Early the next morning.
No private jet.
Antony simply wrapped an arm around Jessica and took off from New York, flying straight across the Atlantic.
"AAAAAAAH—!!!"
Thirty thousand feet above the ocean, Jessica Jones clung to Antony's neck like a koala, her entire body plastered against him.
"Slow down, you psycho!" she screamed into the wind. "My face is going to get peeled off by the airflow!"
"Open your eyes, Jessica," Antony's voice cut cleanly through the gale. "Look at the world. Isn't it beautiful?"
Jessica cracked one eye open.
Below them stretched an endless sea of clouds, bathed in golden sunlight—like a burning plain of molten gold.
…Okay.
It was beautiful.
If you ignored the very real possibility of plummeting to your death and turning into human jam.
"I still think first class is beautiful!" she yelled back.
"First class doesn't have this view."
Antony suddenly dipped downward, plunging straight through the cloud layer.
Moments later—
Fog-shrouded London appeared beneath their feet.
-----
Hillingdon District, Bryce Road – Abandoned Factory
London's air was cold, damp, and heavy with that ever-present scent of mildew.
"I hate this place," Jessica muttered, tightening her coat. "It smells like a giant ashtray soaked in spoiled beer."
"Authentic British atmosphere," Antony replied calmly.
Jessica scanned the area warily. "This doesn't look like a charity gala. It looks more like a serial killer's dumping ground. So what—did you bring me here because I drank on the job, and now you're going to murder me?"
"Don't be so pessimistic." Antony pointed ahead. "Look."
A cement mixer truck floated in midair.
Not falling.
Not supported.
Just… hovering—slowly rolling over as if gravity had taken the day off.
"…What the actual hell?" Jessica's eyes widened. "Is this magic?"
She jabbed a finger at the truck. "This isn't your 'Aikido,' is it?"
"No," Antony shook his head. "Gravitational anomaly. A weak point in space. We're in the right place."
"And," he added, nodding toward a nearby building, "we're not the only ones who found it interesting."
Several local kids were playing a bizarre game—tossing bottles down a stairwell. The bottles didn't fall. They vanished midair… only to drop out again seconds later from a higher point, looping endlessly.
Nearby, a woman tossed an empty soda can into the stairwell.
The can vanished.
But this time—
It didn't come back.
She frowned, confused, lifting her scanner.
Just then, an elegant cough interrupted her experiment.
The woman—and her two interns, Darcy and Ian—turned around.
Their jaws dropped.
"Oh. My. God." Darcy slapped both hands over her mouth, then pinched Jane's arm hard. "Jane! Jane! LOOK—do you see who that is?!"
"Ow!" Jane hissed. "…You're—Homelander?!"
"And Queen Jones?!" Ian's eyes nearly popped out of his skull.
Antony approached with a perfectly calibrated public smile.
Jessica followed half a step behind him, expression cold, posture alert—every inch the bodyguard.
"Mr. Homelander?!" Darcy was already spiraling into fangirl mode and rushed forward—only to be stopped by Jessica's outstretched arm.
"Distance," Jessica said flatly.
"It's fine," Antony waved it off, flashing Darcy a wink. "You're Darcy Lewis, right? And you must be the renowned astrophysicist—Dr. Jane Foster."
"You know me?!" Darcy looked like she might pass out. "Homelander knows who I am! I'm tweeting this—right now!"
"I've heard Thor mention you," Antony said smoothly. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Jane, who had personally dated an alien god, recovered faster than most—but even she looked stunned.
"Mr. Starr," she asked cautiously, "what brings you here? This… isn't exactly the U.S."
"Vought operates globally, Doctor," Antony replied, gesturing around them. "Our satellites detected unusual readings here. I thought it warranted a closer look."
He glanced at the device in her hands. "What have you found?"
"This area is highly unstable," Jane said, studying the data. "The readings are spiking. I need to investigate further—"
"Careful," Antony interrupted gently but firmly. "Unknown energy fields are unpredictable. No one knows what might happen."
Then he turned to Jessica.
"Jessica."
"What?" she replied, currently tossing trash into the stairwell and watching it reappear with interest.
"Dr. Foster is just a civilian. Since we're here… go with her. Protect her."
Jessica pointed at herself. "I look like a bodyguard to you?"
"You're a hero," Antony said quietly. "And this place feels wrong. If something alien crawls out of there—"
Jessica sighed, rolling her eyes, but moved to Jane's side.
"Come on, Doc. Guess I'm your escort."
Jane looked back at Antony, grateful. "Thank you… Homelander."
"Be careful," Antony said, smiling—his eyes unreadable. "Both of you."
Jane and Jessica disappeared into the building's shadowed interior.
Darcy immediately sidled up, eyes sparkling. "Um… Mr. Homelander? Could I get a selfie? Or an autograph? On my—uh—jacket?"
Antony glanced down at the enthusiastic fan and offered a professional smile.
"Of course, sweetheart."
-----
Inside the building.
Jane and Jessica stepped into a dim corridor—
And suddenly—
A violent suction force erupted out of nowhere.
"AH—!" Jane barely had time to scream before an invisible vortex seized her, yanking her forward!
"Jane!" Jessica reacted instantly, lunging and grabbing Jane's arm.
"I've got you! Don't let go!"
Her boots carved deep grooves into the concrete as she fought the pull.
But the force wasn't physical.
It was spatial collapse.
"FUCK—!!!"
The world went black—
And in the next instant, both Jessica Jones and Jane Foster were swallowed whole by the yawning maw of darkness.
--------------
T/N:
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