We retreated to the house.
There was a strange energy in the air as we walked back. There we were, Eternals, a thunder god from outside this reality, and a former SHIELD-enhanced wetworks agent. I would have laughed if humor were not one of the first things Thor had lost. Not completely, but enough that laughing did not come easily to me.
Confusion hung like a shroud around us, mixed with the kind of tension that came from the almost visible sense of confrontation. My presence here was putting a damp towel on their reunion, but I knew even if I was not present, this reunion was never going to be easy. Not with the conversation I could see on the horizon.
I pushed the door open, and the assembled Eternals filed in. In the time it took them to familiarize themselves with the home of their leader, the tension simmered down somewhat, their eyes wandering across the interior with the kind of familiarity that spoke of memories stretching back millennia. Yet it did not last.
Ajak and Ava had gone to make tea. It was rapidly becoming the go-to solution. Strangers show up, and Ajak makes tea to calm them. I would have found it amusing if the situation was not so tense. The Eternals scattered themselves around the living room, some sitting, others standing, all of them sneaking glances at me when they thought I was not looking.
I found that I did not care much for their presence.
I made my way to the chair I finally got around to making a few days after Tony Stark left. A chair that could actually hold my sheer bulk without groaning in protest or threatening to collapse. It was a solid thing, sturdy oak reinforced with steel brackets that Ajak had commissioned from a craftsman two towns over. The man had looked at the specifications like I had asked him to build a throne for a giant. He had not been wrong. I had made sure to join the creation process, and it was an interesting experience. Old Thor was a destroyer, yet I was not him. Not completely. I had some interest in creating things.
Seated in my wooden throne at the edge of the sitting room, I gazed down on the Eternals like my subjects, bar Ikaris, who had chosen to hover slightly off the ground. I took note of the fact that his head crested mine slightly, and the realization that he was putting in the effort to show some sort of supremacy was funny enough to get past my mental block. I let out a rumbling chuckle.
He seemed not to realize that the higher he was, the closer he was to the sky and, by association, a lightning bolt from the heavens.
Unlike their leader, the rest of the Eternals were more relaxed. Kingo had claimed the couch, sprawling across it with the casual ease of someone used to being comfortable everywhere. Sersi and Sprite had taken the loveseat, while Makkari stood by the window, her fingers drumming against the sill in a rhythm only she could hear. Thena stood near the fireplace, her posture rigid, her hands close enough to draw heat but not enough to burn. Gilgamesh hovered nearby, close enough to intervene if her Mahd Wy’ry pushed her to foolishness, but giving her enough space to breathe.
As I surveyed them, I could feel them surveying me in turn with quick glimpses. I wondered what must be going through their heads. Makkari must have informed them of what she knew, which was that I was Thor, yet the speedster had not been present for further discussions, the ones Ajak and I had shortly after I woke up.
The silence stretched, and the only two people who seemed completely fine with it were me and, unsurprisingly, Thena.
Finally, Kingo could not take it anymore and moved to say something when Ajak suddenly returned, Ava trailing behind her. The younger woman carried a tray laden with cups while Ajak held a large ceramic teapot.
“Heavens bless you, Ajak. I fear what would have happened if you had taken a second longer.”
Ajak let out a brief chuckle as she settled into her usual chair by the fireplace and took a long breath before speaking. “I understand, Kingo. We have not seen each other in a long time, so some level of tension is expected. I suppose you are all wondering why I called you here.”
“That would be an understatement,” Ikaris said, his Scottish brogue cutting through the quiet. “You divide us, scatter us to the far corners with little to no communication for centuries, Ajak. Then, suddenly we get a surprising visit from Makkari, saying you need us all to come home. That there have been complications.”
Ajak nodded slowly, a fragile smile on her face as her hands wrapped around her cup of tea. It was strange seeing her like this. This sense of fragility. This nervousness. This was not the Ajak I knew, yet I understood. This conversation was not going to be easy.
“You are right. There is no excuse for dividing the group other than my attempt at ensuring each and every one of you had the chance to exercise your free will,” she said in a tone that did not brook disagreement, silencing the next words that almost slipped from Ikaris’ lips. “Like I said, there have been complications. The world as we know it has changed. You have all felt it, or even seen it, I am sure. The emergence of new beings, new powers, new threats that do not fit our understanding of this planet.”
“The Avengers, right,” Kingo offered. “I have been following their exploits. Fascinating, really. Alien invasions, artificial intelligence gone rogue, enhanced individuals popping up everywhere. I almost auditioned for a documentary about them, but my manager talked me out of it.”
“It is more than that,” Ajak continued. “Those changes were planned for, expected, and projected millennia before now. No, I speak of the more recent changes. The world we knew, the world we were sent to protect and nurture, is no longer the same. With it, our mission has become complicated.”
Sersi leaned forward, her sharp features creasing with concern. “Complicated how? Unless I missed something, these new changes do not affect us. Yes, it is strange and fascinating, the magic, the creatures, even the people. However, there is one thing that has not been spotted. Deviants. Until they show themselves, I don't believe this changes anything, for us at least.”
Sprite shifted in her seat, her young face scrunched with curiosity. “Before we get into complications and all of that, can we talk about the literal elephant in the room?” She gestured at me. “Makkari said Thor was here, and I have missed him, yet I think even for gods, growing an extra two feet and a different hair shade cannot be handwaved as simple puberty.”
Sprite’s intrusion injected some humor into the room, and after a brief round of chuckles, Ajak took over. “You are right. Makkari had not gotten the full details before she left. In truth, this is Thor Odinson, yes, but not the one we know. He is from a parallel reality, one that seems to have met us centuries past, just as we met the Thor of this reality.”
There were raised brows all around, but like the first time I told Ajak, the rest of the team did not seem all that surprised. Gilgamesh spoke next. “So he is from a parallel Earth. Does that have something to do with a forest growing around our cabin in the desert?”
Before I could answer, Sprite spoke again, her words rushing out. “What were we like there? Did I…” She hesitated, hope fighting embarrassment in her eyes. “Did I grow up?”
I looked at her for a long moment, considering how much to say. I knew of her insecurities, insecurities that had pushed her to join Ikaris when the Eternals fought among themselves to stop Tiamut’s emergence. “Yes,” I said, fudging the truth. It was not a lie.
I turned to the rest of them. “That is the only difference. The rest of you were the same. Abilities, purpose, and predicament.”
“And did we succeed?” Thena’s voice cut through the levity, her golden eyes on me. “In stopping the Deviants?”
“Aye,” I said. Then I turned to Ikaris. “But the Deviants were never the real threat.”
That was enough to bring the room to a halt. Ikaris' eyes widened in realization, Kingo and Sprite looked confused, Makkari had a look in her eyes that said she had an inkling of an idea of where this conversation was going, and Gilgamesh's hand moved to rest on Thena's shoulder, a gesture of both comfort and readiness.
"Are you finally going to speak the truth to the rest of them, Ajak?" Ikaris said with a scowl.
Ajak glanced at me, and I gave nothing away other than a flat stare, and even with that, she understood. I could've left, yet I remained to give her strength. However, this was her story to tell. She'd been carrying the weight of it for seven thousand years. She would be the one to tell it.
"I will," Ajak said with a nod, "but first of all, I would ask about the others. Druig and Phastos. Where are they?"
"Druig refused to speak to us, and Phastos has built something for himself. A family, one we didn't want to pull him from," Sersi explained, and Ajak nodded in understanding.
"Fine, I suppose it is finally time."
"But before we continue, this is a matter for the Eternals. Not some strange human, and especially not some strange Asgardian," Ikaris said, his eyes bright and on me.
The tension in the room spiked, and I let out a slow, rumbling laugh that shook the window panes in the building.
"Remove me if you can."
Ikaris' scowl turned into a full-blown frown, but before he could speak, Ajak silenced him with a clap of her hand.
"Odinson shall stay, and that is final."
Ikaris' frown eased as he turned away from me. Ajak let out a tired sigh as she continued.
"If there is nothing else, I shall begin. You all know why Arishem sent us to this planet," Ajak began, her voice steady but heavy. "To protect humanity from the Deviants. To allow their civilization to flourish and grow without undue influence. What I never told you, what I was forbidden from telling you, is the why."
The room went still. Even Makkari stopped her drumming.
"We were never protectors," Ajak said quietly, her voice somehow still loud in the sudden void of silence. "In truth, we were farmers. Gardeners, tending to a crop. Humanity's purpose, the reason we were tasked with ensuring their survival and advancement, is to provide the energy necessary for a Celestial, a being much like Arishem, to be born. There is one growing in the heart of this planet. Its name is Tiamut. And when the world's population reaches the necessary threshold, when enough intelligent life has generated enough energy, Tiamut will emerge. The Earth will be destroyed in the process, and humanity will be wiped out to birth a new Celestial, while we would leave, our purpose done, and go off to another world to repeat the cycle once again."
The silence that followed was deafening in its totality.
Sprite was the first to break it, her young voice cracking. "You're joking."
"I'm not."
"Seven thousand years," Sersi whispered, her cup trembling in her hands. "Seven thousand years we've been here. Protecting them. Loving them. And you're trying to tell us that it was all... what? A lie?"
"Not a lie," Ajak said, and there was pain in her voice now. "Our care for humanity is real. Our desire to protect them is real. But our purpose, the mission Arishem gave us, that was always about the Emergence. I am sorry the truth has to come this way. It is the burden of the Prime Eternal, and one I have shared previously."
Sersi flung her cup to the side and stood up in anger, then rounded on Ikaris at once. "You knew! That was why you pulled back all those centuries ago. You used to love them the most, then all of a sudden the sight of them was enough to turn you into a hermit."
Ikaris used silence as his shield.
Gilgamesh's face was cool. There was no anger in him for me to spot, no sadness, no rage. He simply stood calmly, taking in the information that had been fed to him. "All those people we saved. All those Deviants we fought. It was just to fatten them up for slaughter?" His question was almost innocent, if not for the undertone he spoke with.
"That was what I experienced," Thena said softly, her voice somehow even more empty than Gilgamesh's. "That is what I suffer. I see a world I love burn, a family I made die in volcanic flames, over and over and over. That is what the Mahd Wy'ry is in truth, isn't it, Ajak? That is what you've kept from me." She finished with a hiss, and only Gilgamesh's hand on her shoulders stopped her.
The tension in the air rose as her eyes went white and she stilled. Yet that was it. She remained in place before she suddenly fell to her knees, tears leaving her eyes, even if her face was as blank as stone, as she was once again trapped in memories that had been wiped incorrectly, memories of the past worlds they had brought to ruin.
Kingo set his cup down with a sharp clink. "So what? We just let it happen? Let billions die so some cosmic god-baby can be born?"
"That was the plan," Ajak said, but her eyes were on Thena, and I could see the pain in them, brown eyes clouded by unshed tears. "Until the world changed. Until things stopped making sense according to the old rules."
She let out a shaky breath before straightening up and centering herself. "The merging of realities, dimensions, whatever you want to call it, has introduced variables we did not account for. A bigger Earth. New humans unplanned for. Beings from other worlds. Magic that shouldn't exist. The calculations Arishem made, the timeline he set, all of it has been thrown into chaos."
"Which brings us to the question," Ikaris said, his voice cold and measured. "What do we do about it?"
Ajak met his gaze. "Nothing. Arishem will contact me sooner or later when the Emergence doesn't happen, and I will tell him why. The world has grown too big. It would take Tiamut another few millennia to emerge, so we do nothing, and in doing nothing, we shall save humanity."
"That's treason," Ikaris said flatly.
"That's mercy," Ajak shot back.
I rested my head in the palm of my hand as I watched the duo argue and lock wills. Sprite looked between them, confused and frightened. Sersi's face had gone pale. Kingo was unusually quiet, his usual bravado stripped away. Makkari's eyes were wide, her hands still. Thena was lost in her mind, and Gilgamesh looked at the scene with calm eyes.
Ikaris took a floating step forward. "You're talking about betraying Arishem."
"I'm talking about choosing the people we've spent seven millennia protecting over a mission that will destroy them," Ajak said, her voice firm. "I'm talking about free will, Ikaris. About making our own choices. That was why I let all of you go centuries ago, so you could grow, learn, and gain the capacity to think independently instead of waiting for nuggets of Arishem's wisdom."
"We don't have free will, Ajak," Ikaris said with a scowl as he drifted lower. "We have programming. We have a purpose. And our purpose is the Emergence. Yet here you talk about spitting in the face of the being who created us, about casting our purpose to the side. We should be looking for a solution to ensure the Emergence continues as planned."
"Even if it means genocide?" Sersi asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"They're not our people," Ikaris argued, and there was something harder in his tone as he turned to his former lover. "They never were. We were never meant to be part of their world, Sersi. We were meant to be shepherds, guiding them to their ultimate purpose."
Kingo turned to him. "We've fought beside humans, watched them build civilizations from nothing, and I've lived with them, worked with generations of them. I understand you, Ikaris, I really do. Arishem's will is law, but surely you understand the hesitation."
"No, I do not. Not from the moment I understood our true goal here. I've learned that they're, in truth, means to an end," Ikaris replied coolly. "And the new humans, the monsters, the so-called heroes, they're no different from Deviants. Aberrations. Threats to the natural order."
Bhadump.
I felt my heart kick to life as the first scent of ozone filled the air. This whole thing was like a scripted drama, one I had seen coming from far away, and yet, like someone staring at a horse on fire and running over the edge of a cliff in a desperate bid to quench it, I could do nothing but watch.
"And that's how we'll treat them," Ikaris continued, his voice taking on the quality of a zealot as he turned to the others. "We treat them and the lands they brought with them like a virus. We'll eliminate the threats. We'll cull the aberrations. We scorch the lands, and finally, we'll return things to how they were supposed to be before this nonsense happened. And then Tiamut will emerge as planned. And finally, our duty will come to an end."
"You can't be serious," Ajak said, horror on her face at the realization of what Ikaris had turned into.
"I've never been more serious." Ikaris turned to Ajak. "You said the world has changed. You're right. But that doesn't mean our mission has. If anything, it's more important than ever. We need to correct the imbalance. Remove the variables. And if that means killing a few thousand humans or alien refugees, so be it."
Gilgamesh shifted to his full height. He was not as tall as I, but he was nearly as bulky. "Do you hear yourself, Ikaris? Do you believe yourself to be thinking straight, or is this the beginning of the Mahd Wy'ry?"
"I do," Ikaris shot back. "In fact, I think I'm the only one thinking straight here, while the rest of you are stuck in the mire of indecision." He pointed at Kingo and Makkari.
"Cowardice." He gestured at Sprite.
"Delusion." He singled out Sersi.
"Madness." He finished with a glare at Ajak.
"I'm the only one with the sense and the power to do what is right."
He finished his rant nearly out of breath, and as he panted for air midair, his hair scattered and ruffled, his lungs working overtime to take in new air, the room descended into silence once more.
"I tire of this charade," I broke the silence with a grumble as I moved to stand. With the gaze of everyone else on me, I stood up.
"From the moment I met you, I knew I was going to have to kill you."
Only then did Ikaris turn to face me, and for the first time since he'd arrived, he smiled. It was a cold, condescending thing. "You can try, Odinson. But you're not the Thor I've met, and if you think I've any reason to be worried, you ar—"
He didn't get to finish.
My hand moved faster than thought, instinct and fury combining into a single motion. The backhand slap caught him across the jaw with enough force to lift him off his feet and send him hurtling through the wall. Wood exploded. Plaster turned to dust. Ikaris became a missile, his body tearing through the exterior wall and continuing on, sailing across the grassland in a tumbling arc that didn't stop until he slammed into the hillside a quarter mile away.
The house shook. Dust rained from the ceiling. A gaping hole now existed where the wall had been, letting in the afternoon breeze.
I pushed my chair to the side, brushing splinters off my shirt. Then I turned to Ajak.
"Forgive me, Ajak."
Then I stepped out of the building, on my way to kill an Eternal.
A/N: I really need to figure out a discord atp.