Stark Industries' sleek private jet touched down with a gentle thud on the sprawling deck of a massive ship, its hull cutting through the ocean waves under a vast, open sky.
Alex, well-versed in the tales of the Marvel universe, knew this was no ordinary vessel but SHIELD's helicarrier, a colossal air fortress capable of soaring above the clouds, its deceptive maritime guise hiding a marvel of engineering. As the plane steadied, Alex and Tony disembarked, their footsteps ringing against the metal deck.
"Welcome aboard—I half-expected you to roll in late," Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, greeted them, her lips curling into a faint, teasing smile directed at Tony, her tone laced with playful skepticism.
Natasha's jab was aimed squarely at Tony, whose punctuality was as rare as a sunrise in the west, a fact well-known among SHIELD's ranks and a source of mild amusement for those who dealt with him.
Tony offered no reply, his silence deliberate as he kept his distance from Natasha, his playboy charm tempered by wariness—her beauty, like a venomous serpent's, had nearly ensnared him once, leaving him cautious of her allure.
Rumble… The roar of approaching engines interrupted the moment, drawing Alex's gaze skyward as two more planes descended, their sleek forms slicing through the air in near-perfect unison.
The aircraft landed smoothly, and their passengers stepped onto the deck, each carrying an air of distinct presence that marked them as extraordinary even before their identities were confirmed.
A man in a slightly rumpled suit emerged first, his nervous glances darting across the deck, his unease palpable as he scanned his surroundings with the caution of someone accustomed to hiding—Dr. Bruce Banner, the untransformed Hulk.
Beside him strode a young man, his physique robust and his demeanor radiating a warm, sunny confidence, like a beacon of hope in human form—Captain America, Steve Rogers, the hero thawed from seventy years of ice.
Alex's eyes narrowed as he subtly activated his crystal measuring device, to gauge the power levels of the two newcomers, his curiosity piqued by their legendary reputations.
The readings for Captain America flashed at a mere 200 crystal points, slightly below Alex's own, a surprising result that creased his brow—how could a cornerstone of the Avengers, enhanced by genetic engineering, register so low? Perhaps his strength lay in physical prowess rather than raw energy like magic or superpowers.
But Dr. Bruce Banner's reading stunned Alex even more—a flat zero, a number that defied expectation for the man who harbored the Hulk, leaving Alex to wonder if the device failed to detect the dormant beast or if the Hulk's power was purely physical, devoid of the mystical or energetic signatures the device was calibrated for.
"Hey, Mr. Stark, good to see you," Dr. Bruce Banner said, stepping forward with a tentative smile, extending his hand to Tony, his demeanor warm despite the nervous edge in his eyes.
Their paths had crossed before, as fellow scientists, they shared a natural rapport, their minds attuned to the language of innovation and discovery.
"Hello, Dr. Banner," Tony replied, grasping Bruce's hand without hesitation, his scientist's camaraderie overriding his typical guardedness.
"Greetings, everyone," Captain America, Steve Rogers, called out, his voice carrying a friendly, almost familiar warmth as he approached, his sunny disposition radiating like a beacon across the helicarrier's deck.
Tony offered no response to Steve's greeting, his silence pointed, a subtle reminder of his nature—warm and loyal to those he counted as friends, but cool and distant to strangers, a trait that sparked a quiet smirk from Alex, who recognized the billionaire's selective charm.
"He's the type to treat you like family once you're in his circle, but cross him as a stranger, and you'll feel the sting," Alex mused.
"Alright, everyone, let's move inside—nobody's staying on the deck for what's coming next," Natasha announced, clapping her hands sharply, her voice cutting through the greetings with the authority of someone used to wrangling chaos.
Her words, identical to the tales Alex knew, stirred unease in Bruce, whose distrust of official forces flared, his mind leaping to the grim possibility that SHIELD might submerge the helicarrier to neutralize his inner beast, a paranoia rooted in years of pursuit.
As the group filed into the helicarrier's sleek, high-tech interior, Alex hung back, his presence quiet but observant, his mind churning with plans as the Avengers began strategizing against Loki.
The discussion was dominated by Bruce and Tony, their scientific minds diving into technicalities—leveraging gamma ray signatures and Jarvis's AI to track the Cosmic Cube's energy across global networks, their voices a rapid-fire exchange of brilliance.
Alex remained silent, his thoughts drifting to the treasures of the Marvel plane, his predicament in the zombie-infested Silverlight Tower looming large, demanding he secure powerful artifacts before his return to ensure his survival.
The Cosmic Cube's Space Stone, the Time Stone within the Eye of Agamotto, and the Mind Stone embedded in Loki's scepter glittered in his mind's eye, each a potential key to overcoming the dangers awaiting him and shaping his future across dimensions.
"Hey, Alex, Tony's not the easiest guy to deal with—don't take his jabs too seriously," Phil whispered, sidling up to Alex with a concerned look, his voice low as he assumed Alex had endured Tony's sharp tongue during their time at Stark Tower.
Phil's words caught Alex off guard, his mind flashing to the raucous party at Stark Tower, a night of revelry that painted Tony in a far different light, prompting an awkward chuckle. "Uh, it's not so bad, really…"
His hesitant response and sheepish expression led Phil to misread the situation, interpreting Alex's discomfort as a forced smile masking frustration, a misunderstanding that deepened Phil's sympathy.
Without another word, Phil gave Alex's shoulder a reassuring pat, his serious gaze conveying unspoken support before he turned and walked away, leaving Alex to shake his head at the unintended mix-up.
Meanwhile, in a shadowy basement somewhere on Earth, Loki clutched his Mind Scepter, his eyes glinting with malevolent intent as he wove his plans, fully aware that Earth's defenders would rally to thwart him.
To clear his path, Loki knew he needed to neutralize these obstacles first, his mind sharpening on one figure above all—Alex, the mortal who had dared to kick him, a god, with humiliating force.
As the prince of Asgard and heir to Jotunheim, Loki's pride still burned from that encounter, his hand instinctively brushing his chest where Alex's blow had landed, fueling his resolve to make the earthling his primary target in the coming conflict.