Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
✧ ✧ ✧
CARS, PICK-UP TRUCKS AND SUVS were parked all along the perimeter of the massive crater, the sounds of a boisterous party emanating from the pit. Inside, locals sat on lounge chairs, drinking beers from coolers as they laughed and talked, all the while watching the centre of the crater, where large men had formed a line to take a turn with the mysterious object embedded in the ground.
One by one the men attempted to lift it, struggling before eventually giving up and stepping aside to let the next one have a go at it, as other townies stood on the sidelines and snapped pictures with their phones.
They heard an approaching rumble, then cleared a path as a large pick-up truck backed its way down the crater's edge. An eager townie hopped out the passenger side and pulled a thick chain down from the back of the truck. He fastened one end around the foreign object, then securely affixed the chain to the bumper and rear of the undercarriage.
"This'll do it!" he yelled to the driver. "Okay, let 'er rip!"
The townsfolk looked on as the pick-up's engine roared, then strained, its wheels spinning futilely, until finally the rear of the truck along with the backwheels and axels broke off and went flying.
People dove out of the way, ducking down for safety as the pick-up driver stuck his head out of the window. The elderly man – with greyed hair styled back and aviator glasses on his face – looked back, shocked. A silent moment, then the townsfolk laughed as the party recommenced.
They didn't notice as on the crater's edge above them an imposing government vehicle pulled up to a stop. A man in a suit climbed out and peered down at the boisterous gathering below, his eyes fixed on the object at the centre of the crater.
Agent Coulson stared down at the object, which glowed with an otherworldly blue energy – Mjolnir. He pulled out his phone.
"Sir,we've found it."
✧ ✧ ✧
S.H.I.E.L.D HQ. Washington,D.C.
"Good. We'll move in immediately," The Director spoke into his cellphone, pacing the length of his office toward the window overlooking the city; you stood behind the sofa, clutching the backrest with a tight grip as you kept your gaze steeled on your godfather, trying to listen as closely as you could, "I want a camp set up by sundown."
