Before Nick Fury disappeared beneath the surface, he surged up from the chemical waste one last time, his body already half-submerged in foul green sludge. He threw his head back and screamed at Locke with the last of his strength, hatred and defiance twisting together in his voice.
"We'll see each other again, Locke! We'll meet again!"
Locke let out a dismissive snort and looked down at him like he was watching a bad actor struggle through his final scene. "Maybe. But if you have a Skrull impersonate you again, then yeah, we probably will."
A second later, Fury sank for good.
The surface of the waste pool rippled, churned, and then settled into an ugly, bubbling calm. Locke stood there for a moment longer, waiting to see whether the man who'd spent his life plotting in the shadows would somehow crawl back out through sheer stubbornness. He didn't.
After a short pause, the system's prompt sounded in his mind.
Diamond-level prey progress: 2/3.
Locke clicked his tongue, mildly disappointed. So even someone as infamous as Nick Fury hadn't lucked into some miraculous waste-pool mutation. That was a shame. For a second, Locke had honestly been hoping the guy would evolve into some grotesque super-agent monster and give him another round of entertainment.
A few days after returning to the Avengers base, President Obama secretly delivered the nuclear weapons he had promised. The transfer was discreet, heavily concealed, and handled through channels that would never appear on any official record. Even so, Locke still inspected every bomb personally, because when it came to toys like these, trust was for idiots.
After a quick check, he confirmed that all four were older-model nukes, with yields ranging from relatively modest tactical levels all the way to city-ending monsters. They weren't sleek new missile systems, but that didn't matter. In fact, for his purposes, these outdated warheads were better.
The missile system he'd gotten before contained independently targetable nuclear warheads, which sounded impressive on paper, but missiles were useless in Hell. He couldn't exactly launch an ICBM across infernal terrain and expect it to function like normal. No, the only practical approach was to remove the warheads and convert them into timed explosives.
And the more he thought about it, the more excited he became.
He wanted to go to Hell immediately.
According to his own calculations, even if a nuclear blast was weakened by Hell's environment, one bomb should still wipe out tens of thousands of demons. He wasn't even being greedy about it. If he could kill seventy or eighty thousand in one shot, he'd already be thrilled.
Just the kill streak reward alone would hand him an absurd number of attribute points.
If that happened, wouldn't he basically become a god on Earth?
He could almost picture it already. One punch, one hundred tons of force. Who exactly on this planet would be able to take that head-on? The thought made him grin, but once the excitement cooled, he had to admit there were still practical problems. He had never actually been to Hell.
He had no idea where the beast horn would send him.
If it dropped him into some dead corner of the infernal wilderness, or into a place full of monsters without any city or organized settlement nearby, the whole trip could turn into a disaster. Worse, if he landed somewhere especially dangerous without preparation, he might actually get himself killed.
So after thinking it through, he came to the obvious conclusion.
He needed help.
And there was only one person he trusted to answer a question like this—The Ancient One.
Thanks to his previous investigation, he already knew where Kamar-Taj was, so this time he didn't need to waste effort searching. He could just fly there directly. And since he was making the trip anyway, he figured he might as well solve another problem while he was at it.
Thor and Loki.
After taking a prolonged beating from reality, Thor had clearly matured. Living as an ordinary man had forced him to think like one. He'd started to understand what common people actually wanted from life, and the answer was simple enough: safety, stability, and no pointless war.
If Thor had been an ordinary Asgardian citizen or soldier, he would never have wanted endless bloodshed either.
Loki was a different story.
Frank had arranged for him to spend a while doing dirty, illegal grunt work, but that experiment had been a total failure. It hadn't fixed anything. In the end, Locke had given him a new identity instead—a street-level hero working under the Avengers.
Because Loki had never truly wanted the throne.
Deep down, what he craved was recognition.
Recognition from his father. Recognition from his mother. Recognition from his people. Recognition from everyone. For a man who'd grown up in the shadow of a golden prince, what he had always lacked wasn't status, but identity.
At his core, Loki wanted to be seen as a hero.
He'd just warped himself trying to fill that hole.
Of course, when Locke first forced the issue, Loki had despised it. As Asgard's pampered third princess in all but name, he had looked down on the idea of patrolling New York streets and helping random civilians. His own abilities were also limited under the circumstances, which made him even more resistant.
Locke's solution had been brutally simple.
Lock the man inside a metal suit, let someone else handle the operation, and force him to play superhero. While he was at it, set up a few staged crises for Thor too, so the idiot thunder god could play rescue hero for his brother once in a while. Then send both of them out into the city, let them hear the cheers, let them see the gratitude, and let ordinary people look at them with admiration instead of fear.
At first, both brothers hated it.
They were disgusted, cursed, resented, and constantly irritated.
But after enough time, reality had done what force couldn't. Resistance slowly faded, and acceptance took its place. The applause from the crowds hadn't completely transformed Loki into a better person, but it had definitely changed something. And once Thor found out his younger brother had become a street hero, he'd gone a step further and actually organized a support group for him like some overenthusiastic idiot.
So when Locke finally found the brothers again and told them he was taking them home, both of them were stunned.
At some point, Asgard had become something distant.
…
Nepal. Kamar-Taj.
Because he'd helped the Ancient One before, getting past the mountain gate was easy. No one stopped him, and no one questioned why he'd come. As he passed through the courtyard, he watched the apprentice sorcerers practicing in the square with a look of genuine interest.
Then he turned to the Ancient One and asked, "Master, be honest. Do I have talent for magic?"
She didn't even blink. "No."
Locke smacked his lips. "That was ruthless."
Behind him, Loki immediately brightened and jumped in with a smug smile. "Then release me, and I'll teach you myself. I'm the greatest sorcerer in the Nine Realms."
Locke glanced at him. "Tell you what. Beat the Ancient One in a fight, and I'll become your disciple."
Loki instantly looked up at the sky with fake detachment. "I don't hit women."
Locke laughed. "You're a melee cripple pretending to be the best sorcerer in the Nine Realms. Where exactly do you get that confidence?"
Loki's face darkened. "I only lost because I fell into your trap. Fight me properly head-on if you dare."
Locke lifted Mjolnir in one hand and gave it a little shake. "Head-on? I'm worried I'd cave your skull in with one swing."
Loki immediately turned to Thor and changed targets. "Brother, you're not seriously going to let him keep the hammer, are you?"
Thor's face filled with gloom. "I… I don't know. Maybe Father's spirit has been cursing me from heaven this whole time."
Loki froze.
Oh no.
In all the chaos, he'd forgotten to explain that part. Once they got back, wouldn't Thor beat him half to death after learning the truth? Then again, Thor had lost his power before. Things were different now. Maybe this time Loki could be the one doing the beating.
The thought made him itch with anticipation.
Once they entered the hall, the Ancient One sat calmly and asked Locke the question directly. "You're here to exchange them back this time?"
"Yes," Locke said with a nod. "The All-Father must miss his sons."
The Ancient One took a sip of tea and replied in the driest tone imaginable. "He woke up recently. He's eating well, sleeping well, and enjoying himself in Asgard. He doesn't seem very desperate."
Thor's eyes widened so fast they looked ready to pop out. "What? What did you just say? My father isn't dead?"
Locke glanced toward Loki, who was already trying to quietly slide himself toward an exit. "Loki lied to you because he wanted the throne."
Thor's whole face flushed red. Veins stood out on his neck as disbelief and fury hit him at the same time.
"You—!"
Seeing there was no escape left, Loki made the first move and tackled Thor to the ground. "Calm down! I didn't mean it like that! I was confused for a while, that's all!"
Locke ignored the wrestling brothers and turned back to the Ancient One. "There's something else too. I want to help you get revenge on Mephisto for invading Earth last time."
That got her attention.
She looked at him and said, "You want to help me get revenge?"
"Of course." Locke spread his hands with perfect sincerity that fooled absolutely no one. "Everyone knows Earth is under your protection. Those extra-dimensional demons barged in like they owned the place. That's obvious disrespect. I heroically stopped Mephisto for you, but now the feud exists. I know you're busy and burdened with countless responsibilities, so I'm willing to help shoulder a tiny little part of your revenge against Hell."
The Ancient One didn't even bother lifting her head. "What do you want to do?"
"Nuke them."
That made her expression twitch for the first time.
"If you want to bomb them, go do it," she said. "Why come to me?"
Locke smiled brightly. "Because getting to Hell is a hassle, and I don't know where their cities are. I want you to send me straight near Mephisto's territory. Then I'll light him up with a nuclear bomb so hard he won't even have tears left to cry. Every demon in Hell will learn what happens when they disrespect the Ancient One."
She looked at him for a very long moment.
Locke actually started to feel awkward under that stare. Was she impressed by his heroism? Was she silently acknowledging that he, too, carried the burden of protecting Earth? Then the Ancient One finally shook her head.
"Hell has its own defenses. I can't send you directly into Mephisto's city. At best, I can teleport you to the wasteland outside it."
Locke thought it over and decided that was still workable. As long as his Absolute Zero Zone functioned normally in Hell, he should be fine. The only remaining issue was infiltration.
"Master," he asked, "is there any way to disguise myself as a demon?"
She gave him a bland look. "You already can."
He blinked. "What?"
"Hellfire."
Then she added, "Be careful, and you won't be exposed immediately."
That settled it. Everything was ready except timing.
Suddenly, the Ancient One stood up. "First, we're going to Asgard. When we return, I'll send you to Hell."
Locke frowned. "Shouldn't Hell come first? If Odin takes Mjolnir back, I won't even have this to protect me."
But by then, she had already opened a portal. "Odin wants to see you. After meeting him, you may decide Hell can wait."
Locke's eyes lit up. "Did he say anything else? Has my identity as the chosen one finally been exposed? Is Odin planning to invest in me early? I knew he had vision."
"Go in."
On the other side of the portal, Locke saw a vast and magnificent palace.
Before stepping through, he asked one final question. "You're protecting me, right? Ancient One, whom I've helped twice and am about to help a third time?"
She waved her hand impatiently. "So much nonsense."
The portal surged forward and swallowed him whole. Then she strolled through after him. On the floor behind them, Thor and Loki were still wrestling when they suddenly stopped and stared.
Wait.
Weren't they supposed to be taken back too?
A burst of fire flashed beneath them, and a flat portal opened under their bodies. The two brothers yelped and dropped straight through it.
The moment Locke found his footing in Asgard, he was nearly blinded by the sheer extravagance of the hall. Everything was grand, gleaming, and aggressively golden.
Damn, he thought. This is what real royal taste looks like.
Before he could even fully see the throne ahead, something heavy hit the floor beside him. Then Thor's voice exploded with joy.
"Father! You're alive! This is amazing!"
The expressionless All-Father Odin actually rolled his eye at that.
Loki, meanwhile, scrambled to his feet and immediately started shouting, "Guards! Where are the guards? Arrest these two Earth invaders at once!"
Clang.
Odin tapped Gungnir once against the floor, and the entire hall seemed to go still. "You two, be quiet," he said coldly. "Have you not learned enough yet? Get out."
Under their father's gaze, Thor and Loki both retreated unwillingly. As they left, Locke could still hear Loki whispering, "Thor, where's your courage now? Used it all up already? Why don't you dare talk back?"
Thor snorted. "I just finally realized I was the fool first, you rotten little snake."
Then Odin's gaze settled fully on Locke.
"It was you," the old god said, "who took my Mjolnir, imprisoned Thor and Loki, and planned to use them to threaten me?"
Locke immediately raised both hands in protest. "No, no, don't frame me like that. You said whoever could lift Mjolnir had the right to wield it, so how can you call that stealing? And as for Thor and Loki, I was helping you, All-Father!"
....
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