Thor's approach to the Avengers' quarters was heralded by laughter—genuine, unforced mirth that cut through the building's austere corridors like sunlight through clouds. The sound made him grin before he'd even reached the door.
He pushed it open without ceremony, his presence filling the doorway. "It gladdens my heart to see Earth's mightiest heroes maintaining such spirits in this strange realm!"
"We adapt," Rhodey called back, raising a glass in salute. "Make the best of what we've got."
"Which, currently, includes lunch," Sam added, gesturing at the spread across their communal table. "And about time you showed up, Point Break."
The common room had been transformed into something approaching a proper gathering space. Someone—probably Hope, given the systematic organization—had arranged seating for everyone. The table groaned under platters of food that represented a fascinating fusion of Republic rations, Coruscant street vendor fare, and whatever the Avengers had managed to cobble together from their collective cooking skills.
"Now that everyone's present," Steve announced, his command voice cutting through the ambient conversation, "we can address the elephant in the room. Or should I say, the god?"
Thor laughed, the sound booming. "I have been called worse, Captain."
Wanda stood from her seat, red energy already manifesting around her fingertips. Two plates of food—carefully selected, perfectly portioned—lifted smoothly from the table and floated toward Illyana and Merlin. The girls reached for them eagerly.
"Take these to your room," Wanda instructed, her tone carrying that particular maternal firmness that brooked no argument. "Mara, you go with them."
"Mom," Illyana protested, her young face scrunching with indignation, "we're not babies. We can—"
"This is an adult conversation." Wanda's expression softened slightly, but her resolve remained absolute. "You three will have dinner in your quarters tonight. No arguments."
Elena opened her mouth to object. Wanda's eyebrow arched. The objection died unspoken.
Mara Jade simply grabbed her plate and headed for the door, recognizing a losing battle when she saw one. The other two girls followed reluctantly, Illyana shooting one last pleading look over her shoulder.
The moment the door closed behind them, Wanda's fingers flicked. Scarlet energy sealed the doorframe—not locked, precisely, but certainly discouraged from opening unexpectedly.
"You've grown considerably more powerful since last we met," Thor observed, settling into a reinforced chair that creaked under his weight. "I can feel it in the air around you."
"Thank you, Thor." Wanda settled back into her own seat, accepting the compliment with quiet grace. "We all find strength where we can."
The thirteen Avengers arranged themselves around the table—an odd number for symmetry, but perfect for the family they'd become. Steve sat at one head, Thor naturally claiming the other. Natasha positioned herself where she could see both exits. Vision hovered slightly above his chair, a habit he'd never quite broken.
"We have considerable ground to cover," Steve began, already mentally organizing topics by priority. "Thor, let's start with Earth. What's the situation?"
Thor's expression grew serious—not grim, but focused in a way that reminded everyone he was also a crown prince with millennia of strategic experience. "Our comrades work tirelessly to open the Gate. When I departed, Jane expressed great confidence in her calculations. She believes another attempt is imminent."
"Let's hope they've learned from our landing," Hope said dryly, pulling up a holographic interface from her gauntlet. Data streamed across the projection—figures, coordinates, energy signatures. "According to the information you brought back, we need to locate a corresponding gate on this end. The statistical probability of finding it without additional parameters is..." She paused, calculating. "Astronomically low."
"If—when—we succeed in opening the gate," Scott said, leaning forward with barely contained hope, "how many do you think will come through? Peter mentioned Stark and Barton have been recruiting since we arrived here."
The question hung in the air, weighty with implications.
They had, in effect, two Avengers teams now. One scattered across a galaxy far from home, fighting wars they'd never anticipated. The other defending Earth in their absence, filling gaps that shouldn't have existed.
"No kidding," Matt interjected from his position against the wall. "Imagine waking up one day and half the world's heroes just... gone. The chaos must've been significant."
Rhodey nodded grimly. "True enough. But here's my concern—even if they successfully open the gate, how do we prevent another random scattering? We barely survived our uncontrolled arrival. Some of us—" He glanced at Vision, at faces that had been separated for weeks before reunion. "—ended up light-years apart. What guarantees they won't experience the same thing?"
"We maintain optimism," Steve said firmly, though his own doubts lurked behind his eyes, "and trust our teammates. They know the risks. They'll plan accordingly. We focus on our end—finding that corresponding gate and preparing for their arrival."
"There's more," Thor added, his tone shifting slightly. "Information that concerns the Jedi directly."
That got everyone's attention.
"A Jedi Knight named Celeste Morne has appeared on Earth." Thor let that bombshell settle. "She's formed a close alliance with Barnes. The Jedi Council here has no knowledge of her existence."
Silence descended like a physical weight.
"How?" Vision asked, his analytical mind already racing through possibilities. "The Jedi maintain meticulous records. How could one of their Order reach Earth without anyone knowing?"
"That," Thor said, "is precisely what they're attempting to determine."
In the Jedi Archives, Jocasta Nu navigated the endless stacks with the familiarity of decades. The holocron repository stretched in every direction, each glowing data device containing knowledge accumulated over thousands of years.
She was hunting for one name. One mystery. Celeste Morne.
The Archive Master had assigned herself this task with characteristic determination. If this Jedi existed in their records—and every Jedi who'd ever taken the oath existed in their records—she would find her.
Meanwhile, in the Council chambers, the Masters debated.
"Similar to the Avengers' arrival, perhaps?" Plo Koon suggested, his respirator hissing softly. "An accident involving unknown technology?"
"The Force moves in mysterious ways," Ki-Adi-Mundi countered. "Perhaps it called her to that world for reasons we cannot yet comprehend."
"Or," Mace Windu said, his tone suggesting he found both theories unsatisfying, "there's information we're missing. Context we haven't uncovered."
Jocasta's research had already uncovered one tantalizing lead: an ancient mission designated "Interstellar."
Fifteen years prior, a massive expedition had launched into the Unknown Regions—the vast, unexplored territories beyond the Outer Rim. Six Jedi Masters. Twelve Jedi Knights. Twenty Padawans. Fifty thousand clone troopers. An entire fleet tasked with pushing the boundaries of known space.
They'd vanished completely. No distress calls. No debris fields. No survivors.
When Jocasta cross-referenced the personnel manifest against the name "Celeste Morne," she found nothing. The Jedi on Earth wasn't listed among the missing.
Which meant the mystery deepened rather than resolved.
Back in the Avengers' quarters, Thor's expression had grown grave.
"My friends, we face threats beyond simple logistics." His grip tightened on Mjolnir's handle. "The Son has escaped Mortis. He walks free, unbound by the prison that contained him for millennia."
"The Celestial," Wanda said, testing the word. "That's what you called him before, right?"
"Correct," Vision confirmed. "To fully explain what he is would require a comprehensive lecture on Force metaphysics, cosmology, and entities that exist beyond conventional understanding. The simplified version: he's immensely powerful, fundamentally unstable, and no longer restricted to a fraction of his capabilities."
"Why start a war here?" Pietro asked, his natural protectiveness making him tense. "What's his goal?"
"Revenge," T'Challa answered, his voice carrying the weight of someone who understood vengeance intimately. "He perceives his imprisonment as a wrong requiring redress. The daughter explained that conflict and strife are woven into his very nature. He doesn't merely cause chaos; he is chaos."
"How do we stop him?" Matt's question was direct, tactical.
"The Dagger of Mortis," Peter chimed in. "It's the only weapon capable of truly ending him."
"And where is this dagger currently located?" Rhodey asked.
"The Jedi Temple's central dome," Peter replied. "Under heavy guard."
The Avengers exchanged looks—some skeptical, some concerned.
"Is that safe?" Scott leaned back in his chair. "Didn't Ultron just raid that place? What's stopping another theft?"
"Context," Matt said patiently. "Ultron's attack succeeded due to unique circumstances—a perfect storm of distraction, misdirection, and timing. The Temple's defenses have been reinforced significantly. Currently, it's the most secure location we have access to."
"Besides," Vision added, "we only need to retrieve the dagger once we've located the Son. Until then, allowing the Jedi to safeguard it seems prudent."
Pietro's eyes narrowed slightly, a thought occurring to him. "Speaking of the Jedi finding things—if they knew about Wanda's holocrons, would they confiscate them?"
The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.
Wanda's expression hardened. "They can try to take Ajunta Pall holocron." Her voice carried an edge that suggested such an attempt would go poorly. "They're not touching Kreia's."
"Won't they discover them eventually?" Hope asked, her tone more concerned than accusatory. "Don't the Jedi have a right to know about potentially dangerous Sith artifacts?"
"They'll have that right when they can handle them properly," Wanda replied flatly. "Kreia's holocron chose me. Taught me. It's not some object to be locked away and forgotten."
"Wanda—" Hope began.
Steve's hand came down on the table—not violently, but with enough force to cut through the building tension. "We're not debating this now. The holocrons are Wanda's. She'll decide their fate when and if that time comes. Until then, this conversation is over."
His captain's voice left no room for argument.
Hope subsided, though her expression suggested the topic wasn't truly closed. Wanda shot Steve a grateful look.
Thor glanced between the assembled Avengers, clearly sensing undercurrents he didn't fully understand. "I appear to have missed significant developments during my absence. What exactly transpired with Wanda and these... holocrons?"
"Long story," Natasha said succinctly. "We'll brief you later. Preferably with alcohol."
"Ah." Thor nodded sagely. "That kind of story."
"There's one more thing," Vision interjected smoothly, redirecting before another tangent could develop. "Thor, you met with the Jedi Council upon your arrival. How did that encounter proceed?"
"Indeed." Thor's expression shifted to something between amusement and exasperation. "That was quite the experience. Let me tell you what transpired..."