Nick Fury lay on the ground, watching one of his best agents point an arrow at his head.
At first, he thought Barton had betrayed him, but Fury quickly noticed small details—the changes in Barton's intonation, the odd way he spoke, and most importantly, the strange blue light flashing in his eyes.
Something was wrong. If Fury's guess was correct, Barton was being controlled by someone.
"Wake up, Barton! Don't let yourself be controlled! Snap out of it right now while we still have a chance!" Fury shouted, hoping against hope that his words would break through whatever was controlling him.
Though the chances were slim, he had to try. Fury noticed Barton's eyes twitch, but it was only a flicker of recognition.
Suddenly—
"Urgh!"
Fury grunted in pain as an arrow pierced his shoulder, the very arm gripping the briefcase containing the Tesseract. Even though he was wounded, Fury felt a strange sense of relief. His attempt to free Barton from the mind control hadn't worked, but at least Barton hadn't killed him outright.
That meant there was still a chance to solve the situation later, even if it wasn't today.
Barton crouched down and picked up the briefcase that had slipped from Fury's hands. As he did, the sound of a car engine echoed from the far end of the tunnel, growing louder.
Barton, as if sensing something coming from that direction, knelt down, holding the briefcase above his head like an offering.
Seconds later, a car pulled up, stopping just a few meters away. The doors opened, and several men exited, but it was the figure in the center—dressed in strange armor—that made Fury's remaining eye widen.
Fury immediately recognized the men—they were former agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., now under control. But that wasn't what shocked him.
It was the armored figure.
Fury knew exactly who that figure was. He had seen the sketch in one of the reports from New Mexico, the same report that detailed an encounter with a possible alien who called himself Thor, the God of Thunder.
That figure in front of him wasn't just anyone.
It was Loki—Thor's brother.
*Clap, clap, clap.*
"Wonderful. I knew you wouldn't betray my expectations, Barton," Loki said, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
Loki walked toward Barton, who remained kneeling with the briefcase held aloft. He didn't take it immediately, but instead, opened it to inspect its contents.
A blue glow radiated from inside the briefcase as Loki's eyes fell on the Tesseract—the very object he had come for.
His eyes flashed with greed, and for a moment, Loki felt an overwhelming urge to touch it. But he restrained himself. He knew what would happen if he handled such immense power with his bare hands.
Only a fool would risk that.
After staring at the Tesseract for a few moments, Loki finally closed the case and took it from Barton, but not before offering more praise.
*Pat, pat.*
"From the moment I first saw you, I knew you'd make an excellent soldier. Keep this up, and maybe I'll make you the leader of my future army."
Loki's hand lightly tapped Barton's shoulder as he spoke. The fanaticism in Barton's eyes only deepened, his loyalty to Loki even more pronounced.
"Your praise is wasted on me, my king. I've only done my duty," Barton responded, his voice filled with excitement as he gazed at Loki with fervent admiration.
Watching the exchange, Fury was at a loss for words.
"What the hell is this? Are we in some medieval television drama now?!"
Fury groaned in frustration. "You're really controlling Barton—there's no way he'd say something that cliché in his right mind."
Shaking his head, Fury added, "He'd probably put an arrow through his own head if he said crap like that."