Marvel x Genshin: Mavuika, The Sun Goddess Rules Asgard — Chapter 204

Chapter 204: Encounter

No one knew what had transpired in Wakanda; no one knew that Ultron had brought the entire world to the very brink of annihilation.

Tony Stark stood by the window of the Quinjet, gazing out at the clouds drifting past, his silence stretching for a long, heavy moment.

“Jarvis, what’s the status of Stark Tower?” he finally asked, his voice low.

“Sir, the tower is operating normally,” the AI’s calm voice replied through the jet’s internal comms. “Ultron did not breach the tower’s firewalls. Your private laboratory and the armor manufacturing center are both intact and secure.”

A slow, weary sigh of relief escaped Tony’s lips. “Finally, some good news.”

Dr. Banner, standing nearby, adjusted his glasses. “In that case, I’ll head back to the tower. The data fragments Ultron left behind still need to be purged and analyzed. I’ll need Jarvis’s assistance.”

Tony gave a short, affirmative nod.

“I will go to the tower as well,” Thor announced, his deep voice filling the cabin. “I have little to do back in Asgard for the time being, so I will see if there is any way I can be of help.”

Tony shot him a sideways glance. “You know how to repair advanced armor systems?”

Thor shook his head, his expression earnest. “No. But I can help you move things.”

Tony considered it for a second. It wasn’t a bad idea, he conceded. Thor certainly had more than enough strength for heavy lifting.

Thor then turned, his gaze falling upon his brother. “What about you, Loki?”

Loki was lounging back in his seat, the picture of indolent grace. “I’m returning to Big Sister’s villa,” he said with a lazy drawl. “Her garden requires watering.”

Thor’s lip curled in disdain. “You just don’t want to work.”

A faint, knowing smirk touched Loki’s lips. “And you do?”

Thor let out an indignant huff and turned away, refusing to engage further.

Seated in a quiet corner, Wanda and Pietro listened to the exchange. Pietro leaned closer to his sister, his voice a low whisper. “Wanda, where are we going?”

Wanda was quiet for a moment, her gaze distant. “Let’s go back with Mavuika.”

Pietro nodded without hesitation. They had grown accustomed to the quiet elegance of Mavuika’s villa, to the scent of lavender that drifted from the garden, and to the comforting aromas that so often wafted from the kitchen. While they wouldn’t yet call it ‘home,’ the place was beginning to feel more and more like one.

The jet descended smoothly, settling onto the helipad atop the soaring Stark Tower. Tony, Banner, and Thor disembarked. Standing on the familiar platform, Tony looked up at the building that pierced the clouds, a monument to his own genius, and took a deep, steadying breath.

“Jarvis, run a full system self-diagnostic.”

“Already underway, Sir. All systems are reporting normal. The laboratory has been preheated to your specifications, and the manufacturing center is on standby.”

Tony nodded, a flicker of his old energy returning. “Good. Let’s get to work.” He turned to look at Mavuika, who remained on the jet’s ramp. “You guys head back first. I expect I’ll be working around the clock for a while.”

Mavuika’s expression was gentle. “Don’t overwork yourself.”

A bitter smile twisted Tony’s lips. “Saying I’m not tired would be a lie, but there’s no way around it. The work is there, and it has to be done.”

He turned and strode toward the tower’s entrance, Banner falling into step beside him. Thor, Mjolnir slung casually over his shoulder, followed them. Just as he reached the door, the God of Thunder looked back at Mavuika, a broad grin splitting his face.

“Big Sister, I’ll be back for dinner tonight!”

Mavuika’s answering smile was warm. “Alright.”

The jet lifted off once more, banking gracefully as it set a course for Long Island. The sprawling streets of New York sped by below—the dense forest of skyscrapers in Manhattan, the residential grids of Queens, the iconic spans of the Brooklyn bridges. Everything was peaceful, bathed in the unassuming light of an ordinary morning.

Mavuika sat by the window, her gaze sweeping over the city, when her brow suddenly furrowed. She leaned forward almost imperceptibly, her amber eyes narrowing, their focus fixed on a specific, unseen point in the distance.

She could sense it. In some forgotten corner of New York, space itself was being torn apart.

This was not the glorious, radiant sundering of the Bifrost Bridge. This was something else entirely—something far more clandestine, more delicate. It was a cut made with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel.

“Stop,” she said, her voice cutting through the low hum of the engines.

Loki looked up from his book, his brow raised. “What’s wrong?”

Wanda and Pietro also turned their attention to her, their expressions questioning.

Mavuika didn’t answer immediately. She rose from her seat, moved to the rear hatch, and placed her hand on the release mechanism. “I feel something is amiss. Wait for me here.”

Loki closed his book with a soft snap and stood. “Big Sister, I’m coming with you.”

Mavuika glanced at him, then gave a slight nod. “Alright. Wanda, Pietro, you two stay on the plane.”

“No,” Wanda said, standing as well. Her tone was firm, leaving no room for argument. “We’re coming too.” Pietro immediately rose and stood by her side, a silent echo of her resolve.

Mavuika studied them for a moment, a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, before she nodded once more.

The hatch hissed open, revealing the open air hundreds of feet above the city. Without a second thought, Mavuika stepped out. Golden-red flames bloomed beneath her feet, cushioning her fall and guiding her in a slow, controlled descent.

Loki followed, a shimmering aura of green magic enveloping him as he drifted down behind her. Wanda’s hands glowed with a deep, chaotic red, the energy holding both her and her brother aloft as they descended to the street below.

Pietro’s feet touched the pavement, and he stretched his legs, looking around. “So, what’s here?”

Mavuika didn’t answer. She stood on a quiet street corner, surrounded by ordinary New York blocks—old brick apartment buildings, a small coffee shop on the corner, and a few elderly residents walking their dogs in the early morning sun. Everything looked utterly, deceptively normal.

But she could feel it, less than twenty meters ahead of them. A rift.

It wasn’t a physical tear in the asphalt or a crack in a wall. It was a rift in the very fabric of space, hanging like a transparent, heatless scar over the sidewalk. Ordinary people couldn’t see it, couldn’t feel it, but to Mavuika’s senses, it was as clear as day.

She walked forward until she stood directly before it, then slowly raised her hand.

The moment her palm made contact, the air itself rippled. The distortion wasn’t like waves on water, but like a disturbance in the geometry of the world—as if a stone had been cast into the calm lake of reality, sending concentric waves of warped space swirling outward.

“Back up,” she commanded softly.

Loki took a deliberate step back. Wanda, pulling Pietro with her, did the same.

Mavuika raised her hand again, her fingers brushing against the unseen architecture of the world. The touch, as gentle as a hand sweeping across the surface of a pond, was all it took to tear the rift wide open.

Space began to shatter. It didn’t crack slowly; it fractured violently, like a pane of glass struck by a heavy hammer. A web of countless fissures spread out from the point of her touch, emitting a blinding light that flared like captured lightning.

Loki’s eyes narrowed in recognition. “The Mirror Dimension.”

Wanda frowned, her gaze fixed on the impossible sight. “What is the Mirror Dimension?”

Loki offered no explanation. He simply watched as the cracks continued to expand, the ‘mirror’ of their reality peeling away piece by piece to reveal another world hidden behind it.

That world was an identical reflection of the street they stood on—the same apartment buildings, the same coffee shop, the same weathered streetlights. But here, space was subtly distorted, and the air was stagnant and heavy. There was no wind, no sound, no sign of life.

The Mirror Dimension—a perfect reflection of the real world, a parallel dimension created and maintained by sorcerers. It was a place where battles could be fought without any consequence or damage to reality.

Mavuika stepped through the shimmering threshold, her expression unreadable. Loki followed a half-step behind her. After a shared, uncertain glance, Wanda and Pietro entered as well.

As Pietro’s feet touched the street of the Mirror Dimension, the stone slabs beneath them made a sharp, crunching sound—not the grating of stone on stone, but the distinct, crystalline shattering of glass. Every step he took left a network of fine cracks in his wake, as if he were walking on impossibly thin ice.

“This place…” Pietro said, his voice a low murmur, “it feels really strange.”

Wanda didn’t speak, but the dark red light coalescing around her hands grew brighter, more potent.

Mavuika walked at the front of their small group, her gaze locked on the far end of the street.

There, someone was fighting.

It was no ordinary street brawl. This was a duel between sorcerers. Kaleidoscopic bursts of magical light crisscrossed in the silent air. Shimmering blades of pure spatial energy flew like deadly darts, striking the mirrored buildings and carving deep, silent gashes into their crystalline surfaces.