Marvelous Mutations

Luke wasn't worried.

Not about the Chitauri. Not about aliens falling from the sky. Not even about Loki.

After all, his system was built different.

Especially now, with the awakened negative mutation ability, it was like having cheat codes for life.

As for Wanda? He worried even less.

The Scarlet Witch's power was absurd even in the Marvel films, and here, under the system's influence, she was progressing at double speed. Maybe even triple.

Even Thanos would think twice before picking a fight with this version of Wanda.

And Sharon?

Well…

Sharon was the problem.

No superpowers. No magical bloodline. No ancient destiny. Just grit, training, and muscle memory. Against an alien invasion, that wasn't worth much more than a well-thrown shoe.

But then Luke glanced over at her.

She was seated cross-legged on the floor, Mjölnir casually resting in her lap as she scrolled through some online store.

Right.

Never mind.

She was holding a literal divine weapon like it was a handbag. Maybe she'd be fine after all.

…

Before sitting down to enjoy his day, Luke gave one last set of orders:

Bumblebee and Doggo were stationed at the store entrance.

"If anything weird shows up," he told them, "treat it like a chew toy or a target."

Doggo growled in agreement.

Bumblebee flashed his headlights twice, which Luke decided to interpret as "roger that."

Satisfied, Luke headed back inside, flopped into his chair, and booted up the one place where even gods bowed to him…

World of Warcraft.

A classic.

The game had survived in this universe too, though he didn't know how. It was the one bridge connecting his past life and the present.

And today? He was deep in a dungeon run with a bunch of players who clearly had never raided before.

He sighed, watching his screen turn gray.

"Another wipe," he muttered. "Who the hell pulls three mobs without a tank?"

He looked up for a moment, distracted by a tall, curvy customer exiting the store. Then glanced back at the screen, too late.

[You have died.]

"Again!?"

Luke ripped off his glasses, rubbed his face, and exploded.

"Stupid tank! You're supposed to pull, not take a nap! And what was that priest even doing!? Wait…"

And then:

[You've been kicked out of the party.]

He froze.

"Oh right. I was the priest."

He facepalmed.

Coincidentally, there had been five wipes in the dungeon run.

And coincidentally, there had been exactly five beautiful female customers in the store today.

He stared at the screen.

"Maybe the system's real curse… is distraction."

…

Meanwhile, on the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier…

Smoke still curled through the ruins of the battle. Panels hung loose from the walls, sparks flew from broken circuitry, and the air still smelled faintly of ozone.

After hours of repair work, led primarily by Tony Stark, the damaged engine finally seemed stable.

But the victory was hollow.

They had lost their best chance to stop Loki.

Thor, stripped of Mjölnir, was significantly weakened. Banner had vanished after transforming into the Hulk mid-battle. And Luke, well, he had left faster than the enemy arrived.

The Avengers were scattered and bruised, held together by duct tape and sheer stubbornness.

At the moment, Captain America and Tony were speaking quietly amid the debris.

"We can't let him win," Steve said.

Tony nodded absently. "Yeah, but the thing is… I don't think Loki just wanted to beat us. He wanted to make a spectacle out of it."

Steve looked confused. "A spectacle?"

Tony's eyes narrowed. "Think about it. He didn't just break us apart. He wanted us to watch. He wants a stage. He wants applause."

He paused, suddenly thoughtful.

"…He wants to be the star."

Tony's eyes widened in realization.

"Wait a minute… I know where he is."

…

Moments later...

Iron Man shot off the helicarrier like a missile, heading straight for Stark Tower.

Behind him, a S.H.I.E.L.D. quinjet carried Captain America, Black Widow, and hammer-less Thor.

Loki wanted attention? He was about to get a front-row seat to reality.

…

On the rooftop of Stark Tower...

Dr. Selvig stood back from the glowing portal device, sweat on his brow and madness in his eyes. The Tesseract pulsed with blinding energy.

And just a few feet away, Loki waited.

He had been expecting them.

Tony arrived first, armor-clad and smirking. But his suit was already half-damaged, so he stepped inside and casually poured himself a drink.

"Whiskey?" he offered.

Loki didn't move.

Tony surreptitiously placed two metal bracelets on his wrists while talking.

"Nice view," he said. "Shame about the alien invasion."

"You're stalling," Loki replied, smiling.

Tony lifted his glass. "Nope. Just setting the mood."

Loki turned toward the shimmering blue vortex in the sky.

"The Chitauri are coming. This world is already lost."

Tony walked over and leaned beside him.

"Only if you're the scariest thing in the room, there's still the Avengers to stop you" he said.

Loki laughed. "The Avengers? They're already broken. What do you have left?"

Tony held up a finger. "Let me count for you."

"Thor."

Loki raised an eyebrow. "The one that lost his hammer and was kicked off a flying ship?"

"Captain America."

"Your glorified museum exhibit?"

"Hulk."

"Whom you also don't know the location of."

Tony paused, narrowing his eyes. "We also have a consultant. And a dog."

Loki burst out laughing.

"That coward? The one who ran away when things got rough? And what's his puppy going to do, bark at the Chitauri hoping to scare them away?"

…

Back at the grocery store...

Luke had just rejoined another dungeon group when the system suddenly pinged:

[Ding! Loki, the God of Tricks, has insulted the host. The Mind Scepter, offended on your behalf, has malfunctioned and attacked its owner.]

Luke blinked.

"…Wait, what?"

He took off his glasses and stared into the distance.

Far, far away on a rooftop in Manhattan, he felt the burn of divine karma unfolding in real-time.

"…Good scepter."

He patted Doggo's head and leaned back in his chair with a grin.

"Let the show begin."

…