Loki POV:
"What in the Nine Realms?!" Loki exclaims, his voice echoing through the chamber. What in Hel's name is he even seeing right now?
In front of him—inside his pristine ice palace—stand a horde of maybe four hundred minions. But no, that's not the strangest sight. The real problem is Thor. Thor, standing right in the middle of them, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. And the minions—oh, they're sparking with lightning from their little hands.
"Thor!" Loki screams. "What in Odin's name are you doing?!"
He feels, rather uncomfortably, like some poor wretch walking in on a scene he was never meant to see.
"Ah! Loki!" Thor booms, waving cheerfully at him, grinning like a fool. "You see, these little gremlins here—ha!—they've decided to follow me. Isn't that splendid? You have your group, and I have mine!"
"What—?" Loki stutters, his voice caught somewhere between disbelief and fury. His eyes narrow dangerously. "What?"
"New boss! New boss! New boss!" the minions begin to chant in unison, their shrill voices filling the hall.
Right before Loki's eyes, their blue skin begins to darken. Tiny horns poke out from their foreheads, their bodies shifting, transforming into something else entirely.
"Ha! Loki! Are you seeing this?!" Thor shouts, clapping like an excited child.
"Yes, brother," Loki grinds out through clenched teeth.
"This is marvelous! You know what this means?" Thor bellows, practically vibrating with joy. "You have your minions, I have mine, and Warrior Rogers has his own! We can have a three-way battle!" He bursts into laughter, like the idea of it is the greatest gift the Norns could ever give him. "Ah! It will be glorious!"
Before Loki can even react, Thor charges over and scoops him into a crushing bear hug.
"No, no, no—Thor! Thor!" Loki protests, squirming as the air is squeezed from his lungs.
Quickly, he resorts to a new trick: his back, pressed against Thor's chest, hardens into jagged ice.
Crack. Crack. Crack—BANG!
Thor's arms close around nothing as Loki splits cleanly in half.
"LOKI!" Thor's roar shakes the palace walls.
"Boss!" Loki's remaining minions shriek, rallying in panic and rage.
Loki's upper half tumbles forward, cradled instantly by Thor, who drops to his knees and sets Loki's head in his lap..
"Brother! I'm here!" Thor cries, voice breaking with anguish.
"Stop it, you oaf!" Loki snaps, smacking Thor's chest with what strength he has left. Ice spreads from his severed torso, disintegrating what remains of his legs. But even as they shatter, new ones begin to form—growing from his body in a swirl of ice and frost until they take shape as perfect legs once more.
Thor's eyes widen. "By Odin's beard… You tricked me! Again!" His face twists in outrage. "How could I fall for yet another of your tricks?!"
BANG!
Loki goes flying through a wall, courtesy of a "gentle" pat on the back from Thor.
"Oh… er… sorry?" Thor says, scratching his head, guilt written all over his face.
Today is simply not Loki's day.
Natasha POV:
Natasha Alianova Romanoff—or just Natasha Romanoff—is easily one of the most talented spies and assassins in the world. So why is she here? Walking through a muddy forest, looking for a ghost.
"Ah," Natasha sighs to herself.
There've been rumors going around that in this forest, there's a ghost of some sort. And S.H.I.E.L.D. thought it was plausible enough to send her to investigate.
She's only been with S.H.I.E.L.D. a couple of months, at best. And her only real friend right now is Clint Barton. But he's busy. After all, he gained the power of a ring with infinite energy. Of course he's busy—too busy to spend much time with her.
"Ah," she sighs again, quieter this time.
Natasha's upset about it, sure, but she understands.
Crack!
She freezes, eyes darting around. A twig snapped. Something stepped on it.
She reaches for her gun in an instant, drawing it and crouching low. Ready.
Pow! Pow! Pow!
Her vision starts to blur, black creeping at the edges. Flashes.
Bite!
"Shit! Son of a bitch!" she yells, spinning and firing.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Her shots tear through the dark, but whatever bit her arm slips away.
"Jesus," Natasha mutters, clutching her arm.
The thing got away—whatever it was. She didn't get a good look, but the bite mark is already turning green.
"You've got to be kidding me!" she screams.
And then—
Flash!
Flash!
Flash!
Crack!
Crack!
Crack!
Her mind fractures. She sees things that aren't there. Hears things that don't exist. And then everything goes black.
Hours pass. When Natasha wakes, it's already day. She groans, clutching her head.
Then suddenly, she moans softly, eyes widening. She feels… everything. Not everything, but the entire forest around her. Every plant, every tree—she can feel a connection.
And more than that, she feels as if she can control them.
Slowly, she tugs at something in her mind.
Crash. Crack.
A root bursts from the ground, twisting upward, growing.
Natasha stares, stunned, eyes wide.
She knows—knows—she's controlling it.
Crack.
Branches snap together, leaves unfurling. She's just created a tree.
"Oh, what the hell?" Natasha breathes. "What the…"
She glances at her arm. The bite's gone. Healed clean.
"Perfect," she mutters sarcastically. "I get bitten by some so-called ghost, and when I wake up, I can control… trees. Maybe more. Who the hell knows."
She doesn't even know the limits of this power yet.
"Ah."
Natasha pulls out her comms, switching them on. A faint buzz fills her ear.
"This is Agent Romanoff. Mission is compromised," she says, steadying her voice, forcing her emotions down.
A pause. Then, flatly:
"We have a problem."
Ancient One POV
The future has changed. Or rather, it no longer exists in quite the same way.
The Ancient One exhales softly and lets the Time Stone's glow fade, the Eye of Agamotto clicking shut. She still doesn't know the cause. Whatever it is, it's masking itself well—well enough to influence an Infinity Stone.
"Master Ancient One," a voice calls from beyond her door. "Are you ready?"
"Yes. I'll be there in a moment," she replies calmly.
Ah, time to teach the students. But whatever force is interfering with the Time Stone… they had better hope they're not foolish enough to set their sights on Earth. She is not the Sorcerer Supreme for nothing. Anything that threatens her world will have to face her.
Hmph.
She rises slowly, straightening her robes before leaving the room.
??? POV:
Bang!
The door flew off its hinges, soaring across the bank like a frisbee on steroids.
Screams. Panic. People ducked under counters, diving to the floor. Oh, the drama.
"Calm down, calm down!" he shouted, stepping through the smoke in his best Broadway voice. Long green trench coat? Check. Gorgeous green face? Double check.
"Calm down, calm down!" he said again, sweeping his arms like he was conducting an orchestra. Then—bam!—he grinned wide. "Ah! This is a robbery!"
He flung open his coat.
Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop!
Guns sprang out.
Click, Click!
They all reloaded at the same time.
"Now, now, now, now, now, now!" he chanted, bouncing from foot to foot like he had his own drumline backing him up.
Zoom! Swoosh!
He zipped around behind everyone in the bank, tying them up with coils of green rope that seemed to appear from thin air.
"Hot diggity!" he hollered, admiring his handiwork. "We're cooking now, baby!"
Straight out of a cartoon—that was him, sweetheart.
He strutted up to the teller, teeth gleaming like headlights. "Put the money in the bag!"
Behind his back, he whipped out a massive brown sack, stitched with a big ol' dollar sign. Classic. Timeless. It belonged in a museum.
The tellers scrambled, stuffing bills inside as fast as their little hands could move. Someone, of course, tapped the silent alarm.
"Ha ha! That's right, that's right!" he shouted, wiggling his eyebrows as the sack grew fatter. "All right, that's enough!"
He slung the bag over his shoulder, looking just like an improved Santa Claus, and made for the door.
Wee-woo, wee-woo!
Sirens blared. Police cars skidded into position outside.
Doors slammed. Guns raised.
"Hands in the air, now!" one of the boys in blue yelled.
"Ohhh, coppers!" he gasped, clutching his chest. "How ever will I escape this one?"
He giggled. Then spun.
Faster. Faster. Faster!
Until—bam!—he was a swirling green tornado.
Crash!
Bang!
Cars flipped like pancakes. Officers tumbled through the air.
"Later, losers!" he cackled.
The tornado shot skyward, twisted, morphed—
And suddenly, he was a rocket ship.
BOOOM!
He blasted off, trailing smoke and fire, into the great beyond.
Down below, the police chief stared, jaw hanging loose.
"What the hell just happened?"
"Uh… Chief?" a rookie spoke up, voice trembling. "He got away."
The Chief scoffed. "No shit."
Nick Fury POV:
"So," Nick said to the man standing in front of his desk, "a bank was robbed yesterday… by a man who turned into a tornado and then a rocket ship."
Nick rubbed his head. He had a headache today. A bad one.
"Uh, yes, sir," the man replied, carefully sliding some papers across the desk. "Here's the report from witnesses and the officers on site."
"All right," Nick muttered, taking the papers without looking. "You can go."
The young man nodded quickly. "Um—okay, sir." He hurried out of the office.
Nick groaned and leaned back in his chair, tossing the report aside without even opening it. With a long sigh, he slid open his desk drawer.
Inside sat a mask. Wooden. Old. With a faint green hue.
Nick stared at it and let out another sigh.
"Motherfuc—"
++++++++
Author Note -
In this chapter we see Thor NTR Loki by taking some of his minions right in front of him.
Natasha gains powers, and Nick Fury also gains powers in this chapter.
Also, I forgot that snakes were a thing. So, when Thor transforms, everyone else thinks it's a giant flying snake, because he loves snakes. He said it in Thor Ragnarok.
Make sure to give 5 stars!