Marvel: The Infinite Crown

Jade is bald?

****

{Chapter: 158 - Thunder in the Ruins}

Aiden watched, mouth curved into a grim smile, as Tony Stark soared through the air like a discarded ragdoll.

"Moron..." he thought, even as concern coiled in his chest.

The fight had erupted in unpredictable fury. Elliott, now colossal and uncontrollable, lunged at Tony with terrifying swiftness. One slash of his ethereal blade tore into the Iron Man armor, carving a jagged crack before Tony splintered into a shattered wall of concrete and glass.

"Tony!" Steve screamed, rushing forward in a blur.

But he was intercepted by a gale-force impact so strong that he was flung backward, his shield useless mid-air. His body tumbled end over end before skidding to a stop in a cloud of dust and debris.

"Clint!" Natasha shouted, watching Hawkeye lean into a flurry of arrow volleys. One arrow exploded on contact, sparks dancing uselessly across Elliott's impenetrable skin—no damage, no pause.

"Strong… too damn strong," Clint muttered, rising for another shot.

On the ground where Tony had fallen, Natasha knelt, her beautiful face fierce. She removed Tony's fractured helmet, revealing his unconscious expression: pale, unhurt… but out cold.

"The suit's taken a beating," she said, voice tight as steel. She cupped Tony's cheek, trying to wake him. "Come on, Tony... wake up."

A deafening crash tore through the chaos—a wall splintered, and Steve slammed sideways into it. Natasha turned and caught his weight, steadying him.

Before she could help, a figure hurtled out of the smoke—Clint, trying to regroup.

Ducking under the rubble, Aiden remained eerily calm, arms folded, eyes flicking between the drama unfolding. Tony's armor stood broken, Steve worse, Clint reloading. All dwarfed by the towering presence of Elliott.

"Damn, what the hell is this guy?" Clint hissed, arrows paused mid-draw. "Even I'm scared."

Steve coughed, struggling upright behind Natasha. "Aiden… do something! We can't win like this."

In the deafening silence that followed, Aiden took a step forward, expression relaxed, posture unhurried. Natasha's heart raced—he looks so calm… too calm. She gripped Steve's arm.

"Stay back," Aiden called, though his voice carried a warmth that froze time. Then he turned, his eyes sweeping to Natasha. "Don't worry… hold on one second."

Her breath caught in her throat. She knew that look—a signal that he was about to end this. But they were outmatched. She couldn't lose him—not now.

"Wait for what?" Clint shouted, desperation edged in his tone. "For us to die here?"

Aiden's lips lifted in a faint, confident smirk. "No. Just… wait a moment. He's coming. Well… someone is."

Then, without warning, the sky opened. A deafening crack of thunder ripped above them.

A brilliant ray of golden light rained down in a crystalline circle of swirling runes. A figure descended—cloaked in red and gold, muscles defined, and a cloak flowing like liquid flame in the dust-swept wind.

Thor Odinson, God of Thunder, landed with a resounding boom.

He surveyed the ruined mansion courtyard, eyes sharp and powerful. In his grip was Mjölnir, pulsing with the promise of storm.

Aiden's smirk deepened. Natasha let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

Thor spun his hammer in one fluid motion. "By Odin's beard," he proclaimed—deep voice rumbling through the cathedral-like sky. "Your reign of terror ends, Elliott!"

He slapped the hammer to the ground, and the air convulsed in a wave of electric blue lightning. Elliott dropped to his knees on instinct as Thor advanced.

Aiden stepped forward, energy flickering around his hands. Natasha followed, staying close enough to feel his confidence. He looked at her, those violet eyes shining with adrenaline.

"Stay safe," he whispered.

She nodded, and he kissed her gently—brief, powerful, intimate. A ritual blessing before battle.

"Nat," he murmured in her ear. "After this… dinner. Somewhere quiet."

Her cheeks warmed. "It's a date."

Then Thor led the charge. A surge of blue-white lightning crackled from Mjölnir onto Elliott's blades. Sparks flew as the divine energy clashed with fear-fueled darkness. Elliott roared but reeled, his colossal form wavering.

Aiden stepped in, casting a shimmering shield around Tony to protect him from residual shockwaves. Then he reached out to Natasha's arm. "With me?"

She took his hand, and together they stepped into the storm's eye.

Thor stepped forward, Mjölnir raised high. "Stand with me!"

Steve recovered, shield in hand, and Clint nocked an arrow. Natasha squeezed Aiden's hand—solid, reassuring.

"So… it's Thor?" Steve muttered, half-relieved, half-in awe, as the lightning-clad god descended with a thunderclap that shook the battlefield.

Mjölnir hummed in Thor's hand like a living storm, and the very air pulsed with divine power. Clint wiped dust from his face, peering up.

"Of course that's what you were waiting for," Clint said to Aiden, cracking a crooked grin. "Could've given us a heads-up before letting us play chew toys."

"Would you have fought harder if you knew he was coming?" Aiden quipped without looking, his eyes focused on Elliott.

Steve glanced between Thor and Aiden, gears turning in his head. "Wait—are they equals? Or… is Thor our upgrade?"

Before anyone could answer, Thor's booming voice cut across the rubble.

"Aiden! You left before the banquet even began!" The God of Thunder sounded half-amused, half-scolding as he strode forward, eyes sharp beneath his golden helm.

Aiden shrugged one shoulder, arms still folded with casual grace. "I didn't run—I simply left. There's a difference."

Thor stopped, frowning theatrically. "Lady Sif said you vanished without a word. The feast was robbed of its champion, and the mead flowed… sour without your arrogance to accompany it."

"How long did it last?" Aiden asked, almost curious.

Thor huffed. "Seven days."

"Seven days?" Aiden blinked, glancing to Natasha with an incredulous smirk. "You hear that? Seven days."

She gave him a dry smile. "Sounds like you spared yourself a lot of bad singing and worse toasts."

He chuckled softly. "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

Natasha rolled her eyes, though a faint blush colored her cheeks. "Took you long enough to figure that out."

Steve muttered under his breath, "I feel like we're the side characters in someone else's movie now…"

But Thor had turned toward the enemy.

"I, Thor Odinson—God of Thunder, son of Odin—command you to lay down your weapon and return to Asgard to answer for the corruption you carry."

His voice reverberated across the broken concrete and shattered glass.

Elliott hissed, black mist swirling around him like a sentient cloak. His only answer was a shriek—a guttural, otherworldly sound—and the twin blades slashed out, fast and furious.

The silver knife went first, cutting through air with a shriek of magic. The black blade followed like a viper, bursting toward Thor's chest.

Thor met the slash with Mjölnir, the force of their collision sending shockwaves in every direction. Cracks zigzagged through the ground. Clint fell backward. Steve shielded Natasha. Aiden just stood tall, cloak billowing.

"Clint's voice chimed in, "Holy hell, is that a fear construct he's wielding, and he's going toe to toe with Thor?."

"More than that," Aiden replied quietly. "It's Fear incarnate."

The battle between Thor and Elliott ignited like gods clashing in ancient myth. Mjölnir spun in arcs of lightning, thunder crashing with each strike. Elliott's twin blades—now infused with pure fear and corrupted will—moved like dancing phantoms, cutting across thunder and air itself.

Each clash between hammer and blade ruptured the air. Buildings cracked. The sky wept with lightning.

Aiden watched intently. "The blades were holding pretty well.. As that hammer is not just metal. That raw thunder and runes made solid."

Then it happened.

The silver blade screamed, and dark energy surged through it. It blackened, warped by fear, and burst with invisible power.

A pulse exploded outward—dread energy—silent yet screaming inside their minds.

Tony, unconscious and shielded, twitched violently.

Steve dropped to one knee, fighting invisible shackles. Sweat rolled down his brow.

Clint staggered back, arrow dropping from his hand.

Even Natasha… even Natasha—fierce, unshakable—trembled. Her posture shrank slightly as she looked around, as if shadows whispered her past sins in her ear.

Aiden's expression changed.

"Everyone's being affected…" he muttered. "This isn't just magic—it's existential."

But Natasha stood firm, blinking as if pulling herself out of a nightmare. Her eyes locked with Aiden's.

He reached her in three long strides, placing a gentle hand on her cheek. "Hey… it's okay. You're stronger than this."

"I'm trying," she whispered. "It puts my most primal fear in me. As if it like it knows… everything I've ever done."

He pulled her closer, forehead resting against hers. "So do I. And I still see you. I still choose you."

The shadows seemed to lift from her shoulders at his words.

She swallowed hard. "What did I do to deserve you?"

"You were you," he whispered back. "That's always been enough."

Then—

BOOM!

Thor was slammed across the battlefield. He hit a wall with crushing force, the stone shattering behind him. Mjölnir spun from his grip, embedding in the ground nearby.

Dust clouded the battlefield.

Aiden turned, letting go of Natasha reluctantly.

"Heh," he muttered, grinning. "The arrogant god finally got a taste of reality."