Disclaimer: Are recognizable characters are trademark property of Marvel Comics, unless specified otherwise. All plot lines are inspired by Marvel Comics plot lines unless specified otherwise.

Prologue

I am Uatu, the Watcher.

It is my duty to observe the course of all existence on Earth, but never interfere with it. It is a task shared by my brethren across the universe, and even the multiverse. I am to simply watch events unfold, but I have already broken my vow of non-interference on a small number of occasions.

I have taken a…likeness to the Earth.

But today, an event of cataclysmic proportions rises in the human city of New York. A madman makes a stand for power, to rule mankind. I ponder if I should intervene here as well, but I soon see that there is no need for me to do so.

For today…is a day unlike any other the Earth has seen.

REBORN DARK PHOENIX

PROUDLY REPRESENTS:

919: EARTH'S MIGHTIEST HEROES

Chapter 1: Assemble! Part 1

*The Raft, 1 of 6 SHIELD superhuman prisons located worldwide. Five miles west of New York City*

0933 GMT/2:33 PM EST, 4 May 2012

"I'm assuming that everything is ready for the transport?"

"Yes. It is."

Two men walked down the reinforced halls of the Raft, leaving the prisoner sectors behind them, one slightly trailing behind the other. The first was a gray haired man in his mid-fifties, while still in good physical shape, wearing attire suited for a four star United States general, the name "Ross" on the tag under his medals. The second was a brunette man in his mid-thirties wearing a crisp formal suit and tie, his firearm hidden under his suit and a pair of sunglasses in his front pocket.

"You're making a very big mistake, General Ross," SHIELD Agent Phil Coulson said a minute later. "What you are hoping to do it going to backfire on you completely, I guarantee it. Director Fury has made it very clear that he is against you having custody of the man, and after the last incident with the US Army in Culver University-"

"Agent Coulson," General Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross interrupted with anger as he turned around, looking at Coulson. "No matter how much you try to convince me otherwise, I am not changing my mind. The Hulk's blood is property of the United States military, as is Banner's work. I don't care what you or Fury or SHIELD thinks on the matter; the World Security Council OK'd the request that we retake custody, so you can cancel your little plans to transfer him to the Cube or whatever it is you have planned. I am taking him, and that is final. End of discussion."

Phil Coulson kept his cool, maintaining his passive expression. "Experimenting on the Hulk, his gamma energy and on his blood is very dangerous," he said. "You've seen what's in the Cube, the psychopaths that have been created by radiation exposure and the like: Leader, Madman, the U-Foes, Zzzax…there are many other, mind you. A few of which, I should remind you, are results of your previous failed attempts to weaponize Dr. Banner's Hulk formula."

"Simple mistakes," Ross retorted.

"In which numerous people lost their lives," Coulson countered. "Each being a case in which there would have been possibly more casualties had it not been for the Hulk."

"The Hulk is a monster, Agent Coulson," the general replied as he continued walking down the halls, Coulson following him. "A monster that threatens lives, society and has been responsible for millions of dollars' worth of property in the country. Not to mention the damages and costs across the planet."

"Because your HulkBusters Corps never caused any damages either," Coulson replied with a dry chuckle, ignoring Ross's facial response. "But let me get this straight: you see what the Hulk has done, saying he's a destructive force and you want to replicate the process that created that?"

"The military potential locked in the Hulk's DNA is something that the American Armed Forces is not going to just throw away."

"I fail to understand why the United States would want such kind of power, knowing full well that there are many enemies of the nation out there that would see this as a very big threat. It's bad enough that you still have Project: Rebirth up and running."

Ross was silent for several moments as the two continued down the halls. "...I guess it's no surprise that Fury knows about that."

"After several failed attempts across the world to replicate the Iron Man armor, we tend to keep track of these sorts of things," Coulson replied.

"America is looking to build the next generation of soldiers, the super soldier. With Abraham Erskine's work lost to us, and the loss of Captain America in World War II, reactivating Project: Rebirth is our best choice, with our best scientists and biologists working around the clock. After what we discovered with gamma radiation, after the Hulk was created...well, having soldiers with even a fraction of that kind of power is something we can't afford not to have."

"Making your own private army of super-soldiers? Explain again the difference between what your actions and those of the likes of HYDRA and Leviathan?"

"How do you think we plan to fight the likes of them? We're thankful for what SHIELD does for the world, don't get me wrong, but the United States of America can't always rely on outside factors for our security. We need to be able to defend yourself from all these threats out there."

"So what do I tell Betty?"

At this, Ross stopped in his tracks, turning back towards Coulson. "What?"

"Betty Ross, your daughter?" Coulson replied. "She's been visiting Dr. Banner here for the last few days since he arrived on the Raft. She's currently staying in New York, and she is scheduled to arrive for another visit any minute now. Hell, she probably arrived, on her way to Banner's old cell. Would you like to speak to her instead when she finds out you're taking him away again?"

"Betty…she's confused," Ross said after several moments. "She thinks that it's never the Hulk's fault…but she doesn't know better; she still believes that there is a way for the Hulk to do some good for mankind, and that it's not being a guinea pig for our boys in the labs."

"Smart woman," Coulson smirked. At this, Ross frowned darkly.

Within a few minutes, the two men were greeted with fresh ocean air as they reached the exit to the outside aircraft deck. Three SHIELD VTOL F-88 carrier fighters were parked and stationed, and a dozen heavily armed SHIELD agents were also standing at the ready. Also on the deck was a USAF Bell Boeing V-22 Osprey, three USAF UH-60 Black Hawks and two dozen HulkBusters soldiers.

"You certainly never hesitate to make a show," Coulson mused as he put on his shades.

"Agent Coulson!"

The voice that echoed behind them was familiar to both Coulson and Ross, more so for the latter. The two men turned to see a woman in her mid-thirties, with brunette hair and wearing a white sweater and black jeans, running up to them. Behind her, three SHIELD agents raced after her.

"We tried to stop her, Agent Coulson," one shouted as she and the SHIELD agents caught up to Coulson and Ross. "But she insisted-!"

"It's alright, agents," Coulson reassured. "Ms. Ross, I can only assume you found out what's going on today?"

"Yes I did," Betty Ross replied before turning to her father. "Why, Dad? Can't you just leave him alone?! You can't do this!"

"You still don't get it, do you?" Ross replied, narrowing his eyes. "This is my job, and not you or Coulson here or anyone else will change this. Think what you want about him, but we're taking the Hulk, and that's final."

Betty Ross had endured this for years, since 2003, ever since Bruce had been bombarded with gamma radiation and transformed into what many on Earth deemed as a monster. She loved Bruce regardless, however, and always would. Yet her father was hell bent on killing him, or using him for his own purposes. It sickened her to her core that all he saw in Bruce was a weapons secret.

"Prisoner Transfer in progress. Protocol R1-34, effective immediately. Flight deck secured; all necessary agents on standby."

At the voice in the intercoms, two large metal gates that served as entry points from the aircraft deck to the rest of the prison opened again. A truck-sized mobile prisoner holding pen came out, accompanied by several SHIELD agents and several HulkBusters. On each side, there was a sizeable viewing glass, and Coulson and Betty could easily see the man in his mid-thirties inside, his unkempt brown hair and slender but fit figure clothed in orange prison clothes. At this, Betty gasped and bit back a sob.

Dr. Bruce Banner, the man known as the Incredible Hulk, looked at them and tried to give Betty a smile.

"Is he sedated?" Ross called out to his men as the HulkBusters soldiers secured the pen.

"Yes, sir," one replied. "He's not Hulking out anytime soon."

"Perfect," the general nodded. "Alright, load him up and get the engines started. We head out to Los Diablos Gamma Facility immediately!" Ross started walking off to the transport, mumbling, "Last thing we need is for him to get angry on the ride."

"A bit late for that, General," Coulson smirked, causing the general to turn to him.

"Meaning?"

"Banner there…he's always angry; he's just learned to control it."

*Embassy of Wakanda to the United Nations. Tribeca, Manhattan, New York City*

0938 GMT/2:38 PM EST, 4 May 2012

King T'Challa of Wakanda was both utterly bored and annoyed.

Taking another sip of his herbal tea, the monarch spared the man before him another glance. In all honesty, this American bored him to death. He was again reminded of the reason why he, his father, his grandfather and all the other Black Panther kings before him had preferred to keep Wakanda in constant isolation from the rest of the world. Most foreigners were simply greedy and selfish, and Wakanda had many resources that the rest of the world, including the American government, would love to get their hands on. Particularly, the Vibranium his people so closely guarded. It had benefited Wakanda for millennia, and the nation had prospered and advanced beyond imagination.

Of course, America would want to enjoy some of those benefits…and more so the military properties of Vibranium.

"As I said earlier," the man continued, "the American government is willing to trade whatever it is you desire for a supply of Vibranium. Weapons, vehicles, medicine, Sentinels, oil, energy, you name it. We are also willing to deliver a very suitable price if your Majesty so desires, instead. Just name it, and I'm sure a deal can be-"

"Mr. Gyrich," T'Challa interrupted, setting his tea down and looking the US ambassador-potential in the eye. "My people have no need of any of the things you have just mentioned and wish to offer to Wakanda. We are a self-sufficient people who are very capable, thank you very much. As I have said to various other heads of state and their representatives, I am not interested in giving the world access to Vibranium, and that goes for the United States as well."

"Your Majesty," Henry Peter Gyrich continued, not ready to surrender this battle. "You're missing out on an opportunity to create a whole new global market here. The United States can help you with-"

"My decision is final," T'Challa said, standing up. "There is no deal, end of conversation."

"Your Majesty, you must reconsider this," Gyrich replied.

"I don't see why," the Wakandan monarch retorted, raising an eyebrow. "As my father said before his...untimely death, it'd be quite irresponsible to give the modernized nations in particular access to Vibranium. The Vibranium belongs to Wakanda, so I think I can do with it as I please, which includes not allowing you any access."

He then motioned to the guards. "Please see Mr. Gyrich to the exit," he said, and with that, the guards escorted Gyrich out of the Wakandan Embassy. Once the door to the conference balcony shut, T'Challa sighed, picking up his herbal tea and walked across the meeting room out to the patio outside. Watching the traffic on the busy streets of Manhattan below, it wasn't long before he heard the door open again.

"I trust my King remained firm in his standing?" an elderly voice mused.

T'Challa smirked and turned to see the Wakandan Royal Advisor/Shaman standing a few feet behind him, his staff in hand and his traditional Wakandan attire on, as did the monarch. "T'Challa," the elderly man continued, "perhaps it is time to return to Wakanda. These outsiders have wasted enough of your time as it is. With war with the White Gorilla tribes looming close, your duties as King must-"

"My father always believed that the outside world had nothing to offer," T'Challa interrupted, pulling out the Panther mask that he inherited by birthright. "He believed that the world outside of Wakanda would never give anything of value to our people. Do you know he was wrong?"

"My King?"

"It has given me…perspective…experience," the monarch continued as he pulled the mask over his face, never taking his gaze off the streets below. "It has given me a new way to see the world. And sometimes I wonder…why do these people suffer and do nothing about it? Corporations exploit disease and poverty for profit, and corruption runs rampant across governments. And entire populations do nothing about their woes. Was it wise for me to end Wakanda's isolation, so it could be exposed to this? Or…can Wakanda maybe show the rest of the world how to finally find peace and prosperity?"

"That is something you must answer with your actions, my-oh…" the elderly man said suddenly, his hand going for his head as he rubbed it.

"My old friend," T'Challa said as he instantly went to his aide's side. "What is it?"

"I sense…very dark magic energy in the city…something…or someone is preparing to invoke powerful magics…"

"Dark magics?" This was a matter of concern for T'Challa. "Perhaps Stephen Strange is at work...or could it not be the Sorcerer Supreme?"

"No, my King, not from this distance. The Sorcerer's magics have never reached such levels of distance from Haiti unless there be dire circumstances. It cannot be Strange; he has sworn himself away from such arts. This is different…far more different…"

*Armory Workshop, Penthouse Levels, Stark Tower. Midtown, Manhattan, New York City*

0938 GMT/2:38 PM EST, 4 May 2012

"Tony, are you up here?"

A beautiful redheaded woman in her late thirties was climbing up the stairs to the Stark Tower penthouse levels, searching for her boss/lover. Virginia "Pepper" Potts easily guessed that if Tony Stark wasn't anywhere else in the tower that was the global headquarters of Stark Industries, he'd definitely be up here, in his armory/workshop. Tony had said he was working on another suit these last two months, and he seemed pretty excited about this one. He had taken to spending nights in his workshop, sometimes pulling off all-nighters. Unfortunately, not only did this piss off the Board of the company when he fell asleep at meetings, but it would piss her off too due to the fact that she would more times than not end up going to bed alone.

"JARVIS, is Tony up here?" Pepper asked Stark's AI butler as she neared the top of the stairs.

'Yes he is, Miss Potts,' a British accented synthetic voice replied. 'However, I would advise you to avoid the top of the stairway for a few moments."

Pepper arched her eyebrows in confusion. "Why?"

SCREAOOWWWWMMM! BOOOMMM!

'That is why, Miss Potts.'

Pepper stood back up straight from instinctively crouching down from the sounds of explosions. At the top of the stairs, where a highly thick wall had been, only a gaping and smoking hole remained, courtesy of a repulsor blast. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, Pepper saw that the glass doors to Tony's workshop were also shattered, and she could see the billionaire whooping for joy, a black and yellow armored gauntlet covering his left hand. At this sight, Pepper smirked affectionately.

"I take it the Mark 22 works?" Pepper chuckled as she sauntered over to where Stark was standing.

"Best model yet," the forty year old man smirked as he took her into his hand & gauntlet and softly kissed her. "Standard armor capabilities, extra features from other armors and (my personal favorite feature) it can come to me at will, thanks to these new microchip implants." Removing the gauntlet from his arm, Stark set it back on his workshop table and turned back to Pepper. "Wanna see it in action? I need to give it a test run anyways and-"

"Do that later," the redhead pouted. "I haven't seen you all day. We need to catch up some…"

"But…the armor…"

"Well, if you don't want to spend a nice, good while with me, you can go to that board meeting that starts in…I don't know, 30 minutes ago?" There was no board meeting today, but it caught Stark's mind, alright.

"JARVIS," Stark smirked. "Cancel all my appointments and make sure no one interrupts me and Pepper for the next…let's make it three hours, m'kay?"

'Sir, I should inform you that my sensors are detecting some kind of minor energy fluctuations in the city,' JARVIS stated.

"Does it involve the Arc Reactor?"

'Analyses conclude no, sir.'

"Then someone else can handle it."

*Upper West Side, Manhattan, New York City*

0938 GMT/2:38 PM EST, 4 May 2012

Disgust.

That was all that came to her mind when she looked upon these humans, these mortals. She was disgusted by them. They were all so frail and weak as a species, and they were such vile and filthy creatures. They were nothing in comparison to the Pantheon that sat in Odin's Palace in the Halls of Asgard. Nothing like the All Father or his queen, Balder and Heimdall, the accursed War Goddess and Thor… her beloved Thor…

No. She could not, would not think of that oaf, he who had chosen her over her own beauty.

She smirked to herself; she would derive a bit of personal pleasure from this invasion, after all.

Disguising her true form with a spell, her blonde hair held up in a ponytail with skin tight blue jeans and green jacket, she was still a lovely sight to behold. Many mortal men turned their heads to capture her delicious form, only to turn away in fear from the muscular bald man that accompanied her as she walked slowly through the streets. He was heavily built, like a pro-wrestler or body builder, and he had an expression written his mustache and goatee face that sent shivers down spines. It was one that gave the air that he could easily kill one of these pathetic humans at any moment. He wore a black light jacket and dark colored pants and boots, and walked with the blonde woman in a subtly protective motion. He easily intimidated everyone that passed them or the both of them passed.

These mortals, the woman mused to herself. They do not suspect that today marks the end of all they know…and the beginning of the reign of the Trickster.

The two individuals suddenly stopped walking. This would've been completely normal if not for the fact that they stopped right in the middle of a busy street crossing, forcing more than a few vehicles to stop abruptly. In anger and confusion, they began honking their horns and shouting in anger, yelling at them to get out of the way. A number of passersby and nearby people gathered near the sidewalk edges, trying to get a glimpse of what was going on. Three nearby cops nearby quickly saw what was going on and began walking towards the two of them, not suspecting anything out of the ordinary. To them, this was just their regular boring beat getting some kind of small action.

Not one of those present knew at all just who, or what, they were dealing with.

"Sir, ma'am," one of the officers said with authority as he approached them. "I'm going have to ask you to –AACCKKKK!"

Everyone started screaming in shock as the large man grabbed the officer by the throat, nearly squeezing the life out of him, and hoisted him up in the air. He ignored the frantic yells of his fellow cops as they took out their firearms and pointed them at him, ordering him to let their comrade go.

"You do not interrupt us," he snarled as he threw the officer across the street, right into the window of a nearby deli, making everyone scream even more. Several shots rang out as the other two cops shot him, only to be horrified that they did nothing to him at all.

"Amora…it is time to begin."

"Very well, Loki," Amora the Enchantress smirked viciously as her hands suddenly began glowing with green magical energy. Shooting her hands to the sky, streaks of green energy flew into the skies, erupting into various bursts as they cascaded all across the island of Manhattan, landing with powerful crashes as they did so.

Everywhere in Manhattan, from Harlem to District X and SoHo, people started screaming in panic and fear and in worry as green energy balls crashed left and right. But it didn't stop there.

They would wish it had stopped there.

Where each ball of energy crashed, a portal was created. Rather large portals to be precise; and from these portals, loud and vicious roars echoed from within to the Manhattan skies. Before the horror-filled eyes of all Manhattan inhabitants, a large, blue skinned & red-eyed humanoid creature stepped out from the portals. They were soon followed by more of their kind stepping out of these portals …by the dozens. Each of them were equipped with various ice carved swords, spears, axes, shields, maces. The creatures stood between 10 and 15 feet in height, and were adorned with white colored tattoo-like markings across their entire bodies. They were clothed with heavy animal fur skins, and as they came out of the portals, they brought with them winds of temperatures of freezing cold proportions.

They unleashed vicious war cries and brandishing their weapons. In response to this, citizens across Manhattan began screaming in utmost terror and panic, fleeing for their lives. With echoing and gleeful cries of war, the blue skinned humanoids began their invasion.

These were the Frost Giants of Jotunheim, one of the Nine Asgardian Realms.

"Arise, Frost Giants of Jotunheim!" the Enchantress yelled out. "Arise and strike this world, claim the victory you were denied centuries ago! Take the mortals and Midgard by storm! FOR TODAY, MIDGARD FALLS UNDER THE MIGHT OF LOKI!"

As she said this, the clothes of herself and her companion morphed and changed, the illusions cast aside. Amora's modern attire was quickly replaced by a fantasy style all green dress that ended just a few inches below her waist. The rest of her legs were covered by green leggings and covered at the bottom with green boots. Her top consisted of a rather revealing bustier, showing an ample amount of her cleavage. Her arms were adorned with green gauntlet-like gloves that went above her elbows and ended just at her fingers, while her hair was crowned with a green tiara crown.

Her companion's attire morphed from his jacket and jeans to a more fantasy-medieval type look, as well. He now wore grey chainmail fatigues, along with black metal shoulder pads and chest armor, with a dark red axe insignia on the front. A warrior's armored kilt adorned his belts and his feet were covered with armored battle boots. In his hands, a monstrous axe, capable of slicing through almost anything manmade and able to use elemental attacks, glistened in the light of the energy bursts of the Enchantress.

Skurge the Executioner joined his Enchantress as she approached one portal in particular. Another group of seven Jotun came out of the portal, and among them, one stood out in particular. He was slightly larger and he had an air of dominance about him, an aura of authority above the rest of his kind. He looked at the Enchantress and Executioner and gave a sinister sneer, relishing the screams the mortals around him gave.

"Ymir of the Frost Giants," Amora said with an evil smile. "Welcome to Midgard."

And with that, the king of the Frost Giants gave an echoing and earth shattering roar.

About a block away, a blonde woman in her late 20s had yet to join in with the other humans running away in sheer terror. All around her, people were screaming at the top of their lungs, fleeing in every direction, with cars and buses being abandoned. These creatures, these alien invaders, were causing immense destruction around her, and were already killing people. Yet, here she stood in her typical calm and cool collective. She instead sighed, her eyes beginning to glow brightly as her shirt, jacket, jeans and boots began morphing into a red & blue costume.

"I can never have a normal day, I swear to God…"

*Some random bar, Lower East Side, Manhattan, NY*

0939 GMT/ 2:39 PM EST, 4 May 2012

"Another round."

The bartender stood them in shock as the man before her placed the cup onto the counter with a thud. "That…that'd make it your 50th just this last hour!" she sputtered.

The 6'3'' man looked at her with a deadpan expression. "I don' see the problem here…" he replied, scratching his bushy sideburns as he puffed his cigar. He was wearing light and flexible black Kevlar body armor attire with fingerless gloves on his hands. The attire also had small yellow lines running across it, forming an X along the front and the back of his top, with another X insignia on his belt line.

"You're not drunk!" the bartender exclaimed, still shocked by the spectacle before her.

"Trust me, toots, it ain' as awesome as it sounds."

Before the bartender could respond, however, the ground shook powerfully as a few green bursts of energy crashed into the middle of the street outside. People could be heard outside in a screaming panic frenzy. The bartender, the man and the other patrons turned towards the window just in time to see hordes giant blue skinned creatures arise from what looked like portals made by the energy fallout. With roars, they began attacking anything and everything in sight. The people in the bar soon began screaming in fear.

...all except for the man in black.

"S'gonna be one o' THOSE days, ain' it?" he sighed. He quickly remembered that most of his team were off in South Africa dealing with some rogue Sentinels, while Havok's team of X-Men were dealing with something in Genosha. Charles was back at the school with the students, maybe with a teacher or two, but their focus upon seeing this on the news would be to keep the students safe there. If this wasn't contained here, Westchester would soon be hit by whatever these things were. Basically, unless he counted Madrox' team up in District X, he was on his own here with no backup.

Just how he liked it most of the time.

Chugging his final glass, the mutant got up and placed a $50 bill on the counter. The bartender, still recovering from the shock of the events outside, gasped even more as from the man's hands ejected six metallic claws, three on each hand.

"S'cuse me, ma'am," he said politely to her, sliding the bill across the counter to her. With that, he walked out the bar to confront these creatures.

*The Peak, 200 km above Earth's atmosphere. Orbital HQ of SWORD*

0940 GMT, 4 May 2012

Alarms blared loudly across the Peak, echoing loudly across the hallway as the SWORD Director ran towards the Command Bridge. Reports and clashing voices rang in her ear from her comm, her teeth gritting. They had been taken by surprise completely. Nothing was going on

Less than half a minute later, the green-clad, green haired woman burst into the Peak's Command Bridge. It was in chaos as SWORD agents were going left and right, data coming in at astonishing rates, screens big and large bombarded with satellite images. Without missing a beat, the Director rushed to her command post, her 3-D screens bringing up thermal and satellite images of Manhattan Island.

"Reports, now! What the hell is going on?!"

"We have extraterrestrial gates opening!" one of the agents replied.

"Unknown energy readings are spiking all across Manhattan," another agent called back, her and several other frantically reading the data streams on their screens. "Satellite images are counting at least 70-no, at least 85 extraterrestrial gates opening up across the island!

"Data's coming in now on the invaders, Director," one of the agents called out as the screen was filled with satellite scans of images of the blue-skinned invaders.

"Sydrill!" the green haired woman yelled out to the canine-like extraterrestrial now dashing into the Command Center. "I need identification on these things, now!"

"Of course!" Sydrill replied as he got to his post and began typing furiously, the monitors scanning the creatures now plaguing Manhattan. Less than a minute later, however, he turned back to the Director. "We can't identify them, Director Brand! This species isn't in any of our databanks!"

"Director!" another agent exclaimed as she rushed over to the Director's command post. "Analysis of the energy spikes match detections we made of an energy surge of a possible extraterrestrial gate 67 hours ago!"

Again, the green-haired woman grit her teeth. She herself had sent several agents to investigate that specific energy surge less than an hour after they had detected it. Nothing had come of it, and now it seemed that their analysis had possibly led to this invasion taking place.

"What's Noh-Varr's location?!" she called out.

"He's still on the moon's dark side with that Skrull device detected earlier," an agent quickly replied as he dashed by.

Taking another glance at the screens before her, bombarded with various data feeds and satellite images, she took charge as she always did. "I want agents and battalions armed yesterday, ready for deployment! I want boots on the ground! Sydrill, collect as much data and scans as we can on these things. Protocol EIE-233B is in effect, effective immediately! Get in contact with Noh-Varr and tell him to get back here ASAP!"

It only took her three seconds to make her next decision, quickly switching communication channels.

"This is SWORD Director Abigail Brand calling the SHIELD Helicarrier Archangel! I need to speak to Director Nick Fury, now!"

*A small and random cafe. Brooklyn, New York City*

0944 GMT/2:44 PM EST, 4 May 2012

"Oh my god, we're going to die!"

"Aliens! We're being invaded!"

"It's happening all over again! We're getting invaded again!"

"Look at them!"

"Someone call the police! Call the Army!"

The entire cafe, the customers and employees, were getting into more of a panic as the screen were flooded with newsfeeds from the cameras of the NY1 news chopper. The images of the blue skinned invaders laying waste to Manhattan induced horror and terror. They were yelling and screaming in fear, not sure what to do, or how to respond. The voice of the reporter was yelling in a frenzy, his voice fearful and high-pitched.

"...to you live in Manhattan, where hundreds of giant blue-skinned aliens have just suddenly appeared not just here in Midtown, but all across Manhattan! Sources are confirming that the NYPD are scrambling as best as they can, and Commissioner Watanabe is requesting assistance from the other four boroughs! Chaos and panic are swarming the streets, with people fleeing all over the city, trying to escape these invaders! Local vigilantes and heroes have been reported to be springing into action, aiding police forces, and the local SHIELD base is responding as well! We have no word on any military response, but we can only assume that anyone is seeing this destruction and are deploying…!"

Dr. Jane Foster, having just finished an astrophysics seminar event at a local college with her colleague and boyfriend, Dr. Donald Blake, looked at the screen in shock and growing dread. She had seen a few alien attacks on TV before in the last several years, but nothing on this level. This hadn't been seen on Earth ever before. To say that the brunette astrophysicist was fearful was an understatement.

Hell, if they left Manhattan...and crossed into the rest of New York City...

"Oh my god," Jane whispered as she brought her hand to her mouth, her eyes widening.

"By the All-Father..." her companion said with dread, causing Jane turned to him.

"Donald? Honey?" she asked, using his alias in case there were other nearby people listening, which she soon saw wasn't the case as they were all too busy staring at the screen and speaking in fearful tones. He didn't face her, but kept his attention to the screen. She then called him by his real name. "Thor?"

He turned to face Jane. "Those are Jotun...the Frost Giants of Jotunheim."

XXX

TO BE CONTINUED...