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Chapter 102: Crazy Pierce, Dark Clouds of War!
🕑 Added 2025-03-15 13:43:11 +0000 UTC"Aaron, it seems the people of Midgard still haven't let go of their pride and still entertain the idea of fighting us."
Sif glanced disdainfully at the police and army, who were eyeing them cautiously.
To her, these people were not even worthy opponents.
Did they really think holding broken weapons made them a threat to the warriors of Asgard?
Poor fools… they still had no idea who they were dealing with.
"Just a bunch of cowards," Amora scoffed, barely glancing up as she idly examined her nails. "Midgard doesn’t even have real men. If it weren’t for us, they would have been wiped out countless times."
In Amora’s eyes, any man who couldn’t resist her charm wasn’t truly a man.
And right now, she hadn't even used magic, yet they were already lost in her presence.
Compared to Aaron, they were nothing.
Indeed, only her master was a real man.
She cast a seductive glance at Aaron, her eyes brimming with admiration.
This, of course, did not sit well with Jean, who was possessed by the Dark Phoenix.
She loathed the way other women set their sights on Aaron.
It wasn’t just Jean’s emotions at play but also the possessiveness of the Dark Phoenix.
She embodied darkness, and Aaron was supposed to be hers alone.
"They won’t understand pain until they receive a proper lesson," Aaron said.
"That’s the problem with this country. They haven’t been bloodied in too long."
He shook his head, as if explaining an inevitable truth.
Yes, the United States—whether before or after his arrival—remained the same.
Even S.H.I.E.L.D.
"Then let’s teach them a lesson and make them behave!" Sif replied without hesitation.
She was a warrior, born and bred, unafraid of war.
And if Asgard waged war against Earth, it would be nothing but a one-sided slaughter.
Aaron, however, stopped her. "War is the last resort. If they behave, there’s no need for such trouble. If they don’t… then we make them bleed."
Sif nodded. The decision was Aaron’s to make.
He was their true leader, the one all three of them acknowledged without question.
Just as they reached an intersection, Aaron suddenly stopped.
"Would you like some ice cream?"
"Ice cream?" Sif frowned. "What’s that?"
"It’s a frozen milk dessert from Earth, and it’s delicious," Jean explained.
"A Midgard delicacy? I suppose I could try it… though it seems they don’t welcome us," Sif noted, eyeing the ice cream shop.
Though the shop was still open, the vendors looked far from ordinary.
Three men stood nearby. One of them, an older man with gray hair in a suit, exuded a powerful presence. His aura was fierce, and he carried himself like someone who had held a high-ranking position for a long time.
"He’s a soldier. A general," Sif affirmed.
"They may not welcome us," Aaron acknowledged, "but it’s not up to them to decide."
The general was none other than Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross.
At this moment, he had not yet transitioned into politics, but it was only a matter of time.
A general appearing here of all places was an unusual signal.
Aaron expanded his senses, detecting a heavy military presence across the city.
Tanks, armored vehicles, armed helicopters…
Snipers were perched in nearby buildings, their crosshairs locked onto them.
Some even held anti-tank weapons.
It was clear that if Aaron or his companions displayed any hostility, an overwhelming barrage of firepower would rain down upon them.
Yet it was pointless.
Aaron smirked. With a flick of his hand, four ice creams materialized.
"This is…" Sif trailed off.
"I conjured them," Aaron replied, handing each of them one before taking a bite himself.
The ice cream, created with his materialization magic, was identical to what the shop offered.
It was real food, capable of satisfying hunger.
Not that hunger meant anything to Aaron anymore.
For him, eating was unnecessary—except when Jean prepared food for him.
That was the only time he indulged.
As they walked away, one of the ice cream vendors spoke up.
"General Ross, are they the gods we were told to monitor? They don’t seem so special."
"Yeah, General, even the mighty gods enjoy our food?" another scoffed.
Ross raised a hand to silence them.
"Shut up. They haven’t left earshot yet," he warned.
"Why so tense? They don’t seem as terrifying as the rumors claim. Do we really need to mobilize so many—"
"I said, shut up!" Ross snapped.
Cold sweat trickled down his forehead.
A moment ago, a voice had echoed in his ear—a voice he recognized all too well.
It belonged to the so-called "God of Magic."
The man had casually greeted him, addressing him by name and military rank, before advising him to get a medical checkup.
It was chilling.
Aaron had overheard their conversation.
No—he likely knew everything already.
The entire military deployment…
Yet he simply walked the streets without a care, unfazed by their forces.
Had his mind been probed?
The thought sent a shiver down Ross’s spine.
But he was a seasoned general.
He had hunted the Hulk multiple times, possessing vast experience in dealing with extraordinary beings.
That was why he had been assigned to lead this operation—to prepare for a potential war.
Ross exhaled slowly.
If things went south today, he was certain he wouldn’t survive.
Meanwhile, the politicians in Washington had conveniently "left to visit other locations" the moment Aaron arrived.
None had remained behind.
"Damn politicians… always leaving us to die on the front lines," Ross muttered, rubbing his temples.
A wave of nausea hit him. He felt inexplicably unwell.
Steeling himself, he made a decision.
Once this operation was over, he would go into politics.
No more fighting wars for cowards in suits.
Aaron and his companions soon arrived at the headquarters of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Waiting for them was Phil Coulson, ever the diligent civil servant.
"God of Magic, ladies, please follow me," Coulson said with professional courtesy.
"Our director has prepared all relevant materials ahead of your arrival."
Aaron barely acknowledged him with a nod.
Instead, he took in the sight of the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters—previously something he had only seen on a screen.
To the untrained eye, it looked like an ordinary building, save for the high-tech enhancements.
As they walked, agents stole curious glances at them.
Word had already spread about Asgard, and now, seeing the rumored gods in person, even trained professionals couldn’t suppress their curiosity.
That was when Aaron sensed a scrutinizing gaze.
He turned, locking eyes with a middle-aged man wearing a helmet similar to Magneto’s.
"Who is he?" Aaron asked.
"He’s the former director of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the current head of the Security Council—Alexander Pierce," Coulson explained.
Aaron arched an eyebrow, offering Pierce a knowing smile.
Pierce instinctively took a step back, as if trying to escape his gaze.
But he couldn’t shake the sensation of being seen through—completely exposed.
A mistake.
He should have left Washington, just like the others.
Despite wearing Magneto’s helmet, designed to block telepathic intrusion, he felt anything but safe.
Could the helmet truly protect him?
Doubt gnawed at him.
He discreetly picked up his phone.
"Is everything in place?" he murmured.
"Yes, sir. Three divisions are stationed in Washington. Two aircraft carriers have their guns trained on the city, and five air wings are on standby."
"What about our people?"
"They’ve all left Washington under various pretenses. The only ones remaining are agents with no knowledge of our operations."
"Good."
Pierce exhaled.
With HYDRA safely evacuated, there was no way the so-called God of Magic could trace them.
Still, he arranged for a private jet—ready to flee at a moment’s notice.
Because despite everything…
Something about Aaron terrified him.
And that was enough reason to run.
On the other side,
Phil Coulson led Aaron into a conference room.
Across the table sat the Avengers, all seated in a straight line. Opposite them, a row of empty chairs had been deliberately arranged—clearly reserved for Aaron and his group.
At first glance, it looked like a negotiation.
A negotiation between the Avengers and Asgard.
Interesting…
Aaron smiled and sat indifferently at the head of the table.
Sif and the others took their seats beside him.
Across from Aaron, Dr. Banner suddenly clutched his wrist, his entire body trembling as if he had just seen something terrifying. He looked like he was struggling to keep himself under control.
"What’s going on? Don’t lose it now!" Tony Stark instinctively shifted away.
"It’s not me—it’s Hulk! He’s nervous. He feels threatened. He wants to leave… escape this place!"
Banner turned his gaze toward Aaron and Jean.
Through his connection with Hulk’s spirit, he sensed an overwhelming power radiating from the two of them—power that made even the Hulk tremble.
"Could it be them? Are they really that terrifying?"
Tony noticed Banner’s uneasy expression and twitched the corner of his mouth.
It looks like we need to rethink our plan…
They had barely sat down, and already their strongest fighter was on the verge of fleeing.
Outrageous.
Banner nodded to himself and lowered his head, focusing all his efforts on calming Hulk’s mind. If he lost control here, the consequences would be catastrophic.
At that moment, Nick Fury seized the opportunity to shift everyone’s focus.
"Welcome, God of Magic from Asgard. I am Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. Although we are meeting for the first time, I am sure you are already familiar with us."
Aaron wasn’t interested in playing word games with Fury.
The man was a master manipulator, an intelligence veteran skilled in extracting information through conversation.
Ordinary people would easily reveal their hand while speaking with him.
Aaron had no interest in entertaining such a game.
"Cut to the chase. You know why I’m here."
Nick Fury, understanding the situation, nodded and pulled out four documents, placing them on the table.
"This is our show of sincerity."
But his preparations turned out to be unnecessary.
Only Aaron picked up a file to skim through it—Sif and the others didn’t even bother.
This confirmed something for Fury.
Aaron was the one in charge.
And likely held a position of great authority even in Asgard.
As Aaron flipped through the pages, he skipped past the diplomatic pleasantries and focused on the key details.
The United States had paid a heavy price for appeasing Asgard’s anger.
Dozens of senators were imprisoned.
Hundreds of government staffers and politicians were implicated.
Among them were high-ranking military officials—one of them even a major general.
The former president had been accused of endangering global peace and was now in custody.
Hundreds of officials, both major and minor, had been arrested.
Some were executed on the spot.
Even S.H.I.E.L.D. agents weren’t spared—dozens had fallen in the purging efforts.
It was clear that those who were arrested or killed were all tied to HYDRA.
The United States had been forced to cut off its own tail to survive, ensuring Asgard wouldn’t pursue further retaliation.
Nick Fury spoke in a deep voice. "Regarding the nuclear incident, we offer our sincerest apologies. It was the reckless decision of a few ambitious traitors among us."
"To prove our sincerity, we spent an entire year hunting them down. Not a single one was left unaccounted for."
Aaron scoffed.
"Really?"
His eyes were cold. "Do you take us for fools?"
Nick Fury’s expression darkened. "Our sincerity is undeniable!"
The others agreed.
Even Tony Stark, who normally despised politicians, sided with Fury on this one.
After all, the United States had never gone to such lengths before.
A president and dozens of senators had been imprisoned.
Thousands of people were involved in the purging efforts.
This was unprecedented in U.S. history.
Even Tony couldn’t argue against the effort that had been made.
If this wasn’t sincerity, then what was?
What more did they expect—completely replacing every government official in the country?
Everyone in the room firmly believed that those arrested were responsible for the nuclear attack.
The scale of the operation was staggering—countless resources and manpower had been dedicated to it.
And if it weren’t for Asgard’s overwhelming strength, the United States never would have made such concessions.
If it had been any other nation, they would have chosen war over such humiliation.
At this point, if Asgard still wasn’t satisfied, then they were clearly looking for an excuse to start a conflict.
In that case, they were ready to fight.
They would rather die than be continuously humiliated.
Aaron’s cold voice shattered the tense silence.
"Sincerity? This is what you call sincerity? The real culprit is inside this very building, yet you’re trying to appease us by sacrificing some unlucky pawns?"
Nick Fury frowned. "That’s impossible! Are you accusing me?"
The idea was absurd.
Who else in S.H.I.E.L.D. had the power to orchestrate such an event?
Wait…
Suddenly, Fury’s mind flashed back to something.
There was one other person.
Alexander Pierce.
The former Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.
The current head of the World Security Council.
Fury recalled how Pierce had once warned that the Security Council might take extreme measures.
Could it really have been him?
Damn it. How did I overlook this?
Everything suddenly made sense.
Aaron didn’t wait for Fury to put the pieces together.
"Let’s go."
Without another word, he rose from his seat, leading Sif and the others away.
They walked past the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents as if they weren’t even there.
Their destination—the top floor.
Phil Coulson turned to Fury. "What should we do, Director?"
Fury’s expression was grim. "Follow them. Let’s see if my suspicions are correct."
The others followed suit.
When they reached the top floor, they ran straight into Alexander Pierce.
The old man was on his way to the roof, about to board a helicopter and make his escape.
When he saw them—especially Aaron at the front—his heart skipped a beat.
Suppressing his panic, he forced a smile. "I don’t know what brings the esteemed guests of Asgard to me."
Nick Fury didn’t waste any time.
"Pierce! Were you behind the nuclear attack?"
He needed to act fast—before Aaron did.
If Aaron took the lead, things would spiral out of control.
Pierce’s face twisted into an expression of anger and disbelief.
"How dare you accuse me! That order was signed by the former president. How could I have influenced him?"
"Do you take the Security Council for a military dictatorship?!"
Nick Fury glanced at Aaron.
Aaron’s gaze was fixed on Pierce’s helmet.
And in that instant, Fury understood.
"Pierce, if you have nothing to hide, take off your helmet and let Charles check your mind."
Pierce's complexion changed wildly. He knew that things were going to be a big deal.
If Charles checked his mind, all his secrets would be exposed.
Not just about the nuclear strike incident—but everything.
HYDRA’s influence. Their hidden agents within S.H.I.E.L.D and the government. Their future plans.
Everything.
So Pierce made his decision in an instant.
"Kill them!"
The hidden agents around him suddenly sprang into action, pulling out their weapons and aiming at Aaron and the others.
But before a single shot could be fired—
BOOM!
A terrifying invisible force exploded from Aaron’s body.
All the agents were thrown backward like ragdolls, smashing into walls and furniture.
Some coughed up blood immediately, unable to withstand the pressure.
Aaron didn’t even lift a finger. He simply stood there, his eyes glowing with an eerie light.
The entire building seemed to tremble at his presence.
Pierce, on the other hand, felt an invisible force gripping his body, lifting him off the ground.
He struggled, but it was useless.
"A-Aaron…!" He could barely breathe, his face turning red.
"You are nothing but a parasite hiding in the shadows," Aaron said coldly. "And parasites… must be crushed."
His grip tightened, and Pierce screamed in pain.
"Wait! We can negotiate!" Pierce gasped. "I can give you information! Resources! Anything!"
Aaron tilted his head, amused. "Oh? And why would I need anything from a corpse?"
A sickening crack echoed in the room.
Pierce’s body went limp.
Dead.
Nick Fury exhaled deeply, watching as the corpse fell to the floor.
The Avengers were silent.
Even Tony Stark, who always had something to say, found himself at a loss for words.
"You… really just killed him," Steve Rogers muttered.
Aaron dusted off his hands, as if he had just swatted a fly. "What, should I have let him go? Given him a slap on the wrist? People like him don’t change, Captain."
Nick Fury pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you have any idea what this will cause?"
Aaron shrugged. "A bit of chaos, sure. But trust me—if I hadn’t done it, HYDRA would still be playing you like a puppet."
Nick Fury fell silent.
Because, deep down, he knew Aaron was right.
Pierce had been a snake hiding in plain sight.
If left alive, he would have caused even greater destruction in the future.
"Well," Tony finally spoke up, clapping his hands together. "I guess that’s one way to solve a problem."
Jean Grey stepped forward, glancing at Aaron. "Are we done here?"
Aaron nodded. "Yes. HYDRA just lost one of its heads. It’ll take time for them to recover, but they always do. I just wanted to send them a message."
"And what message is that?" Thor asked.
Aaron’s lips curled into a smirk.
"That the next time they try to mess with me… I won’t just take a head."
