New York City, Manhattan. The ruins of Avengers Tower.
It was the dawn of the next day.
Bright sunlight spilled over the city, as if trying to wash away the darkness of the previous night.
The colossal portal in the sky was gone.
The unseasonal snow had stopped falling, and the temperature was rising rapidly, returning the city to its normal spring warmth.
But despite the weather suggesting a rebirth, the mood on the ground was anything but hopeful.
The survivors stood in silence, staring at the aftermath. It looked less like a battlefield and more like the site of a natural disaster.
There was no joy of victory here.
Compared to Brooklyn, which had been overrun by Frost Giants, Manhattan's damage was concentrated but far more severe.
The collapse of two massive structures—Avengers Tower and the Dark Elf flagship—had caused untold casualties.
There were no wounded civilians crying out for help. Why? Because anyone who could move had already fled for their lives hours ago.
All that remained were bodies and debris.
This deathly silence made the "victory" feel incredibly heavy.
The Avengers were gathered here.
Luca and Gwen stood with them.
At this point, trying to hide his identity completely was unrealistic. Even if Tony and the others kept his secret, Luca had used too many distinct gadgets. SHIELD would connect the dots eventually.
Still, Luca didn't step out of the Boxer.
Even if SHIELD and Hydra knew who he was, he wasn't about to give the paparazzi a free shot of his face. It might be good for Stark Industries' stock, but for Luca's personal life? A nightmare.
So, he sat inside his cockpit, playing the role of the stoic robot pilot.
Nobody was in the mood for chatter anyway.
In less than six months, New York had been invaded twice. Each time, the destruction was worse.
Thor broke the silence.
"Look at what you have done!! Is this what you wanted?! Loki!!"
Thor, unable to contain his grief and rage, stormed over to his brother. He grabbed Loki by the collar, his eyes bloodshot.
To Thor, the people of Midgard were under his protection. Seeing them slaughtered by his own brother was tearing him apart.
Loki, handcuffed and held firmly by Captain America and Black Widow, showed no remorse.
Perhaps in this timeline, Loki was too far gone.
Two failed conquests and thousands of deaths had stripped away the last vestiges of the mischievous but redeemable prince. All that remained was the God of Lies, consumed by ambition and malice.
"The road to kingship is paved with blood and sacrifice," Loki sneered.
"You!!"
Hearing such cold words, Thor felt his heart turn to ash. His grip tightened, his knuckles white.
He wasn't the only one.
Everyone present wanted Loki dead.
Even Bruce Banner, whose eyes were flashing green; even Tony, who had sworn to kill him earlier—they were all holding back.
Not because they forgave him.
In fact, back in Brooklyn, Steve Rogers had been ready to end Loki right then and there.
But Natasha and Clint had stopped him.
"Loki must be judged by Asgard. Alive or dead, that is their decision."
Those were Nick Fury's orders.
Loki was a prince of Asgard. Asgard was a superpower far beyond Earth's capabilities. Fury, ever the pragmatist, knew that executing a foreign prince—even a war criminal—could trigger an intergalactic war that Earth couldn't win.
If you are weak, you swallow your pride.
Everyone here knew that bitter truth.
But... in this world, there are always those who refuse to follow the rules.
Just as Tony was about to open his mouth to mock the melodramatic brotherly reunion, a sound cut through the air.
Beep-beep-beep.
A black grenade, flashing with a deadly red light, arced through the air.
"Look out!"
Luca, inside the Boxer, reacted first. He threw the mech's arms wide, shielding Tony, Banner, and Hawkeye, and shoved them backward.
Gwen's Spider-Sense screamed.
She saw the grenade and knew exactly what it was.
Thwip-thwip.
She fired two web lines, snagging Steve and Natasha, yanking them violently away from Loki.
At the same time, the white Haro unit—still linked to Luca's comms—registered the threat. Seeing Steve and Natasha clear, it engaged its thrusters and tackled Thor, carrying the God of Thunder away from his brother.
Whether by accident or design...
Loki, shackled hand and foot, was left alone.
The black hole grenade landed at his feet.
BOOM.
The gravity field detonated.
Loki's eyes widened in genuine terror. For the first time, the arrogance vanished.
"NO!!"
Thor, shoving the Haro unit aside, watched in horror as the singularity opened.
He lunged forward, desperate to save him.
But he was too late.
The black hole swallowed Loki whole, crushing light and matter into nothingness, and then vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
Thor roared in anguish. He spun around, searching for the attacker.
At the entrance of a nearby alley, a lone Dark Elf soldier was lowering his throwing arm.
"DIE!"
Thor swung Mjolnir, launching himself like a missile toward the assassin.
The Dark Elf turned and sprinted into the alley.
Thor crashed into the alley seconds later, ready to tear the elf apart.
But the alley was empty.
The elf was gone. The only things there were a few old, rotting corpses from the initial invasion.
Thor fell to his knees, screaming at the sky.
He pounded the ground with Mjolnir, the stone cracking under his grief.
The other Avengers caught up moments later.
They looked at the empty alley. They looked at the grieving brother.
But strangely... no one made a move to pursue the assassin.
In their eyes, there was no urgency. Only a quiet, grim sense of satisfaction.