A morning in Malibu should, by all rights, be peaceful.
An upscale mansion where the gentle sound of Pacific waves and the distant cry of seagulls set the tone.
However, what greeted Tony Stark as he returned by helicopter—having haphazardly finished cleaning up the mess in New Mexico—was not peace. It was a passionate vibration and noise that felt like it was rattling the very foundation of the building.
"Ah! Nid...! More, just a little more...!"
"Natasha, you’re far too wasted on S.H.I.E.L.D. Hmm, is this your weak point?"
Explicit moans and the rhythmic screaming of bedsprings echoed through the walls and into the living room with staggering clarity.
Tony stood in the entrance, the box of donuts in his hand slipping and hitting the floor.
Beside him, Ratatoskr stepped off the helicopter, digging into his ear as he nonchalantly chewed on an acorn.
"Hey, Tin Man. Are those two at it again? Your house is going to collapse at this rate. Yesterday he was seducing that Asgardian warrior, and now he’s right back at it the moment we hit the front door. I swear, his stamina is as sturdy as the roots of Yggdrasil."
Tony Stark, his hands trembling as he clutched at his bangs—which felt noticeably thinner lately—let out a roar.
"You damn reptiles!!! Go to a hotel for God's sake!!! Is this my home or your personal love hotel?! JARVIS! Activate the fire sprinklers in that room right now! No, just throw in a tear gas canister!"
[Sir, Mr. Níðhöggr’s mana has already neutralized the mansion’s soundproofing system. Additionally, the current humidity in that room is at 85%... and the temperature is extremely high. I suspect the sprinklers would be ineffective.]
"Arrgh!! My house!!! My hairline!!!"
As Tony’s scream reached its peak, Níðhöggr opened the door and stepped out, shirtless and dangling a cigarette from his lips.
Behind him followed Natasha, her red hair a disheveled mess and wearing nothing but one of Níðhöggr's dress shirts, her expression dazed and languid.
"Oh, the Wallet's back? Why are you making such a racket out here? To disturb a villain's rest is to court death."
Níðhöggr ignored Tony’s rage entirely, pulling a bottle of high-end wine from the fridge and drinking it straight from the neck.
Suddenly, the mansion’s large holographic panel was forcibly overridden. Nick Fury's face appeared, eye-patch and all.
His complexion looked even darker and grimmer than usual.
[Níðhöggr, and Natasha Romanoff. This is your final warning. Natasha, return to base immediately. And Níðhöggr, for the unauthorized occupation of S.H.I.E.L.D. assets and the blatant insult to public authority—!]
"Ah, it's that bald guy again. Hey, Rata. Smash that screen."
Níðhöggr waved a hand dismissively. Fury didn't back down, raising his voice.
[If Romanoff is not returned, I will mobilize every available asset S.H.I.E.L.D. possesses to level Malibu to the ground! This is an ultimatum!]
Níðhöggr snorted, intending to ignore the threat.
However, Natasha, standing beside him, clung to his arm and whispered seductively into his ear.
"Nid, why don't we just go? Honestly, S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters is packed with beautiful, highly-trained female agents besides me. All of them have artistic hip lines."
At those words, Níðhöggr's eyes snapped open.
"What? A surplus of beautiful women? You should have said so from the start! Hey, Wallet! Rat! Pack your bags! We’re going to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters!"
Tony and Ratatoskr facepalmed in unison.
"Ugh, that absolute moron... Is there really nothing else in that head of his?"
"Even for a guy in 'Wallet status,' I have to agree there's no saving him, Rata. Let’s go. Might as well go for the show."
S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier Headquarters.
As Níðhöggr’s party emerged through a portal in the center of the base, hundreds of agents surrounded them, weapons drawn and aimed.
Níðhöggr didn't even look at the gun barrels; he was too busy scanning the body lines of the female agents.
Suddenly, a man in a military-inspired uniform pushed through the crowd.
With a robust physique and the face of a model citizen, it was Captain America, Steve Rogers, newly awakened after 70 years.
Níðhöggr’s eyes widened the moment he saw him.
"Oh? Hey, Thug Shield! You’re actually alive?"
Steve was equally shocked to see Níðhöggr.
"Could it be... Mr. Níðhöggr? The one who crushed Red Skull's base in 1945 and helped me? Good heavens... you haven't aged a single day."
"Like I told you back then, I'm a dragon. Sleeping for seventy years, though? You really have a rough life."
Steve gave a bitter smile and stepped forward, extending his hand.
"Thank you truly for your help back then. Without you, I wouldn't have made it out of there."
"Hmph, it was just a whim. Even a villain has to do something 'good' once in a while to keep the balance."
While Níðhöggr was being tsundere about the handshake, Nick Fury stomped onto the scene, fuming.
The moment he saw Natasha, he opened his mouth to unleash a lecture.
"Romanoff! Are you out of your mind?! How could you betray S.H.I.E.L.D. for a reptile like—!"
"Ugh, shut up already, you bald geezer!!!"
Ratatoskr, unable to take any more, leaped into the air and drove a precise knee-kick into Nick Fury’s jaw.
THWACK!
"Gah...!"
Fury didn't even get to scream before his eyes rolled back and he collapsed, tumbling across the floor.
The surrounding agents panicked and moved to fire, but Níðhöggr snapped his fingers, and every single firearm bent and twisted like soft taffy.
"The distraction is cleared. Now, let's see where the beautiful women are hiding."
Led by Natasha down the hallway, Níðhöggr spotted a woman radiating a cold, intellectual charm and a magnificent hip line. It was the Deputy Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., Maria Hill.
"Halt! Do you have any idea where you are—!"
Maria Hill pulled her handgun to stop him, but Níðhöggr was already right in her face.
He lowered his sunglasses slightly and gazed deeply into her eyes.
The 'Authority of Charm' surged forth at full power, accompanied by his decadent beauty.
"Wow, Natasha was right. S.H.I.E.L.D. has some real gems. Especially you—I quite like the lines hidden beneath that stiff uniform."
Maria Hill’s hand began to tremble.
The logic and coldness she was famous for shattered into dust under a single look from Níðhöggr's crimson eyes.
Her heart rate exploded, and a scorching heat surged through her entire body.
"You... just what... ugh..."
Maria Hill dropped her pistol to the floor.
Her pupils were already clouded with a haze of desire.
As if possessed, she grabbed Níðhöggr’s tie and dragged him into a nearby secure restroom.
"Here... this is a secure zone, so no one can come in... Hurry..."
Níðhöggr smirked and locked the restroom door.
Inside the cramped space, buttons from Maria Hill’s uniform scattered onto the floor. Shortly after, sounds far more intense and heated than any security breach at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters began to leak out past the door.
As Níðhöggr enjoyed Maria Hill’s fantastic curves, he took advantage of Nick Fury’s unconsciousness to turn the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters into his private bedroom.
Tony, Steve, and Ratatoskr were left in the corridor, staring blankly at nothing in the distance as they listened to the sounds.
"Captain, this is the true face of the 'hero' who saved you. Quite the disappointment, isn't it?"
"...The world has changed. Greatly. So very much..."
Ratatoskr muttered as he chewed his acorn.
"Dumbass... a total, complete dumbass..."
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