In the aftermath of the earlier incident—and compounded by the sudden arrival of the mysterious man now held in their custody—an emergency meeting was convened among the Avengers.
They were gathered around the long conference table in the Tower's briefing room, with an unmistakable tension in the air and unanswered questions in their heads.
Familiar faces sat in tense silence, each of them processing the implications of what they had witnessed. Among them was Doctor Stephen Strange, who, despite not being an Avenger, had deemed his presence necessary. The matter at hand involved magic, dimensional travel, and a recent surge of unnatural attacks—things that squarely fell within his domain.
Banner cleared his throat, drawing their attention. He lifted a hand to adjust his glasses, the faint glow of holographic displays reflecting off the lenses.
"Let me give a quick recap of what we know about the creatures so far," Banner began.
The room stirred almost immediately. Thor, Natasha, and Strange each raised a hand, prepared to interject, but Banner pressed on before any of them could speak.
"They first appeared roughly a week ago in a classified S.H.I.E.L.D. underground facility," he continued. "According to Fury's reports, the incident occurred during a dimensional splicing experiment. The objective was to harness the raw energy said to exist between dimensions." He paused briefly, tapping the console in front of him as images and data scrolled past.
"Initially, the experiment was considered a success. The rift was opened, stabilized, and monitored to determine how long it could be sustained. But before the team could shut it down safely, something crossed through."
The hologram shifted—distorted silhouettes, jagged limbs, forms that defied conventional anatomy of creatures known to man.
"A swarm of hostile monsters poured into the facility," Banner said grimly. "They overwhelmed security within minutes. S.H.I.E.L.D. lost nearly the entire base before the rift destabilized and collapsed." His voice lowered as he reached the final point.
"When the connection broke, it created a powerful magnetic backlash—essentially a dimensional vacuum. Every one of those creatures was pulled back to wherever they came from." He hesitated, then added, "That included the ones already killed by S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel." An uneasy silence followed the unsettling info.
Banner finally leaned back, folding his hands together. "That's where we stand," he said. "Questions?"
Banner gestured across the table. "Natasha."
She didn't bother raising her hand. "I already got my answer, but something about all that stuff with S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't feel right." She believed Fury wouldn't permit such an experiment without proper measures to mitigate the risk.
Her response made Banner pause mid-thought, his brows knitting together as his attention shifted instinctively to Thor.
Natasha had wanted to know the true purpose behind the experiment—but she didn't need it spelled out anymore. She knew better than most that there were very few ethical lines scientists weren't willing to blur when curiosity and ambition were involved.
"You men who call yourselves men of science, are so reckless when toying with the unknown," Thor said coolly. "Always chase the next breakthrough and call it modern science even if it turns out to be quite harmful to your people. Always seeking the next potential weapon of mass destruction." A beat. "Why?"
Banner opened his mouth, clearly scrambling to organize a careful, measured explanation—but Tony beat him to it.
"Why else?" Tony said casually, leaning back in his chair. "Because we can."
The bluntness of the answer earned a ripple of reactions as Thor frowned, clearly unsettled, his confusion plain as he glanced between Tony and Banner as though expecting clarification. Natasha's expression didn't change. Steve shifted in his seat with his jaw tightening, while Clint let out a low breath through his nose, unbothered.
"That aside," Banner said quickly, attempting to steer the conversation back onto safer ground, "the drive to discover the undiscovered—to push science to its limits—it's almost a curse that follows every man of science." The room fell quiet.
Several pairs of eyes lingered on Banner a little longer than they should. He wasn't wrong, but there was something unsettling in the faint spark of excitement behind his words. It was subtle, yet unmistakable to those who knew what unchecked curiosity could become.
For a brief moment, a similar thought crossed more than one mind: 'This is how things spiral in the minds of scientists, from a single thought—to creating some kind of nuke.' Then it passed.
Because it was Bruce Banner speaking, not Tony Stark. And that distinction mattered. Had Stark delivered the same line with that same glint of enthusiasm, the room would have fallen to a state of concern.
Clearing his throat, Doctor Strange broke the brief silence, folding his hands together as he drew everyone's attention back to the core issue.
"Those scientists likely opened an unstable gateway into the realm those creatures inhabit," Strange said with a calm voice, his tone was edged with concern. "But that doesn't explain why there was a second incident, right in the heart of New York City."
Banner nodded, considering it carefully. "In theory," he said, "the connection to that realm may still be… active. Probably not stable enough to hold permanently, but volatile enough to rupture elsewhere."
Tony straightened slightly at the far end of the table, fingers steepled as he analyzed the theory.
"That doesn't track," he said. "Once the original rift collapsed, the connection should've lost its potency. With no anchor, no sustained energy—portal closes. End of story."
"We don't know that for certain," Banner replied, uneasily aware of how thin his argument sounded.
Clint finally spoke up with his arms crossed. "So you're saying a portal could pop open anywhere. Anytime."
The thought weighed upon them as they recalled the earlier incident with the creatures.
"It could be a residual effect from the initial incident," Banner continued, pushing on despite the growing skepticism. "Or damage to the machine's system may have caused something like an unstable bridge—a tear lingering in the dimensional gap between our world and theirs."
But the more he explained, the more the holes in the theory became apparent. The logic felt off, patched together with assumptions and unknowns. Around the table, expressions ranged from concern to outright doubt.
They knew whatever had been unleashed that day in the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility, one thing was becoming painfully clear—
It wasn't finished with them yet.
Thor sat back in his chair with his arms crossed as he worked through everything that had been said.
"So you are telling us," he said slowly, "that an army of these creatures may be gathered on the other side of this bridge—wherever it exists—simply waiting for the chance to invade this realm?"
Bruce hesitated, fingers lacing together. "It's… a possibility," he admitted. "We can't confirm anything at the moment."
Tony leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Or," he added, "this weird, self-sustaining mess of a bridge doesn't stay in one place. It might be popping up in different locations on their side, the same way it's doing here."
Steve's eyes narrowed as he followed Tony's reasoning. Slowly, he nodded.
"That could explain the variety we saw," he said. "If the next breach opens somewhere else entirely, the next wave could be something worse. Bigger. Like that dragon the Hulk brought down from the sky—"
"Hmph." Tony cleared his throat exaggeratedly, fist pressed to his mouth. "Wyvern."
Steve blinked. Then turned toward him. "What?"
"They were wyverns," Tony said matter-of-factly. "Not dragons."
Steve stared at him, irritation flickering across his face. He held Tony's gaze for a long, deliberate second—then turned back to the table and continued as if the interruption had never happened.
"If this bridge opens near some manner of dragon settlement," Steve said pointedly, emphasizing the word, "then the skies themselves would be blackened by their wings."
Tony rolled his eyes, not even bothering to argue this time. Correcting Steve was clearly a lost cause.
Silence settled again, broken only when Tony shifted in his chair.
"What about our mystery guest downstairs?" he asked. "He showed up with them. If anyone has answers, it's the guy currently soaking up Avengers-level hospitality."
Strange nodded thoughtfully with his fingers steepled. He had been waiting for the conversation to arrive there. Whatever the man in containment was, the magical density surrounding him was unlike anything Strange had encountered in years.
"He claimed to be unfamiliar with the creatures," Steve recalled. "Said he didn't know what they were."
"He denied being their master," Thor added, his tone sounding like he wasn't so sure if the stranger had answered him truthfully. "I questioned him directly."
"Master, maybe not," Clint said, leaning back in his chair. "But he never denied leading them here." That distinction drew quiet attention. Steve exhaled, then pushed himself to his feet.
"Then it's time we hear it from him," he said.
He turned toward the exit, already moving out, still clad in his uniform but with his shield absent.
Tony rose with a faint smirk—alongsides Banner, Strange followed and Thor stood last.
Together, they made their way out of the room. Whatever answers waited below, they all knew one thing for certain—
The man in containment could provide the missing piece to this discussion. Several minutes later, the heavy doors slid open again.
Thor strode back into the briefing room carrying a clinking bundle of canned beer cradled in one arm, utterly unbothered by the gravity of the situation. He glanced around the table as if he'd merely stepped out for fresh air.
"Did I miss anything?" he asked.
Clint let out a short laugh and raised an arm in greeting. "I was starting to wonder where you disappeared to," he said. "You weren't on the screen, so I figured you got lost."
Thor answered by flicking a can through the air. Clint caught it without looking, the metal hissing as it popped open a second later.
Natasha glanced at the beer. "You realize we're in the middle of an interrogation, right?"
"This is my method of preparation," Thor replied simply, dropping into the seat at the far end of the table. The chair creaked under his weight.
He lifted another can and tilted his head toward her in a silent offer. Natasha didn't even look at it. She rolled her eyes instead, arms folding tighter across her chest, her attention fixed elsewhere.
Everyone's gaze followed hers to the large screen across the room.
The live feed showed the lower-level holding chamber—sterile, reinforced, lined with glowing containment led lights. Their guest laid at the center of it all, restrained yet unnervingly calm as he appeared to be deep in thoughts. Awaiting judgment.