Jax spent the week following the God-Punch incident in intense, high-gravity training in his concealed loft space, pushing his Primordial Saiyan body to its limits. His latent Ki grew exponentially with each Zenkai boost, constantly monitored by the A.I.S.
"Mr. Ryder, your current Power Level is now exceeding low-level Kree signatures," the AI stated during a brief cool-down. "However, an external energy signature matching the Asgardian pattern is currently descending toward your immediate vicinity. Threat assessment: Moderate. Identity: Loki Laufeyson."
"Perfect timing," Jax muttered, powering down the gravity and allowing the Aether suit to dissolve. "I figured the God of Mischief wouldn't let his brother's disappearance go unchecked, especially when it was caused by an unknown power spike leading straight to my apartment."
Jax walked calmly over to his large, arched window overlooking the deserted Brooklyn street. He didn't have to wait long.
With a dramatic flash of green light and swirling smoke, Loki materialized directly across the street. He was magnificent, clad in his signature green and gold armor, looking aristocratic, dangerous, and thoroughly displeased.
Loki casually crossed the street, stopping directly beneath Jax's window. He didn't shout; he projected his voice with refined magical resonance, ensuring only those nearby could hear.
"A rather dreary lair for a being of such magnitude," Loki sneered, looking up. "I do not know what manner of creature you are, or if you are a misplaced artifact from an older universe, but I know what you did. You took my brother's hammer and sent the oaf into orbit. I suggest you return both to me immediately before I dismantle this pathetic structure and you along with it."
The Comedic Disarmament
Jax leaned against the window frame, projecting an air of bored indifference. He knew he couldn't use his overwhelming power here without causing the exact global panic the System prohibited. He had to rely on his wits and the Gate of Babylon.
"Look, 'Loki,'" Jax called down, using air quotes. "First, I'm just a guy with a trust fund. Second, your brother was messing up the neighborhood. Third, the hammer? It was lying on the street, unattended. In New York, that's called 'Finders Keepers.' It's currently categorized as a 'highly valuable lawn ornament' in my personal collection."
Loki's expression tightened with cold fury. He summoned two spectral green daggers in his hands. "You try my patience, mortal. Surrender the hammer, or face the God of Mischief's wrath!"
Jax sighed dramatically. "Fine. You want to fight? We fight. But not with daggers and thunder. That's so 20th century."
Jax pulled an object from the Gate of Babylon—not a weapon, but a brand-new, regulation-size, professional foosball table.
"I challenge you, Loki of Asgard, to a test of skill, dexterity, and true intellectual focus," Jax announced. "We play Foosball. You win, you get the address to the hammer's current location. I win, you give me three genuine Asgardian recipes for mead, and you leave my borough alone."
Loki stared at the table that had magically appeared on the street between them. His daggers vanished, replaced by a look of bewildered, theatrical disbelief.
"A... a game?" Loki scoffed. "You challenge a God, the son of Odin, to a children's parlor game?"
"It's not a parlor game, it's competitive foosball! It requires precision, misdirection, and strategy—things you, as the God of Mischief, should excel at," Jax countered, walking down the stairs and stepping onto the street. "Unless, of course, the great Loki is afraid of losing to a 'mortal' in a test of true wit."
That struck the nerve. Loki was instantly focused, his pride piqued. He strode over to the table, dismissing the few onlookers with a contemptuous wave of his hand.
"Very well," Loki hissed, taking the red handles. "Prepare to be defeated by a superior intellect."
The Match of the Millennia
The ensuing match was not a test of strength; it was a battle of wits and dexterity. Loki, using subtle magic to enhance his grip and predict the ball's movement, quickly went up 3-1.
"Foolish Midgardian," Loki gloated, scoring his fourth point. "Your skills are lacking."
"You're cheating," Jax pointed out flatly. "But fine. Let's play your way."
Jax subtly channeled his Saiyan Ki, not into power, but into instantaneous kinetic prediction—a microscopic level of time-dilation that allowed him to see the ball's trajectory before it even left the player.
The comeback was brutal. Jax scored five goals in a row, utilizing complex 'snake shots' and 'walks' that left Loki staring in utter bewilderment. Jax scored the final, humiliating goal by literally teleporting the ball (using a micro-second Instant Transmission before anyone could notice) into the goal cavity.
Final Score: Jax 10 - Loki 4.
Loki stared at the table, his face a mask of furious confusion. "Impossible! I analyzed every vector! My magic... it was flawless! You manipulated reality!"
"I told you," Jax said, wiping his brow with mock effort. "Competitive foosball is serious business. Now, about those mead recipes..."
Loki was too stunned to argue. He was processing the reality: he had been defeated by a power he couldn't categorize, in a way he couldn't explain.
[A.I.S. Skill Acquisition!]
[Analyzing Loki's Frustration. Logic Error Detected. Skill Unlocked: Minor Reality Warping (Basic illusion and object manipulation based on psychological suggestion).]
"The hammer," Loki eventually managed to grind out, his jaw tight. "Where is it?"
"It's in the custody of a very reliable friend," Jax replied calmly. "Tell you what: go back to Asgard, or wherever you belong. Focus on your actual job as a prince. If I hear about any world-ending events showing up in the next few years, I promise, I'll let you know where your brother is, and I'll even return the hammer. Deal?"
Loki stared at Jax one last time, a terrifying mix of vengeance and deep contemplation in his eyes. He realized this boy was far more than he appeared—a powerful, chaotic neutral factor on Midgard.
"You are an enigma, Jax Ryder," Loki whispered. "You have bought yourself a brief reprieve. Do not waste it."
Loki vanished in another flash of green light, his pride stinging far more than any physical blow.
The Call to S.H.I.E.L.D.
Jax watched Loki disappear, then dismissed the foosball table back into the Gate of Babylon. He looked at his flip phone, which was ringing again. This time, the call was secured, encrypted, and listed as 'Unknown Origin.'
"Mr. Ryder, the caller is Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D. He has been tracking the anomalies left by both Thor and Loki," the AI advised.
Jax answered, a professional edge to his voice. "Hello?"
"Jax Ryder. Director Nick Fury," the voice was gravely and authoritative. "We need to talk about the God you launched into orbit, the alien monsters, and the subsequent appearance of the other God. My agents reported the area was completely untouched after the event. What are you?"
Jax paused, recognizing this pivotal moment. He couldn't lie about the events, but he had to maintain his 'Trust Fund Mystic' persona.
"Director Fury," Jax said, his voice low. "I'm a highly trained, well-funded individual who prefers anonymity. What I am is irrelevant. What I know is that Earth is about to become a very popular cosmic intersection. And I'm here to ensure we don't end up being the speed bump."
"Are you an Avenger?" Fury demanded.
"No. I'm a cleaner. I'm the one who makes the problems disappear before they become headlines. You're welcome for the lack of crater in Manhattan. Now, if you want me to keep fixing the problems only the Gods can create, I suggest you stop looking for me. Focus on preparing for the next wave. It won't be as polite."
Jax hung up. The clock was ticking. He had gained the attention of the MCU's major players and bought himself crucial time. The next major threat would be the Chitauri, and he needed to train harder for the ultimate power-up.