Stuttgart, Germany, 48 Konigstrasse.
Inside an upscale club, the guests in suits and dresses rushed to flee in panic. In their midst, a strikingly charismatic young man in a sharp suit, holding an unusual scepter, walked calmly against the current. Unlike those fleeing in terror, he seemed almost detached, his steps steady and unrushed.
Soon, a green aura started emanating from him, and his attire shifted from the elegant suit to a more regal outfit—golden armor with a flowing green cape. The man was none other than Loki, the God of Mischief.
The people ran, desperate to escape the chaos that Loki had caused. Just moments ago, Loki had brutally removed a man's eyeball in front of them, using his scepter, for some dark purpose. He had come to Germany to obtain something Red Skull had once left behind—something essential for activating the Tesseract and summoning the Chitauri army.
Although Loki had achieved his goal, he decided to stay a bit longer, enjoying the fear and chaos he had caused. He stood tall, his green cape rippling behind him, savoring the sight of the terrified crowd.
With a smirk, Loki tapped his scepter on the ground, conjuring three illusionary copies of himself to block the fleeing paths of the terrified people.
"Kneel before me!" Loki's voice was calm but commanding, yet his words were drowned out by the screams and chaos.
"I said, KNEEL!" Loki's voice boomed as he raised his volume, laced with a mix of annoyance and delight.
Intimidated by the power emanating from him, the terrified crowd obeyed, dropping to their knees one by one, surrendering to his overwhelming presence.
Satisfied, Loki looked down at them, his smile widening in approval. "Isn't this better? Isn't this your natural state? You were made to be ruled, and in the end, you will always kneel." He paused, his voice dripping with condescension. "Freedom is life's great lie, a false idol that drives you to mad pursuits and needless ambitions. You crave subjugation. Deep down, you know it—you will always kneel."
As Loki basked in his power, a lone elderly man slowly rose to his feet, standing tall among the bowed figures.
Loki raised an eyebrow in amusement, turning his attention to the defiant old man. "You refuse to kneel?" he said, voice mocking.
The elderly man looked straight at Loki, his eyes filled with defiance. "I will never kneel before someone like you," the old man declared.
Loki's grin twisted into something darker. He walked closer, sneering, "There are no men like me."
The elderly man shook his head resolutely. "There are always men like you."
Loki laughed, an unsettling sound that echoed through the plaza. He raised his scepter, its tip glowing ominously. "Look at this old man, everyone! Let him be an example!"
The blue energy surged at the tip of his scepter as he prepared to strike. "Let this serve as a reminder—resistance is futile!"
Just as he unleashed a beam of bright blue energy, the old man braced for his demise, covering his head instinctively. But the blow never landed.
When the old man opened his eyes, he found himself unharmed, and before him stood a tall man in a familiar red, white, and blue uniform, holding a vibranium shield that had intercepted the blast.
It was Captain America.
The beam ricocheted off the shield, striking Loki and sending him sprawling. Loki, taken by surprise, fell backward, scrambling to regain his footing.
Captain America, now revealed in full view, walked forward confidently, shield ready. This was his first mission after emerging from the ice, and here he stood, face to face with a being out of Norse myth. The world was already disorienting enough after seventy years, but a Norse god attempting to conquer mortals? That was something else.
"You know," Captain America began, his voice steady, "the last time I was in Germany and saw someone standing above everyone else, we ended up disagreeing."
Loki's expression soured as he rose to his feet. He eyed Captain America with disdain. "The soldier out of time," Loki hissed, his lips curling with contempt. "You're a relic—an artifact lost to history."
Captain America narrowed his eyes. "Maybe, but I still know how to do one thing: fight tyrants like you."
Suddenly, a jet engine whirred overhead, and a sleek quinjet appeared, lowering itself into view. At the helm was a striking woman—Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, her face set in grim determination as she piloted the jet. She maneuvered it until its weapons were aimed directly at Loki.
Her voice crackled through the speakers. "Loki, put down the scepter and surrender immediately."
But Loki showed no intention of giving up. He aimed his scepter skyward and fired a blue beam, forcing Natasha to swerve the quinjet to avoid the blast. Captain America, seeing the opportunity, lunged forward, throwing his shield at Loki, following up by closing the distance between them, and tackling the trickster god.
Meanwhile, in Brooklyn, Jon, Alessa, and Annie sat in front of the television, watching the scene unfold as it was broadcasted live.
The headline read: "World War II Hero Captain America Battles Norse God Loki in Stuttgart."
At first glance, the headline seemed like it came from some tabloid desperate for clicks, but the footage on-screen was all too real. Steve Rogers, the once-legendary super-soldier, was now fighting a mythological god in modern-day Germany.
Annie stared at the TV screen, her eyes wide with disbelief. "A superhero from seventy years ago coming back to life? And now a literal god is invading Earth? This world just keeps getting crazier!"
"This is just the beginning," Jon said quietly, his tone flat and detached.
Annie turned to Jon, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
Jon looked at her, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. "Haven't you noticed the pattern lately? First, Tony Stark announces to the world he's Iron Man. Then we had the Hulk tearing through the army. After that, a literal god, Thor, came to Earth with his magic hammer. Now Captain America wakes up after seventy years, and even the Spirit of Vengeance walks among us." He gestured vaguely at the television.
"All these people appearing at the same time, and just as conveniently, Earth is now facing threats from beyond," Jon explained. "It's not random. This is just the opening act. The age of heroes is beginning. They'll gather together, facing whatever comes at them. Miracles will happen, and they'll fight for the world, their home." Jon's gaze returned to the screen, his voice calm but carrying a weight of knowing more than he let on.