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Tony listened in silence for a few seconds.
"So…" Tony spread his hands, "your plan is to storm a fortress crawling with HYDRA troops, steal back an alien staff, and then use it to brainwash your old boss?"
"Sounds like a decent Popcorn Movie script."
Tony suddenly changed tack.
"But, Nick, I've got a question."
"You really don't want to call Homelander? That would make things a lot simpler."
Bang!
Fury slammed the table like a lit powder keg.
"Motherf—!!"
He finally lost it.
"Homelander! Homelander! Always Homelander!"
He paced the lab, growling.
"The whole damn World keeps shouting Anthony—and now you too!"
"You think I haven't thought about it?!"
"That blond bastard and Pierce are cut from the same cloth—no, he's even more insidious than Pierce!"
"Who do you think engineered the current smear campaign? Who painted me as an embezzler? His Vought! That Ashley and her PR squad!"
"If I go to him now—even if I knelt to shine his shoes—he'd still hand over this 'Fat Rat' with a smile, then call a hundred cameras to broadcast how he single-handedly caught the HYDRA Director!"
Fury panted, chest heaving.
Tony blinked at the outburst; he rarely saw the spy-king lose composure.
"Alright, alright—cool it." Tony waved. "I get it, you two don't mix. Then… what about the Old Ice Pop?"
He meant Captain America.
"Steve's technically Vought's head instructor now, but he's still Captain America. If anyone would help you, it's him."
"Steve…"
Fury's Fury cooled a notch.
"He's not in-country."
"Where'd he go?"
"No idea." Fury shook his head. "After he left with Barnes that day, nobody's seen them. Maybe he took his buddy Bucky on a honeymoon—who knows?"
Fury looked at Tony, a flicker of hope in his eye.
"Right now it's just us, Tony. You're an original Avenger."
Tony stayed silent; this was a colossal headache.
Going to Sokovia meant crossing borders without any official clearance—screw it up and it'd become an international incident.
"Tony."
Bruce Banner, quiet until now, finally spoke.
He stared at the Mind Stone on the screen, eyes gleaming.
"I think… we should go."
"Mm?" Tony turned to Banner. "How come?"
"If—if that staff really can control minds…"
"then maybe it could become the core patch for the Veronica System."
Banner walked over and pointed at the gem atop the staff.
"If we decode its energy signature and weave it into the armor's Defense Module…"
"next time Hulk goes rogue we won't need brute force to bring him down."
"We can use the staff's power to… pacify him—maybe even erase his rage entirely."
Tony saw the longing and terror in Banner's eyes.
He knew Banner lived in Hulk's shadow; if the staff could give him even a shred of security… The two scientists locked eyes, a silent pact only they understood.
Tony turned back to Fury, that familiar cocky grin returning.
"Fine—we're in."
"Call it payback for you saving my hide, and for World peace."
Fury exhaled, relief finally shining in his single eye.
"Then let's gear up."
"Avengers… assemble."
"Stop copying the Captain; I've got conditions." Tony cut in. "Once we retrieve the staff, I get it for two months—R&D, you know."
"Take it for a year if it puts Pierce down."
…On the other side of Earth.
United States, Nevada—Las Vegas.
A city of sin, an oasis of desire in the desert.
Inside a cheap motel called "Desert Fox."
A voluptuous, porcelain-skinned woman lay languidly on white sheets.
Cascades of Russet Hair spilled down; her eyes held soul-stealing allure.
Lorelei.
The siren of Asgard.
Six centuries ago she'd used a voice that could enslave any man, turned armies against kings, and sparked rebellion across the Nine Realms.
Odin finally intervened and flung her into the Dungeon.
Thanks to the chaos of the Dark Elves' invasion, she escaped.
Following a Secret Passage Loki left behind, she arrived in this place called Midgard.
It was paradise.
Everywhere she looked—fragile, foolish, easily-led men.
"Um… Master…"
A burly man knelt bedside, clutching a glass of red wine, eyes glazed with fanatic devotion as though she were his only faith.
The man's name was John, once a senior HYDRA field operative hiding in Las Vegas.
Half an hour ago he'd met Lorelei in a bar.
Just one sentence.
That voice slid into his ear and melted his will.
Now he would die for her.
"I've brought the intel you asked for." John trembled, holding out a tablet.
Lorelei's slender fingers took the device.
She sensed the familiar aura radiating from the staff in the picture.
"Ah…" Lorelei sighed in pleasure. "Even through a screen I can taste that delicious scent."
"Tell me, Slave."
Her voice glided like silk across John's eardrums, making the hardened Agent shudder.
"Where is it now?"
"In… Sokovia." John gazed at her eagerly. "Inside Baron Strucker's Castle. I handled that transport mission—I know the route."
"Sokovia…"
Lorelei repeated the name; she'd been locked in Asgard for six centuries.
Now she stood in Midgard.
A land brimming with desire, fragile men, endless opportunity.
"If I can claim that staff…"
Her fingertip traced the screen.
"and add my voice to its power…"
"I could control every soul on this Planet."
She watched the promo on TV: a man draped in stars and stripes—strong, handsome, bursting with conquest.
The perfect prey.
"Ready the car, Slave."
Lorelei rose; her silk robe slipped away, revealing a body that could stop hearts.
"Take me to Sokovia."
"I will reclaim what is mine."
And then…" Lorelei stepped to the window, gazing at the glittering night, a bewitching smile blooming across her face. "…I shall build my harem in this World."