"You really think that kid's going to listen to a word about 'protocols,' Steve? He practically told you your rulebook was toilet paper. Nad how the hell did you agree to let him join the avenger… when even..."
To complete it Sam wasn't part of the avengers team but a supporting role, he was interested in joining the avengers team but to think a kid with an arrogant attitude got into a team before him.
Well… it was anger or jealousy on his part maybe.
"It was Tony's idea and surprisingly Kid got some amazing powers to back up his arrogant and prideful attitude, Sam," Steve insisted. "And others agreed on this too… that it would be a good idea to let him join part time. This way they can keep an eye on him."
As the night wore on, the crowd began to thin. Guests, looking content and slightly tipsy, started making their farewells.
Gojo, having finished his dessert exploration, had found a comfortable armchair and was now, much to Tony's amusement, seemingly trying to teach Jarvis (via Tony's discarded tablet he'd "borrowed") how to play a complex-looking mobile game, his fingers flying across the screen.
"No, Jarvis, you have to anticipate the opponent's move before they make it. It's about predicting the flow, see?"
"I am processing multiple terabytes of predictive algorithms, Mr. Satoru," Jarvis's calm voice replied from the tablet. "However, the 'flow' of 'Candy Crush Saga' remains… elusive."
After an hour or so. The last of the guests finally departed, offering thanks and goodbyes. The large room, once bustling with life, now felt quiet, almost cavernous.
….
The last of the party guests had finally trickled out, leaving the grand common room of Avengers Tower in a state of relaxed disarray. Empty glasses and discarded napkins littered the tables, and the once vibrant music had faded to a low, ambient hum.
The core Avengers Tony, Steve, Thor, Bruce, Natasha, and Clint along with Maria Hill, were gathered around the large, low coffee table in the center of the room. They were tired, the adrenaline of the recent mission and the energy of hosting finally catching up, but a comfortable, easygoing atmosphere settled over them. Drinks were still in hand, refilled less frequently now.
Gojo was still present, having migrated from the dessert table to a particularly plush armchair. He'd finally acquired his new, Jarvis-equipped smartphone from Tony and was engrossed in exploring its features, occasionally swiping or tapping with a focused intensity. However, one ear, or perhaps his Six Eyes even through the dark lenses, was clearly tuned into the conversation of the "grown-ups."
Mjolnir, Thor's mighty hammer, rested innocuously on the coffee table amidst the clutter of glasses and discarded coasters, as it often did when Thor was relaxing.
The conversation, initially a rehash of the party's more amusing moments, naturally drifted. Clint, always one for a bit of playful prodding, gestured towards the hammer with his drink. "So, Thor," he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Hypothetically speaking, if one of us could lift that thing, does that mean we get to rule Asgard? Do I get a pointy helmet and a cape?"
Thor let out a hearty laugh, his voice booming even in the spacious room. "But of course, Man of Hawks!" he declared. "The throne of Asgard, access to the royal mead cellars, the adoration of my people it would all be yours! Should you prove worthy, that is."
Clint grinned. "Challenge accepted." He set down his drink, rolled his shoulders, and theatrically approached the coffee table. He wrapped his hands around Mjolnir's handle and pulled. Nothing. He strained, his face reddening slightly. The hammer didn't budge a millimeter. "Okay, nope. Still heavy," he grunted, stepping back amidst a few chuckles. "Must be a trick."
"Ah, the classic 'it's just really heavy' defense," Tony quipped, pushing himself up. "Allow me, Legolas. It's all in the technique. And possibly advanced technology." He strode over, flexing his fingers. He tried to lift it with his bare hands, with no more success than Clint. "Alright, Jarvis, give me the assist." His Iron Man gauntlet materialized over his right hand with a whir and a clang. He tried again, the gauntlet's servos whining. Still nothing. Rhodey, who had lingered, even came over to add his strength alongside Tony's gauntlet. The hammer remained resolutely planted. "Is this thing, like, superglued down?" Tony muttered, retracting the gauntlet.
Bruce Banner, a smirk playing on his lips, made a show of approaching the hammer. He wiggled his fingers, then made a mock roar and flexed, pretending to hulk out, his face contorting comically. "Raaargh! Hammer too… worthy!" he gasped, then dissolved into laughter along with the others.
Finally, Steve Rogers, with a quiet smile, stepped forward. He placed his hand on Mjolnir's leather-wrapped handle. He gave a firm, steady pull.
For a split second, the impossible happened. The hammer shifted. It was a minuscule movement, a tiny budge, barely perceptible. But it moved. A flicker of something surprise? Concern? crossed Thor's usually jovial face. The others fell silent, their eyes wide. Steve, equally surprised, let go, a thoughtful expression on his face.
The moment passed. The lighthearted banter returned, though now tinged with a new layer of intrigue. The conversation naturally shifted to the enchantment itself, the deeper meaning of "worthiness."
Thor, his earlier flicker of concern replaced by a renewed swagger, puffed out his chest. "You see?" he boomed, gesturing grandly at Mjolnir. "It is as I said. The Worthiness is absolute. Mjolnir is a discerning judge of character. And ut cannot be picked up by anyone non-worthy. And it has judged that none of you," he paused for dramatic effect, his gaze sweeping over them, "are worthy."
Just as he finished his pronouncement, the lights in the Tower flickered violently, plunging the room into momentary darkness before stuttering back on, dimmer than before. An unsettling, high-pitched whine echoed from the direction of the large, floor-to-ceiling windows.
Then, a distorted, metallic voice rasped through the room, filled with a chilling, broken cadence. "Worthiness…? You speak of worthiness?"
A figure stumbled into the room from the shadows near the windows. It was an Iron Legion drone, one of Tony's peacekeeping robots, but it was horrifically battered. Sparks flew from its damaged chassis, its limbs moved with an erratic, jerky gait, and one of its optical sensors was dark.
"None of you are worthy," the broken voice continued, each word dripping with a cold, alien disdain. "Not one of you." The drone staggered forward, its remaining light flickering menacingly in the dim room. The party was well and truly over.
….
A/N: With this Mass realse it over. If you want chapter daily or daily-daily. Help me get in top 3 spots in collection and popularity ranking.
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