Marvel x Genshin: Mavuika, The Sun Goddess Rules Asgard — Chapter 167

Chapter 167: I Join

Tony leaned against the car, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his gaze lost in the fractured sky visible through the canopy of oak branches overhead. For once, he was silent. The habitual, nonchalant mask he wore for the world had slipped away, replaced by a rare and uncharacteristic quietness.

Nearby, Thor squatted by a low garden fence, his warrior’s focus unexpectedly captivated by a cluster of rose bushes, his large finger gently tracing the edge of a crimson petal.

Mavuika stood beside the car, her posture serene as she watched the front door of the small house. The afternoon sun caught in her long, golden-red hair, making it shimmer with a warm, fiery luster. She was a point of absolute stillness in the waiting world.

From inside the vehicle, Bruce Banner poked his head out, clutching a bottle of water. “They… how much longer are they going to be?” he asked, his voice soft.

Tony shrugged, the motion barely disturbing his pose. “Who knows? They haven’t seen each other in seventy years. If it were me, I’d need a full day just to get started.”

Banner fell quiet for a moment, his eyes distant. “Seventy years,” he murmured. “I feel like seven months is an eternity not to see someone.”

No one replied. The only sounds that filled the air were the sigh of the wind through the trees and the faint, rhythmic crash of waves from the distant shore. This small town on the North Shore of Long Island was so tranquil it felt like a world apart from New York City. There was none of the relentless hustle of Manhattan, none of the crowded energy of Brooklyn; only small houses scattered amongst the woods, their lawns neatly trimmed. The few cars that passed by moved at a speed that was more of a leisurely stroll than a drive.

Howard Stark had probably chosen this place for Bucky precisely for its deep peace. A man who had endured decades of torture at the hands of HYDRA didn’t need the clamor of prosperity; he needed the solace of quiet.

Time stretched, measured by the slow crawl of the sun across the sky. It moved from its zenith to a low angle in the west, pulling the shadows of the trees into long, distorted shapes across the lawn. At one point, Tony drove to a nearby convenience store, returning with bottled water and a stack of sandwiches that he passed around. Thor, without ceremony, devoured three in quick succession and licked his fingers, looking as if he could easily handle more.

Finally, as evening began to bleed into the sky, the door opened. The setting sun had painted the horizon in strokes of brilliant gold and deep crimson.

Steve Rogers stepped out first. His eyes were slightly red-rimmed, but a faint smile touched his lips—not the confident grin of Captain America, but something softer, more fragile. It was the look of a man who had just set down a weight he’d carried for a lifetime, a quiet reverence for something precious he thought was lost forever.

Bucky followed a step behind him. He was wearing a faded blue sweater and looked worlds more relaxed than he had when he’d first appeared at the door. His hair was a bit disheveled, but within his gray-blue eyes, a light that had been extinguished for decades had finally, tentatively, been rekindled.

The two men stopped on the porch, sharing a silent glance. Steve reached out and gently patted Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky gave a small, firm nod in return. Then, together, they walked toward the cars.

The door of the other vehicle opened and Nick Fury emerged. He had been waiting patiently the entire time, unwilling to intrude on a reunion seventy years overdue. He strode over to meet Steve and Bucky, his dark face an unreadable mask. Yet, his single eye, usually a storm of calculation and suspicion, held a rare stillness, something that might have been mistaken for gentleness.

“Finished talking?” he asked.

Steve nodded. “We’re finished.”

Fury was silent for a second, letting the weight of that simple statement settle. Then he spoke, his voice lacking its usual clipped urgency, instead taking on a measured, deliberate cadence. “Steve. Bucky. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Steve simply looked at him, waiting.

Fury’s gaze moved from Steve to Bucky, then shifted to include Banner, and finally swept over Tony and the Asgardian siblings. “Actually,” he amended, “it concerns everyone present.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Here we go again?”

Fury ignored the jibe. “You all know this world is becoming more dangerous,” he continued, his tone turning serious. “Alien threats, super-powered crime, disasters we can’t even predict… The power of S.H.I.E.L.D. alone is not enough. We need help.”

He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in. “I have a proposal. It’s called the ‘Avengers Initiative.’ The idea is to gather a group of remarkable people, to see if they could become something more. To fight the battles that we never could, for when the need arises.”

His eye fixed on Steve. “Captain, you’re a hero of World War II. You know better than anyone that some wars can’t be won alone.”

Steve remained silent, his expression thoughtful.

Fury turned to Bucky. “Sergeant Barnes, your experience is more complicated than anyone’s, but you survived it. You have the skills, you have the experience, and this world needs people like you.”

Bucky didn’t answer, his gaze flickering briefly toward Steve.

Next, Fury addressed Banner, his tone softening with a surprising sincerity. “Dr. Banner, I’m aware of your history with the military. I know you have concerns about official organizations. But I assure you, the Avengers is not a prison. It’s not a laboratory, and it’s not a tool to turn you into a weapon.” He let that hang in the air. “We need your mind, and we need your strength. But all of this would be entirely on your terms, based on your own will.”

Banner’s jaw was tight, his silence long and heavy.

Finally, Fury’s gaze fell upon Tony and Mavuika. “Tony. Your Highness Mavuika. Your Highnesses Thor and Loki.” He took a breath. “I know you might not be interested, but I still want to extend a formal invitation. The terms are flexible. The Avengers will not restrict the freedom of its members. We would only assemble to solve problems when necessary. The rest of the time, you can do whatever you want, go wherever you want.”

He had shed the authoritative air of the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. His tone was stripped of its usual command, leaving behind something raw and sincere, almost a plea.

“I know you don’t need S.H.I.E.L.D., and you don’t need the Avengers,” he said, his voice low. “But this world needs you.”

A deep silence descended upon the group.

Thor scratched his head, looking to Mavuika for guidance. Loki, leaning against the car door with an elegant slouch, wore a faint, ambiguous smile and said nothing at all.

Tony was the first to break the quiet. “Director Fury,” he began, his voice laced with that instinctive, almost allergic rejection he had for any form of organization. “I appreciate the sincerity. But—” He spread his hands in a gesture of finality. “I’m Iron Man. I can handle most trouble on my own. For the things I can’t, I’ll figure out a way. So, thank you for the invitation, but I’m not interested.”

Fury simply nodded, making no attempt to persuade him. He had expected nothing less from Tony Stark.

Mavuika spoke next, her voice as calm and steady as a deep river. “Director Fury, my brothers and I are of Asgard. We will not join any organization on Earth. This is not a question of sincerity, but a matter of our position.”

“Alright,” Fury said, his expression unchanging. “I understand.”

Thor offered a good-natured grin and spread his hands wide, a silent apology. Loki gave a slight, graceful bow, the gesture polite but the refusal absolute. Fury showed no sign of disappointment; he had never truly expected these “gods” to enlist. His true focus had always been on Steve, Bucky, and Banner.

Steve stood motionless, the silence stretching around him. He looked at Fury, his blue eyes holding a complex depth, a history that spanned seventy years of loss and dislocation.

“Director Fury,” he finally said, his voice deep and resolute. “When I woke up, I was in a completely strange world. My friends were all old, or they were gone. Everything I was familiar with had vanished.”

He took a slow breath, his gaze unwavering. “I thought I would just keep drifting like this, with no idea where to go or what to do.”

He looked directly at Fury. “But you gave me a direction. Bucky being alive… that’s a direction. This world needing protection… that’s also a direction.”

He straightened his shoulders, a flicker of the old captain settling back into his posture.

“I join.”