In fact, the big box of hammers Coulson had Melinda pick out had just been grabbed at random.
These ancient-looking square-headed hammers had fallen from the sky alongside an energy surge one night several days ago, smashing a huge crater into the ground. Selvig's group of three had located the site using their instruments and equipment, and Thor had been sent flying when they were on their way there.
By the time S.H.I.E.L.D. arrived, Coulson had only seen a crater roughly three kilometers wide in the New Mexico wasteland, densely packed with these square-headed hammers.
How many were there exactly?
No one knew. So far, the counting and transport work had yet to be completed. S.H.I.E.L.D. had recovered 260,000 hammers, and there were likely another 700,000 or so still in the crater.
More than a dozen excavators and cranes worked around the crater twenty-four hours a day. Melinda had simply dragged a box over from the worksite for Thor to inspect.
Sure enough, just like the other mental patients, he claimed the hammers were his.
Well, the hammers did have ancient patterns, along with genuine leather grips and straps. They looked quite beautiful.
Coulson himself had felt the urge to take one home, perhaps to hammer in nails someday or fix a garden fence. It would be practical and impressive.
They all looked as though they had come from the same mold, identical in shape and size. The only differences were their materials. Some were made of steel, some of gold or silver, while others were plastic or glass. There was every kind imaginable.
The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had tried handling every one of them as well. There was nothing special about them. They were just ordinary hammers.
But that changed nothing. They still had to investigate. S.H.I.E.L.D. did not concern