In an improvised laboratory far from New York, the screens were filled with graphs that refused to line up.
Waves.
Gravitational readings.
Energy spikes with no apparent cause.
Jane Foster hadn't sat down in hours. Her hair was tied back, a forgotten cup of coffee half-finished, her eyes locked onto her laptop screen.
"This makes no sense…" she muttered for the fifth time.
She stared at the data as if she could force it to behave.
"Right here," she said, pointing. "This matches exactly with the spike we recorded two weeks ago."
Erik Selvig approached slowly, adjusting his glasses. What had started as academic curiosity had turned into something far more uncomfortable.
"It doesn't just match," he corrected. "It's the same energy signature. Same frequency. Same… anomaly."
Jane turned her head.
"Selvig," she said, "we started investigating this before the video appeared."
Selvig nodded slowly.
"And someone on the internet just showed exactly what we were beginning to theorize… but turned into a complete story."
Silence.
Jane swallowed.
"This isn't a movie," she said. "It's a hypothesis visualized."
At another table, a young woman watched the screen with her arms crossed, brows furrowed, like something was scratching at the inside of her head.
Darcy Lewis wasn't officially supposed to be there. No credentials. Just talent, intuition… and far too many questions.
"Can I say something that's going to sound really bad?" she asked.
Jane looked at her.
"At this point? Go ahead."
Darcy pointed at the video.
"This doesn't look like it was made to convince normal people," she said. "It looks like it was made for… people like us."
Selvig tilted his head.
"Explain."
"The language," Darcy continued. "It's not emotional. It doesn't exaggerate. It doesn't over-explain. It assumes the viewer already understands advanced concepts."
Jane's eyes widened slightly.
"As if it knew who would be watching."
Darcy nodded.
"Exactly."
She looked back at the hammer scene.
"And there's more," she added. "It cuts the video right when things get serious. When a government organization shows up. When the phenomenon stops being 'weird' and becomes… dangerous."
They had ignored, for now, the confiscation of their research equipment, clinging to their fragile sense of calm.
Though Darcy still made sarcastic comments about the government.
Selvig leaned against the table.
"That's not something an amateur would do," he said.
Jane ran a hand down her face.
"We've been saying for weeks that something strange is happening," she said. "And now the internet has… images."
Jane deliberately ignored her sudden, inconvenient fixation on the Norse god.
She kept staring at the screen until a knock on the door snapped everyone out of their thoughts.
Jane looked up immediately.
Selvig stopped typing.
Darcy frowned.
"Are we expecting someone?" Selvig asked.
Jane shook her head slowly.
"No."
The knock came again. Identical.
Jane opened the door herself.
In the hallway stood Phil Coulson. Dark suit. Modest tie. A polite smile.
Behind him, two agents with no visible weapons.
"Dr. Foster," he said. "Dr. Selvig. Miss Lewis. Good evening."
Jane blinked.
"You—!"
Darcy didn't waste time.
"You stole our equipment," she accused flatly.
"I sincerely apologize," Coulson replied, a little awkwardly. After all, he hadn't yet done anything that truly harmed this group of scientists.
"I need you to come with me. For the good of all of us."
Darcy crossed her arms.
"Is that an invitation or a threat?"
Coulson's smile widened just a fraction.
"A formal request to give statements. Coffee included."
Selvig exchanged a glance with Jane.
"Does it have to be now?"
"We'd prefer it," Coulson replied. "Time is… relevant."
Jane inhaled deeply.
"This is about the video, isn't it?"
Coulson neither confirmed nor denied it.
"It's about the fact that you started asking the right questions before the video existed."
The trip was short.
Darcy stared out the window while Jane mentally reviewed every piece of data she'd collected.
Selvig looked more sober than usual.
They arrived at an interrogation room that didn't feel like one.
Coulson sat across from them.
"We're not here to discredit you," he said. "Or to detain you. We're here because something you're studying… appeared on the internet before it happened."
Jane leaned forward.
"Then you know it's not fabricated."
Coulson held her gaze.
"We know it's not funny."
Nick Fury watched from behind the one-way glass.
Later, Coulson delivered his report.
"They detected the anomaly before the video," Coulson said into the communicator. "Independently. The footage matches their data. They're still dismissive about Thor."
Fury clenched his jaw.
"And the girl?" he asked.
"Darcy Lewis," Coulson replied. "A political science student."
Silence.
Fury closed his eyes for a second.
He looked through the glass.
Jane spoke with conviction.
Selvig nodded along.
Darcy observed everything like she was already one step ahead.
"Activate observation protocols," Fury ordered.
He ended the call.
Fury stared at the screen where the hammer remained motionless in the desert.
He had already dispatched agents to establish a presence in New Mexico and report back.
If a fallen god truly landed there, they would need to act quickly. Before other international forces did.
Two days passed with little to report.
They didn't seem like much…
…but in Queens, they could feel like an entire week if you were waiting for someone to knock on your door with bad intentions.
Eric stayed at his parents' place the whole time.
Not out of fear. Out of caution.
He accompanied them on small errands, took out the trash, checked the peephole twice before opening the door.
The last thing he wanted was his sister worrying.
And Susana… Susana was delighted.
"Brother, here!" she ordered from the couch, patting the cushion beside her.
Eric obeyed, like a proper subject.
The TV showed Barbies doing things that defied every known law of physics, but Susana was happy.
New dress. New shoes. New laptop. And most importantly, her big brother available almost all day.
She rested her head against his arm without asking.
"Did you know Thor can fly?" she asked suddenly, very serious.
Eric smiled.
"Technically… he jumps really hard."
Susana laughed.
Eric glanced at her.
She talked about Thor like he was just another cartoon character.
A hero with a big hammer and a funny cape.
And that… that made him smile genuinely.
Like any good content thief, Eric had asked his parents what they thought of Thor.
And honestly, they loved Part 1.
Especially Susana, who had fallen completely in love with the character.
"You're officially his number-one fan," Eric said.
"No!" the little girl corrected. "I'm his wife."
Eric coughed.
"Let's keep that at 'enthusiastic admirer.'"
Susana didn't argue.
She picked her battles wisely, and Eric was no match for her.
As the TV continued in the background, Eric carefully pulled out his phone and lowered the brightness.
MARVEL STUDIOS
The stats were…. stable.
The initial surge had passed.
The mockery had settled.
The skeptics had said their piece. The curious were waiting… but not pushing.
"Mmm…" he murmured.
Susana lifted her head.
"What?"
"Nothing, princess," he replied. "Just thinking."
He looked at the numbers again.
The comments kept asking the same things.
WHEN IS PART 2?
IS THIS REAL OR NOT?
WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?
Eric exhaled slowly.
If the river stops flowing.… he thought, you throw a stone.
He slid through the panels.
Full MCU films.
High prices. Very high.
Too soon for that.
Then he noticed another category.