Chapter Text
Prince Melanthious Skoteinos Chthonas de Grèce gripped the handrail of Greece’s new Hippocampus-Class II Luxury Destroyer Transport, a craft to carry the royal family of Greece, a enormous luxury yacht outfitted with high-powered lasers mounted beneath the deck, sonic weapons all along the side, Phalanx CIWS systems and water jets powering the ship so powerful he could blast himself all the way back to Athens if he wanted to. These were enormous crafts, blindingly white, sleek, with sharp corners and windows tinted bronze. Each had three levels, and was one hundred and twenty meters long. These were designed to provide Greece with luxury transports, capable of keeping the royal family and other politicians happy, while providing (in Melanthious’s) a ludicrous amount of safety.
However, Melanthious felt anything but. He absolutely hated the ocean, and every single time he went on it, he could swear the sea was rocking his boat and his only. He looked around. Sure enough, the other Hippocampus yachts and escorts, in a diamond-shaped formation were sailing on cool, calm water, while his, rocked from side-to-side, just enough to turn his face green, despite traveling at fifty knots. He silently cursed the ocean. He had requested to have his own yacht to get away from his father, that Κοπρίτης Mπεκρής, always indulging in wine, and strutting around like a Κόκορας χωρίς κοτέτσι. He understood why his mother had married that Κοπρίτης.
Melanthious cherished solitary time, often walking in the dark treasure vaults of the palace, or sitting in a shadowy corner of the library. The good thing about being away from his mother and father was that he was away from them. The bad thing on the other hand, was that whenever he was on the flagship of the luxury fleet, the Poseidon, where his mother and father were, he never got seasick.
Suddenly, the boat gave a sudden lurch. And so, the His Royal Highness, The Prince of Greece, bent over the railing, a sickly shade of green, and hurled his breakfast into the Atlantic.
A server stationed on the second floor mentally sighed. He did not want to be the one telling the volatile chef that a house’s-worth of food had gone straight into the ocean. A small house, mind you, but still, a house.
In the moment of what Melanthious knew was temporary relief (from experience), he mentally prepared himself for the challenge … or, more accurately, mission ahead that he had. His grandad (the king) had convinced his mom to go to New York to help with disaster relief. His father, that Βάρος της γης , was already nagging to go, begging to meet his “idol”, Tony Stark. And so, Melanthious also needed to go.
He was to go to the Stark victory party (to the disappointment of his excuse of a father), while his mother and father were to go distribute supplies, money, and make the public like the Greeks better.
The worst part was how his father’s repulsive fanatism of Stark was how he actively tried to emulate him. He mimicked all of Stark's worst qualities with absolutely none of the redeeming genius or charm. He tried to copy Stark's fast-talking, casual arrogance, but on him, it just sounded like desperate, sleazy entitlement. He treated everyone around him—servants, guards, politicians—with an obnoxious, condescending flippancy like a Φουσκωμένο παγώνι, treating the ancient royal court as if it were his personal playground. He ran his mouth constantly, interrupting serious state briefings with cheap, self-absorbed remarks, entirely convinced he was the smartest, wittiest man in Europe. Άχρηστε he muttered. He cursed his father under his breath, that Ξεφτίλα. Words unfit for a prince, but who was there to witness it? (apart from the 30 or so crew members on board, of course.)
He scowled and sub-consciously rubbed his bracelet of a black diamond, set into his rhodium-plated silver bracelet, feeling the smoothness of the largest facet. The bracelet had been passed down the line of kings, and since his grandfather only had a daughter, he, the grandson got the bracelet.
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In the Hades cabin, Nico woke up frowning. He had a nightmare-less night. Not that he didn’t like it, (especially after comparing how many times he woke up at night) but it was unusual. Demigods always had dreams. He also felt a strange sensation, like a running from his navel towards the Atlantic, but it soon disappeared. He brushed it off as some god messing with him.
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As the fleet of two yachts and five destroyers docked at Chelsea piers (why Americans named a dock after a town in England he would never know) As SHIELD operatives came on board and evaluated them and the ship, he waited in the main cabin, looking bored, but running thousands of insults he was itching to use on the avengers.
The sound thunks sounded from the doorway, and he didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.
Alexandros, Διευθυντής Προσωπικής Ασφάλειας του Πρίγκιπα, stood in the doorway, clad in a dark blue suit, with the Greek coat of arms monogrammed on his otherwise white tie. He stood atop a pair of long, thick mechanical legs, almost like stilts, which were attached to the main body of the exoskeleton.
From his back, came two pairs of arms, each with silicone hands on the ends, perfectly replicating a real human hands (but bigger, of course). One pair controlled by his movements, through a elbow-high glove, detecting his every move. The other by an sentient AI that the soldiers spent their entire lives with, both as a companion and a tutor. The entirety of the Talos Exo-Suit gleamed bronze, a remainder of the ancient military weapons of Greece, re-lived through this powerful exoskeleton.
“Αλέξανδρος.”
“Υψηλότατε.”
“Τι νέα; Τελείωσαν επιτέλους αυτοί οι ενοχλητικοί πράκτορες της S.H.I.E.L.D. το παιχνίδι τους με τους ντετέκτιβ ή ακόμα ψάχνονται;”
“Μάλιστα, Υψηλότατε. Μας έδωσαν άδεια να αποβιβαστούμε.”
Melanthious nodded, and left the room, his head of security behind him.
As he walked towards the gangway, intense camera flashes went off, along with the annoying, nagging voice of reporters. It was even worse in America, where the reporters were like rabid animals, fighting for the front, and shouting questions.
He briefly considered turning the laser systems on the reporters, but that would probably be against the purpose of the trip.
“Your Highness! Is it true that Greece has offered to rebuild parts of Manhattan?”
“Prince Melanthious! Is it true that your yacht is armed?”
“Your Highness, do you consider the Avengers heroes?”
“YOUR HIGHNESS! ARE YOU SEEING ANYONE?”
Now he really wanted to use the laser weapon right beneath the stern deck.
He glared at the reporter, who promptly shrunk back into the crowd, along with everyone adjacent to him.
And as if he hadn’t given sufficient warning (and glaring) to not ask about his relationships, came another tabloid reporter:
“PRINCE MELANTHIOUS! IS IT TRUE YOU HATE YOUR OWN FATHER?”
Melanthious stiffened for a split second, but Alexandros recognised it. Someone had said something sufficiently stupid.
Melanthious glared at him.
“I am reconsidering the Geneva Conventions.”
There was a brief silence, followed by some reporters laughing nervously.
Alexandros sighed.
“Your Highness.”
“What?”
“You cannot threaten journalists with international law.”
“I meant that metaphorically.”
“Good.”
Melanthious glanced back at the reporter.
“Mostly.”
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Inside the command bridge of the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier, the atmosphere was filled with absolute chaos.
The soft, rhythmic electronic chimes of the amphitheatre had ceased. Amber emergency lights flashed across the glass floor panels, illuminating the frantic movements of thirty tier-one analysts. Half of the holographic workstations were completely dark, fried by a sudden power surge. Hyper-focused tech officers typed frantically, running code diagnostic scripts to restore the damaged satellite links. At the center of the room, the master holotable flickered weakly, its rotating wireframe model of the North Atlantic grid violently glitching with digital noise.
Nick Fury stood over the table, his single eye narrowed into a slit of absolute rage. His leather trench coat cast a long shadow across the console as he braced both hands against the metallic frame. The air inside the bridge smelled sharply of ozone, burnt plastic, and overloaded server racks.
"I am standing in a three-billion-dollar airborne fortress," Fury said, his voice a dangerous, gravelly whisper that carried clearly over the rumble of the carrier's massive turbine engines. "We just spent months harvesting Chitauri technology from the streets of Manhattan to ensure our global surveillance network is infallible. Somebody explain to me why I am looking at a total tracking blackout over the East River."
"Sir, it was an unprecedented energy spike," Agent Maria Hill reported immediately, stepping down into the sunken command pit. She held a backup glass tablet, her expression grim. "The telemetry from Clint’s Quinjet dumped its final diagnostic before the black box fried. The target—Bogey-9081—triggered a localized atmospheric ionization event."
"English, Hill. Save the science report for the World Security Council."
"The kid on the bronze dragon threw a tin can into the sky, sir," Hill said flatly. "Our sensors registered a massive chemical explosion of magnesium and phosphorus. The secondary wave was a kinetic-electromagnetic shockwave fuelled by an unidentifiable heavy metal. The radioactive decay profile does not match anything on our periodic table. The burst caused a complete blowout of the ultraviolet spectrum, physically melting the quantum-encrypted nodes on our primary orbital array."
Fury slowly straightened up, his fists clenching at his sides. "A tin can. A teenager on a mechanical pigeon just disabled two stealth Quinjets and blinded a multi-billion-dollar orbital asset using household baking ingredients and a piece of scrap metal."
"We are already attempting to orbital-shift our undamaged deep-space surveillance satellites over the Atlantic corridor," Hill added, tapping the tablet to redirect the automated thruster vectors of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s backup spy network.
"But the localized thermal bloom is creating massive atmospheric interference. The secondary sensors are picking up a lingering, anomalous radiation signature. Sir, the energy wavelength is almost identical to the massive explosion of unknown radiation we flagged in late-August over Long Island."
Fury’s single eye locked onto her. The memory of that late-August anomaly was a thorn in his side. It was the massive, unexplained radioactive and thermal flare that had lit up every early-warning system on the eastern seaboard, still a mystery though S.H.I.E.L.D. still classified it as a localized sub-atomic detonation.
"You're telling me this kid is carrying the same cosmic ignition key that leveled a forest a month ago?" Fury asked, his voice tightening.
"The decay metrics are matching, Director. Whatever blew up back then is riding on that bronze machine right now."
The comms channel on the main desk crackled heavily with static before a dry, exhausted voice bled through the speakers.
“Fury, you copy? Backup power is online. We’ve stabilized the thrusters,” Clint Barton’s voice was strained, accompanied by the background roar of manual jet engines. “But my HUD is completely dead. Rumlow’s primary harpoon bay is a melted lump of steel. We're flying blind on manual stick over the shipping yards. The target is entirely gone. No UV signature, no thermal, nothing.”
"Return to base, Barton," Fury growled into his lapel comms, hitting the button with a vicious snap. "Get your birds on the deck. I want those fried components under a microscope ten minutes ago."
Fury turned back to the holotable, staring at the blinking red words SIGNAL LOST flashing over the New York grid. He reached out and swiped his thumb across the encrypted interface, routing a direct, high-priority priority-one patch to Avengers Tower.
The line rang twice before Tony Stark’s face flashed onto a secondary glass monitor. The billionaire was standing at a brightly lit penthouse bar, a glass of scotch in one hand, completely surrounded by the ambient chatter and clinking glasses of a high-society victory party.
"Fury! My favorite pirate," Tony said breezily, barely looking at the camera as he waved a hand dismissively. "Please tell me you’re calling to congratulate me on the new arc-reactor arrays. They are spectacular. Very blue. Very modern."
"Stark, cut the comedy," Fury snapped, leaning in close to the terminal. "Ten minutes ago, a high-priority anomalous asset dropped out of the Atlantic cloud cover and deployed a weaponized EMP that just blinded my tracking grid. It landed somewhere in your backyard. I want your private satellite telemetry on my desk right now."
Tony took a slow sip of his scotch, giving a theatrical sigh into the camera. "Yeah, see, I'd love to help you with your little bird-watching hobby, Nick, but I'm currently running a highly exclusive, incredibly expensive victory gala. The security grid is on a closed-loop system tonight. J.A.R.V.I.S. is busy monitoring the champagne temperature."
"This isn't an invitation to negotiate, Stark. The target is a Level-4 threat class emitting lethal levels of localized ultraviolet radiation. It’s matching the exact energetic fingerprint of that massive radioactive burst from late-August. If he's hiding in the New York shipping yards, your tower's atmospheric sensors should be lighting up like a Christmas tree."
"Look, I'm sure whatever teenager gave you a black eye is very terrifying," Tony replied with an amused, completely unbothered grin, turning away to greet a passing guest. "But unless he's crashing through my roof with a Chitauri army, it's outside my current operational interest. Try calling the Coast Guard. Or a therapist. Out."
The screen blinked black as Tony cut the feed from his end.
Fury’s jaw tightened, a low growl escaping his throat as he slammed his palm onto the console.
"Sir?" Hill asked quietly, stepping closer. "Should we override his private servers? Force a S.H.I.E.L.D. breach into the Stark Tower network?"
"No," Fury snapped, his eye flashing with dangerous intent. "Stark’s AI would flag the intrusion before we could harvest the data, and the World Security Council is already breathing down my neck about the security leaks in Manhattan. We handle this internally. If this kid is hiding in the shipping yards, he has to surface eventually. Find out where that flight path originated. Check every missing persons database from Long Island to New England."
He looked out the massive glass windshield of the Helicarrier, staring into the dark storm clouds over the Atlantic.
"Nobody drops a blind spot into my sky and gets away with it. Find him."
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The Stark Tower victory party occupied the uppermost floors of the building, because apparently surviving an alien invasion had convinced Tony Stark that the appropriate response was to throw the largest party New York had seen in years.
The damage was still visible.
Great sections of the tower's exterior remained scorched and blackened from the battle. Several windows had been replaced with temporary panels, and construction crews were still working on lower floors. The scars of the Chitauri invasion had not yet disappeared; they had simply been decorated.
Tony had apparently decided that wasn’t good enough.
The upper floors had been transformed into a glittering celebration of everything that had survived.
Music thundered through the enormous penthouse. Golden lights swept across polished floors and reflected from towering glass walls overlooking Manhattan. Tables had been covered with expensive food and champagne, while bartenders worked behind illuminated counters that seemed designed primarily to make alcohol look more expensive than it already was.
Politicians mingled with billionaires.
Military officials spoke quietly with businessmen.
And in the center of it all, was Tony Stark.
He stood near the sleek, marble-topped bar, swirling a glass of high-end scotch
as a trio of hyper-fashionable Manhattan socialites giggled at a joke he had barely paid attention to making. They were draped in sparkling diamonds and designer silk, completely oblivious to the fact that just twenty stories below, the streets of New York still smelled of pulverized concrete and alien ozone.
"Oh, Tony, it's just marvelous," a blonde woman in a glittering gold dress gushed, touching his arm. "What you've done with the place after... well, the incident. It’s so brave to throw a party right where those horrid monsters were."
"Brave is my middle name, darling," Tony said smoothly, flashing his practiced, multi-million-dollar camera grin. "Well, technically it’s Edward, but let's go with brave. And it’s not just a party, it’s a renaissance. If you look at the ceiling, the light fixtures are powered by a completely clean, self-sustaining arc-reactor grid. You’re literally drinking champagne under the glow of the future."
Before the socialites could praise him further, a sharp, prioritized electronic chime hummed directly into the subtle Bluetooth earpiece hidden inside Tony's tuxedo collar. The sleek glass tablet built into the bar counter suddenly flickered, overriding his custom music playlist with a flashing, red encrypted icon.
Tony sighed internally, giving the women a suave, apologetic nod. "Duty calls, ladies. The global security apparatus simply can't function without my input for more than twenty minutes. Grab another glass of the Cristal on my tab."
He stepped away from the crowd, tapping his earpiece to route the high-priority patch from the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier straight onto the glass bar monitor.
"Fury! My favorite pirate," Tony said breezily, leaning against the counter and barely looking at the camera as Nick Fury's eye flashed onto the screen. "Please tell me you’re calling to congratulate me on the new arc-reactor arrays. They are spectacular. Very blue. Very modern."
“Stark, cut the comedy,” Fury’s gravelly voice growled over the encrypted line, backgrounded by the chaotic hum of the Helicarrier bridge. “Ten minutes ago, a high-priority anomalous asset dropped out of the Atlantic cloud cover and deployed a weaponized EMP that just blinded my tracking grid. It landed somewhere in your backyard. I want your private satellite telemetry on my desk right now.”
Tony took a slow sip of his scotch, giving a theatrical sigh into the camera. "Yeah, see, I'd love to help you with your little bird-watching hobby, Nick, but I'm currently running a highly exclusive, incredibly expensive victory gala. The security grid is on a closed-loop system tonight. J.A.R.V.I.S. is busy monitoring the champagne temperature."
“This isn't an invitation to negotiate, Stark. The target is a Level-4 threat class emitting lethal levels of localized ultraviolet radiation. It’s matching the exact energetic fingerprint of that massive radioactive burst from late-August. If he's hiding in the New York shipping yards, your tower's atmospheric sensors should be lighting up like a Christmas tree.”
"Look, I'm sure whatever teenager gave you a black eye is very terrifying," Tony replied with an amused, completely unbothered grin, turning his back to the terminal. "But unless he's crashing through my roof with a Chitauri army, it's outside my current operational interest. Try calling the Coast Guard. Or a therapist. Out."
With a swift tap of his fingers, Tony severed the feed, the screen instantly snapping back to his party playlist.
"You shouldn't have done that, Tony."
Tony turned around to find Steve Rogers standing right behind him. The captain looked profoundly uncomfortable, wearing a stiff, dark civilian suit that clearly felt foreign compared to his tactical armor. Beside him stood Bruce Banner, nervously adjusting his glasses and pulling at his collar, and Thor, who was holding an entire keg-sized goblet of mead.
"Cap! Bruce! Big guy," Tony gestured grandly with his scotch glass. "Glad you could make it out of your rooms. You’re missing a fantastic party. The catering has these tiny caviar tacos that are life-changing."
"Tony, Fury wouldn't call unless it was serious," Steve said, his brow furrowed as his eyes swept over the laughing, diamond-clad crowd. He shook his head, his voice dropping into a somber tone. "And honestly? Look around. The city is still in shambles. There are people blocks away from here who don't have running water or electricity, and we are up here drinking champagne? It doesn't feel right."
"I have to agree with Steve," Bruce muttered quietly, folding his arms tightly across his chest to keep his distance from the swarming guests. "The ambient noise in here... the flashing cameras... it’s a bit much. My heart rate is up. I really don't think I belong at a gala while there are temporary medical centers operating out of parking garages."
"Nonsense, Doctor! You belong wherever there is glory to be toasted!" Thor boomed, clapping a heavy, calloused hand onto Bruce’s shoulder, nearly causing the physicist to spill his tonic water. The God of Thunder drained half his goblet, his eyes scanning the glittering penthouse with a booming laugh. "The mortals of Midgard have survived a great siege. It is only right that we feast, sing, and remember the fallen by living loudly!"
"See? The space god gets it," Tony said, pointing his scotch glass at Thor. "Look, Cap, Bruce, I get the existential dread. Truly, I do. But this isn't just a party. It's a statement. If we hide in the basement wearing hair shirts and eating ration bars, the bad guys win. New York needs to see that we aren't afraid. We build bigger, we shine brighter, we party harder, and we invite the world to watch us do it."
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As Prince Melanthious arrived at Stark Tower, he looked up at it’s towering façade, just peeking out a tiny bit in the forest of skyscrapers. A singular tree, just a tiny bit taler than all the others in a rainforest of millions of beings.
Melanthious got out of his car (also containing extremely deadly weaponry), and in a split second (He was convinced at this point that American reporters had a sixth sense for rich, important people), their cameras turned on him. His bodyguards stepped out of their cars, and in a well-practised move, cleared a path through the gaggle of people. (while wearing their Talos Exo-Suits of course. (those things made it really easy to intimidate a crowd))
Eventually, he made his way to reception.
“Name please?” asked the receptionist.
“Prince Melanthious Skoteinos Chthonas de Gréce” he replied.
“Welcome, Prince Melanthious” she replied. “Please enter the penthouse from the elevator to your left.”
As he made his way tpwrds the lift, a disembodied voice spoke.
“Welcome Prince Melanthious. Please leave all weaponry at reception. And yes, that includes the Talos Exo-Suits.”
As Alexandros opened his mouth to protest, Melanthious stopped him.
“Your Highness-”
“It’s fine.”
“But-”
“Go wait at reception. Get a drink or something.”
“We can just-”
“We can’t let them have the opportunity to inspect those suits”
Alexandros sighed and motioned towards the other guards. They trooped off towards the general direction of the receptionist desk.
After a truly torturous ride on the lift listening to “Shoot to Thrill”, Melanthious found his hand hovering over the emergency call button. Finally, the doors opened with a pleasant ding.
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“His Royal Highness, Prince Melanthious Skoteinos Chthonas de Gréce”, announced the herald.
Three of the Female socialites lingering around the Avengers gasped. Then squealed.
“Isn’t that the Prince of Greece?”, One exclaimed
“Oh, he’s devilishly handsome!”, squealed another.
“I heard he’s the one behind Plouton.”, a whispered conspiratorially.
This caught Tony’s attention. “Plouton? The mining company?”
“The mining company,” she confirmed. “My father says they're practically impossible to compete with.”
“I thought it was state-owned and ran by some guy with three PhDs.” Said Tony
“Nothing compared to my seven” muttered Bruce.
Tony laughed. He motioned to the Avengers. “Come on boys, let’s go meet a prince.”
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Melanthious stood at the side of the bar, drinking a glass of mineral water. (with ice, of course. New York's air was hot enough to qualify as soup.)
He had barely taken another sip when Alexandros somehow appeared beside him and leaned down to whisper in his ear.
“Your Highness. The Avengers.”
Melanthious looked up.
Sure enough, Tony Stark and his gang of goons were heading straight toward him.
Planet-saving goons, admittedly.
Still goons.
Tony reached him first, wearing the same effortless grin Melanthious had seen plastered across countless newspapers and television screens.
“Your Highness. Tony Stark. I hear you own half the periodic table.”
Tony extended his hand.
Melanthious shook it lightly.
“Not quite. But owning half the periodic table would be nice. I'd just have to find a way not to blow up the Greek peninsula with those pesky actinides.”
Tony blinked.
Then he let out a short laugh.
“Okay. That's either the best answer I've heard all night, or the worst thing a prince has ever said to me at a party.”
Bruce Banner, standing beside him, gave Melanthious a mildly amused look.
“For what it's worth, most actinides aren't going to spontaneously blow up the Greek peninsula.”
“See?” Tony said. “Seven PhDs and he still can't let me have my moment.”
Steve Rogers stepped forward and offered Melanthious a polite nod.
“Captain Steve Rogers. It's a pleasure.”
“Prince Melanthious. Likewise.”
Bruce gave a small, slightly awkward smile.
“Bruce Banner. Nice to meet you.”
Then Thor stepped forward with considerably more enthusiasm, clasping his hands behind his back.
“And I am Thor, son of Odin, Prince of Asgard.”
Tony glanced sideways at him.
“Yeah, we've established the prince thing, Point Break.”
Thor gave him an unimpressed look before turning back to Melanthious.
“It is good to meet another prince who walks among Midgard's people.”
Melanthious bowed his head slightly.
“Prince of Asgard. What an honour to finally meet you. I learned of your great exploits when I was a child.”
Thor's expression immediately brightened.
He straightened proudly and placed a fist against his chest.
“And I am honoured to meet you, Prince Melanthious. It pleases me greatly that the tales of Asgard reached even your childhood!”
He gave Tony a satisfied glance.
“At last, a prince who understands the importance of honour and glory.”
Tony smirked.
“Careful, Your Highness. Compliment him too much and he'll start charging appearance fees.”
Melanthious felt a sudden flicker of excitement.
Finally.
Those countless hours spent studying European mythology were paying off.
Apparently, being a prince meant knowing every ridiculous story that an entire continent had ever come up with.
“I particularly remember the story where Loki convinced you to wear a white bridal dress to Jötunheim so that you could marry the giant king.”
Thor's proud expression froze.
“...That tale was not meant to leave Asgard.”
Tony slowly turned toward him.
“Wait.”
His eyes widened.
“What?”
Thor shot him a warning look.
“It was a tactical deception.”
“You wore a wedding dress.”
“A tactical deception.”
“To marry a giant.”
Melanthious continued, apparently unaware that Thor's dignity was currently hanging by a thread.
“If I remember correctly, the Giants had stolen your hammer, so you had to retrieve it.”
Tony's eyebrows shot upward.
“Wait, wait, wait. Back up.”
He looked from Thor to Melanthious.
“They stole the hammer?”
Steve's polite expression disappeared, replaced by genuine surprise.
“Someone actually managed to take Mjolnir?”
Bruce looked at Thor, fascinated.
“That was possible?”
Thor sighed heavily.
“Aye. It happened long ago.”
Tony pointed at him.
“You never mentioned this.”
“It was not exactly a tale I wished to recount.”
Tony stared at him.
“So let me get this straight. Some Giants stole the magical super-hammer that only you can lift...”
He paused.
“And your solution was to put on a dress?”
Thor's eyes narrowed.
“Tony.”
Steve looked between them, struggling not to smile.
“I have to admit, I'm curious how that plan worked.”
Thor sighed.
“Poorly.”
Tony's grin became enormous.
“Oh, this is going to be a great story.”
Melanthious was beginning to enjoy himself.
He was insulting a god.
Not a king.
Not a prince.
Not a prime minister.
A god.
And, admittedly, there was a small, bitter part of him that was still irritated that the Norse gods apparently existed while the Greek gods were nowhere to be found.
He continued.
“And let us not forget the story of when you fished up the world serpent, Jörmungandr.”
Thor's expression immediately became wary.
“You know of that?”
“Of course.”
Melanthious took another sip of mineral water.
“You fished him up, forcing your host to cut the line. When he did, you apparently threw a tantrum and punched your host into the ocean.”
Thor's jaw tightened.
“And you stomped so hard that you broke the boat.”
Thor's expression shifted from embarrassment to defensive indignation.
“That is a gross oversimplification of the events!”
Bruce looked over at him, genuinely fascinated.
“You fished up a... giant sea snake?”
“Jörmungandr.”
Tony smirked.
“And then apparently threw the world's most expensive fishing tantrum.”
“I did not throw a tantrum!”
“Right. Of course.”
Thor glared at him.
Melanthious was beginning to suspect that this was the most entertaining party he had attended in years.
Tony's eyes dropped to Melanthious's wrist.
His expression changed immediately.
“Hold on.”
He leaned slightly closer.
“Is that a black diamond?”
Bruce followed his gaze.
“It is.”
He stepped closer, adjusting his glasses as he examined the stone.
“That's... unusual.”
Steve glanced between them.
“It's a diamond.”
Tony looked at him.
“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”
“I mean, what's unusual about it?”
Bruce ignored Tony and continued studying the bracelet.
“Most black diamonds aren't actually black because of the diamond itself. The colour usually comes from enormous numbers of inclusions—graphite, iron, and other minerals—distributed throughout the crystal.”
Steve nodded slowly.
“Okay.”
A pause.
“And that's bad?”
Bruce shook his head.
“No. Just different.”
He pointed toward the stone.
“Those inclusions interfere with the way light travels through the crystal. Instead of transmitting or reflecting light normally, the stone absorbs and scatters an enormous amount of it.”
Tony grinned.
“So it's basically eating the light.”
“More or less.”
Steve stared at the diamond.
“And people pay money for that?”
Tony looked genuinely offended.
“Steve, please don't ever become an art critic.”
Bruce leaned closer.
“But what's really strange is the polish.”
He studied the facets carefully.
“Look at the surface.”
Tony did.
“It's almost perfectly smooth.”
“Exactly.”
Bruce adjusted his glasses.
“Diamond is one of the hardest natural materials on Earth, but hardness doesn't mean it's easy to work with. Black diamonds can be particularly difficult because of their internal inclusions. They create microscopic irregularities and weaknesses throughout the crystal.”
Steve frowned.
“So... it's hard to make smooth?”
“Extremely.”
Bruce nodded toward the bracelet.
“Getting a stone like this to a surface this uniform without chipping, fracturing, or leaving microscopic imperfections would be extraordinarily difficult.”
Tony raised an eyebrow.
“How difficult?”
Bruce considered it.
“For modern equipment? Difficult.”
He glanced at the bracelet again.
“For an ancient craftsman working without modern precision tools?”
He paused.
“Almost absurd.”
Steve looked at Melanthious.
“So your ancestors were really good at polishing rocks.”
Tony stared at him.
“That is possibly the least impressive way you could have described that.”
Bruce smiled faintly.
“There's something else.”
He pointed at the stone.
“It's barely reflecting any light.”
Tony nodded.
“Black diamond.”
“I know.”
Bruce frowned.
“But even a black diamond reflects some light. This one seems to absorb almost everything that hits it.”
Steve finally looked genuinely interested.
“Is that possible?”
Bruce hesitated.
“Not to this extent.”
Tony's grin slowly widened.
“Now we're getting somewhere.”
Steve looked from Bruce to Tony.
“I still don't understand what we're getting somewhere with.”
Tony ignored him.
“How much did that little piece of jewelry cost?”
Melanthious raised an eyebrow.
“It's a family heirloom.”
Tony waited.
“According to our records, it dates back to ancient Greece. It was cut and polished by a master craftsman who spent nearly a decade working on it.”
Bruce's eyes widened slightly.
“A decade?”
Melanthious nodded.
“Apparently.”
Thor had said nothing throughout the conversation.
His eyes remained fixed upon the diamond.
Strange.
Thor could feel the energy in the room—the warmth of the mortals, the electrical hum of Stark's machinery, even the faint residual power that lingered within the tower from the Chitauri weapons.
But the diamond...
It seemed to swallow it.
Not merely light.
Energy.
Even the faintest trace of divine power that brushed against it seemed to vanish into its depths without reflection or resistance.
Thor's eyes narrowed.
What manner of stone is this?
He had seen enchanted metals before. He had seen weapons forged from materials that mortals could scarcely comprehend.
But this was different.
The stone did not appear to contain energy.
It appeared to consume it.
Thor glanced at Melanthious.
For the briefest moment, the prince's otherwise calm expression changed.
His hand moved instinctively toward the bracelet.
Thor noticed.
He said nothing.
Tony's voice broke the silence.
“Yeah, okay. Now I want to know what else your family has been keeping in those vaults.”
Melanthious looked at him.
“Quite a lot.”
Tony's eyes lit up.
“Really?”
Melanthious took another sip of mineral water.
“And unlike this party, most of it is actually useful.”
Tony's grin faltered.
Steve looked away, trying not to smile.
Bruce coughed into his hand.
Thor laughed loudly.
Alexandros, standing several feet behind Melanthious, quietly sighed.
This was going to be a long evening.
Just as Melanthious was going to bring up the “billionaires partying while normal people sleep in tents in the park” argument, a enormous, resounding crash came from somewhere downstairs. The entire penthouse went silent, as the socialites all looked towards the floor, some rushing to windows. Tony frowned.
“That was unusual.”
Alarms began blaring, and the penthouse dissolved into chaos. Socialites screamed, some yelled into phones at their bodyguards, and a few particularly young ones were recording the whole thing.
“J.A.R.V.I.S, what’s happening?” Tony yelled into a earpiece.
“A enormous serpent broke into the lobby sir. It’s now exiting. It seems to be heading for the wall.”
“The wall? What do you mean the wall?”
“It’s slithering up the wall now, sir.”
Tony let out a string of expletives
“Thor? Is that the world serpent jormundathingy?
Thor, already in full battle regalia, holding Mjolner in hand shook his head.
“No. Jörmungandr would be much larger, stronger, and awe-inspiring than this puny beast.”
“Sir, the serpent has reached the fortieth floor.”
Melanthious ran to the window, Alexandros on his tail. And crawling up the wall was a monstrosity of nature.
It was an enormous serpent-looking thing, at least twenty metres long, and as thick as a school bus. It was a dark, angry shade of grey, with twin jagged lines of gold running down its side, glaring and powerful against the grey. But the most striking part was the eyes. A golden iris against the blindingly white sclera.
In the background, he heard Stark call for his suit.
“J.A.R.V.I.S.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Bring the suit upstairs.”
But everything was in the background. The screaming guests, the bodyguards that had all appeared out of nowhere, the crashing of wine glasses. He was only focused on the golden iris of the serpent. It was calling to him, and everything else was muffled and indistinct. He took a step towards the window. Then another. And suddenly, He flew to the side.
Υψηλότατε! Συγγνώμη, αλλά κατευθυνόσασταν προς το τζάμι!
Melanthious got up.
“Δεν πειράζει, Αλέξανδρε. Αυτά τα μάτια υπνωτίζουν τον κόσμο.”
A deep mechanical THOOM echoed through the penthouse.
Several guests looked around nervously.
Then another.
THOOM.
The enormous windows overlooking Manhattan suddenly filled with the red-and-gold blur of something rocketing upward.
Tony smiled.
“There we go.”
The Mark VII smashed through the open section of the penthouse access area, braking hard in midair.
The armor separated into its individual components.
The boots slammed onto Tony's feet.
The gauntlets locked around his forearms.
The chest plate snapped into position.
The helmet flew toward him.
CLACK.
Tony was standing in the middle of the party in full Iron Man armor.
“Okay,” he said, raising his hands as the repulsors powered up. “Now we can deal with the giant monster.”
As if on cue, the serpent's head smashed through the glass.
The windows exploded inward.
A hurricane of shattered glass swept across the penthouse as the creature hauled itself through the opening, its enormous body scraping against the frame.
The socialites screamed.
“GET DOWN!”
“OH MY GOD!”
“WHAT IS THAT?!”
“GET IT OUT!”
The serpent's head slammed into the marble floor.
CRASH!
It recoiled, then began thrashing wildly.
Its enormous body smashed into the bar.
CRASH!
Hundreds of bottles exploded across the floor, spraying champagne and expensive liquor everywhere.
A marble table was swept aside like a cardboard box.
Several socialites ran for the exits.
“MOVE!”
“GET ME OUT OF HERE!”
“My God, it's inside!”
A particularly panicked man climbed over a sofa rather than go around it.
The serpent's tail slammed into a decorative pillar.
THOOM!
The pillar cracked.
Steve grabbed a nearby socialite and pulled her behind an overturned table as another section of the creature's body smashed through the room.
“Stay down!”
The serpent suddenly turned.
Its golden eyes locked onto Melanthious.
The chaos seemed to disappear for him.
The screaming became distant.
The serpent stared directly at him.
Then it lunged.
“Your Highness!”
Alexandros slammed into Melanthious from the side.
The serpent's jaws snapped shut exactly where Melanthious's head had been.
CRUNCH!
Its teeth smashed into the marble floor.
Melanthious rolled across the ground.
Alexandros pulled him upright.
“Your Highness, stay behind me!”
The doors to the penthouse suddenly burst open.
A squad of figures stormed through.
They were dressed in full Talos Exo-Suits.
Bronze-coloured plating covered their bodies, reinforced with black composite joints. Glowing systems ran along their limbs, while weapons unfolded from their arms.
The guards immediately formed a defensive perimeter around Melanthious.
Tony hovered overhead.
“Okay. That's new.”
The serpent roared.
The Talos soldiers opened fire.
ZZZZZRAAAAP!
Brilliant beams of Greek laser technology struck the serpent's side.
The scales blackened.
The serpent recoiled slightly.
Another laser struck.
Then another.
The beams burned through some of the outer scales, leaving glowing wounds beneath.
But the effect was limited.
The creature was simply too heavily armoured.
“Keep firing!” one of the guards shouted.
The lasers swept across its flank.
The serpent screamed and whipped its tail.
One of the Talos soldiers was struck and thrown across the room.
He smashed through a sofa.
Tony fired both repulsors.
BOOM!
The blast struck the serpent's head.
It barely moved.
Tony stared.
“Okay. That's not ideal.”
The serpent lunged at him.
Tony rocketed upward.
The jaws snapped shut beneath him.
“Definitely not ideal!”
Steve charged.
He slammed his shield into the serpent's side.
CLANG!
The creature turned and struck him with its tail.
Steve was thrown across the penthouse.
He crashed into a wall.
Bruce rushed toward him.
“Steve!”
“I'm okay!”
Thor stepped forward.
“For Asgard!”
He swung Mjölnir.
THOOM!
The hammer struck the serpent's skull with tremendous force.
The creature staggered.
Thor raised Mjölnir again.
Lightning erupted.
CRAAACK!
A massive bolt struck the serpent.
The creature screamed.
But it remained standing.
Thor stared in disbelief.
“That should have slain it.”
Tony flew past him.
“Yeah, I'm starting to think it's not a normal snake!”
The serpent recovered.
Its head snapped toward Melanthious again.
It lunged.
Alexandros stepped between them.
“Your Highness, move!”
The serpent's jaws came down.
Alexandros caught them.
The Talos suit's servos screamed as he fought against the enormous creature.
The floor cracked beneath his feet.
“NOW!”
Several bodyguards opened fire.
ZZZZZRAAAAP!
The lasers struck the serpent's exposed jaw.
It recoiled.
Alexandros staggered backward.
Melanthious grabbed his arm.
“Alexandros!”
“I am fine, Your Highness.”
The serpent suddenly swung its head.
Three Talos soldiers were struck simultaneously.
They flew across the room.
One smashed into a grand piano.
Another crashed through a table.
The third landed hard against the wall.
The socialites screamed again.
Tony flew downward.
“Everybody clear!”
The serpent's tail swung toward him.
Tony blocked it with both arms.
The impact sent him flying backward.
He crashed through a decorative wall.
“Okay!”
Tony pulled himself out of the rubble.
“That hurt.”
Bruce stared at the serpent.
“Tony! Its scales are absorbing some of the impact!”
“Yeah, Bruce, I noticed!”
“No, I mean they're dispersing the energy through its entire body.”
Tony looked at the serpent.
Then at the Talos lasers.
Then back at the serpent.
“Those Greek toys are doing more damage than my repulsors.”
Bruce glanced at him.
“Then maybe we need something with a higher energy output.”
Tony's eyes narrowed.
“J.A.R.V.I.S.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Remember those Greek laser systems?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I want something bigger.”
A pause.
“How much bigger, sir?”
Tony looked at the serpent as it smashed another section of the penthouse apart.
“Golden.”
Another pause.
“Chitauri golden.”
“Understood, sir.”
The serpent lunged.
Tony accelerated away.
Its jaws snapped shut behind him.
CRUNCH!
Glass and marble exploded.
Steve charged from the side.
He slammed his shield into the serpent's head.
CLANG!
The creature whipped around.
Steve barely raised his shield before the serpent struck.
BOOM!
He was knocked off his feet.
Thor charged.
The serpent's tail swung around.
THOOM!
Thor was struck squarely in the chest.
He flew backward and crashed through a decorative wall.
Bruce stared.
“Thor!”
The socialites screamed.
“He's down!”
“THE MONSTER KILLED HIM!”
“RUN!”
“GET OUT!”
A Talos soldier raised his weapon.
The serpent turned toward him.
The soldier fired.
ZZZZZRAAAAP!
The laser burned across the creature's face.
The serpent roared and lunged.
The soldier barely dodged.
The serpent's tail struck him from behind.
CRASH!
He flew across the room.
Another Talos soldier charged the creature.
The suit's servos whined as he accelerated.
He drove a powered fist directly into the serpent's jaw.
BOOM!
The punch actually forced its head sideways.
The soldier followed with another punch.
Then another.
The serpent roared and recoiled.
Thor climbed out of the wreckage.
He raised Mjölnir.
Lightning began crawling across the hammer.
“Stand aside!”
The Talos soldier was still right beside the serpent.
Thor swung.
CRAAACK!
Lightning exploded across the serpent.
The bodyguard screamed. The electrical current jumped from the serpent directly into his Talos suit.
“AAAGH!”
He convulsed as electricity raced across his armour.
The serpent screamed at the same time.
Both creature and soldier were thrown apart.
The bodyguard crashed onto the floor, smoke pouring from the suit.
Thor's eyes widened.
“I did not see him!”
Tony flew past.
“Yeah! Maybe check who's standing next to the monster before you throw lightning!”
Thor looked genuinely horrified.
“I believed him to be farther away!”
Tony fired a repulsor at the serpent.
“Not exactly the time for a safety briefing!”
The serpent recovered.
The Talos soldiers were losing ground.
The Avengers were losing ground.
The serpent was barely slowing down.
And all the while, its golden eyes kept returning to Melanthious.
Bruce noticed.
“Tony!”
Tony turned.
“What?”
“It keeps targeting the prince!”
Tony looked toward Melanthious.
“Yeah, I noticed!”
The serpent lunged.
Alexandros grabbed Melanthious and pulled him backward.
The creature's jaws slammed down where they had been standing.
Melanthious looked into its golden eyes.
The strange pull returned.
His body seemed to move on its own.
One step.
Then another.
Alexandros grabbed him.
“No.”
Melanthious blinked.
The spell broke.
“Stay behind me.”
The serpent raised its head.
Tony's voice echoed through the penthouse.
“Everyone clear!”
The Avengers looked upward.
Tony wasn't carrying the weapon.
Something else was coming.
A small, golden object shot upward past the shattered windows.
It looked like a compact piece of laser weaponry.
Then it unfolded.
Panels separated.
Energy conduits extended.
A massive golden emitter assembly locked into place.
It flew directly toward Tony.
Tony extended one hand.
The device snapped onto the unibeam in the center of his chest.
CLANG!
J.A.R.V.I.S. spoke calmly.
“Golden Chitauri Laser attached, sir.”
Tony grinned.
“Now that's more like it.”
The weapon began charging.
A deep electronic hum filled the penthouse.
The serpent turned toward Tony.
Tony raised both hands.
“J.A.R.V.I.S.”
“Ready, sir.”
“Fire.”
A blinding golden beam erupted.
The entire penthouse vanished into light.
The serpent screamed.
The golden energy slammed into its body.
Its scales cracked.
The creature convulsed.
The socialites covered their eyes and screamed.
“WHAT IS THAT?!”
“TURN IT OFF!”
“I CAN'T SEE!”
“HELP!”
The remaining windows shattered.
The marble floor cracked beneath the force.
The serpent's body was driven backward.
And then—
CRACK.
A hairline fracture had appeared across the black diamond.
Another followed.
Then—
Melanthious's bracelet exploded.
The black diamond shattered in a burst of darkness.
The golden beam vanished.
For one second, a flash of ultraviolet light filled the room, and Outside, Central Park was illuminated as though a miniature sun had ignited for a fraction of a second. People looked up at Stark Tower (sorry, Avengers Tower now), gazing at the light that had burst from it.
“Those rich people and their light displays” muttered one man.
Then, as fast as it appeared, the light scattered. The entire penthouse went completely black.
Silence.
Then—
A woman screamed.
Another screamed immediately afterward.
Then another.
“What happened?!”
“TURN THE LIGHTS BACK ON!”
“WHERE'S MY HUSBAND?!”
“GET ME OUT OF HERE!”
“HELP!”
Phone flashlights flickered on throughout the room.
Then the shadows moved.
Not the people.
Not the light.
The shadows themselves.
They stretched across the walls.
Twisted.
Fluctuated.
They surged like living things, racing across the floor and crawling up the walls.
Someone screamed.
“THE SHADOWS!”
The room erupted.
“OH GOD!”
“THEY'RE MOVING!”
“RUN!”
“RUN!”
A socialite stumbled backward as a tendril of darkness slid across the floor toward her.
She screamed at the top of her lungs.
“IT'S COMING FOR ME!”
Another shadow suddenly stretched across the ceiling.
More screams erupted.
People shoved past one another.
Some ducked beneath tables.
Others ran blindly toward the elevators.
One woman collapsed onto the floor, pointing at the wall.
“LOOK AT IT!”
The shadows writhed behind her.
A man raised his phone.
“Holy shit! Holy shit!”
A shadow snapped across the floor.
He dropped the phone and screamed.
----------LINE BREAK----------LINE BREAK----------LINE BREAK
Across the city, at Long Island, a satyr, walking back to his home suddenly smelt something. He smelled the scent of death and riches (yes, gems have a smell), and a tiny bit of fig preserves. Across New York, monsters also smelled that scent. The scent of a demigod.