"Reed, Susan, the World Security Council just passed a resolution to strip me of command over S.H.I.E.L.D.," Nick Fury's voice echoed with grim urgency across the Fantastic Four's comms. "They've decided to launch nuclear strikes against the Tesseract's space channel!"
His voice paused, the weight of his next words crashing through the silence.
"There are five nuclear warheads en route to five major cities. Detonation in two minutes and thirty seconds!"
"What the hell?!"
"Holy—!"
"They've gone completely insane!"
"Are those corrupt bastards out of their minds?!"
Four voices overlapped in outrage. Reed Richards, Susan Storm, Johnny Storm, and Ben Grimm—better known as the Fantastic Four—erupted in unison. Their reactions were instant, and the chaos in their voices didn't go unnoticed. The urgent report shot straight through to Tony Stark, Thor, and Joseph as well.
Loki, watching from the side, twitched.
And at that exact moment, he saw something—a glimmer in Joseph's eyes.
His heart sank.
"Wait—this bastard... he's been waiting for this?!"
A chill ran down Loki's spine. It all started to make sense. He opened his mouth to react, but before he could even finish a thought, Joseph calmly extended his right hand, facing the energy barrier formed by the Tesseract.
But unlike Thor or the Human Torch, he didn't attack it.
He just whispered a single name.
"Alice."
"I'm here, Master," responded a feminine, synthesized voice.
Before anyone could process what was happening, the wall in Tony Stark's lab exploded outward with a metallic crunch. A streak of purple light zipped through the air from Tony's workshop and shot toward them like a homing missile.
"Wha—WTF?!"
Tony stared in disbelief, raising his right hand instinctively.
The light enveloped his gauntlet, reshaping itself. It turned into a glove—soft as silk, yet etched with glowing, arcane inscriptions and pulsating links of violet lightning running between the seams.
Tony gave his wrist a flick.
Crack!
A whip of purple lightning snapped into the air.
At first, the air barely rippled—no tremors, no energy surges. Just the illusion of movement.
Tony's eyes narrowed.
"I've seen high-voltage whips before. Vanko's gear practically sliced tanks in half," he muttered. "But this…"
There was no destructive aura. It was silent. Almost… refined.
J.A.R.V.I.S. chimed in. "Sir, this weapon was specially crafted by Mr. Joseph to enhance your suit's magical compatibility. A backup for purely physical combat."
"A gift from Joseph, huh?" Tony smirked.
He didn't hesitate. With the Soul Whip in hand, he struck.
Crack!
"Still trying?!"
Loki scoffed—but still, he dodged.
He didn't need to. Every technological weapon Iron Man had used so far had phased through his illusion-based defenses.
But this was different.
Joseph was a magician. And this weapon had his signature.
Buzz!
Loki didn't just sidestep. He vanished, triggering his invisibility spell instinctively.
It didn't matter.
The violet whip twisted mid-air—tracking him—and lunged with a violent snap.
It struck him with surgical precision, as though guided by fate itself.
"A soul whip?!" Loki's mind reeled. "Auto-targeting?!"
Pain flared across his body. This whip didn't just sting—it struck the soul.
Tony's eyes widened as realization struck him too. "This whip isn't about destruction… It's a soul weapon!"
He grinned wildly.
"This is going to be fun."
He let loose another strike—right across Loki's smug face.
"AHHH!!"
Loki's scream echoed as a deep violet scar appeared across his once-flawless cheek.
The moment of agony turned into a whirlwind.
With a burst of power from his repulsors, Tony launched into the air, twirling the Soul Whip like a lasso. It wrapped around Loki, spinning him through the air like a ragdoll, slamming him into walls, through ceilings, and into the floor.
BOOM.
CRACK.
THUMP.
Loki was a blur of motion and bruises.
Thor—watching from outside the energy field—stood frozen. Tears welled in his eyes.
"Brother… what have you done to deserve this?" he whispered, mourning more for his dignity than his well-being.
Joseph, hovering silently nearby, blinked.
"Tony... the nukes are still coming. One minute thirty."
"I got it!"
Tony was already moving. His barrage had knocked the psychic scepter clean out of Loki's grasp.
Activating his thrusters, Tony soared toward it, caught the scepter in mid-air, and flew directly toward the Tesseract's barrier.
As he moved, the whip dissolved around his hand, retracting neatly into the gauntlet.
He knew the drill.
He'd studied it. Joseph didn't have to say a word.
He slammed the tip of the scepter into the barrier.
Buzz... BUZZ...
The air vibrated. A pulse rippled outward, then—
BOOM!
The energy field shattered like glass under pressure.
"DAMN IT!!" Loki shrieked.
His head was spinning, both literally and metaphorically. He had feared the shield might not hold forever—but he hadn't thought this would be how it broke.
Joseph didn't even lift a finger.
He came in, said a few vague, mystical things, waved once, and the whole plan collapsed.
He'd laid the groundwork inside Stark Tower itself.
Loki never even saw it.
"DAMN IT! DAMN IT! DAMN—!!"
His entire scheme now seemed like a tragic joke, crafted with care, only to be flipped over by a magician who wasn't even trying.
And worse—Joseph waited to act until after the nukes launched.
That's when it hit Loki.
"This wasn't just timing… This was the plan!"
Joseph had baited the World Security Council into a corner—made them choose nukes—and now the world would see it for what it was.
The Mutants didn't provoke humanity.
Humanity attacked themselves.
Those nukes wouldn't even kill a blade of grass—but they'd detonate enough rage and fear to level governments.
Public opinion would erupt.
Mutants hadn't needed to fight.
The politicians had delivered the blade straight to Joseph's hands.
And they'd smiled while doing it.
"Idiots. Every last one of you," Loki thought bitterly. "They handed him the world."
No one was paying attention to him anymore.
"Joseph!" Tony shouted mid-flight. "I'll take care of the nuke. You finish the job!"
He tossed the psychic scepter toward Joseph and rocketed upward, vanishing into the clouds.
Joseph caught the scepter easily and floated upward to the rooftop construction ring.
There stood Professor Eric Savage, still staring up at the sky like a religious zealot witnessing the second coming.
"One minute."
Joseph walked toward the Tesseract chamber slowly, calmly, and raised the scepter.
Then…
A voice echoed in his mind.
"Joseph…"
It was Loki.
Even battered and humiliated, his soul scarred, he still managed to whisper through the psychic link.
"If you didn't have the scepter… could you still break the seal?"
Joseph paused.
A strange question.
He wasn't asking about the invasion. Not about the nukes. He wasn't even resisting anymore.
Just… curious.
"Is that what's eating you?" Joseph murmured back telepathically. "That question?"
He smiled faintly.
"Why don't you guess?"
Loki nearly screamed in frustration—but in his gut, he knew the answer.
Yes.
Joseph could've broken the seal at any time.
A moment later…
As Tony hurled the warhead through the wormhole, Joseph touched the scepter to the Tesseract core.
CRACK.
The wormhole collapsed in on itself.
The psychic scepter hit the ground with a soft clang.
And Joseph?
Vanished.
Like a mirage.
Like a reflection.
To the average person, it was a shock.
But to Loki, a master of illusions, the truth was obvious:
"That wasn't his real body!"
A projection. A magical mirror construct.
He'd done it all—without even being there.
Loki stared in disbelief.
"Then… where is Joseph's real body?"
He swallowed.
And felt fear.
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