X
Percy felt uncomfortable and out of place. His eyes were darting to and about the airport.
Hundreds of people crowding around. Singular men and women in business attire on phones chatting away, both loudly and quietly. Young and old couples embracing each others hands as they walked along, small bags of luggage rolling alongside them. Families chattering away with each other as they made their way to their respective flights.
He felt his breathing begin to labor. The crowds were strangling him in their number. The noises overwhelming his mind with their volume.
"Now boarding Flight BA0182." A male voice monotonously spoke over the intercom. It snapped him from his stupor of suffocation and allowed him to focus. Objective. Purpose.
Simply something to do and not idle in the flocks of the innocent and naïve.
He stood. The camo seabag loaded for bear. Clothes, mostly. He didn't know how long he would be on this side of the world. He hoped it wouldn't be too long but his hopes were rarely a concern in the eyes of those that sent him here.
Boarding the plane was a dull affair. He wasn't given leave to mist over to the area much to his dismay when he looked in the file. Instead it said that he would be expected to board a plane and fly there like any other mortal. Even if it was on official Olympian business.
Though Percy had an inkling as to why he wasn't allowed to do so. Zeus wanted to make his authority felt for all the times he defied him in the eyes of the Council and the King of Olympus figured that the best way to do it was remind the Son of Poseidon about who was in charge.
He didn't have to share the space with anyone else though which was a relief. Percy figured if Artemis wanted him to treat this quest as a vacation then he was going to do just that, with the ticket affording him the comfort of privacy. Before the plane had even left the tarmac, Percy had drawn the curtain that and his eyes had already closed in a relaxing sleep.
Or at least he had hoped so.
In his…dream…he shouldn't have even graced the vision with such a moniker. It was anything but.
He wore his golden armor. Though the normal steel grey of the Greek Deltas were instead a blood red.
All he could see was sparse and dry vegetation and dusty dirt for as far as his eye could see.
A flash of lightning and everything shifted.
His normally resplendent armor was covered in a layer of grime. Mud, blood, water, and dust coated his golden armor making the metal appear leathery instead of the sheening gold it usually was.
Scorch marks made the armor look pocketed in soot. He slipped the helmet off his head. His wild hair matted in a layer of sweat and blood. The helmet itself was similarly covered in grime. The sharp metal frill atop his helmet was chipped and dented in places as if it was also used as a weapon.
Percy could only assume that the rest of his attire and body mirrored the dirty and battle worn armor.
He looked around himself, finally taking in his surroundings, a sight he would never forget.
Standing amongst a thin layer of golden dust, the previously dry ground now turned to mud with a smattering of pools of both water and blood.
Bodies of fallen and dead mortals littered the field before him. Spears, arrows and swords impaled into them. Chests and skulls caved into pulpy and grotesque messes as he slowly walked among them.
The ones that had a semblance of avoiding having their identities violated were still caked in golden dust, mud and blood.
None of the faces looked familiar. Contorted in all manner of ways. Most horrified. Many others in simple expressions of acceptance of their fates. Few in mid battle cry when they met their end. The rest…were as blank as the grey sky above.
Others upon the air, impaled upon long pikes and spears. The bodies raised, so rotten not even the carrion would dare touch yet still they dripped and rained a crimson ichor upon the ground around them as if the liquid would never empty.
Gnarled and mutilated hands and bodies grasping and adorned in all manner of arms and armor. Spears, swords, axes, daggers, arrows, bows…rifles…bayonets…weaponry he had never seen nor heard of before.
He felt bile rise in his throat.
And retched upon the battlefield. The vomit a sickly dark opaque and looked more black and red than the usual sickly colors.
Still he walked among them. The blood-soaked mud squelched underneath his boots. He made it a point to avoid stepping on any body as he made his solemn trek. Bodies innumerable strewn about the battle-worn fields.
Hours…days…months…years…passed as he continued to simply walk. He didn't know how long but he did know he was being watched for it all. He knew not what nor who.
Lifeless fields of black mud and ash that stretched for eternity.
The fields of mud slowly devolved into fields of ash. Charred bones and corpses buried in hills of gold and silver dust arrayed before him.
He fell to his knees at the sight, unable to endure anymore of the tormented pilgrimage his mind was forcing him to make.
If he could just wake up…
Percy smacked himself.
Hard.
Hard enough to cause his head to snap to the side. His cheek stung. But he did not wake. He clawed at the ground, grabbing handfuls of ash and throwing the mounds at his face.
He did not wake.
He checked his side. A knife was sheathed. He quickly drew it, flipped it around and angled the knife into his sternum. Percy almost dropped the knife when he looked down.
A head of blonde hair and stormy grey eyes flashed in the metal of the blade.
It wasn't just any knife…it was Annabeth's.
The perfect bronze metal glinted against the sparse sunlight that was able to pierce the storm clouds that were eternally present.
"What will you do, destroyer?" An ethereal voice spoke. It was melodic and silk but held an undercurrent of power roiling underneath its question. The voice caused the very ground beneath him to quake and the hills of ash and glittering dust to cascade further into the ground.
"What is this? Where am I?" The words were hoarse. Parched and dry as if the inside of his throat was caked in a layer of dirt.
"A monument… to your sins." The voice coalesced all around him and he whipped as much as his sore body would allow.
"I would never do this…I could never do this…" Percy's own voice broke, betraying him. Even in his own mindscape…a tiny voice in his head that sounded so similar to his own spoke to him…telling him he could do this...that he wants to do this.
"Perhaps." The voice whipped around and seemed to crash into a mound of ash and dust, causing it to explode and rain across the entire field. Swirling in the epicenter of the explosion were tendrils of that very ash and dust, forming a figure.
The woman was thin and frail. Deathly so. Gaunt cheeks and high cheekbones made her seem more skeletal than a living thing. Pupilless eyes of void black that seemed to suck in the light around her while a shawl of black wrapped around her neck and a veil obscured most everything else. Her lips however were a blood red, a stark contrast to her otherwise pale complexion.
She wore something he would expect a woman would adorn to a funeral of their loved ones.
He stayed on his knees.
"Who are you?"
The red lips quirked into a predatory smile but did not answer. "I have a task for you, destroyer."
He immediately wanted to deny her. To throw her into the wind and strike her down as he did Gaea, as he did to the Gigantes and the many immortals before them.
But whoever… whatever this is powerful. He had been wandering this dreamscape for…eternity. He didn't know exactly nor even perceptively how long he was here and aware of it. If this being could do that...
"What do you want, that you can't do yourself?" He stood slowly, stumbling into the ash as he picked himself up. His armor, typically a forgotten weight, now weighed as if the sky itself was attached to his person.
He would know exactly what that felt like.
"I want what you do best. To destroy."
There was a pause as Percy and the being stared at each other. Percy decided that he wasn't going to be preyed upon by this being. If they wanted something they better say something. He wasn't going to be playing twenty questions with them.
The predatory smile only grew. "You see…Destroyer. You have a unique…quality about you that I simply cannot ignore. If I didn't know any better, I would assume you would have been vying for my attention." Her thin long arms and bony fingers gestured all around them.
The scene remained but the ash that coated the field receded further into the ground, giving way to the mounds of corpses underneath.
Percy still said nothing and simply stared at the being. He felt the bile begin to rise up again but did his best to maintain his concentration on whoever this was rather than take in this new environment in further detail.
If he wasn't he probably would've missed her smile twitch, breaking her otherwise joyous exterior.
She hoped for violent reaction.
"Apollyon." She spoke this time with a harshness that demanded all attention. Percy couldn't resist the urge to flinch at the title. The way the being said it. That alluring and melodic voice cracking like a whip made the name a poison to his ears and his mind. "You may deny it as many times as you wish. However, make no mistake. Your fate is that of destruction."
"I'm not bound any longer." Percy retorted with a scoff. He took a step and crushed a brittle skull into dust and fragments. He looked around again, no longer able to keep his gaze centered on the being.
Skeletons and bones made the ground they stood upon. He inhaled suddenly, his breath caught on the scene of terror about him.
His harsh exterior crumbling as if it were the mound of ash and dust so recently disturbed.
"Everyone is bound by fate, Apollyon." He flinched again. Something about the way she said it…made his blood boil only for it to cool rapidly after the name left her mouth. "Those three women are simply incapable of containing you. A force of nature cannot be contained."
"They told me as much." There was another pause. Percy's voice dripping like acid from his chapped lips. "What do you want from me?"
In a swirl of ash and dust, the being appeared before him. She was no longer sporting a look that made her a walking corpse and that black veil had disappeared to reveal a face of perfection. Her features slightly less gaunt, though more regal and angular in their fashion rather than unhealthy.
"Apollyon." At that, his blood boiled but this time it did not cool. Her voice when she said the hated name turned from its harshness and became one of passion, affection and devotion.
Her voice went quieter, afterwards, a serene and melodic whisper something that stung his mind at the familiarity. "I only ask you to be you. I ask you to be the Swift… the Terrible…and the Absolute Sword that you are meant to be."
And before he could react, the being's hands clasped on his cheeks and kissed him.
Percy's eyes shot open.
Thor felt a chill run down his spine. One that was familiar but alien to him. Try as he might, he was unable to shake the feeling that something…happened. He couldn't determine if it was bad or good. If it was due to the fires of war spread throughout the realms. Only that it happened and it seemed that it was impending…inevitable.
It was sudden for sure and made the hairs on his body stand on their roots.
The chill stung. It bit at his bones. He could feel it in the air and even see it as he breathed.
One moment it was warm and delightful and the next it was cold and unforgiving.
It made him pause in his drink.
And it seemed to also affect everyone there, as the festivities and celebrations of bringing the realms back under order was suddenly halted and frightened and uneasy looks were shared and sent every which way.
Thor and Sif shared a look as she seemed even more unsettled than he. They both involuntarily shivered at the sudden cold air. It was colder than Jotunheim and twice as ominous.
Thor looked toward where his father was watching from a balcony above. Where his gaze was focused on a far distance. The King of Asgard raised his arms. "Eat and drink! The night is yours!" If Thor hadn't been looking for it, he saw the Allfather give his head a near imperceptive shake.
There was a cheer as the merriment returned though dimmer in its glamour and spectacle than the ones prior. Few left, wrapping their cloaks from the biting cold that had ravaged them just moments previous. Many others bundled by the small hearth fires that were crackling and sparking in the ever present flames.
Thor watched around as even the boisterous Warriors Three were subdued in their otherwise usual exploits of gluttony and lust and words of embellishment. The need to investigate this was not lost on the God of Thunder nor the woman beside him, though his actions needed to be deliberate and calculated.
Something this…powerful…would need care when being dealt with. Not with the brashness and strength that he was famous for.
The Son of Odin watched his father retreat from the balcony and into the palace. Thor would've followed to question him on what it was but didn't seem to find the heart to do so. His comments on Jane left him bitter and hollow right now and the biting cold only exacerbated the words of apathy his King had spoken to him.
"Go." Sif said. The eyes of longing went unnoticed by the God of Thunder as she looked away from him and back into the stars, the cloak around her did little to protect her from the numbing cold. It felt as though they were on Jotun.
And Thor went but not before watching the retreating form of the Sword of Asgard fade back into the palace. After which he did take his leave, though not to the Allfather, instead across the crystal bridge that seemed dimmer than before. The usual radiant moon and starlight hues that gave the bridge its iridescent glow and shimmer seemed to be sapped of its own strength and made the crystal seem more like ice than the enchanted stone it was.
The earlier chill was disturbing him and the state of the bridge only heightened his nerves. Not even the powerful magics infused within the very road of Yggdrasil was unaffected by whatever had occurred.
And the last time he had seen the road in this state was when the Bifrost was destroyed.
He entered the Bifrost chamber. Its golden dome glinting off the torchlights that emanated from the black iron sconces emplaced across the hall.
Heimdall stood resolute as he always did. Though despite Thor's usual inept perception, the Thunder God knew that the vigilant gatekeeper was more alert than his typical calm and relaxed form.
That chill seemed to have a more pronounced effect on the guardian than that of everyone else in Asgard.
"Do you…sense anything?" Thor made his presence known, though Heimdall would've already noticed his traveling to him if not his arrival.
Not much could escape the eyes of the veteran and wizened sentry.
The response was immediate. "I sense a great many things, my prince. You will have to be more specific."
Thor smiled slightly. Even in a state of heightened vigilance, Heimdall would not be deterred in making things as difficult as possible for him. "What of that…chill?"
"It eludes me. It is something that I have not felt in many an eon." Heimdall responded as he broke his gaze with the son of Odin and returned his gaze to the cosmos before them.
Thor frowned and found himself shifting ever so slightly. Ancient powers were always a threat. First the Jotun and now whatever this was.
As if sensing his fears, the vigilant sentry spoke once more. "There is no need to fear. At the very least not at the moment. It could merely be the Convergence. The eve of this occurrence always proved to make for some rather anomalous, if not interesting activity."
Thor scoured his mind of the event. "The Convergence? The alignment of the Realms. It is to be upon us soon?"
"It has not happened since before my watch began." Heimdall conceded with a slight tilt of his head. "It is like a ghost. It comes and goes, few can sense its approach and fewer still will be able to gaze upon it." There was a a pause as they both looked at the cosmos before them.
It never ceased to amaze Thor. The expanse of the void filled with the flickering of pale starlight. Nebulae in all their fluid colors and worlds beyond number teeming with life.
They stood for a moment simply admiring the array before them. A common and welcome occurrence when speaking with the Sentry of Asgard.
"Yet still dangerous, unforgiving." Thor turned towards his long-time friend. He had never seen the watchman be so serene and relaxed as he gazed up on the universe. "It is truly beautiful."
They stood in silence for a moment more. Thor did not see what he spoke of and he envied the keen sight of Heimdall for but a moment. The guardian may have been privy to the wonders of Yggdrasil but even he was still forced to gaze upon its harshness, being the watcher of the stars.
Perhaps moreso than many other
Power and responsibility came at a steep price.
Artemis found herself before the Council.
It was short a few members. Poseidon for the past year had been predisposed with rooting something under the vast oceans and seas. The Sea God had yet to reveal what exactly was plaguing his realm.
Artemis doubted that they would receive one when he returned. Even if pressed by the Council in its entirety. Her uncle was as mysterious and secretive as the oceans that held his power.
Ares and Hades absent with their reasons being undisclosed. Though it was a normal occurrence for the God of the Underworld and the God of War, it still gave pause to the more recurring Olympians. Even if their attendance was unrequired, as matters rarely pertained to their realms of power, they still avoided the Halls of Olympus, treating politics as if it was anathema to their being.
And in a way it was. There was a simplicity found in War and Death. Politics was never such and that proved double for the World of Immortals and all that entailed.
Though the only curious one that drew more attention than the other three was that of Athena. The Wisdom Goddess was the one that typically was the first to arrive to these meetings and the last to leave and would never miss them no matter how trivial the matters discussed seemed to be.
And so the Council convened with four of their number missing. Even the galleries seemed to be populated with their attendants, save for a few such as Bellona and Hecate.
Their votes hopefully unneeded for whatever was to transpire this day.
The remaining Olympians sat regally on their thrones as Zeus called the session into order.
And so the session began. Mundane subjects were presented and discussed and voted upon. Scheduling for divine presence in and around Olympus mostly for the next four months.
Contrary to popular belief, the Olympians were rarely present in the Immortal City. Their realms of power and natures required significant attention and was not to be taken lightly.
Even Dionysus, did not take his responsibilities with a grain of salt which was saying much for the usual lackadaisical demigod turned Olympian.
Soon matters devolved into more significant situations. Questions abounded of Poseidon's constant absence. Though those were left unanswered due to the fact that the subject was…absent to answer.
Then came the situation eastward. Eurasia specifically. Nature spirits seemingly dying in droves in Eastern Europe. Small monster warbands being spotted in Germany. Despite the protections and wards placed upon the original Mount Olympus, the nature spirits in the surrounding lands were being forced in battle once again to deter the creatures that would take advantage and desecrate the remains of the war that took place in its shadow.
She quickly volunteered her Hunt to root them out and investigate the matters.
Soon the conversation turned towards the Norse artefact in England and attention fell upon her.
As she was the one to deliver the mission to Perseus, it seemed that she was to take charge of this particular quest.
"Artemis." Zeus boomed. His pinstripe suit immaculate even after the fact that the Olympians had been at council for a little over twenty mortal hours. A mere sand grain of time that none in the grand Hall cared for.
Artemis shifted in her seat before standing and clearing her throat. The lump that had been forming forced downwards. "Perseus is on his way towards England at this moment."
"Good." The King of Gods stroked his neatly trimmed beard.
Artemis continued standing though said nothing as she stared at her father with her eyes of silver moonlight. "Father, I suggest you cease ordering the Son of Poseidon on these missions and leave him in peace."
One could hear a pin drop as all attention focused on the Moon Goddess. The normally wild and uncaring immortal had adorned a serious look. One that brooked no argument one that was better served upon her Roman aspect than it did on her Greek one. It was enough to cow any mortal and most other deities.
Though not nearly enough to even begin to intimidate the Olympian King.
"You presume to order me?" Zeus growled. Thunder rumbled around them and lightning crackled across the God's throne. It flickered and danced across the armrests, imitating the bolts of energy that her father was so fond of calling upon.
Artemis still stood and was about to reply when Apollo stood and after him, Hestia, Hermes, Hephaestus and Hera. The others more enthralled with watching the spectacle rather than participate.
"Father, you push the demigod to his brink." Artemis spoke. If she had been looking to her brother and aunt, she would've seen the worry that marred their eyes. "I fear what may happen if he should fall."
"He will not die." Zeus retorted as he too, stood. "The Fates won't allow it, that much is certain. Perseus is as much as their tool as he is ours."
"He is not a tool to be wielded like a hammer and pick!" Hestia spoke. Her demure expression turned to one of fire and rage upon her younger brother's declaration. "Perseus is still a Son of Poseidon. He still has family. He is still mortal!"
"Father, I have seen it myself. He isolates himself against the beaches for days and nights on end, wasting away his days because he knows to not be comfortable in his temporary peaceful situation." Hermes spoke with Hephaestus grunting and nodding in agreement.
Questioning glances from many throughout the Throne Hall were directed towards the Messenger God. None had sensed his presence near the Son of Poseidon and own senses didn't prove any magical attempts of observation by the Messenger God.
And like a ball of solid Stygian Iron, Hera continued, unrelenting upon her husband's irate state. "It is not a matter of if he should fall but when. It is not a matter of mortality but one of loyalty." Given the way she said her words it was clear that this was not the first time that she had, had this conversation with her husband.
"Enough!" Zeus barked. His word cutting through the onslaught of words like a crack of thunder. "If you believe he is prone to betrayal then let us end this before it festers in his mind like it has yours!" He grabbed his Master Bolt, the normally, blue rod of energy crackling to life as its master willed it into a more powerful state.
Other weapons of power were drawn. The twins their bows of sun and moon and Hephaestus a mighty and large hammer of war. Hera and Hestia, given their more peaceful natures, instead took steps backwards in both alarm and anger against their King.
"You dare!?" Zeus pointed the Master Bolt at his children.
A pound broke the standoff. Like a large gong had been beaten upon. All attention turned towards the source as a loud voice boomed. "Stand down, brother." The words were not shouted nor held the bite of anger or passion that the others were soaked in. Only weariness and softness that was never seen upon the God of the Seas and Oceans.
Artemis turned her gaze towards her uncle. A disheveled appearance, his normally wind swept hair matted in saltwater and seaweed. His armor dented and scratched and his skin lacking its usual healthier tan and instead was considerably paler.
His eyes though were a vibrant and pulsating sea green. Raw power and strength emanated from the Lord of Atlantis and his trident thrumming with power, vestiges of green misty aura snaking around his weapon of power.
Beside and behind him were the other absent Olympians. Ares and Athena looked as equally and worn from battle as their uncle. Hades also sported a battle weary posture as did Bellona but looked better compared to the other three.
Though the Master Bolt was still pointed at his children, Zeus looked to his brother. "What happened to you?"
"Oceanus happened." Ares spat out a globule of ichor onto the pristine marble floor.
That elicited a gasp from Aphrodite and chokes of spittle from Dionysus and Hermes. Demeter's mouth hung open in a startled expression.
"The Titans dare rise against us so soon after their failure?" Demeter snapped herself from her stupor.
"Only Oceanus." Poseidon spoke as he and the others walked in, to their thrones. The six still standing with their weapons drawn and pointed. "It is done. He is now in Tartarus. I will speak of it no more." His attention turned to the standoff between children and father.
"Now what's this of my son, twice Hero of Olympus, being named traitor?" His eyes brimmed with righteous anger though his tone never rising above that of a normal volume.
"They fear that should Perseus continue to aid us, that he will break." Zeus spoke his Master Bolt gesturing to the three.
A twist and corruption of their spoken words, said with the implication of betrayal. Artemis knew her father spoke the truth.
That did not mean the Moon Goddess had to like it.
"Leave him." Hades spoke suddenly but slouching in his obsidian throne before taking off his Helm and setting it on a pedestal at his side. "But give him course. You have two camps full of heroes to call upon brother. Overreliance on one will cause many others to falter and become weak."
"So you would allow the possibility of treason to exist?!" Zeus growled his beard now sporting arcs of lightning as his agitation grew.
Hades said nothing, merely leveling a withered glare at his younger brother.
Instead, Poseidon intervened his own voice becoming a storm. "You would call the Hero of Olympus a traitor? My son, who has done naught but sacrifice for us?"
"He could have been an Olympian!" Zeus seethed. "He could have had the riches of Olympus and the mortal world at his fingertips. It is not my fault he did not want to be rewarded the way a hero should be!"
"A hero such as he, only wants for one thing." Ares spoke softly. By the Fates, was Artemis witnessing a soft-spoken war god that was famed for never whispering? "And that is peace." There was a pause where they all mulled and gawked at the murmuring God of War.
Athena spoke now, a weariness and bitterness in her words. "Give direction but order him no longer. It is time for other heroes to take up the mantle of responsibility. He is hunting threats outside and unfamiliar with our world? Yes?" There was a collection of nods. "Direct him to work in concert with those mortals that believe them to be his equal as he did all those months ago."
Athena had slumped in her throne. Utterly spent of energy, her eyelids struggling to remain open.
Ares nodded though it was Hades that spoke. "It would allow us to keep an eye on those Asgardians who have been trespassing as of late and will no doubt continue to do so."
By this time Zeus and his children had withdrawn their weapons. Artemis noted that those previously present but not involved in the standoff, still cast worried glances to Zeus and those who had leveled their weapons at the King of Gods.
The Moon Goddess sighed a breath of relief. That had escalated rather quickly. Quicker than he had expected. Still conversation continued. Arguments were had and it was eventually put to a vote. Thirteen in favor for having Perseus work with the mortals and Asgardians, instead of burnt to cinder and left to rot.
His pride would not allow him to concede defeat, so the King of the Olympians did the next best thing and didn't vote at all.
Artemis volunteered herself to inform Perseus of his new duties. Though was reminded of her duties of the Hunt and the Moon by Aphrodite.
She cast a withering glare to the Love Goddess.
Who then volunteered herself as if it was the most inconvenient thing she could possibly do but embellished too much on her graciousness that spoke of ulterior motives. Most everyone denied the pouting Love Goddess.
Those that didn't simply ignored her.
Poseidon had wanted though needed to return to opening Atlantis once again and to begin healing his realm. The burden of leadership. Artemis through the minimal details offered in the waning conversation of the Council, had gleamed that a tireless war had been fought.
Fighting under the sprawling oceans would continue to prove to be a vicious and merciless battlefield.
The others neglected to volunteer their services. Hephaestus claiming a project needed his undivided attention and that the Council had already taken too much of his patience to deal with being a messenger.
Hermes seemed to be the logical decision though and made to raise his hand though a withering glare sent from Hestia and herself faltered his movement.
She reasoned that the Hearth Goddess didn't take to kindly to his spying of the Son of Poseidon.
And neither did she.
And thus Hestia had then volunteered for delivering the Olympian decree.
Artemis didn't question her reasoning. The hearth burned brighter than ever and though the eldest of Kronos did not have much in the way of physical realms to keep in check, she admitted that there was little to do other than care for the eternal flames in Olympus.
It went unsaid that it would be wise for one of the few Olympians that Perseus still respected be the one to speak with him.
None needed Zeus to blow another fuse.
It seemed that the Council was about to adjourn as they began to stand.
A flash appeared before the Council and Artemis recognized her to be the Mist Goddess. "Perseus has disappeared!" She shouted and announced.
The room was quiet for a moment.
Jane Foster found herself at the warehouses where she, Darcy and the newly met intern, Ian and tracked the anomaly.
It was a miracle they didn't get pulled over on the way over here.
And as she stepped from the vehicle whilst shaking her head of the crazed driving of her intern. It wasn't until she had finished correcting her head from the whiplash inducing driving did, she realize something.
Shipping containers that weighed tons were stacked as if someone had been playing Legos or Jenga with them. A cement truck had even tipped on its side, both it and the asphalt underneath were seemingly undamaged at the unusual position.
She turned her attention away from that as they continued to walk. They wrapped themselves further in their jackets.
The air had a certain chill to it. While England and specifically London experienced usually damp and humid weather, the occasional dry but cold night was not uncommon.
But during the summer months it was.
It shouldn't have been cold enough where there seemed to be a slight snowfall from the looming gray storm clouds.
The asphalt already had a thin layer of the white blanket coating it.
They followed the direction in which a group of small footsteps were heading. Further into the compound and into one of the large warehouse buildings that surrounded them.
The trio followed the footsteps but Jane was glued to the phasemeter in her palm. These readings…they weren't unlike the ones in New Mexico.
Though it was and it was off putting to say the least. Her hope and paranoia clashed with her more logical side. With what was going on, it pointed to something big going to happen. The gravitational anomalies that was surveyed on her equipment certainly pointed to it. Though she didn't know how it could correlate with the weather.
Maybe the atmospheric conditions were changing to accommodate the anomalies?
Maybe it could be just a fluke and a coincidence that the weather only changed when she first step foot inside the cramped vehicle?
Being an astrophysicist and a damn good one, made it almost a nigh impossibility that she ever got a huge break that wasn't intended but it did happen. She like to keep her options open and thus allowed her to give an open mind about the possibility that coincidences do happen.
Still Jane hoped for Thor to return. If only for closure and peace of mind. Her heart clenched at the thought of loneliness.
Ian shouted in alarm as he was looking upwards. A chunk of granite falling from the spiraling stairwell before it suddenly disappeared.
The kids up there laughed and giggled loudly.
Jane had missed most of the conversation between the kids and Darcy but the tidbits she did catch showed that her intern had at the very least picked up on her investigative skills when she questioned them on how they found this.
The astrophysicist was too focused on studying the phenomenon rather than question kids that didn't know what they were dealing with.
Maybe it was too early to get her hopes up when nothing of note happened after dropping a couple of glass beer bottles down what seemed to be a wormhole or a gateway…or something.
She wasn't entirely confident in herself in trusting this one to anyone else without more research.
She would need her equipment. She needed help. Darcey meant well but Jane needed someone that lived for this kind of thing.
Jane tried to call Erik to no avail.
Something nagged at the back of her mind that she should know what was up with him but for the life of her she couldn't seem to remember what it was. Maybe SHIELD had him tied up with something that was too important to simply answer a phone call.
Jane heard from her position in the warehouse as the group of interns and kinds humored each other by through junk through the stairway wormhole.
She shrugged it off and felt something tug her navel at her and she looked down a darkened almost pitch black hallway. She tilted her head in curiosity. No light penetrated the darkness as it seemed to simply stop at the threshold of the entryway.
Another wormhole perhaps? Was her first thought and she picked up a nearby piece of concrete rock and tossed it awkwardly in that direction. She may have played a little softball but it had been years since she last threw something that heavy.
It landed short and skipped a little bit before stopping.
Feeling a little braver and embarrassed, she slowly walked forward while crouching to pick up the rock again.
Just as she was about to touch the piece of loose concrete a gush of air swept her on her feet and pulled her into the darkness.
"Victory belongs to the most persevering."
-Napoleon Bonaparte