A Wizard, and a powerful one at that.
For the S.H.I.E.L.D. Strike Team to forcibly take the Mind Scepter from John Wick's hands would be a feat comparable to clearing out the Chitauri invaders all over again.
Barton stood to the side, arms crossed, offering no comment.
Loki, however, let out a derisive laugh. "See, Wizard? They are never truly on your side."
"Shut up, Loki!" Thor's face darkened as he produced a muzzle and secured it over his brother's mouth. He found himself conflicted, unsure whose side he should be on in this unfolding confrontation.
John's gaze settled on Tony.
After a moment's thought, Tony began, "John..."
"I think I know what you're thinking," John interrupted, then calmly handed the Scepter to the agent before him. "Then our cooperation should end here."
He was surprisingly nonchalant.
Looking at the bald agent, Sitwell, he offered a slight, almost challenging smile. "Make sure you hold it steady, Sitwell."
Sitwell returned a smile that seemed to dance with danger. "I will, Mr. Wick."
John walked past Natasha, positioning himself near the Hulk.
Natasha hesitated, a word on the tip of her tongue, but ultimately remained silent. Barton, noticing her internal struggle, gently patted her shoulder.
"Mr. Wick," Rumlow, the captain of the S.H.I.E.L.D. Strike Team, spoke up, his tone official. "We are acting under orders."
John gave a slight nod and said nothing more.
The Hulk, beside him, was still intently studying the new pants John had given him.
"There are a few other styles," John commented idly. "You can try them if you're interested, Hulk."
This remark seemed to make John even more agreeable in the Hulk's eyes.
John's own eyes, however, were deep and unreadable as he watched the S.H.I.E.L.D. team depart with the Scepter. Simultaneously, Tony secured the Tesseract in its case.
Everyone, save for the Hulk who was simply too large, filed into the elevator.
John patted his own waist. "I also know a big guy. He's a good friend of mine. I'll introduce you sometime."
The Hulk, surprisingly docile, took the stairs. Before he disappeared, however, the already strained elevator was nearly shattered by a single, frustrated punch from the green behemoth.
Fortunately, Stark Tower hadn't skimped on the quality of its elevator materials.
Inside the elevator, the occupants were a mix of Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel, with John being the sole outlier.
"Sorry, John," Tony said, attempting a relaxed tone to ease the palpable tension. "Let's go eat some Arabian barbecue later. It's on me."
Truthfully, Tony was deeply embarrassed. John had saved his life for the second time, yet he couldn't publicly side with him. For the proud billionaire to voluntarily show goodwill and humble himself was no small thing.
John glanced at the arc reactor glowing on Tony's chest, his pupils briefly reflecting the image of the miniature figure he'd seen drilling into it earlier.
Steve also spoke up, acknowledging the debt he owed John for helping him awaken from his prolonged dream-like state. "John," Steve said gravely, "Fury won't let you keep that item."
"In Asgard," Thor interjected, "spoils of war obtained from battle belong to the individual. We usually use other things to exchange for such trophies."
Despite his often boisterous demeanor, Thor was far from foolish; he was quite astute. He was subtly reminding John that he could leverage this situation, make S.H.I.E.L.D. pay a price for the Scepter.
Even the two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents present had nothing to say to this. The scene was almost comical: a group of Avengers huddled around John, openly discussing how to outmaneuver their own organization.
The elevator doors opened. As they walked out, their path was blocked by a man with platinum blonde hair leading another team.
Alexander Pierce.
Though he shared a surname with Ferdinand, there was no relation; their appearances were markedly different. He was Fury's superior. He had come to intercept the Tesseract and Loki.
However, a Secretary-General held little sway over Thor, the future King of Asgard. The two sides were immediately at loggerheads.
John leaned against the front desk, an amused spectator, taking out a cold sandwich and taking a bite as the argument escalated. The dispute seemed to have nothing to do with him.
"What are you going to do?" John murmured casually. The S.H.I.E.L.D. special agent standing near him did his best to pretend he hadn't heard.
Soon, John saw the plan unfold.
As Alexander Pierce argued vehemently with Tony about the Tesseract's ownership, Tony suddenly collapsed, his body convulsing. The entire team panicked.
Pierce, so forceful moments before, was now also flustered. If Iron Man, fresh from saving New York, died under his watch, the resulting uproar would be unimaginable.
"What a ruthless person," John sighed, observing the scene. "He doesn't even spare himself."
Amidst the panicked scramble, the briefcase containing the Tesseract slid towards the periphery of the chaos. Only John clearly saw the tiny figure kick the box away.
The special agent nearest to it immediately moved to retrieve the case. Ignoring the continued panic, he turned to leave through the stairwell door.
"Uh, I advise you not to do that," John warned.
As soon as he spoke, the stairwell door burst open with explosive force. The agent was sent flying as the Hulk stormed out, his face a mask of fury. Having climbed hundreds of flights of stairs, his rage was palpable.
"NO... STAIRS!" he roared.
The flying briefcase burst open, and the Tesseract skittered across the floor.
Loki's eyes darted to the glowing cube at his feet, then flickered towards John.
John watched Loki intently. For two seconds, their gazes locked.
Loki hastily snatched up the Tesseract, his body becoming enveloped in a blue, shimmering portal. A triumphant glint appeared in his eyes.
John calmly snapped his fingers.
Loki's body instantly stiffened, the color draining from his face. The Tesseract clattered to the ground.
"Loki is trying to escape!" Barton, amidst the crowd still surrounding the fallen Tony, saw the scene and bellowed the warning.
In an instant, Loki was dogpiled by over a dozen men. Though clearly incapacitated, he was still subjected to a rather brutal takedown; one could only imagine the discomfort.
In the ensuing chaos, the Tesseract slid to a stop at John's feet.
"How does this count?" John mused, a little bewildered. His right hand, shimmering with a silvery light, reached down and picked up the Cosmic Cube.
Who should he give it to now?
Thor, having revived the convulsing Tony with a jolt of electricity, joined the others in staring at John.
Alexander Pierce barked, "Hand over the item, Wick!" His subordinates quickly surrounded John, some even drawing their weapons.
"This scene is truly disheartening," John said, his voice indifferent as he tossed the Tesseract towards Pierce. "Do you people always treat your saviors this way?"
The Tesseract, still hot from Loki's recent activation, was capable of melting the ground. Pierce instinctively reached out to catch it, nearly scorching his hands in the process.
It was Thor who quickly retrieved the Cube and placed it back into its containment box.
Throughout this entire exchange, John's expression remained cold and impassive. He also noted that the other two individuals—Future Tony and Scott Lang—had already made their exit.
Not wishing to argue further, John turned and left Stark Tower. The incident with Loki's near escape had made everyone far more vigilant, meaning the other Tony would have no chance to acquire the gem here.
Later, in an Arabian barbecue restaurant in New York, the owner and staff were busy cleaning the damage left by the Chitauri attack.
The superheroes who had saved the world chewed their food with expressions of grim endurance. Only Thor seemed to be genuinely enjoying his meal. One could only imagine what his usual fare was like.
"You really should come to Asgard with me sometime, John," Thor said, after swallowing a large mouthful. "You'll definitely like it there."
John took a single bite of his flatbread and barbecue, then set it down. "Maybe someday," he replied calmly. He neither refused nor accepted Thor's sincere invitation.
He took out his pocket watch and glanced at it.
"I wanted to ask earlier, where did you get your pocket watch?" Tony asked, already regretting his suggestion to eat at this particular establishment. It was a miracle, he thought, that the restaurant hadn't collapsed during the Chitauri attack.
Tony, a connoisseur of fine dining, found the barbecue utterly unpalatable.
Steve remarked that the food was even worse than the military rations he'd eaten during World War II.
Banner stared at his wrap as if it were a complex scientific problem, trying to understand how such fine ingredients and correct preparation could result in something so inedible.
From a marketing standpoint, it was astonishing the place was still in business.
"It's custom-made," John said, looking at his watch. "You can't buy it."
He then stood up and left without another word.
The remaining Avengers watched him go, a collective feeling of regret settling over them.
"He escorted a nuclear bomb into space," Tony said, his dissatisfaction evident, "only to have guns pointed at him."
Steve had no counter-argument.
Barton added, "I think he's a very good person."
Banner looked uncertainly at his pants; they were, without a doubt, the most comfortable pair he had ever worn.
Meanwhile, another matter was beginning to ferment worldwide, simultaneously announcing the arrival of a new era.
The Age of Superheroes.
***********
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