A/N
Apologies for my unexplained hiatus! I just recently got into BBC Sherlock fanfics and some Wolverine comics, so to put it shortly I reverted back into my 'reader' state for a while. But I'm back (with a pretty long chapter at that, too)!
Just to let you readers know, this story is based loosely on the trailer for the actual movie, but I'm planning to make this more different from what the movie has planned.
Without further ado, onto the chapter!
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Peter Parker sat in the middle row of the school bus, unable to shake the feeling that something wrong was happening. He could feel it in his gut, like a frightened, coiled viper ready to strike at any moment - and he was certain it wasn't because of their Decathlon.
Flash thought it was nerves; Betty was convinced he had a stomach bug; MJ believed he sensed an upcoming global apocalypse and Abe blamed Ned for perhaps tasering his best friend; due to all the tinkering Ned had found an obsession for recently.
The latter, of course, was due to the amount of time Ned spent hacking into gadgets to help Peter with his secret nighttime occupation: crime-fighting.
Speaking of which, Peter found he quite enjoyed his 'friendly neighbourhood job' after he declined Tony's Avenger offer - he understood now that being an Avenger was more than just the amazing title and boasting rights: it came with responsibility, experience, consequences and was just as much of protecting the good as it was defeating the bad.
Besides, just the fact Tony Stark had asked him to join the group was enough of a milestone for Peter; and he didn't need to prove himself to anyone else.
Bzzt bzzt.
"Someone text you?"
Peter started slightly, resisting his Spidey instinct to jump to the ceiling.
Dammit, MJ. Please warn me BEFORE you sneak up on me!
"Er...yeah." Peter quickly fished his phone from his pocket, scanning the text quickly.
His eyes widened, just at the same moment he felt a tingle at his skin. Looking up, he saw every hair standing up on his arm - his Spidey sense was calling.
"What?" Michelle asked, concerned.
A shudder suddenly shook the bus, causing every kid to look up.
"What's that?" Abe shouted, pointing at the massive, spiralling grey machine that had planted itself in the center of the city. Kids pulled down bus windows for a better glimpse at the monstrosity, gawking in awe.
While MJ was distracted, Peter quickly took a picture of the alien structure and elbowed Ned; hustling them to an empty seat on the other side of the bus.
"Look." He stated, shoving his phone urgently into Ned's hands. Ned took it for a second, scrolling through; then returned the device as he tried to reason with his friend.
"Towers falling from the sky and then this - this is Avengers' work, not yours, and you said you didn't want to be in the Avengers anymore, which I still don't get-"
"No, Ned, the point is, something wrong is happening." Peter rubbed his temples. "Even though I turned down Mr. Stark's offer, still, someone has to do something....I'll let him know and hopefully he'll do something."
"I'm sure Stark already knows," Ned said, confused.
"Not talking about Stark." The teenage superhero replied ominously as he checked his phone again; leaving his best friend and guy-in-the-chair wondering who could he possibly be talking about.
---
*Few weeks back*
Thor watched anxiously from his hiding spot as a squad of aliens marched past, chittering incoherently. On this planet, of which Thor didn't know the name, large flaming bases fired tall towers into the sky periodically; and the plains crawled with alien troops.
In the areas that weren't flat stood giant, empty pieces of rubble, some that looked like remnants of a ship and others that resembled disturbingly twisted limbs of robots.
Currently, Thor was hiding behind what could have been an arm; waiting for the right moment to sneak himself on a ship and get himself to the right destination - Midgard, or as the Midgardians called it, Earth.
A little while after Scorpio had thrown him with the unconscious girl on their original path of Midgard, Thor had seen it again: the same, giant ship held responsible for taking Loki and Heimdall, and for taking him off his own ship.
And apparently, it had seen him too.
In one fluid motion, the great ship from a far distance away had fired a missile at him: approximately two meters in diameter with a contact-activated detonating tip judging from the flashing light placed there.
And once again, the lost king of Asgard had to make a split-second decision - take a chance, and catch the bomb with the girl, or throw the girl to earth so he could fully control the bomb. The latter was the safer option, even though it jeopardized his opportunity to get to Midgard. The girl had to get to Midgard, and Thor had to trust Scorpio to hold his end of the bargain.
Thor had cradled the girl to his chest, whispering the strongest protection spell he knew in all of Asgard. Then, craning his arm back, he hurled the girl with all his might towards Midgard.
She would be safe.
Thor had then turned towards the oncoming missile, bracing himself for the impact. He jumped - dodging the tip, and throwing his arms around the missile's base. He grimaced as his arms were suddenly jerked in a different direction than he had been travelling, and struggled to climb atop the missile.
With its target suddenly lost, the missile's flashing light blinked out and it gunned its fire back to its mothership - or rather, motherland. Thor had held on for dear life and watched helplessly as Midgard behind him blinked out of sight.
Now, on this alien planet the missile had brought him to, Thor realized he might get a chance to go back to Midgard a lot sooner than he'd anticipated - and it wasn't a good thing.
Each tall tower lined up on the plains resembled a slim rocket, packed with multiple cubicles of countless alien larvae. In the center, alien soldiers dragged unwilling animals and other beings to a seat seemingly reinforced by electricity. Most of the captives looked exhausted, some sickened by the activity around them and others stoic - with no emotion whatsoever.
A captive with braided hair and ripped clothes marched among them, one arm stuck in an awkward makeshift splint. As he turned his head towards the wreckage in which Thor hid in, the thunder god was struck by the familiarity the captive's face carried and how his eyes flashed a dull, yet noticeable orange as he passed.
Wait...I know that man! Thor made to spring up in his hiding spot, but froze as the captive lifted a finger to his lips and shook his head.
"Peace, my king. Your brother has escaped the Mad Titan's side, and he knows only the whereabouts of one Infinity Stone."
Suddenly, Thor was not behind the wreckage anymore - he marched along the procession of captives, each bound by a pair of shackles and a single, long chain. Occasionally one struggling captive would be removed from the chain and led into the tall, tower-like object.
"Each tower requires one of us to power the inside. A captive is put into a seat, which they are to stay in or be electrocuted by. They are the fuel." Heimdall explained, off Thor's unspoken question.
"What do they fuel?" Thor asked, although he already had a faint idea of the answer.
"Every tower houses thousands - maybe millions - of alien offspring. Once the tower takes off, the interior begins incubation. Alien larvae grow into soldiers, and feed on the captive for nutrition."
"Heimdall, where do these towers go?" Thor pressed, not caring about the towers he walked through nor the guards who looked at the Golden Gatekeeper strangely.
"The very same realm you swore to protect. Midgard." Heimdall chuckled dryly. "Destiny seems to have dire plans for you, my friend."
"Well, I've got dire plans for destiny." Thor replied, his stormy eyes hard and determined. Heimdall simply stared ahead as his connection with the king of Asgard vanished, leaving him marching alone in a long trail of prisoners.