Black Armor

Somewhere in the mountains, at an undisclosed location.

The searchlights of the watchtowers rotated like white, curved blades, slicing through the darkness in rhythmic circles. Buildings stood shoulder to shoulder, their brilliant lights illuminating the pitch-black mountain interior. Rows of radar dishes were arranged in a square formation in the darkness behind the complex, their heads tilted upward like a field of sunflowers.

A pitch-black steel raptor soared over the mountain range and arrived amidst the brightly lit complex. It was a black attack helicopter, its red indicator lights flashing conspicuously beneath the spinning rotors. Military off-road vehicles and heavy transport trucks formed a long line on the road below, their headlights piercing the night like lightsabers.

"Attention all personnel, the evacuation order has been confirmed. Please board your designated vehicles and evacuate immediately. I repeat, this is not a drill."

The loud, clear evacuation order echoed repeatedly through every loudspeaker in the complex. Heavily armed soldiers and office staff in suits followed the commands, carrying out the evacuation in an orderly and rapid fashion.

The helicopter growled as it touched down on the reserved landing pad. Nick Fury, the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. and a master spy, ducked out of the cabin, his black trench coat billowing in the rotor wash like a dark battle flag.

Maria Hill, the Deputy Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., and Phil Coulson, a senior agent who had been waiting there, led their Director into the express elevator leading to the top-secret laboratory. They descended vertically to the very bottom of the facility, entering a spacious laboratory where a hemispherical dome, dozens of meters high, hung overhead like a giant lid.

"What's going on, Doctor?" Nick Fury strode into the lab and asked in a booming voice.

Dr. Erik Selvig—a physicist with a partially bald head—hurried over to meet him. Before this, he had been tinkering with a complex circular electronic device in the center of the room, where a blue cube was fixed in place, its deep, azure energy flowing within like water.

"The Tesseract. It's reacting in a way that isn't quite normal."

"Are you joking?"

"Not at all," Dr. Selvig said. "The Tesseract is not only highly active, but it's also exhibiting some peculiar reactions."

"I assume you've tried pulling the plug?"

"We tried, but it is an energy source itself," the Doctor shook his head. "We cut the power, and it turned itself back on. And if its energy reaches saturation—"

"Isn't that exactly what we wanted, Doctor?" Fury stopped in his tracks. "To master cosmic energy?"

Dr. Selvig walked over to the computer on the lab bench. "No, we aren't ready. My calculations are nowhere near complete. It keeps emitting interference waves and radiation, though nothing harmful—just some very low-level gamma rays."

The eyelid of Fury's single eye seemed to twitch at the mention of "gamma rays."

"It's still going to be harmful."

As he spoke, he pressed his earpiece and said, "Agent Barton, report."

Senior Agent Clint Barton slid down agilely from a high vantage point along a black rope. He was a top-tier archer and one of Fury's most trusted agents. It was said he possessed the eyesight of a hawk, hence his codename, "Hawkeye."

"No one in or out, no external contact, no real-time communication," Barton walked up to the machine, his sharp gaze scanning the mysterious cube. "Even if someone were pulling strings, it wouldn't be from this end."

"'This end'?" Fury repeated his choice of words.

"The Tesseract is a door to the other side of the universe, isn't it?" Barton crossed his arms. "Doors can be opened from both sides."

As if in response to his words, the Tesseract suddenly emitted a strange noise. The azure fluid inside suddenly accelerated, and high-density energy dispersed like a mist. Invisible fluctuations erupted from the small cube, causing the entire facility beneath their feet to tremble violently, the steel beams emitting a chilling groan.

Dr. Selvig's expression froze as he stared at the computer; he saw the readings on all the instruments skyrocketing uncontrollably! The continuously radiating energy formed a violent vortex on the surface of the Tesseract, the roaring sound growing louder and louder, battering everyone's eardrums.

The surging energy reached a peak, and a blue laser pierced forward like a sword. Space screamed as a gap was torn open, and blue energy swept through the entire room like a transparent tidal wave.

The energy vanished, space stabilized, and a man appeared where the beam had pointed. He was wreathed in flame-like blue light, holding a black scepter with a pale blue glow at its tip.

He slowly raised his head, a sinister, cruel smile on his face.

His name was Loki, the God of Mischief from Norse Mythology, hailing from the divine realm known as "Asgard."

Heavily armed agents in black surrounded him, seven or eight gun barrels aimed at him as the perimeter slowly tightened.

"Sir," Fury said, his voice breaking the silence. "Please put down the spear."

Loki glanced sideways at the scepter in his hand, hesitating for half a second. Then, without warning, the scepter was raised, and a dazzling blue orb of light whistled out like a cannonball. Agent Barton pushed his Boss out of the way just in time, and the orb blew an experimental table behind them to smithereens.

The agents didn't hesitate to pull their triggers, seven or eight barrels spitting fire at him simultaneously. Loki leaped into the air against the gunfire, pouncing forward like a flying goose, all the bullets bouncing off his body. He moved with the agility of a black serpent, the scepter swinging rapidly and trailing blue arcs of light. The agents stood no chance against his astonishing strength and reflexes; in the blink of an eye, every agent in the room had been struck down.

Loki turned slowly, his gaze sweeping over the devastated laboratory before settling on Nick Fury and the Tesseract beside him.

He smiled coldly and raised his scepter once more. A humming sound like an engine starting up resonated, and the blue energy formed a vortex at the tip of his staff, as if it were a fully drawn bow.

A shockwave beam suddenly erupted from the depths of the darkness, catching the Asgardian off guard and striking him squarely in the back. Loki stumbled and fell to the ground, the energy gathered on the scepter dissipating instantly.

"Who!?"

He growled, his eyes quickly snapping toward the direction of the sneak attack.

The figure lurking in the shadows seemed to have appeared out of thin air on the circular walkway thirty meters above the lab floor. It was a person encased entirely in black armor, with white stripes painted on the limbs and chest. The eye-pieces of his helmet were "V"-shaped, and they glowed with a pale blue light the moment Loki shouted.

He was silent and motionless. Even with the world's top agents and a god from Asgard gathered in this room, not a single person had noticed when or how this guy had gotten in.

He leaped down from the thirty-meter height, landing in a half-crouch. A buzzing metallic echo reverberated through the room as the armor hit the ground, and the dark gray composite floor of the lab buckled violently.

Loki tightened his grip on the scepter cautiously, the glowing blue tip pointing at the black-clad intruder, his boots instinctively sliding back half a step.

"Who are you?"

No answer. The armored figure clearly wasn't the type for small talk. Without a word, he raised his palm, and a blue pulse beam blasted from it, aimed straight at Loki's face.

The Asgardian did not hesitate; relying on his superhuman reflexes, he parried the blast with his scepter and lunged forward to close the distance. He feinted, stepped to the side, and swung the scepter horizontally toward the other's face, trailing a blue streak.

Loki had been raised as an Asgardian Prince; while he wasn't primarily a warrior, his combat skills were nothing to sneeze at. The scepter changed forms in his hands, cutting blue trajectories through the darkness.

But the dense web he wove still couldn't stop the rhythm of his opponent's assault. Loki didn't quite see the specific movements, but his scepter was skillfully deflected by the other's arm guard. The black-gloved palm struck his chest with the force of a thunderclap, sending him stumbling back two steps. The man followed with a spin, his leg sweeping in an obtuse arc like a whirlwind. Though Loki barely managed to raise his arms to block, the force behind the blow sent him airborne; he rolled twice in mid-air before crashing heavily to the ground.

This was completely different from the plan. Loki considered himself a god, believing he had few rivals on Earth, yet he hadn't even looked cool for three seconds before running into a tough nut to crack. Were the people on Earth this troublesome these days?

Agent Barton crouched behind cover, observing the situation carefully. He tilted his head toward the Director, who was hunched behind an experimental table, and asked, "Was that part of your arrangement, too?"

"No," Fury narrowed his single eye, studying the black armor, and said in a low voice, "Let's wait and see for now."

Loki rose from a half-kneel and, catching his opponent off guard, flicked his wrist to unleash another orb of blue light from his Scepter. The highly concentrated energy whistled through the air toward the Black Armor, only to collide abruptly with a barrier that had materialized out of thin air. A flame-colored light appeared suddenly before the Black Armor, rapidly forming an intricate magic circle that blocked Loki's surprise attack like a shield.

Loki froze for a moment, but his opponent clearly had no intention of giving him time to daze. The Black Armor raised its right palm, and a beam of energy exploded mercilessly against Loki's handsome face. The force sent him reeling backward, his back slamming hard against the circular inner wall of the laboratory before he collapsed to the floor, unable to rise again as the Scepter slipped from his hand and rolled away.

Loki lay on the ground, gritting his teeth and struggling as he reached out with a trembling hand toward the Scepter nearby. But the Black Armor walked up to him at a leisurely pace, its heavy black boot pinning his hand firmly to the floor.

Loki looked up, his face twisted in a snarl, and forced the words through his teeth: "Who exactly are you?"

The figure inside the Black Armor finally spoke, their voice sounding unnaturally deep, as if processed through a machine.

"Your nightmare."