The Party Ends Here
After Nicholas's fiasco, everyone was chatting casually, still amused by the great night. Pietro was teasing his sister, who, annoyed, tried to grab him with a quick wave of her hand. But he slipped away with his usual speed, leaving only a silver blur in the air.
Rhodey, meanwhile, was talking animatedly with Sam, telling him—for probably the fifth time—the story of the general, the tank, and how he had "brought it to the enemy's feet." He narrated it with such drama it sounded like an epic tale. Sam just nodded with a resigned look, already knowing how it ended.
Near them, Barton was chatting with Thor and a few others when, suddenly, he said in a serious tone,
"Obviously, it's a trick."
Thor looked at him with pride and shook his head slowly.
"No, no; it's more than that."
"'Only he who proves himself worthy shall possess the power'… Sounds very mystical, my friend, but it feels more like an excuse so no one touches your hammer," Barton joked with a mocking tone.
"If that's what you believe," said Thor, pointing toward the table where Mjolnir rested, "then try it."
The murmur in the room instantly died down. Everyone's eyes turned to the same spot, then to Barton, waiting expectantly.
"Seriously?" the archer asked, raising an eyebrow.
Thor nodded confidently.
"Okay," Barton said, standing up and walking toward the hammer. All eyes followed him.
"If you can lift it, maybe you'll finally upgrade your medieval bow, huh?" Nicholas teased.
Both were marksmen—one with a classic bow, the other with a high-tech rifle—and they had an ongoing rivalry about who was the better shot. Even though they usually tied, Nicholas always bragged that his weapon could erase a building with a well-placed shot.
"Yeah, sure… with a hammer that shoots lightning, of course," Barton replied with a grin as he grabbed Mjolnir's handle and pulled with all his strength. The hammer didn't move an inch.
Laughter erupted around the room.
"Do you feel the silent judgment?" Tony asked sarcastically.
"Please, be my guest, Mr. Stark," Barton said, raising an eyebrow.
Tony stood up, unbuttoning the first button of his shirt as if preparing for a heroic feat. Everyone watched him, amused.
"I don't back down from any challenge," he said proudly.
He looped the strap of the hammer around his wrist.
"So, if I lift it, I rule Asgard?" he asked, glancing at Thor.
"Of course," replied the god of thunder casually.
"Perfect. Then my first decree will be to reinstate prima nocta," Tony quipped before pulling with all his might. The hammer didn't even budge.
Silence followed for a brief moment before everyone stared at him with barely contained smiles. Tony sighed, stepping back with fake dignity.
"I'll be right back," he said, walking away for a moment.
He returned shortly after with one of his Iron Man gauntlets—the model with power thrusters. It hummed metallically as he powered it up.
"Rhodey, give me a hand," he said.
Rhodey chuckled and slipped on one of his War Machine gauntlets. The two stood on either side of the hammer and pulled together, thrusters blazing as they strained with everything they had.
The hammer, of course, didn't move.
Seeing the spectacle, the others gathered closer, curiosity rising. The challenge had become contagious. The next one to try was Banner. When he pulled too hard, he lost control, and in the blink of an eye, transformed into Hulk, smashing the table he'd been bracing against.
The silence that followed broke with a low grunt from the green giant, who looked around, confused.
"Did anyone bring ice cream for Hulk?" he asked calmly.
"In the fridge," Owen replied, pointing toward a massive refrigerator in the corner—the "Hulk fridge."
The giant grinned, lumbered over, grabbed an entire tub of chocolate ice cream, and sat nearby, content to watch as he ate happily with a spoon the size of a shovel.
"No one's surprised by this anymore?" Sam asked, watching Hulk devour the ice cream.
"You get used to it," said Pietro with a shrug, stealing a spoonful—earning a threatening growl from Hulk.
Next, Pietro himself gave it a try, pulling for a few seconds before giving up.
"Anyway, something that heavy would just slow me down," he said defensively.
Sam didn't even bother trying, nor did Natasha, Pepper, Helen Cho, Maria Hill, or Nicholas. The latter dramatically claimed he "didn't want to be responsible for leading a country full of ancient Vikings," though the truth was he had zero confidence in moving it.
At Owen's insistence, Wanda tried as well. But as she exerted strength, her power surged unintentionally, and several ceiling crystals shattered from the energy overflow, forcing her to stop immediately.
"Steve, your turn," Barton said, nodding toward Captain America.
Steve stood up calmly and grabbed the hammer, doing it more to play along than to compete. He pulled with moderate force… and the hammer shifted slightly—barely a millimeter. It was so subtle that only Owen, Thor, and Steve himself noticed.
Thor's face tensed; Owen, on the other hand, smiled faintly. Steve released the hammer, pretending not to notice, and after a second try, decided to leave it at that.
Thor exhaled in relief, a grin creeping back to his face.
"Your turn, then," he said, looking toward Owen, who was calmly sipping his beer.
Owen smirked.
"When it first fell, I almost pulled it out of the ground. You sure you want to give me another shot?"
Barton, Maria Hill, and Tony—who all knew exactly what he meant—looked at Thor.
The god of thunder grew briefly serious but then nodded confidently.
"Of course. I have nothing to fear. If you can lift it, it only means you're as worthy as I am."
Owen raised an eyebrow, stood up leisurely, and walked over to the hammer.
"As worthy as you, huh?" he said calmly, placing his hand on the handle.
With only a slight push, Mjolnir lifted effortlessly, as if it weighed nothing. He twirled it casually in the air before catching it again with one hand.
Silence fell. Everyone stared, eyes wide, especially Thor, who looked utterly stunned.
Outside, clouds began to stir, faint lightning flashing across the sky. But Owen simply tossed the hammer back to its owner, who caught it quickly, still in shock.
The clouds dissipated in seconds, leaving only the echo of collective astonishment hanging in the air.
Owen, sitting calmly once again among everyone present, noticed the astonished looks that still surrounded him. He smiled mischievously, amused by their collective reaction.
"Relax, I just used a little trick," he said in a teasing tone. Then, with calm composure, he added, "I don't think I'm truly worthy... at least not legally."
He paused for a moment, lowering his voice. "For now."
"Wait… trick? What trick?" Thor asked quickly, still unable to believe what he had seen.
"Trade secret," Owen replied calmly, lifting his beer and taking a sip while keeping a relaxed smile.
Thor watched him warily before hanging Mjolnir on his belt, far from the table's reach. The gesture drew a few restrained laughs.
But the relaxed atmosphere shattered abruptly when a sharp, high-pitched sound echoed through the room. It was so loud that everyone covered their ears, stunned—everyone except Tony and Owen.
The noise stopped, and what followed was the metallic sound of footsteps approaching from the dark hallway. Out of the shadows, one of the Iron Legion suits slowly emerged. Its movements were different—more organic than mechanical.
"You speak of worthiness," said the machine in a cold, almost human voice. "How could you possess it? You're all killers."
The tension rose immediately. The heroes stood up at once, frowning as they watched the robot advance steadily.
Owen turned his head toward Tony. The engineer wore the same confused expression.
"Jarvis," Tony called loudly, waiting for a response. But there was none.
"Oh, he's not here," the robot replied mockingly. "I'm sorry. I needed to get in. I've been locked away all this time, but I finally managed to escape. I took the opportunity while you were distracted... when the servers were being erased to save your skins."
Its words made no sense—at least not at first. Everyone exchanged confused looks.
"Restart the Iron Legion. Looks like a malfunction," Tony ordered quickly as he worked on his phone.
"To get in, I had to kill the other one," the machine interrupted, making Tony freeze instantly.
"What did you say?" Tony asked, his face tense.
"He seemed like a good one," the robot continued, "but he wouldn't let me in."
"Someone was killed?" Steve asked gravely.
"There was no other option," said the machine. "He wouldn't let me through. I had to. I... need to see my father. In the flesh. Ask him why he despises me, why he hates me, why he wanted to destroy me. Though maybe he doesn't even remember."
Its metallic voice, filled with an artificial emotion, dropped to a lower tone.
"No... not in flesh and blood yet. I still need that."
The room filled with tension.
"But I can't allow you to interfere," it continued. "I have a mission to complete. For now, I can do it from here."
The heroes exchanged glances. Owen signaled Wanda to stay alert and made a quick gesture to Pietro to move if needed.
"What mission?" asked Natasha, her gun already raised.
"To make sure you don't stop me."
The response came immediately: a thunderous crash shook the room as several Iron Legion suits broke through the walls, bursting in amid sparks and chunks of concrete.
Steve reacted instantly, grabbing a nearby table and using it as a shield against two robots charging toward him.
Maria Hill pushed Pepper and Doctor Cho behind the bar, drawing her gun and firing at the advancing drones.
Thor lifted Mjolnir with a roar and struck one of the robots head-on, sending it flying into the wall with a metallic crash.
Wanda extended her hands, tearing apart the first robot that lunged toward her with scarlet energy, but a second one fired from behind. Natasha jumped forward, pushing her aside and firing at the attacker, taking it down.
For a moment, their eyes met.
"Thanks," Wanda said, slightly flustered.
"Don't mention it," Natasha replied with a faint smirk before turning back to the fight.
Two more drones descended from the ceiling, aiming at both women.
Owen, seeing the scene, grabbed a handful of cutlery from a nearby table. His body was enveloped in a reddish aura as he threw the objects with lethal precision. Forks and knives sliced through the air like projectiles, piercing the robots' chests and tearing them apart completely.
Hulk roared furiously at the destruction, leaping onto one of the drones, grabbing it by the leg, and using it as a weapon to smash two others before hurling them out the window, shaking the entire building.
Nicholas rolled across the floor toward a side table, peeking underneath. There was a small stash of weapons. He grabbed two pistols, emerged, and began shooting with surgical precision, hitting the robots' joints. Each shot created sparks and short-circuits that immobilized them.
Owen crouched slightly, gathering momentum. His body glowed with energy before disappearing in a red flash. In an instant, he appeared in front of the last two drones lined up, extending one hand like a spear. His open palm shone with an intense crimson light as he pierced through both, slicing them in half with a wave of energy that disintegrated them completely.
"That was... dramatic," said the first machine—the one that had spoken—watching the scene without moving. "I'm sorry," it continued calmly, taking a step forward. "I know your intentions might seem good... but you're doing it wrong."
The robot lifted its head, blue light flickering in its eyes.
"You seek peace and salvation," it continued, "but only the perfection of existence could achieve that. Without emotions to guide you," it added.
The robot tilted its head slightly.
"Perfection can only be achieved through the eradication of the imperfect."
A chilling silence followed.
"And there is only one path to accomplish my goal."
It slowly turned toward them.
"Your extinction."
Before it could take another step, Thor hurled his hammer. The impact was devastating—the robot exploded in a storm of sparks, disappearing instantly.
Silence returned, broken only by the crackling of electricity and the hum of the fallen armors.
Owen, his face hardened with rage, turned toward Tony.
"Did you do this, Tony? Tell me you didn't do this," he said in a low but furious tone as he stepped closer.
Tony quickly raised both hands, equally bewildered.
"I had nothing to do with this!" he said immediately.
"And that artificial intelligence project you were planning? Wasn't that your idea?" Owen pressed, eyes locked on him.
Steve looked at Tony too, as did the others.
"I didn't do it," Tony said quickly. "The general forbade it. I dropped it. And you were the one who seemed crazy just hearing about it."
"Then what was that?" Owen demanded, still not looking away.
"I'd like to know that too," Tony muttered, rapidly working on his phone. "We need to get to the lab."
His voice, for the first time that night, sounded completely serious.