The Eternal Kingdom — Temple of Light
In the resplendent palace of the Eternal Kingdom, Gilgamesh sat idly upon his throne, his right hand resting on the armrest. His fingers tapped in a steady rhythm, betraying the restlessness beneath his calm exterior.
"How long has Loki been on Earth?"
His crimson eyes opened slightly, their reflection falling upon Saga, who stood with his hands clasped behind his back in the grand hall.
"Today marks half a year," the Gemini Gold Saint replied promptly. "Tomorrow, Thor will descend to Midgard."
Gilgamesh's lips curved faintly. "My brother is no pushover. In half a year, who knows what chaos he's already sown upon Earth."
"Does Your Excellency believe he poses a threat to you?" Saga asked cautiously. He knew all too well that Loki—known not only as the Evil God, but also as the God of Tricks—never acted without layers of deception behind his every move.
"A threat?" Gilgamesh sneered, amusement flickering in his scarlet gaze. "Whether it's a conspiracy or a trick, I only worry that he won't bring me any fun."
Saga fell silent. His master's arrogance remained as unshakable as ever. To the people, he was no benevolent ruler.
Though Gilgamesh had no desire for Odin's throne, it was almost certain that he would emerge as the victor in the so-called "Trial of the King."
For Odin to hold such a contest was, in truth, tantamount to surrendering his crown to Gilgamesh himself.
But could that really be the All-Father's intent?
Saga silently shook his head. From an outsider's view, the situation was clear. Gilgamesh might not be the most suitable candidate for the throne of the gods—but neither could Saga imagine how Thor could ever surpass his master's overwhelming might to claim it.
Unfortunately, his doubts would never find an answer…
The Next Day — The Trial Begins
Under the watchful eyes of countless gods, Thor stepped forth to join the Trial of the King.
Above Midgard, dark clouds gathered, spiraling into a vortex that split the heavens. The anomaly was detected immediately by S.H.I.E.L.D. sensors.
Inside headquarters, Commander Maria Hill strode briskly into the director's office. "Director Fury, we've detected another high-energy surge—this time in Central Park, Manhattan!"
Nick Fury's single eye hardened. He rose from his seat with a heavy expression. "Alert all nearby agents and special ops teams. Evacuate the surrounding area and lock down the site. And Hill—make sure the media doesn't catch wind of this. I'm not dealing with another circus like last time."
Hill nodded, standing silently in place, waiting—knowing full well the director wasn't done speaking.
Sure enough, after a brief pause, Fury added, "Tell Coulson to stop babysitting that Kingpin punk. And keep the FBI off my back—they've been buzzing around like flies."
Hill turned to leave, her expression impassive. Just as she reached the doorway, Fury's voice came again:
"And Hill—next time you report, knock first."
With her back still to him, the agent rolled her eyes silently before walking out.
Meanwhile — New York City
Across the city, others had also noticed the strange phenomenon above Manhattan.
In his seaside villa's underground workshop, Tony Stark stood before a holographic projection. A sleek, pale-blue Iron Man armor floated in midair, disassembled into hundreds of shimmering components.
"The resonator's output still isn't stable," Tony muttered, adjusting the display with a flick of his fingers. "At full power, it overloads the entire circuit. Jarvis, flag this for priority tuning."
"Yes, sir," replied the familiar calm of the AI's voice—smooth, deep, and impeccably polite.
"Also, recalibrate the synchronization between the shock absorption system and the joint modules. This whole thing needs—"
"Wait, sir," Jarvis interrupted.
Stark had just finished summarizing the other issues when Jarvis's voice cut in sharply.
"Sir, we've just detected a major event on the S.H.I.E.L.D. internal network. Would you like to view the live feed?"
"Oh?" Stark arched an eyebrow. "Looks like that blindfolded agent chief has a surprise for me." He leaned back with a smirk. "Alright, let's see what this surprise is."
The light in the lab shifted, and the holographic armor model flickered, transforming into a live video feed.
Above the green expanse of Central Park, the sky churned with thick storm clouds. Within them, faint bands of rainbow light twisted and converged, forming a massive funnel amidst flashes of lightning and thunder.
"Am I drunk, or have I seen this before?" Stark muttered.
"Sir," Jarvis replied evenly, "a similar phenomenon occurred at Port Seven in New York six months ago. Eighty-four gang members perished that night. The exact cause remains unknown. The incident is classified within S.H.I.E.L.D.'s confidential archives."
"To manipulate the atmosphere like that, the tech behind it must be very advanced." Stark began walking toward the armor platform. The mechanical assembly arms whirred to life, snapping plates of gold and red metal onto him piece by piece. "Jarvis, you really should've reminded me last time. I've been waiting half a year for this."
"Last time, sir, you were on a date with Miss Potts and had disabled all communications."
"Right, right. Don't rub it in." Stark sighed, exasperated by his AI's snark. "Just… don't do that again."
Fully armored now, he lowered his helmet, sealing himself inside the suit with a satisfying click. The skylight above opened, sunlight flooding the room.
The propulsion system roared to life. Flames burst from his boots and palms as Iron Man launched into the sky—his destination: Central Park, Manhattan.
Fisk Tower – Top Floor Office
Wilson Fisk sat behind his massive desk, a thick cigar smoldering between his fingers. His black suit strained against his broad frame, and his mood was equally inflated.
Ever since Loki had joined forces with him, the Kingpin's empire had grown exponentially. Supervillains, mercenaries, assassins—some of the deadliest in the world—now answered to him. His power had risen to the point where even the Hand could no longer ignore him.
At this rate, becoming a global crime lord was no longer a dream—it was a matter of time.
But one thing still gnawed at him: S.H.I.E.L.D.
Their agents were like ghosts—everywhere and nowhere—monitoring calls, messages, even faxes. Fisk hadn't dared to contact his lieutenants directly in months, and in that silence, Loki had quietly expanded his own influence.
If things continued like this, it wouldn't be long before the god took his throne.
The six-month deadline had finally come, and Loki still hadn't made his move. It was time to strike—remove the trickster before he became a threat.
But just as Fisk began plotting how to discreetly dispose of his divine "partner," a familiar, mocking voice echoed through the office.
"The Rainbow Bridge has been activated," Loki announced. "My brother Thor is about to arrive on Earth. Come with me to greet him. We'll need his power if we're to deal with Gilgameshdin."
The sudden voice made Fisk flinch. He scowled, cigar smoke curling from his lips. "Next time, can't you knock before barging in?"
"Knock?" Loki's laughter was low and wicked. "Why would I knock when I'm on my own turf?"
Fisk's expression darkened. Nominally, Loki was his ally—but in truth, until he saw proof of these so-called Aesir gods, Fisk still considered himself the one in charge.
No matter how powerful Loki seemed…
he was still just a dog living under someone else's roof.