[The Lower Decks. The Piping Maze.]
Natasha Romanoff was trapped.
Her leg was pinned under a fallen steel pipe. The air was filled with steam and the sound of tearing metal.
And breathing. Heavy, wet, animalistic breathing.
"Bruce?" Natasha whispered, her voice trembling.
From the shadows, a massive green shape rose. It wasn't Bruce Banner anymore. The skin stretched, the muscles tore through the purple shirt. The Hulk roared—a sound that shook the rivets of the ship.
He turned toward her. Pure, mindless rage.
Natasha struggled to free her leg. "Bruce! Fight it!"
The Hulk didn't listen. He raised a fist the size of a wrecking ball.
WHOOSH.
A blur of black intercepted the green fist.
CRACK.
The impact created a shockwave that blew the steam away.
Natasha blinked, shielding her eyes. She expected to be crushed. Instead, she saw a figure in a tailcoat standing between her and the monster.
Sebastian Michaelis had caught the Hulk's wrist.
He was sliding backward, his dress shoes carving deep grooves into the metal floor, sparks flying from his heels. But he stopped the punch.
"My apologies for the interruption," Sebastian strained, his voice tight but polite. "But it is incredibly rude to strike a lady, Dr. Banner."
The Hulk looked at the tiny man stopping his hand. He was confused. Then he was furious.
"ROAR!"
The Hulk pulled back and swung his other fist.
Sebastian didn't block this time. He stepped to the side, moving like water. He grabbed the Hulk's forearm, used the monster's own momentum, and pivoted.
Judo Throw.
It shouldn't have been possible. The Hulk weighed over a ton. But Sebastian's leverage was perfect, and his strength was supernatural.
The Hulk flew over Sebastian's shoulder and crashed into a wall of machinery.
CLANG-CRUNCH.
"Miss Romanoff," Sebastian said, not looking back. He reached down and effortlessly lifted the steel pipe off her leg. "Run."
Natasha didn't argue. She scrambled away, limping toward the corridor.
[The Hangar Bay.]
The Hulk exploded out of the debris. He was madder now.
He charged at Sebastian, tearing up the floor plates as he ran.
Sebastian stood his ground. He reached into his tailcoat.
"Sir!" Sebastian shouted, holding up a hand. "Pause!"
The Hulk, surprisingly, hesitated for a split second. Maybe it was the tone—the authoritative "Butler Voice" that commanded obedience.
Sebastian pulled out a silver thermos and a china cup (which he miraculously kept intact).
"You are clearly distressed," Sebastian said, pouring the tea with steady hands while the Helicarrier tilted 30 degrees. "Perhaps a blend of chamomile and valerian root? It does wonders for the nerves."
He held out the tiny, delicate cup to the ten-foot-tall rage monster.
The Hulk stared at the cup. He stared at Sebastian.
The beast's nostrils flared. He looked at the tea. For a second, the rage seemed to stall, replaced by sheer bafflement.
"Tiny... cup," the Hulk grunted.
"Porcelain," Sebastian corrected. "Bone china. Please handle with ca—"
SMASH.
The Hulk swatted the cup. It disintegrated.
"Puny butler!" Hulk roared, raising both fists for a smash that would split the ship in half.
Sebastian sighed, looking at the ceramic dust on his shoes.
"I see," Sebastian's eyes glowed a violent, demonic fuchsia. Shadows began to swirl around his feet, forming jagged claws. "If you insist on being a boorish guest, I shall have to—"
BOOM.
A streak of lightning hit the Hulk in the chest.
Thor flew in from the side corridor, tackling the Hulk through the wall and out into the hangar bay.
Sebastian watched them go, the shadows retracting. He dusted off his hands.
"Asgardians," Sebastian muttered. "Always so dramatic. I had the situation... manageable."
[Outside the Ship. Engine 3.]
"Start the engine, Tony!" Cap shouted over the comms.
Tony Stark was inside the giant rotor of the Helicarrier. The blades were stuck.
"I'm working on it!" Tony yelled, pushing against the massive debris jamming the gears. "It's heavy! Like, Hulk heavy!"
"Well, Hulk is a little busy right now!" Cap replied, fighting off three mercenaries with machine guns.
Tony engaged his thrusters. The red laser cut through the debris. The rotor groaned.
"Come on, come on!"
The debris fell loose. The massive blades began to turn.
WHAM.
The rotor caught Tony's suit, spinning him around like a ragdoll.
"Sir!" J.A.R.V.I.S. warned. "Suit integrity critical."
Tony stabilized, shooting out of the turbine just as it reached full speed. He hovered in the air, breathless.
"Engine three is online," Tony gasped. "Where's the intruder? Where's Loki?"
"Loki is gone," Coulson's voice came over the line. It was weak. Strained. "He's... he's in the detention block. He... got me."
Tony froze. "Phil?"
Silence.
"Phil!"
[The Detention Block.]
Sebastian walked into the cell block. The glass cage was empty. Loki was gone. Thor was gone (dropped from the ship in the glass cage).
Agent Phil Coulson sat against the wall. A massive spear wound in his chest. He was holding a high-tech gun, smoke rising from the barrel.
Sebastian knelt beside him.
"Mr. Michaelis," Coulson coughed, blood bubbling on his lips. "Did... did the boss make it?"
"The Director is safe," Sebastian said softly. He looked at the wound. It was fatal. No human medicine could fix this.
"Good," Coulson's eyes fluttered. "Tell Stark... tell him..."
"Save your breath, Agent," Sebastian said.
He placed a gloved hand over Coulson's heart.
He could save him. A demon pact. A soul for a life. He could offer it right now. Live, Phil Coulson, and serve me.
But Sebastian hesitated. He looked at the peace in Coulson's eyes. This man was a soldier. He accepted his death. To bring him back would be... cruel.
"You fought well," Sebastian whispered instead.
Coulson smiled. "It's what we do."
His eyes closed. The heart monitor flatlined.
Sebastian stood up. He heard Fury running down the hall.
Sebastian stepped into the shadows, vanishing just as Fury burst through the door.
He appeared on the roof of the Helicarrier, the wind whipping his coat.
"Loki," Sebastian said to the storm.
The game had changed. It wasn't just a job anymore. The Little God had broken the Young Master's toys. He had killed the "glue" of the team.
Sebastian pulled a pocket watch from his vest. He clicked it open.
"Stark Tower," Sebastian deduced. "He wants an audience."
Sebastian's shadow stretched out, wings forming in the darkness behind him.
"Very well. Let us give him a show."
[End of Chapter 19]
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