Stormborn

Her hair was the color of dark mahogany, turned coppery and golden by the setting sun. She carried the scent of carnations in bloom and old leather books. Her lips were full and always in the color of deep roses, easy to pull back into an easy smile. And her eyes. Her eyes were pools of deep brown, the color of melted chocolate, rich and vibrant, glinting mischievously. Eyes shining with joy and affection.

Mary

“Thor.”

At the beckon, Thor was taken from his memory. And then he remembered where he was. Midgard. The transport known as the Helicarrier. And in a room full of dangerous warriors discussing the still missing Tesseract. And all of them nothing compared to the danger posed by his brother Loki, who sat amongst them as he played whatever game he had in store.

“What’s his play?”

He turned from the scurrying of the agents below and to the mortal captain, face neutral but a mask for the worry and confusion Thor could just imagine was beneath. For that was within him as well.

“He has an army called the Chitauri. They’re not of Asgard or any world known.” He answered grimly. “He means to lead them against your people. They will win him the Earth. In return, I suspect, for the Tesseract.”

Their faces turned somber at the news, and Thor felt a hot lance of shame within him as he thought of how all of this could have been avoided. If he had only known. If he had only listened and opened his eyes. If he had simply unchained himself of his juvenile beliefs, then maybe this madness would not have persisted. And all of these were nothing but bitter truths revealed when all was already lost. Regret was a cruel mistress, not one to forget or forgive, and it caged his heart with cold iron bars. But now was neither the time nor place. For now, he must let go. Loki was on a path of destruction, and the Midgardians were paying for it. And it would be the last time Thor would let innocent blood pay for his failures.

Yet a traitorous voice whispered beneath his consciousness. No, it said, no it shall not be the last. It cradled him with poisonous thoughts, even as he focused on the group striving to learn Loki’s schemes, with thorny vines that prickled his conscience.

You know it won’t stop. There will be recompense for your failures. There always has.

He listened to them discuss, or rather squabble, and silenced his thoughts as much as he can. Yet he could not stop his mind from wandering back to old memories. Of large fields of grass, high pitched laughter in the air. The burn of scrapes from playing, and the cool cloth of healing ointments. The sound of a child’s voice, singing with a joyful lilt. Of eyes shining with an innocent mischief, then a dark humor. Lips pulled in a playful smirk, only now turned cruel and acerbic. Alabaster skin that turned the deep shade of blue, screaming at him with broken lies and unearthed truths.

And then, an older memory, dark hair. The color of mahogany and oak and pine and of every kind of bark. Hair turned golden and coppery in the setting sun. The smell of carnations and leather books aged with time. Lips the color of roses. The color of blood. Pulled back to an easy smile, then a vicious grin, and then fury. Eyes the color of melted chocolate, of burning forests, of a darker torture. Of love. Of pain. Of endless beauty and sorrow.

It will never stop.

The headquarters of Oscorp Industries shined like a bright beacon among the gray of New York City. A tower made of the finest steel, concrete, and glass, Oscorp Tower stood as an 850-foot symbol of the peak of modern architecture. But it’s true treasure lied inside, hidden underneath the floors of offices and meters of pavement. The technological excellence of the Oscorp Industries laboratories was something only the best and brightest got to witness. Those with the most shining resumes, well curated college backgrounds, and had the recommendations of only the best scientists got in. Being part of the research staff was like being in an exclusive party. The only other company that managed to outdo Oscorp was Stark Industries itself.

Peter still can’t believe he was going to see it for himself. The ID badge felt like a medal of honor on his neck, sitting comfortably right next to his father’s necklace. He stroked the badge tenderly, still stuck in a state of disbelief. He probably had a stupid expression on his face, probably made worse by the big round glasses that made him look bug-eyed, as the rest of the students entered the tall halls of Oscorp Tower. The 10-year-old was practically vibrating on the spot as they were checked through a high tech security gate and asked to swipe their badges, Peter practically running as he finally entered the secure part of Oscorp Tower, far from prying eyes. Mr. Harrington was already inside, along with the designated tour guide, as the rest of the students trickled in.

Peter stood to the side, away from the crowd, and checked his surroundings, absentmindedly playing with his metal pendant and the ID badge. They were in a hallway a few floors above the main lobby, far from the usual exhibits of colorful holographs and activity centers for guests, frosted glass on all sides. The tour guide was leading them to a set of elevators separate from the other parts of the tower, built exclusively for the laboratories. Which was another thing that just blew Peter’s mind. Because most high schools never get a chance to even see the labs, let alone actually go inside them. Usually Oscorp just had them view the exhibits and displays in the mini museum in the tower. But apparently there were policy changes and now the company was opening its labs to a select group of students, allowing them a chance to see the greatest minds in biomedical and chemical engineering, to name a few, at work. And Peter’s class, specifically those with the highest grades in the entire school, was one of those lucky enough to be picked.

‘By Dr. Curtis Connors no less!’ Peter thought silently as they were lead to the large elevators, distractedly fixing the glasses that slid down his face. As they waited for the elevators to arrive, his mind started running at the possible things that they could play with. There was the new electron microscope that could take pictures of actual atoms. Maybe they’d get to see the new petri dish grown meat that Oscorp developed? And there was the rumors of Oscorp finally figuring out how to farm spider silk for biocable use! But since they were selected by Dr. Connors, would they get to see him instead? That’s gonna be so cool!

There was a ding and 9 excited teens, 1 very excited little kid, a disgruntled high school teacher, and an exasperated tour guide all filed in to the elevator. There was a lot of shuffling, some of them accidentally (or maybe not accidentally) elbowing each other in the frankly spacious elevator. Peter somehow ended up in the front, which was fine for him since he would get to see the lab first, although somehow someone managed to smudge their fingers on his glasses again. He was already impatiently tapping his fingers on the metal pendant of his necklace, so ready and excited to just see it already. And he knew that he wasn’t the only one. He could hear the older kids murmuring behind him excitedly.

“You think they’re gonna let us touch the machines?” That was Seymour O’Reilly. Looking back, he saw O’Reilly talking with Charles Murphy, Sally Avril, and Jason Ionello. He quickly turned his head and tried to do his best to be inconspicuous (thank you diminutive height). Bad things tend to happen to him if he caught their attention.

“Maybe? I mean we are gonna see it in the real,” replied Murphy.

“Like any one would let you touch anything after the incident with Miss Warren.” Was Avril’s snarky reply.

Peter could hear Murphy’s shout of indignation before Ionello spoke up.

“Well that’s nothing compared to what Peter did in Mr. Cobwell’s class. Talk about clutz of the century.”

Peter felt his face burn with shame at the memory. And it got even worse when he heard the other teens snigger behind him. He tucked his shoulders in and looked down, an obvious attempt to hide but he couldn’t help it. They kept on talking behind him, more excited chatter about the lab and even more sniggers that wasn’t doing anything for his dignity. He tried not to let his excitement dim at their comments. He grabbed for his necklace underneath his shirt, the cool metal bent into the familiar shape grounding him and providing him comfort.

“Unfortunately, all of the laboratory equipment are off-limits from non-laboratory personnel,” said the tour guide, his calm voice cutting through the noisy babble of the older kids. A chorus of disappointed noises came from all students. The tour guide said nothing, keeping up his calm neutral façade, although Peter thought he saw his mouth twitch. How long has this guy been giving tours for that kind of poker face? Must have been a lot.

He heard a sigh from his right and saw Mr. Harrington looking just a few steps shy from falling asleep. Being teacher must be really tiring.

“Kids please relax. We’re going to see very advanced laboratories filled with very expensive equipment. We are not at a theme park.”

The older students, of course, ignored him, like any student would do when they’re gonna get the chance to see the equivalent of Mecca for scientists. Sure they were the smartest kids in Midtown High, but putting them in a room filled with shiny metal equipment that could batch clone metric tons of biofuel in less than a few minutes? Now that’s Candyland.

There was another ding and the elevator doors opened to another empty hallway. Further down, the hallway opened up to two different pathways to the sides. The tour guide stepped fluidly from the elevator and lead their group straight towards the path in the middle. Peter looked around, trying to see if he could catch a peek inside the rooms. Of course, frosted glass made that difficult, but he could still see the variety of shadows and colorful figures through the glass.

“We are now at the Research and Development floor of Oscorp Tower.” The tour guide kept walking with a slow yet steady pace as the rest of Peter’s group followed. The way they walked in a straight line reminded him of ducklings and he had to stifle a giggle at the thought.

“Specifically, the Biomedical Research Division that is currently being spearheaded by Dr. Curtis Connors himself.” The tour guide kept on talking as he walked to a big set of chrome doors at the end of the hall. He stopped just in front of the doors and signaled for the group to stop as well. “You’re about to get a look into the inner workings of how the brightest researchers in the field of medicine and biotechnology are working together to create the world of tomorrow.” He said this with both hands now clasped in front of him and a smile on his face. He turned to the door and to a console in the side that Peter hadn’t noticed before, sliding a key card and typing in a code before turning back to them and Peter could swear that there was even an excited glint in the tour guide’s eyes too. The dramatic way he said it was beginning to pump up the all of them and Peter could feel himself bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Students and faculty of Midtown School of Science and Technology, welcome to the future.” With a flourish, he opened the doors. Peter felt his jaw fall open at the sight before him. He heard a whispered “Oh my God” besides him and he only nodded in agreement.

The doors opened into a large room filled with researchers in lab coats moving around. There multiple lab tables covered with an assortment of machines and glassware filled with chemicals. He noticed the giant centrifuges in one corner, different machines designated for PCR, DNA ligase reactions, and even one for CRISPR gene editing, a gigantic machine in the far end of the room separated by a wall of glass (wait is that the Pym Quantum Microscope?!), and so much more that Peter was swiveling his head left and right, trying his best to grasp the everything around him.

There were murmured woahs and wows around him and Peter was nodding his head with them in agreement. Because woah. And wow. And just oh my God. He was here. He was literally here. Peter couldn’t stop smiling and turning every which way. He could hear Mr. Harrington ask for their attention, except it was like from far away because Peter’s brain was on cloud nine and everything felt unimportant to the pervading sense of holy crap this is real!

There was a rush as the other kids started asking questions at the tour guide, Mr. Harrington’s attempt to calm them down lost to the eager chatter of the students along with Peter who was left in the back.

“Can we use the cloning set up?” asked Avril.

“No you can’t-” answered the tour guide, but was quickly cut off by O’Reilly.

“Where do they make enzyme therapy system? Like the one currently in use in John Hopkin’s?”

“That’s kind of not something I can answer-”

“What’s the requirement to be researcher for Oscorp?” asked Ionello

“Well there’s a steep requirement with your college grades, experience and-”

“Have they tried recreating the super soldier serum that made Captain America?” Murphy asked

“A-actually all attempts to recreate the serum are ille-”

“Are we allowed to use the holographic enzyme interaction simulator?”

And then there more and more questions going at rapid fire that the poor tour guide was left looking wide eyed at the excited group of high schoolers that were asking very intelligent questions that looked like it was above his payroll. Peter still deciding if he should still ask the tour guide (hey he wanted to ask his own questions) but the poor guy looked ready to run away, when a smooth baritone spoke up above the clamor, cutting off one kid’s of have you guys ever designed babies here? just as he stepped from a door that Peter didn’t notice was open.

“I see you have everything under control Mr. Dillon?” The man who spoke sounded like he was trying to hold back his laugh. The tour guide (who was apparently named Dillon and maybe Peter forgot because he was in the Oscorp labs) gave out a relieved sigh.

“Dr. Connors! Perfect timing sir.”

And that had Peter freezing in shock and quickly pushing his way to the front because Oh my God that’s Dr. Curtis Connors himself! and everyone else started pushing forward, with Peter once again lost in the group. The tall brunet stepped smoothly towards the group, the missing arm already a dead giveaway to his identity. He gave them a friendly smile, somehow completely ignoring the 10 high school students that were openly gawking at him. Dillon the tour guide extricated himself from their group and hurriedly went to Dr. Connors side.

“It seems I might have broken them.” That had Peter suddenly awaken from his trance of oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god and joined in at the ripple of laughter at Dr. Connor’s joke.

“Not really sir. I think they’re just a little star struck.” Now that Peter would agree.

“Well let’s get this show on the road,” said Dr. Connors with that friendly smile. “Good morning, students of Midtown School of Science and Technology. My name is Dr. Curtis Connors.”

There was a chorus of excited “good morning Dr. Connors” from the group that had Dr. Connors chuckling.

“I am a scientist and the world’s foremost authority on herpetology and am currently the head of the experimental biomedical arm of Oscorp’s R&D division.” He took a small pause, for dramatic effect Peter thought, and gave them a playful grin.

“And for those of you who are wondering, I am a southpaw.”

There was laughter throughout the group, even Mr. Harrington cracked a smile.

“Do not think of me as a cripple though,” he continued, “because I am not helpless. I am after all a scientist. And scientists are warriors. Explorers seeking new knowledge, and the secrets of the universe.”

‘This guy knows how to give a monologue’ Peter whispered in the back of mind that wasn’t busy with fanboying over Dr. Connors.

“But like the Parkinson’s patient who watches on in horror as her body slowly betrays her, or the man with macular degeneration, whose eyes grow dimmer each day, I long to fix myself.” There was another dramatic pause. “I want to create a world without weakness.”

‘Holy crap, he is good!’ Peter thought.

“This is the goal of our research here at Oscorp,” he gestured with his only hand towards the other scientists busy at work, “To create the future of humanity. The next step in human evolution.”

‘He is REALLY good!’

“Anyone care to venture a guess just how?” Dr. Connors asked. There was a flurry of movement from the group, and Peter’s hand got lost in the forest of annoyingly taller big kids. He heard Dr. Connors call one of them, but Peter could barely see anything so he wasn’t sure if it was him.

“Stem cells?” came a timid reply. Peter cursed, in his head of course because Aunt May taught him better, because CJ Vogel said his answer.

“Promising,” said Dr. Connors, “but not quite what I had in mind.”

“Is it organ printing?” was Avril’s reply. “Like the one Dr. Helen Cho is using?

“Technically, Dr. Helen Cho is researching on the use of stimulating rapid and controlled tissue growth on the human body, not separate to it.” Dr. Connors looked at each of them individually and Peter strained to catch his gaze, still stuck between the taller teen bodies. “And it’s close. But the solution I’m thinking of is something else. Something stranger. Something more... radical.”

The mysterious, and once again very dramatic, way he stated that had everyone in a flurry. There were a bunch of other answers, cybernetic enhancements, induced telomerase activity, the super soldier serum (this had Dr. Connors chuckling), but it apparently wasn’t what Dr. Connors was waiting for. Which got Peter thinking, what is the guy looking for? Something about his research probably? They were in his research facility (technically Oscorps but still). There were a lot of things Dr. Connor was known for, what could he possibly be-

And then, Peter had a light bulb moment.

“No one?” he asked the confused crowd. He gave small sigh and turned away. “Well then, I suppose I’ll have to show-”

“Cross species genetics!”

Peter’s shout had Dr. Connors pausing, and the students around him jumping, and facing back to his group. He made a cursory glance at the each of the students before his eyes locked unto Peter. The crowd suddenly moved, following Dr. Connor’s gaze, and they all cleared to show Peter still excitedly holding his hand up that was hidden by the taller kid in front of him.

“You’re talking about cross species genetics!” Peter said enthusiastically, “The technique of combining genes of different species into one organism to give that organism the evolutionary benefits the others had. Like the regenerative abilities of lizards, the ability of zebra fish to induce cellular differentiation on command, the immortal jellyfish and its ability to revert to its immature stage and be functionally immortal.”

He noticed that the rest of the tour group, Dillon the tour guide, and some of the other scientists were staring at him. The attention on Peter was causing him to squirm as he slowly lowered his hand and fiddled with his necklace in a nervous gesture. Even Dr. Connors said nothing, staying wide eyed, before he finally found his voice. “Yes that is it. That’s the answer I was looking for.”

Peter beamed at that, feeling much more comfortable and very proud of himself, ignoring the sneer coming from Ionello’s group, as Dr. Connor walked closer to him. Peter realized how tall Dr. Connors was when he was forced to lookup enough that his neck was complaining. And then he kneeled on front of Peter, which had Peter mentally sigh in relief.

“How did,” he started then paused as he looked at Peter in disbelief, “how did you know all that?”

Peter smiled brightly at him then grabbed a book from his backpack to show him a print out of a research paper entitled ‘Cross species genetics: A new method for induced cellular regeneration’, the words written by Dr. Curtis Connors just below the title. “I’ve read your research on the subject. And all other papers you’ve written on it."

Dr. Connors still had that wide eyed look on his face, gazing at Peter with intense curiosity, and asked in a quiet voice, “How on earth did you manage to understand my writings? Most of my college students, even some of my researchers, have a hard time understanding the material.”

Peter blushed at that, rubbing the back of his head as he lowered his gaze shyly. “I just understand it I guess.” He gave Dr. Connors a shrug.

There was a sudden laugh, and Peter looked up to see Dr. Connors giving Peter a wide, disbelieving smile. With his focus still intense, he asked Peter in a voice barely above a whisper, “Who are you?”

“Peter Parker,” he replied quietly. The wide eyed look in Dr. Connor’s eyes got even wider, if that was even possible.

“Peter... Parker?” he whispered, almost incredulous. Peter was starting to feel a little uncomfortable at the attention, and there was an almost crazed look in Dr. Connor’s eyes.

“Yep,” Mr. Harrington suddenly intruded, catching both their attention, and Peter felt his shoulders drop in relief. “Ten years old and already in the most advance science classes in Midtown Tech.”

“Ten years old? You understood my research papers while you’re still ten years old?” His attention was back on Peter now and it was with even greater astonishment than before.

“Yes sir, that’s our Peter Parker. Midtown’s current best and brightest.” Mr. Harrington smiled proudly at that, while Peter was busy wanting to hide his blush against the glares he could definitely feel were coming from the other teens.

Dr. Connor’s just stared in amazement at Peter before gently rising to his feet. He brought out his left hand and Peter was left staring at it before he raised his eyes up to the scientist who was now smiling much more friendly, with a more curious look in his eye.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Parker,” he said smoothly, “I hope to expect great things from you.”

And then Peter’s fanboying went back to full force because he was being complimented by Dr. Curtis Connors.

“Th-thank you Mister-I mean Dr. Connors! Nice to meet you too!”

‘Holy crap is this really happening right now?!’ was playing in Peter’s head as he eagerly grasped the other man’s hand in what was probably too enthusiastic of a handshake. The scientist didn’t mind though, letting out a chuckle before bringing his hand on Peter’s head and ruffling it and holy crap he was being head ruffled by Dr. Connors.

As Peter pushed his glasses back to his face, he decided that this was officially the best day of his life, second to being rescued by Iron Man.

Thor was, of course, stuck in another on of Loki’s traps. And of course, like the buffoon he was, he fell into its grasp. Now, falling from the sky, locked in a container, stuck in free fall as his body kept on flipping and slamming unto the internal surface, every surface in fact, of the cage, Thor realized that he really needed to learn not to fall for Loki’s tricks. Of course, a thousand years have passed and he still hasn’t learned. Falling to his probable (not absolute because let’s be honest he’s had worse) death, Thor promised that the next time he saw Loki, he was going to leave him out in the sun to cook while Mjolnir kept him in place.

Speaking of his hammer, he held tight unto Mjolnir, and grabbed unto a ledge just before it spun away. He then placed his hand on the glass to keep himself from being thrown off, as well as have enough leverage for what he was about to do. With a quick push from him and a powerful tug by Mjolnir, he was flying, aiming for the crack already present in the glass when he tried to get out (which of course failed as well since he was an idiot). It only took a moment of adrenaline in his veins, the rotation of the cage, the sound of glass shattering, and the feeling of the wind in his hair, before he was crashing onto the ground, buffeted of course by his flight.

He lied there, panting from the momentary fear. And then he was shaking with fury. Always betrayed. Always tricked. And always a fool when it came to Loki. Thor berated himself for being so irrational and blind to his brother’s tricks. Now he was lost, in some field in the middle of who knows where, battered and infuriated, all the while Loki is traipsing somewhere with a key to opening a portal to release an unholy army unto the unsuspecting world of Midgard.

Recompense for your failures. Blood demanding blood.

Thor shook the dark whispers from his mind and tried to focus on the task at hand. Loki would not stop at achieving his goal, to rule Midgard as its king. Even if he would only rule ashes. And that is something he cannot allow. Grabbing Mjolnir from the ground, he let the ancient magic flow, the forces of nature around him falling to the call of Mjolnir, feeling his strength return. Summoning a bolt of lightning, he let his powers change his clothes to strong Asgardian armor, and with the summoning of the winds, he flew into the air.

He let himself feel for the familiar energy of the Tesseract, using Mjolnir’s strength as well as his own to expand his senses. Any spike of energy, any pulse of radiation, he scanned for until... aha! With a direction in mind, he followed the source, pushing as much as he can into his flight to get there as soon as possible. The closer he got, the louder the sounds of destructions came, which spurned Thor on even more.

Recompense for your sins. The ghosts of catastrophe will always follow you.

“No. Not today,” he whispered back.

Curtis Connors watched from his perch behind the lab table as the Midtown students had their own fun. Some of them were busy asking questions to the other researchers. Some of them were already doing their best to fiddle with the very expensive, very much off-limits, and unfortunately inaccessible-unless-you-had-the-right-key-card, research and medical equipment. He had to stifle a laugh when Dillon noticed the group and started dragging them away as they loudly complained. So many young minds. So many intelligent future researchers. But out of all of the brightest of Midtown, one kid was keeping his attention the most.

Peter Parker

The small (oh so small even for someone of his age) youth was busy chatting up a storm with one of his researchers, one of his group leaders for the bioreactor project. The boy had a bright smile on his face as his mouth moved a mile a minute, absently fixing the glasses that went askew. He couldn’t hear what they were talking about since he was far away, but judging from the intelligent and awakened gleam in the researcher’s eyes, it must be something truly enlightening.

His name is Parker. Could it be?

He willed those thoughts away and returned to his observation. Another group was harassing another researcher with questions. And just so happened to be the shy one with how flushed and nervous the person was already. Maybe he should step in, just to satiate some curious kids? And then a small body joined the group, Peter Parker jumping up to probably get his own inquiries heard.

The boy had the intelligence, but paired with an innocent cheer that Richard never had. He didn’t have the same intense eyes nor the same firm frown that always marred Richard’s face. He has Mary’s chocolate eyes and her familiar smile. Her soft edges and the mischievous ways. He had that same glint in his eyes. Hell, he even seemed to have gotten Mary’s myopia. But could it possibly be true? So unlikely and yet hear it was right in front of him-

Something vibrated in his pocket. Reaching for it revealed his phone receiving a message. The name of the sender caused a grimace to bloom on his face.

Connors, I’ll be needing the results of the next trials by next week. Mr. Osborn grows impatient with you.

- Rajit Ratha

Curtis felt the joy at seeing young minds at work slowly fade away at the executive officer’s message. At the reminder of how he sold his soul for his research. Now here he was, pressure on all side, zero results to show. He could already feel the headache coming along. 

No, focus on the tour group. Better to have more positivity. With that in mind, he stood from the nearby table, ready to assist in answering the curious questions of the students-

The lights suddenly went out. Emergency lights immediately turned on. There was a systemic sound of machines turning off, doors to sensitive equipment closing automated. There was a whimper and Curtis turned to the group of kids that were frozen in their spots as the machines around them slowly died and the only thing remaining was the emergency lights along the walls, pathways, and ceiling, bathing the room in a softly white glow.

“What’s happening?” one of the students asked. Curtis himself wanted to answer that question. He grabbed his phone and dialed the lobby to ask what was going on.

And then an explosion shook the building. Hard enough to rattle the glass walls. Another explosion sounded, distant like the first one yet it’s effects ever present as the shaking of the floor was even more violent. More explosions followed, which caused the children to start whimpering and huddling together. They were all frozen in fear when a very large explosion suddenly sounded from the far end of the laboratory. They all turned as one to the source. What was once a thick 3-feet wall of concrete was now a gaping and smoking hole. And from that hole came... honestly Curtis didn’t know how to describe it.

Vaguely humanoid in shape, covered head to toe with an odd metal suit, something like armor. A strange machine (is that a gun?) on its arm. And the face covered by a metal mask. It hobbled on strange legs covered in strange metal armor and gray skin. And then it lifted its faceplate and something...evil and demonic and not human not human at all was staring back at him. And Curtis was so busy being shocked at the face that he didn’t notice as one of them lifted up its arms, pointed the strange device to one of them. And fired.

Thor could only hold his scream of frustration and regret at the sight of the bright Midgardian city slowly being turned into a land of rubble. He let his anger loose through the errant bolts of lightning and fury that flew from him and into any of the creatures that were currently wreaking havoc. He continued his path, following the source of the power surge, and saw a large beam of energy shooting towards the heavens and opening a gateway into the void of space. The Chitauri were flowing out of the hole like water, more and more following the next. He could see the Man of Iron battling them with his weapons. And while Thor knew of the other’s intellect, he knew that he would be overpowered soon. Which is why it needed to be ended at the very root.

He landed on a platform of a nearby tower, the sounds of chaos and destruction all around him. His heart clenched for the fear he could hear so loud and desperate from the Midgardians below. His blood boiled at the sight of his brother, shining in his robes and regalia, standing like a king at his dais. A mad king watching as the world burned into ashes around him. An uncaring statue, ignorant to the pleas below. Something tired and angry was spurned to life at the sight.

“Loki!” he bellowed to the green figure. His brother peered down at him in barely concealed surprise, which gave him a dark satisfaction. He pointed to the top of the building where the machine behind the chaos resided.

“Turn off the Tesseract before I destroy it!”

“You can’t!” Loki replied quickly, a manic gleam in his eyes. “There is no stopping it.” Loki pointed his scepter at Thor and told him with a cruel grin, “There is only the war.”

A heavy feeling settled in his chest, besides the fire of rage. His brother seeks war? His brother wishes for battle?

“So be it,” Thor replied.

With a war cry, Loki attacked Thor, scepter moving with a deadly grace as Thor countered with his hammer. They fought with both weapon and magic as lightning from his hammer and the power of Loki’s scepter would clash and destroy parts of the building of which they stood. The metal of Mjolnir clashed loudly with the golden scepter, every swing Thor would make was dodged by Loki’s grace. Every attack Loki took was easily batted away or blocked by Thor and Mjolnir. And they continued their deadly dance until the sounds of aircraft joined them.

Thor looked to the source and saw the crafts of SHIELD flying beside them, with weapons out, and the familiar faces of the warrior Natasha and Captain Rogers through the front windows. He was only able to think ‘Leave you fools!’  before Loki was shoving him away and aiming his scepter at the aircraft. The bullets they fired did nothing against Loki’s armor, but the power of the scepter was enough to destroy one of the engines. Smoke and fire belched out of the wings, it’s gait turning unsteady. Thor could not let the other engine get destroyed, so he bodily tackled Loki so that both their weapons were far from reach, letting his fists and rage be his weapon, hoping that his Midgardian comrades were safe.

Loki tried to counter his attacks, but his skills were never in melee combat, allowing Thor to continue his barrage of punches and kicks, wanting to just have Loki fall, to yield to him. To simple end all of this.

A load moan shook the sky. Guttural and ear deafening, the sound reverberated through the air. It made Thor pause and seek its origin, eyes opening wide to the sight. The Leviathan flew down from the void, so eerily graceful despite its size. And its voice was powerful and earth-shaking as it let out another cry before attacking the city in earnest. The sight of the humongous metallic beast flying through the sky made Thor pause.

Loki had used his distraction to grab for the scepter. Thor noticed a little too late, unable to stop Loki grab the scepter, scrambling for his hammer instead. And in just the nick of time too as the blade suddenly sliced downwards, close enough to open his face. He pushed against it and they continued their battle once again, metal against metal, hammer against scepter, brother against brother.

The sounds of destruction surrounded them like a sick symphony for their dance. They clashed and left sparks and rubble in their wake. Thor saw an opening, and gave one large push and managed to grab the lower half of the scepter, and using his hammer to push at the top, kept the blade in place. They were now both locked into a battle of strength, one Thor knew he could win. He pushed and he saw Loki’s knees begin to buckle and his face strain with the effort to keep him at bay. He just pushed harder, only now with both his words and his strength.

“Look at this!” Thor shouted, the crackle of energy weapons shooting their ammo and the sounds of explosions surrounding them. “Look around you! Do you think this madness will end with your rule?!”

Loki turned his head back to him, and the fevered look of blood lust faded away to fear. His eyes shined with unshed tears and his face lost the twists of insanity and Thor knew that his sobriety was setting in.

“It’s too late,” Loki said, angry at first but then petering out into a whisper, “It’s too late to stop it.”

Some part of Thor screamed at him not to listen, but Thor’s heart was too large, forgiveness easy to fall from his lips at the sight of his brother trembling before him.

“No. We can stop it. Together.” Thor smiled at him, and Loki smiled back. He ignored the whispers that told him Don’t trust him because hope was blooming in his chest and that maybe just maybe Loki would finally-

Pain lanced through his side and Thor felt himself kneel in pain. He heard a whispered voice say “Sentiment” and the pain faded away as he was filled with a familiar rage, stronger and powerful and bordering on sorrow.

‘How dare you!’ he shouted in his mind. He suddenly grabbed at Loki’s helmet to keep him steady. And with swiftness, he kicked Loki through the large window and bodily picked him up just to slam him down to the ground.

‘How dare you brother!’ he cried in his soul, pain clenching his heart. He looked at the figure of his brother, thinking him unconscious, before it suddenly rolled away and down to the ground below. Thor felt panic and followed, only to see Loki riding one of the Chitauri’s light attack craft flying away. Thor felt the fire of his anger ebb and replaced by the ever familiar exhaustion of pain and regret and self-loathing for once again falling for Loki’s tricks!

But today was not the time to flagellate one’s soul. He grabbed Mjolnir from the ground and lifted into the sky, letting his righteous fury power him through the heaviness settling in his soul. Better to let the fires keep him burning. And hopefully his fury was enough to save this world from Loki’s schemes.

Peter was running. Down the halls of Oscorp tower. He didn’t know what floor he was on, the emergency lights that he had been using as his guide had gone out. He could hear the sounds of people screaming and the roars of the...monsters. There was another explosion, more screams, and Peter was pushing his legs, running further and further into the belly of Oscorp. Far away from the labs, and from those things. He had to stop as his lungs burned with the need for air, his hand grasping at a nearby wall. He took in large gulps, his heart racing in his chest, and adrenaline still coursing through his veins as he willed himself to calm down and try not to have an asthma attack in the middle of...whatever the heck was happening. 

Strange metallic armor that glinted under the fluorescent lights of the laboratories. Weapons that glowed with an infernal blue energy, ripping the lab apart with ease. The sound of people screaming and panicking, trying to get away. The crackle of energy and the sizzling of flesh. Bodies falling around him. The smell of burnt flesh and blood and Peter was frozen and he needed to run, to get out, to get out NOW, except he can’t move and then one of them was pointing its spears and there was the whine of energy, and suddenly BAM somebody pushed him away and the blast destroyed the table behind him as he was pulled by whoever saved him out of the room and into the hallway but there was the whine again and his savior fell to the ground and Peter looked and saw blood so much blood, blood everywhere, and oh God the smell and he wanted to puke but the sound of their weapons was back and his body decided for him as he took off into the hallways and far away, the sounds of fire and destruction still following him, he hid in the shadows and ran and ran and ran-

His thoughts were disrupted by the sound of a screech, alien and frightening, and he was off running again. He tried to do his best to look for directions, which was hard because all the lights were still out and the hallways didn’t have any windows, only glass and concrete. There was another explosion and suddenly light started pouring in as the walls were destroyed by something large and metal, slicing through the concrete like butter. He curled into a ball to shield himself as the thing passed, and he had just enough time to see a large gigantic, holy shit that thing’s flying!, creature covered in metal before there was the familiar sizzle of the monster’s weapons and he was off running again. He took another turn, and then when he saw the fire exit, ran in and climbed down, the fire exit door slamming loudly behind him. But then there were sounds of scuttling and roars below him and he was climbing up instead. He kept on climbing, the nerves frazzled and breathing hard, grasping at the metal rails of the stair well to keep him from falling, but there was another explosion above and he stopped. The explosions got louder above, and the sounds of the monsters below were coming up and Peter knew he was well if he didn’t get out of there now!

He ran out the stair well, door broken and barely hanging on its hinges, and ran into another deserted hallway, scorch marks on the walls, frosted glass shattered, and the disgusting stench of sizzling meat in the air. Peter tried to block it all out, especially the familiar silhouettes that resembled bodies, and just looked for the nearest door, open room, maybe a vent, anything, until he found a big sliding door that was ajar. There was a keypad next to it with a slot for the key card he had seen the Oscorp staff were using,

Thick steel, key pads, dead guy (oh god that was a dead guy) trying to open it? Maybe a good place to hide?

Any thoughts were flushed away as there was another rumble and screeching from the far end of the hall and Peter was pulling at the edges of the door, trying to ignore the corpse he had to push out of the way. He then grasped at an indent in the door, set his foot on the floor and pushed.

The door barely budged.

He pushed again and it barely moved an inch. There was boom from far away, followed by the screeching hiss of the monsters and Peter tried to pull at the handle again. But the door kept up its resistance. He pushed and pushed but the door stubbornly refused to shut. Another boom and crash and he heard the hissing creatures louder now, probably in the hallway just outside the door. He frantically started pushing harder while eyes tried to find the reason why the stupid thing wasn’t moving!

There was the sound of shattering glass, the hiss and screech of the creatures and the crunch of their footsteps that were now very close. Peter’s heart started beating faster and he pushed harder. And maybe it was the added adrenaline of the fear of imminent death, but Peter somehow found the strength in his 10-year-old body to push hard enough that the door suddenly slid closed with a large thud of metal. There was a clicking sound from the door and then it was finally shut tight.

The sounds outside were muffled by the thick steel of the door, which could also mean that Peter wouldn’t be heard. Still, he waited stiffly until the sounds faded away, finally letting the breath he was holding. Now that he was safe, Peter wondered why everything looked foggy before realizing that his glasses were dirty. Quickly wiping them clean on his shirt, he decided to take stock of his surroundings.

He was in a large square room lit by the emergency lights along the edges of the walls and in the four corners. There was lab equipment everywhere, some Peter recognized, other’s that he only had a grasping knowledge of. A laminar flow cabinet sat in one corner next to a desk, and a machine that made the hologram of enzyme interaction that he saw earlier in the other corner. The far wall of one of the rooms was nothing but glass, its contents hidden since the lights from inside weren’t turned on. In the middle of the room were rows of glass boxes, stacked on top of each other.

He walked to the center of the maze of boxes and cautiously approached one of the boxes and peered inside. The minor illumination from the emergency lights above was enough for Peter to see something scamper in the darkness of the box. He wiped his glasses clean again and took a closer look, careful to not get too close. There was a scurrying sound coming from the box, and as Peter got closer, something slammed into the glass.

Peter jumped back, and whatever was inside the glass was suddenly trying to get out, thumping against the glass almost in an agitated manner. And as suddenly as it attacked, it stopped, slid down the glass, and stayed there on the ground (covered in what looked like sand now that Peter noticed), unmoving. Once Peter’s heart slowed down from the unexpected surprise, he took a closer look at whatever it was that jumped out, and saw eight lo legs and the black beady eyes of a very large spider. It sat still as a statue, and Peter wondered if the spider was looking at him. And maybe he was gonna go crazy because he almost died from a huge alien trying to shoot him with a laser gun.

He slowly backed away from the very creepy spider, only to run into the row of cages behind him. This startled the whatever was inside it. There were more sounds scurrying as the entire room of cages came to life with whatever they held.

“What. The. Hell.” Peter whispered, making a 360 as he listened every single animal in the cages stir. “Were the heck am I?”

Peter slowly backed away from the real life Little Shop of Horrors in front of him and tried to find a clipboard, an open computer, or anything that could explain what he just trapped himself in. He decided to read the label underneath the cages.

“Subject 36. Cross species Blue Mountains funnel-spider (Hadronyche versuta) x Immortal jellyfish (Turritopsis dohrnii).”

Wait what?

Peter reread that sentence again. And again. And then turned to the cage beside it to read the label.

“Subject 37. Cross species Darwin’s bark spider (Caerostris darwini) x Electric eel (Electrophorus electricus).”

Peter looked at the cage, only just noticed that the entire box was filled with water. And the spider was actually swimming in the water. He turned to another cage and saw a spider weaving webs that were glowing softly. Another was seemingly empty for dirt before there was movement and a spider appeared, it’s exoskeleton suddenly shifting from the browns of the soil to a lighter hue. There was another spider that had an extra set of legs before those legs opened and turned out to be wings. And that was when he realized where he was.

‘Holy crap,’ Peter thought, ‘I’m in the cross species genetics lab!’

A smile bloomed on his face because this was a life time opportunity! This was the work of Dr. Curtis Connors himself, in the flesh, right in front of him. This is so the best day of his lif-

There was a loud explosion somewhere and Peter was suddenly thrown around by the shaking it caused. He bodily slammed to one of the rows, knocking down some of the cages. The sudden impact with the cages, and subsequently the floor, left Peter in a daze. Which was why he didn’t notice that his glasses had flown of his head. Or that he was surrounded by broken glass. Or that some of the spiders had now escaped and were beginning to crawl up his arms and legs. He did notice a pain on his head. Reaching up, he felt something wet and came back to the sight of blood, appearing black in the low lights of the room.

He was bleeding. Peter knew that was bad, but somehow he couldn’t help but stare at the sight of his own blood on his fingers. Shouldn’t he be doing something right now to deal with it? Like put pressure or something?

Whatever remnant of thought he had was suddenly banished when a sharp pain lanced through him, radiating from his neck. He grabbed for the sore spot, and felt something hit his hand. He looked at where it landed and saw a spider, small, the bright blue and red in color, scurry away. The place where it bit him throbbed as he placed his hand over it. He gingerly checked the spot with his fingers, wincing at the pain.

‘Well this can’t get any worse’ he thought.

And then there was more pain, this time from his palm, and turning it around revealed a gash that was also bleeding. He looked at what could have caused it and saw the glass littering the floor around him.

‘Where the heck did all this glass come from? It wasn’t there before.’

The answer to his question came from another pain that lanced through his hand. He immediately grabbed it and saw that another spider had bit him. The eight legged bastard was currently hanging by a thread of silk from the bite mark, and he immediately grabbed the string and threw the spider away. But then another spider bit him, on the leg, and then another on his hip, and he was scrambling to stand, batting at his body as he finally noticed the spiders that had begun crawling on and under his clothes. Which meant that the glass came from the cages. Which meant that he had crashed through the cages, releasing the very experimental super spiders that had just bit him and were now trying to crawl through his pants.

Peter realized this as he was frantically whacking at anything crawling up him, shaking his arms and legs furiously, and his entire body flailing wildly to get rid of the eight legged creepy crawlies. Apparently it was enough because Peter only had to bat one very big spider that had crawled up his shoulder (and it was glowing by the way) before he was finally spider free, most of them having scurried away. But the sudden spike of adrenaline he felt was overpowered by a wave of dizziness.

Peter felt himself wobble as his head got fuzzier and fuzzier. His vision was beginning to fade in and out. The spider bites, his head injury, the cut on his palm, they all faded as he slowly felt himself sway unbalanced and the feeling in his arms and legs slowly recede. The venom must have started to take effect. Super spiders and super venom. He only had a moment to think ‘Oh shit’ before he was falling to his knees.

He held out his hands to stop himself from falling face first into the glass covered floor, only managing to get himself cut in the process. He somehow managed to place himself in a sitting position, against a nearby table leg, as he slowly felt himself go in and out of consciousness. He could feel his body get more sluggish by the second, could hear his own heart beat begin to slow. And that was when Peter realized he might actually die.

Fear suddenly gripped his heart, just as slow and lethargic, and he could do nothing but cry as he the thought that he was gonna die all alone, in a lab filled with genetically modified spiders while aliens and monsters were attacking people outside. He dimly felt the tears leave his eyes as sobs and whimpers broke through his lips. His breath started coming out in quick gasps, both from his internal panic and for air, as he could feel his chest get heavier and constricted.

Peter was going to die here. Peter was going to die here.

No please no. I don’t want to die yet.

But his body did not listen, only shut down ever so slowly. He distantly heard the crunch of glass and turned his head to the door. There was a high pitched whine and suddenly the doors were blasted in and those aliens started walking in. He could barely muster any energy to move, let alone to react, letting the fear that was growing to suddenly overwhelm him. All the terror, anxiety, dread, anger, self-loathing, all of it was like a tsunami that swept everything away.

Because he was going to die here. Peter Parker was going to die all alone.

Peter’s last thought was ‘I’m sorry Aunt May. I’m sorry Uncle Ben,’ before he was consumed by the darkness.

“He is fading my liege.”

The man said nothing, staring blankly at the stars as he stood impassively beside the one who had spoken.

“He is not long for this world.”

Still the man did not speak, mute by choice to the words of the other. The speaker also stood stoically, and could be mistaken as unbothered. Yet the man knew the other well. He could feel the displeasure rolling of the other, the anger hidden by the quiet apathy. Still the man did not speak, letting his silence tell what words could not. And he knew the other understood. And the man understood why the other was furious.

“The boy has fallen your highness.”

The speaker was still stoic, yet the man knew that there was sorrow, Tears were not shed but he knew. For he too felt it, deep in his heart. Another burden to add to his shoulders.

The man moved smoothly, walking from his perch and leaving the other behind. And the speaker remained, eyes open and unblinking, gazing out to the stars. But there was mourning behind them, a quiet grief that was no less daunting and profound. And through this pain the speaker remained impassive. Even as the boy’s tears fell openly, as his breath slowed into nothing, as his heart petered into silence, the speaker was unmoving. For the speaker could only watch as the young and bright star faded from the sky.

 He was floating. There was nothing around him

Just the black

Everywhere

All darkness

Empty

Nothing and nothing and nothing

No feeling

No pain

No fear

Nothing

Just him

Only him

Nothing but him

Darkness

Abyss

Empty

Alone

And then

Light

Heat

A spark

Stars and light and shining

Darkness chased away by bright rays

Emptiness filled by power

Energy and life and fire and spark and light and so much light

Light and lightning and electricity coursing through him

And feeling returns, fear and anger returns, and sorrow and joy and pain and freedom and emotion, emotion, so much EMOTION

Lightning and light and energy and life and heat and power in full force

And lightning

Storms

The rain and the wind and the crackle of lightning

Then a loud clap of thunder

And then Peter returned. He woke up with a large gasp, lungs reactivating and taking up huge gulps of air. He lied there, gasping like a fish as he tried to breathe in as much of the air as he can. As much as his living body can. Because holy crap he was alive. He was alive. He didn’t die. And that was something Peter couldn’t wrap his head around, both the dying and the living, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with it so he just focused on gulping his air and letting his heart restart or maybe slow down because he felt like it was both trying to explode and fight its way back to life. And he lied there panting and very much alive and Peter wanted to laugh or cry, maybe cry because that’s more appropriate since he’s shedding tears for his own resurrection.

There was a sudden hiss. Looking up, Peter saw that more of those creatures had begun entering the room. They walked confidently, crunching the glass and metal under their feet. That was when Peter saw how many they were and that they were all in the room. And he was alone with them, still lying on the ground and face covered in tears. Very much vulnerable.

Carefully lifting himself from the ground, he slowly crawled away from the sight of the aliens, crab-walking backwards. He kept up his pace until he felt himself collide with something solid. He looked behind him and saw a metal boot connected to a leg covered in gray skin, weird metal armor. He followed that leg upwards, connected to a torso also covered in metallic, alien armor, and then to a head that was slowly turning towards him. And a metal face plate was facing him, with inhuman eyes that simply stared at him. They stayed that way for small moment, before Peter was up and running.

The alien screeched, and then there was the wine of energy as Peter felt the alien shoot at him. He dives into a roll before swiftly jumping back to run again. By then, more of the aliens had seen him, and they all started to shoot at him. The energy from their weapons blew apart the cages and equipment. Peter almost stopped and gasped in horror (because so much research was just lost!) before he had to slide under a table and out before a laser blast almost killed him.

He jumped and ducked and rolled and tried his best to dodge the Blue Blasts Of Death that was gonna turn him to a ‘Peter Parker en flambe’. He honestly thought he was doing a good job at not dying. But then he felt danger coming and was too slow to react before he got hit by a lucky shot.

He went down in an instant, his shoulder scorching with pain. He could feel the flesh burning, instantly cauterized. He could feel the remaining energy from the laser blast sizzling his nerves, and it was all he could do to not writhe in pain, letting out a scream instead. He felt the aliens aim for him and he jumped out of the way as the spot he just lied on was blown to dust.

His shoulder protested the movement but he tried to push it down, more adrenaline pumping through him as he tried to run away. But he had to jump back as the floor in front of him was destroyed. More shots followed as he quickly backed up, only to have to jump behind a nearby counter as energy blasts rained fire unto where he once stood, cement dust from the wrecked floor creating a cloud of cover.

He was breathing hard, both from the pain and the exertion of not dying. He could hear the aliens walk towards him, probably looking for him through the dust. Peter kept silent, covering his mouth with his hand to hide his loud breathing. He could hear them getting closer, shattering glass and clinking metal boots getting louder and louder. Peter’s heart is racing in his chest, and he wants to scream in at how helpless and weak he is. He might have survived getting bitten by genetically modified spiders, but he was still gonna die and there was nothing he could do about it.

He was so puny, so weak. So powerless. So broken and worthless. So incredibly insignificant. So alone.

There was nothing he could do.

Yes there is

A spark. There was something inside of Peter. Something was calling to him. He could feel it. Beneath his skin, pulsing. It was weak, but it was something. Whatever it was broke through the panic settling in his mind.

You are not worthless

It beckoned him. Not with an actual voice, but he instinctively knew what it was saying. He could feel what it was telling him and he just knew. He knew it in the bottom of his heart and the depths of his soul. It was calling to him.

You are not alone

There was a spark, a flash of light really, between his fingers. It caught Peter’s attention, and he could feel the...whatever it was that was calling him was behind it. There was another flash, more light and sparks, Peter could feel an energy beginning to thrum in his veins. It was building under his skin and seeping into his bones. It weaved through his muscles and cells and bounded itself to his very atoms and Peter just knew that it was all because of the call. Of the thing he knew that he had, he was so intimately connected.

No, just you

All you

The energy was rising within him, and more sparks and lights came from him. And then there were arcs of electricity climbing up his arms and dancing on his palms. He could feel strength flood his body and settle comfortably in him. And he could still hear it and it filled him with a sense of peace because it was true. That he wasn’t alone. That he wasn’t broken. That he wasn’t weak.

Now you see

And then there was a loud explosion and Peter felt himself be thrown away, out of his hiding spot and into the open. He coughed loudly as he quickly got up to his feet, and faced about a dozen aliens. Their weapons hummed as they charged, almost in anticipation for the kill.

You have might

They aimed their glowing weapons at him. But it was all so slow for Peter, the sound of their guns, the movement of their arms. They all moved in slow motion. Peter knew that time didn’t change, he knew this to be true, yet he could feel everything all at once, no matter how fast or slow. Seconds stretched and time made infinite. And in that infinite instantaneous moment, he knew instantly what to do.

You have power

The energy inside him built up once again. It rose and waved through him, living electricity crackling on his skin. It filled his arms and legs and all his muscles. Every cell in his body was bathed in it.

You have strength

The world still seemed to move so slow, even Peter. But he instinctively knew what he had to do. So he braced his legs, letting his strength steady him. He raised his arms, slow moving like the aliens lifting and aiming their guns at him. And as he felt the world slowly shift back, as the seconds compressed and time pulled into itself, as the hissing aliens and guns were ready to rip him to shreds, he let the power within him flow to his arms and palms and fingertips.

Use it

And in a single instant, he let it all go. The power in his fingers, the energy in his bones, was released as white hot lances through his hands. They jumped and arced through the air, spears of pure electricity and lightning, finding their targets with deadly accuracy. They crackled and sizzled and lit up the room like the very sun itself. And in the instant that it was unleashed to wreak its deadly force, it was gone.

The aliens where nothing more than smoking and charred bodies, their weapons reduced to ash and rubble. The floor, walls, and ceiling were covered in scorch marks, some from the alien’s guns, others much more fresh and smoking. Peter stood in the middle in the destruction, hands pushed out and palms still open, tiny spark and arcs of electricity climbing up his arms. He stared at them in disbelief. Like they weren’t his own. But he knew it was his. He knew it was real. That that, the smoldering pile of metal and monster flesh, was all because of him.

As Peter lowered his arms slowly, he watched in hypnotized amazement as the lightning still dance on his skin. His young eyes were filled with curiosity and pure wonder. And somewhere deep within him, something settled. Something old and familiar, even though he’s never felt it before. Like a piece falling into place in a puzzle long forgotten. And in typical Parker fashion, he celebrated that fulfillment by excitedly jumping up and down, screaming “I just shot lightning from my hands!”, dancing in joy, knocking his foot on the corner of a counter, slipping, and falling forward into the arms of a dead alien.

Peter would forever deny, if anyone heard him, the bloodcurdling, high pitched scream of “Ew!” he let out.

Thor was in the middle of destroying a Leviathan with the Hulk when he felt it. The pull of magic, a familiar sensation. It was a scent of power and a feeling of the winds changing as something was awakened. He kept an eye on his battle as he stretched his senses far, seeking out the source of the change. And then the pull was suddenly a tidal wave of energy, a familiar energy that called to him.

As Thor delivered the final blow to the Leviathan by driving its own armor into its skull, holding on tight as they crash landed, his mind and power answered the call. He felt his lightning stir and reach out, and there was a pull in his mind. A pull to seek out the source of the disturbance. To find the energy. To find the lightning that his very being was seeking out.

With a simple worded request to the Hulk to finish off the remaining enemies, Thor flew up into the air and traced where the magic was coming from. His flight led him to a building that was heavily damaged. He could see some of the Chitauri scuttle on the ground. With a simple summon, he called out Midgard’s clouds to rain down lightning on the unsuspecting fools as Thor glided into one of the gaping holes in the building’s side.

He took gentle but swift steps, trying not to catch the attention of any Chitauri for his mind was occupied the sensation that was guiding him. He walked through the mazes of rubble and melted steel until he found himself in a hallway littered with broken white glass. Bodies of Midgardians littered the floor, their blood soaking the tiles. At the end of the hallway was what once was a door only now a smoking pile of metal.

As Thor approached the opening, something jumped out. Thor instantly raised Mjolnir, already summoning lightning, when he realized what he was looking at. A small child, nay older than 10 years, was looking at him with wide frightened eyes. The child had an unruly mop of brown hair that was covered dust and glittering pieces of glass. Dirt and soot covered the boy’s pale face and clothes, and Thor could see that his palms were wet blood. There were tears in the boys eyes, looking lost amongst the carnage. Thor felt his heart clench at the sight.

He took slow steps towards the young child. The boy stayed still, seemingly frozen, and Thor took it as a sign to continue. As he approached, he took note of the stiff posture and the face stuck in a wide eyed expression. When Thor was finally within arms distance of the boy, he kneeled down gently, as to not startle him.

“Are you alright little one?” Thor asked softly. The boy nodded his head silently, still looking at Thor like he was a bilgesnipe ready to attack. He swept a critical eye over the boy’s form, taking stock of any injuries he might have. The boy was mostly covered in dust and bits of broken glass. His face was sweaty and causing the dirt to stick, large brown eyes wide and dazed making the boy look even more lost. The shoulder of his clothes was burnt but a closer look revealed no injury, only a minor reddening of the skin. He gently grasped the boy’s palms to learn the source of the blood, taking note of the cuts that were already closed.

“Do your wounds ail you?” Thor asked. The boy just stared at him, followed his gaze to his palms, and scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. He closed his palm quizzically before turning back to Thor with wide eyes.

“No they don’t,” the boy said in bewildered. Thor simply took it as a good sign, even if there was a confused light in the boy’s eyes.

“Come now, you are safe,” he told him. “I shall bring you to your Midgardian warriors called ‘police officers’ and they shall help you escape the destruction. It is not safe for a child like you to be here.”

The boy did not move, staring at Thor with that same wide eyed look, and Thor wondered if he might have to just forcibly take the boy because he had not the time to care for him, before the child nodded. Thor gave him a hopefully comforting smile before wrapping his arms around the boy and smoothly stand. The child wrapped his arms around Thor’s neck in surprise, and Thor only managed to murmur an apology before he was quickly walking out of the wreckage to look for an opening to fly out. It was because of his searching that he did not hear the quiet scuttle of pebbles behind him. Nor did he hear the soft hum of the Chitauri’s weapon.

But the boy did.

“Behind you!”

Thor quickly turned, immediately shielding the child, and threw Mjolnir. The fallen creature had but a moment to aim before Mjolnir crashed upon it and rendering it dead. The Chitauri soldier truly fell then, and Thor summoned his hammer, eyes more alert, and ears straining. That was how he heard the hiss behind him, and with a quick movement he blocked the blast headed for them with Mjolnir, and summoned the energy within the strike the soldier with lightning.

Except the soldier was already lanced with a bolt of electricity, writhing in pain before falling dead in a pile of smoking metal and flesh. Thor stared in surprise at the fallen soldier and turned to his head to where the bolt came from. His eyes brought him to the boy he was carrying, his little palms out in the direction of the Chitauri. And on the child’s very skin, lightning and electricity was dancing safely and not causing any harm.

Thor was left reeling. The power that rushed through the air was of a familiar flavor. The boy wielded Asgardian magic, freely and safely. It was impossible. Only Asgardians can wield that type of magic. And he had never seen a Midgardian present with the skills of elemental control. Midgard had yet to master the art. Who was this child who could command the powers of the sky? He could still feel that powerful pull; only know he could see where it was leading him.

As the boy lowered his arms and faced Thor, an embarrassed smile blooming on his face, Thor asked him one question out of the many that swam in his mind.

“Who are you?”

The boy smiled at him, strained and awkwardly, before answering.

“I’m Peter Parker. Who are you?”