Project Pegasus – Midnight
The Tesseract pulsed like a heart under glass.
Deep within the SHIELD facility codenamed Project Pegasus, tension thrummed beneath the sterile hum of fluorescent lights. Scientists whispered behind terminals, sensors screamed data in erratic bursts, and the reinforced containment field buzzed louder with every passing minute.
Dr. Erik Selvig frowned at his monitor, sweat dotting his brow. "It's not just active anymore," he muttered. "It's awake."
Agent Maria Hill stood behind him, arms crossed. Her gaze flicked between the cube and the escalating readouts. "Define 'awake.'"
Selvig didn't look away from the display. "It's creating gravitational echoes. Quantum flux. This kind of behavior shouldn't even be possible in isolation—it's like it's calling something."
She stepped forward. "Calling what?"
"That's the part I'm worried about."
Up on the catwalk above the containment chamber, Agent Clint Barton crouched with a sniper's ease, one hand resting on the rail, the other near his bow. His vantage point gave him a full view of the glowing cube below—and every possible entry point in the room.
"Picking up movement in the reflections," he said through comms. "Same distortion pattern we saw during the Bellwood incident."
Maria's head snapped toward the catwalk. "So cosmic, not terrestrial?"
"Doesn't feel cosmic," Clint said. "Feels... watched."
The lights flickered.
Then, without warning, every system shut off. A heartbeat of total darkness followed—silent, suffocating—before red emergency lighting kicked in with a mechanical groan.
In that moment, the Tesseract flared like a dying star.
A beam of brilliant blue light erupted upward, tearing the air open. Reality twisted in a cyclone of warping energy, and a figure stepped through—calm, deliberate, terrifying.
He was tall and slim, dressed in black and green leather that shimmered like oil under the emergency lights. Horned headgear curled wickedly from his brow, and in his hand, he held a long scepter with a pulsing blue gem at the tip.
"Who the hell is that?" Maria whispered, drawing her pistol.
The figure smiled.
Then the first blast hit.
The scepter discharged a bolt of energy, sending one of the guards flying across the room into a control panel. Sparks rained from the ceiling as alarms finally blared to life.
"Containment breach!" the intercom shrieked. "Evacuate immediately!"
Selvig ducked behind his console. "That portal wasn't ours! We didn't open that!"
Barton loosed an arrow. The figure raised his scepter mid-turn—snatched one from the air and deflected the second. The third missed by inches.
He turned the scepter toward Clint.
A burst of light engulfed the archer.
Clint's hands lowered. His bow clattered to the metal floor. His face went blank.
Maria fired twice. One shot sparked off the figure's shoulder armor. The second he batted away with a flick of his scepter. He moved with impossible grace, as if he already knew where the bullets would land.
Then he strode toward Selvig.
The scientist froze. The scepter's blue tip hovered over his chest.
"You want to understand," the intruder said softly. His voice wasn't threatening—just calm. Cold. "Let me help you."
Selvig's eyes widened—then clouded. The tension in his shoulders vanished.
The Tesseract floated from its mount, obediently hovering into the stranger's free hand like a dog returning to its master.
Maria raised her comm. "Director Fury, we've got a situation. Unknown hostile with advanced tech just walked out of a goddamn portal—took the Tesseract. Barton and Selvig are... compromised."
Fury's voice snapped back. "Do whatever you have to. Take him down if you get the shot."
"I already took the shot," she said grimly, watching the stranger turn toward the exit. "Didn't matter."
The intruder gestured to Clint and Selvig. They fell in line behind him without a word, eyes glassy, faces devoid of thought.
As they disappeared into the smoke and chaos, Maria sprinted after them, ducking falling debris as the facility's core began to collapse.
"Facility-wide implosion imminent," blared the system overhead. "Evacuate immediately."
Outside, the night sky flickered with distant stars—and fire.
A black SUV tore through the desert beyond the facility. Maria jumped into the nearest vehicle and gave chase. Her tires kicked up a storm of dust and gravel as she leaned out the window, gun drawn.
The fleeing vehicle swerved.
She fired twice.
Clint leaned out the back window, fired once in return—and hit her engine block.
Smoke erupted from the hood as Maria lost control and skidded sideways.
Behind her, the Project Pegasus site exploded inward, the ground collapsing like a sinkhole. Fire bloomed upward as fuel tanks detonated and energy from the Tesseract's portal discharge rippled through the sand.
"Agent Hill," came Fury's voice again, urgent. "Status?"
She gritted her teeth. "They're gone. Tesseract's gone. Barton too."
A long silence.
Then: "Regroup at Site B."
---
Brooklyn – Morning
The bag hit the floor with a heavy thud, torn from its chain.
Steve Rogers let his fists fall to his sides, chest rising and falling steadily. He hadn't even broken a sweat. A second bag lay crumpled in the corner. The first one from earlier.
Nick Fury stood in the doorway, arms folded.
"You break all your punching bags or just the ones that look at you funny?"
Steve glanced over. "Trying to catch up."
Fury stepped inside and handed him a folder. PROJECT PEGASUS: INCIDENT REPORT.
Steve opened it. Images of fire, shattered metal, and strange blue energy flickered past. And then—one blurry shot of the attacker stepping through the air.
"Is this another HYDRA leftover?" Steve asked.
"No. Worse. Someone—or something—stepped out of a portal, took our most dangerous object, and mind-jacked two of our people."
Steve stared at the page. "Do we know who he is?"
"Not yet," Fury said. "But he wasn't guessing. He knew what the Tesseract was. Knew how to use it."
Steve closed the folder.
"You need me to stop him."
"I need a soldier who doesn't spook when gods and aliens start rewriting the playbook," Fury said. "There's chaos coming, Rogers. I need someone ready to meet it head-on."
Steve didn't respond right away.
Then he nodded.
"Tell me where I'm going."
Stark Tower – Evening
Tony Stark's penthouse glowed with the soft hum of holograms. Transparent schematics floated like jellyfish around him—reactor blueprints, arc node upgrades, and a blinking to-do list that scrolled faster than he could ignore it.
The elevator dinged.
"I thought I rerouted that," Tony muttered, not turning around.
"Good evening, Mr. Stark," JARVIS said dryly. "Agent Phil Coulson from S.H.I.E.L.D. is in the elevator. He overrode security with a Level Seven clearance code. Should I notify the authorities?"
"I am the authorities," Tony said, finally glancing over. "Let him in. But start playing AC/DC, just for the petty dominance display."
Coulson stepped out of the lift as "Back in Black" started thumping gently in the background.
"Nice to see you too, sir," he said without missing a beat.
Tony didn't stand. "Let me guess. It's time to reassemble the boy band. "
"We're not assembling anything," Coulson replied smoothly. "Not yet."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "So this is a social call?"
"A theft. One of our secured facilities was hit. He took something powerful—and two of our people with him."
Tony blinked, attention shifting. "Well, you should start providing them with good insurance benefits."
"We believe it's mind control. And we believe the object stolen is not just powerful—it's unstable."
Coulson tapped his tablet, projecting a flickering image: Loki stepping out of the portal, wielding the glowing scepter.
"This is the man responsible. We don't know much yet. But he's not from Earth."
"And you want me to... what? Track him down? Build a cosmic taser?"
"We want you to help figure out what he took. Selvig was working with you on arc stabilization before we brought him in. You know his methods. And the object in question—let's just say it hums like your chestpiece on a bad day."
Tony stood now, curiosity overriding sarcasm. "Okay. You had me at 'dangerous space tech.'"
Coulson handed him a hard drive. "Start with this. And for the record... this isn't about the Avengers Initiative."
Tony smirked. "No? Funny. It's starting to feel a lot like one of those 'some assembly required' moments."
---
Nathan's Apartment – Night
Jessica Drew opened the door in joggers and a simple long-sleeve tee, damp hair tied up in a loose knot. She hadn't expected visitors. Certainly not S.H.I.E.L.D. ones.
"Agent Maria Hill," said the woman at the door, holding up her ID.
Jessica folded her arms, posture shifting into something more guarded. "This about the Avengers Initiative?"
"In part." Hill met her gaze. "A powerful artifact was stolen from one of our secure facilities. The thief... wasn't human. He used a weapon capable of overriding minds. One of our best agent is among those compromised."
Jessica's demeanor changed at that. "He's mind controlled?"
"Yes. And he wasn't alone. Dr. Erik Selvig—one of few great scientists of our age, as well. Both are gone. So is the object. We have reason to believe this threat is of cosmic origin."
Jessica's jaw clenched. "You think they're planning something bigger."
"We do. Fury wants you read in. You've had field training, off-book experience, been doing Hero stuff."
"Sure, I'm in," she said.
Hill nodded in approval, but her thoughts wandered as Jessica grabbed her jacket.
She hadn't expected Nathan to be absent. Not really. Officially, she wasn't allowed to contact him—not since he'd been linked to the Plumbers. Technically, he operated under an alien-friendly defense charter, outside SHIELD's jurisdiction. But still... if he'd just happened to be around, heard their conversation...
He might have helped. Especially if his girlfriend's gonna be on the mission.
Instead, the apartment felt colder. Quieter. She hid the disappointment well. No time for sentiment. Not now.
"Let's go," Jessica said, locking the door behind her.
---
Plumber Outpost, Arizona – Early Morning
Daisy Johnson parked her SHIELD SUV outside a rusted metal shack that shimmered faintly with Plumber tech cloaking. One biometric scan later, the wall phased open to reveal a cavernous interior filled with alien devices, humming monitors, and the unmistakable scent of burned circuits and strong coffee.
Max Tennyson sat hunched over a console, wearing a tool belt over a grease-stained shirt. His grey hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. A rust-colored Galvanic hand-drill sat beside a pile of glowing scrap.
"You're late," he said without turning.
"You're early," Daisy shot back, stepping inside. "Or maybe you just don't sleep."
"Sleep's a privilege I gave up when the Vreedle Brothers started learning to teleport."
She handed him a tablet. "We had a break-in. SHIELD site. We're calling it cosmic until proven otherwise. I need your eyes on this."
Max scrolled through the footage—portal energy flaring, Loki's emergence, the blue glow of the scepter, agents falling under his control.
He froze the frame. Zoomed in.
"Recognize him?" Daisy asked.
"Prince Loki," Max said, voice low. "Asgardian royal. Last I heard, he was Thor's younger brother. Not flagged as a criminal. But that doesn't mean much."
Daisy crossed her arms. "So he's royalty, not a wanted galactic warlord?"
"Correct. But if this footage is legit, and he's stealing tech while mind-controlling humans, Earth's got grounds for action."
He paused, then looked at her seriously. "The Plumbers have a file on Asgard. Not much. Magic-heavy, high-order dimensional travelers. Dangerous when provoked."
"And this guy just provoked us?"
Max stood up, the weight of history in his bones. "Then Earth has a right to defend itself. But be careful. They weren't believed to be gods for nothing. You better be ready for the fallout."
Daisy exhaled slowly. "We've got a team forming. Or at least, we're trying to. You in if it escalates?"
Max gave her a tired smile. "If it escalates, I won't need to be invited. I'll already be there."
Remote Outpost – Underground Chamber
The glow of the Tesseract bathed the chamber in a flickering blue light. It pulsed like a heartbeat—alive, waiting. Loki stood before it, fingers laced behind his back, his silhouette long and sharp against the cold concrete walls.
Behind him, Agent Barton waited silently, unnervingly still.
Loki's eyes didn't leave the cube. "Beautiful, isn't it?" he murmured. "Such raw promise... bound in this mortal vault."
Selvig adjusted a dial on the makeshift rig, eyes glassy under control. "It responds. Not fully. But it listens."
Loki smiled faintly, eyes distant now, mind elsewhere.
Beyond Earth.
Beyond this plane.
The Chitauri were restless. Thanos less so. But the army was promised—once the gateway opened. Once the world bent.
Still, Earth had its secrets. This world, so messy, so stubbornly alive.
And protected.
"Plumbers," he said aloud, savoring the word like a foreign spice. "Curious little faction. Not magic, not quite science. But old. Deep. Dangerous."
He walked in a slow arc, trailing fingers across the table edge. "If I were them... I'd have fallback bunkers. Failsafes. Detectors spread across continents."
He stopped at the hologram hovering nearby—Earth, mapped in layers: SHIELD installations, nuclear silos, and now, faint Plumber energy signatures blinking across the globe.
Loki tilted his head. "Perhaps... an opening salvo. A shadow of invasion before the true gate is opened."
A tap to the Chitauri beacon he held, and a signal flickered to life—testing frequencies, probing barriers.
"If their outposts fall first," Loki whispered, eyes gleaming, "the world will crumble faster. And the gods will descend before they're even seen."
He smiled then. Not wide.
But sharp.