked my head inside their lab to check up on them. Deciding to leave them to it, I opted to quickly leave (the Venus flytrap that had leaped at my face had nothing to do with it, no sir), before I visited Jessica.
Me and Jessica were… complicated.
She had apparently remembered when I told her I thought she was hot back when I was trying to rile her up in in order for her to let out her emotions and our interactions had changed ever since then.
The teasing back and forth that we had done ever since I recruited her last year was still there, but it was definitely more… flirty, in nature than ever before, with me catching her giving me long, considering looks.
Even worse, I had caught myself giving her similar looks.
Nothing had happened yet, but it was clear that she wouldn't be opposed to something like that. And shallow as it sounded, I wasn't entirely either ever since her transformation.
I had always liked Jessica for her abrasive personality and had respected her for her strong will, and that hadn't changed. It was just that physical attraction never even factored into our interactions since I just didn't feel any towards her. Then there had been the fact that due to my Extremis body heat, there were some… practical concerns to consider.
Now that her own Extremis enhancement had enhanced her to the point that she was looking like a supermodel though…
Sue me, I'm a healthy young male in the prime of his life, with one of his closest female friends being ridiculously hot, of course I'm going to get a bit… exited.
Still, I hadn't made any serious moves towards her because, well, I wasn't sure that I should.
My weird ass origins aside (as well as the fact that I just plain didn't know how to talk to women in that way) Jessica was still my employee first and foremost, and it might be inappropriate if she starts sleeping with her boss.
Also, did I really want to tie myself down to this reality in a romantic fashion?
Sure I had made connections here, even if most of them had been made in the past year, and if I was suddenly presented with a way home tomorrow, I'd be sad to leave them behind (if I was to leave at all…) but still, a relationship?
That was a whole different ballpark entirely.
However, when I raised these concerns (edited in order to leave my extra-dimensionality out of it of course) to Sterns and Harper as we were sipping drinks in my luxurious office (I had finally caved and allowed Jessica to decorate the thing, and thankfully she kept it classy, with warm, dark tones, and subtle golden highlights, somewhat reflecting the grand entrance hall below) both shared a look, before bursting out in laughter.
Well, Sterns did.
Harper just sort of chuckled and gave a shake of his head.
"The hell is so fucking funny?" I growl deeply, taking care to not crush the glass with fine Limoncello in it as I lean forwards.
Sure, Sterns was my friend, and Harper, as dependable and steady as he had shown himself to be, had somehow found himself in a similar category, but opening up like this was still hard, and being laughed at certainly pissed me off.
"Look, I'm not exactly sure I'm the guy you should come to regarding girl problems-… actually, why did you come to me?"
"You're my closest friend." I admit with a shrug, pretending not to see Sterns beam with pride at my statement, before the egghead points over at Harper with his thumb.
"And him?"
Looking up from my glass, I glance between Sterns and Harper a couple of times, before I shrug again.
"He's old."
That finally draws some expression onto Harper's face (only a disgruntled frown though, but I'll take it) even as Sterns laughs out loud again.
As the scientist calms down into mirthful chuckles, he turns back towards me again.
"Look, Michael. When a woman shows interest in you as you're describing Jessica is showing, it doesn't automatically mean that she wants a relationship. She might just want to… experiment a bit. Maybe just go for some casual sex. Jessica is her own woman, Michael, she can make such decisions for herself. You don't have to agonize about your interactions with each other in the future as long as you're sure that she's willing."
I frown at Sterns' words, so Harper jumps in with his own two cents of wisdom.
"Look sir, I've known women like Miss Jones. They get something in their head, a goal, a career, or just plain sex, they go for it, no regrets. Just make sure you're her friend, that she has a good time, and all will turn out alright in the end. Maybe it ends up being a one-time thing. Maybe you end up special friends. Maybe you two fall in love, get married, sell Othrys and buy a house with a white picket fence and have lots of terrifying little mini-monsters together. Maybe. And all that, and more, will always remain a maybe for the rest of your life, until you actually go over to her and try." The aged veteran says in his rough voice, his eyes distant.
I glance at the soldier with a calculating gaze, before Sterns takes my glass from my hand with an impatient look on his face. It takes a few seconds before I catch onto his meaning.
"What, now?!"
"Yes, now! C'mon, get over there!"
Which is why at half past eleven in the evening of March 28th I found myself in front of Jessica Jones' room with a bottle of wine in my hand and a lump in my throat. Clearing it nervously (and mentally cussing out Phineas, who I just know is watching the hallway right now and laughing his non-existent head off), I raise my hand and rap sharply on the smooth wood of her door.
"Who is it?!" I can hear her yell from her bedroom, and once again clearing my throat, I speak up.
"It's me! Uhh, Michael!"
For a moment, I can't hear anything, before the sounds of rapid footsteps ring out from behind the door, and then there she is in the door opening, standing in an oversized shirt which just barely comes to her hips (which does… interesting things to my composure), looking from my nervous expression to the bottle of wine in my hands.
And then she grins.
"Fucking finally."
And before my brain has had a chance to reboot, I'm bodily pulled into Jessica's room, her door clicking shut behind me.
'I should give Sterns a raise.'
That's the last coherent thought I have that night.
April 3rd
I spent roughly a week back at Othrys, just taking it easy for a while as my Winter Soldiers tracked down their respective targets while I continued my lessons and magical testing with Pangborn and Hansen, whenever the scientist found the time, that is. During that week off, me and Jessica had quite a few more… nightly encounters.
Thankfully, our daily interactions remained mostly the same, though neither one of us tried to hide the fact that we were now sleeping together (we didn't advertise it or anything, but we didn't really bother with the Walk of Shame when we spent our nights at the other's room).
The reaction of the other inhabitants of Othrys were surprisingly positive, with people either not really caring or being happy for us (Harper, of course, was one of those who didn't seem to care, whereas Sterns was annoyingly proud of being the one to 'finally' give me the final push).
Even more surprising than that though, was the somewhat disappointed reaction from some of my other female employees.
Nope.
Nu-uh.
Not touching that with a ten foot pole.
I won't even try and imagine the terrible horrors that Jessica would unleash upon me if I were to start sleeping around with other women as well, and she found out about it, even if we were keeping things casual at the moment.
I quite like all my bits attached to me, thank-you-very-much.
During that week Sterns had finally managed to crack the Pym Particles to the point that it would resize even humans without adverse effects, and I had immediately contacted Cross with the good news.
He was absolutely floored that we've been able to crack it so quickly, and he was nearly falling over his feet in pushing some of the other projects that Cross Technologies was struggling with our way. I declined most of them for now, though I promised him that Titan Solutions was more than happy to repeat a similar partnership in the future, with my personal top lawyer already hammering out deals that would keep money flowing into my pockets in the future.
Hogarth's business savvy and the smaller inventions that my scientists kept inventing just in order to do their jobs more efficiently (a new manner of data-sharing, for instance, which Burstein had developed just so that he didn't have to get up from his computer whenever he tried to work on differing projects, had the potential to revolutionize the tech industry, if marketed right) meant that I was currently swimming in more money that I really knew what to do with.
Sure, building Othrys had put a massive dent in my funds, but my deals with Verizon and AT&T had easily filled that back up again. I almost had China Mobile Ltd. as well, but Stark swooped in with an entirely new satellite system which he sold to them, using pre-existing contacts that I hadn't even known that he possessed.
That was actually becoming the song and dance of the tech rivalry between our companies.
Titan Solutions was truly revolutionary, nobody could deny that anymore, not even Stark's staunchest supporters. But whenever big companies started flocking towards the new tech, Tony pulled something equally innovative out of his ass, and by using Stark Industries longstanding reputation and established connections, always managed to net the truly big whales that I had been hoping to get for myself.
That wasn't to say that he was just playing catch-up though. In a brilliant move, he had vowed to start fixing America's abysmal roads before I had even managed to start putting out feelers into the construction world, and it was only because I focused on a different aspect (the exo-suits I had Adrian's company use, as well as a cheaper, far inferior knock-off of ferrocrete) meant that I had been able to steal some of the really big companies away from his camp.
Still, I was happy to let Hogarth deal with that aspect of my life, while I concentrated on collecting ancient powerful artifacts in order to get ever closer to godhood, and she was doing a damned fine job of it too.
With the Pym Particles basically done, I had expected Sterns to whip out something else, but to my surprise he kept on being engrossed in Hank Pym's masterpiece. When I asked him about it, he told me that the Particles were just scratching the surface.
"Shrinking is all well and good, but at its basic principles, these Particles are interacting with the Quantum Realm somehow. Quantum, Michael! Even to me, that stuff is weird! I love it!"
After extracting a promise from my friend that he wouldn't inadvertently shrink himself to the mind-breaking universe (retrieving him could be done, but it would be an enormous pain in the ass, not to mention the fact that, if I weren't bald, I would probably go gray from worry in the meantime), I left Sterns to his own devices as he played around with Quantum Mechanics.
Worries about the egghead were pushed from my mind, however, when the Winter Soldiers returned to the agreed upon rendezvous, which was the base I had found them in (even as morally flexible as some of my employees were, and despite the fact that each and every Winter Soldier was a mass murdering Nazi psychopath, after news of Kilgrave's actions spread through Othrys, most of them had found that the idea of mind control left a bad taste in their mouths, so I made sure to never bring the Winter Soldiers close to my base).
They had retrieved two things I couldn't even begin to guess what their function was, one amulet of sorts, one straight pole thing that I was fairly sure was a weapon or something, and finally the grand prize.
A diviner.
I ordered them back into cryo, took the various Kree artifacts back to Othrys, teleported to Radcliffe's laboratory in the outskirts of the Kree City (startling Skye so badly she tazed me. She blushed like mad at the utterly flat look I sent her as I slowly plucked the sparking wires from my the bridge of my nose) handed the Diviner over to Radcliffe, and then teleported back towards Europe.
There was just one last item that I wanted to get, which was scattered in several countries, the last one that I wanted to visit being Spain, where there were two people that I wanted to talk to.
The first country that I went to was Ireland, stepping out into the small garden behind a certain church in the middle of the night, the street lights providing ample illumination. I wanted to make sure that the premises were abandoned before I started searching for the first piece of the Beserker staff, which is why I hadn't teleported straight inside.
I strained my senses to the limit, and when I didn't hear, see, smell or sense anyone, I moved my hands in intricate patterns, calling a cradle of light into being in between my palms. Various glowing circles spun rapidly within ever-changing rectangles, and after studying the glyphs intently for a few moments, I saw that the spell (which would reveal the location of nearby sentient beings) didn't pick up anything in the vicinity.
Quickly flying up to the bell tower, I managed to make my way inside, easily breaking the padlock that had kept the trapdoor shut. Once inside the darkened church, I immediately started to make my way towards where the bit of the Berserker staff was kept, which was inside a small wooden safe, mounted on the wall and out of the way.
Hiding in plain sight.
Again, the lock on it didn't even give me a moment's pause, but I did hesitate for a moment when I finally looked at the smooth metallic surface of the Asgardian weapon.
I had come to a pretty good understanding with the darker side of me, and I possessed a body that could more easily handle the strain of the mystic weapon than a human would. In theory, I should be relatively fine when wielding the ancient artefact.
Still though…
Eventually I forced myself to stop dicking around, and reached out in a flash, my enormous hand closing over the smooth grip of the Berserker Staff, the mythical weapon immediately lighting up in a plethora of Nordic looking runes.
The moment my skin made contact with the weapon, adrenaline slammed into my body, kicking my Extremis into overdrive, the glow of my veins matching the glowing runes on the weapon. Deep inside my mind, no, my very soul, I felt that darker side of me roar to life with a snarl.
But I was still in control.
I was angry, ridiculously so, while I could feel the more beastly side of me was getting stronger by the minute.
But there was no conflict between my instincts and my will. I had made peace with myself, body and soul, during Bast's trials, and compared to that ordeal, the efforts of the Staff to try and drag my worst memories and burning hatred to the foreground of my thoughts were almost laughable.
Focusing my chi to flow through my hand, enveloping the Staff in a soft golden glow, I felt the tempest that had been raging inside my mind start to slowly settle down, though it wasn't gone, that thirst for battle still very prominently in my thoughts.
But I was steadily calming down, becoming more and more focused as the burning hatred invoked by the Staff was shackled by my will and turned into calculating anger instead.
Something that I could use.
I could tell that I was now stronger than ever before, but I wasn't sure just how much stronger I had become, and I'd have to return to the fortified testing facilities of Othrys if I want to find out.
Still, I'm not done yet.
There are still the remaining parts of the Staff to collect, after all.
In order to give myself a bit more focus (it's not as if I'm about to do battle any time soon anyways), I place the piece of the Staff inside a duffelbag I had brought along, before I concentrated on casting a portal.
Stepping through the glowing tear in the fabric of space, I emerge in a heavily forested area. I'm currently deep in the woods of Trillemarka National Park, Norway, where the Warrior Who Stayed his a part of his Staff inside one of the legion of trees surrounding me.
Thankfully, searching for a needle in a haystack can be very easy if you do it right.
All you need is a magnet.
Reaching into the duffelbag that I had slung around my shoulder, I take out the broken piece of ancient metal, controlling the wave of hatred and rage far easier now that I know what to expect.
Holding the Berserker weapon in one hand, I close my eyes as I lift my other one, a magical array of eldritch energy springing to life around it. It's not even a proper spell, really, more a question of intent.
I'm searching the woods around me for an energy signature similar to the piece of the Staff I'm currently holding in my other hand. In principle, it worked somewhat similar to Sterns' Spectrometer, which is why I had brought the device along should my Mystic skills prove insufficient.
Still, never skip Magic-training day, is my motto, and I always try to first try things with Magic, before I solve my problems with my tech.
Or my fists, if the need arises.
Thankfully, Hansen's (and mine) research into the fundamentals of channeling energy and bending it towards your will for a certain desired purpose has paid off, since my barebones bit of 'coding', as the Ancient One occasionally calls it, does it work perfectly.
An exact match to the energy signature in my hand, a hundred feet away to my right, and roughly twenty feet up.
Quite a climb, especially for humans about a thousand years ago, which explains why the Warrior thought it was an adequate hiding place.
I fly over towards the location of the second piece in a matter of moments, rustling leaves in my wake as I spot the enormous tree standing in a clearing, a circle of ancient stones surrounding it.
Since the centuries that the Asgardian warrior had left his weapon here, the old tree has grown around the metal, consuming it completely. Thankfully, my strength allows me to crack the trunk of the tree open like an egg, the dry wood splintering with a thunderous 'crack!' which echoes throughout the forest.
And right there in the middle, exposed to the open air for the first time in centuries, lies the second piece of the Berserker staff. Without hesitation, my hand closes around it's runed surface, the ancient inscriptions lighting up with a hellish glow as I do.
Once again, a tidal wave of rage crashes over me, my darkest memories –a knife slipping into a throat, blood splattering the faceplate of my helmet- being brought to the fore.
Once again, I master myself, shunting the hate down and chaining it, bringing it under my control.
Taking the other piece of the Staff, I hold their broken edges against each other, twisting them a bit until I feel the grooves and notches of the breaks slide smoothly into place, like finishing a puzzle.
Almost immediately, the Asgardian weapon flares with light and power, and the two halves are joined together flawlessly, as if they had never been broken at all.
One piece now remains.
Straightening myself, I place the nearly complete weapon back into the duffelbag as I focus intently on creating another portal, my concentration growing stronger as the haze of mindless anger slowly subsides.
And with but a step, I leave Norway, and arrive in Spain.
Portals. Are. Bullshit.
Standing on the Plaza del Salvador (or more accurately, floating about a mile above it, since I didn't want to draw any attention to myself with the glow of the portal), I gaze down at Iglesio el Salvador, the impressive cathedral appearing imposing and mysterious in the various city lights of Seville. Still, as beautiful as the church is, I'm more interested in what lies underneath it, specifically the Roman tombs hidden away there.
Finding my way inside the church is just as easy as entering the church back in Ireland was, and once inside, I find that all that's standing between me and the final piece of my new weapon is a slim, wrought-iron gate.
Sending a mental apology to the clergy that works here, I easily break the lock, and stride into the cloying darkness of the ancient catacombs.
Once again I take the Staff outside the bag, using its energy signature to home in on the remaining piece, my enormous size meaning that I'm constantly bumping my head against the low hanging ceiling as I make my way down the winding passage ways, sometimes even being forced to duck in order to fit through some of the smaller ones.
Still, after more than five minutes, I can feel a very strong signature resonating from my left, and as I sharply turn in that direction, I find myself looking at a… tomb.
Of fucking course.
Giving a sigh (and a silent prayer to the deceased, just in case) I grab the top of the stone coffin, dragging it hallway out of its alcove in order to better reach it. Shoving the solid stone lid off is a piece of cake, and as I wave away the dust that springs up as I remove it, I can finally see the final piece.
Clutched in the skeletal claws of the coffin's long-time occupant.
Swallowing down my slight revulsion, I gently pry apart the mummified fingers, and take the last piece of the Staff from its hiding place. Since standing in the absolute darkness surrounded by skeletons is starting to give me the creeps, I quickly exit the church, flying up into the night sky with a grateful gulp of air, reveling in the lack of claustrophobic confinement as I soar free as a bird.
Calming down a bit, I place the broken tip of the Berserker Staff onto its brethren, and just like before, once the grooves and scratches line up with each other, the two parts fuse together seamlessly, the entire weapon now lighting up in glowing runes and swooping lines.
The tidal wave of rage is not only stronger now than before, I can tell it's more complete as well. It doesn't just slam adrenaline into my body, putting its fight-or-flight response into overdrive, its working on a deeper, more magical level as well.
It's not just trying to make me angry, it's trying to make me completely lose my shit, to become a rampaging monster literally too angry to think about ways to counteract and control my own rage.
My respect for Agent May's and Elliot Randolph, for not just wielding the damned thing, but actually summoning the willpower to let go of it as well, coming out of the experience relatively unscathed (though I now understand Randolph's vow of complete pacifism a lot better now. Wielding this thing, waging war with it… it's going to leave scars, even on Asgardian warriors).
Speaking of the good Mr. Randolph…
April 4th
After spending the rest of the night high up in the air above the Atlantic Ocean (though making sure I was well below the flight paths of any possible airlines) trying to master both myself and the Berserker Staff, I returned to Seville the next day, having found Randolph's lesson plan online.
Since I knew that stealth was out of the question if I were to visit him at Seville University (there were spells for concealment and infiltration, but that was much too refined for me to attempt with any real confidence for now), I decided to wait until late in the evening, knowing when Randolph would return to his home off-campus.
Sure enough, around half past seven pm, the disguised Asgardian warrior leisurely made his way towards his car, throwing a jaunty wave to a rather pretty student that had accompanied him to the unassuming vehicle.
Still a few miles off the ground, I began to easily tail the professor as he made his way home, floating along almost bored. Since I could just fly in a straight line, without traffic lights, pedestrians or other vehicles in my way, I had to slow down significantly in order to keep up with the University professor, who was visibly getting annoyed as he was forced to deal with aforementioned obstacles.
Still, after an uneventful twenty minutes, we arrived at his residence (I could've flown here straight away of course, but since Randolph is a bit of a hedonist, there was every chance that he might have had something planned for tonight, which didn't involve sleeping at his place), and the Asgardian quickly made his way inside.
I waited for a couple of minutes in order to appear less suspicious (I was a renowned superhuman and successful business man from New York, me appearing on the doorstep of a Professor of Nordic Mythology would be suspicious anyway), before I dropped down in a nearby alleyway, and then I quickly crossed the street and knocked on the Warrior's door.
After a few moments I could hear footsteps approaching, and then Elliot Randolph, known in a distant past as the Warrior Who Stayed opened the door, glancing up at me with surprise clear in his eyes.
"You?"
"Good evening, Mr. Randolph. Might I come in please?"
For a moment, the Asgardian is completely flatfooted, before he regains his composure and gives me a quick nod.
"Of course, of course. Come in, make yourself at home!"
As I step over the Asgardian's threshold I'm surprised to find… well, that there's nothing really to find. I had half-expected to feel some powerful ward scheme's surrounding the doorway, or for some mystical artefacts to be placed on coffee tables or something.
But the house I step into is just about as mundane as you can imagine, the picture perfect example of an intellectual's home, with cozy furniture, and books scattered everywhere.
If it weren't for my meta-knowledge, I would never have guessed that this was the home of an alien warrior.
Which was precisely the point, I suppose.
"Do you want some coffee? Thee perhaps?" Randolph asks, and if it weren't for the miniscule micro-expressions I can spot, I would've thought that the man was completely calm.
"Just water is fine, thank you." I reply in a soft tone as I make my way over to the couch in the living room, while Randolph goes off towards the kitchen to fix me my drink.
"I have to say, I'm quite surprised to find you here, Mr. McCole, especially unannounced and at this hour. May I ask what brought you-" Randolph's words die in his throat when he returns to the living room, his eyes falling on the complete Berserker Staff in my hands, the glow of its sigils lighting up the room.
"Well, I stumbled over this fascinating little thing here, you see, and I found myself wanting an expert's opinion on it. Hence why I approached you." I say with a calm voice as I rise from the couch, absolutely towering over the diminutive Professor.
As a testament to his history as part of Asgard's elite fighting force, he doesn't show a hint of fear at being confronted with the first man in millennia who can probably beat him in a straight up fight, especially since I'm wielding the Staff, raw energy coursing through me.
However, I can also see the visible effort he puts into not reacting to the threat I present to him, forcing his body to not fall into a reflexive combat stance, his arms still loose and his guard wide open.
Randolph takes his vow of pacifisms dead serious, and I just now that even if I were to attack him now with deadly force, he won't fight back against me.
I can respect such an iron conviction.
°Well, I'm happy to lend my expertise on examining a piece of history I had always thought was merely part of myth and legend. Though, if I may ask, how exactly, did you… stumble over this artefact? The legends say that the Staff was broken in three pieces and expertly hidden, lost to the world lest its dark powers fall into the wrong hands." Randolph asks in a neutral tone of voice, still trying to keep up appearances.
Let's put a stop to that, shall we?
"Expertly hidden you say? I find myself doubting the Warrior's sense of judgement if that's the case. The pieces were easy to find, especially if you knew what to look for and where, and they were completely unprotected. Add in the debacle of the Tesseract, and I have to ask myself whether Asgardians as a people are simply incapable of hiding valuable artefacts." I rumble in dark amusement as I approach the former Berserker, who cannot quite contain a slight bristle at my mocking words.
"The fact that the pieces remained hidden for well over a millennium begs to differ, I think." The Professor says sharply, and I clamp down on the anger that's been singing in my veins ever since I assembled the Staff.
I want to befriend this Asgardian, or at least turn him into my ally, not alienate him against me.
"Fair enough. Tell me about them." I say with a tilt of my head, drawing a surprised look from Randolph.
"Tell you about them? Who?"
"Asgardians."
"You want me to tell you about Asgardians? Why?"
"Well, ever since a certain hammer fell from the sky in New Mexico, I've been rather interested in the Nordic Pantheon, and you are definitely the world's leading expert on that subject. So, tell me about them."
Running a hand through his thinning curls, Randolph gives me an inquisitive look.
"Well, what exactly would you want to know?"
"Everything you're willing to tell me."
For a moment, indecision wars in the Asgardian's eyes, as they flicker from my calm face to the burning weapon in my hands and back. Eventually he seems to decide that keeping me in engaged in conversation is preferable to leaving me to my own devices with an emotion-influencing ancient weapon and he takes a seat in the nearest chair with a sigh, as I sit down on the couch in front of him.
"Well, if you want to know everything about the Asgardians, I suppose it's best to start at the beginning. You see, once there was the void, and from the void came two realms…"
I kept Randolph talking all through the night, not having to fake my interest in the slightest as I learned small and intricate details of Thor's world that had never even been touched upon in the movies or shows. Their more obscure customs, the tales they told each other, their dreams and fears.
Oh there were the big things of course, the wars and conquests and peacekeeping (I didn't ask the Warrior about Hela, since I felt that that would both be a bit of a sore subject, and I had the feeling merely uttering her name would cause Heimdall's vision to snap in my direction), but the really interesting things were much smaller and mundane.
Did you know that there are no less than 250 different hairstyles for men and women in Asgardian culture, each one representing something different, from just a general mood, to a certain fashion, to even showcasing your marital status?
I hadn't until that night.
After talking for hours on end about his people, eventually unable (or just uncaring) about hiding his plain to see nostalgia as he thought about long lost friends and family, I could tell that the ex-Berserker was starting to warm up to me, though he kept giving the Staff long considering glances.
Eventually, as the first lights of the new day slowly started to enter his living room, I decided to finally make my move.
"Fascinating. Truly fascinating. Asgardian culture is both so old and yet so advanced, the dichotomy it creates and the culture that forms from it… thank you for your impromptu lecture, Professor Randolph. I'm very interested in learning more about these interesting people, so might I make you an offer?" I speak up as the Warrior takes a short brake in order to drown his glass of water, his throat somewhat tired from speaking all through the night.
"You may certainly make me an offer. Whether I'll accept or not is another matter entirely."
"I want you to come back to Othrys with me."
That certainly gets his attention, as he sits up straighter in his chair, fixing me with a sharp look.
"And why would I want to involve myself any further with your hectic life? I'm quite content with my job at the University here, the food is nice, the women are good looking and the weather is almost always pleasant. Why would I walk away from that?"
"Because Asgard's eye will soon return to Midgard, and I don't think you'll want them taking a look around and recognizing a certain Professor at a certain University." I say bluntly, drawing a sigh from the other man.
"So, we're done pretending that you don't already know who I am then. Look kid, a thousand years ago, I went AWOL from one of the most bloodthirsty forces in Asgard's employ. And during all that time, I kept my head down, stayed out of trouble, and lived a life of piece, and Asgard's Watcher either never noticed me, or just thought I wasn't worth the bother anymore. Why would I jeopardize that?"
"Like I said, in the not too distant future, Asgard will gain a vested interest in Earth and I can guarantee you, you won't be able to go unnoticed then, not when you're surrounded by mundane humans as you are now. But in Othrys? You could stand in full battle armor on my front lawn roaring a battlecry to the heavens and they wouldn't even bother to look in your direction, since they would be too busy staring at my fire-breathing T-Rex. Besides, I offer luxurious room and board, and the latest Midgardian technologies will be at your disposal. You can either see it as a long holiday, or you can actually work there. We're currently researching and testing various branches of Magic, you're input would be immensely valuable." I press on, and I can see that Randolph's starting to get tempted.
"I'm not that familiar with magic myself kid. I was a mason before I joined the army, and my Staff was just handed to me, I don't know how it works, just what it does. You really are studying magic? You might already know more than me." The professor scoffs, and with a grin, I stand up from the couch, my massive form looming over him, the staff held loosely in my hand.
As I focus, I start channeling energy through the staff, making the glyphs inscribed upon it glow even brighter, until the light it's giving off is nearly blinding. And then I use the tip to draw a circle in the air, a glowing, sparking line following my movements.
And just like that, a portal to North Brother Island, New York is opened in the living room of Professor Randolph.
Turning to look at him over my shoulder, I give him a challenging grin.
"Care to find out?"
For a few very long, tense moments, the ex-Berserker remains seated in his arm chair, a thoughtful look on his face as he keeps looking between his old Staff and the portal I just made.
Eventually, he lets out a massive grin and rises from his chair with a spring in his step, fearlessly approaching the portal as he rubs his hands in excitement.
"Well what are we waiting for? You had a fire-breathing dinosaur, you said?"
And just like that, Othrys is host to its first Asgardian.
April 6th
Since I hadn't slept for two days ever since I set out to collect both the Berserker Staff, and her original wielder, I decided to go to bed after getting Randolph sorted. Sleeping for a whopping six hours (twice as long as I usually slept) left me fully energized and I set out to finally fulfill a promise I had made to one of my co-workers, leaving Randolph in Hansen's hands (the Asgardian immediately began flirting with the pretty scientist of course), once again teleporting to Spain.
This time I went to Caldes de Montbui, to a residential area in the old city center where Agnes Kitsworth lived, the woman who Radcliffe loved but couldn't fix. Walking around in broad daylight in a city in Spain when just that morning I had been in New York was rather conspicuous, but I had promised Radcliffe that I would see to this personally, and the scientist was far too valuable me to alienate by not backing up my promises to him.
Which is why I smiled brightly when Agnes herself opened the door after I had found her address.
"Mrs. Kitsworth? I'm here on behalf of someone who really want to meet you. Holden Radcliffe apologizes for everything that he has done to push the two of you apart, and he has asked me to ask whether or not you're willing to hear him out. He said that if you don't want to see or speak to him again, he'll understand and respect your decision."
For a moment, the woman merely blinks in surprise at my torrent of information, before she narrows her eyes.
"If Holden's so damned sorry, then why did he send you? Couldn't he be bothered to come in person?"
"At the moment, he's working on a crucial project for me, though I have given him permission to take time of if you are willing to meet with him. He's waiting for you now, I can take you to him if you want so that he can explain everything?" I offer, and Agnes takes quite a while to decide whether or not she'll accept, or if she'll slam the door in my face.
Finally, she gives out a long sigh as she steps out of her house, closing the door behind her and turning towards me with her hands on her hips, a stern look on her face.
"Alright then, where is her?"
"If you'll just hold on Miss, this will only take a moment."
And without ceremony, I scoop the lithe woman up in my arms, ignoring her startled squeak which turns into a frightened scream when I shoot up towards the sky. Before the air can become too cold for the dying woman, I come to a halt, making a circle with my hands as best I can as I'm holding onto her.
"What are you-"
That's as far as she gets, her eyes going wide as her mouth falls open when she sees the portal hanging in midair in front of her. She briefly flinches when I make my way through, but her shock turns into awe when we arrive on the far outskirts of San Juan in Puerto Rico, the sun here just cresting the horizon, throwing the stunning landscape in beautiful golden colors.
She's so absorbed with her surroundings, she doesn't even notice that we're descending, and it takes Holden a couple of discreet coughs before she sees him standing somewhat sheepishly next to a pick nick blanket.
"Surprise?" the scientist tentatively tries, and Agnes doesn't respond at first, appearing completely floored by this roller coaster of events.
Then, without a word, she walks up really close to a surprised Radcliffe, leans in close and-
SMACK!
-slaps him across the face.
For a moment, everything is silent, before Holden turns back towards his fuming girlfriend, rubbing a glowing red cheek.
"Fair enough, I probably deserved that one."
"Start talking. Now."
Realizing that my task here is done, I discreetly back off from the couple as Holden begins to pour his heart out to the woman, floating up and quickly stepping through a portal, back towards Othrys.
There's an Asgardian who's brain I want to pick, an ancient weapon I want to train with, a Celestial's flesh I want to study and incorporate into myself, Inhuman and Kree powers that I need to pilfer, and Magic that I need to learn.
So much to do, so little time.
At least my evenings tend to be a lot more enjoyable than they used to be.
May 3rd
"God I fucking hate this dress. It's so uncomfortable."
"I think it makes you look pretty."
"I said that I was uncomfortable, Michael, not that I was ugly."
"I know. Still think you look amazing in a dress though."
"Well, look all you want now buster, after tonight it's back to jeans and leather jackets for me, thank fucking God."
"You say that now, but I just now that Skye's going to take one look at you right now, and then drag you off to a shopping spree once a month."
"Skye? Clearly you don't know her as well as I do, the girl hates dresses and fancy shit as much as I do! That's what I like about her!"
"She couldn't afford fancy shit, Jess. She lived out of a van for crying out loud! Now she's got a big fat pay-check and basically lives in a magical castle. Of course she's going to go on a shopping spree sooner or later, she already went on one to assemble her workspace with all those goddamn laptops she started ordering like crazy."
"Oh just shut up and hand me another champagne will you?"
"Yes dear."
And with a smile on my face, I turned away from the smoking hot Jessica Jones in a tight red dress, halting a waiter that was about to pass me by, the youth paling somewhat as he cranes his neck in order to look me in my glowing eyes.
"Bitte. Wir hätten gerne noch einen Champagner?" (Excuse me. We would like another Champagne?)
Before the boy can nod and be off, Jessica speaks up from around me, leaning forwards slightly and exposing a generous amount of cleavage as she does so, which causes an impressive blush to appear on the youth (and reflexively, for a low growl to come from deep within my chest).
"Bring uns einfach die ganze Flasche mit." (Just bring us the entire bottle.)
As the boy nods again and quickly leaves (I think my audible anger at his staring scared him quite a bit) I turn towards my date for the evening with a raised eyebrow, to which Jessica simply shrugs.
"We've been in Stuttgart for two days now, the Brain Booster allows me to pick things up easy enough. German isn't that difficult to learn anyways."
Grinning at her, I can't help myself and lean in to steal a quick kiss, which clearly takes her by surprise, though she quickly reciprocates with equal enthusiasm. As we separate, she gives me a searching look, though a slight smile is playing around her lips.
"What the hell was that for?"
"Nothing in particular. I was just thinking about how lucky I am to be with someone that beautiful, and that smart. And they're even the same person!"
Playfully elbowing me in the side (a baseline human would've been thrown clear across the ballroom) Jessica rolls her eyes at my joke, since she knows that as far as I'm concerned, she has absolutely no competition.
While what we had at the end of March when we first started sleeping together was very much a casual thing between good friends, whatever we have now is definitely more than that, even if we have yet to really discuss just what our relationship is at this point.
I do know one thing though.
I'm starting to fall head over heels in love with Jessica Jones, probably the most abrasive woman in fiction.
It seems that my life just keeps on getting weirder.
The boy from before is back quite quickly with a bottle of Champagne in hand (though he's careful to keep his eyes from wandering this time. I approve) and as I take the drink from him, I start filling up my date's glass.
Just as I've finished doing that however, right as I want to fill my own glass as well, I can see my target for tonight moving in the back of the room over Jessica's shoulder. Placing my empty glass on the table next to us, I snatch Jessica's Champagne from her hands right as she's about to drink from it.
"Hey! What gives?"
In response to her indignant growl, I step closer to her, and give a significant nod in the direction my target has just walked out of the room.
"Our victim is here. Time to get into action."
"Really? Now? We just ordered Champagne!" Jessica says with a bit of a whine, and I can't quite keep the amusement I feel from showing on my face as I look down at her forlorn expression.
"Well, we can always dance in the meantime, until the moment arrives where we can take him down."
"Wait, dance? What-"
But I cut her off by simply grabbing her by the middle and swerving my way onto the dance floor of the ballroom, easily stepping into the rhythm of the waltz that had been playing in the background, performed by a live orchestra, of course.
As I guide Jessica across the floor she keeps scowling at me, and I'm convinced that some of her stumbling is faked, just so that she can stomp on my feet a couple of times.
"I don't do dancing, Michael!" she hisses at me, but I've known her well and long enough by know that I can tell from the look in her eyes that's she's grudgingly enjoying herself.
So I just spin her around once more, before catching her in my arms again and taking off across the dance floor, my face split by a massive grin.
"I thought that you said that with the Brain Booster you picked up stuff easy enough?" I tease, and though she mock-scowls at me, she can't deny the fact that what I'm saying is true.
Already, her movements are smoother than before, and after another two rounds across the dancefloor, she's dancing as well and as natural as I am, our movements in perfect sync to the beat of the music.
As we twirl underneath a massive chandelier, her in a beautiful dress, me in a sharp tuxedo, we look into each other's eyes, smile and-
"Now."
-at Jessica's mark, we use the momentum of our latest twirl to move off the dancefloor completely, instead now standing several feet away, barring the path of a young man with slicked back black hair and a cane in his hand.
The man looks up in surprise as I'm suddenly standing before him, but to his credit, his hand immediately shoots out towards the cane that he had been twirling around and that was now hanging suspended in mid-air.
I'm faster.
My hand closes around the smooth golden metal and I immediately draw back my arm and throw it further into the building, where it punches straight through a support pillar and ends up burying itself into the far wall.
"Babe."
"On it!"
And with a blur, Jessica's now standing next to the disguised spear, and with a heave rips it straight out of the wall, great chunks of concrete falling away with it. Another blur, and she's gone from the premises completely, heading towards our rendezvous.
The young looking man turns back towards me with a murderous scowl, showcasing impressive senses and reflexes if he was capable of following all that, the edges of his form already flickering with golden light.
He opens his mouth, probably to threaten me, or maybe to monologue, but once again the element of surprise allows me to be faster.
"Loki Laufeyson. I don't believe you have an invite to this party. We can't have that now, can we?"
And with that, I perform my most audacious act since I have woken up in this universe more than twenty years ago.
I punch a god in the face.
AN: I am so terribly sorry that it took so long to get this out. I am extremely unhappy with it, and every single part of it was rewritten between three to five times individually, meaning that there are literally hundreds of different versions of this chapter in the end. Like I said, not too happy with it, and the second part especially is complete crap, but I'm absolutely exhausted. Feel free to give me your critiques and I'll get started on the rewrite this week. University has started again though, so my update speed will definitely be dialed back a bit. As much as I love writing, it still takes a backseat to my studying and this year will be the toughest one yet. About the whole Jessica thing, I hope her altered appearance doesn't come across as an ass-pull or wish fullfilment. I tried to give a somewhat believable explanation as to why Michael would suddenly feel any physical attraction towards her (because I was steadily coming around to the idea of those two ending up together) and an Extremis transformation a la Steve Rogers to Captain America felt like it might fit. I dunno, let me know your thoughts.
Fun Fact: The scene in Captain America, the First Avenger, where Peggy Carter reaches out to touch the glistening pec of a recently transformed Steve Rogers wasn't scripted. Hayley Atwell, who portrays Carter, hadn't seen Chris shirtless before, and one set, during the shooting of the scene, she couldn't help herself and gave the good Captain a little squeeze. Joe Johnston, the director of the movie, felt that it fit in the scene, so cast and crew just rolled with it, though you can see a few people in the background break character for a bit.
As I do at the end of every chapter, I want to extend my thanks to my amazing Patrons, AndrewDC_MAC2, Miu, justlovereadin, Carn Krauss, ReapeScythe, Thordur hrafn and Daniel Dorfman! You have all of my thanks, I cannot believe the monumental amounts of support you guys are giving me, thanks so much!