Harry reached the impact sites just as Jane's van skidded to a stop near the first crater. He parked his truck behind a cluster of rocks and watched through binoculars as Jane, Darcy, and Erik Selvig climbed out of the vehicle.
"Oh my God," Jane's voice carried across the desert night. "Look at this."
The crater was massive, at least fifty feet across and perfectly circular. Scorch marks radiated outward from the center in spoke patterns. The air above it shimmered with residual energy that made Harry's magical senses tingle even from a distance.
"What could cause something like this?" Erik asked, his voice tight with concern.
"I don't know," Jane said. "But we need to document everything before anyone else gets here."
Harry watched them work, Jane taking photos while Darcy held lights and Erik examined the crater's edge with fascination. They were so focused on their observations that none of them noticed the figure lying unconscious twenty yards away.
But Harry saw him.
Thor lay sprawled in the dirt, his Asgardian armor replaced by simple mortal clothes that looked odd on his powerful frame. Even from a distance, Harry could see the confusion and vulnerability written across the god's unconscious face. The fall through the Bifrost had been brutal. The sudden mortality would be worse.
He watched as Thor blinked a few times before he collapsed once again, unconscious.
"Jane," Darcy called out suddenly, having spotted the little movement. "There's someone over here."
All three of them rushed toward Thor's unconscious form. Jane dropped to her knees beside him, checking for a pulse while Erik called for an ambulance on his cell phone. Darcy stood guard, scanning the area for any signs of danger.
Harry lowered his binoculars and started his truck. He'd seen enough here. Time to check on the second impact site before SHIELD arrived and locked everything down.
xXx
The hammer's crater was smaller but somehow more ominous. Mjolnir sat in the center like it had been waiting there for centuries rather than minutes. The weapon radiated power that made Harry's teeth ache and his magical core respond with recognition.
He parked a quarter mile away and simply stared into the distance. The desert around the crater felt different. Charged. The very air hummed with ancient magic that reminded him of the deepest vaults beneath Gringotts or the most protected chambers of Hogwarts. Ancient indeed.
He was still studying the hammer when the first black SUV appeared on the horizon, moving fast across the desert floor.
"Right on schedule," Harry muttered.
Within thirty minutes, SHIELD had transformed the quiet desert into a bustling command post. Black vehicles formed precise perimeters in expanding circles. Agents in tactical gear established checkpoints at every conceivable access point. Flood lights turned night into harsh, artificial day around the crater.
Harry counted twelve vehicles in the first wave, but more kept arriving. At least forty agents, maybe fifty. Equipment trucks unloaded sensor arrays, communication gear, and devices Harry couldn't identify but looked complicated, humming with electrical energy.
He recognized Phil Coulson as the man who directed the operation efficiently, his calm voice cutting through the organized chaos as teams moved with precision typical of the most efficient militaries.
"I want a fifty-meter perimeter around the object," Coulson said into his radio. "No one gets close without my authorization. And I mean no one."
"Copy that, sir."
"What about the locals asking questions, sir?" Another voice asked respectfully.
"Satellite crash," Coulson replied without hesitation. "Hazmat protocols. Keep everyone back until we can secure the area and assess contamination levels."
Harry watched from his hidden position as SHIELD transformed from rapid response to fortress mentality. They'd brought everything: command trailers, guard towers, and enough supplies for a weeks-long occupation. Agents patrolled in patterns that proved the extensive tactical training they had been through.
The operation was impressive. Professional. Thorough.
And completely inadequate for what they were actually guarding.
Harry settled in to observe as the hours passed. He watched teams of specialists examine the crater from every angle, taking measurements and readings that meant nothing in the face of Asgardian magic. He saw agents attempt to approach the hammer itself, only to retreat when their instruments started giving impossible readings.
Three agents tried to lift Mjolnir directly. The first was a massive man who looked like he could bench press a car. He wrapped his hands around the handle, planted his feet, and pulled until his face turned red. The hammer didn't budge.
The second agent brought chains and a come-along. He secured the chains around the hammer's head and cranked the mechanical advantage until the chains snapped under the tension. Mjolnir remained exactly where it had fallen.
The third agent was smarter. He called for a truck and heavy-duty cables. Twenty minutes later, a SHIELD vehicle was straining against its towline, engine roaring, tires spinning in the sand. The cables held. The truck's transmission didn't.
Harry watched it all with growing fascination. They were trying to solve a spiritual puzzle with physical force. It was like trying to cure heartbreak with surgery.
Dawn was approaching when the activity finally settled into routine patrols and equipment monitoring. The agents looked tired but alert, maintaining their professional vigilance even as the excitement of the initial discovery wore off.
It was time. Time for a closer look.
xXx
Harry retrieved the Invisibility Cloak from his pocket and pulled it over his shoulders. The ancient magical artifact settled around him like liquid shadow, erasing his presence from the world. He'd worn this cloak through the corridors of Hogwarts, through the Forbidden Forest, through the heart of Voldemort's stronghold. A SHIELD perimeter would be child's play.
The outer checkpoint consisted of two agents with night vision equipment, their eyes scanning the desert methodically. Harry walked between them, close enough to hear their quiet conversation about the strangeness of their assignment. Neither one showed any sign of detecting his passage.
The middle perimeter proved equally simple. Motion sensors swept the approaches to the crater, but they were calibrated for normal human movement. The Cloak didn't just make Harry invisible to the eye—it made him unnoticed by technology as well, a property of true magical artifacts that most people never understood.
He passed equipment trailers and guard posts, slipping between agents with radios and others monitoring banks of screens showing readings from around the hammer. The organized efficiency reminded him of Auror operations, but these people moved with the confidence of those who'd never faced real magic. Ignorance was truly bliss.
They were about to get an education.
Harry paused at a command trailer to listen to the conversations inside. Multiple voices discussed containment protocols, energy readings, and theories about the object's origin. Every theory was wrong, but some were entertainingly creative.
"Could be a new type of super-dense matter," one voice suggested.
"Or alien technology," another added.
"The energy signatures don't match anything in our databases."
Harry smiled and moved on. Their databases didn't include entries for divine weapons forged in the heart of a dying star.
The inner perimeter surrounded the crater itself, a ring of flood lights and monitoring equipment that turned the impact site into the most observed piece of desert in New Mexico. Harry counted six agents on direct crater watch, their positions carefully chosen to provide overlapping fields of observation.
He walked past all of them, invisible and undetected, making his way down into the crater where Mjolnir waited.
xXx
The descent into the crater felt like walking into another world. The flood lights created harsh shadows on the crater walls that seemed to move independently of their sources. Equipment hummed and beeped in electronic harmony. But as Harry approached Mjolnir, all of that background noise faded away.
The hammer drew his attention completely.
It was beautiful in a way that transcended mere craftsmanship. The handle was wrapped in leather worn smooth by countless battles, darkened by the grip of hands that had shaped the fate of worlds. The head bore engravings that seemed to shift and move in the artificial light—runes that told stories of victory and sacrifice across the nine realms.
And beneath it all, Harry could feel the power.
Real power. Divine power. The kind that reshaped worlds and toppled kingdoms and made mortals into legends.
Harry knelt beside the hammer and let his magical senses expand. He'd learned this technique from ancient texts he had come across over the years, a way of reading magical signatures that few wizards ever mastered. His consciousness reached out, tentative at first, then with growing confidence as he touched the edges of the vast enchantment surrounding Mjolnir.
What he found took his breath away.
The spell was brilliant. Complex beyond anything he'd ever encountered, even in the deepest vaults of the Department of Mysteries. Layer upon layer of protective magic, all centered around a single, elegantly simple concept: worthiness.
But the definition of worthiness built into the enchantment was anything but simple.
Harry traced the magical pathways with his mind, following threads of power that wound through dimensions he couldn't even name. The spell evaluated not just actions but intentions. Not just strength but wisdom. Not just courage but compassion.
It looked for someone who would use ultimate power not for personal gain but for the protection of others. Someone who understood that true strength came from restraint. Someone who had learned that leadership meant service, that authority meant responsibility, that might without right was just destruction.
The enchantment was a test, but more than that—it was a teacher. Every person who touched the hammer would be measured against this standard, and in being measured, they would understand what they lacked.
Harry smiled as he grasped the full scope of Odin's creation. This wasn't just a weapon. It was a forge for heroes.
"Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor."
The words echoed in Harry's mind, spoken in a voice that carried the weight of ages. But now he understood what they really meant. The power of Thor wasn't just lightning and strength. It was the willingness to stand between the innocent and the darkness, no matter the cost.
Harry extended his hand toward the hammer, not to lift it but simply to feel the full force of its judgment. His fingers stopped inches from the handle as the enchantment focused on him with the intensity of a star's heart.
The evaluation was thorough and merciless.
The spell saw his power, recognized the magical strength that had carried him through a war most people couldn't imagine. It acknowledged his courage, his willingness to face death for others, his determination to protect those who couldn't protect themselves, and more.
But it also saw his darkness.
The killing curse he'd cast at Voldemort. The Unforgivables he'd used when necessary. The cold calculations he'd made about acceptable losses. The willingness to sacrifice himself not from nobility but from a bone-deep belief that his life mattered less than others.
The hammer's judgment was swift and absolute: powerful, but not worthy. Heroic, but not pure. Willing to die for others, but also willing to kill. A warrior, not a protector.
Harry pulled his hand back and stood up, waving his hand absentmindedly to magically dust off his knees.
"Clever," he whispered.
The word carried admiration rather than disappointment. Odin had created something remarkable—an enchanted weapon that could only be wielded by someone who truly deserved it, and a test that would forge worthiness in those who failed it.
Harry heard footsteps on the crater's rim and looked up to see Phil Coulson descending toward him, coffee cup in hand and expression carefully neutral.
"Invisible doesn't mean undetectable," Coulson said conversationally. "Thermal imaging picked up your heat signature about five minutes ago."
Harry cursed silently. He'd forgotten about thermal sensors. The Cloak protected against magical detection and visual observation, but it couldn't hide body heat.
"Though I have to say," Coulson continued, "whatever you're wearing is impressive. My agents are looking right at the thermal signature and seeing empty space. It's as if you don't even exist, and there's a candle where you're standing. Except… there isn't. It took us thermal imaging to realize the truth."
Harry considered his options. The Cloak would let him disappear again, but Coulson knew he was here now. Also, it wasn't as if he had anything to hide from SHIELD.
"Mr. Potter, if it's privacy that matters, I can assure you all surveillance is off for now. You can show yourself if you wish, or we can talk like this as well. I don't mind either way."
A rueful chuckle escaped Harry as he shook his head good-naturedly and pulled back the hood, revealing his face. "Agent Coulson."
"Mr. Potter. Director Fury said you might show up."
"Did he?"
"He said you had a talent for appearing wherever the impossible was happening. Something about your unique perspective on unusual events."
Harry kept his expression neutral. "And what would that perspective be?"
"The perspective of someone who's dealt with things that officially don't exist." Coulson took a sip of coffee. "Special consultant for anomalous events. Very special, apparently."
Harry looked back at the hammer. "And what does SHIELD want from its special consultant?"
"An assessment. We've got an object that fell from the sky, can't be moved by any conventional means, and is emitting energy readings that break our instruments. We could use some insight from someone who's encountered the unconventional before."
"What makes you think I've encountered anything like this?"
Coulson gestured around the crater. "Because you're standing here at four in the morning, completely unsurprised by any of this, and you just spent five minutes, maybe even more, analyzing that thing with techniques I've never seen before."
Harry had to admit the man was perceptive. "You were watching?"
"Thermal imaging, remember? You knelt down, held your hands near the object, and spent several minutes in what looked like deep concentration. Almost like you were reading it somehow."
"And what did you conclude from that?"
"That you know more about what we're dealing with than you're letting on."
Harry stepped away from Mjolnir and walked toward the crater's edge. "Agent Coulson, what do you know about mythology?"
"Enough to know it's usually not literally true."
"But what if it was? What if the stories our ancestors told weren't just stories?"
Coulson followed him up the crater wall. "You're suggesting this has mythological origins?"
"I'm suggesting that your instruments can't measure what you're really dealing with here."
"Then what are we dealing with?"
Harry paused at the crater's rim and looked back at the hammer. "Something that belongs to someone else. Someone who's going to come looking for it."
"Who?"
"The man your people found at the other impact site."
Coulson's radio crackled to life. "Base, this is Hospital Security. Our John Doe just woke up. And Agent Coulson? He's asking about his hammer."
Coulson looked at Harry with new understanding. "You knew this would happen."
"I suspected."
"How?"
Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak back over his shoulders, fading from view. "Because some things are exactly what they appear to be, Agent Coulson. Even when they seem impossible."
"Wait," Coulson called out. "Where are you going?"
"To meet a special person," Harry's disembodied voice replied as he left Coulson staring at the spot where he'd just stood.
xXx
Harry walked back through the SHIELD perimeter as invisibly as he'd entered, but his mind was racing with implications. The hammer's enchantment was more sophisticated than anything he'd imagined. Odin hadn't just created a test—he'd created a perfect filter for divine power.
But that raised troubling questions.
If Thor was truly worthy, why had Odin banished him? What had the thunder god done to fail his father's test so completely? And more importantly, what would it take for him to pass it?
Harry had seen the threads of fate, knew that Thor would eventually reclaim his hammer and his birthright. But the path between here and there was filled with pain, growth, and the kind of humility that gods found hardest to learn.
The real test wasn't whether Thor could lift Mjolnir. It was whether he could become the kind of person who deserved to lift it.
Harry reached his truck as the sun crested the mountains, painting the desert in shades of gold and red. The SHIELD perimeter remained in place, agents patrolling with the dedication of people guarding something they didn't understand but knew was important.
Harry understood though. And that understanding brought both satisfaction and deep concern.
Because if Thor was here, then the dominoes were already falling. The Destroyer would follow. Then Loki's larger plans. Then the wider war that would reshape Earth's place in the cosmic order.
Harry started his truck and headed back toward town. There was work to do, people to prepare, and a god to help find his way back to worthiness.
The real game was just beginning.
xXx
Harry drove back to Puente Antiguo as the sun climbed over the mountains, transforming the desert from silver to gold. The town looked peaceful in the morning light, its residents beginning their daily routines completely unaware that their quiet community had become the epicenter of an interdimensional incident.
He found Jane and Darcy at the diner, both looking exhausted but excited. Empty coffee cups and laptop computers covered their table, surrounded by printouts and handwritten notes.
"You look like you've been up all night," Harry said, sliding into the booth beside Darcy and greeting her with a soft kiss.
"We have," Jane said without looking up from her screen. "Harry, I'm going to tell you what happened last night, but you have to promise you won't say, 'I told you so.'"
"Try me."
"Someone fell from the sky," Darcy said, her eyes bright with excitement despite her obvious fatigue. "An actual person. Fell right out of nowhere and survived."
"Isn't that impossible?"
"That's exactly what we thought," Jane said, finally looking up from her laptop. "But we found him. Unconscious but alive. The paramedics took him to the hospital."
"What did he look like?"
"Tall. Blonde. Built like he spent his entire life in the gym," Darcy said. "And when he started coming around, he was completely confused about where he was."
"Confused how?"
"He kept asking about something called the Bifrost," Jane said. "And he seemed to think we were servants of some kind. Kept demanding we take him to his father."
"Head trauma," Harry suggested. "Falls from significant heights can cause serious concussion symptoms."
"Maybe. But Harry, the crater he left behind... it's unlike anything I've ever seen in the literature. Perfect circular formation. Electromagnetic readings that don't match any known phenomenon."
"And that's not all," Darcy added, leaning forward conspiratorially. "There was a second impact site about two miles away. We tried to investigate, but government agents showed up before we could get close."
"Government agents?"
"FBI, they claimed. Said it was a classified satellite crash, hazardous materials, the whole nine yards. They cordoned off the entire area and won't let anyone within half a mile."
Harry drummed his fingers on the table thoughtfully. "Probably for the best. Satellite crashes can be dangerous. Radiation, toxic fuel, debris."
"I suppose," Jane said, but doubt colored her voice. "It's just... the timing seems too coincidental. Two impacts on the same night, both with energy signatures I've never seen before."
"Sometimes coincidences are just coincidences."
"And sometimes they're the universe trying to tell us something important." Jane closed her laptop and studied Harry's face. "You don't seem surprised by any of this."
"Should I be?"
"Most people would be shocked to hear that someone fell from the sky and lived."
Harry shrugged casually. "The universe is a big place. Full of things we don't understand yet."
Darcy leaned back against the booth's vinyl seat, studying him with tired but perceptive eyes. "You're doing that thing again."
"What thing?"
"That thing where you act completely casual about something that should be freaking you out."
"I'm not freaking out."
"That's exactly the problem. This is huge, Harry. This could change everything we know about physics, about space travel, about the possibility of life beyond Earth."
Harry reached across the table and took her hand, feeling the warmth of her fingers against his. "And what would freaking out accomplish?"
"I don't know. Make you seem more... normal?"
"I'm plenty normal."
"Are you?" Jane asked quietly, her scientific curiosity clearly warring with personal concern. "Because you've been asking very specific questions about my research for weeks. You've been stockpiling emergency supplies like you're expecting disaster. You even hinted at this in that cryptic way of yours. And now someone literally falls from the sky and you're sitting there drinking coffee like it's just another Tuesday morning."
Harry looked from Jane to Darcy, seeing both curiosity and growing worry in their faces.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Jane said carefully, "that either you're the most unflappable person I've ever met, or you know something the rest of us don't."
"And if it's the second option," Darcy added, "we'd really like to know what that something is."
Harry considered his response carefully. How much could he tell them without sounding completely insane? How much should he tell them without putting them in more danger than they were already in?
"Maybe I've just seen enough strange things to know that panicking doesn't help anyone."
"What kind of strange things?"
"The kind that make falling from the sky seem almost mundane."
Jane and Darcy exchanged a meaningful look.
"Harry," Darcy said gently, her fingers tightening around his. "What aren't you telling us?"
Before Harry could formulate an answer, his phone buzzed with an incoming text message. He glanced at the screen and recognized the number immediately. Coulson.
Hospital patient awake and asking about his hammer. Claims his name is Thor Odinson. Says he's the God of Thunder. Thought you should know.
Well, if SHIELD didn't know about him already, they'd definitely know now after that man had been so vocal. Sighing, Harry deleted the message and looked up to find both women watching him with renewed intensity.
"Work?" Jane asked.
"Something like that." Harry stood up, pulling a twenty from his wallet and leaving it on the table. "I need to go check on something."
"Check on what?" Darcy asked, concern evident in her voice.
"The man who fell from the sky."
"Why?"
Harry looked down at her, weighing his words carefully. The truth was impossible to explain, but maybe he could give them something close to it.
"Because I think he might be exactly who he says he is."
"And who does he say he is?"
Harry smiled grimly as he headed for the door. "You'll find out soon."
To read more, visit the link on my profile. The username is KyleVirex everywhere, so that would help out too, I guess. Thanks!