If you've ever wondered what it's like to surf on a hoverboard made of alien scrap metal and bad intentions while moving at eighty miles per hour, let me spoil it for you: it's terrifying.
The Chitauri chariot didn't have seatbelts. It didn't have a windshield. It had a magnetic footplate and a steering column that felt like it was fighting me every inch of the way.
"Bank left!" Natasha screamed over the wind.
I yanked the controls hard. The chariot lurched, banking so steeply that for a second, I was staring directly down at the panicked ants of 5th Avenue. A bolt of purple energy sizzled past my ear, singing the fabric of my hoodie.
"I hate this!" I yelled, correcting the wobble. "I want a refund on this ability!"
"Focus, Atlas!" Steve shouted from behind me. He was anchored to the rear rail, his shield deflecting fire from a pair of pursuers. "Get us to the tower!"
We were twenty stories up, weaving through the concrete canyons of Manhattan. The sky was a mess of grey smoke, blue beams, and flying metal. Being on the ground was bad; being in the air was suicide.
[VEHICLE STATUS] [Hull Integrity: 62%] [Engine Temp: Critical] [Autopilot: DISABLED (Manual Override Active)]
I wasn't really flying. I was letting the [Beginner's Pilot] passive skill guide my hands, but it was like trying to steer a shopping cart with a missing wheel.
"Two on our tail," Natasha reported, her voice calm despite the fact she was leaning out over a hundred-foot drop to return fire with a Chitauri rifle she'd picked up. "They're faster than us."
I glanced at the minimap floating in my peripheral vision. Red dots were swarming us. We were a anomaly—a Chitauri craft flying erratically—and the hive mind didn't like it.
"I can't shake them!" I gritted out. "They know the terrain better than I do!"
"Stark!" Steve yelled into his comms. "We've got bogies at your six o'clock. Can you assist?"
"Busy!" Tony's voice came back, strained. "I've got a giant worm trying to eat me. Handle it, Cap!"
"Great," I muttered. "We're on our own."
The chariot shuddered as a plasma bolt clipped our stabilizer. We dropped ten feet instantly, my stomach launching into my throat.
[SYSTEM ALERT] [Threat Calculation: FATAL CRASH IMMINENT in 12 seconds.] [Suggestion: Use the environment.]
I looked ahead. We were barreling toward the glass façade of a corporate skyscraper. The reflection showed our pursuers—two sleek chariots lining up for the kill shot.
"Hold on!" I screamed.
I didn't turn away from the building. I gunned the engine.
"Atlas, pull up!" Steve warned.
"Trust the script!" I lied. There was no script for this. Just a desperate, glowing blue line the System had drawn on my retina.
I drove straight at the glass. At the last possible millisecond, I slammed the controls down.
The chariot dipped, scraping its underbelly against the building's windows with a screech that set my teeth on edge. We dove under a connecting skybridge.
The Chitauri behind us weren't so lucky. Or rather, they weren't so creative. The first one tried to follow the dive but clipped the skybridge. It spun out, crashing into its wingman. A ball of fire erupted behind us, raining debris down onto the street.
[STUNT SUCCESS: "The Thread the Needle"] [XP Gained: 150] [Reputation with Black Widow increased.]
I leveled us out, gasping for air. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely hold the yoke.
"Nice flying," Natasha said. I could hear the smirk in her voice. "Where did you learn to do that?"
"Mario Kart," I wheezed.
"What?"
"Classified training program."
We were getting close. Stark Tower loomed ahead, the giant "STARK" letters already missing the 'K'. The portal above it was a swirling vortex of doom, and right at the top, on the balcony, I could see the silhouette of Loki fighting... Thor?
No. Not fighting. Talking.
My heart skipped a beat. This was the moment. The "Look at what I've done" villain monologue.
"Drop us on the lower platform," Steve ordered. "Natasha needs to get to the roof to close the portal. I need to coordinate the ground game."
"And me?" I asked, guiding the smoking chariot toward the wide landing pad where Tony usually landed his suit.
Steve looked at me. His blue eyes were serious. "You stay alive, Atlas. You've done enough."
I frowned. Done enough? I was just getting started.
I brought the chariot in for a landing. It wasn't graceful—we hit the concrete hard, sparks flying, and skidded to a halt near the glass doors leading into the penthouse bar area.
We scrambled off just as the engine finally gave up the ghost and caught fire.
"Go," Steve told Natasha. "Get to the scepter."
She nodded and sprinted toward the maintenance stairs. She stopped for a split second, looking back at me. "Don't die, analyst."
Then she was gone.
Steve checked his shield straps. "I'm heading back down to the street. The civilians are trapped in the subway. You stay here. It's safer."
"Safer?" I gestured to the portal directly above our heads. "This is ground zero, Cap!"
"Exactly. Most of the fighting is down there. Just... hide. Wait for the signal."
Steve ran to the edge of the platform and jumped. Just straight up jumped off a skyscraper. I watched him plummet, knowing he'd land safely on a bank truck or something because he was Captain America.
I was left alone on the balcony of Stark Tower.
Well, not alone.
[WARNING: BOSS PRESENCE DETECTED] [Proximity: 20 meters] [Entity: Loki Odinson]
I froze.
The glass doors to the penthouse slid open.
Loki walked out. He wasn't looking at me; he was looking at the burning chariot wreckage with mild distaste. He looked exactly like Tom Hiddleston, which was disorienting, but the aura of menace radiating off him was very real. He held the Scepter—the Mind Stone—in his hand.
He turned his head. Green eyes locked onto mine.
He didn't attack. He didn't summon an illusion. He just tilted his head, looking at me like I was a cockroach that had somehow climbed onto the dinner table.
"You," Loki said, his voice smooth and dripping with disdain. "You are not an Avenger. You reek of... mediocrity."
My throat went dry. The System interface was screaming in red.
[CRITICAL DANGER] [Opponent Level: GOD] [Survival Chance: 0.04%] [Option: RUN.]
I took a step back. But then I looked at the Scepter. The key to closing the portal. Natasha was still climbing the stairs. If Loki saw her, he'd kill her.
I needed to buy time. I needed to distract the God of Mischief.
I straightened my back, gripping my stolen alien spear.
"Mediocrity?" I scoffed, channeling every ounce of bravado I didn't feel. "Buddy, I'm the only one here who knows that you're just stalling because you're terrified your dad is watching."
Loki's smile vanished. The temperature on the balcony seemed to drop ten degrees.
"Excuse me?"
[AGGRESSION DRAWN] [You have successfully taunted a God.] [Good luck.]
Oh, I thought. I shouldn't have said that.