Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Prologue

New York City, New York, USA, Earth

Brown eyes watched the monitors intently. It wouldn’t be long now. This was the crucial stage; the point where all previous attempts had failed. There was a slightly crazed look to the eyes as they glanced at the heap of metal and wires in the middle of the room. Sparks of electricity pulsed through the thick cables. A sharp beep from the monitors signaled the completion of the first phase. The eyes gleamed in anticipation as power flowed to the metal construct. Just a few more minutes and all those years of research and experimentation would be validated. So many had said this project was impossible; that it was doomed to fail from the very start. And yet here was the prototype, complete, and just a few short moments away from activation. Oh, this was going to be glorious.
As the final stage ended, the green activation button lit up. A deep breath was taken as a hand reached over to press the glowing green circle. At the press of the button a loud metallic keening filled the air. Sparks sizzled across the creation, but nothing caught fire. The keening soon faded to a dull hum as the machine began to move.

“Yes!”

A jubilant figure approached the strange mobile weapon, practically skipping with excitement, and took hold of the controls. Gauges indicated that all systems were fully functional. It was time for a test run!

“Let’s see if you perform as well in reality as you did in the simulations, shall we?”

The creation shuddered slightly as it moved forward. The massive weapon charged and fired at the far wall. Gleeful laughter echoed through the workshop as the world exploded into chaos.

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Feralas, Kalimdor, Azeroth

A nasal voice chanted steadily, the sound almost melodic as it twisted through the air. The spell, so dark and lyrical, had taken days of preparation. Nothing could be allowed to interfere with its completion. Not the clang of blade against blade, or the vocal warcries of combatants, or even the feel of the very earth trembling underfoot. No, the spell must be properly concluded. The magic was strong and powerful, and without direction it would lash out and cause great destruction to the immediate area. The caster had no intention of dying, and so the chanting continued as if there wasn’t a small battle raging around him.

The fight itself was utter chaos. How both Alliance and Horde parties had stumbled across the clearing at exactly the wrong time was a mystery to the group of dark-robed figures. At least it meant that the “heroes” were just as busy fighting each other as they were their supposed enemies.

The roar of an angry bear filled the air as a fireball sizzled purple fur. The blue-skinned Draenei swung his mace at an enemy warlock, catching the orc in the chest and sending him to meet his ancestors. Arrows flew with great precision from a Troll’s bow as her white lion closed his jaws upon the throat of a robed human. The Death Knight’s Runeblade seemed to glow as the blood of enemies flowed freely over its surface. One of the robed figures tried to run, only to find himself tangled in a mass of thick roots which shot out of the ground to wrap about his limbs. Another figure dodged arrow and spell alike, freezing anyone who came too close. And through all this, the lone figure was oblivious as he focused entirely upon the magic he sought to weave.

There was a sudden victorious cry from the spellcaster as a portal began to open. But something was wrong; the portal did not hold steady in the prepared archway. It…rippled. Then flashed. In a violent explosion of light, the portal suddenly expanded. When the light faded, the clearing was empty.

Chapter Text

“Ugh…what hit me?”

Amber eyes opened, blinking several times as they adjusted to the light. With a huff the large creature rolled onto his belly and sat up. Looking around, he realized he didn’t recognize his surroundings. There were trees, but they were much smaller than he was accustomed to. The grass had obviously been cropped short, creating a uniform carpet of green across the ground. A bench, the construction unfamiliar, stood a few feet away. A narrow path meandered past the bench and curved onto the trees, disappearing from view.

Burn shook his head, his long, pointed ears flapping at the motion. The large bear stood on his four legs and slowly stretched. After assuring himself there were no serious injuries, the dull purple bear moved over to the strange bench, sniffing it cautiously. Human. It smelled of humans. That was good, at least. Humans were allies of his kind. Well, most of them. Hopefully he was among the friendly humans and not the hostile ones.

The thought of hostiles reminded the bear of what he’d been doing before waking up by the bench. The fight! Suddenly alert, Burn scanned his surroundings in search of both his comrades and their enemies. After a few moments of looking, listening and scenting the air, he admitted to himself that he was alone. The only scent was that of strangers; the only sounds those of distant laughter and machinery. He took a deep breath and tried to ask the trees if they’d seen his friends. Only the trees did not answer him. In fact, nothing about this place seemed willing to ‘speak’ to him. A pang of fear flashed in his chest at the realization.

“This is not Feralas. It doesn’t even feel like Azeroth! By Cenarius’s hooves, where am I?”

The Druid shook himself in an attempt to stave off the anxiety rising within. He knew other worlds existed. He’d even been to the ruined Outland himself once. But this wasn’t Outland. He knew the flora of that shattered world. He’d need to ‘introduce’ himself to this world properly before he could call upon it to aid him. But first, he had to find his two comrades. Burn took one last look around his immediate area before stepping onto the path. He was a bear with a purpose and, strange land or no, he wouldn’t rest ‘til he’d found his friends.

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Harvist groaned as she opened her eyes. She immediately closed them. The world was upside down. The Tauren tried to sit up and promptly fell out of the tree. It wasn’t a long fall, so all that was bruised was her pride. She took in her surroundings as she righted herself and stood up. It took only a glance to establish that this was not Feralas. There was no sign of her companions, or even the enemy they had been fighting. The Druid closed her eyes and reached out with her senses, hoping to learn something from the local flora. Her eyes shot open as she felt an unfamiliar world around her. She wasn’t just no longer in Feralas…she was no longer on Azeroth! And worst of all, the trees refused to hear her!
Harvist took a few deep, calming breaths. She was a Druid. She had trained for years, learning to commune with the natural world around her. She had been to the shattered Outland and still been able to maintain that connection with Nature. All she had to do was introduce herself to this new world. And not panic. She sat down at the base on the tree, arranging her hooves beneath her and wrapping her leonine tail around her body. She closed her eyes and concentrated on feeling the natural world around her.

Blue eyes opened slowly, their glazed appearance fading quickly. The Druid focused her attention on a bit of earth right in front of her. She reached out with her senses, her hands glowing faintly with warm green light. This time, her call was answered. A tiny sprig of green sprouted from beneath the leaves and grew rapidly. After only a moment she finds herself staring at a fully mature red flower. The green light faded as she smiled in welcome at the beautiful plant. This new world would Listen now, would Hear her when she called. She would be able to properly defend herself now, with Nature’s aid.
Harvist wasn’t sure how long she’d been communing to earn the trust of a strange world. Several hours at least, judging by the sun’s progress across the sky. She needed to move. It was something of a miracle she had not already been discovered by whatever creatures inhabited this place. Standing, she made a mental list of things that needed to be done. First, she needed to learn more about where she was. That was best done with as little notice as possible, least the locals prove hostile towards Tauren. Second, she needed to find her two companions. Shishido was a skilled Hunter, and would no doubt be able to hide effectively even in the most unfamiliar of settings. But ‘Ice was another matter entirely. The Blood Elf was about as subtle as a herd of stampeding kodo when no one was around to keep him in check. Yes, it would be best if Harvist could find her friends before something ‘unfortunate’ happened.
The Druid sighed as she shifted form. A white lion with bull-like horns stood at the base of the tree. As the feline began moving, it seemed to almost fade from sight. If one were to look very closely, they might see the slight distortion caused by the Druid’s passage. Harvist had much to accomplish, but she’d start by exploring her surroundings and hunting her companions. Once she’d regrouped with the others they could work on plans for finding a way home.

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The screaming was somewhat unexpected. Looking back, Burn really should have anticipated that reaction. Even back home the sight of a large predator approaching was cause for alarm. Perhaps he should have assumed his more stealthy feline form instead of staying a bear. Especially since he was a very large, very purple bear with huge teeth and giant claws. But it was too late now that the locals had spotted him and run screaming in the other direction.
When he’d first emerged from the wooded section of the path, Burn had seen a group of humans sitting on a blanket and eating an assortment of foodstuffs. His stomach had growled as he caught the scent of cheese and meat. A child happened to look up as he took a step the direction of the food. Those bright eyes had gone wide, and a small arm had pointed at him as the child cried out. The parents had taken one look at Burn and screamed in terror. Some of the adults began to shout while others pulled small rectangular devices out of their pockets. He didn’t understand their words; it wasn’t the Common tongue of Stormwind, nor did it sound like any other language he’d been exposed to. But the meaning was clear enough: The humans were afraid of him.

Burn sighed as people fled, screaming, in the opposite direction. He hadn’t even done anything! Golden eyes slid from the humans to the abandoned blanket, still covered in an assortment of tasty smelling dishes. His stomach rumbled again.

“Well…no point in wasting food. They obviously don’t want it anymore. May as well have myself a snack before they come back.”

The bear quickly set about “cleaning up” the picnic site. It wasn’t long before every last scrap had been consumed. He sat down and licked some sauce off his front paw. He really had to get the recipe for whatever that round, flat thing with all the cheese, meat, and red sauce was. He licked the last crumbs off his snout as he looked around, debating what to do next.
The decision was made for him when Burn glanced to the right and observed five humans headed his way, armed with some rather unusual weapons. One held a long pole with a loop at the end. Another held what appeared to be a rifle, though it looked far more delicate than the firearms he was used to seeing. The other three humans held rifles of much larger proportions. Those made Burn nervous. It was just possible they were powerful enough to do real harm. Behind the humans was a strange metal box on wheels; a mechanical vehicle of some sort, but it didn’t appear to have any weapons mounted on it. That was good, at least. He only had to worry about the armed humans, and they weren’t even wearing armor.
Burn stood up as the man with the small rifle took aim. He felt a mild sting in his shoulder, followed by a slight drowsy feeling. A growl escaped as he realized the human had actually shot him. He snorted and turned his body so he was facing the men head-on. The man with the small rifle reloaded and aimed to take another shot, but Burn charged before he’d even begun to squeeze the trigger. The three men with larger rifles were now shooting at him, but the bullets were little more than beestings on the bear’s thick hide. All they did was serve to make the powerful creature very, very angry.
Burn roared as he ran towards the armed humans, golden eyes flashing.

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Tony Stark was many things, most notable of which was the superhero known as Iron Man. Something he was not, however, was tolerant of people turning off his music. Thus, when the deafening chords of a favored song were suddenly silenced, he was Not Pleased to put it mildly.

“Sir, Agent Coulson insists that you take his call. He says it’s important.”

“He always says it’s important,” Tony grumbled, irritated at the interruption. “Fine, fine, put him through, JARVIS.” Tony assumed a tone of false cheer as he continued to speak. “Hey, Coulson! What world ending emergency do we have scheduled for today?”

“Mr. Stark, I need you to head for Central Park. Dr. Banner is already on his way. There is a situation in progress involving a bear.”

“A bear? Seriously? Do I look like Animal Control to you? Though it might be entertaining to see the Hulk wrestling a bear…”

“Mr. Stark, SHIELD detected some strange energy readings in that area earlier today. This bear is reported to be very large, and purple. It is suspected the readings and the animal sighting are related.”

“Why can’t you send Hawkbait? I’m sure he’d love to do a little hunting in the park.”

“Agent Barton is on assignment elsewhere, as are the rest of the Avengers. I expect you to deal with this situation before any civilians are injured. Capture the beast alive if possible. Also, it appears to be immune to standard tranquilizer darts. I suggest you get moving, Mr. Stark.”

Tony huffed as Agent Coulson ended the call. A giant purple bear? This sounded more like a drug induced hallucination than a real situation. Or maybe it was a bad joke. Yeah, somebody dyed a Grizzly purple and turned it loose for a laugh. It wasn’t his fault Animal control couldn’t handle anything bigger than a Great Dane. He sighed. Dealing with the local wildlife was not why he’d created the Iron Man suit.

“Okay, JARVIS. Time to suit up.”

It wasn’t long before Iron Man was streaking through the sky towards Central Park. Authorities had already secured the immediate area to keep civilians out of harm’s way. He found Dr. Bruce Banner quickly and landed beside the man, observing the “bear” as he did so. Tony blinked. Coulson was right, it was indeed a huge purple bear. And it looked seriously pissed off. One of the Animal Control guys had gotten his noose-on-a-stick over the beast’s head, but it didn’t appear to be doing much to control the animal.

“So, Bruce…I hear we’re on pound duty now,” Tony said to the man beside him.

“This isn’t exactly your typical stray dog,” Bruce answered with a sigh.

“True,” the armor-clad genius replied as he eyed the creature. “Huh. Is it just me, or is that bear wearing feathered armbands on its front legs?”

Bruce squinted at the beast before answering, mild surprise evident in his voice. “You’re right. I wonder who was brave enough to put those on him?”

The beast pulled the metal pole out of the Animal Control worker’s grip, sending the man face-first onto the ground dangerously close to the enraged bear. Tony decided it was time he join the party.

“Guess I’ll go help get Smokey into a cage.”

Iron Man decided to get the fallen man out of the way before taking on the angry bear. The guy was obviously an idiot for trying to capture such a huge animal with nothing more than a lasso on a stick, but that didn’t mean he deserved to become bear chow. And that’s exactly what the purple creature looked like he was about to do.

“Hey, Yogi! Leave the appetizer alone. The main course has arrived,” Iron Man shouted as he charged into the beast. The bear growled as it was thrown onto its side, but quickly regained its footing. The armored hero, too, was fast to get back on his feet. Beast and man stared at each other, two sets of glowing eyes taking in their opponents’ appearance. The bear made the first move, standing on its hind legs and roaring before lunging to capture Iron Man in a deadly embrace.

“Sir, external pressure is approaching dangerous levels,” JARVIS stated. “Recommend you avoid close contact.”

“Yeah, kinda figured out that bear hugs are a bad thing all on my own,” Tony replied, grunting as the pressure on his suit increased. He’d realized it was a mistake to get so close the second the beast had stood to tower above him. The thing was over eight feet tall, and had a very impressive set of yellowed teeth. He hadn’t been fast enough to avoid being caught in the “hug” when the animal had lunged. With arms pinned to his sides, there was only one option for getting himself free. The blast from the suit’s chest sent bear and man hurtling in opposite directions. Iron Man quickly righted himself and prepared to blast the beast again. The bear seemed to have been stunned temporarily. It picked itself up off the grass, shook its head, and charged.

The animal somehow managed to dodge most of the first repulsor blast. It caused the creature to stumble, but didn’t stop the charge. Before Tony could get off another shot the powerful jaws had closed around his forearm. The massive paws were clawing at his armor, the screech of claws on metal sending shivers down Tony’s spine. Warnings flashed across the suit’s HUD as teeth bit down on his arm, the pressure slowly bending the metal plates.
Mild panic was starting to build in Tony’s chest. The pure rage that seemed to drive the bear reminded Tony of the Hulk. S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted this animal alive, but self-preservation was quickly taking top priority. This beast was slowly crushing the Iron Man suit, and the man inside had no intention of letting it continue. One well aimed repulsor blast to the face caused the animal to release its hold on his arm. This was quickly followed by the firing of some of the suit’s more lethal armaments. The bear roared, in pain this time, and jerked backwards to stand several yards away. It had what could only be described as a look of shock on its face, but did not seem to be seriously injured despite some singed fur.

“Tough teddy, aren’t you? JARVIS,” Tony addressed his AI, mind racing as looked at the puncture marks in his armor. “Are we sure this thing’s actually alive? It could be a robot with a fur coat, strong as it is.”

“There is no evidence to suggest an artificial being,” came the crisp reply. “The creature appears to be an organic organism. And may I remind you, sir, that you personally know several individuals who posses great physical strength without themselves being robots.”

“You could just say, ‘It’s a real bear,’ JARVIS.”

Further discussion was cut off as a blur of white suddenly tackled Iron Man, knocking him to the ground. Tony found his vision filled by a pale feline face with a ruby red nosering. The blue eyes seemed to be glaring at him, but it wasn’t growling. It leapt off his chest and crouched nearby, watching him warily. The armored figure slowly got back on his feet, keeping an eye on both the lion and the bear. Where were all these animals coming from? Tony half expected a tiger to jump out next. That’d be something; Iron Man fighting lions and tigers and bears in the park. He was starting to feel like he’d been transported to another dimension. He spared a second to consider that possibility. His boots weren’t covered in rubies, but they were at least red…

A furious roar brought Tony’s full attention back to the situation at hand. Oh. Right. He still had to subdue the giant purple bear. And now there was a horned lion to deal with as well. At least the cat wasn’t snarling at him. In fact, the white feline seemed to be watching the larger predator instead of the armored human.
The bear charged Iron Man yet again, only this time Tony flew into the air to avoid getting caught in another “bear hug.” The furry ball of purple rage ended up running head first into a large Animal Control truck, its forward momentum too fast to stop or turn. The vehicle flipped over onto its side as the huge beast crashed through sheet metal. The lion leapt onto the overturned truck as Iron Man landed. From inside the truck, the bear shifted and made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a groan, then laid still. Just as Tony was about to blast the lion, the white feline charged, ramming him with its bull-like horns, and knocking him flat on his back. Then, to the Iron Man’s shock, the lion leapt into the air, turned into the largest bird Tony had ever seen, and swiftly flew away. A few brown feathers drifted to the ground as proof that he wasn’t going crazy.

Iron Man decided to ignore the lion-turned-bird for the moment. The bear was down, but there was no guarantee how long it’d stay that way. He climbed onto the damaged truck and prodded at the animal cautiously. No reaction. He reached down and pulled on one of the long, pointed ears. Still no sign of movement other than the rise and fall of the ribcage as the beast breathed. It was alive, but apparently unconscious. Tony couldn’t help but poke the creature once more.

“You know, they say you shouldn’t poke a sleeping bear,” Bruce said from nearby, his voice holding a hint of amusement.

“He’s out cold, so I’m not worried,” Tony replied, turning to face the doctor. “And why didn’t you join in the fun? I thought you were supposed to be helping?”

“Didn’t look like you needed any help,” Bruce responded. “Besides, the other guy probably wouldn’t have been able to take the bear alive.”

Tony just snorted in response and looked back to his fluffy foe. Two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had approached and were discussing how best to transport the animal to a secure facility. So long as it was away from him, he didn’t care what they did with it. And if it escaped and he had to go after it again, he’d just shoot it with the biggest weapon he could find. He was done with the beast. Tony’s last thought as he turned to leave was that the bear would make a nice rug for Fury’s office.

Chapter Text

She awoke to the feeling of something warm and wet methodically rubbing her face. Shishido cracked open her orange eyes. The pink tongue continued to lick pale violet skin as the Troll growled, one hand rising to push the white lion’s muzzle away. Choutaro grumbled but gave his mistress the room she needed. The Hunter was awake, and that had been his goal.
‘Shido quickly got to her two-toed feet, checking to make sure her bow and quiver were still securely in place. Satisfied that her weaponry was fine, the Hunter turned her attention to her surroundings. She was standing in an alley between two very tall brick buildings. One end of the alley featured a high wall, while the other opened onto a road upon which some very strange horseless vehicles were travelling. There were also people walking by. The Humans never so much as glanced down the alley, which suited ‘Shido just fine. She had no love for that race, and so far they appeared to be the only ones around.
Choutaro nudged her with his head, giving a questioning look when the Troll turned her attention to him.

“You gotta point, ‘Taro,” she said to her pet, scratching behind his ear. “We be needin’ ta move ta higher ground.”

‘Shido eyed the series of metal platforms connected by ladders that went up the side of the buildings. She could climb it easily, but her pet would take some coaxing. If Choutaro were a normal lion, he’d never have dreamed of climbing ladders. But the white beast wasn’t “normal” by any means…he was a Hunter’s pet. ‘Taro was smarter than the average beast, and well trained in many tasks never considered by a wild creature. He could climb the ladders, though it would take a little time.

“We be goin’ up, ‘Taro,” ‘Shido said as she pulled down the lowest ladder. “Ya watch yer step, mon. I don’t wanna be trainin’ no new lion.”

The pair scaled the fire escape fairly quickly given that one of them lacked opposable thumbs. Upon reaching the top, ‘Shido’s eyes widened in shock. This place was without doubt the largest city she’d ever seen! Impossibly tall buildings seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see in most directions. Beyond the buildings she saw a vast body of water that disappeared into the horizon. The Troll realized that wherever she was, it was important that she stay away from the Human population as she searched for her missing companions. Perhaps it would be best if they stayed to the rooftops.

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No one took notice of the two men in dark suits as they entered the alley. The shorter man reached into the pocket of his jacket and withdrew a small device that resembled a cell phone. After a moment of observing the display screen and poking buttons, he turned to his companion.

“This is definitely the origin point for the anomaly,” he said as he looked up from the scanner. “There is a residual energy reading, but it’s fading rapidly.”

The shorter man nodded to show he’d heard as his eyes continued to roam the alley, scrutinizing every inch. There was no sign of anything obviously out of the ordinary. He looked up at the fire escape and paused.

“That’s odd,” the shorter man muttered to himself as he reached towards the ladder. With a gentle tug, he removed a tuft of white hair from it had been wedged in one of the rungs.

“Find something?” The taller man put the scanner back in his jacket pocket as he approached his partner.

“Perhaps. This will need to be tested before we know for sure.” The short man looked up towards the roof of the building. One glance at his eyes and it was obvious he was considering the chances of something related to the energy readings climbing up the side of the structure. “If this hair belongs to something that came out of that portal, then it’s probably safe to assume whatever it was went high.”

“I’ll let Headquarters know what we found,” the taller Agent responded, pulling a phone from his pocket. “Let’s head to the next site.” With one final look around the alley, the two men departed.

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Rhewi landed with a yelp. It took a moment for the Mage to right herself. Upon regaining her footing, the brown-furred Worgen realized she was in some sort of large clothing shop. Never before had she seen so much ready-made clothing in one place. The humans, on the other hand, were nothing new. Rhewi had long since gotten used to being looked upon with fear and suspicion. The screaming still hurt her sensitive canine ears, and these particular humans were doing a lot of that. Obviously these people couldn’t tell a Gilnean from a feral Worgen. They were running away from her in panic, scattering like sheep from a wolf.

Someone shouted nearby, the commanding tone drawing the Worgen’s attention. Two men were rapidly approaching her location. Both held what Rhewi assumed to be weapons in their hands. She decided not to hang around to find out what the strange devices did. Bad memories surfaced to hasten the Worgen’s retreat. She moved between the racks of clothing quickly, ducking low to better hide from the eyes of the pursuing humans. Once out of sight, she dove into the center of a circular clothing rack that concealed her from view.

Rhewi took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down now that she was in relative safety. She concentrated on slowing her pounding heart and letting the adrenaline fade out of her system. Her lupine form began to shrink and melt away. In seconds a young human woman knelt where once a Worgen crouched. Rhewi had only just finished her transformation when the clothing of her hiding spot parted. Startled eyes looked into the face of one of the armed humans. He said something she didn’t understand. Focusing on the strange words, she muttered a spell under her breath. The man looked puzzled as he spoke again.

“Do you speak English, Miss?”

“Yes!” Rhewi responded with enthusiasm. “Sorry. What did you say before? I’m a bit flustered and didn’t hear you clearly.”

The man gave her what might pass for an understanding smile. She was fairly certain he was just humoring the emotional woman since that false sympathy failed to reach his eyes.

“Are you alright? Did you see where the werewolf went?”

“Werewolf?” Rhewi was puzzled by the strange word, but assumed that was what these people called Worgen. Certainly, she was very wolf-like in her true form. “Um…I think it ran that way,” she answered, pointing in a random direction. The man nodded and ordered her to exit the building immediately before rushing off. The Mage released a relieved breath as the man hurried out of view. She sent silent thanks to her old Master for insisting she learn that universal translation spell. This moment alone made it well worth all those hours spent in study.

Getting to her feet, Rhewi looked about for an exit. She saw a set of doors with a sign above them in glowing red text. The Translation Spell didn’t work on writing, but the doors were glass and she could clearly see sunlight and people on the other side. That must be the way out of the building. As she made her escape she paused briefly to grab a long coat from one of the racks. While that one man hadn’t seemed to notice that she was dressed in the same garb as the “werewolf,” others might just prove more observant. Rhewi had also noticed that her robes were very different from the local fashions, and it wouldn’t do for her to attract unnecessary attention. So she wrapped the dark gray coat about herself, gestured obscenely at the store’s interior, and exited the building.

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“What did I do to deserve this?”

The young man’s voice echoed in the darkness of the tunnel. His sandy-blonde hair was cut short and combed back. The dark suit was neatly pressed with not a speck of lint visible, but his dress shoes were ruined. His darker companion’s footwear was in a similar state thanks to their trek through New York City’s sewer system. Neither was particularly interested in thinking about exactly what it was they were stepping in.

“One,” the older man began, “you are a Junior Agent and subject to less than glamorous assignments. Two, you specifically are here because of that mouth of yours. I heard all about the incident in the cafeteria the other day.”

The blonde’s face flushed with mild embarrassment at the memory. He hadn’t meant for that comment to be overheard. Really, he hadn’t! It was just a joke! It wasn’t his fault that no one had bothered to warn him about the Senior Agent standing right behind him.

“So why are you here, then,” he asked, trying to shift the focus off himself and his embarrassment.

But the dark-skinned Agent was paying little attention to his young partner’s whining. The brown eyes studied the scanner in his hand with great intensity as he responded. “Someone had to come along and keep you in line, kid. I drew the short straw.”

The two men had been sent out with other teams to check a series of anomalous energy readings which had been detected across the city. So far they’d found nothing more unusual than fading energy signatures. This latest anomaly had flared up deep in the sewers, much to their displeasure.

“These readings are stronger than at the previous sites,” the older Agent stated, still focused on his scanner. “It was a more powerful surge than the others. Keep your eyes open.” The dark man paused as the scanner beeped to indicate they’d reached the source of the strange readings. Both men observed the area with the aid of their flashlights.

“Nothing here,” the young blonde stated after a few moments. “We should move on to the next site. Get a change of shoes on the way.”

“You need to get your eyes checked, kid,” the older Agent replied, his tone scolding. “Someone’s been here recently.” He crouched down, pointing his flashlight at a depression in the grime on the ground. “See this? A human, or something human-like, had to have made this print. Rats don’t have feet that big even if they did wear shoes.”

“Well, there’s obviously not anyone here now,” the young man grumbled. He just wanted to get out of the sewers. His partner was not amused.

“And this is why you are going to remain a Junior Agent for the foreseeable future. You don’t like the assignment so you rush the job and miss important information.” The darker man stood and turned to glare at the petulant blonde. “Keep up this attitude and you will be an EX-Agent, understand?”

The younger man opened his mouth, but his response was suddenly cut off as a bolt of purple energy slammed into his chest. The older Agent spun and drew his sidearm, moving just in time to avoid another blast. His skin tingled as the energy bolt crackled past his shoulder. Several gunshots rang out, the echo deafening in the confines of the tunnel. In the silence that followed, the Agent looked to his fallen partner. The young blonde’s chest was still sizzling; the scent of charred flesh hanging thick in the air. There was no need to check for a pulse. The Junior Agent was dead.

It took only seconds to check the blonde’s condition, but that was long enough. A heavy weight slammed into the dark man’s side, knocking him to the ground. Something clamped down painfully on his hand as sharp teeth tore at his throat. The Agent didn’t even have time to scream as the strange beast tore him to pieces.

The creature lifted its blood-coated head from the carcass as a cloaked figure emerged from the shadows. The stranger’s approach was met with a low hiss. A gloved hand came to rest on the smooth head in an almost affectionate manner. Humorless lips smiled cruelly beneath the concealing hood.

“Well done, my pet. Now let us follow their trail out of these catacombs.”

The beast growled as it sniffed the air and began to stalk down the path the two men had come by, its Master close behind.

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Agent Phil Coulson was Not Pleased. The day had begun in a routine manner. Breakfast, report to the office, do paperwork; just like the day before. And then someone decided to blow up Brooklyn.

The culprit had been subdued quickly, in part because his own technology proved to be unstable. S.H.I.E.L.D. had sent Captain America and Thor to handle the situation when the madman first appeared. Only one city block had suffered damage by the time the fighting was over. The robot itself had exploded in a most impressive display, the flash of colors temporarily blinding all those who witnessed it. The madman piloting it, however, had somehow managed to escape. Or possibly he’d been vaporized in the explosion, but Agent Coulson was not overly optimistic for that outcome. Agents were presently searching for the insane scientist. At least the mechanical monstrosity had proven more destructive to its creator than to the general populace.

The down side to the morning’s events was arranging clean-up and dealing with the fallout. Preliminary investigation had revealed that the weapon used some sort of trans-dimensional technology. The thing obviously hadn’t functioned as intended, but it’d still made life far more complicated for S.H.I.E.L.D.’s agents. Numerous small anomalies had been detected across the city. They only remained for a few seconds at most, but the residual energy readings had been enough to determine that these anomalies were rifts in reality. The thought of portals opening in New York City had prompted immediate action. Agents had been sent out to check each and every site where an anomaly was detected to ensure nothing came through. The last thing the city needed was another Chitauri incident.

Agent Coulson watched as the last of the robot wreckage was loaded into a truck for transport to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. Hopefully there was enough left intact for the scientists to determine exactly what the faulty weapon was supposed to do. Somehow, Coulson didn’t think blowing itself up and opening micro-portals was in the original blueprints.

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He opened his eyes to Chaos. This in and of itself wasn’t unusual. He reveled in chaos, especially if he was the cause. But this…
The last thing the Satyr remembered was watching his portal “explode” in a flash of rainbow light. He crouched low, hidden behind a large metal container, and watched. There was so much dust and smoke in the air it was hard to see more than a few yards in any direction. Pieces of metal were smoldering around him. Voices shouting in an unfamiliar language reached his long, pointed ears. “Probably best to avoid the locals,” he thought. At least until the language barrier had been dealt with. The Satyr had something of a silver tongue that had saved his hide on more than one occasion.

Something moved in the rubble to his left. A human male was struggling to get out from under a chunk of metal that might have once belonged to a large machine. The Satyr’s eyes narrowed as he realized the man was close enough to reach without revealing himself to anyone else. A clawed hand reached out and pressed against the human’s forehead. The Satyr hissed a few words and the human screamed as knowledge was ripped from his mind. The clawed hand withdrew, its owner giving the injured human an appraising look. The Satyr had taken Language from the Human’s mind, and also seen a few recent thoughts and images that proved most intriguing.

“You built a machine that makes portals? Speak quickly, Human,” the Satyr growled menacingly.

“I…ye…yes. Yes! Who are you?” The brown eyes were full of fear, but also curiosity. The Satyr’s reply was interrupted by sounds of movement nearby. Someone was approaching, and from the look on the human’s face it wasn’t an ally. The Satyr made a quick decision and shoved the metal wreckage off the human, lifting the man to his feet.

“You will take me someplace we can speak without interruption. Tell me of this portal machine I saw in your mind. Then I shall decide if you are worth leaving alive,” the cold voice growled into the human’s ear. The man swallowed, gave one glance towards the voices, and nodded. He motioned for the Satyr to follow and quickly lead the way into a damaged building. From there they escaped under the cover of smoke and dust. They had much to discuss.

Chapter Text

A pair of pale blue eyes shot open as their owner jerked awake. ‘Ice brushed the long, blond hair out of his face and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He got to his feet as quietly as possible, which was not nearly so silent as he’d have liked. His black armor had not been created for stealth. The Blood Elf was relieved to see he was alone in the room. His long, pointed ears listened, but heard nothing to indicate anyone approaching from beyond the closed door. Only one proper door, he noticed. His cold gaze took in the rest of the room. The walls were lined floor to ceiling with small, square doors. A black-gloved hand reached for the nearest handle and pulled.
‘Ice tightened his grip on the hilt of his Runeblade as he observed that which was behind the little door. In the dim light the markings on the sword’s blade glowed with the same ethereal blue as his eyes. A feeling somewhat like pleasure filled the Death Knight as he stared down at the human corpse. Did all these little doors hold bodies within? It took mere moments for ‘Ice to check the entire room. Some doors proved empty, but he had a total of seven human corpses at the end of his search. His lips curved into a cruel smile. Raising the Runeblade above his head, the Death Knight began to chant.

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It had been a long, boring day for Dan. He’d been pleased to land the job at the morgue. He’d had a rough few years spent unemployed and living on his parents’ charity. But now he had a steady paycheck and life was looking…well, not ‘good’ exactly, but certainly better than before. He didn’t mind being a security guard, really. It was just that there was so little to do. He worked alone most of the time, and the dead weren’t much for conversation. About the most exciting thing that had happened while he was on the job was when a new assistant had managed to lose a body. The corpse had just been stored in the wrong drawer and was found fairly quickly, but the youth responsible had been so frantic that Dan was sure they’d pass out from the strain. He shook his head as he patrolled the dimly-lit hallway. There was a fresh pot of coffee waiting for him back in the office, and only another hour before his shift ended. He was bored out of his mind, but at least the caffeine would keep him awake.
The security guard came to a sudden stop and listened carefully. He was sure he’d heard something strange just then. And…there it was! It sounded like some sort of strange chanting. It was a man’s voice, no doubt about that. But the language was foreign. Dan moved silently to the closed door that lead into the room where the newly-arrived bodies were kept. He peered through the small glass window but couldn’t make anything out in the darkness. Wait…there! Movement! A faint blue glow. Someone was in there at a time when he was supposed to be the only person in the building. Anyone legitimately working late would have turned the lights on. And he was fairly certain that no one who worked there carried around blue glowsticks.
Dan reached for his baton (he wasn’t allowed to carry a firearm) and slowly turned the door handle. Taking a deep breath, he threw the door open and flicked on the light switch.

“Alright, hold it ri…”

Dan’s voice caught in his throat as he stared in horror at the sight that greeted him. His mind screamed that it was impossible; that he must have fallen asleep and was having a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare! No way could this be real. It just couldn’t.
A pair of glowing ice-blue eyes held his attention. Their owner looked like the villain from a fantasy movie. He was a tall, thin man wearing what appeared to be dull black armor with skull designs on it. Part of his long blond hair was swept back from his face and partially braided into a sort of topknot. He had pale skin, a small goatee, and long, pointed ears. But what really caught Dan’s attention were the seven other figures that surrounded the armored man. All seven had the look of zombies. The white of bone was visible beyond the gaps in the decaying flesh. They appeared to be half-rotten monsters with boney claws for fingers and sharp teeth protruding from their open jaws. Some still had their eyes while others were graced with empty black voids. The smell of putrid flesh hung heavily in the cool air as Dan tried to process what he was seeing.

The armored figure raised his arm and pointed the tip of a very large, very sharp looking sword at Dan’s chest. The stranger’s lips twisted in a sneer as he spoke.

“ Do’rah!”

With that single command the seven animated corpses lurched forward. Dan snapped out of his frozen panic and tried to slam the door before they reached him, but he wasn’t fast enough. The clawed hands grabbed at his arms and shirt, pulling him towards them. The creatures growled and hissed as they ripped at his clothing. They weren’t any stronger than the average person, but it was seven against one. Dan screamed as the gruesome attackers sank claws and teeth into his flesh. He was about to die, he realized. He couldn’t help but think that he was surely the first human to be ripped apart by actual zombies. The armored elf approached and violently rammed the long blade into his chest. The security guard choked on his own blood as it bubbled up his throat and spilled from his mouth. The stranger smiled cruelly as Dan’s vision faded.

The melodic voice of his murderer was the last thing Dan heard before Darkness claimed him. Unlike before, he understood.

“You will rise again, Human. In Death, you will serve me.”

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When the alert came in, it was late. Or early, depending on your point of view. S.H.I.E.L.D. had spent the entire day chasing anomalies throughout the city. They had found nothing of interest at most of the sites, but there were exceptions. One of the earliest readings had resulted in the capture of an alien bear and the need for Mr. Stark to repair his Iron Man armor. Another instance had involved a “werewolf” sighting in a department store. The creature had escaped and was still at large, which did not sit well with S.H.I.E.L.D.’s higher-ups. The worst had been the anomaly in the sewers. Two agents had been sent to investigate. When they didn’t report back in a timely manner, a team was sent to find them. The remains of the missing men were so thoroughly mutilated that it was impossible to tell what belonged to who. The fact that whatever had done this was still roaming free just made matters worse. And now, hours after the last anomaly had been detected, there was yet another one that needed investigating.

Agent Phil Coulson sighed and dropped his head into his hands. He had hoped that the anomalies were finally over. But there was that damned alert flashing at him again. Preliminary readings indicated that this one had been fairly strong. He took a deep breath and reached for his phone. After losing two agents to an unknown adversary, he was taking no chances. He quickly placed the call to send two of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s best assets to the scene. They weren’t subtle, but at least they should be able to handle whatever nasty creature this latest anomaly had unleashed into the city. He arranged for a backup team to be ready, just in case his chosen first responders needed help. Hopefully it would prove to be just another false alarm, but Phil wasn’t feeling overly optimistic.

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Why does my tail hurt?

Golaugost groaned and cracked open one sky-blue eye. His pointed ears could hear voices franticly shouting in an unknown language. The sky was dark, but there were lights all around him. The Draenei realized that his tail, a long, thick appendage which aided balance, was bent awkwardly beneath his body. He also realized that he was sprawled head-down on a set of hard stone steps. The Paladin struggled to roll over and get his hooves under him. The heavy gold armor made this feat a bit more difficult than it should have been. Golaugost stood at roughly eight feet tall once he’d sorted out his limbs. He checked himself for injury. His dark blue skin naturally had hints of violet, thus any bruising would be virtually invisible. No broken bones or bleeding wounds, which was good; just a sore tail and a headache. He shook his horned head, trying to clear the fog that seemed to have obscured his thoughts. His dark brown hair was partly gathered back in a ponytail, with the rest hanging down over his broad shoulders. The four delicate tentacles protruding from his jaw quivered slightly as adrenaline began to course through his veins. The glowing blue eyes observed the fearful and excited humans that were keeping a ‘safe’ distance from him. Their clothing was unlike that of the Humans of Azeroth.
The Paladin was standing on the steps leading up to a building that reminded him of a smaller version of Stormwind’s Cathedral of Light. Looking around, he couldn’t help but notice that the other buildings were like no construction style he was familiar with. The lights that lined the street did not seem to be powered by either flame or magic, which were the two primary methods used on Azeroth. Even the air smelled wrong. Another world, then. The Draenei was no stranger to interplanetary exploration. His people had fled their homeworld long ago to escape the demonic forces of the Burning Legion. Since that time they had settled on various planets only to flee again when the Legion found them. Although he was still considered young for one of his race, Golaugost was old enough to remember travelling in the ship between worlds. Draenei lived a very long time if not cut down by violence.

The sound of high-pitched wailing drew Golau’s attention back to the present. Some sort of vehicle was approaching with blue lights flashing brightly. An identical vehicle came hurtling around the corner. Both pulled to a stop as the sirens went silent. Humans in identical dark uniforms emerged holding small weapons on their hands. Golaugost wasn’t sure he wanted to find out what the small weapons did. He rested one hand on the handle of the golden mace that hung from his belt and slung the sturdy shield off his back. While the Draenei had no desire to harm the Humans, he didn’t trust them to feel the same.

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Agent Clint Barton, otherwise known as Hawkeye, settled into position atop the dark roof. This was the best spot to keep an eye on the situation below. He had an unobstructed view of the church steps and the strange creature standing upon them. Police cars had formed a barricade behind which officers crouched, weapons drawn and pointed towards the monster. It struck Clint as bit ironic that something looking like a ‘demon’ would end up in front of a church. He notched an arrow and took aim.

“I’m in position. There’s a blue demon wearing gold armor down there. He’s holding a shield in front of him, but his weapon is still on his belt. Seems like he’s waiting to see what the police do next.”

Agent Barton had only just settled comfortably into position when something pulled his attention away from the “demon.” Chaos had erupted down the street. Civilians were screaming and running towards the church, unaware of the creature on the steps. Traffic was at a complete standstill as drivers abandoned their vehicles to join in the stampede. Barton’s eyes widened in shock as the cause of such panic came into view. This couldn’t be what it looked like. Horror movies just didn’t come to life like this! He activated his com unit.

“This is Barton. You’re not gonna believe this, but I swear the Zombie Apocalypse just started.”

In the street below, moving at a steady pace, were what appeared to be over a dozen zombies. They were all obviously dead with rotting flesh and missing body parts. Most had the tattered remains of clothing hanging loosely off their bodies, but some were completely naked. They seemed single-minded in their pursuit of the panicked people.
One figure stood out from the rest of the Undead. He was the only one wearing armor, which was a dull black, and he carried a rather large sword. He seemed to be directing the zombies somehow.

A man in a suit tripped and fell as he tried to flee. The zombies were on him before Hawkeye could loose an arrow. They tore the man’s abdomen, ripping out his entrails like so much bloody rope. The ghouls backed away from their dying prey as the armor-clad figure approached. That large sword was forcefully plunged into the victim’s chest. Barton couldn’t tell what was said, but he could see the pale lips moving as their owner pulled his sword out of the corpse. The unfortunate man’s body began to convulse as soon as the blade was removed. The flesh rotted away over the course of mere seconds. The skin on the fingers melted into boney claws as sharp fangs erupted from the jaw. The now-undead man scrambled awkwardly to his feet as the black-clad swordsman smiled. The horde of zombies continued on their rampage, their numbers increased by one.

Hawkeye blinked and shook himself. Anything else and he’d have already let loose a volley of arrows at the obviously hostile force. But this was a nightmare come to life. It was completely unexpected and the Agent needed a moment to process that what he was seeing was real. But only a moment.
Barton opened fire on the hostiles. After two shots he realized that regular arrows had no effect on the Undead. Even a direct hit to the head did nothing to slow them down. He couldn’t use the exploding arrows due to the close proximity of so many civilians. Perhaps fire…didn’t fire usually work against zombies in the movies? Or was that vampires? Clint selected an incendiary tip for his next arrow and shot a zombie center-mass. The ghoul howled as it went up in flames. The others shied away, but the swordsman rushed forward and slashed at his burning minion. The unearthly howling stopped as the still-smoldering corpse fell to the asphalt, unmoving. The blonde swordsman motioned with his blade and the group resumed their previous march.

“Let’s see if you’re as immune to arrows as your friends…”

Barton sent another incendiary arrow flying, this time aiming for the man in the black armor. He was obviously in control and it was possible the zombies would be easier to take down if their leader was out of the picture. The arrow whistled past its target as the swordsman managed to duck at the last moment. It hit another ghoul, which the armored leader immediately dispatched after it went up in flames. Several more arrows saw the demise of more zombies, but the leader remained unscathed.

“You are seriously pissing me off now, Blondey.”

The sound of gunshots drew Agent Barton’s attention away from his Undead targets. He’d forgotten about the ‘demon’ at the church when the zombies showed up and started killing people. But now it looked like the ‘demon’ was moving to join the Undead. Police Officers had opened fire when the blue and gold creature started running. It looked as though the bullets had either missed their target completely or hit the shield. The mace was no longer on the monster’s belt; he was gripping it firmly, holding the weapon in a way that said, “I’m ready for battle.” Clint notched another arrow but refrained from firing. There was something about the way the ‘demon’ was charging that made him hold back.
The swordsman and his ghoul army had a very strong reaction to seeing the blue and gold figure hurtling towards them. The ghouls leapt at the massive creature, but he swatted them away with apparent ease. A faint golden light shone from the mace and expanded to wrap around the blue-skinned body. The Undead reacted as if burned when they got close to the glowing figure. The ghouls retreated to surround their master. Barton watched as the black-clad swordsman raised his blade high and charged, snarling viciously. The creature in the golden armor readied his shield and mace, and braced himself against the attack. As the black blade met the gold shield, the air itself seemed to reverberate with the Power of Light and Darkness.

Chapter Text

The force of impact shook the Paladin’s entire body. As the blade slid off his shield, Golaugost swung his mace at the Death Knight’s head, missing by a mere hair’s breadth. His foe dodged out of the way, lips curling in a vicious snarl as the sword was raised in preparation for the next attack. Golau regarded his enemy through narrowed eyes. The Blood Elf was considerably shorter than himself, the lithe form far less muscled. Against a typical foe of such stature the Draenei would have a significant advantage in strength. But that usual advantage was negated by the very nature of this particular foe. Death Knights were unnatural creations spawned from Demonic powers of Necromancy. As such, they had strength beyond that of their once-mortal bodies. They were Undead killing machines, and it would be folly to underestimate such creatures. This Death Knight was a match for Golau in strength, and also had the added advantage of greater agility.

The unintelligible sound of a ghoul’s chattering reminded the Paladin of yet another advantage the Death Knight held. He eyed the animated corpses as they circled him. This was what made Death Knights so feared…they had the ability to raise the dead. It was difficult to battle against an enemy that could turn your fallen comrades into reinforcements. It was a horrible thing to watch a friend die. It was more terrible still to see that same friend rise up against you as an enemy.  The handful of ghouls serving this particular Death Knight were strangers to Golau, but that did little to comfort him. They had once been alive with families who loved them. They did not deserve to be trapped in Undeath as mindless minions.

Golaugost was matched in strength with his foe, and outnumbered as well. Ghouls were significantly weaker than their masters, but their tendency to swarm like ants could easily overpower a single adversary. It would seem the Paladin was at a distinct disadvantage against such odds. Blue lips curved upwards into a confident smile as his eyes met those of the Blood Elf. There was one weapon he had that could turn the tide against such Darkness. He was a Paladin; a holy warrior of righteousness. He had the Light on his side.

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‘Ice hissed as the Draenei began to glow with a golden aura. Of all possible adversaries, it would be a Paladin that found him in this strange place. The Light burned. But the Death Knight was no stranger to pain. Born of violence and unholy powers, his every breath was beautiful agony. It would take more than a little seared flesh to defeat him.

“Attack, minions! Rip him apart!”

The undead creatures immediately leapt upon the blue and gold figure. The Light burned, and they howled in pain, but still they obeyed their master. Boney claws ripped at the edges of golden armor in an attempt to reach the soft blue flesh beneath. There was a sickening crunch as the Paladin’s mace smashed through the bone of a ribcage, flinging the foul creature through the glass window of a nearby building. Humans screamed as glass shattered, removing the frail barrier between themselves and the chaos outside.

The Blood Elf frowned slightly as he counted his ghouls. Only three left fighting, and soon to be less if the Draenei had his way. ‘Ice turned towards the broken window. Humans were huddled under tables, as if a bit of wood and metal would protect them. Fools. But even such pitiful specimens had their uses. They would make excellent reinforcements. The Death Knight stepped through the opening, shattered glass crunching under his armored boots. He approached three terrified individuals who’d been trying to hide in a corner. The markings on his Runeblade glowed blue as ‘Ice prepared to strike. Before he could deliver a killing blow, however, something flew past his head and impacted with the dark blade. The weapon was knocked out of his grasp and ‘Ice blinked in surprise. Turning his head, he saw a Human standing defiantly just outside the shattered window. The man was wearing one of the most ridiculous outfits the Elf had ever seen. It was mostly blue, with red and white, and clung close to the skin in a manner that displayed the man’s muscular build. The tall figure was armed only with a red, white and blue shield. The man met ‘Ice’s gaze, his blue eyes holding a fierce determination that the Death Knight could not help but approve of. This was a true Warrior that stood before him. Absurd “armor” aside, this one would make a truly grand ghoul once defeated.

The blue-clad human said something in a language ‘Ice didn’t understand. It was probably a demand for surrender. It seemed like the vast majority of enemies always started a fight with that offer: surrender or die. The Elf had no intention of surrendering. Cold blue eyes showed amusement as he made a dive for his fallen Runeblade. A sword against a shield? This battle would be swift, certainly.

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Captain Steve Rogers blinked as he processed Hawkeye’s words. Zombie apocalypse? That had to be yet another pop culture reference that he just didn’t get. He did, however, know what a zombie was, and that couldn’t mean anything good awaited him. When Agent Coulson had called Thor and himself, the Captain had been under the impression that this was mostly a recon mission with a very low probability for violence. They were only going in as a precaution. Honestly, no one had seemed to think they’d actually need to do anything. But now Barton was relating tales of blue demons and the undead rampaging down a crowded street. Steve got the feeling that this was going to end up being one of the stranger things he’d encountered in his life.

Thor and the Captain were quickly flown to the proper location, but the few minutes it took to arrive at the site of the chaos seemed to last forever. Steve took in the situation with a glance. The two hostiles were fighting each other. That didn’t necessarily make them “friends” but it also meant that they weren’t hurting any more civilians so long as their attention was focused on one another. The larger of the two, Clint’s “blue demon,” was armed with a shield and mace. The smaller figure had a large sword, and was in command of the zombies.

“Thor, you take the blue one in the gold armor. See if you can neutralize those undead things that are attacking him. I’ll handle the other one.”

The Thunder God nodded and charged into battle as the Captain headed towards the figure in black armor. The swordsman had turned away from his blue foe and entered a building filled with terrified civilians. As the massive sword was raised in preparation to strike an innocent person, Captain America threw his shield. The sword fell, and suddenly the human hero had the undivided attention of his enemy. Steve’s eyes narrowed as he observed the amused expression on the blond creature’s face. Apparently his opponent wasn’t impressed. That was good. “Unimpressed” meant he’d be underestimated. He could use that to his advantage.

“Surrender now, and I promise no harm will come to you. No one else has to die tonight.”

Steve’s words fell on deaf ears. The black-clad man smirked as he suddenly dove for his fallen sword. He had the hilt in his hands and came up swinging. Steve blocked the blow with his shield, deflecting the blade as he threw a punch at his adversary’s face. The elf barely managed to dodge the hit. Ducking low, the enemy charged. An armored shoulder impacted the Captain’s midsection in an attempt to throw him off balance. But Captain America was so not easily toppled. He hit the armored back with his shield, knocking the man to the ground with a surprised yelp.

“Man’ar il’amare alah osa mush, shano. Ash dal’dieb eburi turUs ishura ni.”

The Captain was unnerved by the hollow, echoing quality to the swordsman’s voice. It was…well, it was like hearing something from beyond the grave speaking to him. He didn’t understand what was said for the language was like none he’d heard before. The melodic words combined with the deathly echo sent an involuntary shiver down Steve’s spine.  In the next moment, the elf was back on his feet and the fight was on again. There was no time to think about anything other than staying alive and defeating his adversary. Contemplation of the alien nature of the enemy would have to wait for later.

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Thor held Mjölnirhigh as he charged into battle.  He spared a glance for the Captain as the human engaged the black-clad swordsman. His attention snapped back to the strange warrior who continued his battle with the undead creatures. Zombies, Clint called them. Mjölnir smashed into one of the fiends, crushing the skull with a satisfying crunch and delivering true death. The blue-skinned warrior vanquished another zombie in similar fashion using his mace. The third ghoul hesitated before fleeing back towards its master. Thor let it go, turning his full attention to the living foe.

The Asgardian was momentarily reminded of Heimdall, what with the gold armor, imposing figure, and stoic facial expression. But there the resemblance to anything familiar ended. The blue-skinned warrior was unlike any creature known in the Nine Realms.

“X maze zila enkil il zila, belaros. Maz X alar gul azgalada xi kazile archim.”

Thor blinked in surprise. The All-Speak should have allowed him to understand the stranger’s words, but all he heard was a guttural language that meant nothing to his ears. Truly this foe was from a realm beyond the Nine.

“I do not understand you, stranger…”

The glowing sky-blue eyes narrowed slightly. It would seem the alien warrior had just as little understanding of Thor’s words as the Prince had his. Thor observed the tightening of his adversary’s grip upon the mace, and the subtle shift as the gold-clad body tensed. When the attack came the Asgardian was ready. Mace met hammer as the warriors clashed. Thor quickly realized that his opponent was a match in strength. The Prince grinned…it seemed this fight would be a welcome challenge after all. The pair traded blows for several moments with neither gaining an advantage. Thor was enjoying himself. It was almost like sparring with the Warriors Three. It was obvious from the start that the blue-skinned creature wasn’t aiming to kill. The stranger seemed more interested in disabling Thor than killing him. The Asgardian’s respect for this foe was growing with every swing of his weapon.

The Prince dodged a blow, kicking at the gold-clad warrior’s leg as he moved. The hooved creature stumbled but did not fall. Still, Thor had enough time to glance at his teammate as the creature regained solid footing. It seemed the Captain was not fairing as well as Thor. The black-clad swordsman was attacking viciously, slashing swiftly with the large blade as his zombie minion attacked from behind. Captain America was holding his own, but just barely. Thor needed to end his “friendly” fight quickly so as to assist his teammate.

Thor turned back to his own opponent and was surprised to see that the creature was also looking towards the Captain. Those warm blue eyes met Thor’s gaze with a thoughtful expression. The golden mace was raised slowly in a non-threatening gesture as the warrior pointed towards the conflict. The shield arm came up next, pointing towards Thor, then at the creature’s chest. The blue-skinned adversary then struck his shield with his mace. The message was clear; this stranger was offering to stop fighting Thor in favor of joining the battle against the black-clad swordsman and his undead minion. Thor narrowed his eyes, then grinned broadly as he nodded. Blue lips quirked upwards in a small smile as the pair of warriors turned their full attention to the other battle.

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Hawkeye watched his teammates battle in the street below. Thor almost looked to be playing, but Steve was struggling with his two opponents. The urge to help was rising as he considered his arrow options. Exploding arrows were out; he didn’t want to risk hurting Cap or Thor (even if the two were likely to survive just fine). The flaming arrows had done a great job taking out the zombies, but their black-clad master wasn’t so easily dealt with. Clint muttered curses under his breath at the swordsman’s quick reflexes that allowed him to avoid arrows. Only one zombie remained, and while a fire arrow would certainly take it down, it was far too close to the Captain. If he’d been allowed to use deadly force the archer could have already dropped both hostiles, but S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted them alive and as intact as possible. Clint nocked an armor-piercing arrow and continued observing the fight below. If it looked like one of his fellow Avengers was going to take a fatal blow, then he’d drop the enemy immediately, orders be damned.

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Captain America ducked yet again to avoid the black blade as it slashed towards him. The strange swordsman seemed to be tireless in his assault. They’d been fighting hard for a good twenty minutes already and the blond foe showed not a single sign of fatigue. Steve was starting to wonder if his opponent had been enhanced in some way, or if the man’s species naturally had such stamina. The Captain continued to block and dodge that deadly sword even as a single zombie kept lunging at him from behind. The zombie was more annoying than dangerous to the super soldier. It wasn’t much stronger than a normal human, and didn’t seem to be very intelligent. But it was providing enough of a distraction that the swordsman was starting to gain the upper hand.

The zombie lunged as the sword swung. Steve couldn’t avoid them both this time; he decided the blade was the greater threat and moved to block it with his shield. Suddenly something flew in from the side, hitting the zombie in mid-leap and sending the foul creature smashing into a brick wall. Before the minion could right itself a series of arrows impaled its body, effectively pinning it to the wall. Steve was very surprised to see Thor and the blue-skinned creature charging in to aid him against the black-clad enemy.

The swordsman seemed equally surprised to find himself fighting three against one. This realization did nothing to dampen his spirits. If anything, he became even more vicious in his attacks. Steve stepped back to allow Thor and their new ally room to fight. The two burly warriors moved as one to strike at the enemy from opposite sides. Amazingly, the swordsman managed to counter both attacks using his superior speed and agility. The Captain watched for an opening as the three continued their dance. The black blade slashed Thor’s arm, drawing blood but failing to seriously injure the Asgardian. The swordsman seemed all the more enthusiastic for having spilled blood, his cold blue eyes lingering on the injury. The blue-skinned creature took advantage of this distraction by sending a flash of blinding golden light into the enemy. The black-clad foe screamed as the light hit him. Steve saw his opening and struck quickly. The shield struck the blond foe in the back of his head, sending him to his knees. Those icy blue eyes stared blindly in shock before closing as the figure crumpled to the ground.

The three warriors cautiously approached the fallen enemy. The blue-skinned one nudged the black figure with his hoof. There was no reaction. Steve called in their victory to S.H.I.E.L.D. as Thor smiled broadly at their unexpected ally. The Captain wasn’t sure what had happened to convince the stranger to side with them, but he was glad of the outcome. Now if they could just convince S.H.I.E.L.D. that the blue “demon” wasn’t completely hostile.

A large ground transport vehicle pulled into the road and made its way past debris and charred corpses. The Agents who poured out of it were armed and pointing their weapons at the two unknown figures. The team quickly secured both zombie and unconscious swordsman inside the transport. The team then turned their attention, and weapons, on the tall blue creature. Steve motioned for the gold-clad warrior to put down his weapons. He tried to give a reassuring smile as he did so. Thor, too, encouraged his new friend to come along peacefully. The blue-skinned “demon” stood without moving for a moment before sighing in resignation. The mace and shield were handed to Thor before he allowed the humans to lead him into the transport to be taken to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.

Unseen by any human eye, a dark shape rose into the night sky. The large avian silhouette followed the transport vehicle to its destination. Brown feathers rustled as golden eyes considered how to handle this latest development.

Chapter Text

Rhewi studied the building’s entrance with trepidation. She knew Golaugost was inside, but not exactly where. That battle in the street the previous night had attracted her like a moth to a flame. She still didn’t know where Burn was, assuming he’d even been transported to this strange place, but at least she’s she’d managed to locate one of her wayward companions. Not that that did her much good considering the Draenei was currently inside a large building filled with humans. She glared at the structure. Was Golau a prisoner? The Worgen had seen how her comrade had fought alongside two strange warriors to take down that Death Knight and his Ghoul. Surely the Paladin wouldn’t be considered an enemy after that?

The Mage sighed in exasperation. She needed to get inside the building and find that sanctimonious space goat. Rhewi wasn’t overly fond of Golau, but they were allies. Plus Burn would give her the “disappointed bear eyes” if she didn’t help his blue-skinned friend. With a low growl and some muttered words, Rhewi faded until she became Invisible. The spell wouldn’t last forever so she needed to move quickly. She darted into the building as a pair of humans in dark suits exited. Rhewi was inside…now, to find Golaugost and get out without causing too much of a commotion.

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Harvist soared about the city and considered the next course of action. She knew her Death Knight friend was inside that building. She also knew he was likely to be locked up in the most secure cage those humans had. ‘Ice was such an idiot! She’d been afraid he’d do something to get into trouble. The elf had accepted Harvist as his leader, and with that agreed to respect and uphold her values. But he did tend to go a bit out of control when left on his own for too long. Death Knights! Sometimes it was like dealing with a spoiled child. The stormcrow squawked in exasperation.

A shadow moved on a nearby roof. There was something familiar about the dark shape. Harvist swooped closer and chirped in pleased surprise. A familiar face at last! The stormcrow dove for the figure on the roof, cawing in greeting. The Troll leapt back just in time to avoid a face full of brown feathers. Harvist landed beside Shishido and quickly transformed back to Tauren.

“I am so happy to see you, ‘Shido! And you as well, Choutaro. Did you have any trouble with the local Humans? I found ‘Ice last night, but we’ll have to break him out of that building across the road.”

Harvist petted the white lion as she spoke to her friend. The Troll had been fighting alongside herself and ‘Ice when the flash of light had occurred. It was good to find ‘Shido unharmed. The Hunter’s skills would be invaluable in freeing their Death Knight.

“No trouble wit da Humans, mon. Cho and me, we go high right off. Avoid everyone. I know ‘Ice be captured. I saw dat fool elf fightin’ in da streets. Was hopin’ ta find ya, and here ya be.”

“I think you’re the only one of us that hasn’t been seen. I tried to help a fellow Druid, but he was captured. I barely got away myself.”

‘Shido eyed Harvist carefully at that comment.

“I don’t recall any Druids wit us before we come here. Unless you be talkin’ ‘bout dat Night Elf.”

The Troll’s lips curled into a disgusted sneer as the said “Night Elf.” The animosity between Trolls and Elves went back thousands of years, and even having Blood Elves as allies had done little to lessen traditional hatreds. Harvist sighed.

“Yes, it was the Night Elf. Don’t give me that look. You know I’ll aid a fellow Druid in need, regardless of race or faction allegiance. Unless they’re trying to kill my friends.”

‘Shido sniffed, but didn’t say anything more on the matter. The Tauren knew her silence did not mean agreement. It was an old argument, and they’d decided long ago to just agree to disagree. Harvist was a member of the Horde, but she was also part of the Cenarian Circle. That Nature-obsessed Druidic organization was made up of members of both Horde and Alliance, so faction disputes were usually put aside for the Greater Good.

“So I been watchin’ da building since last night. Best way in is ta send Cho Prowlin’ for reconnaissance. Den we go in, grab ‘Ice, an be gone ‘fore day know what happened.”

“You’d use Eyes of the Beast on Choutaro? Sounds good. You should be safe enough up here. I don’t think the Humans spend much time on top of their tall buildings. I’ll Prowl in, too, though. If we run into trouble, you’ll be our backup.”

Harvist transformed into her lion-like Cat form as ‘Shido concentrated on her pet. ‘Eyes of the Beast’ was a useful Hunter spell, but it had drawbacks. While it allowed the Hunter to see and hear through their pet, as well as give commands, it left the Hunter’s body vulnerable to attack. While the spell remained active, ‘Shido would have no knowledge of her surroundings, and would be unable to move until the connection was broken. It was a risky plan. If someone happened to see the Troll hiding on the roof, she’d be defenseless. But if all three of them went into the building in search of ‘Ice, there would be no one to come to the rescue if things went badly. Really, Harvist figured the risk was worth it when all options were weighed.

The white lion looked at the Druid and motioned with his head to indicate they should get moving. ‘Shido was in control. Harvist nodded as she concentrated on Prowling. Choutaro did the same. The two large felines faded to near-invisible as they carefully made their way down the fire escape and across the road. It took a few moments for the door to be opened by a Human in a dark suit. The cats dashed inside quickly, nearly getting themselves stuck as the two large bodies passed through the door simultaneously.

Once inside Harvist took the lead. She sniffed the air for any hint of her missing friend, but found no trace of ‘Ice’s unique scent. All Death Knights smelled of Decay, but ‘Ice also had hints of Blood, Cold and Jasmine. So far as Harvist was aware, he was the only creature that used Twilight Jasmine scented soap. It made him easy to pick out in a crowd. Unfortunately, there was no hint of a jasmine-scented corpse in the building’s lobby. The Druid huffed quietly and headed down a hallway in search of stairs, Choutaro close on her heels. Prisoners were usually held in the dungeon, so the search would start on the lowest level they could reach. It was a large building and Humans were everywhere so they had to be very careful to avoid being stepped on. Unless they got lucky, it was going to be a very long day.

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Rhewi considered the door in front of her with a frown. She’d followed a man pushing a metal cart piled high with covered trays after hearing him say something about “food for the prisoners.” The man had led her to this spot before disappearing into the room beyond. The large cart had made it impossible for the Mage to sneak inside with him, unfortunately. She’d just have to wait until someone opened the door again and hope there was enough space to slip inside.

What seemed like an eternity later (but was in reality no more than thirty minutes) the door swung open. Rhewi quickly ducked into the room as the man with the cart came out. She looked around for any more Humans, but saw none. Inside the room was a line of cells, the front of which were made of what looked to be glass. The Mage snorted softly. Surely it wasn’t actually glass? It had to be something stronger to be used in prison cells. Glass would be far too easy for the occupants to shatter and escape.

The nearest cell contained a Ghoul, which was chewing on a metal tray. Remnants of the foul creature’s meal littered the floor. It apparently didn’t like meatloaf. Rhewi scrunched up her nose in disgust as she observed the undead thing. It looked to be “fresh.” That Death Knight must have raised it from a freshly slain corpse. The clothing, while ripped and bloody, was mostly intact. A stain of red on the chest indicated where the deathblow had pierced the body. This had been a living Human yesterday. Today it was a mindless abomination that served no purpose other than to kill. Tragic as the Ghoul’s situation was, Rhewi would gladly burn it to cinders with a Fireball if she had the opportunity.

The next cell was empty, but the one after it held a familiar form. The Death Knight she’d seen the night before paced back and forth like a caged animal, muttering to himself in agitation. The tray of food sat untouched on the floor near a slot in the not-glass wall. Obviously these Humans didn’t know anything about the undead. While they could eat, they didn’t really need food to survive. Not like a living creature needed food. The Blood Elf paused in his pacing, glared at the tray, cursed in Thalassian, then continued as before. He gave no indication of sensing Rhewi’s presence.

The Mage kept to the far wall as she passed the Death Knight’s cell. She turned her attention to the next enclosure and was met with an unexpected yet welcome sight. This one held a large pile of plum-colored fluff. Rhewi tapped on the not-glass. The Bear grumbled and shifted into a sitting position, amber eyes searching for the source of the noise. She cancelled her Invisibility spell once Burn was looking in her direction.

“You are so lucky I found, Burn. I didn’t even realize you’d been transported along with the rest of us. How did you manage to get yourself in this cage? Actually…don’t answer that. I can imagine how it happened all on my own.”

The bear sniffed at her, a slightly affronted look crossing his face. Rhewi grinned. She still had to find Golau, but with Burn to help the search would go so much faster. She turned her attention to the cell’s door. It had some kind of device on it that she was unfamiliar with. Her eyes narrowed.

“You wouldn’t happen to know how to open the door, would you? I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

Burn shook his head. No help from the bear, then. She’d just have to figure out how to open the door on her own.

“I don’t suppose you’d care to open my cell after you’ve gotten that walking rug out of his? I’m sure we could come to some mutually beneficial arrangement if you free me.”

Rhewi turned to the Death Knight and snarled. He was smirking at her! Smirking! The arrogance of that elf, actually daring to ask her to let him out! Well, he’d just have to stay put. She didn’t need some Horde jerk tagging along; especially not a Death Knight! The Worgen had serious issues with the undead members of the Horde. They’d invaded her home and driven most of her people to seek asylum with the Night Elves. If it didn’t have a pulse, Rhewi had no intention of helping it. She glared once more before deciding to ignore the Blood Elf and concentrate on getting Burn free.

“Very well. I’ll be here when you realize you need my help to get out of the building.”

Doing her best to ignore the arrogant jerk in the next cell, Rhewi focused her attention on the lock of Burn’s prison. She wasn’t very technologically savvy. Maybe Burn could have figured something out if he’d been on this side of the glass, but she was clueless. Oh, well. She was a Mage, wasn’t she? She’d just have to go with what she knew.

“Stand back. I’m going to try something. You might want to cover your face.”

The bear quickly moved to the rear wall and shoved it snout between his forepaws. Rhewi took a deep breath, concentrated on pooling her power, then took a single step back and “threw” a Frostbolt at the lock. She quickly followed that with a blazing Fireball. The locking mechanism was frozen solid, then heated to molten temperatures in a matter of seconds. It shattered in an impressive spray of metal chunks and bits of wire. Rhewi had just enough time to smile at her success before the alarms sounded.

Burn charged out of the cell and, to Rhewi’s considerable confusion, pawed at the lock on the Death Knight’s door. The Mage got the message. She endured the Blood Elf’s arrogant smirk as she blasted the lock to tiny bits. She reluctantly freed the Ghoul as well. The Death Knight was lacking his weapon, so the Ghoul was actually necessary for defense. At least it wasn’t going to run wild with its Master around.

The trio (plus Ghoul) ran for the exit, but before they reached the door it burst open as a group of armed and armored Humans piled in. The Azerothians froze in surprise. Burn roared and charged into the obstacle. The Humans had enough sense to realize that standing in front of a giant pissed-off bear was not a good idea. They dove to the side, leaving a path for Rhewi and ‘Ice to follow Burn. In the hallway were even more armed Humans. They looked to be a bit busy fending off two large white felines. The Death Knight smiled in glee as he joined the melee. Rhewi noticed that one of the cats had horns, and realized it must be a Tauren Druid in cat form. A friend of Burn’s, perhaps? Most Druids she knew did have an “help each other” policy. Was that why Burn had insisted on freeing the Death Knight? Because he knew the jerk was friends with a fellow Druid?

Rhewi shook her head to be rid of her many questions. There would be time for pondering “why” later. Right now, they had to get out of the building and away from the Humans as soon as possible. And Golaugost was still missing! She wasn’t looking forward to having to come back and find him. She turned her full attention to the fight before her and readied a spell.

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Golaugost eyed Thor carefully as he pondered his next move. Steve stood nearby watching as the two traded blows. Sparring had been the Asgardian’s idea originally, and once the meaning was conveyed Golau had been all too happy to accept the challenge. He liked these Humans partly because they seemed to be more than Human. They both could take blows that would seriously injure a typical member of their species and do so without even bruising. The Draenei enjoyed being able to indulge in some friendly hand-to-hand sparring without worrying about hurting his smaller opponent. So far he’d used the exercise to judge the character of the two men. They both seemed to be honorable warriors with good hearts. Golau would eat his shield if this judgment of their character proved false.

When the Humans had brought him in the night before, they had first started off in the same direction as the Death Knight. But Thor had noticed and stopped them. After some arguing and the arrival of a man in a dark suit, it seemed a decision had been made. Thor led Golau to a bland room with little furniture but very secure looking doors and windows. Steve had arrived shortly and the three had set about getting to know one another.

Communicating was a bit difficult for the three, but they managed well enough with gestures and facial expressions. Finding out each other’s names had been the easiest part. Trying to convey “let’s spar” without words was a bit more difficult. The Paladin was trying to memorize every word they said in hopes of eventually learning their language. He had many questions and no way to convey them. Where had they taken the Death Knight? Who were they? Had they seen any of his friends?

Golaugost especially wanted to know about his missing allies. Rhewi and Burn were most likely somewhere in the strange city. The Death Knight’s presence was proof enough that others from Azeroth had been transported here as well. Perhaps these Humans he’d befriended already knew something. Perhaps they’d be willing to help him find his friends.

The sudden blaring of sirens and flashing of lights startled all three into action. Golau recognized an alarm when he heard one. Thor and Steve both ran for the door. Having nothing better to do, the Draenei followed them. No one tried to stop him as he chased after the two warriors. Several flights of stairs later the trio found themselves in the midst of chaos. Golaugost recognized Burn and Rhewi amongst the combatants. While pleased to see them, he knew this wasn’t going to end well. His new friends couldn’t understand him, and most of the Humans would only see him as an enemy if he tried to help his allies. Then the Paladin’s eyes fell upon a figure in black armor. The Death Knight! He was free and fighting, but lacking his large sword. Golau’s blue eyes narrowed as he made his decision. He gave a great warcry as he charged into the melee, heading directly for that undead abomination.

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The alarm seemed louder than usual as the Black Widow raced towards the holding cells. Agent Natasha Romanoff was Not In The Mood For This Shit. She’d spent the entire day before helping track down and catalog all those strange energy anomalies. That was after they’d dealt with the insane scientist’s rampage. They still didn’t know where the man himself had disappeared to. Then last night she’d been awakened and put on standby in case Steve and Thor needed backup. At least they’d resolved that particular emergency without her. Natasha had no interest in fighting zombies. She’d rather be sleeping at that point.

Agent Romanoff rounded a corner and found herself in the midst of an all-out brawl that would be more at home in a bar than a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. Security personnel were futilely trying to overpower the strangest group of adversaries Natasha had ever seen. There was a purple bear, two white lions (one of which had horns), a zombie, an elf in black armor, a blue demon and a…

Natasha blinked. A werewolf. With everything else, the werewolf really should not have fazed her. But right there in the hallway was a brown-furred wolf-lady hurling fireballs and icicles from her fingertips. Beside the werewolf was a strange being that appeared to be made entirely of water. It, too, was hurling blasts of ice at its opponents.

The Black Widow took one deep breath before going to work. She leapt into the fray with grace and determination. A blow to the nose stunned the bear for a second, allowing Steve to get a good hold around its neck. The demon was fighting the elf (just as it had in the streets the night before) so she ignored those two. Thor seemed to have decided on taking out the lions. The felines were quite fast and managed to dodge the Asgardian’s swings, but they were so busy avoiding Mjölnir that they didn’t have time to attack. That left the werewolf.

The red-haired Agent managed to avoid being hit by a ball of flaming ice as she got in closer to the magic-wielding she-wolf. There was no time to wonder how ice could be on fire as Natasha blocked a blow from the clawed hand. The werewolf’s lips curled back in a snarl, revealing an impressive set of extremely sharp pearly-white teeth. One punch later and the canine creature yelped in pain as she was forced back. It seemed the werewolf wasn’t much of a melee fighter. Get in close enough to avoid the ice and fire and a single hit could knock her down. Especially when the one doing the hitting was wearing electric bracelets that delivered a shock on impact.

Natasha glanced up in time to see the horned lion back up against a wall. Suddenly, to her shock, it wasn’t a lion anymore. Where the cat had been there now stood a monster. It looked as if someone had combined a bear and an owl, then stuck the horns of a cow on its head. Tawny feathers covered the massive body. Hooked talons tipped each toe and finger. Fierce blue eyes glared out from an avian head. The creature let out a deep warcry that sounded like something between the roar of a lion and the shriek of a hawk. The red-haired Agent tensed her body in preparation for an attack.

Several SHIELD personnel rushed at the massive creature in a futile attempt to overpower it. The feathered arms were raised above its head before being slung forwards in a violent motion. Everyone in the hall in front of the beast was suddenly thrown backwards, including the other strangers. It seemed the fight was about to get bloody with this new addition.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!”

Everyone, owl-beast included, turned as one towards the irate screaming. Standing in the hallway, flanked by Agents Hill and Coulson, was Director Nick Fury. The one-eyed man had a thunderous look on his face as he gazed at the assorted pile of Agents and Enemies. No one dared move for fear of bringing the Director’s wrath upon themselves.

To Natasha’s surprise, the brown werewolf stood up and took a few cautious steps forward.

“We didn’t mean to start a fight. I was just looking for my friends. If you let me explain I’m sure we can resolve this without further violence.”

The werewolf actually looked nervous. She hissed something in an unknown language and the other strangers, presumably her friends, slowly raised their hands in a show of surrender. All except the elf in the black armor. He crossed his arms but didn’t make any hostile moves, unless you considered glaring at everyone to be hostile.

Director Fury gazed unblinking at the group as he considered his next move. Finally, he came to a decision.

“Alright. You get one chance to explain yourselves. One! You will take no action that can be considered hostile. Agent Coulson will lead you to a room where we can talk. I’ll join you shortly.”

The Director motioned for the motley group to get moving. They quietly followed Coulson down the hallway towards a conference room. Natasha decided she was going to be there for that meeting, one way or another. A glance at the nearest air vent showed that Hawkeye had a similar plan. The archer smiled at her from the safety of the ventilation shaft, then moved out of sight. Agent Romanoff gave one last look to the assorted SHIELD personnel in the hallway before heading after Coulson.

Chapter Text

Agent Coulson lead the strange group to an empty conference room. He couldn’t help but notice that they’d split into two distinct groups. The werewolf, demon and bear followed closely behind him, while the owl-beast, swordsman, zombie and lion lagged a little behind. Upon entering the meeting room this division was even more apparent as the two groups chose to sit at opposite sides of the large oval table. Phil remained standing near the door so as to better study the non-humans. The werewolf was in whispered conversation with her two friends. Every so often she darted a quick glance in his direction. The demon was relaxed as they chatted and never once looked towards the Agent. The bear seemed to be listening intently as the other two spoke. Any other day and Agent Coulson might consider that odd, but this was a giant purple bear wearing feathered armbands and an acorn necklace. Not your average woodland creature.

The other side of the table was silent. Phil was mildly amused to see the owl-beast staring in exasperation at the sulking swordsman. And sulking the black-clad figure indeed was with arms crossed, head down, and glaring fiercely at the table in front of him. The zombie stood quietly behind its master, seemingly unconcerned with anything happening around it. The white lion had curled up near the feet of the owl-beast and was calmly observing everyone with eyes that held far more intelligence than a typical beast.

The door opened only a few moments after the strange group had taken their seats. Agents Romanoff and Barton entered the room as if they belonged there. Phil didn’t comment. If Fury wanted them excluded from the meeting, he could tell them himself. Agent Coulson wondered how long it would be before the rest of the Avengers showed up. Sure enough, Captain Rogers and Thor arrived less than a minute later. The two exchanged nods of greeting with the blue demon. Phil wondered how long it would take Stark and Banner to arrive when his attention was suddenly drawn to the werewolf. She had started chanting and moving her hands in a strange manner. The demon motioned for everyone to stay calm. He didn’t appear alarmed by his companion’s actions. The Agent debated whether to interrupt or not. The blue-skinned creature had formed a sort of warrior’s bond with Captain Rogers and Thor. From what little Phil had seen, he figured it was unlikely that the demon would allow his companion to harm his new friends.

The spell glowed white-blue and spread to touch all of the non-humans sitting at the table. As it touched them the light dissipated, having seemingly done nothing. Had the spell failed?

“Did it work, Rhewi?”

Well…that explained what the spell was for. The blue demon had spoken perfect English when only moments before he’d had no understanding of the language. Phil was somewhat relieved to know that the language barrier was no longer a problem. It would help things progress much more quickly once the Director arrived.

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Tony Stark was so curious he could barely contain himself. The billionaire had been working alongside Dr. Banner analyzing the readings S.H.I.E.L.D. had taken of the numerous anomalies that had appeared across the city the previous day when alarms sounded. Not having the Iron Man suit on hand, Tony had been forced to remain with Bruce when the lights started flashing red. Whatever had happened ended relatively quickly, so the inventor told himself the excitement would’ve been over by the time he got there even if he had had his armor. Fury’s call instructing them to report to one of the conference rooms on the lower levels had been a surprise. Apparently there was going ot be a meeting of some sort and the Avengers were needed. Tony turned to Bruce as they walked.

“So what are the odds this surprise gathering has something to do with the alarm?”

“Pretty good, and you already knew that. Hopefully the meeting isn’t about anything too terrible. I’d rather not deal with any apocalyptic events today. We’re headed to the same floor as the cells where S.H.I.E.L.D. is holding the hostiles from yesterday.”

“It’s that floor? Oh, please don’t let that walking carpet have gotten out if its cage. I still haven’t gotten the dents out of my suit! Do you have any idea how strong that thing’s jaws have to be to do that sort of damage to my armor?”

“I have a pretty good idea, yes. And I doubt they’d let me down here if a giant bear was rampaging through the halls. The Other Guy would just make things worse.”

“Point. I still think Fury should’ve turned that best in a rug.”

Upon entering the designated meeting room, Tony stopped dead in his tracks. There was a large purple bear sitting at the table between a werewolf and the blue demon. The same bear he Did Not want to see. The creature sniffed the air in direction of the new arrivals. Its amber eyes widened and it galloped around the table towards the billionaire. Tony’s pulse skyrocketed as those powerful jaws parted, revealing the lavender tongue and sharp teeth within. Before anyone in the room had time to react, the fluffy monster had reached his goal. It stood up on its hind legs and wrapped the inventor in its muscular arms.

The billionaire let out a rather high-pitched scream as the furry forelimbs held him in a firm embrace. The muzzle full of sharp teeth moved towards Tony’s head. The man shut his eyes and braced himself for the inevitable pain of having his face mauled off. The sensation of a large wet tongue sliding across his cheek was the last thing he’d expected to feel. Tony opened his eyes in shock as he realized what had just happened. The giant bear was hugging him tight and licking his face as if it was an oversized dog! The inventor could only stare in disbelief as a warm rumble came from the beast’s chest; probably the closest it could manage to a purr.

“What the HELL?!”

Tony’s indignant exclamation shattered the tension that had built up in the room. The strangers burst into laughter, as did most of the Avengers. Agents Coulson and Romanoff settled for amused smirks. Tony glared at the room’s occupants.

“It’s not funny! I thought this walking rug was going to eat me! Bad Bear! Put the billionaire down. And stop licking me! Your breath smells like salmon.”

Surprisingly, the beast did partially obey the man’s demands. It stopped licking his face and loosened its hold slightly. Then it started shrinking. Tony watched in fascination as the bear turned into something a bit more human looking. The plum-colored fur melted away to reveal dark rose-pink skin. Paws became hands, claws became fingernails, and the ears became more backswept, although they were still about a foot long and pointed. The muzzle retracted into a face which now sported strong cheekbones and eyebrows that extended for at least twelve inches to either side. The softly glowing amber eyes were the only feature that remained unchanged. Tony blinked as he noted he was now being held by an over-seven-foot-tall man with neon green hair and the worst fashion sense he’d ever had the misfortune of seeing. The clothing consisted of a sort of harness across the chest and leather pants with many straps. Everything was in the most god-awful shade of eye-searing orange. The leather outfit clashed horribly with the pink skin, and guy was certainly showing a lot of skin. Tony looked up and met the gaze of those amber eyes.

“Okay, this just got incredibly awkward.”

“My apologies, Human. I recognized your scent from our altercation yesterday. I’m afraid I just couldn’t resist giving you a proper Bear Hug now that you’ve removed your armor.”

The not-bear smiled as Tony narrowed his eyes. The inventor opened his mouth for what was going to be a witty retort when he was interrupted by Fury’s sudden arrival.

“Stark! Stop trying to seduce that alien and sit down. The last thing I need to deal with today is some interspecies romance scandal.”

“Hey! I wasn’t-”

“I don’t care. We have a lot to discuss and my time is valuable.”

Fury motioned for those still standing to take their seats at the table. He’d brought Hill with him, and took the seat beside her for himself. His one-eyed gaze swept across those present as he began speaking.

“I am Director Nicholas Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D. That means I’m in charge. To my right is Agent Hill. Beside her is Agent Coulson. The rest of these people are collectively known as the Avengers. They are Agents Romanoff and Barton of S.H.I.E.L.D., Captain Rogers, Thor, Dr. Banner, and that clown is Mr. Stark. Now, I’m very interested to learn who you all are, and why and how you got here.”

The Director had pointed to each person as he gave their names. The werewolf took the lead and did the same as she introduced herself and her companions.

“Introductions first, then we’ll tell you what we can about how we came to be in your city. Our world is named Azeroth. My name is Rhewi. I’m a Worgen from Gilneas. The “demon” on my left is Golaugost. He’s a Draenei. They’re kind of touchy about being called Demons, by the way. The eyesore on my right is Burn. He’s Kaldorei, generally known as a Night Elf, from Teldrassil. We’re members of the Alliance; a faction which includes several different species, including Humans. Now I’ll let the others introduce themselves.”

Rhewi sat back in her chair as the owl-beast took over. The feathered creature stood up and...went up in a puff of smoke. Everyone blinked as they stared at something that looked suspiciously like a female minotaur. She stood nearly eight feet tall. Her body was covered in short white fur. Blue eyes gazed from a cow-like head topped with a pair of short (relatively speaking) yet sharp horns. She cleared her throat as she started speaking in a soothing voice.

“My name is Harvist, and I’m a Tauren from Mulgore. The lion is Choutaro. He is very special and quite intelligent. My sulky friend is called ‘Ice. He is Sindorei, or a Blood Elf. The Ghoul behind him is his pet. It’s a mindless abomination that will obey his every command. Do not be alarmed. The Ghoul obeys ‘Ice, but ‘Ice obeys me. Most of the time, anyway.”

Harvist paused to give her elven friend a pointed look. He responded with a sneer, but didn’t contradict her. The Tauren sat down, then continued speaking.

“We are members of the Horde. Traditionally, we are enemies of the Alliance. Given our present situation, it might be best to put those faction rivalries on hold until we’ve found a way to get back home. We were in Feralas, fighting a group of Twilight’s Hammer cultists. There was a bright flash, and then I woke up alone on a strange world. I’m not sure how we got here. Rhewi, you’re a Mage. Perhaps you know something?”

The Worgen cocked her head to the side and thought for a moment. She looked towards the Draenei, but he shook his head.

“Well…I think that Satyr the cultists were protecting was casting some kind of portal spell. But it went wrong. Without knowing exactly what spell he was trying to cast I’m afraid it’s going to be difficult to reverse whatever he did and get us back to Azeroth. Golau has experience with travelling between worlds, and he doesn’t have any useful ideas, either.”

Director Fury studied the Azerothians for a moment. His face gave away nothing of his thoughts about what the strangers had just told him. Tony could imagine what the man was thinking, though. The aliens were from another world and apparently had Magic. They had also admitted to being each other’s enemies. That could cause problems for the people of Earth if they decided to toss aside the truce and fight each other. People had already died, after all. At the same time, there was probably a lot that S.H.I.E.L.D. could learn from these strangers. The billionaire was very interested to see how Fury handled the situation.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. will do what it can to help get you back to your own world. For now, however, we need to figure out what to do with you until then. I can’t let any of you go running around the city. It would cause panic, as we’ve already witnessed. And while most of you haven’t intentionally caused trouble, one of you is responsible for the deaths of nearly two dozen people. I’m not about to let a murderer go free, regardless of what planet he’s from.”

Everyone turned to look at ‘Ice as the Director finished speaking. The Blood Elf’s face was a mask of stony indifference, but his posture had become rigid. The Ghoul seemed to sense its master’s discomfort and started fidgeting. Harvist opened her mouth to speak, but ‘Ice held up a hand to silence her. He sat up straighter and placed his hands on the table. His cold blue eyes met Fury’s gaze as he spoke in that disturbing echoing voice.

“I am a Death Knight. Do you know what that means, Human? No? I was once a warrior who fought to defend my people. When the Scourge came, much of my home was destroyed and many died. The undead hoards corrupted all they touched. The land has yet to recover. It was after this invasion that we became known as Blood Elves, in honor of our fallen. You cannot fathom the number of us who died only to be raised to fight for the enemy as mindless Ghouls. And I…I, too, was slain in that war. I died. But I didn’t become a Ghoul. Oh, no. I was raised into Undeath as something far worse.

“I am…was an elite warrior of the Scourge. I was a commander of the undead forces, gleefully slaughtering those I once called friend. And I was very good at killing. No pity, no hesitation, no remorse. And then something astonishing happened. I, along with many brothers and sisters of the Scourge, went into a battle on Holy Ground…and we lost. I regained my free will, my memory of what I had been in life. I was suddenly able to look back upon the atrocities I’d committed and feel a sense of horror at what I’d done. I awoke from the nightmare, regained control over myself, but I was still a monster. You see, Death Knights suffer a constant hunger for blood and pain. To resist leads to madness. And so I slake my thirst with the blood of enemies, for I have no desire to slaughter friends.

“I tell you this so that you can comprehend what I am and why I killed those people. I once again awoke from battle in a strange place, surrounded by those I considered my enemy. I took actions I considered necessary at the time. Humans are enemies of the Horde, Director. To me, those deaths were justified. And you’re wrong. I killed only half the number you mentioned. The rest were already dead. I merely reanimated them to serve my purpose. I can make you this one promise, Human. I promise not to ‘murder’ any more of your people unless absolutely necessary.”

Silence reigned as the Humans absorbed what the Blood Elf had revealed to them. The Azerothians were already familiar with Death Knights, but ‘Ice’s speech had still made them shiver slightly. The elf certainly had a knack for unsettling stories. Tony knew what it was like to suddenly realize that you were responsible for the deaths of people you’d meant to protect. His weapons had been sold to the enemy and used against his own side. But that was different from killing innocents with your own hands. Had ‘Ice personally killed anyone he’d considered a friend? Had he murdered a loved one during his time as a Scourge commander? Tony couldn’t imagine what it would be like to wake up one day only to discover he’d killed Pepper. He’s probably go insane with grief. Was ‘Ice insane?

“So it’s not just the Death Knights of the Alliance who are drama queens.”

All eyes were on Burn. The Blood Elf huffed, crossed his arms, and returned to his sulky pose as he glared at the Night Elf. The Tauren sighed.

“He might be a bit dramatic, but ‘Ice speaks the truth. His actions upon arriving in your world are regrettable, but understandable. It won’t happen again, Director Fury. I’m used to keeping him out of trouble. I’ll make sure he behaves.”

The Director eyed Harvist. It was obvious he didn’t fully believe she could keep her homicidal companion under control. At the same time, the aliens probably weren’t going to allow one of their own to be locked away in a cell. S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t have the facilities to keep the entire group securely imprisoned, so a compromise was needed. Fury spoke, choosing his words carefully.

“I’ll accept that such actions might be permissible on your world, but this is Earth. Murder is frowned upon here. I can’t allow your Death Knight to roam free after what he’s done. I’ll allow him the same freedom as the rest of you, however, so long as a capable S.H.I.E.L.D. agent is with him at all times. If he so much as sneezes in a threatening manner, he’s going straight back to his cell. Is that understood?”

“It’s…probably the best I could hope for. We accept those terms, Director.”

“Good. Now we have the issue of where to house you all until a method is found to return you to your own world. You can’t stay here. This facility isn’t equipped to deal with alien bears and owl-beasts. Stark, that tower of yours has space for our guests and also has the benefit of being a secure structure. I’m sure you won’t mind playing host.”

Tony stared at Fury in momentary annoyance. Where did that cyclops get off volunteering him to play baby sitter? Then the inventor realized that this could play out in his favor. He’d have the aliens available at any time to answer whatever questions popped into his head. There was so much to learn from the strangers! Like how it was possible for a purple bear to turn into a pink elf. He so owed that Night Elf for the “bear hug” earlier. Revenge would be much easier if they were staying in his tower. Tony smiled mischievously as he faced the Azerothians.

“Have you guys ever had shawarma?”

Chapter Text

Shishido eyed the massive structure warily from her perch atop a nearby roof. The building towered above its neighbors, shining brightly in the golden rays of the setting sun. The Hunter huffed in annoyance. She needed to get inside the monolith without being noticed. ‘Shido had broken off the spell that allowed her to see through her lion’s eyes shortly after the group of Azerothians had been escorted to black metal vehicles. The Troll had left Choutaro instructions to stay with Harvist, then followed her friends as they were taken to the sleek tower.

The Troll stood and stretched her lithe body in the fading light. It was now dark enough for her to begin infiltrating the structure. ‘Shido ran, hopping from roof to roof until she was facing the exterior wall of the tower. With a flying leap the Hunter tackled the side of the building, quickly securing a hand-hold on a window ledge. Her long limbs were ideal for climbing and she moved much faster than was possible for a Human. The Troll made good time scrambling up the outside of the structure.

It was full dark by the time ‘Shido neared the top and found the proper balcony. She smiled at the sight of a large tawny feather lying just inside the glass door. Trust Harvist to leave a clue letting her know which floor the other Azerothians had been taken to. Now ‘Shido just needed to get inside without alerting the locals. It wouldn’t do to be spotted before she’d had a chance to reunite with her friends.

The Hunter was somewhat surprised to find the door unlocked. Now, granted, this high up the chances of a break-in were pretty slim, but still. Maybe Harvist had made sure it was open for her. Or maybe these Humans honestly didn’t think anyone could get up here without being noticed. Either way, ‘Shido was able to soundlessly open the glass door and slip inside. She crept cautiously through the room, eyes and ears alert for danger. The room was brightly lit but apparently deserted. The Troll looked around carefully for any sign of which direction she might find her friends.

A soft scraping noise caught ‘Shido’s attention. It was almost undetectable, but her hearing was quite keen. Something else was nearby. She tried to act as if she’d heard nothing while she scanned the room. There! A metal grate high on the wall, presumably for ventilation if she recalled those Gnomish dwellings correctly. That would make a good hiding spot for someone small enough. Carefully, the Troll moved closer to the vent without giving away that she suspected anything odd. As she came within a few yards of it, the metal grate suddenly flew off the wall, followed immediately by an arrow. ‘Shido jumped out of the way with reflexes that would make a cat jealous. She reached for her own bow and nocked an arrow as her eyes sought the enemy.

A male Human dropped out of the ventilation shaft holding a bow, a second arrow already flying towards the Troll. ‘Shido only barely missed being seriously injured this time. The arrow sank into her left shoulder. Had she been any slower to dodge, it would have hit a more vital location. The Troll cursed in her native tongue and her own arrow flew wild. She missed the Human, of course, but it was enough to make him dive for cover behind a plush chair. ‘Shido did the same, crouching behind a large sofa. She’d recognized the Human from that meeting earlier. He was one of the Avengers they’d been introduced to. It would be a bad idea to hurt him, but the archer might not give her a choice in the matter. She certainly wasn’t going to just let him shoot her full of arrows.

“I know who you are, Human! I be no threat to ya.”

The man’s replying shout made no sense. ‘Shido blinked, then cursed again as she realized that the Mage’s translation spell hadn’t travelled through her link with ‘Taro. She broke the shaft of the arrow that was protruding from her shoulder. Anything further to treat her wound would have to wait. She could still use the limb, at least. Peering over the back of the sofa, the Hunter nocked and arrow and aimed for the Human. He released his own arrow a split second after she’d fired her own. The two arrows soared through the air only the shatter and fly off-course as they met midair. ‘Shido blinked. The Human, too, appeared to be just as surprised. Their eyes met and they just stared at one another in mutual shock.

“What in the name of Malorne is going on in here?!”

‘Shido jumped and nocked another arrow, turning towards the intruder. It was the man who’d suffered a “bear hug” at the meeting. She vaguely remembered someone mentioning armor, which he was not wearing. What kind of suicidal idiot would burst into a combat situation without so much as the minimum of protective gear? But while he’d shouted first, the words she’s understood had come from the figure standing beside him.

“Harvist! I just be joining da party, and dis fella come burstin’ outta da wall. Can’t understand a word he be sayin’, but those arrows speak loud enough by demselves.”

The Tauren sighed, then explained to the Humans that ‘Shido was a friend who hadn’t meant any harm. She’d only been trying to rejoin the group, and yes, Harvist probably should have mentioned that she would show up. Warning the resident Humans might have prevented ‘Shido’s injury, but the Troll had to admit to herself that the brief exchange of arrows had been slightly fun. Her shoulder would be good as new soon enough, so no real harm done, right?

“I’ll take you to the Worgen Mage and see if she can cast that translation spell. It’s going to get old fast if I have to constantly translate for you. I also need to take a look at that shoulder wound. I know you heal fast, but I’m still going to do what I can for you.”

Harvist dragged ‘Shido out of the room as the two Humans began shouting at each other. The way the Druid rolled her eyes spoke volumes about what was being said. It was the same eye-roll Harvist did when ‘Ice was being especially childish. The Troll grinned as she followed her friend down the hall. New world, same personality types. Perhaps these Humans weren’t as alien as she’d thought.

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“I swear, she came in through the balcony door. The unlocked balcony door, I might mention. Aren’t you supposed to have the best security there is in this place?”

“My security is amazing! I kne-”

“It obviously isn’t amazing enough if random monsters can just walk in through an open door! Seriously, Stark, I’d think you’d have automatic locks in a place like this.”

The shouting match between Tony Stark and Clint Barton had been going on for a full five minutes before Natasha decided to make an appearance. She didn’t say a word; just walked into the room in full view of both men and stood there silently staring at them. They soon quieted under her frigid gaze.

“Would one of you like to tell me what happened? Clint?”

“I was in the vent-”

“HOW do you keep getting in there?!”

“Shut it, Stark. So I was in the vent shaft when I thought I heard the balcony door open. I knew for a fact no one was out there, so I looked. That…creature was sneaking around the room. I figured she was up to no good, so I confronted her. Turns out, she’s not a bad shot with a bow.”

Clint motioned towards the remains of the two arrows that still lay on the floor. Natasha raised an eyebrow.

“I assume this “creature” has been dealt with?”

“Yeah, turns out she’s one of Harvist’s friends. I have been assured that there will be no more surprise guests. At least, not from her group.”

Natasha nodded and turned her attention from Clint to Tony. The billionaire didn’t seem to have anything to add to Clint’s account of what happened. Well, nothing aside from the usual complaints about how people didn’t belong in the vent shafts. Those two seemed to have some sort of contest going; Tony would try to secure the vents, and Clint would break into them. So far, Agent Barton was in the lead. Natasha suspected things might be different if Stark really wanted Clint out of the vents. She eyed the balcony door a moment before turning to leave.

“Stark, there’s a hole in your security. Fix it.”

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Morning dawned to find the tower’s inhabitants in less than cheerful spirits. Shishido’s arrival had been reported to S.H.I.E.L.D. and the rest of the Avengers. The white lion had been overjoyed to see his master, but the rest of the Azerothians had not seemed overly thrilled. Harvist was the exception. ‘Ice, who was supposedly the Troll’s friend as well, just glared. The Humans were coming to realize that the sour expression was perfectly normal for the Death Knight.

Breakfast was attended by all the Azerothians and most of the Avengers. Harvist shocked the Humans when she helped herself to a large portion of bacon.

“Just because I look like a cow doesn’t mean I eat like one.”

The conversation turned towards favorite foods. ‘Shido’s comments about the taste of Human as compared to Elf had even the Azerothians looking a little green. Apparently Trolls weren’t picky eaters. Both Burn and ‘Ice found excuses to move further away after that. Thor began telling stories of some of the foes he’d faced who’d had strange eating habits. Breakfast ended shortly thereafter.

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Tony blinked.

Nope. Still there.

Two tiny green eyes glowed softly in the dim light of the crawlspace. The billionaire had skipped breakfast in favor of continuing his work on the security system. Locked door or not, JARVIS should have informed him the instant someone unauthorized entered the tower. It had taken hours to find the fault in the system. Something had chewed through the wires that interfaced with the balcony door. Tony suspected he’d just found the responsible party.

The green-eyed saboteur was about sixteen inches long, including the tail. Its body was silver with red and gold. It sat up on its hind legs and chittered. Tony decided that if the thing was going to attack, it would have done so already. He reached in and grabbed the small metal robot. It wriggled in his grasp, but lacked the strength to break free. The man then carried it with him to the common lounging area. Luck seemed to be with him, because most of his guests and fellow Avengers were in the room. He made sure to hide his prize behind his back as he entered.

“Hey, guys! I found out why the alarm didn’t go off last night.”

“You forgot to lock the door?”

Tony’s eyes narrowed as he met Bruce’s gaze.

“Et tu, Brute?* No. No, the reason turned out to be a lot more interesting.”

Tony brought his hands in front of him, raising the struggling metal creature for all to see.

“A squirrel chewed through the wires!”

The looks on the faces of those in the room varied from incredulous, to exasperated, to giddy relief. The latter expression graced the face of the Night Elf. Burn jumped out of his chair with a joyful shout.

“Pedro! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

The incredulous looks were now turned towards the Druid, who had rushed over to Tony and plucked the mechanical squirrel out of his hands. Tony couldn’t decide if the sight of a seven foot elf cuddling a metal rodent was cute or creepy.

“Thanks for finding him. Sorry he broke your security system. He’s always liked to chew on wires. Never could break him of the habit.”

“Uh…yeah. Hey, where’d you get him, anyway? Actually, how’d you get him into my tower without anyone noticing? You aren’t exactly wearing a lot of clothes to hide him in. You don’t even have pockets!”

Burn looked down at his clothing, which Tony still thought was the worst eyesore of an outfit ever to be worn, then back up at the billionaire. The metal squirrel chirped and scurried up an arm to perch on Burn’s shoulder.

“I built Pedro years ago. He was an early project. Mechanical Squirrels are one of the first things Engineers learn to craft.”

“Wait. You’re an Engineer?”

Tony’s smile spread slowly across his face as he let that fact sink in. An Engineer from another planet! Who apparently made robotic squirrels with a taste for copper wiring. But still!

“My friend, I think we have much to discuss.”

For once, Harvist wasn’t the only person in the room to groan and hide her face in her hands. The Avengers and Azerothians alike were suddenly slightly afraid of what Burn and Tony might do with their newly discovered common interest. Rhewi especially felt a twinge of fear as she considered what her elven friend might create with the Human’s assistance. The exploding sheep had been bad enough.

Chapter Text

Dr. Harvey Deacon had never expected to find himself in his current situation. It was crazy, really. Completely unbelievable outside science-fiction novels. The Scientist had just wanted to get back at those who’d mocked and belittled him. He’d wanted to prove his research was just as valid as theirs. He’d wanted to silence the scientific snobbery. He’d ended up creating something amazing, even if it hadn’t been meant to open trans-dimensional portals.

Now he was trying to recreate that unintentional ‘success’ with the aid of his new allies. “Ally” wasn’t exactly the right term, though. After he and the horned individual had escaped from the authorities, it had become clear that the creature saw humans as inferior beings. The Satyr, as the horned one called his species, had a power that could only be described as Magic. He’d done…something…that resulted in a floating orb of green light hovering in the middle of the workshop.

The Scientist had noted how the green light made his new “friend” look rather demonic. Foulhorn the Satyr wasn’t quite like the creatures of mythology Harvey was familiar with. No, this being was more menacing in appearance. His torso and upper arms were bare, revealing his blue-violet skin. Tufts of coarse dark burgundy fur grew on his shoulders and forearms, and covered his goat-like legs. The cloven hooves were much larger than the Scientist thought they should be; each was easily the size of the Satyr’s head. The lion-like tail seemed out of place, but the pair of long backswept goat horns sprouting from Foulhorn’s head certainly fit with the rest of him. His hairless ears were very long and pointed, like an elf from a fantasy movie. He had long, shaggy hair, thick eyebrows over pale yellow eyes, and a long, shaggy beard. His large hands possessed an impressive set of sharp black claws. Dr. Deacon had no doubt that the Satyr could kill him with little effort should he choose to do so.

Harvey worked on recreating the invention that had malfunctioned and brought Foulhorn to him. The Satyr said he had friends who could help Harvey attain the fame he deserved, but the Scientist was to follow orders without question. The Satyr didn’t say whether his ‘friends’ were already in the city, or if they’d need the portal machine to bring them to Earth. As it turned out, he didn’t need to say anything. By that evening they had guests.

The first to arrive was a human-looking man wearing a dark robe with the hood pulled up, hiding his face. He tersely introduced himself as Eadric, but said nothing further. He was accompanied by a strange creature that looked as if it had stepped out of someone’s nightmare of Hell. The reddish-brown and black beast had four legs ending in a “foot” composed of a single large claw. Two sharp forward-facing “horns” protruded from the shoulders. Just behind the “horns” were two tentacle-like appendages tipped with some kind of suction cup. The worst was the head, though. It had no visible eyes, nose, or ears. The long snout contained a set of impressive jaws lined with exceptionally sharp teeth. The monster acted like an aggressive but well-trained dog. It obeyed its master despite obviously wanting to rip the Scientist to bits.

The next “guest” to arrive was the strangest looking of the lot. Aelinsa was a snake-woman; a Naga, she’d called herself. Her body was humanoid from the waist up, and had the tail of a snake instead of legs. A spiny, fish-like yellow fin formed a sort of crown around her head, then travelled down her spine, gradually getting smaller ‘til it ended partway down the tail. She was covered in pale green scales with a yellow underbelly. She had four arms and her hands were webbed with sharp claws tipping the fingers. Her face might have been called beautiful if she were human. As it was, the golden eyes and blue-green lips of the woman’s pale green face made for a rather grotesque sight.

The Scientist had thought that perhaps the new arrivals would treat him a bit better than Foulhorn the Satyr treated him. His hopes had been dashed rather quickly. The Naga treated the Satyr as a respected equal, but held herself above the human Warlock. The Scientist had quickly learned that he was at the bottom of the group hierarchy. He didn’t like being so powerless. It reminded him of how his former colleagues had treated him. Still, these aliens at least appreciated his inventions. They were genuinely interested in his knowledge and encouraged him to continue when everyone else had always laughed and told him to give up.

So what if he’d essentially sold his soul? He had allies now. He’d surely show everyone how brilliant he was with such powerful beings supporting him. Right?

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Nick Fury sat in his office, alone. His thoughts turned towards the Azerothians. It was probably safe to take the Death Knight at face value. He was a murderer; a killing machine that cared nothing for human lives. The threat he posed was obvious. But the others…as friendly as they seemed, it would be foolish not to have plans in place to handle the situation should they turn hostile. Fury wasn’t a fool. He wanted to know exactly what each of the strangers was capable of. He’d already seen magic, shape-shifting, necromancy, superior physical strength and elite fighting skills. It would be laughably easy for just one of the aliens to cause serious problems if they had a mind to. Hell, he’d already seen that with the Death Knight. Fury stood and quickly marched out of his office. He needed to visit the Tower.

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The Director stepped out of the elevator and quickly assessed the room’s inhabitants. It appeared that the Avengers and Azerothians were getting along better than expected. Barton and the Troll were playing some FPS video game on Stark’s giant television. Rogers, Thor and the Draenei were sitting at the table having an animated conversation as they ate. Romanoff and the Blood Elf were leaning on the bar looking at a weapons catalog and discussing the pros and cons of various knives. The Worgen, Tauren and Dr. Banner were sitting on the large sofa deep in quiet conversation. There was no sign of Stark of the Night Elf. Fury spared a second to wonder if he should be worried before dismissing the thought and striding purposefully towards his targets. Dr. Banner looked up as Fury came to a stop in front of the sofa.

“Is there something you needed, Director?”

“Yes. I need to have a word with the leaders of each ‘Faction’ group. If the two of you would come with me, we’ll move to somewhere more private.”

The Tauren raised an eyebrow but stood up from the couch. Fury turned his expectant gaze to the Worgen. She looked confused for a moment before the look changed to realization.

“I’m actually not the Leader. Burn is.”

An incredulous look crossed the Director’s face as he visualized the Elf in the orange bondage gear leading people into battle. It wasn’t a very believable mental image. The Mage almost seemed to read his mind for her eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Scary thought, isn’t it? The way he dresses and carries on like an idiot, you’d never believe him to be any sort of leader. But when you’re neck-deep in battle and surrounded by enemies, Burn is the person you want by your side. He’s saved my hide more times than I can count. He earned that “Leader” position. If he wants to behave ridiculously off the battlefield, well…it’s embarrassing for the rest of us, but we still respect him.”

Fury was somewhat taken aback at the Worgen’s speech. Rhewi obviously felt strongly about her friend. The Director made a mental note to reconsider his initial assessment of the Night Elf. He’d thought of Burn as a fuzzier version of the Hulk; a harmless Elf that turned into an angry bear when threatened. But if Rhewi’s words were true, it meant the bear wasn’t a mindless animal after all. People didn’t follow you in battle unless you were fully capable of making smart decisions. Fury didn’t usually underestimate a threat. His job and his personality made him somewhat paranoid. If he’d allowed himself to be fooled by a goofy smile and horrible fashion sense, what else had he missed about these strangers? It was a disturbing realization.

“I’ll talk with Burn later. Harvist, if you’ll follow me we’ll have that chat.”

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Agent Barton waited about seven minutes before making his excuses and leaving the room to follow Fury and Harvist. JARVIS provided the location, and in no time Clint was stealthily crawling through the air ducts. He came to a stop just shy of the grate where he could hear every word spoken, but couldn’t be seen from below. It wouldn’t do to risk someone looking up and noticing him hiding the vent shaft.

The soft but distinct sound of something moving through the vents startled the agent. He looked up and met the gaze of a pair of orange eyes. Although there wasn’t much light in the air ducts, he could make out the distinct form of a large white fox. The animal opened its mouth in what Clint swore was a grin of amusement. With an undeniably mischievous look in its eyes, the creature turned its attention to the voices coming from the room below.

Clint narrowed his eyes at the animal. Since it was impossible for a wild fox to gain entry into the Tower, he assumed this animal was somehow connected to the Troll Hunter. He’d noticed that ‘Shido had a preference for white animals. With a shake of his head, Clint returned to listening to the meeting between the Director and the Druid.

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Harvist followed Director Fury into the elevator. They went down a few floors before exiting onto what looked like a physical recreation area. There were punching bags and cushioned mats along with a lot of odd equipment the Tauren assumed were not actually the torture devices they appeared to be. Most of the humans didn’t seem like the type to use that of thing; especially not so close to where they slept. Fury led Harvist to a secluded corner of the room before turning to address her.

“I won’t beat about the bush. I need to know more about your people. I need to know how you plan to control that homicidal friend of yours in case he goes on another killing spree. And I very much want to know if it’s possible any more individuals from your world will show up. We haven’t detected any strange energy signatures today, but that doesn’t mean more of you lot aren’t already roaming the city.”

Harvist titled her head slightly and narrowed her eyes. Fury didn’t strike her as the type to be so blunt about gathering information. She’d dealt with enough Rogues to know their sort; they never revealed more than they had to, and there was almost always more to what they wanted than what they came out and asked for. You really had to watch Rogues, especially if they seemed to be trying to be “honest” with you.

“You want to know how best to kill with us should we prove a problem, don’t you, Director?”

Fury’s face remained unchanged at Harvist’s words. He didn’t need to respond, though. The Tauren knew she was right.

“I appreciate your frankness. I’m sure you aren’t this direct with every stranger you encounter. To be honest, your Avengers seem fully capable of dealing with any one of my companions. It wouldn’t be easy, but we aren’t unstoppable. None from my world have plans to conquer yours. We mainly just want to find a way to get home. I expect you’ll keep a close watch on us, but so long as you make no attempt to harm my friends or myself, we will have no reason to harm you or yours.

“As for ‘Ice…well, he won’t be going on anymore rampages. I know that you see him as a murderer. On our world the tensions between Horde and Alliance run very high. The killing of a handful of humans is not unusual. For some, it’s a perfectly acceptable activity. Our worlds are Very Different, Director. ‘Ice now knows killing humans is not allowed here. His need to kill has been sated for a while. He’ll behave himself.”

The Director studied Harvist intently with his good eye. The Druid couldn’t tell if he believed her; the man had one hell of a poker face. After a long moment, he spoke.

“And what are the chances of anyone else from your showing up?”

“I can’t speak for the Alliance, but my group are all accounted for. If anyone else from Azeroth turns up, they are no friend of mine.”

“Two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were brutally murdered yesterday. One looked like he’d been hit by some kind of fireball; the other had been torn apart. Does that sound like anyone you know?”

Harvist’s eye widened slightly in surprise. The Worgen Mage came to mind immediately. Rhewi would certainly have the ability to rip a human limb-from-limb, and fire spells were certainly easy enough for one of her abilities to manage. But then, Druids could also cause such damage. She knew Fury was suspicious of ‘Ice, but the Death Knight was actually the least likely to have killed those agents. She met Fury’s one-eyed gaze with a look of determination.

“If you suspect ‘Ice of killing your people, you’re wrong.”

“I wasn’t accu-“

“Death Knights tend to not like fire. They almost always use a sword or axe in battle. If you’re right about a fireball attack, that means Magic. I know I haven’t killed anyone since waking up here. The Alliance group, while capable of the deed, don’t strike me as an overly violent bunch. I can’t imagine any of them slaughtering people without a really good reason.”

“So you don’t know anything about who or what killed my agents?”

The Tauren considered what else might be able to rip a human to pieces and use fire attacks. She was absolutely certain that neither her friends or the Alliance members had done such a thing. But if not them, who? Suddenly, Harvist realized the answer.

“It’s possible that one of the Twilight’s Hammer was brought here. We were fighting them in close quarters before that spell knocked us out. Most of the cultists were dead, but a few were still alive and putting up an impressive defense. I can’t say for sure, but the more I think about it, the more likely it seems that a member of Twilight’s Hammer was transported to your world, too.”

Directory Fury did not look happy at hearing this news. But then, the man hadn’t looked happy at any point since Harvist had met him.

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These aliens were crazy, Dr. Deacon realized. Their little group was holding a meeting to discuss goals and form a plan of action. It was almost like a real business meeting, except the “goals” being discussed seemed to consist of either conquering or destroying the world. What sort of crazy doomsday cult had he gotten involved with?! These “people” honestly didn’t care if they died so long as every other living thing died with them! Unfortunately for Harvey, it was too late to back out of the arrangement with Foulhorn. If he didn’t go along with the crazy aliens, he’d be killed. Eventually.

“Perhaps we should start smaller? Maybe focus on strengthening our position here and then work on taking over the world one city at a time? I don’t know how things are on your world, but Earth will take more than just us four to truly conquer it. Even if the population is only human, there are a lot of people out there.”

And now everyone was staring at him. The she-snake, Aelinsa, curled her lip in a sneer as if disgusted that a mere mortal male would dare speak in her presence. Eadric just glared. But then, the Warlock hadn’t stopped glaring since he arrived, so Harvey decided not to take it personally. Foulhorn, however, actually seemed to consider Harvey’s words. The Satyr spoke after a few moments.

“You might have a point. The plans we had for Azeroth were grand indeed, but they counted on all the Twilight’s Hammer working towards our common goal. We are now only three, and on a world very different from our own. Yes, we shall gather strength in secret, little Scientist. And when ready, this city shall fall. Once we’ve fortified the perimeter properly, no enemy will be able to get through our defenses. This world is woefully without magic and thus defenseless. We shall crush these ignorant humans underhoof!”

Dr. Harvey Deacon cheered along with the others as Foulhoof finished speaking. He still had some doubts about the situation, but there was nowhere to go but forward.

Chapter Text

Burn watched intently as Tony soldered the last wire in place. It would only be another few moments until they could fully activate their invention. Well, it wasn’t really an “invention” so much as an improvement on one of Burn’s favorite projects. Oh, the others were going to be so surprised when they saw it! The Night Elf grinned in anticipation as Stark secured the outer casing and hit the “On” switch.

“It’s Alive!”

Tony followed up his sudden exclamation with mad laughter. Startled, Burn jumped slightly and turned towards the human. Before anything could be said, however, two tiny green eyes lit up with a soft glow. The red and gold mechanical Squirrel was online and on the move. The two engineers watched as the small metal creature explored the worktable.

Pedro, Burn’s own pet Mechanical Squirrel, hopped off the Druid’s shoulder and approached the new creation. The two squirrels examined one another for a moment before Pedro smacked the newcomer on the nose and started running. The pair then rook turns chasing one another over the worktable, across Burn’s shoulders, and down Tony’s leg. The human inventor seemed pleased, and opened his mouth to say as much.

“I think the new squirrel turned out perfectly.”

Burn watched the squirrels race around the base of one of Tony’s helper robots as he replied.

“It hasn’t exploded yet, so that’s good.”

Stark raised an eyebrow at the Night Elf’s statement.

“Do your creations do that often? ‘Cause I’d really rather not have an exploding squirrel in my lab. Actually, no, I take it back. Exploding squirrels are great so long as it doesn’t blow up near me. We should program it to climb up Fury’s leg!”

“You’re not putting anything up Director Fury’s leg, Tony. Do I even want ot know what you’re doing down here?”

The two engineers spun around to face the newcomer. Burn noted the red-haired woman in the business suit was attractive for a human. She had a look of fond exasperation on her face as she looked at Stark.

“Pepper! You’re back early. Beat the Board members into submission faster than usual? J.A.R.V.I.S! Why didn’t you tell me Pepper was back? Wait. Never mind. The two of you probably have a conspiracy to keep me out of the loop so you can sneak into my lab and catch me working on super secret projects.”

The woman, Pepper, gave a little sigh that was equal parts annoyance and affection. J.A.R.V.I.S, whom Burn had learned as an Artificial Intelligence, remained silent. The Druid couldn’t tell how serious Tony was about a conspiracy, but decided that such comments much be normal since Pepper was ignoring it. Before anyone could speak further, the newest mechanical squirrel suddenly ran up Pepper’s suit leg. The woman let out a startled shriek as she kicked the tiny robot away. Once airborne the squirrel gave a squeak of alarm and activated its repulsors. Everyone looked up as the red and gold squirrel zipped about above their heads.

“Ha! I knew it would work!”

Tony grinned smugly at Burn. The two had bet on whether Mechanical Squirrels could be made to fly. Burn hadn’t thought the Earth technology compatible, but Tony had insisted that he could build anything. The Druid smiled good-naturedly, admitting defeat. Pepper, on the other hand, did not look particularly impressed.

“You made a flying robot squirrel? Of course you did. It’s not like there are other, more important projects that need your attention.”

“This project is VERY important! It’s the first joint effort between Earth and Azeroth. We’re making history! Besides, it was Burn’s idea. Oh! Introductions. Right. Pepper, this is Burn. He’s a Night Elf from another planet. Burn, this is Pepper Potts. She’s the amazing person who runs my company and tries to keep me from doing anything too idiotic in public.

Burn bowed to Pepper as Tony introduced them. The woman smiled politely and offered her hand. After a brief pause the Night Elf took the offered hand in his own and lightly kissed the back as he’d seen humans do before. Pepper blushed faintly but seemed pleased. Now it was Tony’s turn to look unamused.

“Hey! That’s my girlfriend you’re kissing!”

“Oh, leave him alone, Tony. He’s just being a gentleman; something you could stand to do more often.”

Tony muttered unintelligibly as Burn studied Pepper. Something struck him as odd about her reaction to him.

“Pardon my mentioning it, but you don’t seem very surprised at encountering someone from another world.”

“Well, you’re not the first alien I’ve met. Thor is from Asgard, after all. Plus Phil filled me in about you when I got here. Honestly, Tony, you should have called and told me about our alien guests before I came home to find a werewolf in the kitchen.”

Burn blinked as he considered how Pepper must’ve felt seeing a Worgen for the first time. He couldn’t blame her for being annoyed at Tony. Stark had adopted a sheepish grin, obviously realizing that he had indeed erred.

“Right. Yes. J.A.R.V.I.S, remind me to tell Pepper next time uninvited aliens drop in for a visit.”

“So noted, Sir.”

Pepper rolled her eyes, gave Tony a brief kiss on the cheek, and turned to leave.

“I need t unpack. Finish playing with your flying squirrel and come upstairs. It’s almost dinner time and everyone’s eating together in the main room tonight.”

The human inventor watched his mate leave, then began chasing his flying creation in an attempt to catch it. Burn placed Pedro on his shoulder and stared tidying up the worktable. He gave up fairly quickly when one of Tony’s helper bots joined him. The machine, while trying to help, was only making a bigger mess. So Burn shifted into his Stormcrow form and flew after Tony’s squirrel. In less than a minute the mechanical creature was clasped firmly in his talons. The human stared, seemingly impressed. The Druid landed and released the squirrel into Tony’s waiting hands.

“Okay, that was pretty cool watching a giant purple bird chase down a flying metal squirrel in my lab. Bonus points ‘cause you’re huge and I’m impressed you even got airborne in here. And…wait. You still have elf ears! A giant purple raven with elf ears…”

Burn looked up at Stark and chirped. In Stormcrow form, he came to just above the inventor’s waist. Not that large by Azerothian standards, but it seemed the birds of Earth were smaller than he was used to. The Druid shifted back to elf form and was once again looking down at the human. Just then, J.A.R.V.I.S. addressed them.

“Sir, your presence is requested in the main dining area. Agent Romanoff has asked me to inform you that no one is eating until everyone is present, and that she is quite hungry.”

“Well then, we’d better get up there.”

The two Engineers, each with a mechanical squirrel on their shoulder, headed out of the lab and into the elevator. Even Burn had figured out that Natasha Romanoff was one individual you did not keep waiting.

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Steve counted the plates as Bruce and Rhewi set the food out on the counter buffet-style. The team had decided on pizza and since this was going to be their guests’ first taste of Earth food they’d gotten a variety if toppings. There was all-meat pizza, vegetarian pizza, plain cheese, Hawaiian, pepperoni, and an assortment of other more “exotic” topping combinations. The idea was that the Azerothians would find at least one pizza they liked. Steve was pretty sure that Rhewi at least would enjoy the meat pizzas. The Worgen’s nose hadn’t stopped sniffing the air since the boxes had been delivered.

“Can we eat yet? Some of these smell delicious and I’m dying to find out if they taste as good as they smell.”

The Captain gave Rhewi a small smile as he opened his mouth to reply. Natasha chose that moment to enter the room, answering the Mage as she approached.

“We’ll eat as soon as everyone gets here. Pepper went to drag Stark out of his workshop. By the time she gets back the others will have arrived. J.A.R.V.I.S. is informing everyone that dinner’s ready.”

The Worgen grumbled in response, her eyes never leaving the nearest meat-lovers pizza. Steve checked the table one last time as he set down a bowl of salad. He looked around a few minutes later and realized that everyone was present except Tony, Pepper, and Burn. Just as he was going to suggest they go ahead and start eating, Pepper walked in.

“Tony and his new best friend will be up in a minute. We may as well start fixing our plates now.”

Steve raised his eyebrow at the “new best friend” comment. He was almost afraid to imagine whatever scenario Pepper had witnessed in the workshop. At least it sounded like the two Engineers were getting along. The Captain shook his head and turned his attention to the pizzas. Rhewi had claimed an entire meat-lovers with extra cheese for herself, and was already munching on her second slice. The Avengers each snagged slices of their favorites as the rest of the Azerothians inspected each pizza, asking about certain toppings they didn’t recognize. Clint ended up explaining all about pizza to the aliens. Steve stared, bemused, as the Archer explained what pepperoni was. Apparently they didn’t have pizza on Azeroth.

“We have arrived! Hey, don’t you guys know it’s rude to start eating before everyone’s present?”

Everyone looked up as Tony and Burn walked into the room. Each had metal red-and-gold squirrels sitting on their shoulders. Steve remembered Burn’s squirrel, Pedro, so it was probably safe to assume that the two had spent their time together building Tony his very own mechanical pet. And, knowing Stark, it was probably a lot more dangerous than the original. Steve’s theory was proven correct when Tony’s squirrel suddenly took to the air and started circling above the table.

“Did you seriously put tiny repulsors into that metal tree rat? Should I worry about lazers for eyes? Will it explode if I shoot it?”

“Don’t you dare shoot that squirrel! He’s the first joint venture between Earth and Azeroth, and you will NOT damage him, Katniss.”

The flying squirrel landed on Tony’s shoulder as he snagged a few slices of pizza and sat down at the table beside Pepper. Burn joined his fellow Azerothians in listening to Clint’s “Pizza 101” lesson. In the end, Shishido took one slice of every pizza with meat on it, Golaugost chose several slices of the veggie varieties, and Burn settled on a slice of the mushroom, spinach and bacon pizza. Harvist, to the surprise of the Avengers, selected the Hawaiian pizza. The humans eyed her with raised eyebrows. Bruce was the first to say what they were all thinking.

“Um…that pizza has ham on it.”

“Yes.”

“Well…ham is from pigs. It’s meat.”

Harvist very deliberately took another large bite of her pizza. She chewed with exaggerated jaw movements, her unblinking gaze never wavering as she starred at Dr. Banner. The humans were quick to get the message that although the Tauren looked like a cow, she obviously did not eat like one. The subject was quickly dropped.

“So, Burn…looks like you had fun with Tony in the workshop. Was it difficult to adapt your design for Earth materials?”

There was a slight pause as the Druid swallowed a bite of pizza. Tony would have answered for him, but Pepper elbowed her boyfriend to keep him quiet. Everyone wanted to hear what their guest had to say; not another self-congratulatory monologue from their favorite billionaire genius.

“It wasn’t too difficult, actually. Most of the materials needed are found on your world. I suppose we can consider copper a universal mineral. The malachite was a bit tricky. Apparently there’s a minor difference between Azerothian malachite and Earth malachite, but we made it work with minimal explosions. The main problem was incorporating Tony’s repulsor technology into the paws. Nearly lost our eyebrows a few times before we finally got it right.”

Tony apparently couldn’t keep quiet any longer. As soon as Burn had finished, the human Engineer burst into an explanation of exactly what they’d done to merge their respective technologies successfully. No one seemed to be paying attention to the technical jargon. Even Burn, who assumedly understood what was being said, was focusing more on his pizza than Tony.

Stark’s ridiculously self-congratulatory monologue was interrupted when his metal squirrel suddenly decided to pounce on Burn’s squirrel. This resulted in a mad scramble to secure drink glasses and plates as the pair chased one another around the table. The race ended when one squirrel tackled the other on Natasha’s plate. The Black Widow glared down at the cheese-covered mechanical miscreants. She slowly raised her gaze to glare at Burn and Tony.

“Stark, your new pet is a menace. You’ve obviously crossed some wires in whatever passes for its brain.”

There was absolute silence at the table as Agent Romanoff lifted both squirrels by their tails. They squeaked and struggled as she stood and walked over to stand between the Engineers. Neither Tony nor Burn protested as their respective squirrels were dropped onto their plates, ruining their own slices of pizza. Natasha continued to glare dangerously at the metal troublemakers.

“I think you need to readjust Spazzy’s programing, Stark. If I find another squirrel in my food the body will never be found.”

The Black Widow did not specify whether she meant the squirrel’s body or Tony’s. The silence continued until Natasha had gotten a new plate with a fresh slice of pizza and returned to the table. Burn and Tony exchanged looks as the Druid carried both plates of squirrel pizza to the sink and started washing off cheese and tomato sauce. The human Engineer suddenly blinked and turned to address Natasha.

“Wait. Did you just named my squirrel “Spazzy”? That is so wrong. No one should be allowed to name my creations except me.”

Natasha looked at him with a scarily blank expression on her face. She didn’t blink. She didn’t even seem to breathe. It was amazing how intimidating an expressionless expression was.

“…or I could just go with “Spazzy”. It’s not such a bad name, now that I think about it. Oh, hey, who wants more pizza? I’m gonna grab another slice.”

Tony joined Burn at the sink for squirrel-washing duty. After another minute of silence, conversation continued normally at the table. ‘Ice, who had been leaning on the counter and seemingly uninterested in food, chose that moment to grab a plate. He sat down across from Harvist with a large slice of hamburger and onion pizza. The Death Knight grinned at the Druid as he took a large bite. The humans were mildly surprised to see the Blood Elf eating beef right in front of his Tauren friend, but Harvist just rolled her eyes and ignored him.

“Ouch! Hey, mon, control your pest!”

All eyes immediately went to Shishido, who was sucking on one of her fingers and glaring at a small creature that had sat down beside her plate. It was about a foot long and looked a little like a chameleon with its four legs, long curled tail and round eyes. The body was a light turquoise with a pale cream underbelly and bright purple eyes. Two feather-like appendages sprouted from its head where ears, or perhaps horns, would usually go. A dark pink fin started just behind the head and traveled down the spine, ending just before the tail began. The wings looked very much like butterfly wings, and were mostly shades of pink with a few yellow dots and dark blue tips. The curled tail had alternating pink and purple stripes. ‘Shido growled at the little creature, which responded by opening its mouth to reveal rows of tiny yet sharp teeth as it hissed loudly.

“What the hell is THAT?!”

“Narcy! Bad Sprite Darter! Get back over here before ‘Shido eats you.”

‘Ice ignored Clint’s query as he scolded his wayward pet. The Sprite Darter hissed again and fluttered into the air, taking a slice of ‘Shido’s pepperoni pizza with it. The Death Knight sighed in frustration as Narcy landed out of reach atop a tall bookshelf and started eating his stolen prize. It was Thor who spoke next, succeeding in getting the Blood Elf’s attention.

“What manner of creature is that? It is unlike I have previously encountered.”

“Narcy, short for Narcissus, is a Sprite Darter. Don’t let those pretty looks fool you; he’s a vicious creature who’s just as likely to bite you as he is to let you pet him. I’ve raised him from an egg.”

More than one pair of eyes looked between the hissing pink-and-turquoise Sprite Darter and the black-and-skulls Death Knight. Even the other Azerothians seemed a bit skeptical of ‘Ice’s choice of pet. Golaugost leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and levelled his blue-eyed gaze at this Blood Elf.

“Sprite Darters are members of the Faerie Dragon family, I recall. They are normally quite peaceful, and are known for their beautiful songs. I question your parenting abilities than such a typically friendly creature is so ill tempered and violent.”

‘Ice sneered at the Draenei but didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, the elf crossed his arms and settled into a full sulk, icy blue eyes continuously glaring at the Paladin. Golau watched the Sprite Darter for another moment, then returned to his meal. Steve was the next to break the silence.

“So that hissing monster on the bookshelf is a tiny Faeirie Dragon? That’s…really weird, actually. How does someone who’s essentially a humanoid killing machine end up raising some lizard with butterfly wings as a pet?”

The Death Knight actually growled at Steve’s words, and began to rise from his chair before ‘Shido grabbed his arm and made him sit back down. The blond elf grumbled and glared at his food, deciding to ignore everyone for the remainder of the meal. Narcy trilled happily from atop the bookshelf; his joy a sharp contrast to his master’s dark brooding.

“Well, this has been an interesting evening. We’ve learned that Tony and Burn should not be left alone together, Mr. Emo Death Knight has a pet butterfly lizard, and that Tauren aren’t as vegetarian as they look. I do have one question, though…”

All eyes turned Clint as he paused dramatically before continuing.

“Where is the zombie?”

Looks of alarm suddenly crossed most faces of the table’s occupants. ‘Ice was still in full sulk and refusing to acknowledge anyone. Natasha was the person to finally answer.

“I locked Dan in a spare closet. ‘Ice told him to stay put, and I doubt the ghoul is smart enough to work a doorknob anyway. J.A.R.V.I.S. is monitoring the situation in case something happens.”

“Dan? The zombie has a name? Why didn’t anyone tell me the zombie had a name?”

“You didn’t ask, Clint. Besides, we had more important issues to deal with at the time. Such as aliens and undead running rampant on the streets of a heavily populated city.”

The Avengers fell into their typical team banter, much to the amusement of their guests. The Azerothians, excluding ‘Ice, joined in conversation and the remainder of the meal passed pleasantly. It turned out Tauren, Draenei, Trolls and Worgen ate a LOT of pizza. Even Thor was mildly impressed. Once the dishes were cleared and the leftovers, what little there was, were put in the refrigerator everyone began heading to their own rooms. Before they scattered for the night, Burn and Harvist offered to prepare food for the next evening’s meal.

“We enjoyed eating food of your world, and would like to share some dishes from ours. We’ll make a list of ingredients, and perhaps someone could help us find them?”

Bruce and Steve somehow ended up volunteering to help the two Druids in the kitchen. The humans weren’t sure what to expect of alien cuisine, but when they saw “meaty bat wing” on the ingredients list, they knew that the next day was going to be very interesting. With mixed feelings of excitement and dread, the inhabitants of the Tower went to bed.

Chapter Text

Breakfast wasn’t usually a team affair, but the Azerothians’ presence meant group meals for everyone. None of the aliens were allowed to roam the tower unaccompanied. And so morning saw all but Tony Stark (who had locked himself in his lab in the wee hours of the morning and had yet to emerge) seated around the dining table enjoying a meal of scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, toast, poptarts, several varieties of cereal, milk, orange juice and coffee. Rhewi’s plate was piled high in bacon and very little else. The Worgen had started drooling when she smelled the crispy pig product and no one had the courage to complain after she snarled at Clint when he attempted to steal off her plate.

“Hey, Rhewi…”

Burn called to her from across the table. The Worgen looked up from her plate, licked a few crumbs off her snout, and flicked an ear forward.

“What?”

Burn’s mild facial expression turned mischievous as he held up a link of pork sausage. He smirked as he spoke.

“I’ll give you my sausage if you sit up and beg.”

The table went oddly quiet as everyone pretended not to be listening for the Mage’s response. Rhewi stared blankly at the Night Elf for a moment before realization set in. She narrowed her eyes and curled her lips into a silent snarl. The Worgen glared at Burn’s sausage in disgust. There was an audible growl in her voice when she finally answered.

“I’ll never beg for anything as tiny as that.”

Clint choked on his coffee as the others hid their smiles. Burn looked surprised for a split second before flushing maroon in embarrassment. His long ears drooped slightly as he returned his attention to his plate. There was a brief lull before conversation started up again. Harvist poked at her eggs as she addressed the Avengers.

“This food is very much like what we have on Azeroth. Although our eggs usually come in larger sizes.”

“I guess eggs are a universal food staple. And your sausage is probably made from some animal we’ve never heard of.”

The Tauren nodded at Steve’s words as she chewed a large bite of buttered toast. The Earth foods weren’t too different from what was available on Azeroth. No one had gotten sick from the strange meal the night before. Narcy the Sprite Darter had slept all night, which was unusual for the small creature, but he’d woken up in good health and was currently stealing ‘Ice’s poptart. The Death Knight either didn’t notice or didn’t care as he glared at his bowl of brightly colored cereal. Now that was something Azeroth didn’t have. And, after sampling some of the small sugary breakfast food, Harvist was sure that “cereal” was not something they’d miss when they returned home. Thinking of home and food, she had an idea.

“You have introduced us to some of your delicious foods. I would like to prepare a meal favored by my people, if you’re willing, although I may need to make some substitutions.”

The Avengers exchanged looks, which ended with everyone staring at Steve Rogers. It seemed the silent conversation had concluded, and all that remained was for the team’s leader to deliver the verdict.

“We’d all love to taste something from your world. I see no objections to you cooking a meal so long as one of us is with you to help operate the kitchen appliances.”

The Night Elf, having perked up at the mention of cooking, decided to put his own offer on the table.

“I can cook! I learned from the best chef in Darnassus. He said my rice cakes were unforgettable.”

“That’s because you’re the only elf in the history of the Kaldorei to actually set your cakes on fire when offering them to the Ancestors. It’s not something to brag about.”

The Druid glared at Golaugost. That was one tidbit of information that could have remained unsaid. Burn picked up Pedro the Mechanical Squirrel, who had managed to get himself covered in scrambled eggs, and began to clean the metal critter with a napkin.

“That only happened once! And it was ages ago. I haven’t set a meal on fire since the Shattering.”

“That much is true. You just set everything else on fire with your failed engineering projects.”

The Night Elf was looking incredibly unimpressed with his blue-skinned companion. Rhewi’s snickering did nothing to help the situation. Much to everyone’s surprise, Harvist smiled.

“I welcome your aid, Burn. We’ll show these doubters than Druids are excellent chefs.”

As the two Druids shared a gleeful look, the rest of the table’s occupants wondered if this alliance of the chefs was a good idea, or a disaster in the making. In a few hours they’d have an answer.

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Everyone was beginning to gather in the communal kitchen for lunch. The two Druids had prepared a meal with the aid of Steve and Bruce. The two humans mostly just supervised to make sure nothing too unusual found its way into the food. They’d been slightly alarmed when Burn asked if they had fresh spider legs in the pantry. The Night Elf ended up making his “Kaldorei Spider Kabobs” using chicken instead. Harvist had done a smoked fish dish that smelled delicious and did not call for any part of an arachnid. Steve prepared a salad as the Azerothians complained about the lack of proper cooking ingredients.

“I just don’t understand why you humans don’t keep spiders on hand. They’re a cooking staple!”

“Burn, they might not even have spiders on this planet.”

“Actually, we do have spiders. Well, what we call spiders. Most species are pretty small. I think the largest is about a foot across.”

The two Druids stared at Bruce with matching expressions of surprise. Burn opened his mouth and began to describe the spiders of his homeworld.

“The spiders of Azeroth range from a few inches across to the size of a warship. Most are only about the size of a large stag. Those make the best kabobs and stews.”

Bruce and Steve shared looks of horror as they imagined Azerothian spiders. Bruce broke the silence first.

“Big as a WARSHIP?!

“Oh, sure. There aren’t many of those, I grant you, but enough that we’ve all become pretty good at defeating them when necessary.”

Harvist’s words did nothing to calm the Humans’ horror. For a few silent moments all the two Avengers could think of were giant spiders attacking New York City. Neither wanted to face such a situation. Aliens and robots were bad enough; they didn’t need arachnids the size of a four story building. Bruce blinked and thought of something that he hesitated to ask, but just had to know.

“How big, exactly, is your kind of stag?”

Burn and Harvist exchanged glances. They conversed in a melodic language that neither Human understood,

“O amaN’ bandu alah dieb dor alah lo talah alah’ni, Burn.”

“O amaN’ bandu alah dieb alah’ni al ash, Harvist.”

“O bandu alah tal aman’ni da dor alah lo thera dor’ano no anoduna, ishnu su alah.”

The Night Elf’s mouth curved into a smirk as the Tauren gave an amused snort. The two eyed their new friends for a moment before continuing their chat.

“O bandu al neph’o diel rini dath o anar dath turus dieb.”

With that final comment from the Tauren, the two turned back to the Humans. Harvist moved to stand in the most open part of the kitchen while Burn cleared his throat and made an exaggerated arm movement to draw their attention to the Tauren. His voice was filled with amusement as he answered Bruce’s question.

“You want to know what an Azerothian stag looks like. Well, we can show you.”

And with that, the Tauren shifted into a brown stag. Bruce and Steve both took a step back as the kitchen area became rather cramped. The “stag” looked more like a moose as she stood a good eight feet tall, not including the massive antlers which added another couple of feet to the height. There was no mistaking Harvist for an Earth animal. Her shaggy fur was a dusty brown, and featured decorative swirl markings in white. Strips of leather were wrapped around the antlers in places, as well as around the legs, and a thick leather collar with spikes and blue-green “gems” decorating it hung around the strong neck. The most disconcerting aspect of Harvist-the-Stag had to be the pair of razor sharp tusks protruding upwards from the lower jaw, much like a wild boar.

“Yeah, I’d rather not meet a spider that’s even a quarter of that size.”

Bruce nodded in agreement with Steve’s statement. He might have asked the question, but he wasn’t so sure he liked the answer. A moose-sized stag was still less alarming than a warship-sized spider, but it appeared that everything grew bigger on Azeroth. And more dangerous if Harvist’s stag-tusks were anything to judge by.

“And, just because I can…”

Burn stepped beside Harvist-the-Stag, turned to face the Humans, and shifted. Bruce and Steve blinked at the second stag that now filled the kitchen. It was like night and day seeing the two standing there side-by-side. Burn-the-Stag was shorter than Harvist by about a foot, and that was the least of the differences. Burn’s fur was silky white, with dull purple swirls. He, too, had adornments on his antlers, neck and legs, but where Harvist wore spikes, Burn’s stag-garb featured green leaves and purple gems with silver trim. Where Harvist was intimidating, Burn was elegant. Together they made quite the impressive sight.

“Can your other friends turn into stags?”

Both Druids shifted back to their normal selves to answer Steve’s question. Burn was the first to reply.

“It’s a Druid skill. Stag form is mainly used to travel long distances by ground. Sometimes we’ll let a friend ride on our backs, but I personally am not fond of that. They keep trying to grab my antlers to steer me.”

Harvist nodded along, making a face that indicated that she, too, had suffered the indignity of a passenger yanking on her antlers. Before the two Druids could elaborate further on the joys of Stag form, a buzzer sounded. The last of the lunch dishes was done baking. Harvist went to remove it from the oven while Burn started handing Steve and Bruce the other dishes to take to the dining table. A few moments later, J.A.R.V.I.S. was asked to inform the other Avengers and Azerothians that lunch was served.

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The tower’s occupants once again found themselves gathered around the dining table, this time with Tony in attendance looking a bit singed and grease-stained. After some initial hesitation, the Avengers dug in and declared the Azerothian foods to be delicious. The Druids preened under the compliments, and conversation turned towards the stag display that had happened in the kitchen. As Bruce told the others what had occurred, Steve remembered something that he decided to ask about. The Captain turned to address the Druids.

“In the kitchen, you two were speaking a strange melodic language that seemed vaguely familiar. I just remembered where I heard it before. It sounded a lot like what ‘Ice said to me when we were fighting.”

The Tauren raised an eyebrow, but Burn and ‘Ice both made indignant noises. The two elves glared at Steve as if he’d just said the most insulting thing they’d ever heard. The poor Captain wondered what could possibly be wrong about voicing his observation. ‘Ice was the one to educate him.

“I spoke to you in Thalassian. It is the elegant language of my people. That pink-skinned monstrosity of an elf speaks Darnassian.”

There was no mistaking the tone of voice ‘Ice used when saying “Darnassian.” Even the least observant of the Avengers was immediately aware that the Blood Elf had a very low opinion of the Night Elf. From the look on Burn’s face as he gazed at the Death Knight, that low opinion was most certainly reciprocated. Even their pets seemed to reflect their masters’ opinions. Narcy and Pedro had perched on the table in front of their respective elves, aggressively hissing and chittering respectively. As the tension rose, Shishido decided to add her two cents to the conversation.

“You elves be idiots. Everyone know ya be related. Stop glarin’ at da Captain for noticin’ ya speak alike.”

Indignant spluttering issued from both elves as they turned the full fury of their glares on the Troll. ‘Shido just smiled innocently in the face of two pairs of angry glowing eyes. The other Azerothians suddenly found their dinner plates to be fascinating. The Avengers were slightly confused but very interested to see how this not-so-friendly banter played out. The potential information to be gained about the cultures of their guests would be valuable.

“I refuse to accept any Sindorei as kin, no matter how distant the relation. There is no way I’m related to that vain, pompous, undead magic-addicted pretty-boy!”

Burn, who up to now had seemed to be a rather laid-back sort, shocked the Avengers with the force of his vehement denial. ‘Ice shot up out of his chair, outraged.

“How DARE you! I am NOT addicted to magic!”

“No, mon. Ya just be addicted to pain and death now.”

The Death Knight growled at the Hunter. ‘Shido was unrepentant. It wasn’t like she’d said something untrue, after all. Almost everyone on Azeroth knew these facts, even if it wasn’t talked about. The Troll just couldn’t help but poke the hornet’s nest that was elven relations. Even if ‘Ice attacked her, she wouldn’t regret inserting herself into the argument.

“An abomination as well as a ponce. How many friends have you killed again?”

With an inarticulate scream the Blood Elf launched himself across the table, his hands reaching for Burn’s throat. The Druid didn’t stand still, though, and soon the Death Knight found himself grasping a large, blue-furred saber tooth panther. As the two elves struggled on the carpet, their pets wrestled on the table. Rhewi quickly tried to separate the battling pets. Harvist and Golaugost stood but hesitated, unsure whether to stop the fight or let the elves get out their aggression. The Avengers, on the other hand, had no intention of letting two of their “guests” kill each other. Steve and Thor moved into position near their respective target. Thor gripped ‘Ice’s arm in an attempt to pull him away while Steve grabbed the panther by the scruff of his neck. This did not have the desired effect as the elves, in their fury, did not hesitate to turn against those who dared interfere. ‘Ice headbutted Thor’s face, which stunned the Asgardian long enough for the Death Knight to break free of his grip. Steve was unfortunate in that Burn-the-Cat had faster reflexes than Captain America. A massive paw swipe resulted in lacerations on the Super Soldier’s left arm and torso. As soon as the two elves had freed themselves, they went right back to fighting one another. Thor looked as though he was going to make another attempt to drag the two apart, but was stopped by a blue hand on his shoulder.

“It is best to leave them be, my friend. You will only anger them further if you involve yourself in this conflict.”

Thor met Golau’s gaze for a moment before reluctantly agreeing with the Draenei and stepping away from the battling elves. The Prince of Asgard observed the pair with concern. As he watched, he noticed something that struck him as rather unusual. For such a vicious battle, the two participants were showing few visual injuries. Granted ‘Ice did not have his sword, but the Death Knight was surely strong enough to do real harm with his fists to the large panther. And Burn’s claws and teeth should have been ripping into ‘Ice like a knife through paper, but the Blood Elf didn’t seem to be bleeding. Thor narrowed his eyes as he addressed the Paladin.

“Are they actually trying to kill each other?”

Golaugost seemed mildly surprised for a second. He gave Thor a considering look before answering.

“The animosity between Night Elves and Blood Elves is well known. Also, Death Knights are generally looked upon with suspicion and hatred by both Horde and Alliance, with few exceptions. In addition to these ingrained prejudices, they are angry at each other for the personal insults. I cannot speak for the Death Knight, but I know Burn well. If he truly wished to do harm, he would have shifted into a Bear.”

The fight continued unabated for another five minutes with neither party showing any sign of fatigue. Harvist and Natasha disappeared into the kitchen as Clint, Tony and ‘Shido sat at the table watching the wrestling match. Steve had removed his shirt to allow Bruce to clean his wounds, which weren’t as bad as they’d first looked. The Troll glanced over and gave the Captain and appraising look, followed by a wicked smile. Steve was somewhat used to that particular look, but coming from an alien with tusks and questionable morals, it made him very uncomfortable.

“Everyone stand back!”

All eyes were on Natasha as she charged into the room holding a steaming bucket. Close behind her came Harvist, who carried a large metal tub filled with ice and water. Before anyone could react, the steaming bucket was emptied over the fighting pair eliciting some truly impressive agonized yowling. Natasha barely jumped back in time to avoid getting soaked as Harvist dumped her bucket of ice water on the elves. The fighting stopped immediately under the assault of boiling followed by freezing water. ‘Ice sat on the floor and glared at Harvist as water droplets dripped off his nose and ears. Burn, still in his panther form, was a huddling, shivering mass of wet cat. Neither seemed interested in resuming their brawl.

“If you children are done pulling each other’s hair, Dr. Banner can check you for injuries.”

For a moment ‘Ice looked as though he wanted to yell at the Black Widow, but a not-so-gentle nudge from Harvist’s hoof made him shut his mouth. Burn, still shivering, did not react to the verbal barb. Rhewi walked over, firmly holding an irate Sprite Darter in one hand and a struggling Mechanical Squirrel in the other. She placed Narcy on ‘Ice’s shoulder, and sat Pedro on Burn’s head. The little creatures stayed where they’d been put, sulkily clinging to their soaked owners.

“Well, that was exciting. What’s for dessert?”

Clint leaned back in his chair looking as though he witnessed alien elves fighting every day. Tony eyed the shivering long-eared blue panther speculatively.

“You know, I think that’s the first cat fight that’s broken out in the tower.”

“Does it even count as a cat fight when only one participant is actually a cat?”

Bruce didn’t wait for a reply. The Doctor had finished patching up Steve and was approaching ‘Ice with the first aid kit. The damp Death Knight refused Dr. Banner’s helping hand and stood under his own power. A pointed look from Harvist was enough to make the Blood Elf submit to a brief examination. His black armor bore quite a few new scratches, but there wasn’t a mark on his pale skin. Bruce was surprised at the lack of injury given how vicious the fight had looked. He left ‘Ice wringing out his wet hair and approached the saber tooth feline. Burn looked up as the Human approached but did not otherwise move. After a visual inspection of the large cat, Bruce realized he needed to get past the wet fur if he was going to find any injuries.

“Can you transform back into a Night Elf? It would make checking you over a lot easier.”

At first it didn’t appear the Druid had heard him, but then the blue ball of fur slowly uncurled and shifted back into his original elven self. Burn was obviously still cold from the ice water bath, but Bruce found only minor bruises. The Human shook his head and couldn’t help but wonder what it took to really hurt the elves. He then decided he did not actually want to find out the answer. Burn shook his head, dislodging the Mechanical Squirrel from its perch, and carefully stood and sat down back in his chair at the table. ‘Ice had already returned to his seat. As water dripped from both, the two elves calmly began eating the remainder of their meals as if nothing had happened. It was at that moment J.A.R.V.I.S. interrupted the silence.

“Sir, a situation is developing downtown.”

“Put it up on the screen, JARVIS.”

Tony, along with the others, studied the holographic display that suddenly appeared above the table. The video was live news footage of some sort of attack featuring robots and strange looking figures. The Azerothians immediately leapt to their feet when they saw a close-up of something that looked like a purple Night Elf with horns and burgundy Tauren legs. Harvist shouted a name as she recognized the Satyr.

“Foulhorn!”

“Friend of yours?”

Harvist turned a disgusted glare on Tony. She was not in the mood for flippant commentary.

“That Satyr is the leader of the group we were fighting before waking up on this planet. You must let us take him down. You have no idea what he’s capable of.”

“We’ve faced aliens before and won. We captured you without much trouble.”

Clint left out the fact that three of their guests had not actually been captured, and conveniently forgot that the three they had captured had been fighting as individuals and not in a team. The news footage clearly showed Foulhorn accompanied by a snake-lady, some guy in a robe with a truly ugly pet monster, and a man driving a large robot that looked suspiciously familiar to the Avengers. They were fighting as a unit, and the local authorities could do nothing to stop the violence. Steve observed each of the Azerothians in turn and came to a decision.

“Okay, this is a chance for you all to prove you’ve been telling us the truth. You have three minutes to grab your weapons.”

With facial expressions ranging from determined to gleeful, the aliens ran for their gear. Captain Rogers turned to his own teammates and uttered the official summons.

“Avengers assemble.”

Chapter Text

Two minutes and forty nine seconds after Captain Roger’s official order everyone was armed, assembled and ready to board the quinjet. Clint eyed ‘Ice warily as they entered the aircraft. The Death Knight apparently had an interesting idea of what “weapon” meant.

“The giant glowy sword I understand, but is it really necessary to bring along the drooling zombie?”

“Ghouls are a most effective asset in battle. And Dan does not drool. His ability to produce saliva ceased when I killed and raised him.”

“Right, because knowing the zombie is your murder victim makes it all better.”

‘Ice shrugged at the Archer, not seeming to care about being called a murderer. He’d been called a lot worse, after all, and it wasn’t as if Agent Barton had said something untrue. ‘Ice was a cold-hearted killer, and he knew it. The job came with its share of mental demons but at the end of the day the Blood Elf had accepted what he’d become. He had companions he trusted and a role to fill as part of the Horde. There was no shortage of enemies to defeat on Azeroth.

“Stop baiting the psychotic alien, Clint. We want him to attack the bad guys, not us.”

Natasha herded the last of the Azerothians onto the aircraft and they were soon hovering over the hostile forces. The smaller robots, which looked to be remote controlled drones, were firing some kind of energy weapons at anything that moved. Several bodies were visible in the rubble, and quite a few of the fleeing people were bleeding through their clothing. The attack hadn’t been going on for more than fifteen minutes, and already it looked like the worst thing to hit New York since the Chitauri. They needed to control the situation quickly before any more civilians got hurt.

The quinjet landed a short distance from the hostiles and everyone save Bruce prepared to disembark. The Doctor would stay behind as backup. The ramp had barely opened before Captain America led the charge into battle. A single toss of the shield took out three of the robotic drones. A furry purple blur streaked past Steve as Burn’s massive bear form plowed down half a dozen more drones. The Druid stood up on his hind legs and unleashed a deafening roar, challenging the enemy. The Satyr looked mildly surprised, but did not hesitate to start flinging balls of dark energy at the heroes. The Avengers let the Azerothians take the lead in dealing with the horned adversary, instead focusing on the drones and the larger manned robot.

“These drones are an insult to mad scientists everywhere. Seriously, they fall apart just from looking at them. It’s embarrassing.”

“They may be shoddy construction, Iron Man, but there are a LOT of them. Like ants. Really large ants with laser beams on their heads.”

“If you want giant insects, Hawkeye, come to Azeroth. I’ll gladly take you on a tour of a Silithid hive.”

The Archer gave Rhewi a suspicious glance at the offer. He decided to wait until later to ask what a “silithid” was, but suspected he wouldn’t like the answer. Further conversation was cut off by the arrival of a second swarm of drones. Hawkeye sent arrow after arrow into the things while Rhewi threw bolts of ice that were surprisingly effective against the small robots. Shishido was also firing arrows at the drones from a vantage point atop a traffic light while her pet lion ripped the robots apart as they fell into the street. Harvist had shifted into her Moonkin form and was blasting drones out of the air as well as hurling balls of fiery energy towards the snake-lady. While the Naga was able to block the Druid’s spells, she was unable to cast any offensive magic of her own. Golaugost was facing off against the man in the strange robe, although he spent more time blocking energy blasts with his shield than he did actually swinging his mace. The enemy Warlock was so focused on the Paladin that he failed to notice a red-headed figure sneaking up behind him. Natasha struck swiftly, incapacitating the man before he realized she was there. The Draenei helped her quickly bind the unconscious Warlock’s hands and feet before they both dove back into the fray.

“There’s another wave of drones headed our way. We need to take out the manned robot. It’s got be the control unit.”

At Steve’s order the Avengers’ focus shifted from smashing drones to targeting the larger mechanical threat. Iron Man swooped in and engaged that particular enemy before the others had time to change targets. Unfortunately, the large robot proved to be of much sturdier construction than the easily destroyed drones. It was like a tank with clawed arms and energy weapons. One of the arms latched on to Tony’s leg, yanking him out of the air. Before Iron Man could react, a glowing blade sliced through the arm’s “elbow” joint. The Death Knight sneered at Stark, then turned and stabbed at the machine’s treads with his massive runeblade as the pet Ghoul clawed at the metal skin. A few blasts from Iron Man rendered the machine immobile, and the two turned their attention to the driver. Unfortunately, immobile did not mean defenseless and Tony was hurled into a nearby building by the force of a point-blank blast from one of the energy canons. ‘Ice fared little better as the remaining arm’s claws wrapped around his waist before flinging him towards the far end of the street. Had the Blood Elf still been “alive” he would surely have perished from the force of impact against the asphalt. As it was he managed to regain his footing after lying stunned for only a moment. The Death Knight glared at the robotic enemy, which was now half a block away with at least three dozen drones between them.

Cold blue eyes fell upon the corpse of a police horse that lay in the street, it’s rider’s body crushed beneath it. The Avengers had displayed an aversion to reanimated humans, but perhaps they wouldn’t mind if he raised a mount for himself. The Death Knight focused on the fallen equine, his sword held against the beast’s ribcage. The corpse twitched, then shuddered as unseeing brown eyes began to glow an icy blue. The flesh seemed to fall away in places as the horse rose from its prone position. The previously brown fur was now a dull black. Leg bones were exposed from the knees down, and the hooves were aflame with a blue-white fire that burned cold. The undead animal snorted as ‘Ice took the reins and mounted. With an echoing warcry the Death Knight charged back into battle, his runeblade slicing into the drones that hovered between him and the man inside the metal machine.

The roar of an angry bear sounded as the Satyr landed a direct hit upon Burn. The stench of singed fur and burnt flesh wafted into the air as the Druid was forced back. Foulhorn smiled cruelly as he readied another blast of dark magic. Burn couldn’t dodge properly with the injury to his left foreleg, and that gave the Satyr an advantage. A barrage of arrows interrupted Foulhorn’s spellcasting and forced him to move away from the wounded bear. The few seconds were all Burn needed to limp out of the Satyr’s line of sight. Perhaps, he thought to himself, going after the most powerful of their adversaries on his own was not the wisest of ideas. He could certainly take a beating, but magic was far more dangerous than mere blades. The Druid took a moment to shift into his elf form, cast a quick healing spell that repaired the worst of the damage, then returned to bear form. His foreleg wasn’t completely healed, but at least he could run on it. Burn returned to the fight.

The Warlock may have been subdued by Golau and Black Widow, but his pet Fel Hound was still a threat. The hideous creature had decided that Thor smelled delicious, and thus the Prince of Asgard was dodging out of the grasp of the beast’s odd tentacles while simultaneously trying to land a blow with Mjolner. The monster snapped its jaws at Thor’s ankles, causing the Prince to jump away least he be bitten. Unfortunately he jumped right into a tentacle’s grasp. The strange sucker at the tip dug into his flesh and the Asgardian suddenly felt as if all his energy, his very life force, was being drained away. He screamed as the shock of the attack sent him to his knees. Suddenly a brown blur slammed into the monstrous beast with such force that the tentacle released its grip. Thor sagged against the shaggy brown stag. A not-so-gentle prod from the creature’s muzzle encouraged the Asgardian to swing himself onto the stag’s back. They raced away from the dazed Fel Hound at an impressive speed. Thor suddenly realized he wasn’t holding his weapon and looked around for the hammer. The Prince was surprised to see Mjolner dangling from one of the stag’s antlers. He must’ve hung it there as he mounted, and the sight was certainly a strange one. The stag slowed to a stop once there was enough distance between them and the energy-sucking monster. Thor slid off and grabbed Mjolner as the stag shifted into a Tauren. Harvist crossed her arms over her chest and gave Thor a hard look.

“Don’t you know to never, NEVER, engage a Fel Hound at melee range? It would has sucked you dry!”

“I have never before encountered such a creature, Lady Harvist. Be sure it is a lesson I will not forget.”

The Tauren sniffed, her hard gaze softening slightly.

“Leave the Fel Hound to those of us with ranged attacks. I’m sure you can find something else to smash with that hammer of yours.”

Before Thor could form a retort, Harvist shifted into Moonkin form, turned around and started lobbing spells at the Fel monster. The Prince decided to take her advice and smash drones instead of Fel Hounds. The number of operational small robots was decreasing, but there were still a good two dozen flying around. And the larger machine still had one functioning energy canon despite Iron man’s efforts to disable it. Yes, there were plenty of other others foes. He left the vampiric monster to those better equipped to handle it.

“They’re retreating! Everyone focus on the Satyr. He seems to be the leader.”

Despite Steve’s order, his teammates were occupied with fending off the last of the swarm of drones. It seemed they were providing cover for the retreating enemies. The scientist blasted Iron Man away once more, then escaped from his immobile machine as the others reached his position. Foulhorn began to chant and channel energy as the Naga shielded them all from attacks. There was a flash of light, and the trio was gone. It took less than three minutes for the heroes to destroy the few remaining drones. Once the fighting stopped, everyone congregated around the still unconscious Warlock.

“Well, we’ve got one prisoner to interrogate. The others got away, but this guy should be able to tell us some valuable information.”

Everyone nodded. A prisoner was a good thing. The Azerothians especially knew that causing chaos was a primary objective of the Satyr’s group, but there would be a more specific end goal to their plans. Harvist nudged the unconscious prisoner with a hoof. She sighed and looked at the faces of those around her. Suddenly, the Tauren realized that one face was missing.

“Where’s ‘Ice?”

All eyes quickly began to survey their surroundings in search of the missing Death Knight. Harvist was worried about her friend, but the Avengers were more concerned about the fact a dangerous alien was running around unsupervised. No one wanted a repeat of the “zombie apocalypse” incident. The sound of hoof beats on asphalt alerted the group to the approach of a mounted figure.

Looking like a twisted version of a ‘black knight’ from an old fantasy movie, ‘Ice rode up on his new mount with Dan following behind like a loyal dog. Everyone eyed the obviously deceased equine with looks ranging from raised eyebrows to exasperation. Tony narrowed his eyes as the horse shook its head and stomped one fiery hoof on the asphalt.

“I hope you aren’t planning on bringing that thing into my tower.”

“I can’t very well leave him to roam the streets. Someone might try to hurt him.”

Everyone aside from the Horde members blinked at the Death Knight’s statement. Those who did not know ‘Ice well always thought him a heartless sort, but in truth the Blood Elf had the capacity to really care about others. He didn’t often allow himself to care, though. He much preferred the bloodthirsty murderer façade. Thor stepped close and lifted a hand to pet the Deathcharger’s nose.

“Your steed is quite impressive. What is he called?”

“He’s a Deathcharger, but I haven’t given him a proper name yet. I’ll have to think about it.”

Seeing that the undead equine was rather docile, the others relaxed a little and moved in closer for a better look at ‘Ice’s latest zombie creation. They were starting to adapt to the Death Knight’s tendency to reanimate the nearest corpse. Clint spoke up with a suggestion to help find a name the horse.

“I had a dog once. Named her after an old girlfriend.”

The Blood Elf considered the Archer’s idea for a moment before nodding.

“Perhaps it would be appropriate to name the beast after a former lover.”

“If you name that animal for that ill-tempered waitress who never got my order right, I’m kicking you in the head. Don’t think I won’t.”

One look told ‘Ice that Harvist was completely serious. While he had flirted shamelessly and gotten preferential treatment from the waitress in question, his Tauren friend had had to suffer through the passive-aggressive jealously in silence. They’d had to stay at that inn for a week while waiting to rendezvous with a larger group, and Harvist’s patience had nearly been exhausted. She’d held her tongue (and her fist) for ‘Ice’s sake. He really had been rather smitten with that waitress by the time they left. She’d always remembered to bring a little something for Narcy to eat. The Blood Elf shook his head and tried to recall a different name that would fit his horse as Clint watched him impatiently.

“So what are you naming your new pony?”

The Death Knight dismounted and looked intently into his Deathcharger’s eerily glowing eyes. After a moment he snapped his fingers and smiled. Looking rather pleased with his decision, the Blood Elf proclaimed the name of his undead warhorse for all to hear.

“Leroy!”

The other Azerothians looked surprised for a second before collectively groaning. The Avengers were confused. ‘Leroy’ seemed like a strangely normal name to their ears. Although not the first name that came to mind when thinking of a horse, it didn’t seem to warrant the reaction it received. There had to be more to that particular name than they were aware of. Steve was the first to speak.

“Do I even want to know?”

‘Ice seemed disappointed with the negative reaction to his mount’s new name. He turned away and settled into a sulk and refused to elaborate on why he felt ‘Leroy’ to be the perfect name for his Deathcharger. Harvist decided she might as well explain to the confused Humans.

“It’s…well, everyone knows the story. It’s legendary. Of course there’s more than one person named ‘Leroy’ on Azeroth, but the most infamous is a Human who gained fame by being incredibly reckless. He charged into a room full of dragonkin guards, whelplings, and eggs that had just started hatching. His companions weren’t ready to enter that particular room yet, so they were even more surprised than the enemy. It turns out baby dragons are quite formidable, especially when the would-be dragon slayers haven’t even unsheathed their swords. The idiot made it out alive, but his companions weren’t as lucky.”

The Avengers were mildly stunned at the sheer stupidity of the individual in the story. They all had experience with fighting against the odds and taking potentially suicidal missions, but they’d never intentionally put the lives of their comrades in danger so needlessly. Tony turned his head to stare at the sulking Blood Elf.

“So…is your ex-boyfriend the same guy from that story?”

‘Ice sniffed in disdain and refused to acknowledge that anyone had spoken to him. Apparently the topic was closed so far as the Blood Elf was concerned. A pained groan drew everyone’s attention to the prone figure laying atop the rubble at their feet. The Warlock was showing signs of regaining consciousness. Shishido grabbed the man and threw him over the back of ‘Ice’s saddle like a sack of potatoes, much to the Death Knight’s annoyance.

“Don’t be givin’ me dat look. I’m not carryin’ any Cultist over my shoulder, mon. You get to take him to da cells since ya got that nice new pony.”

The Blood Elf glared but did not object further. He mounted and rode off in the direction of the S.H.I.E.L.D. building he’d been held captive in only a day before. The Druids shifted into their Stormcrow forms and followed, circling above in case the Warlock awoke before being safely tucked into a cell. Iron Man flew ahead while the others boarded the quinjet. They’d all meet back up at the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility for a mission debrief with Director Fury. No one was particularly looking forward to the meeting, but it had to be done. They needed to know details about who the scientist helping the hostile aliens was and S.H.I.E.L.D. could give them the information they needed.

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Chapter Text

It took ‘Ice longer than anticipated to arrive at the S.H.I.E.L.D. building with the prisoner. Although no one attempted to stop him, the gawking civilians had been an unwelcome impediment. Some ran away screaming about zombies, but most just stood around, pointing and staring as he rode by. Leroy the Deathcharger nimbly trotted between vehicles and pedestrians as Dan the Ghoul followed a few steps behind. The Death Knight smirked at the startled front desk attendant as he rode through the front door of the S.H.I.E.L.D. building. The two Druidic Stormcrows swooped in behind him and shifted back to their respective humanoid forms. A contingent of Agents was already waiting to take custody of the prisoner. Another Agent led ‘Ice and the Druids to a meeting room where the rest of the Azerothians and Avengers were waiting, along with an impatient Director Fury.

“Last I checked this wasn’t a stable. Get that rotting horse out of my conference room. And it better not bite any of my Agents.”

‘Ice exchanged glares with the Director, sighed loudly, then gave Leroy a command to stay in the hallway. He sent Dan out of the room as well. The Death Knight dropped into an empty chair between Harvist and Shishido, crossed his arms, and continued to glare at the Director. Fury ignored the Blood Elf and turned to Captain Rogers for a summary of the battle. The other Avengers spoke up to add their own experiences to the verbal report. The Azerothians remained unusually silent throughout the debriefing process, speaking only when directly asked a question. In truth, the aliens were quickly bored with the entire meeting. Only Harvist was actually listening to what was said after the first ten minutes. The Director didn’t seem to notice, or perhaps he didn’t care so long as there were no interruptions. Finally the debriefing was over and Fury dismissed everyone aside from Agent Romanoff.

“I want you to question the prisoner. While things could have been worse today, there were still too many civilian casualties, not to mention the property damage. We need to know what they’re plan is before another attack is launched.”

Natasha nodded and turned to head out the door, but paused when Harvist walked over. The Tauren stared down at the Director as she spoke.

“I have a request, Director. I would like you to allow ‘Ice to participate in the Warlock’s interrogation.”

Fury narrowed his eye and frowned. No way in hell was he letting that homicidal undead idiot near a prisoner. He needed answers, and it was impossible to obtain information from a corpse. Well, technically the Death Knight could raise people as zombies, but if “Dan” was typical then they wouldn’t be getting anything useful out of a Ghoul.

“Not a chance. I appreciate that the prisoner is from your world, and it would be helpful if you could brief Romanoff with details that might aid her interrogation, but I am NOT letting your murder-happy friend anywhere near the prisoner.”

Harvist snorted in annoyance at the Director’s refusal. She’d half expected it, and had already thought about how to convince him to change his mind. She glanced over her shoulder at ‘Ice, who was sulking near the door waiting for her so they could leave.

“You remember what was said about Death Knights in our first meeting, Director? About how they need to feed upon others’ pain? The Hunger isn’t going to go away. ‘Ice knows how to inflict torture without killing the victim. He also knows how to handle Warlocks. That’s something Agent Romanoff cannot learn in five minutes. I’m sure she excels at her job, but ‘Ice also excels at his. The Warlock knows this, and he’ll be fully aware of the atrocities a sadistic Death Knight can inflict without allowing the release of death. I’m certain that ‘Ice and Natasha working together can get information more quickly than your Agent alone.”

Nick Fury had to admit the Tauren had an interesting argument. He glanced at Romanoff, who glanced over her shoulder at ‘Ice before giving the Director a small nod. Fury sighed, hoping this decision wouldn’t come back to bite him later.

“Romanoff, take the elf with you to question the prisoner. Make sure he leaves his sword and pets outside the interrogation room. I want that Warlock still breathing and able to speak in complete sentences after you’re done.”

The Black Widow walked purposefully out of the room, grabbing ‘Ice by the arm as she passed and dragging him behind her. The Death Knight was mildly surprised but quickly fell into step beside the Assassin. By the time they reached the room containing their prisoner, rules had been discussed and a strategy planned. ‘Ice reluctantly left his Runeblade outside the door with Dan and Leroy standing guard. If anyone tried to touch the weapon, his undead minions would remove their hand. He made sure to issue that particular order in Thalassian. He noted that the interrogation cell was small, with a single metal table and two chairs within. The Warlock sat in one chair with his hands chained to the table.

The Warlock’s head jerked up as the pair entered the room. He eyed Agent Romanoff warily as she smiled pleasantly. The smile did not reach her eyes. The Warlock turned his attention to the Blood Elf in the black armor. He stood just behind the Human woman, arms crossed over his chest. The smiling red-head sat down in the chair across the table from their prisoner.

“You seem like an intelligent man. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you why we’re having this little meeting.”

The Warlock snarled. He wasn’t impressed with his captors. Did they really think they could just ask nicely and have him spilling all his secrets? Fools, the lot of them.

“I will tell you nothing! You may as well begin the torture. I’ll never break.”

“I’m very disappointed to hear that. Perhaps you’re not as intelligent as I thought.”

The Death Knight stepped forward and around the table to loom directly over the Warlock. The prisoner’s skin prickled as the chill of the grave wafted off the elf. It was an unnerving sensation, being so close a Death Knight. Most living creatures couldn’t stand to get within arm’s reach of the Undead. The Warlock was used to handling demons, but he’d never liked dealing with the Scourge up close. Usually he’d cast his spells from a distance to destroy the monstrosities without having to be near enough to notice the otherworldly chill and stench of death that clung to all Scourge. ‘Ice lowered his head until his lips were nearly touching the prisoner’s ear. The only thing that unnerved the Warlock more than that deathly cold was the hollow, echoing voice.

“I suggest you cooperate. You think you know what pain is? I will show you such pain as to make even your demonic minions scream in agonized horror. I will inflict such delicious suffering upon your body and mind until you beg for the mercy of death. But I won’t let you die. You will be mine completely, writhing in anguish and despair under my touch.”

The Death Knight was almost purring as he spoke, his unearthly voice softer than it had any right to be. The Warlock flinched as cold fingers began to lightly trace his jawline. After a moment of the unwanted contact, the fingers grasped his jaw and twisted his head so he was looking directly into those cold blue eyes.

“Once I’ve made you mine, you WILL tell me all your secrets. You will tell me everything until there is nothing left to say. And then…I’ll make you scream even louder. You see, little Human, I don’t actually care what your allies are planning. I do hope you continue to hold your tongue, in fact. The longer you remain silent, the more fun I get to have. And you…I very much look forward to feeding on your agony.”

The seductive nature of the Blood Elf’s threat was far more disturbing than the words alone. Being tortured for information was expected. Becoming the plaything of a sadistic undead elf who was more interested in inflicting pain than getting answers was not something the Warlock had ever prepared for. The situation was all the more disturbingly surreal by the fact that the red-headed woman had been smiling pleasantly throughout the Death Knight’s entire speech. The Warlock tried to jerk his face out of the Blood Elf’s grasp, but the cold fingers tightened to dig painfully into his flesh. Lips parted into a smile that was all teeth and reminded the prisoner of a wolf anticipating sinking its jaws into prey. He couldn’t help the sliver of fear that smile provoked.

“You know what I am. Will you answer Agent Romanoff’s questions, or will you choose to give me the satisfaction of breaking you completely?”

“M-my name is Eadric.”

The Warlock mentally cursed his stutter. He’d wanted to put on a show of strength and determination. He did not want to give any sign that he was affected by the Death Knight’s threats. Promises, really. Eadric had no doubt the undead elf would gleefully follow through with everything he’d said he’d do. It was foolish, however, to tell his captors what they wanted to know just because someone spoke some unnerving words in his ear. Still, perhaps if he gave them unimportant tidbits about himself it would delay the physical torture part of the interrogation. It was a vain hope.

“I never asked for your name.”

The Death Knight suddenly growled and lunged forward to sink his teeth into Eadric’s ear. The Warlock screamed and struggled, but was unable to escape the iron grasp of those cold fingers. The Blood Elf pulled away sharply and spit a chunk of flesh onto the table. Warm red blood dripped down his chin as he once more smiled inches from Eadric’s face. A pale pink tongue slowly licked the blood from the Death Knight’s lower lip.

“Your pain is delicious, and that’s the least you have to look forward to.”

Eadric shuddered in true terror as the pain throbbed in his wounded ear. Agent Romanoff cleared her throat and the Death Knight immediately released his grip on Eadric’s jaw and took a few steps back. The red-headed woman’s pleasant smile was still firmly in place despite the scene she’d just witnessed. She leaned forward, making sure that Eadric was looking directly into her eyes before speaking.

“I must apologize for ‘Ice. He does tend to get carried away when questioning prisoners. He should have used a knife. Biting is so unsanitary. You might die of some hideous infection long before we’ve finished our chat.”

The Warlock suddenly realized he’d read the entire situation wrong. The Death Knight wasn’t the scariest person in the room; the woman was. She was in control. He’d dismissed her as the “good” interrogator; the sympathetic counter to cajole out information with honeyed words and a pretty face while the Blood Elf made threats and broke a few fingers. But now he saw that she was actually the larger threat. The Death Knight was acting as one would expect his kind to behave. The woman did not have that need to inflict pain, though. She wasn’t physically driven to harm others just to stay sane. If she stabbed him with a knife, it was because she wanted to. For Eadric, that was more terrifying than ‘Ice’s pseudo-seduction. He still wouldn’t roll over and give them what they wanted. He’d faced actual demons and won. Surely no Human could be worse than that?

“If you haven’t told us something of value within the next five minutes, I am going to start removing more bits from you.”

“Why wait? Go ahead and start removing my ‘bits’ now, for I’ll still tell you nothing.”

“Very well. ‘Ice?”

The Death Knight chuckled menacingly as he pulled a small knife from his belt. Eadric braced himself for the pain, but instead of stabbing him the Blood Elf handed the blade to the woman. Agent Romanoff stood up and walked around the table to stand on the Warlock’s other side. She made a show of playing with the knife in her hands.

“All we want to know is what your ‘friends’ are up to. We don’t care about you. You’re obviously not important enough for those allies of yours to even attempt to rescue you. They didn’t so much as give you a second glance when they fled the battle today. And yet you’re willing to let us hurt you to the point of insanity to protect them? Would they do the same for you? I doubt it.”

Eadric hated it when the enemy had a point. The throbbing of his maimed ear was proof enough that he really wasn’t as equipped to endure torture as he’d thought. He knew he’d be telling them everything within twenty minutes once they really got started on him. It wasn’t just the pain he feared. The gentle caress of the Blood Elf’s fingers was extremely disturbing on an entirely different level to the physical violence. Eadric dearly wished he’d been captured by people who preferred to use their fists to ask questions. He could handle being punched in the face. He didn’t think he could deal with the mix of agonizing mutilation and gentle touches, especially if the woman was going to smile pleasantly at him throughout the whole thing.

He screamed as the Blood Elf suddenly flicked his injured ear. The pair were giving him expectant looks, awaiting his decision. The Warlock thought about what Foulhorn would do to him for betraying their plans. The Satyr was a true zealot and would continue with his mission regardless of what planet he found himself on or how many enemies tried to stop him. Eadric knew his master would not hesitate to punish him for being captured alive regardless of whether he talked or not. There was no such thing as ‘mercy’ for a cultist. He looked between the smiling woman and the Death Knight. His choice was simple: reveal all now, or let them cut him up first.

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Ten pairs of eyes stared at the monitor displaying a video feed from the interrogation cell. Tony had snuck into a vacant room and appropriated the computer as soon as the debriefing had ended. It hadn’t taken long for the other Avengers and Azerothians to filter into the room as well. Everyone wanted to know what the Warlock had to say, and each group was curious to see what sort of interrogation technique Natasha and ‘Ice would employ. The Black Widow tended to let her subject think they had the upper hand and allow them to gloat until she’d gotten enough information out of them. ‘Ice, on the other hand, was very hands-on with the breaking of bones and slicing of flesh. It seemed that the pair was leaning more towards ‘Ice’s style of questioning.

“You know, this is the first time I’ve wished the audio wasn’t such high quality. The sound of that Death Knight purring about ‘delicious suffering’ is going to give me nightmares.”

Several heads nodded in agreement with Clint’s statement. Rhewi eyed the monitor with a look of distaste on her canine face.

“It’s creepy. Beyond creepy. I honestly don’t know if the Blood Elf is going is going to stab the prisoner or kiss him.”

“Probably both. ‘Ice likes to play mind games, and most men get freaked out when the guy breaking their fingers starts making out with them at the same time.”

All eyes turned towards Harvist as she spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. The Tauren didn’t seem to think her friend was doing anything unusual to the prisoner. Bruce cleared his throat and dared ask what everyone was suddenly wondering.

“He wouldn’t…I mean, he’s not going to, to take things further than just kissing, is he?”

Harvist seemed confused at first, but then her eyes widened in realization of what Bruce actually meant. She stood at her full height and looked down upon the Avengers with a mortified expression on her face.

“NO! By the Earthmother, No! ‘Ice is guilty of many things, but he’d never violate anyone like that. I’d permanently kill him myself if he tried.”

The Avengers were relieved to learn that there was at least one line the torture-loving Death Knight wouldn’t cross. A sudden agonized scream snapped everyone’s attention back to the monitor. Even the Horde contingent winced as ‘Ice spit a bloody chunk of cartilage onto the stainless steel table. Tony gave voice to what most were thinking.

“HE BIT HIS EAR OFF! He actually BIT a chunk out of the prisoner! And…oh, god, he’s licking the blood off his lips. Now that’s disgusting.”

“’Ice be enjoyin’ dis just a little too much. He don’t usually sink his teeth inta da prisoners.”

‘Shido leaned forward for a better view as the interrogation continued. The Warlock’s face betrayed his emotions, and he looked terrified. The Azerothians were somewhat disappointed that their enemy was breaking so soon. The Warlock apparently wasn’t as devoted to his cause as he should have been. Most cultists would laugh in the face of torture and spout propaganda about how the end is near and only the true believers will ascend and know true power. Their prisoner hadn’t once done any of the usual insane raving. One little bite to his ear and the man was ready to spill everything he knew.

“And here he goes! Everyone pay attention to the bad guys’ crazy plan.”

Pay attention they did. By the time the Warlock was finished telling his captors about the Satyr’s grand scheme, there were a lot of raised eyebrows. It really was a ridiculous plot to take over the world. It would never work. That didn’t mean a lot of people wouldn’t die in the attempt, however. As Natasha and ‘Ice thanked their captive and left the interrogation cell, the group watching the monitor headed off to meet their teammates. Agent Romanoff was scolding the Death Knight when the others found them.

“I still can’t believe you actually bit a chunk out of his ear. Biting was not part of our strategy.”

“It worked, didn’t it? You forbade me from stabbing him, so I needed a different method of inflicting pain. The look on his face was well worth it.”

“You need therapy. That is not how we treat prisoners.”

The pair gave Steve an unimpressed look as their teammates joined them in the hallway. Harvist grimaced and pulled a handkerchief from her pocket. ‘Ice looked confused as she handed it to him.

“You’ve got…Warlock on your chin, still.”

The Death Knight raised an eyebrow, but obligingly wiped way the remaining blood from his face. When he attempted to hand the handkerchief back to Harvist, she was adamant that he keep it. The group discussed what they’d learned from the interrogation, silently agreeing to not mention The Ear Incident. They’d nearly reached the elevator when the alarm sounded.

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Eadric glared down at what had once been part of his right ear. He hadn’t moved an inch since his two captors departed to inform their associates of what he’d revealed. Foulhorn was going to kill him. It didn’t matter than their plans wouldn’t be hampered by the enemy knowing their ultimate goal. The Satyr was vengeful creature who did not suffer failure, and Eadric had failed. He’d failed to die before the enemy captured him, and he’d failed to keep his mouth shut under questioning. His life was forfeit. Unless…

The Warlock’s eyes flicked between his bound hands and the bloody lump of cartilage. Perhaps the Death Knight did him a favor by biting his ear off after all. Eadric smiled sinisterly as he gasped the chunk of ear in his hand. The blood was still wet; good. Very carefully, he began to draw a design on the table. Once finished he focused his complete attention on the symbol and began to chant in a guttural language. There was a flash of green flame as he finished reciting the ritual, and a small Imp demon stood on the table in front of him. The Warlock smiled.

“Release me.”

The Imp did as ordered, melting the chain that connected its master’s wrists to the table. Hands free, Eadric used the rough edge of a half-melted chain link to rip a hole in the flesh on his forearm. He quickly drew a larger version of the symbol on the floor, and repeated his ominous chanting. He kept glancing at the door, expecting guards to rush in and try to stop him at any moment, but no one came. Fools. They’d dismissed him as helpless, and they would suffer the cost of that assumption. He addressed the motley assortment of demons that he’d summoned to aid him.

“Come, my minions, for it is time to seek freedom. Destroy all who stand in my way.”

The Infernal, a large demon whose body appeared to be constructed of a series of flaming green-tinted boulders, smashed through the wall surrounding the metal door. The guards standing outside were dead before they even realized anything was wrong, smashed by a pair of massive stone “hands” and the heavy metal doorframe. The demons poured out of the cell, their master following closely behind. An alarm sounded as they rounded a corner and came face-to-fangs with several S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents. The Felguard, a blue-skinned humanoid demon wearing red and gold armor, sliced the three Agents in half with a single stroke of its massive battleaxe.

A bell chimed as a door at the far end of the hallway slid open to reveal a group of armed and armored Agents. The little Imp immediately started hurling fireballs at the Humans as the Infernal charged. Bullets ricocheted off the demonic stone body without so much as scratching it. The Agents were forced to scatter as the living battering ram ploughed into the elevator. There was no time to regroup for the Felguard was right behind the Infernal, axe swinging down to split one Agent in half lengthwise. The Fel Hound came on the heels of the axe-wielding demon, its fang-lined jaws crunching through an armored thigh. The screaming drowned out the demon’s growls.

One Agent managed to duck past the first three demons and aimed his weapon at the Warlock. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, a lavender-skinned Succubus stepped in front of him. She smiled and blew the Agent a kiss, then gently pulled the weapon from his hands. The man was helpless as the attractive female demon enthralled him. She smiled seductively, tilting her horned head to the side as she removed the body armor from his torso. The Agent took no notice of the bat-like wings or hooved feet; he had eyes only for her beautiful face. The Succubus giggled as she plunged a clawed hand through his chest. The Agent fell to the floor, dead, as the demon ripped out his heart.

Eadric laughed gleefully as his minions killed the last of the armored Agents. He did so enjoy the sight of a man drowning in his own blood. If this was the best resistance his captors had available, he’d be out of the building in no time. A high-pitched shriek brought the Warlock out of his mental gloating. The Imp, which had been standing a few yards behind him, was dead. It had been crushed by a massive mace, which was held by a Draenei in golden armor. Behind the Paladin stood most of the warriors who had fought against him in the earlier battle. Eadric’s smile immediately dropped. He wasted no time in ordering his minions to attack. Hopefully he’d still able to slip away to freedom in the chaos of combat.

The Draenei Paladin raised his weapon as the demons drew near. Just as the Infernal was about to plough into him, he sent forth a wave of brilliant golden light which stunned the demons. His allies wasted no time in jumping into the fray while their enemy was momentarily incapacitated. The Infernal was knocked apart by the force of a Druid Bear charging into its stone body. The demon wasn’t dead, but it’d take a few moments to pull itself back together. The Felguard bellowed in rage and attempted to slash at the heroes, but its massive axe was stopped by Captain America’s shield. Before it could take a second swing, Mjolner smashed into the demon’s face with so much force it fell backwards onto its back. Golaugost leapt atop the fallen foe and delivered a fatal blow with his mace. The golden glow of the Light seared the demon’s flesh where the Paladin’s weapon touched it. The remaining demons backed away from the Draenei and the power of the Light. They instead targeted the non-Light-wielding heroes.

The Fel Hound lunged forward, tentacles extended in the hopes of snagging prey. Steve blocked one tentacle with his shield while Thor dodged the other. The Asgardian made sure to stay out of reach of that particular demon. Rhewi, Harvist, Clint and ‘Shido all took shots at the Fel Hound as it charged. Harvist’s spell struck the creature’s head, temporarily blinding it, while Rhewi’s magic trapped its feet in thick blocks of ice. The Archer and Hunter were quick to send a flurry of arrows at the stationary target. Within seconds the Fel Hound looked like a giant pincushion. It wheezed pitiably, then fell over dead. ‘Ice ran over and lopped off the demon’s head for good measure.

The Infernal finally managed to reform itself just as ‘Ice decapitated the Fel Hound. A boulder-like ‘hand’ slammed into the Death Knight and sent him flying into the wall with enough force to crack the cement blocks. The Blood Elf fell to the floor and did not rise. Steve and Thor jumped between the Infernal and their fallen ally. Between Mjolner and the Vibranium shield they managed to force the demon back. Arrows and spells chipped away at the fiery stone body, but it wasn’t enough to defeat the monster. Golaugost took a deep breath and gathered the Light into himself. His entire body glowed golden as he gave a fierce battle cry and charged the demon. The Infernal shattered into hundreds of stone shards as the Paladin’s mace struck true.

There was no time to relax after the largest demon went down, however. Burn roared in sudden pain as the Succubus lashed his thick hide with a bullwhip. The Bear lunged, catching her left wing with his massive paw. The claws shredded the delicate membrane, eliciting a shriek of anger from the demon. An arrow pierced her chest where the heart should be, but the Succubus did not fall. Instead, she tore the shaft from her flesh and lunged for the Troll. A second arrow penetrated her torso but did nothing to slow her momentum. Just as the wicked claws were within reach of the bow-wielders, she exploded. Bits of Succubus plastered the walls, floor, ceiling, and Avengers.

“My feathers!”

All eyes turned towards Harvist, who had shifted into her Moonkin form for the fight. The Druid was staring down at her gore-covered body in despair. Rhewi and Clint cautiously came out from behind Harvist. They’d used the Tauren’s body to shield themselves from the exploding Succubus. Steve lowered his shield, which had prevented any demon chunks from hitting his face, and turned to Thor. The Prince of Asgard was covered head to toe in gore, and he looked most displeased.

“Friend Hawkeye, it is admirable that you slew the demon, but could you not have warned us of the explosion?”

“Sorry, Thor. I didn’t think she’d splatter all over the place. Humans don’t blow up like that. They go to pieces, sure, but it’s not the same as this chunky, gooey mess.”

A groan drew everyone’s attention to the figure in black armor that lay prone on the floor. ‘Ice rolled onto his back and carefully sat up. Harvist shifted back into Tauren form and walked over to offer her friend a helping hand. The Death Knight accepted and was pulled back up onto his feet, although he did momentarily lean against the Tauren for support. ‘Ice shook his head and remained standing, but he still looked a little dazed from his encounter with the wall.

“Hey, where’s the Warlock?”

Clint’s question had everyone scrambling into action. They needed to find and re-capture the prisoner before he had a chance to summon more demonic minions.

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Eadric cautiously exited the elevator when the doors opened. He’d decided to put as much distance between himself and the so-called heroes as he could. Somehow he’d managed to reach the top floor of the building without incident. He needed to get outside, though, if he was going to escape. He slipped through a nearby door which had a sign depicted a simplistic image of a humanoid figure climbing stairs. A moment later the Warlock found himself standing on the building’s roof, a light breeze blowing his dark robe as the sun shone down upon him. A small aircraft sat stationary in the center of the roof. Perfect.

“Freeze, Merlin. There’s nowhere to run from here, unless you like skydiving without a parachute. Which is really not recommended.”

Eadric turned to face a familiar enemy. He remembered seeing the red and gold metal man flying around in the battle, destroying a significant quantity of the Scientist’s mechanical drones. It had been an interesting sight, but the Warlock wasn’t impressed. He had a trick up his sleeve that should take care of the flying warrior.

“You alone will not be sufficient to defeat me, metal man.”

“Hey, that’s Iron Man to you! And who said I was alone?”

A sudden shock of electric current sent Eadric to his knees. He looked up to see the red-headed woman standing behind him, a device on her wrist sparking with electricity. The Warlock growled, angry at himself for being so easily distracted. He kept falling for the same tricks. On the plus side, Agent Romanoff was one of two individuals he dearly wanted to rip apart. Now he had his chance.

“This…is going to be fun.”

Before either Avenger could react, Eadric transformed his body into that of a shadowy demon, complete with bat-like wings and sharp horns. He sent a bolt of dark magic at Iron Man while at the same time lashing out at Natasha with a clawed hand. The female Agent managed to dodge his attack and kick him in the face, but the blow was little more than an annoyance in his current form. He heard the crash of metal against metal as Iron Man was hit by his spell and flung into the aircraft.

“You can’t beat me like this, little girl. You’re not strong enough.”

Natasha rolled away from another slash of claws, but was unable to avoid being hit by a spell. She cried out as her body erupted with pain. Only years of training allowed her to keep moving away from the enemy. The pain didn’t fade. It continued pulse through her with every breath. She collapsed against the stairwell door as another bolt of dark energy hit above her head.

“I’m going to enjoy ripping you to pieces. It’s almost a pity your Death Knight friend isn’t here to share your fate.”

Just as he was about the cast another spell, something rammed into his side with great force. Eadric was knocked to the ground, but was instantly back on his feet. Iron Man stood between himself and his preferred victim.

“Did you forget about me, twinkletoes? I’m insulted. It is insulting to imagine you thought a single blast of whatever that was would take me out. Don’t you find that insulting, Widow?”

Eadric roared in anger and flew into the air, Iron Man close behind him. The Warlock hurled spells at his foe but failed to score a hit. Finally he grew so frustrated that he abandoned magical attacks altogether and twisted in the air, grabbing ahold of the red and gold armor. His powerful claws scrapped at the metal plates seeking to penetrate to the soft mortal flesh beneath. The two figures managed to stay airborne, locked together in a battle of strength that Iron Man suddenly wasn’t so certain he could win.

The Warlock managed to damage the repulsor in the left gauntlet, but he couldn’t get at the man within the armor. Deciding that escape was a higher priority than revenge, Eadric twisted his body and kicked Iron Man hard in the chest. His enemy spiraled the short distance down to the roof and once again crashed into the quinjet, this time taking a large chunk of wingtip off the aircraft. Eadric didn’t stay to see if Iron Man got back up. He turned and flew away from the building. Just as freedom seemed possible, the Warlock felt his energy waning. He screamed in terror as the demonic form faded back into his Human body. He’d forgotten how temporary the Metamorphosis spell was. He hadn’t allowed enough time to escape before the demon form wore off. Eadric cursed every blasted decision he’d ever made that had lead him to his current predicament as he plummeted head-first into the asphalt ten stories below.

Natasha watched the Warlock fall without emotion. The pain spell had worn off and she was able to stand under her own power, but she felt as if she’d just gone five rounds with the Hulk. She looked over towards the quinjet as Tony pried himself out of the wrecked wing.

“Well, we won’t be flying back to the Tower. I knew we should have parked the jet on the next building over and just walked.”

“We’ll need to borrow some of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s vehicles. I’ll inform Director Fury about the Warlock. You get to let the others know about the quinjet.”

“You give me all the fun jobs.”

“Would you rather tell Fury that you let his prisoner die? The prisoner that he specifically ordered stay alive and able to communicate?”

Tony paused, comparing his teammates’ reactions to the news about the damaged quinjet to Fury’s likely response to being told his prize prisoner had splattered all over the pavement. It was no contest, really.

“I’ll be with the team.”

The two headed into the building, parting ways to find their respective people and inform them of what had happened on the roof. Tony located everyone in a locker room, where Harvist and Thor were taking hot showers with their clothes on. After getting an explanation that involved the words “exploding Succubus” Tony decided he was glad he’d gone after the Warlock instead of handling the rampaging demons. He didn’t want to think about how difficult it would be to get demon-goo out of the suit’s joints. The team took the quinjet’s destruction pretty well, all things considered. Clint only shot three normal arrows at him.

Chapter Text

The quinjet’s destruction meant the group had to split between two vehicles for their return trip to the Tower. Bruce, Clint and Tony rode with the Alliance members, while Steve, Natasha and Thor rode with the Horde, with Leroy the Deathcharger tied to their back bumper. The Alliance car got lucky at a traffic light and managed to reach the Tower first. Not that it was a race, but there was a certain amount of satisfaction at beating the Horde.

The Alliance members seated themselves at the dining table as Bruce and Clint got out the first aid supplies. Burn and Rhewi watched with mild disinterest as Dr. Banner cleaned and bandaged some minor lacerations on the Archer’s bicep. Tony walked into the room as the last bandaid was stuck in place. Several steps in and the Engineer suddenly stopped, studied the floor in front of him intently for a few seconds, then looked up to glare at the room’s other occupants.

“Hey! Who’s been dripping blue paint all over my floor? Do you know how expensive this carpet is?”

The Druid and Mage suddenly sat up in their chairs, clearly alarmed. They looked towards the Paladin with worry, but the Draenei refused to meet their eyes as he studied the table beneath his fingers. Tony noticed the silent interplay.

“What? Why are you staring at him like that?”

“Draenei blood is blue.”

As Burn’s words sunk in the three Avengers also turned looks of concern towards the Paladin. Golaugost did not seem to be enjoying the attention.

“I am FINE.”

As the Draenei looked up to glare at the Night Elf, it became clear that no one believed him. He should have known better than to claim to be “fine” amongst a group of people who had a long track record of doing the exact same thing. Burn raised a questioning eyebrow at his friend, but Golau shook his head. The Draenei was stubborn, and had a history of resisting Healing for ‘minor’ injuries. Burn had learned to leave him be unless the Paladin was actually dying. The Avengers, however, did not know of Golau’s martyr streak and were not going to let him get away without medical attention. Bruce purposefully walked over, first aid kit in hand, and stared at the blue-skinned alien with a look that said he wasn’t going to leave the Paladin alone until he’d had proper medical treatment. Golau sighed in annoyance as the Doctor opened the first aid kit.

“Alright, take off your armor so I can see how bad the damage is.”

The Draenei looked as though he wasn’t going to cooperate. When he opened his mouth to argue Clint cut him off.

“No arguing, Blue Boy. Now strip.”

Golaugost grimaced as he removed the heavy plate from his torso. It wasn’t long before he was nude from the waist up, perched on a stool and leaning over the table so Bruce could get a clear view of his injuries. The Paladin was bleeding sluggishly from a long slash along his ribcage where an attack had gotten in under the edge of his armor. The wound wasn’t deep, but the location meant it was going to be a very uncomfortable recovery. There was also a large bruise blooming across Golau’s lower back from a blow he’d suffered. Bruce had just finished his preliminary examination when the elevator doors opened to admit the Horde contingent accompanied by Natasha, Thor and Steve. From the grumbling it appeared that Dan and Leroy had not wanted to be locked in a secure room without their master, and the Death Knight had been little help in convincing his pets to behave.

“I swear, if I find those zombies shuffling around the Tower, I WILL set them on fire and watch until there’s nothing left but ash.”

‘Ice looked horrified at Natasha’s threat. Assurances were quickly made that the pair of undead creatures would remain where they were until needed. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, for none of them wanted to stumble across a Ghoul in the bathroom or a Deathcharger in the kitchen. Even ‘Ice’s friends weren’t particularly fond of his “pets” lurking about. The Death Knight followed the others to the table, but suddenly stopped behind Golaugost. His cold blue eyes widened comically as he stared at the Paladin’s bare back. ‘Ice pointed at a spot just above the tail and glared as he spoke in an accusing tone.

“What are YOU doing with THAT tattooed on your skin, Draenei?”

Golaugost stiffened and inhaled sharply. He turned his head to glare at ‘Ice over his shoulder.

“It is none of your business, Death Knight.”

The elf’s ear twitched and his hands curled into fists. His murderous glaring was interrupted by Tony, who walked over to see what “that” was. The billionaire was soon joined by the rest of the Avengers, as well as Harvist and ‘Shido. Golaugost was obviously uncomfortable being scrutinized by so many people, but there was no way to leave without shoving humans out of the way and possibly hurting them

“Huh. So he’s got a tattoo. Granted, I didn’t picture him as the tramp stamp type, but I don’t get why you want to kill him for having a red and gold shield with a bird in the center on his back.”

‘Ice glared at Tony, his lips twisting into a sneer. He ignored the amused glances passing between Harvist and ‘Shido in favor of educating the ignorant Avengers.

“That tattoo is a symbol of the Sin’dorei! No Draenei has the right to bear it, let alone some holier-than-thou Paladin!”

Harvist reached out and put a hand on her friend’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him. The Blood Elf growled, but refrained from attacking the injured Draenei. Golaugost was holding very still, almost as if he hoped they would all leave him alone if he pretended he was part of the furniture. Natasha addressed him, thus forcing him to participate in the conversation.

“If your tattoo is a Blood Elf symbol, and you’re kind are enemies of the Blood Elves, then why do you have it?”

“Did you get really drunk before getting that tattoo? ‘Cause alcohol and tattoo parlors do NOT mix. Horrible mistakes are made with that combination.”

Golau lifted his head to glare at Clint before reluctantly answering Natasha’s query. He decided he may as well tell everyone instead of having them hound him for an explanation. He sighed in defeat.

“The tattoo is in honor of someone very special to me. This person bears a similar tattoo, except theirs is of a Draenei shield.”

The homicidal glare morphed into a look of surprised disbelief as ‘Ice processed the Paladin’s words. He wasn’t the only one to make the correct realization, but he was certainly the most shocked. When he spoke again, his voice had lost much of the hard edge it previously held.

“You…you’re romantically involved with a Blood Elf? Is the woman insane?!”

Golau shifted on his stool, turning to partially face the Death Knight. His sky blue eyes met the cold blue gaze with a harsh glare of annoyance.

“I never said it was a woman.”

The reply only served to render ‘Ice completely speechless. He hadn’t thought the Draenei swung that way. Paladins were always so aggravatingly traditional and stoic. And Draenei weren’t exactly known for being adventurous in their romantic endeavors. So far as ‘Ice was concerned it was unheard of for a Draenei to be involved with a Blood Elf, regardless of gender. Harvist shook her head and dragged ‘Ice to the far end of the table, forcing him to sit. Bruce finished tending Golaugost’s injuries as the Avengers went back to what they’d been doing before ‘Ice’s outburst. Natasha had one last question for the Draenei.

“What’s your boyfriend like that makes it worth the ‘forbidden love’ aspect? It can’t be easy to be together when you’re people are enemies.”

Golau gave the Black Widow a small smile before answering. His eyes seemed to glow brighter as he spoke of his beloved.

“His long hair is a fiery red, and I think him most attractive for his race. We first met as adversaries, but there was something about him. We clashed on the battlefield and I was impressed by his skill and endurance. I could not bring myself to land a killing blow, and he felt the same. Our relationship blossomed. Discretion is important for both our sakes, and our time together is fleeing. Despite the difficulties, however, we enjoy those stolen moments.”

“I think I’m going to be sick if you continue on with that drabble.”

Several pairs of eyes turned to glare at the Death Knight for interrupting. ‘Ice crossed his arms and commenced sulking as Golaugost spoke further about his lover.

“There are Neutral settlements on Azeroth where we can meet without risking our lives. Cross-Faction friendships are not so rare among adventurous souls, so we don’t draw overmuch attention. However, it is best to keep the intimate nature of our relationship private. My reputation would suffer little, but it would mean the end of his career should other Blood Elves see me publicly showing affection to Rage.”

“WHAT?! What name did you say?”

‘Ice’s voice was nearly a whisper after his initial cry. His eyes blazed with murderous fury as he stood and took a step towards the Draenei. Harvist said something that might have been a curse in her native tongue as she grabbed ‘Ice from behind and lifted him off the floor. The Death Knight’s struggles did nothing to free him from the Tauren’s firm grip. Alarmed by the outburst, Golaugost stood and assumed a defensive stance as he eyed the irate Blood Elf.

“He calls himself Rage, although he’s admitted it’s not his birth name. He’s a young Blood Knight, and is both honorable and loyal to his people.”

‘Ice made a noise that was between a growl and a scream as he intensified his attempt to break Harvist’s hold and attack the Draenei. Harvist tightened her grip further, just managing to keep the infuriated elf from escaping. The Tauren snorted in exasperation as she attempted to reason with her murderous friend.

“Calm down! Attacking the Draenei won’t change things. Do you want me to have to tell Rage you tried to beat up his boyfriend? Because I can assure you he’ll be upset, and I know you don’t want to hurt him. So stop struggling and accept that you have no say in this.”

By the time Harvist finished talking ‘Ice had stopped fighting her, although he was still fiercely glaring at Golaugost. Everyone else watched the altercation with a mix of concern, amusement and curiosity. Golaugost began picking up his discarded armor all the while keeping a wary eye on the growling Blood Elf. The tension was broken somewhat when Clint looked at Harvist and asked the question everyone was wondering.

“So how do you two know this Rage guy?”

The Death Knight hissed at the Draenei, ignoring Clint completely. Harvist rolled her eyes at her friend before answering the Archer with a long-suffering sigh.

“Believe it or not, Rage is ‘Ice’s baby brother. I sort of adopted him after we met in Thunder Bluff some years ago. He was a full Blood Knight already, but still very young for an elf. It was his first visit to Tauren lands and we struck up a friendship. Little did I know that taking that one Blood Elf under my wing would result in years of babysitting his overprotective drama-queen of an older sibling.”

Everyone, even Golaugost, looked surprised as Harvist finished speaking. Some were shocked to learn that ‘Ice had living family, while others were amazed at the previously unknown connection shared by the Paladin and Death Knight. Golaugost picked up the last bit of armor and began to head for the elevator. He paused briefly, giving ‘Ice a considering look before saying some parting words.

“Rage said his family would not approve of our relationship. He never told me names, although I was aware that he had a brother. For his sake, I shall refrain from ending your unholy existence. If you value your brother’s feelings, you will likewise cease hostilities towards me.”

The Draenei entered the elevator, presumably to go to his assigned room. Harvist slowly lowered ‘Ice to the floor and released her hold. The Death Knight sneered at the empty space in front of the elevator doors before returning to his seat at the table. Arms crossed, the Blood Elf glared at the table as his mind struggled to accept that his precious baby brother was dating a Draenei. The awkward silence that followed was broken by Captain Rogers.

“There’s one thing that I still want to know. What’s a Blood Knight?”

‘Ice didn’t bother to look at Steve as he answered, still distracted by his own thoughts.

“Sin’dorei Paladin. Eugh. I need a shower. The thought of Rage in an intimate relationship with that pompous blue spacegoat is enough to make me wish I’d stayed dead.”

‘Ice rose and stalked out of the room, followed closely by Natasha. The Death Knight still was not allowed to roam the Tower unsupervised, and the Black Widow was determined to keep him in sight. In his current mood ‘Ice just might track down the Draenei. A few drops of blue blood on the carpet had been upsetting enough. It was best to ensure that the walls did not end up coated in blue as well.

As the elevator doors closed, the room’s remaining occupants sought a new topic of conversation. Shishido smiled in a way that immediately put Harvist on alert. The Troll leaned on the table and, in her best ‘innocent’ tone of voice, asked a question of the Humans.

“So where do Humans go ta get a tattoo in dis city?”

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Kris eyed the cheap plastic clock that hung over the doorway leading to the back room. She still had four hours before closing time. The Artist sighed heavily and ran a hand through her spikey purple hair. She’d only had two clients the entire day, and they’d both been difficult. The first had wanted a massive back tattoo with lots of small details, but hadn’t wanted to spend more than thirty bucks. After almost an hour of “negotiating” he’d eventually settled on a small tribal design around his wrist. The second customer had been willing enough to pay, but had a severe needle phobia. She’d ended up not getting anything, although she was nice enough to leave a twenty dollar bill as an apology for wasting Kris’s time. It was a shame the woman couldn’t stand needles; Kris would’ve given her a discount for not being an asshole.

The Artist was contemplating closing early when she heard the bell over the front door ring. Expecting it to be yet another drunk seeking shelter from the evening’s light rain, her dark eyes widened in shock when she actually looked at who had just walked through the door.

“Huh. Somehow I thought this place would be bigger.”

Kris blinked a few times as she realized that Tony Stark was really there and not a hallucination brought on by boredom. She tore her eyes away from the billionaire as his companions entered behind him. She recognized Thor and Steve Rogers, but it took a moment to realize that the other two men were also Avengers. While somewhat disappointed at the noticeable lack of Black Widow, the other four individuals in the group more than made up for Natasha’s absence. The ‘minotaur’ and ‘werewolf’ were recognizable enough, but the other two weren’t like any creature Kris was familiar with. They had long, backswept ears but were otherwise nothing alike. Kris realized that all nine were staring at her expectantly. Her star-struck brain jolted into action and she jumped out of her chair to greet the unusual group.

“Uh…hi, welcome to ‘Krystal Ink’! I’m Kris. What can I do for you tonight?”

Stark walked over and gave her what must be his most dazzling public smile.

“I’m told you’re one of the most talented tattoo artists in the city. Thought we’d drop by and check to see if that’s true. We’ve got some guests from out of town who want to see what a real New York tattoo parlor looks like.”

“Um…well, I’m a good artist but if I’m the best in the area then it’s a very well-kept secret.”

Nine pairs of eyes looked around the small storefront, taking in the worn furnishings. The walls were covered in drawings, both to promote the artist and to hide the peeling paint. The place had definitely seen better days, but it was clean and the actual work area containing Kris’s tools of the trade was spotless enough to perform surgery. Her place might be shabby and small, but Kris prided herself on keeping it safe for her clients.

“You’re really good.”

Kris smiled at Captain Rogers’s compliment. He was studying the displayed artwork with interest, leaning in to get a closer look at some of the details. The others seemed to agree with the Captain, and the group decided this place would do for their purposes. Kris startled as Stark suddenly clapped his hands together.

“Right! Some of my friends want to commemorate the evening with celebratory tattoos. What are your usual rates? No, wait, it doesn’t matter. You know who I am? Of course you do. So you know money isn’t a problem. Just tell me how much when you’re done.”

Stark turned and sat down on the bench in the waiting area, took out his phone, and was soon engrossed in something on the screen. Kris turned towards the rest of the group.

“So who’s first?”

It turned out that only three of the group actually wanted tattoos, which was a little disappointing but still more business that she usually got. Clint Barton, whom she learned was Hawkeye, and the two long-eared ‘visitors’ actually got into a small argument over who got to get their ink done first. Dr. Banner got things under control by stating that their bickering was raising his blood pressure. Kris soon had a pink-skinned “Night Elf” in her chair since he was the only one who already knew exactly what he wanted. She was almost offended at the simplicity of his chosen design, but it wouldn’t do to insult a paying client. If Burn wanted what he called “Druidic Bear Markings” on his upper arms, it was not her place to question it. Never mind that the circle with a dot in the middle and crescent cradling it from below looked like some kind of happy cyclops, it was what the elf wanted. Kris couldn’t hold back her smile when she finished and Burn started peering gleefully into a mirror, admiring his new markings.

Clint and Shishido, whom Kris learned was a Troll, arm wrestled to determine who would go next. ‘Shido won. The Troll woman brought up a photo on Clint’s phone. Kris studied the image for a few moments, then brought out a sketchbook and began to design a tattoo. The end result was an impressive depiction of a very decorative longbow with arrows arranged in a fan shape behind it. ‘Shido had the design inked onto her left shoulder blade. The end result was something Kris was very proud of. Troll skin, it turned out, wasn’t exactly easy to tattoo.

When Clint finally got to sit in the chair, he showed Kris a photo of his own favorite bow and asked her to duplicate the basic design of ‘Shido’s tattoo. The Archer even asked for it to be put on his left shoulder blade as well. Apparently the two bow users were very fond of their weapon of choice. After putting the final touches on Clint’s tattoo, Kris sat back and stretched. She was surprised to note that it was now nearly two hours past her usual closing time. She stood and walked over to the cash register as Dr. Banner elbowed a sleeping Stark in the ribs. The billionaire awoke with a jolt.

“Huh? Wha? Oh, done with the ink? Right. How much? Actually…you know what, just take this.”

Stark reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out what looked like a credit card. He handed it over while typing something into his phone. Kris stared in confusion at the card, noting that it said “Stark Industries” and had an account number, but said nothing else. Stark finished tapping at his phone and put it away.

“Okay, so you can use that just like a regular card. It’ll work anywhere that takes credit cards. Don’t lose it. I’ve had J.A.R.V.I.S. load it with what should be a fair payment for tonight. We’ve gotta run. Cities to save and villains to vanquish and all that.”

The Avengers and their strange friends were out of the door before Kris had a chance to ask any questions about the card. She wondered how much a man like Stark thought was a ‘fair price’ for ink. Most people tended to severely underestimate the cost of artwork. As she flipped the “Closed” sign on the door and locked up, her cell phone buzzed with an incoming text. Kris noted the unknown sender’s Restricted number suspiciously as she read the message.

“The current balance on your Stark Card is $5,000. Buy a can of paint and do something about that bench. It’s murder to sit on.”

There was no signature, but Kris didn’t one. She leaned against the wall for support and wondered if the past several hours had been real. Things like this simply didn’t happen to people like her. She looked at her phone again. The message was still clearly displayed. Kris slowly smiled and looked around her small store. It looked like her redecorating plans were finally going to become reality.

Chapter Text

Natasha had awoken Clint earlier than was decent that morning, told him he was on Blood Elf babysitting duty for a few hours, shoved him into ‘Ice’s room, and departed to get a shower and a nap. Clint had stood just inside the doorway and blinked as his sleep-addled mind caught up to Nat’s orders. He looked over at the bed where the blonde elf lay sprawled across the mattress. The Archer narrowed his eyes as he observed a distinct lack of movement; the elf wasn’t breathing. Clint cautiously approached, reaching out with one hand to poke the “sleeping” Death Knight in the ribs. Just as his finger was about to make contact with the chilled skin, a strong hand shot up and wrapped around his wrist. The icy blue eyes were now open and glaring.

“Has no one ever told you to let the dead rest in peace?”

Startled, Clint jumped back, yanking his arm out of ‘Ice’s grasp in the process. He returned the Death Knight’s glare. ‘Ice wasn’t actually a corpse, even if he wasn’t exactly “alive” anymore, either. ‘Ice rolled over on to his back and stretched like a cat, apparently not caring if Clint had a snappy retort. He didn’t, but there was no need for the elf to know that. ‘Ice stood up, throwing off the light blanket that had been covering him, and faced Clint with a haughty demeanor. The Archer quickly covered his eyes, mock-gagging in revulsion.

“Dude! It is way too early in the morning to be showing off your undead elf junk! Put some pants on before I go blind!”

‘Ice chuckled and smirked as Clint continued to make a show of being offended at his nudity. He enjoyed toying with the delicate sensibilities that Humans usually displayed in regards to naked flesh. The Sin’dorei were not nearly so prudish, and the Scourge cared even less about such unnecessary things as clothing. Just as the elf was about to taunt Clint verbally, a familiar tusked face appeared in the open doorway.

“What ya be doin’ to my bow buddy, ‘Ice? I heard da cries from all da way down da hall.”

Clint smiled gratefully as the Troll entered the room. Surely she’d help him get the elf back into his clothes. Shishido smiled at Clint, then made a show of appraising ‘Ice’s naked body with her eyes. The Blood Elf made no effort to hide himself from her prying gaze. In fact, he almost seemed to be enjoying the attention. ‘Ice knew he was attractive and wasn’t afraid to flaunt his form to anyone who happened to be around.

“Why ja lookin’ so smug, ‘Ice? Ya got nothin’ ta brag about from what I see. Now Troll men, dey REALLY have somethin’ ta show off, if ya know what I mean. Maybe I find you one to compare when we get back home. Show you how little you got ta offer.”

Clint laughed as the smirk vanished from ‘Ice’s lips. The Blood Elf seemed stunned that his friend would say such a thing. His long ears drooped as he gave ‘Shido a wounded look. Gathering what was left of his pride, the Death Knight straightened his shoulders and stomped into the bathroom. ‘Shido and Clint both cackled at his indignant retreat. ‘Ice really was like a cat; he loved to laugh at others, but he hated when the joke was on him. Clint eyed the closed bathroom door thoughtfully, arms crossed over his chest.

“Hey, ‘Shido…do Death Knights actually need sleep, or was he just messing with Nat with the whole ‘sleeping in the nude’ thing?”

The Troll cocked her head to one side as she considered the answer. While she’d been around ‘Ice for a while, she wasn’t an actual Death Knight expert. There were a lot of things that she thought were due to his having been a prissy elf in life. He enjoyed luxury of all kinds, even though his body no longer required fine foods or silk sheets. The exotic perfumes she could let slide since his natural scent was unmistakably of death. No one wanted to smell that.

“I think…dey don’t need sleep like da living, but dey can sleep if dey want to. Actually, providin’ da body is whole enough, a Death Knight be able ta do anything a living person can. Except make babies. Dey be technically dead, after all.”

Clint wrinkled his nose at the thought of ‘Ice surrounded by tiny screaming elf babies. Just as well he apparently couldn’t father children; he didn’t seem like the paternal type. The Archer smiled to himself as he pictured ‘Ice staring in horror as he tried to change a dirty diaper. Somehow Clint didn’t think the elf would react well to the various disgusting substances that small children seemed to love smearing on their parents.

“So how long do you think he’s going to sulk in the bathroom? He didn’t take anything in with him, and I doubt he’s got any clean clothing stashed in there.”

‘Shido shrugged and looked around the room for a moment. She crouched down and pulled a worn black satchel from under the bed. Clint raised an eyebrow as she upturned the bag and dumped its contents all over the mattress. There was no way that much stuff fit into one small satchel. He was about to ask how that worked when something odd caught his eye.

Clint poked at the lump of tan cloth. He glanced at ‘Shido, who was still digging through the bottomless satchel and paying no attention to him. When he held it up for a better look, the lump proved to be some kind of suede dress. It had two parts; a v-shaped “collar” and an ankle-length skirt. The edges were embroidered with a tribal design in happy pastel colors. The Archer wondered why anyone would carry something like this around with them. He set the dress aside and picked up the item that had been lying under it. He blinked as he stared at the next discovery. If the dress was unusual, then the headband with pink bunny ears was downright absurd.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Hawkeye?”

Clint gave a startled yelp as he spun around to face the Troll. He quickly hid the bunny ears behind his back before remembering that they belonged to ‘Ice, thus she wouldn’t judge him for handling them. He tossed the ears back onto the bed, where they landed between two bouquets of delicate pastel flowers that looked unnaturally fresh.

“Do I even want to know why ‘Ice has a pastel-embroidered skirt and a pair of pink bunny ears?”

“Dat be from Noble Garden. It’s a holiday celebratin’ springtime in Azeroth. ‘Ice bought da robe an’ ears to wear to da party.”

“Huh. Doesn’t really seem like his style.”

“You get ta know ‘Ice better, you see he be not so bad. Dat elf got a pet Sprite Darter, an’ those just be tiny faerie dragons. Trust ‘Shido on dis, mon. ‘Ice be soft on da inside once ya get past da skull armor and homicidal urges.”

Clint’s face screwed up in an expression of skeptical confusion. The Troll seemed sincere, but it was hard to imagine someone who’s first instinct was to commit mass murder as having a fuzzy center. The mental image of the Death Knight charging into battle wearing his dress and rabbit ears invaded the Archer’s mind. He shook his head in an attempt to clear that somewhat disturbing imagery. As Clint looked at the pink headband , a mischievous smile slowly spread across his lips.

“Hey, ‘Shido. I have an idea.”

The Troll’s face soon bore a matching smile. Two sets of eyes twinkled in mutual amusement as a plan was made.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Breakfast was yet another example of Azerothian cuisine. Burn and Harvist, under the supervision of Steve and Agent Coulson, had managed to cook up something that was almost normal; Herb-Baked Eggs, “Buzzard Bites” (made from chicken), Spice Bread, and Crunchy Spider Legs (which substituted crab in place of the spiders, much to the relief of the Humans). Steve handled the drinks. He’d been mildly horrified to learn that neither Druid knew what “coffee” was. He proceeded to educate them about the importance of the hot beverage, and how to properly brew it. Orange juice and milk were also set out, but the Avengers needed their essential two cups of dark-roasted bliss in the mornings. Facing each other without coffee didn’t bear thinking about.

By the time the last of the food was placed on the table most of the Tower’s occupants had staggered into the dining area. Tony was absent as usual, as were ‘Ice and Clint. Shishido dropped down from an overhead air duct just in time to snatch the plate of eggs out of Thor’s hands. When Clint followed a moment later, Natasha narrowed her eyes at the Archer. Clint quickly assured her that he had not abandoned his guard duty.

“I didn’t leave him alone! He’s on his way up, and J.A.R.V.I.S. is monitoring him. He’ll be here any second.”

Clint had barely finished speaking when the elevator doors opened to reveal, not the expected Death Knight, but Director Fury. The man held a newspaper in one hand, his face carefully blank in a way that meant certain doom for whoever had pissed him off. Even the Azerothians recognized the danger in that stony expression. Fury strode purposefully across the room and slammed the newspaper down on the table.

“Would one of you care to explain why the gossip section is filled with photos of the Avengers and a group of apparent aliens visiting a tattoo parlor? This is all over the internet! You were supposed to be keeping our ‘guests’ confined to the Tower, not traipsing around the city getting matching tattoos!”

The Avengers exchanged glances. No one wanted to be the first to answer. Finally, Steve broke the silence.

“Technically, our alien guests were still under proper supervision by multiple Avengers. There were no unfortunate incidents, and the press coverage looks mostly positive if the rest of the reports are like that article. Also, ‘Ice stayed in the Tower. We all know he would have caused the most problems with the public after his zombie army stunt. He actually killed people, whereas the others are just…very strange looking.”

Fury was unimpressed with Steve’s attempt at defending his team’s decision to take some of the Azerothian’s out of the Tower. The Director’s one-eyed glare was so intense that even the battle-hardened Avengers were reluctant to meet his gaze. The man was usually gruff and unpleasant, but this morning he was truly furious. The social media explosion surrounding the Avengers and Aliens getting tattoos must’ve gotten out of hand for the Director to be this angry. The Human heroes began to regret their choices of the previous night.

“All of you will remain in this Tower until we get a handle on the P.R. situation. Not everyone thinks it’s cute that you got matching tats with possi-“

Fury’s words suddenly cut off as an expression of surprised disbelief crossed his face. Everyone turned to look, curious to know what could possibly derail the Director mid-scolding. Many eyebrows were raised at the sight of ‘Ice strolling into the room wearing a pair of pink bunny ears on his head and a pastel-embroidered tan dress that revealed far too much of his pale torso. Secured at either hip was a fresh bouquet of pastel flowers. The Blood Elf ignored the stares as he sat down in an empty chair and reached for the crunchy crab legs. The moment of silence was broken by the stifled snickers of Clint and ‘Shido. Fury’s good eye twitched as he addressed the alien that, up to that point, he had considered the most dangerous.

“Dare I ask why you are wearing that particular outfit?”

“Someone stole my armor. The Noblegarden dress was the only spare clothing I’d packed.”

‘Ice glared at Clint and ‘Shido in a way that told all present exactly who was responsible for his current clothing predicament. The two culprits sported matching mischievous grins as they continued to giggle. The Blood Elf sniffed disdainfully, his left eartip twitching in agitation. Bruce decided to chime in with the obvious question.

“I understand putting on the dress if it’s the only thing you have to wear, but why put on the ears?”

‘Ice gave the deceptively mild-mannered scientist an imperious look, as if asking such a thing were the height of stupidity for the answer must surely be obvious.

“You can’t wear Noblegarden garb without the bunny ears. It simply is Not Done. I’d just as soon walk around naked.”

Harvist sighed loudly. She was accustomed to her elven friend’s antics, but sometimes he was too…’Ice…even for her. The other Azerothians returned to their breakfasts having decided to ignore the prissy Blood Elf for the time being. ‘Shido and Clint finally quieted their snickering as Agent Coulson fought back a smile of his own. Director Fury looked torn between reprimanding his prankster Agent, and demanding someone get the shameless elf some proper clothing. He was about to do both when Tony finally stumbled into the room, still half-asleep and oblivious to everything save the siren scent of fresh coffee. The Engineer dropped heavily into the empty chair across from ‘Ice and reached for a mug.

Two cups of coffee later Tony was finally awake enough to notice the details of his surroundings. The first thing he noted was that Director Fury had taken a seat at one end of the table and was nursing his own cup of coffee. The second thing to catch Tony’s eye was the ridiculous outfit adorning the blond Elf across from him.

“Wait…did I sleep through Easter?”

Before ‘Ice could ask what “Easter” was, Tony continued.

“Actually, those pink rabbit ears really accentuate your face. Makes the long eyebrows seem less ridiculous. And is that a dress? With flowers? You’re looking exceptionally pretty this morning. Did you wake up and decide to get in touch with your feminine side? ‘Cause you’re rockin’ the flower girl look.”

As Tony continued to ramble about how “pretty” and “feminine” the Blood Elf looked, ‘Ice’s cold expression grew increasingly glacial. Just as the Engineer began to ask if ‘Ice had painted his fingernails, too, a flowery bouquet smacked him directly in the face. With a soft ‘pop’ a small pink rabbit appeared on the table in the spot where Tony had been leaning over his coffee mug. The Avengers cried out in alarm at the sudden transformation of their teammate. Clint blinked twice as he processed what had happened, then burst into uproarious laughter.

The laughter was interrupted by a faint tinkling noise, like the ringing of a tiny bell. Immediately after the odd sound, Tony the Rabbit hopped forward to reveal a brightly colored egg. Steve leaned over and cautiously prodded the egg with one finger. A very confused yet amused Bruce spoke his observations before dissolving into a giggling fit of his own.

“Did…did Tony just…oh my god, Tony laid an egg!”

The Azerothian’s were just as amused as the Avengers at this turn of events. ‘Ice was smirking smugly, brandishing his magic bouquet as if it were a powerful weapon. Golaugost, in a rare moment of mirth, decided to join in the conversation. Unfortunately, the Draenei’s sense of humor was rusty from disuse.

“You should take care to protect your teammate in his helpless state. Worgen are known for chasing rabbits.”

Golau’s attempt at a joke fell flat. Rhewi was particularly unamused at the insinuation that she couldn’t control her instincts. She reached over and snatched the flowery bouquet from ‘Ice’s hand, then forcefully hit the Draenei atop his horned head. Now there were two pink rabbits hopping around on the table, leaving a trail of colorful eggs in their wake. Even Fury was perilously close to cracking a smile at that point. Just as everyone was beginning to quiet down and catch their breath, the two bunnies hopped near one another, lightly brushing against each other as they crossed paths. There was a louder tinkling noise, a puff of pastel smoke, and the appearance of a baby bunny on the table. The two adult rabbits looked shocked at this turn of events. The Humans were equally amazed.

“HOW?! But! They’re both boys! They barely touched each other! How the hell did they make a baby?!”

Clint’s astonished outburst gave voice to the question on everyone’s mind. The Azerothian’s were unfazed, but the Humans were sporting an array of facial expressions that generally conveyed highly-amused shock. Director Fury was the most complex with his expression being a combination of surprise, amusement, exasperation, and frustration at wondering how his life became a circus. It seemed the Director had reached his limit for Avenger Shenanigans, for he suddenly stood and yelled for everyone’s attention.

“QUIET! That’s enough! Turn those rabbits back into their proper bodies and clean up these eggs before they start hatching!”

Rhewi snapped her fingers and the pink rabbits immediately regained their natural forms. Golaugost promptly fell off the table, taking several plates of food with him. Tony, still atop the table and looking slightly dazed, sat back and stared at the baby bunny that was currently nibbling a slice of spice bread. The Engineer reached forward to softly pet the tiny rabbit, only for it to disappear in a puff of pink smoke as soon as his finger touched the soft fur.

“The eggs will disappear as well in time. It’s all part of the holiday magic. Although I think we’ve had enough of that for now. ‘Ice, please secure your ‘bunny shakers’ and refrain from turning anyone else into a rabbit.”

Harvist took charge of her Blood Elf as Steve lead the Avengers in cleaning up the mess breakfast had become. They’d just gotten the last of the dishes rinsed and placed neatly in the dishwasher when the alarm sounded. J.A.R.V.I.S. was quick to display the available video footage of the ongoing attack.

“Sir, a serpentine adversary is assaulting civilians with what appears to be magic. Local authorities are unable to stop the attack.”

The Avengers scattered to grab their gear as quickly as possible before heading for the roof and the waiting quinjet. The Azerothians, having recognized the Naga Priestess as an enemy from their own world, insisted on joining the fight as well. Fury reluctantly allowed it after having to face the reality that none of his own people could reliably counter whatever “magic” the snake-woman was using.