"This is a serious matter, Agent Coulson," Leo responded smoothly, pulling his hood further forward and adjusting the simple black, high-tech mask that obscured his features up to his eyes.
He adopted a slightly deeper, more confident tone than his usual boyish voice, a subtle shift that implied authority. "And I felt I needed to come and take a look before this... escalates beyond a containment situation into a potential inter-dimensional incident."
Coulson, still trying to process the masked child's sudden, silent appearance next to him, turned his attention back to the massive man now making his final approach in the center of the rain-drenched pit.
"Do you happen to know who this individual is, Leo? Because his psych evaluation is going to be a nightmare, and he just dismantled eight of my best field agents like they were targets at a carnival."
"Hmm, before I answer that, Agent," Leo countered, his eyes glinting in the dark. "Perhaps you could tell me. After all the unusual phenomena you've been tracking, do you truly recognize what that hammer is?"
Coulson stared silently at the large, square hammer sitting innocently yet immovably in the center of the containment structure. The electrical chaos it was causing proved it was no ordinary object, but his mind recoiled from the implications.
"I've already relayed my initial, highly improbable guess to Director Fury," Coulson admitted, his voice dropping slightly. "He's instructed me to handle this locally as priority zero. Apparently, there has been some other significant discovery in Greenland recently—something large and metallic frozen in the ice. Fury's stretched thin."
At that moment, the entire scene below solidified into the climax of a mythological opera.
Thor, his heart pounding with desperate relief, excitedly gripped the familiar, leather-wrapped handle of Mjolnir. He planted his boots firmly in the thick, muddy ground and pulled upwards with every last reserve of strength in his being.
The hammer remained utterly motionless, fused to the earth as if it were an extension of the planet's core.
Thor sensed the profound, terrifying anomaly instantly. He grit his teeth and pulled harder, twisting his entire body, the action transitioning from a gentle lift to a frantic, primal struggle. He even braced himself, placing both hands on the handle at the same time. He roared with the effort, driving every last ounce of mortal muscle and rage into the attempt to reclaim his birthright.
Above, the lightning cracked with deafening fury, and the relentless, cold raindrops poured down, washing the mud and filth from Thor's face and golden hair.
But Thor didn't care about the rain, the mud, or the watching agents. All that mattered was the impossible weight of the enchanted hammer, Mjolnir.
Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the scene: Thor's arms—once weapons capable of shattering mountains—now strained, veins bulging, thick cords of muscle tightening on his neck.
But the hammer did not budge. The stalemate was devastatingly clear.
Finally, Thor released his grip weakly. He stumbled back two steps, his eyes wide with genuine panic and disbelief. He stared at his own hands—the hands of a defeated, broken mortal—and then looked up at the sky, which continued to flash with divine, mocking power.
He fell to his knees in the slick mud before the hammer, letting out a raw, anguished scream that was not one of physical effort, but of pure, despairing loss.
The tragic, heartbreaking tone of the roar was so clear that even Jane, hundreds of meters away, leaning against the jeep on the hillside, heard it distinctly.
Jane gasped, clapping her hand over her mouth, thinking Thor had been shot or fatally injured.
Daisy immediately hugged Jane, patting her shoulder awkwardly. "It's okay, Jane. It's fine. If they don't come out in another hour, we'll drive straight through the fence and look for them. We're in this together."
Thor sank further, kneeling helplessly, his head bowed, the weight of his father's final judgment crushing him more effectively than any physical blow.
His utter defeat was Coulson's cue. Coulson raised his walkie-talkie to his lips. "Alright, performance is over. Ground troops, move in. Secure the subject, but use non-lethal force only."
Seven or eight armed agents cautiously stepped forward. They quickly slapped heavy-duty restraints on Thor, who offered absolutely no resistance. He was defeated, broken, and seemed to have no will left to fight.
Up on the high ground, Barton, the Hawkeye, lowered his bow and stared directly at the tiny, unfamiliar figure standing beside his supervising agent.
Leo, wearing his mask, turned and offered a small, friendly wave directly into the area where Barton was concealed high in the dark, rainy night sky.
Coulson watched Thor being efficiently led away, then turned to Leo, who had observed the entire devastating spectacle in silence.
"Why are you wearing a mask, Leo? This is a secure S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. We know who you are, more or less."
"Not necessarily, Agent Coulson," Leo replied, the mask hiding his expression as he glanced deliberately at a few familiar faces near the console.
In particular, he focused on the slick-haired, bald man standing slightly to the side, Agent Jasper Sitwell—a senior, trusted member of S.H.I.E.L.D., and secretly, one of the key figures in the terrorist organization Hydra and the architect of Project Insight.
Coulson, though unaware of Leo's specific target, clearly sensed the boy's unease. He immediately led Leo away from the open observation deck and into a small, empty, soundproofed room used for tactical briefings.
"Alright. Now that we're alone," Coulson said, lowering his voice. "How did you end up in New Mexico? And let's cut to the chase. I've read Norse mythology—so is that hammer really what your friend claims?"
"You've already personally met an alien race, the Kree, Agent Coulson, and lived to tell the tale," Leo reminded him gently. "Don't let your mind recoil now. That hammer is indeed the mythical weapon: Mjolnir, the hammer of Thor. Everything they spoke of—Thor, Odin, Asgard—it all exists."
"So, the myths are literal records... of an alien race?" Coulson asked, trying to reconcile his organizational training with the sheer cosmic absurdity of the claim.
"Essentially, yes. Highly advanced, functionally immortal, and powerful enough to be considered gods by early Earth cultures."
Coulson quickly adjusted his pragmatic mindset. "Understood. Why did Thor's hammer fall to Earth? Is this a signal that an alien race is about to invade Earth, or perhaps a prelude to war?"
"No, of course not," Leo clarified. "The Allfather, Odin, simply stripped his son of his power, banished him, and enchanted the hammer. There was no intent to invade. It was an act of discipline, albeit a spectacular one that involved tearing a hole in space-time near your little town."
Coulson digested this information, the weight of the new reality settling on his shoulders. He looked up at Leo curiously.
"Agent Coulson," Leo said, a touch of surprise in his voice. "We don't know each other well at all, yet you seem to trust my word implicitly."
Coulson paused, glancing around the small, empty room. "Director Fury trusts you. He told me about you—that he can trust your word, that your information is highly credible, and that he is personally keeping your identity confidential."
"Has he told many people about me?" Leo asked, a slight frown crossing his masked face. The fewer people who knew, the safer he was, especially considering the proximity of Sitwell.
"No, only me so far, and only because I'm the one who met you initially in New York," Coulson assured him. "It's classified, above top secret. By the way, I need to give you this."
Coulson handed Leo a small, sealed envelope containing a private cell phone and a simple business card with a single, untraceable number. "This is my private emergency line. If you have any urgent intel for S.H.I.E.L.D., contact me directly on this."
Leo accepted the card, filing the details away instantly.
"A lot of strange, impossible things seem to be happening lately, and my mind is honestly a bit of a mess, trying to connect mythological dots to alien tech," Coulson sighed, rubbing his temples.
"Then you had better adapt quickly, Agent," Leo said with a slight, almost nostalgic emotion. "Because you might be playing on a much larger scale in the future. Now, concerning the locals."
"Agent Coulson, can we return Dr. Eric Selvig and Miss Foster's equipment and data to them?" Leo pressed. "The things they are researching—the atmospheric anomalies, the gamma readings—aren't of any military value. In fact, they are now redundant data. I think someone else knows that better than anyone, so you can return the physical equipment to them after you've made copies of all the hard drives."
Coulson considered the logistics. "It's petty theft, frankly, and a huge liability. Fine. We'll return the physical equipment once the data is archived. But who exactly is that man outside? He just humiliated twelve highly trained, specialized counter-terror agents. They looked like the cheapest mall security guards in comparison."
"That is Thor, the God of Thunder," Leo repeated patiently. "But now, he is just a mortal. An incredibly strong, extremely skilled, but utterly mortal man."
Coulson's lips twitched in a mix of professional disbelief and grudging respect. "Thor. Right. Well, it seems we have a lot to learn about Asgardian culture and purpose, starting with him."
"S.H.I.E.L.D. cannot afford to provoke the full power of Asgard for the time being," Leo warned. "And Thor... there's a strong chance he could develop into a valuable member of the Avengers Initiative Director Fury is considering."
Coulson looked at the masked boy in front of him, remembering Fury's brief, cryptic note about Leo's potential contribution to the nascent team.
"Alright. We will observe him for now, but do not let him leave the area within a hundred miles of Old Bridge Town before his true identity and intentions are completely confirmed. He is to be contained, not harmed." Coulson paused. "Do you need me to release him to you?"
"Wait a moment," Leo said. "I'm waiting for someone else to arrive. You can go talk to him first. Try the 'Are you a god?' question."
The two walked out of the tactical room together.
Coulson immediately left to head toward Thor's holding cell, intending to begin the official S.H.I.E.L.D. interrogation protocol.
Leo, now alone, secured the simple-looking, magnetic pass Coulson had given him and walked directly toward the heart of the base—the containment area surrounding Mjolnir.
He looked at the hammer. Incredibly heavy, immovably solid, it lay there—a silent, powerful riddle.
Leo reached out and placed his small, bare hand on the leather handle. He felt the cold shock of the Uru metal through his palm.
Uru, Leo knew, originated from Nidavellir, the dwarf realm. Its unique metallic properties allowed it to store immense amounts of energy, especially magical energy. When Uru was imbued with powerful magic, it became exponentially sturdier, more durable, and could even auto-repair. However, it was also notoriously unforgeable, requiring extreme methods like the heart of a dying star or potent, focused magic to shape it.
With his energy control level currently sitting at 113, Leo could roughly sense the inner composition of the hammer. He could even perceive the immense, lingering energy of the sealed portion of the Rainbow Tree—the lifeblood of the Bifrost—still pulsating faintly within the core.
Leo gripped the hammer handle and pulled upwards.
Like everyone else who had tried, Mjolnir remained completely motionless, its weight effectively infinite.
Leo released his right hand and gently placed his small, delicate hand flat against the head of the hammer. He didn't use force; he used his energy sense.
As Leo's internal energy field focused and interacted with the magical wards of the hammer, Mjolnir suddenly began to tremble violently. The lightning in the sky intensified, cracking right above the base, causing the agents below to flinch.
Leo realized he could indeed control the hammer's structure and the flow of energy around the enchantment, but he could not simply lift it. The enchantment was a hard block against physical force. It was purely an external, conditional seal that determined worthiness, not a measure of brute strength.
In Leo's mind, it was just a big metal hammer, but of very, very high quality.
But even with this high level of control, Leo could not alter the shape of the hammer itself—the final product of the dwarves' creation remained unyielding.
He quietly removed his hands and stepped back, letting the hammer settle back into silence.
Leo looked up at the turbulent sky, focusing his vision past the clouds and the lightning. He instantly felt a subtle, powerful spying force watching him—an all-encompassing, invasive gaze that seemed to pierce through dimensions.
Heimdall, Leo realized immediately. The legendary guardian of the Rainbow Bridge and the all-seeing observer of the Nine Realms.
Heimdall had seen Leo touch the hammer.
A golden pulse of energy flashed across Leo's body as he quickly dashed into a nearby room, using his speed and energy to disrupt the spy's observation point. The feeling of being watched vanished.
Leo sighed, leaning against the cold metal wall. He wasn't sure if he could completely evade Heimdall's gaze, even with his speed. Too bad I don't know any strong illusion magic. If only I could become invisible and undetectable, like Loki.
He checked his surroundings, then activated his energy sense again—not to look at the hammer, but at the dimensional signature of the planet.
Leo smiled. The distinct, overwhelming power signature he had been waiting for had just materialized miles away.
He glanced over and spotted a figure that had suddenly appeared, and he laughed.
"Ah, the another Prince has arrived."