14

This was once Tonsberg, Norway. Now, it's New Asgard. The Aesir of the former Asgard have colonized it. Their numbers are few, and their settlement is small...but naturally, they're all better off here than they would be on that pile of meteors that now sits adrift in the middle of space, where a great society of long-lived folk once lived and thrived...

There's a new fortress. The archaic towers and cannon have been replaced with Asgardian tech.

There's a new cathedral. All the statues are of great Aesir/Vanir heroes/heroines.

There's a spaceport. The Bifrost will be rebuilt there...as soon as someone figures out how.

There's a new wharf. This is where the new locals moor their skiff hovercraft.

The fjord can still be seen from the fortress. And as far as the new locals are concerned-as well as most humans who'd witness it-the fjord looks SO much better than it did back when mere humans lived in Tonsberg.

Much Aesir flora and fauna have been introduced into the nature preserves. Some days, it seems like the plants and animals there develop even slower than the new construction in the city.

In the past few years, they've barely had time to rebuild. Alas, they have erected a few statues: one of Odin, their greatest king; one of Heimdall, their longtime gatekeeper, and later co-savior; and one of Groot, a taciturn tree-like humanoid, who bravely gave his life in the service of Thor, their incumbent king.

Miek, a short insectoid cyborg of Sakaar, and ex-gladiator, calmly sits on the front gate of New Asgard on Osteroya. He's honing his prosthetics, while waiting for new visitors to screen. There's one visitor he's always prepared to hide from if he comes along. One time this visitor-a certain anthropomorphic raccoon-made off with one of his prosthetics.

The new locals have been without their new king ever since they've gotten here. And for that reason, a regent, hand-picked by Thor himself, has been leading them in his stead. Her name is Brunnhilde. And she sure loves the ale here.

Or, rather, she sure DRINKS the ale here. Whether she LIKES it or not is... She sure doesn't seem to inspect what she gulps. But then, all the grain in that beer is going to make her more fertile, isn't it?

She gulps a cold lager, and interviews a new human recruit for the Einherjar. He seems like an odd candidate, since he's not Aesir. Alas, the Einherjar are short-staffed, and need all the help that comes to them. Besides, this one looks like he'd be MORE than a heavy investment...

Brunnhilde puts her beer down, and stares at the candidate. "If another offers thee a superior duty elsewhere," she asks him, "how eager would thee be to chase it, and thus forsake the post I thus offer thee?"

The candidate is Frank Castle. Castle was in Amsterdam, and heard that the Einherjar in New Asgard were hiring; thought he'd try his luck.

Castle chuckles. "Well, let's just say that if their business ever becomes yours, I'll blow them to Old Asgard-wherever the fuck that is in space-with a very generous amount of grenades and IAR ammo."

Brunnhilde nods...slowly. "Thou IS aware...that the Einherjar seeks committed warriors?"

"Once I make an enemy, I never stop shooting bullets into him until he's dead. It's messy, and sometimes it hurts...but it keeps innocent families like my late one safe, and that's all that matters to me."

Korg, a Kronan ex-gladiator, interrupts them, carrying a laser rifle over his shoulder. Brunnhilde stands, bows, and bids the former Lieutenant Castle goodbye. Castle leaves. Korg gives the Aesir's regent the latest security report.

Korg's sad to report that Thor still isn't back from upstate New York. It seems that Thanos will take more work to beat than he or Rocket Raccoon possibly could've foresaw.

Brunnhile sighs, and thanks Korg. Korg takes back up his rifle, and returns to his duties.

She stands on a tower in the new fortress. She stares up at the sky. It looks like there are dark clouds in the distance... But she's just about done believing that they're her new lover, waving Stormbreaker and shouting praises to a glorious victory over Thanos...

Above her, behind her, and beyond the ozone, a new phenomenon enters Midgard's atmosphere. It loses altitude. It falls beneath the ozone, and beneath the clouds-but not by much. It's red-orange. It's got wings. It looks like a dragon.

It makes a shadow as it flies over the new fortress. Brunnhilde notices, and looks up. She'd seen How to Train Your Dragon since getting here...except, she thought that was just fiction. And she sure doesn't recognize the creature from the Aesir book of zoology...

She flips through all of the zoology books in the library, of course. She can't find the creature anywhere. Alas, she can't afford to let her subjects know about this. She wouldn't want them to think that their regent is crazier than she acts...

It's clear that Midgard has a trespasser. She might just have to take a leave of absence from New Asgard just to check this out...

This is Central Park. Traffic in it is slow. It's barely sunrise. No one's here yet.

There's a raised platform, with steps leading up to it. It's bare...except for a lone street lamp.

A portal opens. Mordo's team files out, and assembles on the platform. Mordo waves his hand, and the portal disappears. Here they stand, Mordo's Illuminati, in a perfect formation: Owl, Murakami, Leader, Mordo, Steel Serpent, and Black Ant.

From the street, a photographer sees them. He gapes, takes cover, and snaps photos.

"Wong must die," Mordo declares. "We will find him...and we will kill him, like I did Pangborn!"

The team nods. Black Ant shows off his old classic Hydra salute.

"But first," Mordo recalls, "we must remove those who defend them. SERPENT! ANT! Find the herbalist...and do what you must to get past her."

Black Ant shrinks himself, and leaps into Steel Serpent's robes. Steel Serpent scurries off.

"OWL! HAND!" Mordo gets their attention. "Go settle your long-awaited score with the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. Jones is our captive! She can't save him now."

Murakami takes off. Owl climbs the lamppost, jumps off, and glides out of Central Park. Sterns seems amused at with how much ease Owl climbed the lamppost. It's almost as if he were a bonobo...

"Leader," Mordo points a furious finger at Sterns, "SMASH."

Sterns stares at Mordo, as if confused. "Smash?!"

"Oh," Mordo scowls. "Do...whatever it is that you do that the Hulk doesn't! Turn green! Become an egghead! However the hell it works for you, just. SUMMON THE WIZARDKILLER!"

"Okay!" Sterns starts to, but hesitates. "Uh, Master Mordo? Wouldn't it be more stylish if you said something like 'summon the kraken,' like on Clash of the Titans?"

"STERNS!"

"Right." Sterns turns green, and his bald head expands into the shape of an egg.

Via telekinesis, Leader summons Wizardkiller. The legless dragon lands near him and Mordo. Leader levitates himself, and rests himself atop Wizardkiller's back. He hasn't had a chance to improvise a saddle.

Nearby, the photographer is in awe and fear. He's so petrified, he's forgotten to keep taking photos.

"Alright," Mordo beams evilly. "Let's go find that Ghost Rider, before he dares open another portal to another dimension-or worse, our hideout!"

Leader nods, whips his arm, and clenches his fist. In doing so, he levitates the camera from the photographer's hands, controls the film like a snake slithering, lassos the photographer's throat with it, and levitates the camera more, hanging its owner.

Wizardkiller spreads his wings, and takes off, obeying Leader's telepathic commands. Behind them, Mordo leaps on after them, like a human kangaroo, with the Vaulting Boots of Valtorr.

The Defenders will defend, of course. But will they prevail?