Nick's pressure had certainly hit the mark.
The moment the words left his lips, a chorus of condemnation erupted from the council members, and the fervor to authorize a nuclear strike surged once more.
The result left Nick's head spinning with questions.
He wasn't the only one; several councilors looked equally dazed.
They had expected a bit of venting and posturing, but somehow, the "yea" votes had inexplicably crossed the halfway threshold.
Was this for real? Were they truly going to pick a fight with an unknown but visibly formidable civilization?
And it wasn't just one—Thor was the Prince of Asgard, meaning they were effectively antagonizing two cosmic powers simultaneously.
How on earth did that pass?
But the "how" was a mystery lost to the chaos. Nick didn't stick around to ponder it; he bolted from the command deck, grabbed an RPG from the armory, and sprinted onto the flight deck.
Outside, two jets were already mid-takeoff. Nick's expression twisted.
Aiming the RPG, he managed to blow one out of the sky before it could clear the deck, but he could only watch helplessly as the second soared into the distance.
"Motherf—!"
Nick felt like his teeth were going to shatter from grinding them so hard.
"Stark!"
Diving back inside to escape the buffeting wind, Nick patched through to Tony. "A jet is heading for New York carrying a nuke! The blast will level all of Midtown Manhattan!"
"ETA?!"
Tony wanted to scream.
Were these councilors out of their minds? What was the point of nuking New York? The portal was in the sky! If these people couldn't be useful, could they at least stop stabbing them in the back?
But there was no time for blame. They had to fix this.
"About three minutes," Nick replied.
Meanwhile, inside the heavily damaged spacecraft, Janus let out a cry of relief as the signal bars finally flickered to life. He immediately fired off distress messages to both Herta and Asgard.
One was their boss and ultimate benefactor; the other was the local authority.
While Herta was the only one who could truly have their backs, "distant water can't put out a nearby fire."
They were closer to the source of that unknown energy, and while a signal to the Herta Space Station would take ages, a message to Asgard would be nearly instantaneous.
In the Royal Palace of Asgard, Odin felt a sudden surge of unease—a shadow of an unknown threat. As the All-Father and Ruler of the Nine Realms, his intuition wasn't just a gut feeling; it was a premonition.
It had been an age since he felt such a sense of looming crisis—not since he had firmly established his rule over the realms.
Yet, the moment he tried to trace the source, the threads of fate slipped through his fingers.
As he pondered the origin of this dread, hurried footsteps echoed from the distance.
"Your Majesty!"
A nervous voice called out from beyond the study.
"Enter."
The knot in Odin's chest tightened.
Granted permission, the messenger burst in and got straight to the point.
"Sire! We've received a distress signal from a diplomatic mission in Midgard. They are requesting Asgardian military intervention for a rescue!"
A diplomatic mission? In Midgard?
Odin knew exactly what was happening on Earth. His younger son had strayed into folly, and his eldest was currently down there, standing with the mortals to clean up the mess.
How had a third party gotten caught in the crossfire?
"Whose mission is it?" Odin asked. He sensed his unease was tied directly to this group.
"It's... The Blue's mission. They filed a transit request not long ago because their warp route passed through Midgard..." The soldier's expression was strained.
Asgardians were a proud people.
They believed themselves the strongest force in the universe and Odin the peerless God-King. But the legends of The Blue—no, the legends of Herta—were truly terrifying.
They weren't afraid, but they weren't eager to start a feud for no reason, either. There was no profit in it.
Odin's face darkened instantly.
Herta.
Though that name had only been circulating for a century, it rang louder in Odin's ears than almost any other.
She was a true genius, a woman who had single-handedly transformed a planet no more advanced than Earth into a juggernaut that rivaled the Kree Empire.
There were even whispers that she had crossed paths—and exchanged blows—with one of the Five Primordial Gods.
And yet, Herta was still alive, going about her business as usual.
That was an enemy Odin had zero desire to make.
Even with Thor on the ground, and despite his status as Prince of Asgard, that brand of "assistance" wouldn't mean much once the truth came out.
Sure, Thor might protect them, but the one who put them in danger in the first place was also a Prince of Asgard.
Loki was the architect of this disaster.
To the people of The Blue, this would look like nothing more than a squabble between Asgardian royals—one where they were the victims, caught in the wreckage despite having followed all the proper protocols.
This required a delicate touch.
With a thought, Odin cast his gaze toward Midgard. He needed to see the situation for himself before deciding how to proceed.
But as his vision settled on the battlefield, he let out a heavy sigh.
It was already too late.
Inside the sparking, battered ship, a puppet with slightly disheveled clothes opened its eyes. It moved swiftly toward the bridge.
Hearing those familiar footsteps, Janus and Themis whipped around.
Unsurprisingly, they were met with the sight of a Herta puppet, its brow furrowed in clear irritation.
"Madam Herta! You're here!" Themis scrambled out of his seat, desperate to show every ounce of his reverence.
"Mm."
The light-brown-haired girl scanned the room. "Did the Kree ambush you?"
"No! We got caught in a local war!" Janus explained, standing tall.
"Madam Herta, we're at Midgard. Right after we were rescued, Lead Researcher Asta and Captain Arlan left the ship to deal with the source of the conflict."
Herta glanced at the transparent display on Themis's console. "Oh, it's that thing. Fine, I'll handle it. You two stay put."
"Yes, Ma'am!" they chorused.
As Herta turned to leave, she felt a heavy gaze settle upon her.
Without a second's hesitation, she glared back. Her narrowed eyes betrayed her foul mood, and miles away, Odin felt a sharp, albeit brief, prick of a headache.
He withdrew his gaze.
It was clear now—that ship was no ordinary vessel.
Whether it was the crew or the cargo, the fact that Herta had manifested there proved its importance.
"Now then..." he murmured. "What am I supposed to do about this?"
--+--
T/N: I have a Patreon! Webnovel will get 2 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
[email protected]/AspenTL
If you guys wanna check it out.