"Wake up!"
"Wake up, Icarus!"
Through the haze of unconsciousness, Icarus heard a familiar voice calling to him. The sound penetrated the darkness of his mind like rays of sunlight breaking through storm clouds.
His consciousness gradually returned. With effort, he shook his head slightly and pried open his heavy eyelids. The world came into focus slowly, revealing the familiar face of a white-haired woman leaning over him, concern evident in her ancient eyes.
"Thena..."
His voice rasped from his throat, dry and cracked as if he hadn't spoken in ages. The words felt foreign on his tongue.
"Thena, what's wrong?"
The fog in his mind began to clear. The Eternals were created to be resilient, after all, and Icarus quickly regained his composure. The memories of his last conscious moments returned with startling clarity.
Yes, he had been captured by those sorcerers. He had fought them with everything he had, channeling cosmic energy through his entire being to resist their magical restraints. His last memory was of gray mist enveloping him as his consciousness slipped away.
Now, finally awake, Icarus glanced around warily, assessing his surroundings with the practiced eye of a warrior who had lived for millennia.
They were in a confined space—an interrogation room by the looks of it. A simple table with four chairs occupied the center. Various instruments that could only be described as tools for torture hung from the dark gray walls. Even from where he sat, Icarus could see dark red bloodstains marring the stone surface, silent testimonies to past interrogations.
He could feel magical energy surrounding him, dampening his powers. His entire body felt weak, his connection to the cosmic energy that sustained him muted and distant.
Despite his weakened state, his concern immediately turned to his companions.
"Thena, how are the others doing now?" Icarus asked, his voice deepening with suspicion as he noticed Thena's immaculate appearance. Her clothes were clean and orderly, her appearance too well-maintained for someone who should be a prisoner.
"Don't worry, they are all fine," Thena replied after a brief hesitation. "These sorcerers need us and will not harm us."
"You've cooperated with them." What should have been a question came out as an accusation, followed immediately by more urgent inquiries. "Thena, we both know these sorcerers are after the Celestial embryo. What have you done?" His voice rose with each word. "Do you understand what you're doing?"
His golden eyes flashed with anger as he continued, "You're committing treason—betraying your duty, your mission, the great Celestials!" He leaned forward, his face contorted with disbelief. "Do you no longer wish to return home? To see your people again?"
Icarus's words were laden with shock, accusation, and unbridled rage.
"I know," Thena responded with unnerving calm, her voice steady as stone. "But these are all lies!"
"What?" Icarus recoiled as if struck, unable to comprehend her words.
"Everything the Celestials have told us is a lie," Thena repeated, her eyes reflecting a painful certainty.
"What are you saying?" Icarus's face was a portrait of astonishment and denial. "You've been brainwashed by these sorcerers!"
Thena shook her head slowly, her white hair catching the dim light of the room. "Everything the Celestials have told us is a lie," she reiterated, each word precise and measured.
"We have no homeland!"
"We have no people!"
"All we have is what's right in front of us!"
Seeing Icarus's stunned expression, she continued, her voice softening slightly. "I know you doubt me. But everything I'm telling you is the truth." She placed her hand on the table between them, fingers spread as if offering evidence. "Why do you think I've been losing control? Why have I been attacking indiscriminately, even targeting my own teammates?"
Her eyes bore into his with unflinching intensity. "It's because I've recovered memories the Celestials erased from my mind."
Each word fell from Thena's lips with the weight of cosmic truth. "We are nothing but constructs created by the Celestials to protect their embryos. We don't know how many lifetimes we've served this purpose. Whether our mission succeeds or fails, we are eventually recalled."
She gave a bitter smile. "They motivate us with the promise of returning home. The reality? They reset us, erase our memories, and assign us to the next guardianship."
Thena's expression remained unnervingly blank as she delivered these revelations. "Icarus, everything I'm telling you is the truth. If you think about it carefully, you'll see the inconsistencies yourself. Just consider how many detailed memories of your homeland you can actually recall. Are those memories truly coherent? Think, Icarus. Examine them closely."
Following Thena's prompting, Icarus delved into his memories of home. He pictured it in his mind: beautiful skies adorned with wispy clouds, fields of vibrant flowers, vast rolling grasslands, pristine lakes reflecting the light of a perfect sun...
The people there were unfailingly friendly. His friends were invariably kind and supportive. His father was strong and principled, his mother beautiful and graceful. Both parents held respected positions in their community...
The recollections were indeed beautiful—perhaps too beautiful. There was an artificial quality to their perfection, a hint of fabrication that he had previously dismissed whenever doubts arose.
Now, prompted by Thena to examine these memories critically, Icarus felt the foundations of his identity begin to crumble. His face paled, and he forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Thena, you're joking, right?" His voice wavered between hope and dread. "Yes, you must be joking! How could my parents be false? How could my friends be mere illusions?"
Thena remained silent, affording Icarus the space to process this shattering revelation. His initial agitation gradually subsided, his loud denials fading to muttered protests, and finally to a profound silence that spoke volumes.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly in that quiet room.
"Thena," Icarus finally spoke, his voice devoid of emotion, "what do you intend to do now?"
"As I mentioned, I've negotiated an alliance with these sorcerers," Thena explained calmly. "They seek access to the space containing the Celestial embryo. I can request permission from the Celestials and bring them inside."
"Thena, we're talking about Celestials!" Icarus interrupted, alarm evident in his voice. "If they discover our betrayal, we'll all be recycled." His use of the euphemism indicated his acceptance of their grim reality.
After thousands of years on Earth, he had witnessed and experienced enough to understand the precariousness of their situation.
"I know," Thena assured him. "Don't worry. I wouldn't have agreed to this cooperation without ensuring our safety."
She then changed the subject, her tone becoming more urgent. "Icarus, Ajak, Gilgamesh, and the others are all conscious now. Moving forward, none of us can survive without the others. Working together is our only chance of keeping everyone safe."
After a moment of heavy silence, Icarus uttered a single word, heavy with resignation and resolve.
"Good."
________________________________________
Meanwhile, aboard the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier, the Avengers and Nick Fury had gathered in the conference room. The atmosphere was charged with tension as they discussed their ongoing situation.
"Tony, have you gotten any results from your spatial anomaly detection system?" Captain America asked, his shield propped against his chair.
"Not yet," Tony Stark replied, frustration evident in his voice as he manipulated holographic data displays with quick gestures. "We're drowning in data, but it's all inconclusive!"
"What about divination magic?" Natasha Romanoff inquired, looking toward the corner where a consultant from Kamar-Taj sat cross-legged, eyes closed in concentration.
The conference room buzzed with anxious energy, everyone on edge as they pursued their respective tasks.
Suddenly, the door burst open. Thor strode in, Mjolnir clenched tightly in his fist. His cape billowed behind him as he surveyed the room with obvious impatience.
"Have you found anything?" the God of Thunder demanded, his voice booming throughout the space. "How much longer will this take? Where are we in the search?"
His questions were met with uncomfortable silence. The tension in the room thickened as the Avengers exchanged glances, none eager to deliver disappointing news to the increasingly agitated Asgardian.
Finally, Nick Fury stepped forward, his one eye fixed steadily on Thor. "Thor, you need to be patient," he said, his tone firm but reassuring. "We're utilizing every resource at our disposal. Tony has gathered extensive data that we're still analyzing—"
Fury's explanation clearly didn't satisfy Thor, whose expression darkened with each word. He had initially partnered with S.H.I.E.L.D. because of their global influence and resources. The lack of progress was testing his already limited patience.
S.H.I.E.L.D., are you truly this ineffective? Thor thought, his grip on Mjolnir tightening as he prepared to voice his displeasure.
Before he could speak, however, the entire Helicarrier shuddered violently.
BOOM!
An enormous energy surge suddenly erupted, setting off alarms throughout the vessel. The conference room's lights flickered as the power systems struggled to compensate for the unexpected energy spike.
Every head turned toward the source of the disturbance, the argument forgotten in the face of this new development.