Tony, who had no idea what was going on, smirked.
"I don't think I'm late. Expecting Cap to handle that reindeer-looking guy alone is like expecting
to enjoy the neighbor's apple pie—it's just not happening."
Boom!!
With a thunderous roar and two streaks of fiery propulsion trailing behind him, Iron Man—Tony Stark—blasted onto the scene in his iconic red-and-gold armor.
"Soldiers!"
He landed hard with a tallic thud, weapons deployed. Repulsors charged in his palms, mini-missiles and micro-guns unfolded from his arms—all aid directly at... Blaine?
Blaine turned, frowning at Tony.
"Ah... oh..."
Tony gave a dry cough, quickly retracting all weapons in embarrassnt. He glanced at Loki, who was twitching on the ground like a broken animatronic, and let out a strained chuckle.
"Yeah... I'm definitely late."
"Yes, you really are late, Mr. Stark," Natasha added dryly from the Quinjet as she brought it in for a landing.
"Sheesh, Agent Romanoff, thanks for the echo."
Tony rolled his eyes, then turned to Blaine with an exaggerated grin.
"If soone had told
earlier that Mr. Hunter was already here, I wouldn't have bothered. Do people really still underestimate this guy's ability?"
Tony was obviously laying it on thick.
Blaine raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. Was this guy buttering him up for sothing?
"Mr. Stark, Blaine was only invited by us. He's not an Avenger," Natasha clarified after stepping out of the cockpit.
Hired?
She wouldn't dare say that—not with Blaine standing right there. "Invited" sounded better.
"Ohh, got it," Tony said, suddenly nodding in mock understanding. Then, glancing at Loki sprawled out on the floor, he asked,
"What about this guy?"
"Load him onto the Quinjet," Steve said. "We need to bring him back to HQ for containnt."
"Copy that."
Tony nodded, feigning deep thought.
"Looks like your brain didn't rust too badly after being frozen for seventy years."
Steve gave him a tight, disapproving glance, but let it go.
After all, Tony was the son of his old friend.
Blaine remained silent.
Now that the Avengers were gathering, tensions between their figureheads—Tony and Steve—were starting to show. It was inevitable.
As for Natasha, she stayed out of it.
She had been in S.H.I.E.L.D. for a long ti, knew things most people didn't. She was probably older than Blaine himself. She understood the issues between Steve and Tony and wasn't interested in playing referee. As long as they didn't start throwing punches, she didn't care.
Blaine picked up the still-spasming Loki and unceremoniously tossed him into the Quinjet, securing him with specially designed restraints—reinforced cuffs around his wrists and a neck collar.
These weren't ordinary shackles—they were tailored for enhanced beings. They wouldn't stop Thor, but they were more than enough to keep Loki in check.
Tony and Steve boarded the Quinjet, and Natasha returned to the pilot seat.
The aircraft lifted off smoothly.
Loki gradually regained composure during the flight, but remained silent. Instead, he simply stared at his captors with an amused, unreadable smile.
Blaine instantly understood why Loki was smiling. He just didn't care.
"Mr. Hunter," Tony suddenly said, as if rembering sothing important. He turned and gave Blaine a strange look—part confusion, part frustration.
"What?" Blaine asked, slightly uneasy. A cold shiver ran down his spine.
"Where did you get your new energy source?"
Tony looked unusually serious.
"I got it while ssing around," Blaine replied, instantly realizing where this was going.
Tony must've received the box of belongings S.H.I.E.L.D. had passed down from Howard Stark—his father. Tony probably thought it contained so breakthrough tech or another advanced energy blueprint.
Instead, he found it matched 'exactly' the energy module Blaine had shared with him.
Tony was stunned when he first saw the match. For a mont, he couldn't figure out whether his father had invented the energy source—or whether Blaine had sohow stolen or replicated it first.
'Did Blaine con ?'
That was the unspoken question echoing in Tony's mind.
Blaine, still casually using his mind-reading ability, read those exact thoughts and sighed inwardly.
'Yes, I did. You're welco.'
"Mr. Hunter," Tony asked quietly, "you do know the energy tech you showed
is exactly like what my father left behind?"
"Nope," Blaine said flatly, shaking his head.
No way was he admitting to anything.
Tony gave him a long, skeptical look.
He didn't buy it. He trusted Howard Stark far more than this mysterious Bounty Hunter. And even though he had known from the start that Blaine wasn't exactly a choir boy, getting played like that still stung a little.
But... whatever.
He couldn't afford to pick a fight with Blaine right now.
If Blaine really had tricked him, so be it. It was just money—a hundred million at most. That was nothing compared to what he stood to lose if Blaine ever got paid to take him out.
Tony was proud and confident, but he wasn't stupid.
He'd seen what Blaine could do. That kind of power was beyond anything Tony could match—at least for now.
But he wasn't going to mope about it.
This was just a temporary gap. He was Tony Stark—genius inventor. He'd built the Mark 3 armor in record ti. He'd catch up soon enough.
He didn't have to stop being confident, but even Tony knew when to adjust.
Blaine, still reading his thoughts, gave a slight nod of appreciation.
Smart man. Classic Tony Stark.
The cabin fell silent after that.
Boom!!
But the peace didn't last long.
As the Quinjet passed through a cluster of clouds, a dark storm front suddenly erged ahead—completely unmarked by weather scans.
"Boom!"
Thunder cracked and lightning surged across the sky.
Faced with such raw power, the jet suddenly felt very fragile.
"What's going on? There weren't any storm warnings on radar," Natasha said, frowning as she gripped the controls. As a trained pilot, she knew the weather forecasts like the back of her hand. This wasn't normal.
Lightning out of nowhere?
Loki, who had remained quiet until now, suddenly froze. His eyes widened in alarm.
"What? You afraid of a little thunder?" Steve asked from the side.
Loki gave a thin, mocking smile.
"No," he replied. "I'm not afraid of thunder."
"I'm just not overly fond of what follows."
*************************************
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