Police, Come Clean Up This Mess

The battle here had barely ended when the roar of engines came from the street corner. Everyone looked up to see several black SUVs rolling over the rubble at the end of the street before coming to a steady stop beside them.

The doors opened, and Phil Coulson stepped out of the front passenger seat of the lead vehicle. He adjusted his tie, swept his gaze over the devastated street, then stopped at the person squatting beside the still-smoking metal wreckage.

Behind him came a bald agent—Sitwell—holding a tablet whose screen was constantly flashing with data.

"The target has been neutralized, sir." Sitwell glanced down at the tablet. "Energy readings have dropped to zero."

"I can see that." Coulson's tone was calm, though his brow twitched slightly.

He walked toward the center of the ruins, his dress shoes crunching softly over gravel. As he passed the Warriors Three, Volstagg was sitting amid the rubble, clutching his bleeding shoulder; Fandral was leaning against an overturned pickup truck, catching his breath; and Hogan stood silently at the front, his mace braced against the ground. Coulson glanced at them, his gaze lingering for a moment on Volstagg's axe before moving on.

He continued forward until he stopped in front of Thor.

Thor held Mjolnir, his armor gleaming and his cape still fluttering slightly in the night wind. But the instant he saw Coulson, his expression became somewhat awkward, and he instinctively tried to hide the hammer behind his back—not by much, but noticeably enough. Coulson's gaze followed his hand, catching sight of the leather strap protruding from the handle. Then he raised his head expressionlessly and looked Thor in the face.

"Dr. Donald Blake," Coulson said in an even tone. "Is this some kind of Midgard cosplay?"

Thor's mouth twitched. Though he did not understand the words, he could tell he was being mocked.

"...Agent Coulson."

Coulson looked him over from head to toe—armor, cape, hammer—then returned his gaze to Thor's face and fell silent for two seconds.

"I knew you hadn't told the truth."

Thor gripped the hammer, fell silent for a moment, then spoke in a deep, earnest voice. "But our goals are the same, are they not?"

Coulson stared at him for two seconds without replying. He turned toward the pile of Destroyer wreckage, clasped his hands behind his back, and looked as though he were admiring an abstract sculpture.

"Stark's latest creation?" he asked the person crouching beside the wreckage, his tone carrying a subtle hint of probing.

Chen Xiao did not even raise his head, continuing to pick through a smoking fragment of faceplate.

"If he could make something like this, those American congressmen would lose their minds."

Coulson was silent for a moment, then muttered, almost to himself, "Either way, he never tells me anything."

The agents behind him had already started working. Carrying all kinds of instruments and sealed bags, they gathered around to process the scene. Coulson turned around, showed his credentials, and adopted a formal tone.

"By procedure, we need to take this pile of things with us."

Thor frowned and was about to say something when a calm voice drifted over from the side.

"No."

Coulson turned around. Chen Xiao had already risen to his feet, dusting off his hands as the hem of his mage's robe stirred in the night wind.

"...Mr. Chen, didn't you say this had nothing to do with Mr. Stark?"

The corner of Chen Xiao's mouth lifted slightly. "It has nothing to do with him. It's mine."

Coulson's gaze shifted back and forth between Chen Xiao and the Destroyer wreckage. His professional smile remained, but his eyes grew more serious.

"By procedure, this belongs to an unknown creation. And for third-party contact between an unknown creation and Earth, S.H.I.E.L.D. has the authority to—"

"Enough." Chen Xiao cut him off, impatience in his voice. "This is my trophy. If you want one, go fight for it yourselves."

He raised one finger.

"First, this thing is made of Asgardian Uru Metal. You have no tools that can cut it, no containers that can hold it, and no laboratories that can analyze it. Drag it back with you, and all it'll do is take up space."

Coulson's expression did not change, but his brow shifted slightly.

"Second." Chen Xiao raised a second finger, emphasizing his words. "Let me repeat myself—this is mine."

There was an unquestionable chill in his tone. The agents behind Coulson had already placed their hands on their holsters. Chen Xiao's eyes swept over them, cold and sharp as blades.

He did not dislike Coulson. On the contrary, he rather liked the man, which was why he had always been friendly—provided S.H.I.E.L.D. did not start reaching where it should not.

The air froze for a moment.

Coulson raised a hand, stopping the movements behind him as he tried to lighten the atmosphere.

"I thought we were allies, weren't we?"

Chen Xiao did not answer. He merely looked at him. After thinking for a moment, he adjusted the collar of his robe, brought his palms together with his fingertips touching before his chest, and bowed slightly in a standard Kamar-Taj greeting. The movement was crisp and clean, carrying an ancient sense of ritual.

Coulson froze for a moment, then copied the gesture.

"Allow me to introduce myself. Standing before you is Chen Xiao, chief disciple of the Sorcerer Supreme."

Chen Xiao straightened up, a faint smile at the corner of his mouth.

"Our goals are the same. But whether we are allies—that depends on you."

The flood of information caught Coulson somewhat off guard, but his professional composure allowed him to recover quickly.

"...The Sorcerer Supreme?"

Chen Xiao could no longer be bothered with him. He turned around and sliced his right hand through the air. A blue portal silently unfolded, arcs of electricity crackling along its rim. Then he raised his hand, electromagnetic force pouring from his palm as the Destroyer's wreckage silently rose into the air and was steadily tossed into the portal.

"When you understand what the Sorcerer Supreme represents, we can proceed to the next stage of communication."

He stepped into the portal. As the blue arcs closed behind him, leaving only a narrow slit, his voice drifted out from within.

"Oh, and tell Black Egg when you get back—quiet people aren't necessarily harmless. He'd better watch himself."

The ring of light closed, and the electrical arcs vanished. A faint scent of ozone lingered in the air before the evening breeze carried it away.

Coulson stood where he was, staring at the place where the portal had vanished. After a moment of silence, he slowly took a small notebook from his pocket, wrote a few words in it, tore out the page, and handed it to Sitwell beside him.

"File it. The Asgardian wreckage was handled by a third party."

Sitwell took the note, glanced at it, and nodded.

Coulson turned to face Thor.

"Dr. Blake—no, Thor."

Thor held his hammer and looked at him.

"So, are we allies?" Coulson's tone was even as he pulled a business card from his pocket and held it out.

Thor looked down at it. Against the dark background was only one line: Phil Coulson, Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division, followed by a phone number. He accepted the card, glanced at Jane beside him, then looked up, his voice steady.

"If you return what you took, Earth will gain a loyal ally."

The corner of Coulson's mouth twitched slightly, and he reached up to rub his nose.

"Dr. Selvig's research has been very helpful to us... We were only borrowing it."

"Then that's stealing!" Darcy's furious voice drifted over from the side. "You're a bunch of thugs!"

Dr. Selvig wore an awkward smile as he quickly covered Darcy's mouth, trying to smooth things over. "I'd be very happy to see my work benefit humanity. It just isn't finished yet..."

Coulson nodded naturally, his expression unchanged.

"I'll arrange for it to be returned."

He turned and walked toward the vehicles. The agents behind him packed up their instruments and withdrew into the cars swiftly and orderly. The doors shut, the engines started, and the SUVs drove away along the road they had come from. Their taillights grew smaller in the night before finally disappearing beyond the end of the highway.

The ruins fell silent once more.

Thor and Jane exchanged a glance and smiled at each other. Jane's hand was still gripping the edge of his cape, unwilling to let go.

Volstagg rose from the rubble, clutching his bleeding shoulder. He walked over to Thor, followed his gaze toward the place where Chen Xiao had disappeared, and scratched his head.

"...Are Midgard's sorcerers all this ridiculous?"

Thor did not answer.

Fandral limped over while supporting himself against a wall. The blood at the corner of his mouth had not been wiped away, but his smile had already returned. "At least he's an ally. Better than Loki."

Hogan stood silently at the front, his mace braced against the ground, and nodded.

Sif sheathed her longsword, the sound of metal sliding home crisp and sharp. She turned to Thor, her expression shifting from battle-hardened severity to a warrior's calm resolve.

"We should return. The battle isn't over yet."

Volstagg scratched his head. "What about Midgard...?"

Sif glanced at him. "We'll talk after Loki is dealt with."

Thor gripped Mjolnir and gave Jane one final look. The night wind lifted her golden hair, moonlight falling across her face. Her eyes were slightly red, but she did not cry.

"Wait for me," he said.

Jane nodded.

Thor turned around and raised Mjolnir high.

"Heimdall!" Dazzling light descended. The beam of the Rainbow Bridge swallowed him and the Warriors Three, multicolored radiance shooting into the sky. It lasted for several seconds before fading away.

Only a scorched mark remained where they had stood, along with a few embers slowly drifting down in the night wind.

Jane stood there, staring in silence at the place where the light had vanished for a long time.

Selvig walked over and gently patted her shoulder.

Darcy stood nearby and, for once, did not make a sarcastic remark.