Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

After the ever-reliable Agent Sitwell relayed Loki’s exact location, the strike team wasted no time.

A Quinjet launched from the Helicarrier, cutting across the Atlantic at supersonic speed.

Fortunately, the aircraft was fast.

Otherwise, flying from the United States to Germany would have taken well over ten hours.

By then, everyone would’ve arrived just in time to find Loki standing alone in the middle of Stuttgart, wearing his ridiculously ornate armor and waiting awkwardly for someone to show up.

"I’ll be honest."

Evenson shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"This is the most expensive ride I’ve ever been on..."

"...and it’s still less comfortable than a hard train seat."

Military aircraft weren’t exactly designed with passenger comfort in mind.

Across from him, Steve Rogers chuckled.

"You’ve clearly never flown in an old military transport."

"Those made this feel luxurious."

"...Right."

Evenson answered with an awkward smile.

There were times when speaking with a man who had slept through more than sixty years of history felt surprisingly difficult.

Steve had a habit of dropping comments from another era into conversations.

Most of the time, the only reasonable response was an uncomfortable nod.

Looking elsewhere for entertainment, Evenson’s gaze settled on Lady Sif.

The Asgardian warrior sat in full armor with a sleek tablet in her hands, studying it with an expression of deep concentration.

Her presence wasn’t surprising.

Loki had accumulated an impressive amount of personal hatred over the centuries.

He had betrayed his own people.

Manipulated the Destroyer into hunting her.

And, in Sif’s opinion, was largely responsible for her extended stay on Earth.

When she’d learned Loki had come here again...

She had nearly flown into a berserker rage.

Although, admittedly...

The barrel of vodka she’d emptied beforehand might also have contributed.

Naturally, Fury had welcomed her participation.

No one aboard understood Loki better.

And if combat became unavoidable...

Well...

Captain America was formidable.

Lady Sif was something else entirely.

Evenson glanced toward the tablet.

"You need help?"

"You look like you’re trying to remember how it works."

"No."

Without looking up, Sif shook her head.

"I simply need a moment."

"This technology became obsolete in Asgard centuries ago."

Evenson blinked.

There was a generation gap with Steve.

There was a civilization gap with Sif.

Trying to hold a casual conversation with someone over a thousand years old was an entirely different challenge.

Maybe I should get my hands on some alien technology eventually.

Changing subjects, he asked,

"So..."

"How’ve you been?"

"Bored."

Sif finally remembered how to operate the tablet and casually navigated through its menus.

"Everyone here has been polite."

"But no one will drink with me."

She sighed dramatically.

"And all this sitting around..."

"My muscles are starting to rust."

"I’ve asked several people to spar."

"They all refused."

She turned toward Evenson.

"Humans are cowards."

Evenson silently disagreed.

Drinking with you and then sparring with you isn’t bravery.

It’s a death wish.

At that moment Natasha’s voice came from the cockpit.

"Conversation later."

"We’re almost there."

Then, in a noticeably restrained tone, she added,

"Sarah..."

"Could you please return to your seat?"

"We’re about to decelerate."

"You could get hurt."

Before boarding, Sarah had insisted on joining the mission, claiming she needed to stand beside her employer in battle.

Instead...

She had spent almost the entire flight leaning over Natasha’s pilot seat, flirting shamelessly.

Sarah smiled brightly.

"You’re worried about me?"

"That’s sweet."

She happily returned to her own seat.

Evenson resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands.

A succubus reduced to this...

What an embarrassment to demonkind.

Then he remembered his own life choices.

Perhaps he wasn’t in any position to judge.

"Excellent."

Peggy suddenly spoke.

"This will be the perfect opportunity to test my new abilities."

"No."

Sif answered instantly.

She rose so quickly she nearly forgot she was still wearing her safety harness.

"I will personally deal with that Asgardian traitor."

She glared at Peggy.

Peggy calmly removed her sunglasses.

Emerald fel flames burned steadily within her eyes.

"This is Earth."

She met Sif’s gaze without the slightest hesitation.

"Earth’s affairs are decided by Earth’s people."

"That doesn’t change the fact..."

Sif replied coldly,

"...that Loki is an Asgardian criminal."

Peggy smiled faintly.

"Then we’ll arrest him."

"And extradite him to you afterward."

Evenson watched the two women from the seat between them.

One impossibly beautiful.

The other equally stunning.

Both frighteningly stubborn.

He honestly couldn’t understand why they were arguing over who got to punch Loki first.

Neither woman seemed interested in backing down.

Words gradually gave way to sheer force of will.

The atmosphere became noticeably colder.

Then Evenson glanced out the rear hatch.

"...Ladies."

"You can stop arguing."

"Captain America’s already jumped."

Both women whipped around.

Sure enough...

Steve was already descending toward the city below.

"If there’s fighting to be done..."

"...he never waits."

Peggy sighed.

"That’s just like him."

She reluctantly settled back into her seat.

Sif folded her arms.

"Why do humans keep doing things like that?"

She looked genuinely irritated.

Interrupting someone else’s duel wasn’t honorable.

So she, too, sat back down.

Below, Loki had already gathered a crowd.

Terrified civilians knelt before him as he delivered another theatrical speech about humanity’s inevitable submission.

Most remained frozen in fear.

One elderly man did not.

He slowly stood.

His expression carried nothing but contempt.

Loki’s grand performance earned exactly zero points from him.

The old man had lived through the rise of dictators before.

He wasn’t about to kneel for another one.

Fortunately...

Before Loki could punish him...

A familiar figure crashed down from the sky.

Captain America landed between them.

The civilians scattered while Steve engaged Loki head-on.

Unfortunately...

Loki wasn’t an opponent like the Red Skull.

Within moments, the God of Mischief had forced Captain America onto the defensive.

Inside the Quinjet, Sif smiled.

Finally.

My turn.

Then...

A lively burst of music suddenly filled the cabin.

"So..."

A familiar voice echoed through the speakers.

"Miss me, Agent Romanoff?"

Golden light streaked across the sky outside.

Tony Stark.

Flying in at full speed.

"Not even a little!"

Sarah somehow managed to grab the microphone before Natasha could answer.

Tony ignored her completely.

His entire focus was on making the perfect entrance.

He accelerated.

Closed the distance.

Reached exactly the point where he’d planned to unleash his attack...

Then his body abruptly went limp.

It looked as though someone had switched him off mid-flight.

Still traveling at full speed.

Without slowing in the slightest.

Iron Man spun helplessly through the air like an out-of-control missile...

And slammed directly into Loki.

BOOM!

The God of Mischief had absolutely not prepared for that tactic.

The collision drove him bodily into the stone steps of the plaza, leaving a distinctly Loki-shaped crater behind.

Silence filled the Quinjet.

Every head slowly turned toward Evenson.

He sat calmly with his hands clasped together.

Tilting his head innocently, he smiled.

"I told you."

"That anti-warlock device of his was completely overrated."

"My Curse of Weakness still works just fine."

...

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