The bridge of the helicarrier was bathed in cold light, the massive observation windows framing churning clouds beyond. The metal floor reflected the glow of countless screens, and the air hummed with tense order.
Paul Stark, clad in a casual hoodie, stood out among the sharply uniformed agents. Hands tucked in his pockets, he studied the two newcomers led in by Natasha with keen interest.
"Steve Rogers, Captain America." Paul's gaze lingered on Steve for a moment—his build, his bearing, an exact match for the historical photos.
Then his eyes shifted to the man beside Steve, who seemed uneasy. "And Dr. Bruce Banner. Been wanting to meet you. Read your paper on gamma radiation—very… bold."
Banner adjusted his glasses, unsure how to respond to this boy who looked decades younger yet carried an unnerving clarity in his eyes. No judgment, just pure academic curiosity.
"Hello, Mr. Stark," Banner said hoarsely.
"Just Paul." He grinned, then strode to the massive tactical table, bracing his hands against its surface. "Director Fury, no time for standing around. Any luck tracking the Tesseract's signal?"
Nick Fury's lone eye flashed with irritation—this kid made himself at home even in SHIELD's domain.
"We're scanning globally for high-density energy signatures, but it's a needle in a haystack," Fury rumbled.
"A haystack?" Paul scoffed, fingers flying across a holographic screen, pulling up streams of dense data. "More like fishing in a murky pond. Too many fish, too much dirt."
Banner peered at the screen, adjusting his glasses as he stepped closer.
"What if… we treat these signals as a collective and filter them through clustering algorithms?" he suggested tentatively. "Eliminate known, routine energy sources—nuclear plants, major labs—to narrow the search."
Paul spun toward him, eyes alight.
"Exactly! Add weighted calculations for spatial distortion parameters—the Tesseract leaves ripples in space. Normal energy sources wouldn't."
For a moment, the two geniuses were eerily in sync.
"I need your help, Doctor," Paul said, excitement creeping into his voice as he extended the invitation.
Banner blinked. How long had it been since anyone asked for his assistance without fear or suspicion? He glanced at the stoic Fury and Natasha, then back at Paul's earnest face.
"Okay." He nodded.
"Awesome!" Paul snapped his fingers. "Agent Coulson, take the Doctor to my lab—full access. Nat, Cap, stick close—be ready to move."
In the lab, Paul and Banner stood shoulder-to-shoulder before a sprawling hologram, code cascading like a waterfall.
"Too much redundant processing here. Simplify it."
"I'll try implementing a Bayesian classifier—boost recognition accuracy."
Back and forth they went, their chemistry seamless, like partners of decades. Steve stood by, uncomprehending but sensing the crackling energy of intellect, the gathering of something called hope.
Minutes ticked by.
Then— beep.
A red dot locked onto the central screen.
"Got it!" Paul and Banner said in unison.
"Stuttgart, Germany," crackled Fury's voice over comms, sharp with command. "Steve, you're up. The Quinjet's prepped."
"Hold up." Paul stopped Steve before he could turn. "The tin-can plane's too slow."
He tapped a command on his wrist terminal. The lab's alloy wall slid open, revealing a sleek, obsidian-black hypercar, its lines screaming the future.
"Consider this your welcome gift, Cap. Autopilot, bulletproof, and… very, very fast." Paul patted the hood. "It'll get you there before the bad guy finishes his monologue."
Steve eyed the sci-fi machine, then his vintage combat suit. For a moment, he felt unmoored.
This era… really was different.
---
Stuttgart, Germany.
Night cloaked the square, panic rippling through the fleeing crowd. Loki stood atop the steps, scepter in hand, his smile dripping with divine arrogance. Illusory copies fanned out, trapping hundreds in the center.
"Kneel."
His voice carried a magical weight, bending wills.
Only one elderly man, trembling but unbowed, refused.
"Not to men like you."
Loki's eyes glinted with cruel amusement. He raised the scepter, its blue tip aimed at the old man.
Whoosh!
A red-and-blue streak dropped from above. A vibranium shield deflected the energy blast, sending it skyward.
Steve Rogers landed firm, gaze steady.
"Last time I was in Germany, I saw a guy wanting everyone to kneel. Didn't end well for him."
Loki studied him, intrigued. "A soldier. A relic."
"Old-fashioned, not obsolete," Steve shot back.
Loki vanished—reappeared behind Steve—scepter driving toward his spine.
Steve twisted, shield up.
CLANG!
The impact rang across the square.
Loki struck like lightning; Steve parried flawlessly. Their dance was furious, relentless—Loki layered illusions, multiple selves attacking from all angles.
Steve steadied himself. Find the real one.
He hurled the shield. It carved an impossible arc, shattering three illusions before slamming into the least conspicuous Loki in the crowd—the true one.
Loki faltered, unprepared for his trick's swift unraveling. He barely blocked the shield, the force knocking him back half a step.
Then—BOOM.
A Quinjet roared overhead, blaring AC/DC.
"Hey, Reindeer Games! My turn!"
A red-and-gold figure swooped down—Tony Stark, mid-pose—only to be met with Steve's glare.
"Stark."
"Cap." Tony shrugged.
Loki's grin widened. He seemed to relish the "Avengers" encircling him.
The battle hung in deadlock.
Until—
THUD. THUD. THUD.
Heavy, rhythmic footfalls echoed from the square's edge.
Each step resonated like a heartbeat. The ground trembled.
Civilians and agents turned, stunned, as the black hypercar that sped Captain America here underwent an impossible transformation.
Metal stretched. The chassis rose. Components reconfigured with terrifying precision—doors becoming arms, wheels retracting, the front flipping open to reveal a sleek, robotic head. Blue optics flared to life.
Five seconds. That's all it took for the car to become a ten-meter-tall, dual-bladed, cannon-wielding steel behemoth.
No one breathed.
The sheer lethality of its design froze blood.
"Project: Transformer. [Sideswipe]. Engaging."
The synthesized voice boomed.
Loki's smirk died.
He stared up at the colossus, its cannon humming with energy, dwarfing even the Hulk.
This thing… radiated pure, unadulterated murder.
What in Hel's name—?
Sideswipe leveled its cannon. The muzzle glowed white-hot.
The air reeked of annihilation.
Steve and Tony exchanged glances. Even they hadn't seen Paul's "big toy" in action before. The intimidation factor was off the charts.
Loki's Adam's apple bobbed.
He could brawl with supersoldiers. Toy with armored men. Even mess with a certain green legend.
But this… this building-sized abomination?
Under Sideswipe's unblinking stare, Loki slowly raised his hands. His scepter clattered to the ground.
"I surrender."
Soft-spoken. Yet everyone heard.
Silence.
Steve and Tony locked eyes, bafflement mirrored between them.
That… was it?
The god who'd plunged Earth into chaos just folded—without a fight—because of a robot?
Something wasn't right.