Loki, to put it bluntly, was far from magnanimous—his heart harbored a petty, narrow streak, a flaw that fueled his grudges with a tenacity that bordered on obsession.
Though he knew his ambition to rule Earth would provoke fierce resistance from its defenders, in Loki's mind, figures like the Hulk or Captain America were mere adversaries, obstacles to be ignored unless they directly thwarted his schemes.
But Alex was a different matter entirely—being kicked by a mortal had seared a deep humiliation into Loki's pride, an insult that no amount of reasoning could erase, even if Alex swore to stay out of his way.
As the future king of Earth, Loki could never forgive such an affront, his resolve hardening to ensure Alex's downfall, a personal vendetta that burned brighter than his broader conquest.
In his scheming, Loki divided Earth's opposition into two groups: Alex, the singular thorn in his side, and the rest of the Avengers, a collective force to be managed. Of the two, Alex seemed the easier target to isolate and eliminate.
Known in Asgard as the God of Mischief, Loki's cunning was his greatest weapon, and after a moment's reflection, he directed Hawkeye and his allies to proceed with the established plan while he slipped out of the basement, Mind Scepter in hand, his mind alight with a new strategy.
As a master of illusion and manipulation, Loki wielded his magic with eerie precision, infiltrating the highest echelons of American leadership, where he bent key officials to his will with the scepter's power, compelling them to exert pressure on SHIELD.
Back on the helicarrier, Dr. Bruce Banner and Tony Stark dove into their work, their rapid exchange of scientific jargon—gamma ray signatures, spectral analysis, AI-driven network sweeps—forming a symphony of brilliance that left others in awe.
Captain America, a relic of a simpler era, stood by, his expression one of bewildered fascination, the technical onslaught rendering him a silent observer, unable to contribute to the scientists' domain.
Alex, meanwhile, kept to the sidelines, his silence not from disinterest but from focus, his body subtly channeling the Sacred Heart Jue.
Though less intricate than its full form, the Sacred Heart Jue surged through Alex's meridians, its internal force accumulating at a pace that outstripped even the revered Yi Jin Jing, each breath deepening his strength as he prepared for the trials ahead, including his return to Silverlight Tower's zombie-infested halls.
"Alex, come with me—Director Fury needs to see you," Agent Maria Hill said, approaching with a brisk stride, her voice cutting through his meditative focus, prompting a slight raise of his brow.
"Fury's looking for me?" Alex echoed, surprised but compliant, nodding as he followed Hill through the helicarrier's sleek corridors, his mind racing with curiosity about the sudden summons.
"You're fired from SHIELD, effective immediately," Fury declared the moment Alex entered, his single eye fixed on him with unyielding intensity, the bombshell delivered without preamble.
"Fired?" Alex repeated, stunned, the abruptness of the decision catching him off guard, his gaze searching Fury's face for an explanation, a reason to justify such a drastic move.
"However, I'm inviting you to join the Avengers," Fury continued, his tone shifting to a measured calm, the offer dangling like a lifeline after the shock of dismissal.
"What's the difference?" Alex asked, his brow furrowing, his mind grappling with the distinction, assuming the Avengers and SHIELD were two sides of the same coin.
"It's significant," Fury replied, leaning forward. "SHIELD is an official U.S. agency, answerable to the Pentagon and the President, but the Avengers operate as a semi-independent group. Even as director, I can't directly command Tony or Dr. Banner."
"I get it," Alex said, nodding as the pieces fell into place, recalling the tensions in the tales of the Civil War, where the Avengers' autonomy clashed with governmental control, a divide that pitted heroes against each other.
"But why make this change now, at such a critical moment?" Alex pressed, his instincts flaring, sensing an underlying motive behind Fury's sudden decision to reassign him.
"SHIELD's rigid structure isn't ideal for those with extraordinary abilities like yours—you thrive on independence," Fury said, waving a hand dismissively. "The Avengers are a collective of like-minded individuals, free to act as needed."
"Understood," Alex replied, accepting the explanation without further comment, though his mind churned with suspicion as he exchanged a few more words and left the director's office.
"Is this really the best approach, Director? How do we justify this to Congress?" Agent Hill asked, her voice low as Alex departed, her concern for the political fallout evident.
"Congress flagged Alex's unknown background as a risk for SHIELD, so I've complied by removing him," Fury said coolly. "But the Avengers are beyond their reach. And if we're talking risks, is Dr. Banner any safer?"
Fury's tone betrayed a hint of frustration, his decision a calculated compromise to shield Alex while navigating the pressures of external forces, the best outcome he could engineer under the circumstances.
"Something's definitely up," Alex mused as he walked away, his thoughts racing, unconvinced by Fury's surface-level explanation, certain that only a significant event would prompt such a move amid SHIELD's chaos.
Fury's maneuver, Alex deduced, was protective, likely a response to official pressure targeting him specifically, a realization that pointed to interference from the U.S. government, an unexpected adversary in his plans.
If the might of American authorities was turning against him, Alex knew he couldn't remain passive—inaction would leave him defenseless, a vulnerability he couldn't afford.
Alex returned to the helicarrier's bustling command room, where the hum of high-tech consoles and the flicker of holographic displays created a symphony of urgency, his eyes scanning the scene with calculated intent.
Bruce and Tony were engrossed in their work, their rapid-fire exchange of scientific theories and technical jargon filling the air, a testament to their shared brilliance as top minds bonded over shared passions.
Captain America, Steve Rogers, stood off to the side, his broad shoulders slumped slightly, his expression one of restless boredom, clearly out of his depth amidst the scientific whirlwind that dominated the room.
Alex weighed his options and made a beeline for Steve, his mind sharpened by the recent revelation of official pressure against him, recognizing that his strongest allies in this turbulent moment were his fellow Avengers, making it crucial to forge tight bonds with them.
"Alex, is it wrong for me to just stand here? I feel useless, unable to contribute," Steve admitted, his voice tinged with frustration as he glanced at the flurry of activity, the digital world of networks and gamma rays alien to his soldier's instincts.
"Leave professional tasks to the experts—we just need to focus on our own strengths," Alex said with a reassuring smile, settling beside Steve, his tone calm but encouraging, aiming to lift the hero's spirits.
"My strengths," Steve murmured, his gaze distant for a moment before hardening with resolve, nodding at Alex. "You're right—forcing myself into something I don't understand could do more harm than good. I'm a soldier, and I'll do my part."
"No, you're not just a soldier—you're the captain," Alex corrected firmly, his voice carrying conviction, recognizing Steve's unparalleled role as the Avengers' moral compass, a leader whose heart embodied peace, justice, and faith.
Steve's eyes flickered with gratitude, but Alex shifted gears, his tone growing serious. "That said, while your strength is impressive, against gods, demons, and monsters, it's a bit lacking. I can help you boost your power."
"Boost my power?" Steve asked, his brow creasing with curiosity, clearly puzzled by Alex's offer, unsure what kind of enhancement could elevate his already superhuman abilities.
Without elaborating, Alex extended a finger and gently tapped Steve's forehead, his voice steady. "I grew up in the cosmos, mentored by a wise sage who taught me the initiation technique—a method to transfer my abilities and knowledge directly, though it drains me considerably."
As he spoke, Alex accessed Steve's internal framework, a mental interface akin to a digital drive, where he located a 5G soldier enhancement gene—the genetic modification that had transformed Steve into a super-soldier, amplifying his physical prowess.
For Alex, whose training in the One Piece plane's body techniques surpassed such genetic boosts, the gene held little appeal, its effects redundant compared to his honed skills, so he chose not to copy it.
Exploring further, Alex scanned Steve's skill and knowledge drives, finding a wealth of combat experience and leadership tactics, but nothing groundbreaking enough to warrant copying, his focus shifting to his own contribution.
With a mental command, Alex transferred knowledge of Armament Haki cultivation from the One Piece plane, along with the techniques for using Armament Haki and the high-speed movement skill shaving, pasting them into Steve's mental framework.
The idea of Captain America wielding Armament Haki—a technique to harden his body and weapons—and darting across battlefields with shaving's blinding speed sparked a thrill in Alex, who imagined the subversive spectacle of Steve's transformed combat style.
The copying process was intensive, draining Alex's energy as the knowledge settled into Steve's mind, the captain's eyes widening as new skills and techniques flooded his consciousness, a mix of awe and disbelief washing over him.
Not only was Steve stunned by the intricacies of Armament Haki, but the sheer concept of Alex's initiation technique—sharing knowledge instantaneously—left him reeling, wondering, If everyone had such abilities, would there be any need for schools to exist?.