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Chapter 66 - A Bald Head Emerges

In Asgard's Immortal Palace, chaos erupted the moment Thor returned.

The battle had been catastrophic—Jotunheim was destroyed.

The Rainbow Bridge had also been shattered by Thor's own hands.

And Loki?

Gone.

For a brief moment, the world seemed to settle into an eerie calm.

Meanwhile, on Earth, the Mason Industrial Fair had successfully concluded, showcasing Mason Industries' overwhelming technological and industrial might to the entire world.

Vibranium shipments were flowing steadily into Skynet's base, fueling the production of T-2000 robots.

The Mandarin had cemented his rule over North America's entire underground world, becoming an undisputed emperor of the shadows—an invaluable asset to Gene's grand design.

Everything seemed to be falling into place.

Or so it appeared.

At a secret underground S.H.I.E.L.D. facility, Dr. Erik Selvig stood before Nick Fury, his expression serious.

"Director, this... this is the foundation of the future," Selvig said, gesturing toward a small, glowing cube on the table. "A single artifact containing limitless energy. It's simply—"

His voice cut off.

Selvig's eyes darted toward the monitors, his face twisting in concern.

"Doctor?" Fury asked, his one good eye narrowing.

"Director… something's wrong."

Selvig's fingers flew across the controls.

"The Tesseract is becoming unstable. Its energy output is spiking—abnormally."

Fury's face darkened. "Shut it down."

Selvig flipped the switches.

Nothing changed.

The Tesseract's blue glow intensified, pulsing with energy.

Clint Barton—Hawkeye—descended into the room via a rope, landing smoothly beside Fury.

"Director," he reported, "evacuation is underway."

Above them, sirens blared, red warning lights flashing. Scientists and agents scrambled to escape, some piling into cars, others boarding helicopters.

Fury turned back to Selvig. "Status?"

Selvig's voice was tight with dread.

"Director… the Tesseract is opening a portal."

And as if to confirm his words—

A brilliant flash of blue light engulfed the room.

The energy readings on the monitors spiked to their peak.

Then—

It happened.

A figure stepped through the rift, surrounded by a storm of blazing blue light.

In his hand, he held a silver-white scepter, its tip glowing with an eerie pale blue radiance.

His lips curled into a maniacal grin.

Loki Odinson had returned.

The second prince of Asgard wasted no time.

Raising his scepter, he unleashed a barrage of energy blasts.

Agents dropped like flies, their bodies slamming against walls and equipment.

In mere seconds, he had wiped out everyone in the room.

Only Nick Fury, Hawkeye, and Selvig remained, crouching behind a lab table.

Loki sneered, raising his scepter again.

The energy in the staff surged.

Then—

BANG!

A blinding beam of energy tore through the air—

And struck Loki's shoulder.

The impact sent him reeling, blood spurting from his lips.

Loki whirled around, pain and rage twisting his features.

"Who—?!"

Then he saw him.

And his entire body went cold.

A figure clad in pitch-black armor.

A V-shaped visor, glowing with a sinister scarlet light.

A presence drenched in danger.

Him.

The man who crushed the Destroyer Mechs with his bare hands.

The man Loki had hoped never to see again.

Panic seized Loki's chest.

His mind screamed at him to flee.

"Ahaha! Sorry, wrong room!" he blurted out.

Without hesitation, Loki lunged for the Tesseract.

But—

His body froze mid-motion.

His veins bulged, straining against some invisible force.

He couldn't move.

His fingers remained locked around the Tesseract and scepter, frozen in a ridiculous running posture.

Gene stepped forward.

With an almost casual motion, he plucked the Tesseract and scepter from Loki's rigid grasp.

Then—

His voice was calm.

Almost gentle.

"God of Mischief… die."

Loki felt his soul shatter.

An energy blast gathered in Gene's palm, its power overwhelming.

This was death.

Real, absolute death.

A terrifying fate.

For the first time, Loki forgot his pride.

He didn't care about his royal status.

He didn't care about being Thor's brother.

He only cared about survival.

Then—

A golden light flared before him.

A circular sigil materialized, blocking the incoming blast.

At the same time—

A portal appeared behind Loki.

And in the next instant—

He fell through.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"

Loki's scream echoed into the void.

Gene's visor dimmed.

His eyes shifted toward the new arrival—

A figure clad in robes, wearing a yellow sash.

A bald head gleamed under the fluorescent lights.

The Ancient One.

"Still meddling after all these years, Ancient One?" Gene's voice dripped with mockery.

The sorcerer smiled serenely.

"It's been so long, Gene. Don't you want to sit and have a civilized conversation?"

Gene let out a dry chuckle.

"Sure."

Hawkeye, still crouched behind the lab table, swallowed hard.

He turned to Fury, his voice hoarse.

"Director… that black-armored guy… was that the 'Black Devil' you mentioned?"

Fury exhaled sharply.

"Yeah."

"And the bald one in the yellow robe… who the hell was she?"

Fury's gaze darkened.

"The world," he muttered, "is full of things we don't understand."

Kamar-Taj.

A cozy, ancient room.

The air was thick with the scent of burning incense.

Space warped, and in the next moment—

Gene and the Ancient One materialized inside.

The sorcerer sat down, gesturing toward the table.

"Tea? Or… oil?" she asked with a playful smirk.

Gene let out a short laugh.

"Tea," he muttered, sinking into a chair.

"I don't drink engine oil anymore."

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