Within the observable universe, humanity had yet to discover any definitive proof of extraterrestrial civilizations. From a purely scientific standpoint, Earth currently had no active competitors for galactic resources.
Therefore, any invading alien armada had to originate from far beyond the observable universe.
Would an unfathomably advanced interstellar civilization, separated from Earth by millions of lightyears, really cross the galactic void just to steal their oil or harvest their gold, like the aliens in those cheap paperback sci-fi novels?
Objectively speaking, Earth possessed absolutely zero resources that were considered rare on a cosmic scale.
It made absolutely no sense!
"The whole premise reeks of logical inconsistencies," Agent Hill complained, crossing her arms. "We are just an incredibly ordinary, insignificant little planet. Yes, the Writers outside the Fourth Wall are human, so they naturally force all the major cosmic events to happen on Earth because of homeworld bias. But they still need to write a passable in-universe justification for it, right? They can't just slap an alien invasion into the script without a motive."
"Exactly," Hill continued. "From a screenwriter's perspective, there must be a compelling plot device driving the conflict. Standard natural resources aren't a strong enough motive to launch an interstellar war. The true reason has to be far more complex."
"We need to break this down into two separate problems," Coulson interjected, returning to his analytical baseline. "First, Loki. While he holds the prestigious title of Second Prince of Asgard, he doesn't actually possess any real military or political power. Thor is the Crown Prince. Loki has no standing among the Frost Giants either."
Coulson tapped the table. "If Loki is going to take a leading role in an alien armada, it won't be as simple as him just giving orders. Even if this unknown alien civilization isn't as powerful as Asgard, and even if they lack a Skyfather-level entity like Odin, they wouldn't just blindly follow Loki on a whim. And I highly doubt Loki's illusion magic is powerful enough to mind-control an entire planetary civilization into launching a war."
It would be like someone using magic to mind-control the President of the United States into launching a nuclear first-strike on Russia completely unprovoked. The military chain of command would instantly recognize the insanity of the order and refuse to comply. The system would reject it.
"So, we have two core questions that need answering," Coulson summarized. "First, why is Loki so obsessed with conquering Earth? What is his specific motive? Second, why is this advanced alien civilization listening to Loki in the first place? They must have their own reason for coming here."
Coulson looked at Fury. "What role is Loki actually playing in this invasion? Is he the supreme mastermind, a hired mercenary, or just a pawn?"
Nick Fury rubbed his bald head, feeling the familiar sting of a migraine returning. The deeper they analyzed the problem, the more convoluted it became.
Initially, they hadn't bothered questioning why the aliens were invading. They had just treated it like the European conquest of the New World. Why did the colonizers invade? For gold and land.
But when applied to a cosmic scale, that logic completely fell apart.
Did a civilization capable of traversing the universe truly care about Earth's paltry mineral deposits?
Were they starved for energy? A civilization capable of interstellar armadas could casually crack open uninhabited planets and siphon entire stars.
Were they desperate for a habitable, Earth-like environment? An empire of that magnitude undoubtedly possessed terraforming technology. They wouldn't need to hunt for a perfect biological match like desperate refugees; they could just artificially engineer a dead planet to suit their needs.
So, what incredible, irresistible charm did this utterly unremarkable little mudball possess to draw the attention of cosmic empires and god-tier civilizations?
Even if Loki was the one stirring the pot, he still needed a massive piece of bait to convince an alien empire to deploy their fleet.
"I think Loki's motive is the easiest part to deduce," Natasha offered. "He's fiercely ambitious. He might harbor a shred of genuine affection for Asgard, having grown up there, but toward other races? He feels nothing. Remember his titles? The God of Mischief. The God of Evil. The God of Lies."
"When confronted with the millions of humans he will inevitably kill, did he show even a sliver of remorse?" Natasha pointed out. "No. He casually brushed it off, claiming his death toll was nothing compared to the slaughter his father caused while conquering the Nine Realms. He views humans as insects."
"Since he is wildly ambitious, and the throne of Asgard is permanently out of his reach, it makes perfect sense that he would choose Earth as his consolation prize. He wants to conquer us to satiate his ego and prove he can be a king," Natasha concluded. "But the real mystery is the alien civilization. What could possibly convince an empire stationed hundreds or thousands of lightyears away to mobilize their military for Loki? It has to be something infinitely more valuable than resources or real estate."
"If we lived in a normal, scientifically grounded universe, Earth genuinely wouldn't have anything worth stealing," Hawkeye muttered softly, looking down at his hands. "But we aren't in a normal universe. We are in a Series of Stories."
Hawkeye looked up, his eyes suddenly sharp. "So, instead of trying to figure this out from the perspective of real-world geopolitics, economics, and resource scarcity... why don't we look at it from the perspective of a fictional narrative? What does a legendary story demand?"
"Yes! Barton, that is brilliant!" Natasha's eyes widened, clapping her hands together. "I literally just spent half an hour talking about how I interviewed Hollywood screenwriters to understand their creative logic, and I completely forgot to apply that exact logic to this problem!"
Natasha felt a surge of adrenaline. If logical, realistic motives failed to explain the alien invasion, then they had to embrace the absurd, narrative motives.
They had to think like Writers.
"Exactly," Agent Hill nodded, catching on immediately. "If we throw out all the realistic factors—if we ignore the fact that Earth is located in a desolate, backwater sector of the galaxy, and that our resources are worthless—what 'unrealistic' treasures do we actually possess?"
Hill smirked. "When you look at it that way, Earth isn't quite as worthless as we thought, is it? For such a tiny, insignificant planet, we certainly have an absurd concentration of superheroes. And let's not forget, we have the Ancient One, a genuine Skyfather-level entity, secretly living among us."