Chapter 739

Darcy had barely finished explaining that S.H.I.E.L.D. and the British military were already operating in Greenwich when Dr. Erik Selvig and the others glanced at her, then returned to studying their maps.

They weren’t particularly impressed.

In their experience, S.H.I.E.L.D. was synonymous with incompetence. The organization had a remarkable talent for turning simple problems into complicated ones, escalating minor incidents into major disasters, and then transforming those disasters into catastrophes so spectacular that they had to call someone else to clean up the mess.

Selvig had firsthand experience with that particular brand of genius.

The last time S.H.I.E.L.D. recruited him to study the Tesseract, they’d assured him there was nothing to worry about. Everything was perfectly safe.

The results?

The facility commander went rogue. Selvig lost his mind. The Tesseract was stolen. Then aliens invaded New York.

An impressive string of achievements, all things considered.

Of course, one could argue that the disaster had been caused by someone deliberately sabotaging the operation. S.H.I.E.L.D. had been caught off guard, and even a competent organization could be blindsided by an enemy who knew more than it did.

But that excuse didn’t account for what had happened a few days ago.

Selvig had been confined to a psychiatric hospital, and S.H.I.E.L.D. had solemnly promised that a special agent would arrive shortly to secure his release. They’d told him to relax and concentrate on his recovery.

He’d waited.

And waited.

Eventually, he’d become so bored that he’d started explaining the finer points of astrophysics to the other patients.

The promised agent never showed up.

Given that track record, why should anyone trust S.H.I.E.L.D. to predict the convergence points of interdimensional anomalies?

Selvig would rather work it out using ancient myths and his own calculations. If S.H.I.E.L.D. had somehow identified the correct location in advance, he’d eat his own... well, something extremely unpleasant.

"Spatial convergence has happened before," Selvig muttered as he unrolled a large map and began examining it. "There are historical records suggesting that ancient civilizations witnessed the effects firsthand."

He ran his finger across the map.

"The Maya, the Chinese, the Egyptians. They all used the gravitational effects of spatial convergence to construct some remarkable structures."

With that, Selvig began applying his own calculations, marking the map with a series of red lines. Each represented a predicted intersection, and as the lines accumulated, a pattern gradually emerged.

The more lines he drew, the more troubled his expression became.

At last, he pointed to the location where they all converged.

"Greenwich."

He stared at the map for another moment.

"It’s actually Greenwich."

Jane looked over his shoulder, her thoughts racing.

"When the boundaries between the Nine Realms begin to collapse, the laws of physics will stop behaving normally. Gravity will fluctuate wildly, and reality itself will start breaking apart."

Thor reached out, summoning Mjolnir from the coat rack. The hammer flew into his hand, and he caught it with a familiar, confident grip.

He turned toward Sif.

"You should be recovered by now, right? How about we fight together this time?"

Until that moment, Sif had been looking rather listless, finding every possible excuse to remain close to Thor.

At his question, however, her eyes brightened. A smile curled across her lips.

"That sounds absolutely wonderful."

Selvig glanced toward the bathroom, where the toilet sat in plain view.

He smacked his lips thoughtfully.

"She’s right. We should get moving."

He wasn’t going to admit it, but something had changed his mind. If S.H.I.E.L.D. had correctly predicted the convergence point, someone with considerably more foresight than its usual leadership had to be involved.

The group set off for Greenwich.

They didn’t get far.

About five kilometers from their destination, they encountered a military checkpoint. A sign announced that the area ahead was a restricted military zone.

Roadblocks sealed the route, while sandbag fortifications lined both sides of the road. Machine guns had been mounted behind them, and a squad of British soldiers stood guard.

Selvig and Jane exchanged uneasy glances.

Beyond the barricades, helicopters were constantly taking off and landing. Whatever was happening in Greenwich, the military was taking it seriously.

Still, they had to try.

The two approached the soldiers and asked whether they could be allowed through.

The response was immediate.

"No entry beyond this point. Orders are to allow people to leave, not enter. Anyone attempting to breach the perimeter will be dealt with accordingly."

Thor wasn’t interested in negotiating.

Malekith had attacked his home, wounded his mother, and killed the woman he loved. He had no intention of wasting another minute standing around while the Dark Elf prepared to unleash the Aether.

He raised Mjolnir, intending to take Sif and fly straight over the barricades.

Before he could move, however, a noncommissioned officer hurried over.

"Are you the Avenger known as Thor? Prince Thor of Asgard?"

The British soldier had apparently recognized him. Given Thor’s royal status, adding the honorific was only natural.

"Yes," Thor replied.

"Please wait a moment. I need to request authorization from my superiors."

The soldier reached for his radio.

"I am Sif of Asgard," Sif interrupted impatiently. "We don’t have time for this. You’d better let us through."

The soldier stared at her, then visibly reconsidered.

His expression changed as he recalled the figures from Norse mythology.

"Princess Sif! Of course. Please wait just a moment. Someone will be here shortly to escort you inside."

Sif immediately turned to Thor.

"Thor, he’s being perfectly polite. I think we should wait."

She lowered her voice slightly.

"Even if we can force our way through, the others won’t be able to follow us. We need them."

Thor considered her words and nodded earnestly.

"You’re right. That makes perfect sense."

He paused, then noticed Jane glaring at him.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Jane said nothing.

She didn’t need to.

A short while later, a convoy of four military jeeps arrived. The first and last vehicles carried soldiers manning mounted Gatling guns, their weapons trained outward to protect the convoy.

Once the vehicles came to a stop, the door of the second jeep flew open.

Evenson jumped out.

"You’re finally here!" he called, looking delighted to see them. "Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting?"

"Evenson?" Thor and Sif exclaimed together.

Then, almost in unison, they added, "You really did go back to Earth!"

Evenson shrugged.

"Where else was I supposed to go? Stay in Asgard and wait for your father to put me on trial?"

He gave them a long, weary look.

"You make it sound so simple. You have no idea what I’ve been dealing with these past few days. Why does every disaster in Asgard somehow manage to involve me?"

Since returning to Earth, Evenson had been subjected to a relentless barrage of phone calls from Nick Fury.

The calls had contained almost no useful information.

Where are you?

Have you arrived yet?

Why aren’t you here?

And, inevitably, a long string of profanity.

Fury’s patience had worn thin, and Evenson had become the unfortunate target of his frustration.

Eventually, Evenson had gone straight to the New York Sanctum, found his father-in-law, Olivian, and persuaded him to open a portal to London.

From there, he’d charged an Uber to the London Sanctum’s account and ridden directly to Greenwich.

He’d also issued instructions to the local military personnel. Thor and his companions might show up, and if they did, the soldiers were to report their arrival immediately rather than mistake them for intruders.

Once everyone was aboard the convoy, Selvig turned toward Evenson.

"Was it you who alerted S.H.I.E.L.D. to the situation here?"

"Of course," Evenson replied without hesitation. "Without me, they might never have figured out what was happening."

Selvig nodded, apparently satisfied.

Then he looked out the window at the eerily empty streets.

"Have they evacuated everyone?"

"Everyone they could," Evenson confirmed. "Once S.H.I.E.L.D. and the military got involved, leaving civilians in the area would have been irresponsible."

Selvig looked astonished.

"They cleared the whole district that quickly?"

He shook his head in disbelief.

"During the Second World War, Churchill wanted to build a military airfield, and one stubborn landowner refused to move. The government eventually had to change the location of the entire project. And now they’ve evacuated an entire district in less than a day?"

He looked back at Evenson.

"Are British citizens suddenly much more cooperative with their government?"

Evenson merely smiled.

The evacuation hadn’t been easy at first.

The military had initially announced that Greenwich would host a joint exercise. Some residents cooperated, but many simply refused to leave. They saw no reason to abandon their homes just because the armed forces wanted to practice.

Then Evenson visited a military logistics warehouse and noticed several crates of Geiger counters.

That gave him an idea.

He suggested that the military change its explanation.

Instead of a joint exercise, the authorities announced that Greenwich was believed to harbor more than a hundred dangerous green terrorists who had brought three dirty bombs into the district.

The response was immediate.

Nobody needed to knock on doors or persuade reluctant residents to leave. Families packed their belongings and evacuated voluntarily, and the district was cleared in less than a day.

Curiously, more than a hundred military-grade Geiger counters also appeared for sale online around the same time.

They sold out almost instantly.

Evenson had no idea why anyone would want to buy one.

Perhaps people had suddenly developed an interest in radiation safety.

The convoy eventually reached the temporary command center established on the outskirts of Greenwich.

General Sheffield was in charge of the British military forces. Evenson served as S.H.I.E.L.D.’s representative.

Inside the command center, a massive screen displayed the image of an elderly man who looked remarkably alert.

Darcy recognized him immediately and leaned toward Jane.

"Look. That’s the First Sea Lord."

"So the Royal Navy is involved, too," Jane replied calmly.

The First Sea Lord was a major figure in the British naval establishment, serving as the professional head of the Royal Navy. To most people, his presence would have been impressive.

Jane, however, had spent enough time dealing with Asgardians to develop a rather unusual perspective on authority.

She’d argued with Odin, the King of Asgard, and had even slapped both of his sons across the face.

A British admiral was hardly going to intimidate her.

"Not just the Royal Navy," Evenson added with a smile. "The Royal Horse Artillery’s First Regiment, along with the Fourth and Nineteenth Royal Artillery Regiments, have established artillery positions around Greenwich and across the Thames."

He gestured toward the map.

"The Special Air Service is already inside the city, preparing for urban combat."

"Consultant," General Sheffield interrupted, shooting Evenson an unhappy look.

The general clearly wasn’t pleased that the consultant had casually revealed their military deployments to a group of civilians and two extraterrestrials.

Evenson gave him an apologetic smile.

"My mistake, General. But they’re not the enemy."

He stepped outside the command center and lit a cigarette.

For a moment, he stood watching the surrounding streets as he exhaled a cloud of smoke.

Then his expression changed.

He turned back toward Sheffield.

"General, are you absolutely certain the area has been evacuated?"

Sheffield, who was still reviewing the deployment plans, barely looked up.

"Everyone except the people you brought with you. We’ve swept the entire district using life detectors. There isn’t a living soul left except a few stray dogs and cats."

"Oh?"

Evenson narrowed his eyes and looked back toward the direction he’d been watching.

Not far from the command center stood a large building with a restaurant occupying one of its upper floors. An entire wall consisted of enormous panes of transparent glass.

And sitting beside one of those windows was a woman.

She wore a purple qipao, and her short black hair framed a face that seemed entirely at ease with the unfolding crisis.

She had dragged a chair to the window and arranged several fast-food meals on the table in front of her. With the relaxed air of someone settling in for an evening of entertainment, she watched the streets outside.

Evenson stared.

The building wasn’t particularly far away. The woman was sitting directly beside the window, in plain sight.

How had nobody noticed her?

Before he could make sense of it, the woman turned her head.

She looked directly at him.

Then she smiled faintly and gave him a small nod.

Evenson froze.

"What’s got your attention?" Thor asked, approaching his side.

"Nothing," Evenson said after a moment.

He’d been about to point the woman out, but Thor was already looking in the same direction.

The Asgardian saw nothing.

Evenson glanced back at the restaurant.

The woman casually grabbed a handful of potato chips and popped them into her mouth. She followed them with a generous drink of soda, then turned her attention toward the Thames.

Something about the scene felt wrong.

Then Evenson sensed a sudden fluctuation in space.

It came from the river.

The air rippled, reality folding in on itself as a colossal vessel emerged from a spatial jump.

The Dark Elf flagship appeared over the Thames, its immense silhouette blotting out the surrounding light. It glided toward the riverbank before slowly descending into position.

Evenson’s expression hardened.

There was no mistaking it.

Malekith had arrived.

Thor gripped Mjolnir, his entire body tensing with anticipation.

"Malekith!"

The name escaped his lips like a promise of vengeance.

"General, the operation is underway!" Evenson called back toward the command center.

Inside, the officers had been preparing for this moment. Even so, the sight of an alien warship appearing out of nowhere left them frozen for a brief second.

The First Sea Lord spoke from the enormous screen.

"Begin the first wave of aerial strikes."

The order went out immediately.

A Queen Elizabeth-class aircraft carrier stationed in the North Sea had five fighter jets waiting on standby. They launched at once, climbing into the sky and racing toward Greenwich.

Evenson closed his eyes and reached out with his senses.

He stopped almost immediately.

There was no need to rely on magic anymore.

Spatial convergence had begun in earnest. The boundaries between the Nine Realms were opening, and portals had become visible to the naked eye, scattered across the sky like wounds in reality.

He turned toward Sheffield.

"I believe I specifically warned you against aerial strikes. And I told you not to use guided weapons."

"It’s worth trying," Sheffield replied awkwardly, keeping his eyes on the developing situation.

He sounded as though he knew perfectly well what was about to happen.

But what was he supposed to do? The Royal Navy was taking orders from the First Sea Lord. Sheffield had no authority to stop them.

As expected, the five fighters never reached their target.

The moment they launched their missiles, the weapons veered sharply off course. Their guidance systems failed as the missiles were dragged toward one of the spatial portals and vanished through it.

The fighters themselves fared no better.

Their controls stopped responding properly, and one after another, the aircraft were pulled toward the openings in space. The pilots struggled desperately to regain control, but the portals swallowed them before they could escape.

Evenson looked toward the screen displaying the First Sea Lord.

"Congratulations, my lord. You’ve successfully launched a missile strike against one of Asgard’s allied realms."

He paused, letting the words sink in.

"And you’ve also sent your own soldiers across an international border without their consent."

Then he leaned toward Thor and lowered his voice.

"Tell me something. Do the inhabitants of those neighboring realms still have that charming custom of preserving outsiders’ brains in lime and hanging them up as decorations?"

Thor’s expression turned distinctly uncomfortable.

"I’m... not entirely sure. They might."

Evenson sighed.

"Well, that’s reassuring."

The battle had barely begun, and the British military had already managed to turn a routine opening strike into an interdimensional diplomatic incident.

Things were going splendidly.