Stuttgart, Germany
A fancy museum.
A bunch of rich people dressed like they owned the world.
And among them, one man stood out.
Long black hair, sharp features, and a suit that fit him like it was made just for him. He moved with a confidence that made people either admire him or instinctively avoid him.
This man was Loki.
And he wasn't here to admire the art.
No, he had a different goal. There was something hidden in this place—a rare mineral he needed to stabilize the portal for his incoming alien army.
Problem was, it was locked up tight in a vault.
The solution? Well, let's just say the key was close. Specifically, it was one of the eyes of the event's organizer, the only one who had acess to it.
And Loki? He wasn't one to let a little thing like morality get in the way of his plans.
Taking the "key" had been easy. The procedure was... surprisingly humane, at least in Loki's eyes. And now, his lackeys had exactly what he came for—the last piece of the puzzle needed to open the portal.
He could leave now. Just turn around and walk away, move on to the next step of his grand plan.
But watching these people panic, running in every direction like ants whose nest had just been kicked over... it irritated him.
He frowned.
Then, with a simple motion, he slammed the bottom of his scepter against the floor.
"Silence."
A pulse of light spread through the room. The moment it touched the crowd, they stopped. No more screaming, no more running... just silence.
Loki smiled.Much better.
With a flick of his wrist, he used the Mind Stone's power to make them kneel.
Ah, now this was a sight he enjoyed.
Looking down at the helpless crowd, he began preaching. Talking about how lucky they were to be in his presence, how they should be grateful to serve him, how life under his rule would be a blessing—
But then, someone actually stood up.
An old man. Wrinkled, fragile-looking. But his eyes burned with defiance.
"You're no God," the old man said, his voice steady.
"You're just a man with a few tricks, pretending to be one."
The room went dead silent.
"You're not the first to try and control us!" the old man continued.
"We've fought for our freedom before—and we'll fight for it again!"
A few of the others, emboldened by his words, started to stand too. Hesitant at first, but then with more confidence.
Loki's smirk faded.
His grip on the scepter tightened.
He couldn't let this slide.
With zero hesitation, he aimed the scepter at the old man. If these ants needed a lesson, he'd be happy to give them one.
Energy gathered at the tip, glowing brighter and brighter—
And then—
BAM!
The attack never landed.
Because now, standing between Loki and the old man, was someone else.
A man dressed like he had just walked out of an old war movie, holding a shield with red, white, and blue colors—a star at the center.
Steve Rogers.
Captain America.
He had arrived just in time, deflecting Loki's attack with his shield.
Steve barely spared Loki a glance before turning to the civilians behind him.
"Get out of here, now!"
They didn't need to be told twice.
As they scrambled to escape, Steve's attention finally locked onto Loki. He studied him, analyzing, calculating.
"Loki," he said.
"Surrender. You can't win this fight. Just come with me to SHIELD"
He already knew Loki wouldn't just give up, but hey, it was worth a shot, and also, he had to buy some time for the people escaping.
Loki, of course, laughed.
"Surrender? Me? To a mortal?" He shook his head, amused.
"You really are a man out of time, aren't you?"
Then, his grin widened.
"Perhaps it's time I reminded you what a God looks like."
Steve had about half a second to react before—
BAM!
Something invisible slammed into him from the side. Hard.
Even with the shield absorbing most of the impact, he was still thrown across the room, crashing straight into one of the museum's exhibits.
CRASH!
Glass shattered around him as he gritted his teeth, pushing himself back up. His ribs ached, but nothing was broken. He'd had worse.
Then, he looked up—
And saw two Lokis standing there.
What the hell?
Before he could react, one of them aimed the scepter and fired again.
Steve barely dodged, rolling behind a stone pillar as the blast hit where he had just been.
Alright that was a close one he thought to himself.
Glancing around, he quickly took in his surroundings. The good news? Everyone else had escaped. That meant he could focus entirely on the fight.
And Loki? He was so caught up in attacking him that he hadn't realized Steve was leading him somewhere.
Step by step, blast by blast, Steve maneuvered Loki toward an open space—one with a perfect, clear sky above them.
Loki, too absorbed in his own power, didn't notice.
By the time he noticed, It would already be too late.
Steve was out in the open, with nowhere left to hide.
Loki grinned.
"Now, little soldier," he mocked.
"You've got nowhere left to run."
Steve, unfazed, let out a small chuckle.
"Yeah. You're right."
Then he smiled.
"But I wasn't pretending to anymore."
Loki's eyes narrowed. "What?"
"You see, little soldiers like me always work in teams."
Steve casually pointed upward.
Loki followed his gaze—
And his stomach dropped.
Right above them, hovering silently, was a Quinjet.
And inside, Black Widow was sitting comfortably at the controls, her finger resting on the trigger of the ship's weapon system—aimed directly at Loki's head.
Loki gulped, he felt a cold shiver in his spine, being at the end of a giant deadly weapon was no joke.
Steve took a step forward, tilting his head. "So... wanna rethink that surrender?"
Loki clenched his jaw, looking between Steve and the Quinjet.
Then, with a dramatic sigh, he dropped his scepter, letting it clatter onto the ground.
Raising both hands, he rolled his eyes.
"Fine," he muttered.
"I surrender."