Chapter 57

  Arc 5 - Ch 10: Weird Shit

  Date: Thursday, June 2, 2011.

  Location: Shield field base, outside Pueiguo, NMTyson had left New York early intending to be among the first to arrive at the site in New Mexico. But the lengthy trip took lohaicipated. By the time he finally reached his destination te iernoon, the SHIELD base was already a fully operational hub of activity. Standing at a distance, he surveyed the se, his mind momentarily wandering as he thought of Natasha and the time they could have spent together that m.

  The SHIELD camp sprawled before him in a circur formation, with temporary structures f the perimeter. Each served a distinct purpose; some housed researd analysis teams, others stored equipment, a another had been verted into a makeshift aer. At the ter of the camp sat Mjolnir, cordoned off in a clear zone under heavy guard. Agents patrolled the perimeter vigintly as stists worked with teical equipment all aimed at uanding the mysterious hammer. Large floodlights surrouhe area, ensuring it stayed well-lit regardless of the time of day ht. Vehicles ranging from standard SUVs to specialized transport trucks were parked he camp’s edge. The presence of a few armored trucks hi the gravity with which SHIELD roag the situation. Satellite dishes and unication antennas were visible on every structure and even some vehicles.

  A burly agent built like a linebacker stepped forward to intercept Mirage's approach, one hand raised. "ID," he rumbled, features set in a stoic mask. Despite the man's size and the aura of intimidation he projected, Tyson was unfazed. Mirage plied, passing over his credentials. The guard scrutihem thhly before returning them with a nod. "Follow me," he instructed, leading Mirage into the encampment.

  They wound their way through the trolled bustle. Mirage took note of the state-of-the-art equipment and stern-faced agents they passed, all single-mindedly focused oasks. Finally, they reached a pair of agents coordinating things. Mirage reized one of them and broke into a smile. "Agent Coulson, good to see you again," he said warmly, his hand.

  Coulson accepted his handshake. "Mirage. Same," Coulson replied in his usual clipped tones. He ined his head towards the nondescript agent at his side. "This is Agent Sitwell, my sed-in-and."

  Sitwell was a bald man with brown skin and wire-rimmed gsses perched on his nose. He gave Mirage a curt nod iing. Mirage returhe gesture, noting how Sitwell's gaze quickly sized him up before moving on.

  Something about Sitwell the back of Tyson's mind, a sense of familiarity he couldn't quite pce.

  The mood of the group was all business. Tyson's arrival was just another piece to factor in to the well-oiled mae. Mirage looked to Coulsoioningly. "Anything you need from me at the moment?"

  The lead agent sidered him. "Not currently. You're unfamiliar with our procedures, and your skills aren't specialized for research. Stand by for now."

  Mirage accepted the orders easily. He was an outsider here and would follow the agent's lead. Tyson uood the importance of w alongside ents. "Maybe I'll try to get my hands on a SHIELD operations manual and start studying," he ented.

  "Good idea. It would help you tribute more effectively to the team." Coulson responded approvingly.

  At this point, Agent Sitwell, who had been listening to their exge, spoke up, "I help with that," he offered.

  Tyson walked off down the hallway with Sitwell. As they moved away from the main group, the ageended his hand toward Mirage for a handshake. Tyson, still bothered that he reized the man, but couldn't pce him, locked eyes with the SHIELD agent and subtly used his powers to override the man's senses. Instead of shaking Sitwell's hand, Tyson quickly removed the glove and made quick skin tact. Thanks to his illusions, Sitwell didn't register the movement, the apanying pain, or the drain on his life force. To Sitwell, Mirage firmly shook his hand.

  He grew up in Norfolk, Virginia in a middle-css family. Even as a child, he was fiercely petitive, always striving to be the best ihing. Academics, sports, and popurity. He craved being admired and respected by his peers. In high school, he excelled and was heavily recruited by colleges, but his path took an ued turn when a representative approached him from an exclusive academy. Enticed by promises of power, influence, and being part of something greater, he accepted their offer.

  At the academy, Sitwell underwent rigorous training, not just in espionage and bat, but also in HYDRA's ideology. Upon graduation, HYDRA arranged for him to join SHIELD, ostensibly in the administrative division, but iy as their undercover operative. As a SHIELD agent, Sitwell was the model of professionalism and effi the surface. He advanced up the ranks, gaining more and more trust and access. All the while, he secretly passed sensitive io his HYDRA handlers and maniputed events from the shadows to further their agenda. He recruited loyal HYDRA operatives to fill the ranks of SHIELD agents, so they would be ready to proceed with HYDRA pns when ordered.

  However, occasionally he felt pangs of guilt, seeing the friendships and camaraderie among his SHIELD colleagues, knowing he would ultimately betray them. He pushed those doubts aside, telling himself that HYDRA's vision was the only way t true order to a chaotic world. The sacrifices were necessary and justified.

  As Tyson absorbed the man's memories, it jogged his recolle from the meta-knowledge he possessed. Sitwell was a HYDRA agent who would bee promi during the events surrounding Captain Amerid the Winter Soldier. Tyson barely remembered him because he had pyed such a background role before being killed.

  Sitwell's voice held a hint of respect as he ented, "I read the reports of how you hahe Green Goblin. I look forward to seeing your skills in a."

  Tyson accepted the pliment smoothly, replying "If you don't get the ce to observe my powers during this operation, you always call House of M. I keep a few VIP seats reserved; a high-ranking operative like yourself qualifies for that status. Feel free to drop by the ime you're in New York."

  Sitwell seemed to appreciate the gesture of goodwill. He then led Mirage to a small, spartan room, ideal for studying. The space held just the bare essentials; a table, chair, and a single bright overhead light. The double agent hayson SHIELD's thick operations manual.

  Mirage looked into Sitwell's eyes as he sat across from Tyson. Tyson drew him into his power and said, "I'd be the perfect recruit." Mirage held his gaze for just a moment lohen released him.

  Sitwell blinked, his expression momentarily unfocused befaining his posure. He studied Mirage ily as if seeing him for the first time.

  "You know, Mirage, your skills and abilities are truly remarkable," Sitwell began, his toaking on a spiratorial edge. "Have you ever sidered using them freater cause?"

  Mirage arched an eyebrow, feigning curiosity. "I'm already a sultant for SHIELD, isn't that the point? Did you have something else in mind?"

  Sitwell leaned forward, his expression veying inteerest. "I watched your testimony before the Senate Armed Forces ittee," he said, l his voice as if to share a fidehe way you hahose questions was impressive. You want to help and you're doing what you think is right. Someoh your abilities could be an invaluable asset, and it's obvious that you want to serve the greater good," he pressed on. "A sultant role hardly does you justice. You have the potential for so much more, to be part of something greater, more than just anover agent."

  "I'm listening," Mirage said, his toral yet encing Sitwell to eborate.

  "There's an anization, a group operating within SHIELD itself," he began, his words carefully chosen. "We've been w towards a vision of a better world where true order and security reign supreme."

  Mirage's brow furrowed slightly, feigning fusion. "You're talking about HYDRA, aren't you?"

  Sitwell's expression wavered, "You know about HYDRA?" He asked.

  Tyson's brow furrowed slightly as he answered, "You said you saw my testimony. I mentioned William Stryker." He paused, sidering how much to reveal. "During my enter with him, he mentioned Hydra."

  Sitwell nodded, unfazed. "Stryker went rogue and used our resources to his ends. The man roblem." He shrugged as if discussing something trivial. "Fortunately, his as brought about his downfall."

  His casual words firmed a part of the circumstances around Stryker's death. Tyson was able to read between the lines. Sitwell and his superiors had sidered Stryker a loose end. But they hadn't been the oo tidy him up.

  It was a mutant, not HYDRA that killed Stryker.

  "We prefer to think of ourselves as the solution, not the problem," Sitwell tered smoothly. "SHIELD is too bound by bureaucracy. They ck the resolve to take the necessary steps to safeguard humanity."

  Leaning ba his chair, Mirage sidered Sitwell's words. "And what steps would those be, exactly?"

  "Whatever it takes," Sitwell stated, his tone leaving no room for ambiguity. "HYDRA uands that sacrifices must be made for the greater good. We ot allow se or misguided ideals to stand in the way of true progress."

  There was a ruthless vi in the agent's voice, a willio embrace the most extreme measures in pursuit of HYDRA's goals.

  Mirage's eyes narrowed as she studied Sitwell. "When you say things like doing what's necessary to safeguard humanity... you sound an awful lot like Stryker," she said, her tone guarded. "Where do you stand when it es to mutants?"

  Sitwell raised his hands in a pg gesture, his palms outward. "Mutants are progress," he replied smoothly. "But like humans, they o be trolled."

  Tyson's frown deepened, his brow furrowing. He did not care for the implication behind Sitwell's words.

  Uurbed, Sitwell tinued. "Hydra works in cells. partmentalization is key. Cut off one head, two more take its pce. I don't know who the leaders are, but there's a cil, or so the rumors say. At least one of them is a mutant, supposedly." His tone was matter-of-fact as if he were discussing the weather rather than the destine inner ws of a terrorist anization.

  "We receive our orders directly from the World Security cil." He paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in before tinuing. "We're ae group, dedicated to safeguarding the world. You could be an invaluable asset to our cause."

  Mirage maintained a ral expression, giving nothing away. "That's quite an offer," he said slowly. "What would be expected of me?"

  Sitwell's gaze was intense, his eyes b inte's. "Loyalty and discretion, of course. But iurn, you'd be part of something greater than yourself, w to shape the course of humas for the betterment of all."

  Mirage sidered his words carefully, already knowing the truth behind Sitwell's recruitment pitch. After a moment, he nodded. "I'm in," he said, "When do I start?"

  Satisfa flickered across Sitwell's features. "Excellent. We already have a liaison in mind. She'll be tag you soon." He rose from his seat, extending his hand te.

  Mirage csped the offered hand firmly, sealing the deal with a firm shake. As Sitwell turo leave, he leaned in close. "Hail, HYDRA," he whispered.

  With that, Agent Sitwell departed, leaving Mirage aloh the SHIELD operations manual and the knowledge that he had just been recruited into the very heart of the enemy's ranks.

  With the door closed behind him, Tysoled into the hard metal chair, opehe thick SHIELD operations manual, and immersed himself in the procedures and protocols.

  — Rogue Rept —

  The throne room of Asgard was a majestid awe-inspiring sight that embodied the grandeur and power of the realm of the gods. Vast in size, the s chamber was adorned with intricate desigched into the golden walls, speaking of remarkable craftsmanship. The high-vaulted ceilings reflected the light making the entire room glow with ahereal luminesce as if infused with the god's radiance.

  The great doors swung open with a resounding boom that echoed through the cavernous hall. Striding through the entryway came the Warriors Three, Fandral the Dashing, Hogun the Grim, and Volstagg the Valiant, led by the formidable Lady Sif. Their armor ked softly with each purposeful step across the gleaming floor. They were the epitome of Asgardian warriors, brave and formidable. Fandral carried himself with a swashbuckler's grad dashing fir. Hogun was stoic, exuding a quiet strength. Volstagg carried a heart that matched his massive frame. Sif moved with a warrior's poise, her prowess evident in her every motion. They approached the throne urgently, etched on their noble features.

  Sif took the lead, stepping forward with haste. "Allfather, we e before you with grave tidings and request an immediate audience," she announced, her voice eg through the silent hall.

  But as they raised their eyes to the throhey stopped short, shock repg their somber expressions. There sat not Odin, the venerable Allfather, but Prince Loki. His emerald cape cascaded down the sides of the elevated seat, the sharp horns of his ceremonial headdress rising menagly from his slicked-back raven hair. In his grip, he held Gungnir, the legendary spear symbolizing Asgardian authority.

  Loki's fident bearing made it clear he had cimed the mantle of leadership.

  Volstagg's disbelief broke the stunned silehat had fallehe hall. He demanded, "What is this?"

  With a self-assured smirk, Loki responded, His words dripped with mock surprise as if their ignorance of his atus was merely a trifling matter. "My friends, surely you have heard? I am now the Ruler of Asgard."

  Fandral gave voice to the question that weighed heavily upon them all. "Where is Odin?" He asked bluntly.

  A flicker of solemnity broke through Loki's smug facade. "Father has fallen into the Odinsleep," he revealed. "My mother fears he may never awaken again."

  This startling news sent a fresh wave of arm through Sif and the Warriors Three. The Odinsleep was a deep slumber Odin periodically entered as part of his natural cycle, but its ued o along with Loki's sudden rise to power aroused their gravest suspis.

  Sif and the Warriors Three exged meaningful looks, their unspoken sensus apparent. Sif turned her steely gaze upon the newly ed king, requesting, "We would speak with Queen Frigga."

  Their silent unication had not gone unnoticed. With calcuted posure, Loki replied, "She refuses to leave my father's bedside. You may bring this 'urgent' matter before me, your King." Though his words flowed smoothly, they carried an unmistakable undercurrent of and.

  Hearing his bold decration of authority, Sif quickly adapted to their new reality. She k in acquiesce along with the Warriors Three. "We would ask you to end Thor's banishment," she said, directly addressing their purpose in seeking an audieh the throne.

  Loki's face betrayed none of the calg thoughts ing within as he responded, "My first and as king ot be to undo the Allfather's st," he stated, his tone firm and decided. Though his reasoning appeared sound, Sif and the Warriors Three sensed deeper meaning tha on. The set of Loki's jaw and the glint in his emerald eyes hi ulterior motives and deeper maations at work. Loki's justificati hollow to their ears, like a pleasant fiasking hard truths. But outwardly they showed ion, schooling their features into expressions of polite attention.

  Loki tinued, "All of us must stand together, for the good of Asgard," he decred, emphasizing the need for unity in this difficult time. He was the picture of a benevolent ruler, yet his words cked true siy.

  "Of course," Fandral replied carefully ral.

  With a final bow of acquiesce, Sif and the Warriors Three took their leave of the throne room. But the tension remained palpable. Their doubts and unspoken s were evident i of their shoulders and the furrow between their brows as they exited.

  Loki's gaze lingered on their retreating figures, his sharp eyes missing nothing. Their obvious loyalty to Thor did not escape his notice, and he was wary of their potential interferehough he was the rightful king and his ands had been clear, Loki knew he could not fully trust them. In his mind, he began pting ways to deter their meddling, to ensure his rule remained unchallenged.

  A slow, ing smile spread across Loki's face as the seeds of a pn took root. It involved a certain individual, one perfectly suited to aid his purposes. His grin turned wicked at the thought, his mind already spinning with possibilities.

  With his devious pn firmly in mind, Loki rose from the immehrone. In his grip he carried Gungnir. Though his cim to the throne remaienuous, holding the legendary spear lent him authority, marking him as the ruler of Asgard. But Loki knew evehic spear's power had limits. Full obedience could not be guaranteed, not when doubts lingered about the rightness of his rule.

  Loki strode through the majestic halls, thereets. The presence of Gungnir cleared his path, any who saw the spear offered no challeo his passage. He moved with purpose, the tapping of the spear's butt oreets marking his progress.

  His destination loomed ahead, one of the immeowers of Asgard that seemed to scrape the very heavens. Loki climbed to the highest level, to the apex of the s spire, and found himself before an opulent door. Runes of warding covered its surface. Loki lifted Gungnir and brought the butt of the spear to the door in three sharp raps. The spear's magiteracted with the wards, announg the presence of Asgard's ruler. The protes reized his authority and granted him entrance.

  As the door swung open, Loki stepped into the vish chambers beyond. Silks and tapestries adorhe walls, and elegant furnishings filled the spaces. At the sound of the opening door, the apartment's sole oct had fallen to her knees in reverence. Head bowed, the oke, "Allfather, I wele you. How may I serve?"

  Larded the kneeling woman, her casg blonde hair spilled reen dress robes that matched her eyes. "You may rise, Amora," he instructed, "I wish to speak with you didly."

  At the sound of Loki's voice, Amora jerked her head up, eyes fshing. She had expected Odin, not the self-procimed god of mischief. Suspi in on her features as she sprang to her feet. "What trickery is this, Loki?" she demahough her tone held a note of caution.

  Loki dismissed her s with a shake of his head. "No trickery, Amora. Please, sit," he urged gently, motioning to a nearby chair. "Let me expin."

  Amora sank into the proffered chair, her emerald eyes fixed on Loki. Though his words cimed siy, she knew better than to trust the Trickster ht.

  "Thor has been banished," Loki began, "He is exiled to Midgard, stripped of his powers, ao live as a mortal." Amora straightened, intrigue fshing across her features. This twist could shift the bance of power in Asgard, and if Loki wielding Gungnir was an indication, it already had. She focused her attention on Loki, waiting for him to tinue. "You are likely aware of the frost giant attack during Thor's ation ceremony." Amave a single nod in aowledgment, prompting Loki to tinue. "Against Odin's orders, Thor led an assault on Jotunheim, provoking our a enemies and endangering the fragile peace."

  Loki painted a picture of Thor's rashness posing a real threat to Asgard's stability. Amora's eyes narrowed, thoughts ing behind her lovely face as the implications became clear.

  "In his wisdom, Odin decided Thor o learn humility," Loki tinued. "He stripped Thor of his powers and hammer before casting him out to live as a mortal oh." Amora absorbed this, uanding the gravity of a banishment for one as powerful and beloved as Thor. "Odin has fallen into the Odinsleep," Loki went on, his expression a mask of solemn duty. "With Thor bahe burden of ruling Asgard has fallen to me as in the line of succession."

  "There is more." Regret tinged Loki's voice. "The Allfather pced a worthiness entment upon Mjolnir as a trial for Thor. Should Thor fail to lift his hammer, he could be stripped of his birthright, forever."

  Loki's expression turned grave as he voiced his s. "I fear Sif and the Warriors Three do not grasp the gravity of Thor's trial," he fided. "They may try to interfere, which could result in Thor's perma exile." Emotion filled his voice. "Though I love Thor more than any of them, even I ot overturn the Allfather's decree."

  Turning to Amora, Loki's gaze locked with hers. "Will you help me, Amora? Help me aid Thor and Asgard in this difficult time."

  "What would you have me do?" she asked hesitantly.

  Loki's eyes glinted with ing as he regarded Amora. "As the rightful king of Asgard, I appoint you as the guardian of Thor's trial on Midgard," he decred.

  Amora's brow furrowed slightly, sidering the implications of such a role. "You would have me oversee the prince's banishment?" she asked.

  "Precisely," Loki affirmed, leaning forward in his seat. "I need someone I trust to ehor's trial proceeds as intended, without interference from those who would undermihe Allfather's decree."

  A slow smile spread across Amora's face as she reized the opportunity Loki presented. "You honor me with such a pivotal task, my king," she purred, her emerald eyes alight with ambition.

  Loki nodded, gratified by her acceptance. "You possess unparalleled skill, Amora. Who better to monitor Thor's progress and safeguard the iy of his trial?" Loki tinued. "Thor must rely solely on his abilities to face the tributions ahead. Preventing outside interference is imperative to ensure his trial is not improperly influenced."

  Amora nodded, relishing the challenge. Outmaneuvering Thor's loyal followers would be difficult, but not impossible for one of her talents.

  Loki's lips curved into a satisfied smile. The entress was hooked, just as he had anticipated. Now all that remained was dangling the allure of status and reition before the vain entress, and he would secure a powerful, if destine, ally.

  Loki's pierg green eyes fixed ily on Amora, "Your assistan this matter will not go unrewarded," he promised, "I assure you, the rewards will be fitting of your station and formidable abilities."

  Amora's eyes sparkled with i. "And what form might these rewards take?" she inquired, uo restrain her curiosity.

  Loki id out his proposal. "Imagine if Thor returriumphant, having passed his trial. Those who ehe impartiality of his test would surely find favor in his eyes." He let the implication hang for a moment before tinuing. "You, Amora, could gain status as a trusted ally, even a fidante. A position you have long desired." Loki's voice was smooth and pelling as he spoke. "Let us just say that your cooperation could elevate your status among Asgard's elite in ways you have long desired. Perhaps even a didate for Queen, when Thor iably cims his birthright." The suggestion was tailored to Amora's ambitions.

  Amora's emerald eyes glinted with ambition as the implications of Loki's offer took shape in her mind. This was the opportunity she had coveted for so long. A ce to prove herself, to gaiige and favor in the eyes of Asgard's elite. She could practically taste the power.

  However, Loki added a cautionary o temper her growihusiasm. "But be mindful, Amora," he warned, his voice l. "Failure could earn not only Thor's stiy but might also see his porincely station in Asgard irretrievably lost." Leaning closer, his voice dropped to a spiratorial whisper. "While the rewards for success are great, the sequences of failure are equally dire."

  Amora's excited expression faded as she nodded slowly, the full weight of Loki's words settling upon her. She uood the tremendous risks and high stakes involved in this covert mission. This was not just an opportunity for personal gain. It was a test of her magical skills and a challehat could irrevocably define her future standing in Asgard.

  "I uand pletely, liege Loki," she finally said, steeling her voice to sound resolute and unfazed. "You have my word that I will not fail you in this."

  Loki nodded, apparently satisfied with her fident response. "I trust you won't, Amora. For both all of Asgard's sake," he replied gravely. With those final portentous words, the gravity of the precarious task was firmly etched in the air between them.

  The trew quiet, as King Loki took his leave, giving way to the Entress' ption. A sly smile slowly spread across Amora's lips, hinting at anticipation aement for the challenge ahead. She relished the ce to assert her influend demonstrate her ing. Amora the Entress was renowned across Asgard for her skill in magic, guile, and her ability to subtly weave spells. This missioed the perfect opportunity to showcase her talents and secure her position in Asgard's hierarchy.

  With a clear sense of purpose, Amora wasted no time preparing for the task set before her by Loki. She swiftly moved through her opulent chambers, gathering an assortment of mystical tris and are artifacts. Each item was carefully selected for its specific magical properties. With her preparations plete, Amora did not linger. Her emerald robes flowed behind her as she moved with haste through Asgard. Her destination was the Bifrost, the Rainbe, an engineering marvel powered by Asgard's advanced magic.

  Amora strode purposefully along the shimmering Rainbe. As she approached the gateway of the Bifrost, she found Heimdall at his post, ever vigint as he stood watch over the realms.

  Amora faced the guardian of Asgard's gateway, his pierg gaze seeming to look through her. "Heimdall, Wat of the Bifrost," she began, bowing her head in respect. "I humbly request transport to Midgard."

  The t Asgardian scrutinized her, "Midgard?" he queried, his deep timbre hinting at unease regarding her iions.

  Carefully sidering her response, Amora chose her words. "Our king e to watch over Thor as he seeks to recim Mjolnir. I am to serve as the arbiter while he seeks to prove himself worthy," she expined, meeting Heimdall's gaze directly. "I intend no disrespect. I am sure you keep close watch over Thor already, but I oihis task by Loki himself."

  Heimdall pted her words silently. After a moment, he stepped aside, "I know you wish Thor no harm," he rumbled, yet his eyes narrowed. He added in a grave tone, "Remain vigint, Amora. Not all is as it appears."

  Unsure of his full meaning but aowledging the caution in his words, Amave a single nod iurn. One did not casually dismiss the Wat's words. Heimdall raised his ornate sword, the a runes along its bde fring with power as he plu into the Bifrost's trol meism.

  The bridge surged to life in a maelstrom of iergy and corusg light. Shimmering emerald, sapphire, silver, and gold hues swirled around Amora, coalesg into a tuhat stretched skyward, pierg the very fabric of space itself. The crystalline floor thrummed beh her feet, vibrating with the unleashed forces tained within it.

  In a fsh, she was enveloped pletely in the bridge's brilliahe universe blurred, a prismatic stream around her as she ropelled forward at an impossible speed. Crossing the vast gulfs between realms, Amora hurtled through the Bifrost toward her destination. The jourhrough the Bifrost was brief but intense, a dizzying voyage through the very fabric of the os. Amora passed swirling nebue and distant gaxies in a blur. Just as suddenly as the journey had begun, it ended. Amora emerged from the shimmering portal of the Bifrost, finding herself in the realm of Midgard.

  The transition from Asgard's celestial majesty to Midgard was jarring. Gohe spires of her home. In their pce spread a munda ndscape. Yet Amora had a mission to fulfill, and nothing would stand in her way.

  Upon arriving oh, the Entress wasted no time cealing her presence. She wove an illusion over herself, blurring her form from the eyes of any who would look upon her.

  Amora could have used her sorcerous abilities to scry and locate Thor directly. But there was no he thunder god's ented hammer, Mjolnir, shone like a bea to her mystical senses. She only had to head toward it, knowing that wherever the hammer y, its master would not be far behind.

  As Amora he site, she discovered that the mortals had established a makeshift base surrounding Mjolnir's impact crater. The area buzzed with activity; vehicles and equipment clustered around the mythical hammer that had crashed into their world.

  Realizing she would need a better view of the situation, Amora discreetly pulled out a sg mirror from within her robes. The mirror, a magical artifainor power, provided a window onto distant pces. Holding the gss before her, she whispered an intation.

  The mirror shimmered and shifted, revealing different vantage points of the mortal encampment surrounding Mjolnir. Amora surveyed the guards, the stific equipment, and the overall yout through its are lens. As she tinued her surveilhe mirror paoward a vehicle approag in the distance. Magically zooming in, she saw that Thor himself was inside. Amora sat back, satisfied. She would observe the thunder god's trial and stand ready to intervene should aempt to interfere.

  — Rogue Rept —

  Hours passed in focused silence as Tyson tinued reading, abs the prehensive rules and guidelines g all SHIELD operations. His tration was suddenly broken by the distant rumble of thunder, barely audible at first. Curiously raising his eyes from the text, he goward the small window across the room, noting the darkening sky and sidering the sudden ge iher. After a moment of sidering the approag storm, Tysourned his attention to the manual id out before him.

  Within a minute, however, the calm atmosphere of the evening shifted dramatically. Bring sirens sliced through the air, eg across the SHIELD base. Coulson's urgent, anding voice crackled through Tyson's earpiece. "I need eyes up high, with a gun. Mirage, position yourself he package."

  Tyson smiled knowingly upon hearing the directive, uanding the coded nguage. Quickly closing the manual, Tyson got to his feet. He headed out the door into the corridor, toward the tral clearing.

  Approag the area surrounding Mjolnir, Tyson took in a se of heightened alertness and tension. The guards around the hammer were on edge as they sed the rai darkness for any potential threat. The torrential downpour tinued unabated, redug visibility to a few feet and putting all on edge. Stepping outside, Tyson was immediately drenched by the uing sheets of rain.

  Over the link, Barton's voice rang out, brimming with fidearget in sight. One shot, one kill, sir. Just give the word...or are you sending in muys for him to beat up?"

  Coulson's measured response followed a moment ter, calm and trolled. "I'll let you know," he replied evenly, keeping all options open.

  Suddenly, a figure emerged from the gloom and came into Tyson's view. It was Thor, the legendary Asgardian God of Thuhough he appeared far removed from his usual regal bearing. Thor was soaked to the bone, wearing only a simple blue t-shirt and jeans that g to his muscur frame. His long blond hair stered against his head and neck, rivulets of water dripping down his rugged face.

  Despite his appearahor exuded an undeniable aura of power and fidence. He showed no visible fatigue after fighting his way through the base. Instead, his intense blue eyes reflected a calm trol, as if the forces arrayed against him were but leaves in the wind.

  Thor's initial assessment of Mirage was frainged with amusement. "You're big," he observed, a grin spreading across his rugged features. "But I've fought bigger," he added fidently, challengingly.

  Unfazed, Mirage retorted, "When I win, you'll have to tell me about it." Though rexed, his powerful frame was coiled and ready for battle, his feet shoulder-width apart in a sturdy stance.

  Tyshat, even stripped of his mystical hammer Mjolnir, and his Asgardian powers, Thor remained a formidable fighter not to be uimated. But Tyson had been training rigorously uhe tutege of Colleen Wing for most of the past year, and now he wao test just how far he had progressed in that time. So for this fight, Tyson sciously limited himself to human strength levels, not employing any of his superhuman abilities.

  The stormy skies overhead rumbled ominously as Thor charged towards Mirage.

  Tyson braced himself, expeg the Asgardian warrior to barrel into him with brute, untrolled force. He shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, his body poised to react. However, as Thor closed the distance, his fists ched and raised in a cssic boxer's stance. He threw a swift jab aimed at Tyson's face. Thor's assault was measured and precise. He moved with the timing of a seasoned fighter using a tactical jab meant to test and probe his oppo's defenses.

  Mirage parried the blow with a swift upward block, his forearm defleg Thor's fist harmlessly to the side. The Asgardian followed up with a powerful cross, but Tyson ducked beh the punch. Seizing the opening, he retaliated with a precise knife-hand strike to Thor's ribs, his fingers curled and rigid. The Asgardian gru the impact but quickly tered with a sweeping kick, seeking to knock Mirage off bayson leaped over the kick, his body twisting in midair with the agility of a cat. As he nded, he immediately unched into a spinning back kick, his heel aimed squarely at Thor's chest. The Asgardian barely ma his arms up in a cross-block, abs the blow but stumbling backward from the force.

  As Thor unched into a blistering series of rapid puyson deflected each blow with minimal, effit movements. His arms formed a sweeping defehat allowed him to redirect the Asgardian's strikes away from his body. Thor varied his attacks, mixing punches with kicks, seeking to find any small opening in Mirage's guard. Tyson responded by subtly shifting his stand footwork. He used Thor's momentum against him, redireg the force of each blow and causing the Asgardian to stumble slightly off bance.

  Pressing his advayson moved in with a flurry of strikes, his hands a blur of motioernated between precise finger jabs to Thor's pressure points and open-palmed strikes desigo rattle the Asgardian's sehor bobbed and weaved, keeping his hands up in a tight guard.

  Spotting a gap in Tyson's offehor surged forward with a powerful uppercut, his fist rocketing upwards from his waist. Mirage swayed back at the st sed, the punch grazing his . Using the momentum of his dodge, Tyson spun into a low sweeping kick, his leg scything towards Thor's ankles.

  The Asgardian leaped over the kick, but Tyson had anticipated this. Even as Thor was airborne, Mirage rose, his elb upwards in a devastating strike aimed at the Asgardian's . Thor twisted his head to the side, the blow gng off his cheek.

  The relentless downpour had rehe ground slid hazardous, but both warriors adapted smoothly, never losing focus or footing. Over the s, Barton's amused voice crackled to life. "Well damn, Mirage broke the streak. I was starting to root for this guy too." Though his tone was lighthearted, his words aowledged their impressive hand-to-hand skills.

  Hearing Barton's remark in his earpiece, Mirage responded, "'s over." His bold decration signaled a clear shift in the fight's iy.

  The rain tis relentless downpour, turning the earth into a slid hazardous battlefield. But her warrior slowed their paor lost their footing on the muddy ground. They adapted smoothly, focus unbroken.

  Tyson pressed his attack, transitioning seamlessly from a high, arg roundhouse kick to a rapid barrage of surgical puhor quickly raised his leg to block the kick, then tered the punches with a tight hook.

  Mirage pihe punch between his side and elbow, then swiftly retaliated with a knife-hand chop to the Asgardian's vulnerable neck. His ter was followed instantly by a palm strike to Thor's sternum. The powerful thrust sent Thor staggering back with a ragged gasp, his breath ing in bored wheezes.

  With each evasion and strike, Thor was maneuvered closer to the position Tyson wanted. Mirage was outmaneuvering the fallen god, and Thor now stood exactly where Tyson intended all along.

  Sensing his oppo's exhaustion, Tyson ruthlessly pressed his advantage. He unleashed a devastating series of kicks, using the added weight of his metal boo amplify each blow. Thor's upper body ummeled relentlessly, every impact jarring. Tyson shifted lightly on his feet, then unched into a sidekick. His foot crashed against Thor's chest with the force of a wreg ball, sending the Asgardian tumbling heavily to the muddy earth.

  Thor y stunned for a moment, battered and dazed. Sloainfully he pushed himself up with trembling arms to his hands and knees. He shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs from his addled mind. As his vision came into focus, he stared at Mjolnir, the mighty hammer lying just inches from his outstretched fingers.

  Just as Tyson intended.

  Coulson's anding voice suddenly crackled through the s. "Hold. I want to see this."

  The rain poured down without mercy as Thor slowly pulled himself to his feet, grim determinatioched into his features. His eyes were fixed on Mjolnir, the legendary hammer lying just beyond his grasp.

  Mirage rexed his battle stance. He uood the significe of this moment all too well. He had, after all, coordinated his movements during their fight to orchestrate it, ensuring it happened.

  Thor took a deep breath, his muscur chest heaving with exertion and suppressed emotion. He khat reag for Mjolnir was the ultimate test of his worthiness. Thor was the son of Odin, a seasoned warrior, the hero of Asgard, who had faced tless challenges and emerged victorious. He would not hesitate now, not allow self-doubt or ay. Resolve flooded Thor's chiseled features as he stepped toward his destiny.

  Brag himself, the muscles along his arms corded and bulged as he tensed, veins standing out like ropes under his skin. For the span of a heartbeat, it seemed he might succeed in lifting Mjolnir, pure willpower fueling the attempt.

  The hammer remained anchored firmly in pce.

  Frustration creased Thor's brow as he struggled, his effrowing more desperate. Grunting with exertion, he pulled and strairying vainly to lift Mjolnir. But the ented hammer, under Odin's spell, would not move.

  It reized only the worthy.

  And it found Thor g.

  Finally, after several more futile attempts, Thor's strength gave out. He sank slowly to his knees in the mud, the full weight of his failure pressing down on his broad shoulders.

  He was no lod, he was just a man on his knees, broken aed.

  With his head bowed, the rain hid the tears on his cheeks. Thor was the picture of despair.

  "Ground units, move in. The show's over." Coulson's voice rang out firmly over the s, signaling ao the frontation. SHIELD agents swiftly closed in, surrounding the kneeling Thor. But the fallen god seemed oblivious, lost in his anguish and thoughts of defeat. The rain tio fall steadily, eg the mood of the moment.

  A god, fallen, grappling with losing his power and status.

  AN: For those of you ied in supp my writing.

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