Shoutout to Mike, Lucky, Thomil, and Awron. Much appreciated, all of you.
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"What?" she asked, following my gaze.
It had a tail behind it, glowing hot, tearing through the clouds. Looked like a meteor at first, but its shape was off. It was square. Big, square. Hammer-like.
I tracked the object with my eyes. Whatever it was, it was moving fast. Too fast. The air warped around it as it dropped lower. I grabbed May without a second thought, one arm around her waist, lifting her like a gym bag.
The impact hit five seconds later.
"BOOM!"
Glass shattered. The ground jolted like it had been punched by God. Car alarms screamed. People screamed louder. Dust kicked up in a wide arc, storefronts rattled, windows cracked, and birds took off like they had just witnessed a crime.
"The hell was that?" May asked, still pressed to me, one hand gripping my t-shirt.
"I don't know," I said, eyes scanning the skyline. 'The fuck is Mjolnir doing in Brooklyn? Shouldn't that be in New Mexico?'
[System]: Sugar, I think Thor misplaced his vibrator. That thing just landed like it was horny for concrete.
I turned the corner, still holding May, weaving past people who had gone full chicken-mode. Some were filming. Of course. Apocalypse? Nah. They needed a thumbnail.
When black SUVs swarmed the entire street like they had been summoned by a cosmic Karen, shit got weird real fast. Tinted windows, wheels screeching, doors swinging open like someone ordered too many extras from a spy movie. People started backing off. Phones went up. Panic? Not really. Just digital vultures circling a fresh mess.
A few dozen guys in black suits stepped out. Sunglasses, earpieces, the whole FBI Halloween costume. One of them approached, hand raised like he was about to read us our Miranda rights with a clipboard.
"Sir. Ma'am. Please come with us for a check."
May looked confused. I looked pissed.
"What the fuck for?" I snapped, already calculating if I could web their balls together without blinking.
The agent didn't blink. Didn't smile either. "Security protocol. We need to clear the area."
"And picking random pedestrians is part of that?" I said. "Did my t-shirt offend national security?" I looked down, it read, Fuck the Police. Well...
Another guy joined him. Taller, broader, and probably kissed his biceps in the mirror every morning. "We are clearing civilians. That means you too. Please comply."
I pulled May behind me. "If you are fucking blind, we are trying to clear away from that explosion. Let us through."
One of the agents stepped into our path. Clean-cut. Sunglasses. Face like he thought he was better than everyone. "Sir, I need you to stand back."
I didn't stand. I stepped forward.
"You need to move, Fed. Or do I need to make a scene?"
May tugged on my sleeve. "Peter..."
I raised a hand. "No. We were blocks away. We aren't part of whatever this shit is. You want to clear civilians? Start with the ones who are still filming."
The agent's hand hovered near his waist. Not quite touching his sidearm. Just trying to make a statement.
I stared him down. "Go ahead. Pull that and find out if Brooklyn's got lawyers on speed dial."
A man stepped up from behind. Clean suit, slick part, radio in his hand. At least he looked less punchable than the others. Voice calmer too, though still soaked in authority.
"Sir," he said, "what fell may pose a national risk. Any recording made during the event will be confiscated under federal order. We are to retrieve all devices and question any witnesses to prevent unauthorized leaks. Please come with us. I promise there will be no harm."
No harm. Right.
Translation: Smile for the blacksite.
May looked at me. Scared and confused. Probably still thought this was a gas leak or a downed drone. I stepped half a foot in front of her. One good move and I could web his lips to his spine.
"She didn't record anything," I said. "Neither did I. We are just leaving."
"I understand, but we must verify that," he said, eyes flicking to the phone bulge in my pocket. "Standard check. Quick process. Five minutes."
Five minutes my ass.
I could easily fold their spines and get away, snap them like sticks and web the leftovers to a trash can. But May was here. That changed the math.
"Take the phones and leave us alone," I said.
They didn't move. Just stood there with government-grade constipation on their faces.
"Please comply," the taller one said again, like repeating it would hypnotize us into obedience.
May tugged on my arm.
I sighed. "Fine."
I pulled my phone from my pocket and handed it over. May did the same. The agent took them both like he expected them to explode. They stepped back, already scanning them with some chunky device.
Another agent popped out of the van. Buzzcut. Clipboard. Sunglasses that probably had a better IQ than him. "We need your names," he said, already clicking a pen.
"Peter," I said.
"Last name?"
"None of your business."
May sighed. "Parker. He is Peter Parker."
The agent looked at me like I had just ruined his paperwork orgasm.
"Peter Parker. And you are?"
"May Parker," she said.
The agent scribbled it down like it was going to haunt him later. "Can you tell me what you had seen? What caused the disruption?"
I shrugged. "Looked like a ball of fire. Big. Real fast. Blazing."
He looked up from his clipboard. "Shape? Object type?"
"No clue. Just fire and a loud hit. Could have been a meteor. Could have been a drone crash. Was not close enough to make out details."
He made another mark on the page. Probably pretending to know shit.
"Anyone else near you?" he asked.
"Just her," I said, nodding toward May. "We were walking when it flew past."
He looked at her. "Did you see the direction it came from?"
May shook her head. "It was already flying overhead when I noticed."
Agent Clipboard clicked his pen twice like that would summon a satellite. "So, no photos, no video, and no detailed observation?"
"Correct," I said.
One of the other agents returned our phones. No damage, just wiped. Probably scrubbed for data. If they found something, they would not say. If they didn't, they would still act like they had. Typical fed behavior.
"We appreciate your cooperation," the lead said. "But please wait a little longer."
"Anytime," I said flatly.
She waited until they were not in earshot before speaking. "What the hell was that about?"
I shrugged. "Whatever fell spooked them, probably aliens."
May gasped like I had just pitched a conspiracy theory too casually for the trauma still ringing in her bones. "Aliens?"
I nodded, completely unbothered. "Yeah. Or maybe a missile. That sky streak was not a bird. Was not a plane. Definitely not Superman. I am voting alien."
She side-eyed me like I had been dropped at birth and never recovered. "You think this is funny?"
"No," I said. "But I think it is easier to joke than to cry in public. So, pick one."
Her lips pressed together, not amused.
I asked inside, 'The phone was clean, right?'
[System]: Baby, cleaner than a preacher's browser history during Sunday school. Nothing to trace. I handled it.
I was starting to get annoyed. Ground Zero of Mjolnir was not safe. I didn't want to deal with Thor, let alone Loki. One of the suits barked something into a radio. Another one waved at a chopper that just dipped too low for anyone's comfort.
I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to deal with Asgardian gods dropping their toys in my city like they owned the place. And I sure as hell didn't want to see a lightning-obsessed himbo posing with his hammer while some reporter tried to figure out if it was cosplay or climate change.
Then they dragged in three people.
Two women and an older man. Looked like civilians. No cuffs, but they were being treated like they were responsible for everything that happened. A guy in a tactical vest barked for the perimeter to be cleared again. Phones went up anyway. No one respected boundaries. Not even the government.
The two women were arguing with one of the agents. One of the women had glasses, a messy bun, and an expression that said "I have fought worse bureaucrats before breakfast." The other was tall, tight ponytail, jacket half-zipped like she dressed in a rush or during a car chase. They both looked science types. Or maybe they just stole lab coats and walked into classified shit for the thrill.
System clicked inside my skull like a MILF clearing her throat with a wink.
[System]: The one with the glasses? That is Darcy Lewis. Former intern. Now assistant. Likes sarcasm, probably owns a taser. The tall one is Dr. Jane Foster. Big brain. Big heart. Main timeline player. Both are part of your central story thread, sugar. Keep an eye.
So, Thor's girlfriends were here. Or ex-girlfriends. Or future god-fling with brain cells. I didn't know. Didn't care. I was still annoyed. Mjölnir was here. And wherever that flying hammer went, cape drama followed.
The suits pulled the three of them closer to the center of the activity. Someone yelled about radiation. Another yelled back about electromagnetic interference. Classic dick-measuring contest with technical jargon.
I took a closer look at Jane. She really did look like Natalie Portman. Sexy as fuck. The kind of smart-hot that makes you question if you should study astrophysics or just let her sit on your face while explaining wormholes. Yummy. Her jacket was slightly unzipped, tight at the waist. Will I future-cuckold Thor? Now that is exciting. Worthy? No. Horny? Always.
I stepped closer. The agents had backed off, but not far. Darcy was whispering something fast, angry. Jane kept checking the van their stuff was taken into. The old man was still staring at the crater, arms crossed, muttering under his breath about impact patterns.
They were pissed about notebooks. Specifically, the ones the agents took from their car before dragging them into this circus.
Darcy said, "Those were not even classified. Just field notes. What the hell are they planning to do? Rewrite them with crayons?"
Jane replied, "They were the only copies. We didn't get a chance to digitize everything. And they took the laptop too."
Darcy muttered something that sounded like "government pigs" and kicked at the gravel. The old guy, Erik or something, looked over. "Without the readings, my calibration is dead in the water."
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You can read up to Chapter 85...
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