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37 The Destroyer
🕑 Added 2024-11-01 18:15:01 +0000 UTCAs the early morning light filtered through the window, Harry awoke, disoriented for a moment by the unfamiliar surroundings. His gaze wandered over the modest trailer until the events of the previous night came rushing back—Selvig, Thor, Darcy... and that kiss. He shook his head, banishing the thought. The pang of hurt he still felt whenever he thought of Natasha gnawed at him, as it had every morning since she’d left. But today, he decided, would be different. Today, he would shrug off that weight.
He had to.
Rising from the couch, Harry stretched and glanced at the others still asleep. Darcy was out cold in the bed, and the quiet hum of Jane's trailer reminded him that life had to move forward, even if his heart wasn’t ready to catch up. He slipped out the door for a brisk morning walk, trying to clear his head.
Groceries in hand, he returned to the workshop that the scientists were using and decided to busy himself with breakfast. Pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, and juice on the side—it was all routine. But as he cracked the first egg, he felt a twinge of memory. This was the same breakfast he’d made for Natasha the morning after their first night together. It had been a private, quiet moment just for them, and now that memory clung to the scent of eggs and sizzling bacon like a shadow.
Harry inhaled sharply and forced himself to focus. He couldn’t let his past dictate every moment of his life. He needed to reclaim this, to forge new memories, ones that weren’t haunted by the ghost of his failed relationship.
So, he cooked. With each flip of the pancake, with each slice of bacon hitting the pan, Harry poured his energy into the task at hand, as though mastering breakfast would somehow help him master his emotions. Distract. Replace. Move on. That was his mantra this morning, and with every sizzling sound, it became easier.
Today was about finding a new rhythm. If he could get through breakfast, maybe he could get through the rest of the day too.
As the warm, savoury aroma of pancakes, eggs, and bacon filled the small room, one by one, everyone stirred awake. The smell was rich and inviting, as they entered the dining area. Their senses were treated to the promise of a hearty meal.
Thor, the first to rise, followed his nose straight to the source. His eyes widened in delight as he saw Harry standing over the stove, flipping pancakes like a seasoned chef. “By Odin’s beard!” Thor exclaimed, grinning widely. “Everything smells divine! I had no idea you possessed such skills in the kitchen, Harry.”
Jane appeared next, bleary-eyed but curious, drawn by the irresistible scent. She paused in the doorway, blinking in surprise at the sight of Harry expertly balancing plates of food. “Wow... I didn’t expect this. You’re full of surprises, Harry,” she remarked with a smile.
Darcy followed close behind, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The sight of breakfast being made by someone else—a very handsome someone else—immediately brightened her mood. “Okay, is this a dream?” she muttered, half to herself. “Because if it is, don’t wake me up.”
Even Selvig, still nursing the effects of last night’s drinking, shuffled into the room, his eyes squinting against the morning light. “Am I hallucinating,” he groaned, “or is that actual food?”
Harry turned around with a modest smile, gesturing to the table. “I figured I’d make breakfast for everyone. After last night, you could all use a good meal.” Harry cast a soft smile as he served the pancakes. “I own a café called Lily’s in Los Angeles. If you’re ever in the area, you should drop by. The coffee’s not half bad, and the pastries are even better.”
Thor’s eyes lit up at the mention of food. “A café? I’ll hold you to that, Harry. The feasts in Asgard may be grand, but I’ve yet to try Midgardian pastries!”
The others smiled warmly at Harry’s confession, taking their seats at the table. Darcy, still a little shy after the events of the previous night, kept her gaze down, occasionally sneaking glances at Harry but staying quiet. She fiddled with her fork, trying to blend into the background.
Across from her, Selvig grimaced as Jane handed him a couple of aspirins. “Here, take these,” she said, giving him a sympathetic look. “They’ll help with the hangover.”
“Thank you,” Selvig mumbled gratefully, chasing the pills down with a glass of water as he blinked groggily at the spread before them.
Once everyone was settled, they all quietly enjoyed their meal, the clinking of silverware against plates the only sound filling the cosy space. The atmosphere was warm and unhurried, a calm moment amidst the chaos that seemed to follow them lately.
Jane offered Harry a smile between bites. “This is really good, Harry,” she complimented. “You have a knack for this.”
Harry nodded in thanks. “It’s nothing, really. I guess I find some peace in cooking.”
Darcy, still feeling awkward, managed a small, appreciative smile at Harry. Selvig, though looking worse for wear, gave a tired thumbs-up from across the table.
After the last bites were taken, the group naturally fell into a rhythm of cleaning up together. They worked as a team, washing, drying, and putting plates and utensils away. Just as Harry was wiping down the counter, The door swung open with a loud bang, jolting the room from its peaceful morning calm. A booming voice filled the space.
“Found you!”
Thor, Jane, Selvig, and Darcy turned toward the entrance, where a group of imposing figures stood silhouetted against the morning light. Four individuals in armour that looked like they were directly from the Renaissance fair.
Jane's eyes widened in disbelief. Her fingers loosened their grip, and the plate she had been holding slipped from her grasp, shattering on the floor with a sharp crack.
Thor's face lit up with joy. "My friends!"
He abandoned the dish towel and strode toward them, his voice full of warmth and relief. He pulled Sif into a tight embrace, then clapped Volstagg on the back with a booming laugh.
From across the room, Jane, Selvig, and Darcy stood frozen, staring in awe at the Asgardian newcomers. Jane’s brow furrowed, her mind racing with questions. Selvig blinked, struggling to comprehend the sight in front of him.
Darcy, leaned toward Selvig and muttered, "Who are these guys?"
Volstagg puffed out his chest, his voice full of pride. "Lady Sif and the Warriors Three. Surely, you've heard of Hogun the Grim, Fandral the Dashing, and I—Volstagg the Svelte?"
Selvig raised an eyebrow, his gaze lingering on Volstagg’s rather ample belly.
Volstagg caught the look and quickly added, with a grin, "Well, perhaps I've put on a little more muscle since I was last here."
Jane asked incredulously, "That would’ve been a thousand years ago. Northern Europe?"
Volstagg’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with nostalgia. "Exactly! Those lovely herring people. They worshipped us!"
Thor’s smile however faltered as he looked over his friends, the joy in his eyes dimming slightly. "My friends, I've never been happier to see anyone of you. But..." his voice trailed off, weighed with regret, "you should not have come."
Fandral stepped forward with a confident grin. "We’re here to take you home."
The word "home" hung heavy in the air for Thor. "You know I can't," he said quietly, the weight of his guilt pressing down on every word. "My father is dead because of me. I must remain in exile."
A stillness settled over the room, the Asgardians exchanging uneasy glances. Sif took a step closer, her voice confused as she said. "Thor... your father still lives."
Thor’s head snapped toward her, his eyes wide, disbelief mingling with hope. "What?" Thor's mind raced to make sense of what he had just heard.
In the distance though, the sky began to darken, a swirling vortex of light and energy forming in the sky, unmistakable to anyone who had ever witnessed the Bifrost before. Thor and the Asgardians froze, their expressions grim as they watched the familiar sight of the storm's formation.
Harry’s brows furrowed. He pulled out his phone, stepping away from the group as he dialled. "Coulson, what's going on?"
On the other end of the line, Coulson’s voice crackled through. "We’ve got a situation. A metal... suit, or something like it, just landed from that storm. It destroyed everything in its path, and it's headed straight for your location."
Harry's expression tightened as he glanced at the others. Jane, Thor, and the rest were staring at him with a mixture of shock and hurt. It was clear that Harry working with SHIELD had not crossed their minds until this very moment.
"You're with SHIELD?" Jane asked softly, a trace of disappointment lacing her words.
Harry gave a resigned nod but had no time to explain. "I need to know what we're dealing with," he said quietly, his focus returning to Coulson’s update.
"It’s powerful, Harry. We're tracking it. It looks like a walking furnace, and it's armed. You need to get out of there—now."
As Harry ended the call, the sound of distant rumbling and crackling filled the air, drawing the attention of the townspeople. Groups of people spilt out into the streets, their eyes wide with confusion and fear as they stared at the fiery chaos brewing on the horizon.
Thor exchanged a look with his comrades. He knew what this meant.
"Prepare yourselves," Thor said, his voice low but steady. He turned to Jane, his eyes lingering on her with a mix of protectiveness and regret. "Stay behind. It’s not safe."
Thor's face hardened with grim determination as he turned to the others. “Loki has sent the Destroyer to kill me.”
Jane stepped forward; her voice laced with concern. “What is the Destroyer?”
Thor exhaled. “The Destroyer is an enchanted Asgardian automaton. It guards Odin's Vault, and when summoned, it becomes a weapon of unimaginable power, bound only to its master's will. It destroys anything in its path.”
A tense silence fell over the group. Jane's eyes widened; her fear evident. “And it’s coming here?”
Thor’s voice softened as he glanced at her, the weight of responsibility heavy in his words. “Leave now. Take your friends. Get as far away as you can. This town must be evacuated.”
Jane shook her head, her heart clearly torn. “What about you?”
“I must stay and fight.”
The Asgardians exchanged uneasy glances. Volstagg stepped forward. “You’re a mortal now, Thor. You’ll be walking into your death.”
Fandral’s voice was quieter, but no less urgent. “Or worse, you’ll get one of us killed trying to save you.”
Sif stood in front of Thor and requested. “Thor, you’re no longer the God of Thunder. You’re vulnerable. Let us handle this.”
Thor’s gaze shifted to the townsfolk. They were blissfully unaware of the oncoming threat, going about their lives, laughing, talking—oblivious to the danger descending upon them. His jaw clenched as the gravity of the situation weighed heavily on him.
He turned back to Sif, his voice steady, but filled with humility. “You're right.”
Sif blinked, taken aback. The other Asgardians looked equally surprised. They had expected him to argue, to demand to fight alongside them, but this Thor was not the reckless warrior they once knew.
Thor’s eyes softened as he turned to Harry, Jane, Selvig, and Darcy. “Help me clear the streets. I may not be able to fight the Destroyer, but I will not let these people die.”
Without another word, Harry, Thor, Jane, Selvig, and Darcy began to herd the townsfolk off the streets, while the Warriors Three and Sif strode purposefully toward the oncoming automaton.
Harry, Thor, Jane, and Selvig worked swiftly, guiding the confused and panicked townsfolk off the streets. Harry helped load families into cars, while Thor directed others indoors. They shouted instructions over the rising chaos, trying to maintain order in the face of mounting fear.
And then, it appeared.
The Destroyer strode down the street, its massive metallic form gleaming ominously under the sunlight. Fiery red energy pulsed from within its core, illuminating the gaps between its metal plates like molten lava threatening to spill out. Each heavy step it took sent tremors through the ground, the sheer weight of its presence palpable.
Without warning, the Destroyer unleashed a blast of searing red energy. Cars exploded into twisted metal as storefronts were consumed in flames, the sound of shattering glass and crumbling structures filling the air. The once peaceful street was now a battleground, and the Destroyer marched forward, relentless in its pursuit.
Thor glanced down the street, his heart pounding in his chest as he saw the Warriors Three and Sif positioning themselves between the Destroyer and the town. Sif held her spear high, ready to strike, while Volstagg and Fandral flanked her, weapons drawn. They had faced countless battles together, but this... this was different.
“My friends fight bravely,” Thor muttered, his voice however was laced with both admiration and fear, “but they won’t be able to hold it back much longer.”
Harry shot a look at Thor, realizing the weight of his words. For the first time, Thor was powerless to protect the people he cared about—not just the townsfolk, but also his comrades. The Destroyer’s might was beyond any mortal's comprehension, and Thor was no longer the god of thunder.
Thor’s gaze flickered between his comrades and the townsfolk. His fists clenched, frustration mounting as the battle unfolded without him. He wasn’t used to standing on the sidelines, but now, powerless and mortal, he had no choice.
The sound of another explosion rocked the street as the Destroyer unleashed another fiery blast, sending debris scattering across the pavement. People screamed in terror, rushing into their cars or ducking into buildings for cover. Thor took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay focused.
“Keep moving,” Thor urged, pushing past his own emotions to help the last few stragglers get to safety. Jane and Selvig were beside him, fear etched into their faces as the realization of the destruction grew. Yet, they stayed close, unwilling to leave him alone.
Hogun and Fandral charged forward towards the hulking figure of the Destroyer. Volstagg, still behind, was stretching his arms and cracking his neck in preparation.
“For Asgard!” Hogun shouted, glancing back at Volstagg.
“We need you, now!” Fandral barked, and without waiting for a reply, he and Hogun each grabbed one of Volstagg’s arms. With an immense burst of strength, they hurled the large warrior through the air, his battle cry booming across the battlefield.
“For Asgaaaard!” Volstagg’s voice thundered as his massive form hurtled toward the Destroyer, crashing into its chest with a tremendous clang. For a moment, it seemed like the plan had worked. The Destroyer staggered under the impact, its metal plates grinding as it tried to regain balance.
But then, without a hint of strain, the Destroyer reached out, gripping Volstagg by the scruff of his neck. Volstagg offered an awkward shrug, knowing what came next. In one swift motion, the Destroyer hurled him through the air like a ragdoll, sending him crashing into Hogun and Fandral. The three Asgardians tumbled across the ground, groaning from the impact.
High above, Sif saw her opening. With a battle-hardened shout, she leapt from a nearby rooftop, her two-headed spear gleaming in the sunlight. She drove it deep into the Destroyer’s back, the force of her strike sending a shockwave through its metal frame. The fiery glow in its faceplate dimmed, flickering as the machine stood motionless.
The Asgardians dared to hope. Sif held her ground atop the Destroyer, her grip tight on her spear. For a heartbeat, it seemed like victory was within reach.
But then, the Destroyer’s fire reignited. Slowly, unnaturally, its torso rotated 180 degrees, the glowing slits of its faceplate turning to lock onto Sif. The metal beast twisted with a grinding whirr, a blast of energy building within its core.
“Move!” Fandral shouted, but Sif was already diving off the creature’s back. She barely hit the ground as a searing blast of molten energy erupted from the Destroyer, missing her by inches but obliterating the spot where she had stood.
The Destroyer stood tall again, pulling free from Sif’s spear, the weapon sliding through the gaps in its armour as if it were made of air. The creature rose to its full height, its deadly faceplate glowing red as it unleashed another blast—this time aimed at the Warriors Three. The explosion sent them flying, their bodies crashing into nearby debris, groans of pain filling the air.
Hogun’s pouch of healing stones broke free as he tumbled across the street, the precious items scattering across the pavement, gleaming faintly amidst the chaos.
Thor’s heart clenched as he saw his friends lying scattered and injured across the street, but there was no time to act. The Destroyer’s fiery blast struck a storefront near Smith Motor, sending a shockwave that knocked Thor, Jane, and Selvig to the ground. Thor shook off the debris and hurried to help Jane to her feet, only to spot Selvig nearby, impaled by a twisted piece of iron.
“Erik!” Jane cried, rushing to his side, her face pale with fear.
Selvig, groaning in pain, shook his head weakly. “Go... leave me,” he muttered, his hand trembling as he reached for Jane’s.
Thor’s gaze flicked to the street, where something caught his eye—Hogun’s pouch of healing stones, lying in the wreckage. Without a second thought, he sprinted towards it, dodging flames and rubble as the Destroyer loomed closer. He snatched up the pouch, his heart sinking as most of the stones inside were crushed to powder. Desperation mounted.
“Come on... give me one,” Thor muttered through gritted teeth, sifting through the dust until his fingers closed around a single intact stone.
Thor hurried back, kneeling beside Selvig. Ignoring Jane’s questioning stare, he held the glowing stone above the iron shard and crushed it in his hand. The glowing powder cascaded down, dissolving the iron, its magic creeping into the wound until it was healed entirely. Selvig blinked in astonishment, sitting up and feeling the smooth, unbroken skin beneath his torn shirt.
“I’m really starting to like him,” Selvig said, casting a glance at Jane.
Jane turned to Thor to express her gratitude, but he was already gone, heading towards the battle.
As the streets filled with chaos and debris, Harry stood at the centre of it all, heart pounding in his chest. He had faced countless dark wizards, monsters, and impossible odds, but something about this battle felt different. More urgent. More dangerous. The town was crumbling around them, innocent lives at stake, and the behemoth that was the Destroyer loomed like an unstoppable force of destruction.
Harry balled his wrist tighter. Enough was enough.
With a surge of determination, he stepped forward, eyes fixed on the metallic giant. His magic sparked to life, and the air around him seemed to hum with power. Harry raised his hand and unleashed a barrage of spells, each one fiercer than the last.
"Stupefy! Reducto!" he shouted, his voice ringing out over the roaring destruction.
The spells shot forward like lightning bolts, crashing into the Destroyer with brilliant flashes of light. For a moment, it looked as though they might do something. The blasts of magic crackled against the Destroyer’s armour, and Harry felt a flicker of hope. He pressed on, waving his hand through the air, hurling more and more powerful spells.
"Confringo!" A fiery explosion lit up the street as the spell collided with the Destroyer, sending shockwaves through the ground. But as the smoke cleared, Harry’s heart sank. The Destroyer stood there, unmoved, its armour gleaming without so much as a scratch.
The townspeople watched from the shadows; their eyes wide with hope. They believed in him—believed that Harry could stop this monster. And for a moment, he believed it too. He could feel the magic coursing through him, stronger than ever.
With a twist of his hand, Harry transfigured the debris littering the streets into a stampede of stone animals—lions, wolves, and hawks, all of their eyes glowing with ferocity. They charged the Destroyer, claws slashing, talons ripping. The townspeople gasped as the creatures swarmed the metal giant. This had to be it. This had to work.
But the Destroyer didn’t even flinch. A blinding flash of energy surged from within its core, and with a deafening roar, the molten lava disintegrated Harry’s conjured beasts into nothingness.
Harry’s stomach churned with frustration, but he couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop. He pivoted, casting spell after spell, throwing everything he had at the towering juggernaut. The street cracked under the force of his magic, storefronts exploded into dust, and yet the Destroyer continued its relentless advance.
"Bombarda Maxima!" Harry screamed, putting every ounce of power into the spell. The ground beneath the Destroyer erupted in a massive explosion, sending fire and rubble soaring into the sky. The force rattled windows and shook the earth, but as the dust settled, Harry’s worst fear was confirmed.
The Destroyer still stood. Unstoppable. Untouched.
It turned its faceless head toward him, the glowing line of energy along its face brightening, charging up for an attack.
Harry’s heart raced. His mind scrambled for a plan, for some way to win. But he was running out of time. Out of options.
The Destroyer unleashed a devastating beam of searing energy directly at him. Harry reacted instantly, summoning a powerful Shield Charm. The shimmering barrier appeared just in time, deflecting the blast—but barely. The sheer force of it sent tremors through his shield, cracks forming along its edges.
The beam intensified, pushing him back. His feet skidded across the pavement as he struggled to hold the shield in place. Sweat poured down his face. His arms ached. His magic faltered. And then, with a deafening crack, his shield shattered.
The blast hit him like a tidal wave. He was thrown through the air, crashing into the side of a building with a bone-rattling impact. Pain shot through his body as he slumped to the ground, dazed and breathless.
The world spun. His vision blurred. The Destroyer loomed over him like a towering, invincible force.
Harry tried to rise, but his limbs were weak, and his magic drained. For the first time, a sliver of doubt crept into his mind. He had given it everything he had, every spell, every trick—and still, it hadn’t been enough. He had failed.
At that moment, Harry realized: this was a fight he couldn’t win.
Thor and Sif sprinted toward Harry, who lay sprawled amidst the wreckage. His breath came in shallow gasps, pain evident in every twitch of his body. Thor knelt beside him; eyes filled with concern.
"You... you're a Seiðmaður," Thor said, his voice tinged with awe.
Harry, groaning in pain, nodded weakly. "I tried... I couldn't stop it..."
Thor laid a hand on his shoulder, his gaze steady and reassuring. "You did all you could. Now let me handle this." He turned to Lady Sif, giving a firm nod. "Take him to safety."
Sif hesitated but then gently helped Harry to his feet, leading him away as Thor stood and turned back to the Destroyer.
Without hesitation, Thor tossed aside Sif’s shield, leaving himself completely exposed. He strode forward, unarmed and unprotected, facing the monstrous figure that had brought nothing but destruction. Each step was deliberate, and purposeful, as if he already knew what had to be done.
"Brother!" Thor called out, his voice clear, steady, carrying across the chaotic battlefield. "For whatever I have done to wrong you, whatever I have done to lead you to this..." He paused, his chest rising with a heavy breath. "I am truly sorry."
The Destroyer stood still, its molten core flickering, watching him.
"But these people," Thor continued, glancing at the terrified townsfolk still scrambling to escape the devastation, "they have done nothing to you. They are innocent." His eyes found Jane, watching helplessly from across the street. "Take my life," he said, stepping closer to the Destroyer, "and know I will never return to Asgard."
The air grew thick with tension as Thor reached the Destroyer. His arms spread wide, accepting his fate. The towering automaton hesitated, as if contemplating the sincerity of Thor's words, then, without warning, swung its massive arm.
The sickening CRACK of bone shattering echoed through the street as Thor’s body was flung in the air. He crashed into the ground in front of Smith Motors, his limp form rolling to a stop, broken and lifeless.
Jane let out a strangled cry, eyes wide in horror, and tried to rush to his side, but Selvig caught her, holding her back. "No, Jane... stay back," he urged, though his own voice wavered with shock and disbelief.
Down the street, Sif and the Warriors Three, along with Harry, watched in stunned silence. The battle had come to a heart-wrenching halt, and all eyes were on Thor’s crumpled form.
Thor's eyes close, his last breath leaving his lips. The Destroyer stands over Thor's body, lowers its head towards him. It opens its faceplate, locks it in place, readying to unleash its fiery blast.
Thor’s eyes fluttered shut, his chest rising weakly before his breath stilled. The Destroyer loomed over him, the fire in its core pulsing with ominous energy. It lowered its head, locking its faceplate into place, preparing to unleash its final, devastating blast.
Just as the fiery energy gathered, ready to obliterate Thor’s body, a thunderous KRAKAKABOOM echoed through the heavens. A blinding bolt of lightning shot down from the sky, colliding with the Destroyer’s blast. The explosion was immense, throwing the Destroyer backwards as a cloud of dust and debris consumed the street.
As the smoke cleared, there stood The Mighty Thor, resplendent in his full battle armour, Mjolnir firmly in his grasp. The God of Thunder had returned.
With a determined expression, Thor knelt, slamming Mjolnir into the ground. KRAKABOOM! A bolt of lightning struck down, engulfing the Destroyer in raw electrical energy. The behemoth convulsed under the onslaught. But Thor wasn’t done. He spun Mjolnir with blinding speed, launching himself into the air. The Destroyer, battered but still standing, craned its head upward, tracking the Thunder God.
Storm clouds gathered thick and heavy, swirling around Thor as he summoned the winds. The air itself seemed to rise, pulling debris into the sky. The Destroyer stood defiant, rooted by its massive weight. It opened its faceplate once again, unleashing a stream of fiery energy toward Thor.
Thor dived directly into the blast, Mjolnir before him, cutting through the flames. He pushed forward, the force of his hammer overpowering the Destroyer's energy. Closer, closer – Thor roared, slamming Mjolnir into the faceplate.
The Destroyer shuddered as fiery energy surged within, building to an unbearable intensity. BOOM! The force of the explosion sent streams of flame shooting from every opening in the automaton, its once mighty power now imploding from within. Thor delivered one final, crushing blow, driving the Destroyer to the ground in a heap of smouldering metal.
The fiery light within the Destroyer flickered, then faded. Silence descended over the battlefield.
Thor stood tall, pulling Mjolnir from the shattered remains of the Destroyer. As he walked away, debris that had been pulled into the air by his storm now rained down, burying the lifeless carcass beneath a mound of rubble.
The battle was over, and the God of Thunder had triumphed once more.
