(AN: This chappie is for another review dropped. Say thanks to Machine_9050. Enjoy ^_^ )
Nothing dramatic happened.
No system window.
No familiar translucent panels.
No text crawling across the air.
Instead—
The temperature dropped.
Not gradually. Not naturally.
It plunged.
Breath turned visible.
Frost crept along the edges of the broken table, spider-webbing across metal and glass.
The lights flickered once… then dimmed as if bowing.
And then the space in front of them darkened.
Not shadow.
Not illusion.
Presence.
The air folded inward, compressing, as though reality itself was making room.
A figure emerged.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Encased in dark, ornate armor etched with runes that pulsed a cold, sickly blue.
A crown of jagged ice rested upon his helm, and within the helm's darkness burned two pitiless lights.
Arthas Menethil.
The Lich King.
Elias—no, Arthas—stood beside Elias who had stopped moving.
The system worked flawlessly, far more theatrically than Elias had ever intended.
The moment Arthas fully manifested, all five of them felt it.
An instinct older than thought.
Kneel.
Their legs trembled.
Muscles screamed in protest as they fought it—years of training, willpower, rage, discipline—all of it clashing against an overwhelming, primal authority.
Then Arthas' gaze swept over them.
A single glance.
They dropped.
Hard.
Metal clanged as armor hit the floor.
Knees slammed down with bone-jarring force.
Clint gasped as the air was knocked from his lungs.
Steve gritted his teeth, hands shaking against the ground.
Natasha's fingers clawed at the floor, every instinct screaming move—and failing.
Inside the helm, Elias winced.
…oops. Might've used a bit more force on that telekinesis than I wanted.
He straightened, the weight of Frostmourne's presence—though unsummoned—felt all the same.
His voice echoed, layered, cold, carrying the cadence of a king who had condemned worlds.
"You have failed my first order."
The words struck harder than the fall.
Steve lifted his head just enough to meet Arthas' gaze.
"We—"
Arthas raised one gauntleted hand.
Steve froze mid-breath.
"I am aware of your reasoning," Arthas continued, voice calm, almost measured.
"You chose to believe in your friend. You chose sentiment. You chose hope."
His eyes burned brighter.
"I acknowledge that choice."
A pause.
Then—
"I reject it."
The temperature dropped further.
"Intent," Arthas said, slowly, deliberately, "does not negate consequence."
Tony clenched his jaw.
Natasha's eyes flicked to Steve, then back down.
Bruce swallowed hard, Hulk inside him was silent—listening.
"You disobeyed not out of malice," Arthas went on.
"But out of arrogance. You believed you knew better than command. Better than calculation."
He took a step forward. Frost bloomed beneath his boot.
"As my Generals, that failure cannot go unanswered."
A system panel snapped into existence above them, cold blue text glowing like judgment.
But this one is for Arthas' eyes only. The one Elias received earlier.
[Notification Warning ⚠️⚠️ ⚠️
The generals have failed the first Order:
Order: Retrieve the Tesseract after the invasion and deliver it to Arthas Menethil.
Reward: Knowledge regarding the Tesseract's true origin.
Failure: A swarm of Insectoids will be dispatched to retrieve it—regardless of cost.
You have been granted temporary use of the Arthas Menethil template temporarily to enact punishment on your Generals who failed your first order.
Choose one of the following punishments:
1. Fight in the left 4 dead universe for 7 days
2. Fight in the aliens universe for 7 days
3. Survive the hunt of the Yautja in the Predator universe for 7 days
4. Fight and survive the battle of klendathu in the starship troopers universe for 7 days
Auto-pick choice number 3
You have chosen choice number 1]
"Your punishment is thus," Arthas declared.
"You will survive in the universe where those creatures you fought before, during your test, for seven days."
Clint's breath hitched. Why was he included? He didn't even received the order?
"Your world," Arthas continued, "will be paused. Frozen. Waiting."
No appeals.
No negotiations.
No escape.
They tried to speak.
They couldn't.
Their voices died in their throats, crushed beneath the sheer pressure of Arthas' presence.
Words felt… irrelevant.
"And know that this," Arthas said, turning slightly, "this is mercy. If not I would've sent you to be hunted by Yautja hunters or hosted by xenomorph aliens."
The word felt wrong coming from him. However there was nothing he could do to changr that.
Making any desire now could potentially make the punishment worse and he doesn't want that.
All he wanted was to keep a stone to prevent Thanos from forming all six in case something happens and he won't be able to stop the mad Titan.
Then his gaze sharpened.
"And there is more."
"You already knew what would happen if you didn't bring me what I asked for," Arthas said quietly.
"Yet you asked him. In secret. You made your calculation."
His gaze pierced them. As if piercing their thoughts.
Thor is strong. If all Asgardians are like him, they can hold.
"You gambled an entire realm," Arthas finished, "to protect your choice."
The silence that followed was heavier than any roar of battle.
Steve's jaw tightened, teeth grinding together.
Tony's usual smirk was gone, replaced by a hard stare at the floor.
Natasha's shoulders dipped ever so slightly, a crack in her perfect composure.
Bruce swallowed, his hands clenched into fists he didn't dare let tremble.
Guilt hit harder than any blow.
Arthas did not raise his voice.
He didn't need to.
"You thought yourselves clever," he continued, tone almost reflective.
"You feared that if I obtained the Tesseract, I would use it to come to your world. To claim it."
His helm tilted a fraction.
"So you devised another path. One that kept the stone from my grasp."
The air around them felt tighter.
"You prepared yourselves for punishment," Arthas said.
"You accepted it as the price—so long as Earth remained beyond my reach."
A pause.
"Yet now you see the flaw."
His eyes burned brighter.
"Your defiance was meaningless."
Inside the helm, Elias felt the weight of the truth settle even on himself.
They really believed it, he thought.
That denying the Tesseract would stop me.
"You stand before me now," Arthas said evenly, "and you finally understand."
He spread one hand slightly, a subtle, effortless gesture of power.
"I do not require the Tesseract to reach this world."
That realization crushed whatever resolve they had left.
Tony exhaled sharply through his nose. Steve closed his eyes for half a second.
Natasha looked away. Bruce's breathing grew shallow.
"All of it," Arthas went on, "your calculations, your secrecy, your sacrifice—has backfired."
His voice hardened.
"And now you will endure the consequence anyway."
They said nothing.
They couldn't.
Then Arthas shifted the subject, his tone changing—not softer, but colder in a different way.
"You misunderstand my purpose," he said. "You misunderstand him as well."
Their heads lifted slightly.
"Loki Laufeyson never wanted to conquer your world," Arthas said.
"Not truly." Heads snapped into Arthas in surprise, their faces clearly saying he was lying.
A flicker of something almost like disdain crossed his voice.
"He sought acknowledgment. From a father who never gave it."
The words settled heavily.
"When Odin looked down on him, and he saw only disappointment," Arthas continued, "Loki chose to vanish into the void."
Steve's brow furrowed. Tony's eyes narrowed.
"He survived," Arthas said as if he was there himself. And he was truly sure of what happened.
"Broken. Lost. And vulnerable."
His gauntlet clenched.
"And there, in that nothingness, another found him."
The room seemed to darken at the implication.
"That being offered him purpose. Direction. A throne built on lies," Arthas said. "Conquer Earth. Deliver the Tesseract."
A beat.
"But conquest was only a mask."
Arthas' gaze swept over them.
"Your world had been tested."
The weight of that statement landed like a verdict.
"Your defenses. Your champions. Your unity," Arthas said.
"Measured. Catalogued."
Tony's lips parted slightly.
"You're saying—"
"Yes, someone was behind Loki's actions and that someone will come sooner or later." Arthas interrupted.
"The Tesseract was only one of the six."
The word six echoed.
"The Infinity Stones," Arthas said.
"Relics born at the dawn of existence itself."
The air shimmered faintly as if reality acknowledged the name.
"Each stone represents an aspect of creation," he continued.
"Space. Mind. Reality. Power. Time. Soul."
Their expressions shifted—from confusion to dread.
"With all six," Arthas said, "anything is possible."
His voice dropped.
"A snap of one's fingers… and half of all life in the universe can cease to exist. Which, by the way, is the goal of that being behind Loki's actions."
Natasha's breath caught.
Steve's hands tightened into fists.
"And if the wielder is crazier," Arthas added calmly, "then not half."
A pause.
"But All life and creation itself could potentially be destroyed."
"You'll probably asked, wouldn't the wielder himself die along with the universe's destruction? Well, he could create another one if he wished. Then become the ruler of that universe."
The despair was palpable now, thick and suffocating.
"Your world," Arthas said, "held three of the stones but is now down to two."
Their heads snapped up.
"One is the Tesseract," he said.
"Which you have already sent beyond your reach."
Another beat.
"The second," Arthas continued, "resides within Loki's scepter."
Tony stiffened. Natasha's eyes widened just a fraction.
"And that scepter," Arthas finished, "now rests conveniently in the hands of HYDRA."
The word landed like poison.
SHIELD was compromised.
They had known it. Suspected it. Feared it.
Now it was undeniably obvious, they need to move agaist them soon.
Tony exhaled slowly.
"We'll deal with it," he muttered, more promise than confidence.
"If we survive"Bruce added grimly.
"You will," Arthas said, hearing them. "If you are worthy."
He turned slightly.
"The third stone," he added, "is already well protected."
His voice carried finality.
"You need not concern yourselves with it."
Before any of them could ask—before guilt or questions or defiance could rise again—
Light erupted.
Blinding. Absolute.
The four Generals vanished.
The pressure lifted.
The room returned to stillness—unnatural, frozen.
Only one person remained.
Clint Barton stood there, blinking, breath uneven, heart pounding.
He looked around, confused.
"Uh… guys?"
Arthas turned to him.
"You were not part of that order," he said.
Clint swallowed.
"Lucky me?"
"Do not mistake exclusion for mercy," Arthas replied.
He stepped closer, the frost following him.
"Your order begins now."
Clint straightened despite himself.
"I'm listening."
"Retrieve Loki's scepter," Arthas commanded. "From HYDRA."
Clint didn't hesitate.
"Done."
A system panel snapped open in front of him.
[You have received your first order as a General under Arthas Menethil, Proficient Villain.
Order: Retrieve Loki's scepter by any means necessary.
Reward: Ability from your Lord's Power Roulette.
Penalty upon failure: Judges will be dispatched.
Punishment: To be decided by your Lord.]
Clint let out a breath.
"No pressure."
Arthas' voice lowered, almost conversational.
"Why not take advantage of the moment?" he said.
"Time is stopped. No one will interfere."
Clint's eyes lit up.
"…Yeah," he said.
"Yeah, that's actually a great idea."
He turned and bolted for the exit, already calculating routes, SHIELD protocols, extraction points.
The scepter hadn't gone far.
And he wasn't about to fail his first order.
Time remained frozen.
And somewhere behind the helm, Elias watched it all unfold through the system's monitoring.
His thoughts? Will he become a Villain in the end?
For the first time doubt has crept on his righteous thought.
He snapped himself out of that doubt and tried to collect his resolve.
The system prompts him again.
End of chapter