Three pairs of eyes—each capable of witnessing cosmic events—were locked onto the teenager casually dusting glass shards off his shoulders.
Loki's face was a frozen monument to utter, gobsmacked disbelief. The elegant, cruel smirk that had been his default setting for this entire invasion had not just faded; it had been digitally erased. His mind, a library of ancient magic and infinite cunning, experienced a fatal system error. The Scepter—his Scepter, the weapon that commanded armies and enslaved heroes—had just… pushed a mortal teenager. It hadn't scorched him. It hadn't disintegrated him. It hadn't even left a mark. It had essentially given the boy a firm, albeit destructive, shove through a very expensive wall. The mortal had then gotten up, brushed himself off, and looked mildly inconvenienced. It was an offense to physics, to magic, and to his godly pride. His hand, still clutching the now-feeling-inadequate Scepter, hung limply at his side.
Thor, the God of Thunder, looked like he'd been smacked in the face with the flat side of Mjolnir. His jaw was unhinged, his eyes wide with a confusion so profound it bordered on religious experience. He had braced for the horrific, gut-wrenching sight of the brave, foolish mortal being erased from existence. He had expected a smear on the wall, a tragic end to a brief, bizarre interlude. He did not expect the wall to lose the argument so spectacularly. The boy had taken a blast that would level a fortress and had complained about the mess. He slowly lowered his hammer, its legendary weight feeling suddenly confusing and unnecessary. "By the All-Father's beard..." he whispered, the words stolen by the sheer absurdity of it all.
Then there was Tony Stark. His faceplate didn't just retract; it shot up with a startled hiss, revealing an expression of pure, unadulterated scientific avarice. His brain, a supercomputer running on ego and espresso, was already trying to patent whatever the hell it had just witnessed. "JARVIS,"he muttered, his eyes glued to Leo like he was a fascinating new element. "Run it back. Give me a full workup. Structural integrity, energy dispersion, bio-signs... I want everything on whatever that is."
The calm, synthetic voice of his AI responded instantly. "Sir, the energy impact signature is consistent with a mid-level repulsor blast. The subsequent collision with the reinforced glass and steel wall measured a force impact of approximately 12 tons. His biological readings, however, appear... completely nominal. Heart rate is elevated due to adrenaline, but there are no signs of trauma, bruising, or cellular damage. It is as if he experienced a minor jolt."
Tony stared, his mind reeling. "Nominal? JARVIS, he just used my custom Italian glass wall as a crash mat! That's not 'nominal,' that's 'I need to hire this kid as a crash test dummy.'"
"The analogy is apt, sir."
"Right. Okay. Official designation: 'Durable Nuisance.' File it."
As if summoned by Tony's snark, a glorious, shimmering blue screen materialized in Leo's vision, its text glowing with satisfaction.
[Ding! Quest Progress Updated!] [Hostile action from 'Loki Laufeyson' has been successfully Neutralized!] [Reputation with 'Avengers' has increased!] [New Title Acquired: 'Durable Nuisance' - Slight increase to damage resistance when opponents severely underestimate your durability. They never see it coming!] [+150 System Points Acquired!]
A fierce, triumphant grin spread across Leo's face, though he fought to keep it internal. The plan had worked flawlessly. He'd taken a god's best shot, turned it into a profit, and even got a snazzy new title out of it. He'd gone from 'random casualty' to 'Durable Nuisance' in the Avengers' internal files. It was a major upgrade.
He looked from Loki's stunned paralysis, to Thor's bewildered awe, to Tony's fascinated scrutiny. The system's points—a cool 150—burned a happy hole in his mental inventory. He was covered in dust, standing in a pile of wreckage, and had just become the most interesting thing in the room.
But he was 150 points richer.
Tony Stark was still having a full-blown argument with his AI, his hands gesturing at the empty air where Leo had been standing.
"JARVIS, run the diagnostics again! There has to be a glitch! A energy dampener, a localized—"
"Sir, I am detecting no such anomalies. The subject's durability appears to be an intrinsic property."
"For three seconds, the epic battle for New York was put on hold. Three precious seconds where the gods and the genius were too busy short-circuiting to remember the world-ending weapons just lying around.
For Leo, those three seconds were an eternity.
His [Lightning Reflexes] kicked in, and the world around him slowed to a molasses crawl. Thor's slow blink. Tony's mouth moving in a sluggish argument. Loki's fingers twitching on the Scepter. It was a perfect, golden window of opportunity, gift-wrapped by his own ridiculous durability.
'Time to get paid,' he thought, a giddy thrill cutting through the adrenaline.
His [Super Speed] wasn't a graceful dash; it was a violent, full-body lurch. He didn't run; he unleashed himself. To the frozen Avengers, he simply vanished from the wrecked doorway and reappeared as a blur of motion, a human-shaped gust of wind that kicked up a small tornado of glass shards and dust.
He zipped past Thor, the God of Thunder a bewildered red-and-silver statue in his peripheral vision. He curved around Tony, who was still mid-gesture, his face a mask of technological frustration. His target was clear: the green-and-gold god holding his ticket to the System Mall.
He slid to a stop directly in front of Loki, his sneakers screeching on the polished floor. The God of Mischief's eyes, still glazed with shock, began to widen in slow-motion realization. But it was far too late.
Leo's right hand snapped out faster than a cobra strike. It wasn't a grab; it was a clamp. His fingers, empowered by \[Divine Strength], wrapped around the Scepter's shaft just below the pulsating blue gem. The metal was cold, humming with a sinister, electric energy that vibrated up his arm.
Loki's fingers instinctively tightened, a god's reflex. It was useless.
With a sharp, effortless yank, Leo tore the Scepter from Loki's grasp.
The motion was so clean, so brutally efficient, it was almost insulting. There was no struggle. No epic contest of strength. It was like taking a toy from a toddler. The Scepter came free with a sound like a sharp intake of breath, leaving Loki clutching empty air, his expression shifting from shock to utter, humiliated disbelief.
The sensation was strange. The Scepthummed in his grip, a cold, alien power that felt like holding a sliver of frozen lightning. It whispered at the edges of his mind, promises of dominion and control, but they bounced harmlessly off the system's protections. A calm, blue notification appeared in his vision, utterly unfazed by the cosmic artifact he now held.
[Artifact Acquired: Chitauri Scepter.] [Cosmic Energy Source identified.] [Advanced analysis reveals resonance signature: Mind Gem.] [Warning: Psychic influence detected and neutralized by System protocols.]
Leo hefted the Scepter. It was lighter than he expected. He gave it an experimental little twirl, the blue gem carving a lazy arc in the air.
He looked from the Scepter in his hand to Loki's horrified, furious face, and then past him, to the real prize.
The Tesseract glowed in its machine, a cube of captured infinity.
One down. One to go.