IN A SQUARE outside a museum in Stuttgart, Germany, an unassuming man carrying a walking stick strode by a string quartet. The man meandered about a bit, taking in the evening, enjoying the night and the music. He surveyed the museum and walked around its perimeter, admiring its architecture and expressing interest in the evening’s event. He eventually made his way around to the rear. Once he was sure no one was looking, he slipped inside through a back entrance.
Inside the museum, a speaker was delivering a science lecture. The man who had sneaked in appeared at the top of the grand staircase behind the speaker and began to descend. As he stepped down the stairs, his long coat and walking stick morphed into the unmistakable battle armor and staff of Loki the Trickster.
Loki was on the run, but he still couldn’t resist using his powers on the inhabitants of Midgard. Loki began firing bolts of energy from his staff every which way. Then he stepped out the front doors as gracefully as he’d entered.
A guard, hearing the disturbance but not knowing who or what had caused it, raced up to Loki as he exited the museum. He was intent on stopping him.
“Kneel!” Loki commanded the guard.
The guard collapsed onto his knees before Loki.
Suddenly it appeared as though Loki was multiplying—dozens of him filled the square.
“All of you, kneel!” He shouted to the people in the square.
Everyone dropped to their knees, except for one man who stood out conspicuously in the crowd.
“I do not kneel to men like you,” the old man said.
“There are no men like me,” Loki replied.
“There are always men like you,” the old man retorted.
Loki lifted his staff and pointed it at the man in disgust. He fired a bolt of energy. Then, suddenly, seemingly from nowhere at all, a loud clang reverberated. Something swooped by in a blur and ricocheted off of the energy stream—deflecting Loki’s blast and keeping the old man from harm, then swiping Loki across the head as it swooped back toward its wielder.
It was the shield of Captain America, and it had been a very long time since it had been used to fight the good fight.
“Ah, the Super-Soldier from the Great War,” Loki said.
“It wasn’t that ‘great,’” Captain America replied flatly.
“Mine will be,” Loki said evilly.
Meanwhile, in the air above, Natasha was piloting the Quinjet. Her objective was to stun Loki with a blast, but the square was too crowded. She needed it to be cleared before she could get a clean shot.
“I’ll get this one,” Cap said, facing down Loki.
The two began to spar all over the square, Loki dodging the Captain’s shield, Cap bouncing back every time Loki dealt him a blow. All the while, Natasha attempted to fix a target on Loki, but he darted around far too quickly to be locked down.
Troublingly, Natasha’s radio filled with static. No, it wasn’t static, it was…heavy metal music? Then she realized what was happening.
“Hello, Tony,” she said.
Iron Man zoomed past the Quinjet and swooped down to the square, where he began to fire repulsor blasts at Loki. Loki persisted, but Tony trained his repulsor ray on Loki’s staff and blasted it out of his hand. The staff skittered down the square. Still, Loki would not relent. He continued to battle both Captain America and Iron Man. But then, the latter descended into the square, hovered in front of Loki and transformed his armor to show that the suit was outfitted with every Stark Industries weapon imaginable—including some that no one else could even conjure in their wildest dreams.
Loki threw up his hands in defeat, an evil smile on his face.
“Good move,” Tony said, then he turned to the man with the shield.
“Mr. Stark,” Steve said.
“Captain.”