(AN: Late again huh? Well here it is.)
The private tension ended for a while, Elias stayed to recollect himself.
The moment he stepped back into the main floor of Mercer's Hearth.
The twins were seated at a corner table now, plates half-cleared, steam still rising from warm food.
Clint stood nearby, arms crossed, quiet, his mind was still processing Elias' words.
Elias didn't push him.
Instead, he smiled lightly and approached the table where the twins were.
Pietro was the first to look up.
"…Okay," he said, eyes narrowing with curiosity rather than hostility.
"I have to ask."
Elias raised a brow.
"Ask away."
"You were just talking about Star Wars with that kid," Pietro said, jerking his thumb toward the door where Peter Parker had disappeared with May.
"And I noticed you guys leaned more to the dark side, are you a fan of Vader?"
"Yeah!"
"What about the Jedi Order?"
"What about them?" Elias echoed, amused.
The answer seemed to confuse Pietro so he tried again.
"Why Vader?"
"Because he was originally a very good man. Then he was corrupted by the Dark Side. However, in the end, his son Luke took him back to right path."
"But the Empire are bad guys." Pietro clarified.
"The Order of the Jedi are the good guys. Don't you also like Obi-Wan?"
Elias chuckled.
"Obi Wan is not bad. However, were it not for the Orders' suspiscion of him. Were it not for them questioning him, making him confused. He would have become a good master, just like Obi-Wan, and just like Qui-Gon Jinn."
Pietro now understood.
Their conversation wasn't that hard to listen and understand, which was why 2 persons were listening for different reasons.
Wanda and Clint were able to overhear everything.
While Wanda was curious about Elias's answer, Clint was connecting dots, trying to understand his words which somehow connects with his situation.
He couldn't help but think if Elias was corrupted, confused or under the system's control.
But according to him, the system doesn't control him but forces him to make choices he wouldn't normally consider.
Then, with a sideways smirk, Pietro added, "So what are you then? Some kind of… dark Jedi fan?"
The word dark hung in the air.
Clint's focus snapped back just enough for a breath of laughter to escape him—low, tired, and unplanned.
Wanda turned to him immediately.
"What?" she asked.
"Is there something funny about what my brother said?"
Clint rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head.
"Kid's got great instinct, I'll give him that."
He looked at the twins, then at Elias, then back again.
"You're not talking to a dark Jedi fan," Clint said.
"You're talking to the Dark Jedi, himself."
Silence.
Wanda blinked.
"The… what now?"
Pietro, on the other hand, froze.
Then his eyes widened.
"Oh," he said slowly.
"Oh—wait."
He snapped his fingers.
"This morning. Stark. He said there was a 'special Avenger.' The one they don't put on files. The one nobody talks about."
Wanda's gaze slowly returned to Elias.
"You mean…" she said carefully,
"…Him?"
Elias lifted his hands and pointed at himself while looking at Clint in confusion.
"Me?"
Pietro leaned back in his chair, letting out a low whistle.
"So that wasn't a joke."
"Nope," Clint muttered.
Wanda studied Elias now, turns out hr wasn't just a shop owner but something more.
"…So, you're an Avenger?" she said, more statement than question.
Elias was looking at Clint, clearly asking for an explanation.
Clint only answered.
"It was unanimously agreed while you were preparing the neal after the invasion."
"Without even consulting me if I wanted to be a member of your band?"
"We both know it's not just a band, it's the first wall of defense against any threat to Earth."
Wanda just listened to their banter while Pietro focused on the food but still leans an ear to the conversation.
Wanda's expression softened—not fear, not awe, but amusement. Elias became a member of a hero team without him knowing it.
"He's funny." she murmured.
Pietro smirked again, but this time there was respect in it.
"Dark Jedi slash Avenger slash Shop owner. Awesome!"
Elias nursed his temples.
"Please don't go around announcing that in here."
Clint finally relaxed enough to sit, though his eyes still held weight, clearly he was still considering Elias' words.
The conversation drifted lighter, but the thoughts he carried stayed heavy.
For the twins, though, something had shifted.
Elias wasn someone Clint trusted which means they too, can confide in him.
As the time passed through their conversation, the trio left the shop.
Clint offered to comeback once he made up his mind which Elias accepted.
Once they're gone, Elias turned to see Mara, Lina and Rhea looking at him with a different kind of respect.
They just heard that their boss was an avenger!
Who were the avengers?
They're the ones who fought the aliens that tried to invade Earth and won!
If it wasn't for them, they wouldn't even be returning to their homes.
Elias then realized this and tells them not to let it affect their work.
They accepted this but the shine in their eyes while looking at him didn't change.
.
.
.
The ride back to Tower was quieter than the one that brought them to Mercer's Hearth.
Tony broke the silence first, hands busy on a holographic display.
"Alright. Good news first," he said, glancing back at the twins.
"Your identities are settled. Clean slates. Birth records, travel documents, residency. You are now legal immigrants."
Pietro's eyes lit up then asked cautiously.
"And school?"
Tony winced.
"Yeah, as requested, we've made it so you both are high school graduates back in your country."
Wanda and Pietro eere both relieved and grateful.
"Thank you."
"Its something I should do. You both deserve it." Tony replied.
.
.
.
The tower was alive.
Construction drones moved along the upper levels, welding, lifting, sealing—turning the Stark logo into the Avengers logo.
The moment they stepped onto the training floor, Clint clapped his hands once.
"Alright. Welcome to Phase One."
He tossed Wanda and Pietro each a set of basic training gear.
"No powers," he said.
"Not yet. That's on Tony."
Pietro blinked.
"Then what's the point?"
"The point," Clint replied evenly, "is that if someone ever shuts your powers off, you don't die in the first five seconds."
That shut him up.
They started with endurance.
Push-ups. Sprints. Balance drills. Hand-to-hand basics.
Clint didn't yell.
He corrected.
Adjusted stances.
Pushed them just far enough that quitting was tempting—but not allowed.
Pietro was fast, even without using his abilities, but sloppy.
Clint made him redo everything twice.
Wanda struggled more physically, but she didn't complain.
When her arms shook, she kept going.
When she fell, she got back up.
Clint noticed.
Across the room, Tony watched for a while—then turned and snapped his fingers.
The floor shifted.
Panels opened.
Metal rose.
Practice bots unfolded into humanoid shapes, glowing faintly with diagnostic lights.
"Phase Two," Tony announced. "Power control."
Wanda stiffened. Pietro grinned.
"These are calibrated," Tony said.
"They react to output, not intent. You go too hard, they hit back harder. You go unfocused, they swarm."
Pietro cracked his neck.
"Finally."
"Rules," Tony added.
"No lethal force. No emotional spirals. And if I say stop—you stop."
Wanda stepped forward, eyes narrowing.
She raised a hand.
Red energy flickered—then steadied.
One bot lifted off the ground, held perfectly still.
Not crushed. Not torn apart.
Just… contained.
Tony's eyebrows rose.
"Good. That's restraint."
Pietro darted forward, weaving through the bots, tagging sensors instead of shattering frames.
He laughed once—then focused when Clint's sharp whistle cut through the air.
"Again," Clint ordered.
"Cleaner."
They trained until sweat soaked through their clothes and the bots lay scattered in pieces—not destroyed, but disabled.
By the end, both twins were breathing hard.
But their eyes were steady.
Focused.
Determined.
Tony crossed his arms, watching them.
"Yeah," he muttered.
"They're taking this seriously."
Clint nodded.
"They have something to fight for now. I've somewhere to be Tony, think you can watch over them for awhile?"
Tony glanced at Wanda and Pietro—focused, disciplined, alive in a way they hadn't been days ago.
He nodded.
"I've got them."
Clint hesitated, just a fraction.
Then said.
"Don't break them."
Tony smirked.
"Emotionally or physically?"
Clint didn't answer.
He was already walking away.
.
.
.
The quinjet cut low over farmland as Clint guided it home.
The familiar fields came into view.
The farmhouse. The quiet. The normal.
Clint leaned back in his seat, fingers loose on the controls.
Elias' words echoed in his head.
Elias is Arthas. They're one man.
Hes was designated as a Villain not by because he chose to, but by the system itself.
The reward.
Accepting it requires his loyalty or he'll be taken over.
He exhaled slowly.
Before he decided anything—before pledges, loyalty, or damnation—he needed to see his family.
He needed to remember who he was protecting.
The quinjet descended and Clint made the most of his stay.
.
.
.
Deep beneath SHIELD headquarters, a sealed conference room hummed with tension.
Nick Fury stood at the head of the table, one eye sharp, the other unreadable.
"HYDRA is deeply embedded, just like he said." he said flatly.
"We just don't know how deep."
Maria Hill tapped a screen.
"Financials, black ops, personnel transfers—too clean. Someone's scrubbing trails before we even see them."
Coulson folded his arms.
"Which means we can't act openly."
Natasha leaned back in her chair, expression calm but eyes cold.
"So we wait?"
"No," Fury replied.
"We prepare even more than we already are."
Steve Rogers stood silent until now.
"If we expose them too early, they scatter. We need names. Proof."
"And leverage," Hill added.
Fury nodded.
"Which is why this stays off the books. No Avengers. No official channels."
Natasha's lips curved slightly.
"Unofficial is my specialty."
Coulson smiled faintly.
"Mine too."
The room settled into grim resolve.
HYDRA didn't know it yet.
But the countdown had finally started.
.
.
.
Asgard
Time snapped back into place like a breath finally released.
Gasps echoed through the golden halls.
Loki stood free.
No chains. No restraints.
At Odin's right side.
The Warriors Three moved instantly—swords half-drawn.
Lady Sif stepped forward, eyes hard.
Thor took one thunderous step, disbelief and anger warring across his face.
"Father—!"
THOOM.
Gungnir struck the floor.
The sound alone was enough to silence a battlefield.
An invisible pressure slammed down on the hall.
Every warrior froze mid-motion, muscles locked, weapons trembling uselessly in their grips.
Odin's voice rang out—ancient, final.
"Enough."
He turned, eyes blazing with authority.
"Loki, Odinson is no longer under punishment."
Shock rippled through the court.
Thor stared.
"You… released him?"
"I did." Odin said.
"And more."
Murmurs erupted, cut short by another sharp glance from the Allfather.
"From this moment," Odin declared
"Loki shall act as Asgard's primary liaison to the realm of Northrend and its sovereign, Arthas Menethil."
Loki inclined his head, composed—but his eyes gleamed.
"He will assist Thor and the armies of Asgard in quelling the rebellions that have risen since the destruction of the Bifrost."
Odin's gaze hardened.
"Until the Tesseract is returned to us, the Bifrost cannot be fully restored. Therefore—"
He turned slightly toward Loki.
"You will choose the proper time to request its use from Elias Mercer. You will offer payment. And you will ensure its return."
Loki smiled faintly.
"As you command, Allfather."
Thor looked between them, struggling to process it all.
"You trust him… after everything? Are you sure he's not trying to control your mind, father?"
Odin's expression immediately hardened.
"You think I, Odin Allfather, is under your brothe's control?"
The spear lifted. The pressure became even heavier.
"Do not underestimate your king again, am I clear prince?"
Thor slammed his knees on the floor and answered.
"Yes, father."
The warriors lowered their weapons, stunned.
Odin spoke at length.
He recounted the moment time itself had frozen—how the court, the realms, even the stars had stood still.
He told them of the visitor who walked through that stillness as if it were his birthright.
The Lich King.
Elias Mercer.
Arthas Menethil.
He spoke of the bargain that was not a bargain.
Of judgment.
Of choice.
Of Loki being chosen—not spared, not forgiven, but recognized.
Made right-hand to a king beyond realms.
And finally, Odin spoke of the power bestowed.
When he finished, silence ruled the hall.
Thor broke it.
"You're saying," he said slowly, eyes fixed on Loki, "that my brother now wields a power given by this… Lich King?"
Loki met his gaze calmly, unflinching.
Thor tightened his grip on Mjolnir.
"Then I want to see it."
Frigga inhaled sharply. The Warriors Three stirred. Sif frowned.
Odin, however—smiled.
"A spar," Thor clarified.
"I want him to prove that what you say is the truth."
Odin looked at his stubborn but beloved son.
"Very well." he agreed.
Loki inclined his head.
"I accept."
End of Chapter