In the wilderness, lightning blinked, and the night sky was covered with dense clouds. With a gust of cold wind, heavy rain suddenly poured down.
The alarm from the temporary base prompted the ard personnel stationed inside to take action.
Coulson frowned before he took out a communicator, connected to the monitoring room, and inquired in a deep voice, "What's happening?"
The person on the other end of the communicator imdiately replied, "Sir, we just discovered that the unpowered protective net on the south side of the base has been breached. There is a tall, muscular blond man, over 1.8 ters, forcibly infiltrating the temporary base. He also knocked out two guards on duty and is heading towards the central research lab."
Coulson remained calm, saying coldly, "I see. Let the guards continue patrolling, leave the intruder to the SHIELD agents."
"Yes!"
After ending the communication, Coulson continued to dial a private and secure line. Soon, a dispassionate and magnetic male voice answered, "I'm here."
"The item inside the temporary research lab is very important. It's better to be safe," Coulson inford.
"Understood."
On the other end of the communication.
On the first-floor warehouse of the temporary base, a black-haired agent in a special forces uniform opened the door to the armory. His eagle-like gaze scanned the shelves displaying various types of firearms.
The black-haired agent picked up a modern sniper rifle, weighed it, quickly placed it back without hesitation, and took the top row of a special compound bow and a quiver containing many peculiar arrows.
Afterward, he briskly rushed out of the armory, ascended the stairs, and reached the rooftop after arriving on the third floor. He agilely crawled towards the temporary rooftop stand atop the base.
At this mont.
Inside the research do, Thor ran down the corridor while panting. As he approached a corner, a burly African-Arican agent blocked his way.
"Mortal, do not block my path!" Thor threatened with tightly clenched fists, listening to the thunder outside, and facing the agent who was half a head taller than himself.
The turmoil in Asgard compelled him not to waste ti here!
"You will be stopping here," The African-Arican agent sneered before he flexed his sandbag-sized fists, emitting cracking sounds from his joints.
Talking was useless; action was needed!
Thor roared a low growl, transford into a brute, and charged forward. He engaged in close combat with the African-Arican agent with his bare hands.
After a while, the two struggled and broke through the walls of the temporary research institute, tumbling into the open teorite crater.
Due to the pouring rain, the teorite crater had turned into a pockmarked muddy pit.
The two tall and robust n fell into it, instantly becoming muddy and disheveled. They disregarded everything, exchanging punches and kicks, making it difficult to determine who had the upper hand.
This scene unfolded clearly in front of Coulson on the second floor and the black-haired agent on the temporary rooftop.
The black-haired agent stood alone on the narrow rooftop, pulled out a special arrow, placed it on the fine string of the special compound bow, and aid it at the back of Thor's head in the pit.
Regardless of how close Thor and the African-Arican agent were, and despite their constant movent and changes in position during the battle, the sharp and cold arrowhead continuously adjusted its trajectory to follow the target.
"I'm in position. Do you need to eliminate the intruder?" The black-haired agent asked expressionlessly.
Hearing the voice coming from the communicator, Coulson pondered for a mont. Seeing that the intruder was about to knock down the African-Arican agent, he finally nodded slightly and gave the command, "Do it."
"Understood."
The black-haired agent's gaze was profound; he held his breath, unaffected by the heavy rain, and the hands holding the bow and arrow remained as steady as if they were chanically crafted.
Below the pit, Thor knocked the African-Arican agent down with a punch, shook his wet shoulder-length hair, and wearily walked toward the center of the pit where the silver hamr was located. Unaware of the imminent danger from above.
"It's over," The black-haired agent muttered in a low voice. Just as he was about to release the bowstring, allowing the special arrowhead to explode on Thor's head, a hand appeared from behind him, silently landing on the arrowhead. The hand pressed down, shifting the aim away from the intended target.
"What... who are you?" The black-haired agent shivered and turned around in a startled jump, only to find a young and handso silver-haired man standing right behind him, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.
"Using special bows and arrows... You must be Clint Barton, often ntioned by Natasha as 'Hawkeye,' right?" Kyle smiled as he looked down at Thor in the crater, speaking with a calm and dignified tone, "The person down there is my friend. I am asking that you refrain from shooting him."
"Who the hell are you?" Hawkeye was still in extre shock. As a sharpshooter, the thing he feared the most was enemies getting close to him, especially from behind, where he was defenseless.
But just now, from the mont the intruder appeared until the mont he intervened, with his highly vigilant sensitivity, he couldn't detect the slightest trace of abnormality.
The opponent seed to have appeared out of thin air. If it were a real enemy, he would have died countless tis!
Kyle didn't answer. If even his identity couldn't be guessed, it would be a disgrace to Hawkeye's hero alias.
"You ntioned Natasha just now, silver hair, and too young..." After half a second of stunned silence, Hawkeye retracted his bow, bowed with folded hands, and said with reverence, "Mr. Kyle."
"Not a bad perception." Kyle nodded, gesturing for him to be quiet and continuing to look down at the situation in the pit.
"Has he also arrived here?" Hearing the conversation on the communicator, Coulson was slightly stunned. Then, his expression beca serious, and his puzzled gaze also fell on Thor in the pit. "For him?"
Inside the rain-washed crater.
The mud on Thor's body gradually washed away, letting him heave a sigh of relief. He stopped next to the silver hamr.
His face carried a look of joy as he bent down, using his accustod right hand to grip the hamr handle, attempting to raise it high as he used to.
However, no matter how hard he tried, the hamr remained motionless.
Thor's smile froze on his face, and an awkward atmosphere pervaded the air.
He exerted both hands with undying determination, applying all his strength, but the fact that he couldn't lift the hamr remained unchanged.
Thor wearily released his hands. At this mont, he suddenly understood his current situation.
King Odin had banished him, and Mjolnir no longer recognized him. All his powers, godly abilities, honors, and pride were gone. He was truly inferior to even an ordinary mortal.
"Thunk!"
Thor knelt on the muddy ground beside the hamr, looking up at the vast night sky. Like a wounded beast, he let out a heart-wrenching roar in the pouring rain.
"As expected."
Kyle, who already knew the outco, wasn't surprised. He patted Hawkeye on the shoulder and said, "Use a tranquilizer, put him to sleep, and lock him up. An astronor will co to pick him up later. Just let him go then."
"Understood."
Hawkeye didn't understand Kyle's intentions but instinctively followed the order.
Since Kyle appeared, the highest authority had shifted to him from Coulson.
(End of this chapter)
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