"Maybe I could make a few modifications if this is going to be our mission ship," said Tony as he walked through the narrow interior of the military aircraft transporting them. It was an old plane, designed for a small crew of five people. Still functional, but time had left its mark in every loose screw and rusty panel.
"You guys know I can fly myself and get there way faster than all of you, right? Why the hell do I have to travel like this?" Tony complained with an annoyed gesture, glancing out the window with disdain. His suit could break the sound barrier without breaking a sweat, while this hunk of scrap barely moved faster than an angry turtle.
"We helped you build a homemade particle collider all afternoon… and technically saved you from a slow and painful death," Owen replied calmly, without taking his eyes off the file in his hands. A nearly empty report attempting to describe the mysterious hammer that had fallen from the sky. Of course, he knew a bit more than what the paper said… but not enough to feel at ease.
"Sir, we're about to arrive," the pilot announced in a formal tone, clearly addressing Owen.
"Alright. Good work," Tony responded automatically, as if the comment had been for him. In reality, Owen held the highest military rank among them. Tony, on the other hand, was just… Tony. He had no official rank or title within the team. But that never stopped him from inventing a new one every week—especially if it annoyed the others.
The plane landed at a small airfield, where the three boarded a rental car headed for the area cordoned off by SHIELD. As they approached the security checkpoint, two guards stepped in to intercept them.
"You can't go any further. This area is restricted. Please turn back," one of the guards ordered seriously.
"All good, gentlemen. We're from Vitae," said Tony with a confident smile, gesturing toward Owen. "He's the General Vice Admiral of the Combat Suspension Division." Then he pointed at Banner. "He's the Demolition and Primitive Collision Object Testing Officer." Finally, he pointed at himself. "And I'm the General Supervisor of the Discount Division."
He pulled out some ID cards that, miraculously, had those exact titles printed on them—like he'd planned this ridiculous bit weeks in advance. He was Tony Stark. He probably had.
The guards stood dumbfounded, trying to process those titles that sounded just as impressive as they were absurd. It was like a blend of technical jargon and high-level corporate nonsense. Still, upon confirming they were really from Vitae, one of the guards stepped aside to make a radio call.
"Please wait a moment," he said, walking a few steps away. Minutes later, he returned with a nod. "You may proceed. Follow me."
He led them down a series of hallways surrounded by a translucent containment dome. Banner observed every security detail with interest. Tony walked casually, humming a tune, while Owen advanced with a look of mild indifference.
Eventually, they arrived at a makeshift control room, where a familiar figure awaited with a slightly furrowed brow: Agent Phil Coulson.
"Hello Tony. Owen. Dr. Banner," Coulson greeted, his voice a bit tired. "Looks like you're busy too."
Vitae held almost the same operational permissions as SHIELD within U.S. territory, though with a slightly different philosophy. While SHIELD operated from the shadows, focusing on supernatural or global-level threats, Vitae prioritized the direct protection of civilians and their immediate well-being. For most SHIELD agents, working together wasn't so bad. For Fury… it was a thorn in his side. And Coulson knew that better than anyone.
"You look even more worn out than last time, Coulson. Why don't you just quit already and come work with us? We could use someone with experience," said Owen with a friendly smile.
"Wow… Now you're the one trying to recruit me. How times change," Coulson replied with a soft laugh. "But I can't. I've been here too long. SHIELD is like a second home."
"And it looks like your second home is running low on decent food," Tony commented, eyeing a sad-looking instant meal on the desk with disdain. "Alright, let's see that thing, check if it's radioactive, figure out what it does, and go. I have a date with a beautiful woman who, unfortunately, now controls all my finances."
"Actually, having Dr. Banner and Tony Stark here is exactly what we need," Coulson said seriously. "So far, the only thing we've discovered is that the hammer's material doesn't match any known element on Earth. And every time we try to scan it, our equipment just… collapses."
The three followed him to the impact site. A massive crater marked the location, and at its center, the hammer lay embedded in ground that had crystallized from the extreme heat. It looked like a mythological relic that had fallen from the heavens as a divine judgment.
Owen looked up as they entered the chamber and noticed a figure perched on one of the upper beams.
"What's up? Gonna avoid letting another villain control your mind this time?" he asked with a teasing smile, recognizing Clint Barton.
"I already said it was the first and last time," Hawkeye growled, only barely masking his irritation.
"Good. But if it becomes a habit, we'll wake you up with some… unpleasant methods," Owen replied before turning toward the crater.
Tony activated a scanner as he walked in circles around the hammer, releasing small drones that buzzed through the air like technological insects. Banner, meanwhile, already had his laptop open, monitoring the incoming data in real time.
"Seems like even with Tony's tech, this will take a couple of hours," Banner commented seriously, watching as the scanners bounced off a field of electromagnetic pulses. The data came in slowly, as if the hammer itself resisted being understood.
"That's fine, but please share the data with S.H.I.E.L.D. Fury only approved your presence for the sake of this investigation. If you don't, this could become..."
"Annoying?" Owen interrupted with a curious smile.
"That would be putting it mildly," Coulson muttered under his breath, his eyes fixed on the object that defied all logic.
"By the way, has anyone tried touching it yet?" Tony asked, still circling the crater.
"Anyone? Practically the whole town," Barton replied, finally climbing down from the beam he had perched on. "When we got here, they had set up a kind of fair. Even put up a stage to see who could lift it."
"Of course they did..." Tony murmured, approaching the hammer with confident swagger. He crouched down and tried to lift it with one hand. It didn't budge a millimeter.
"Well, with the crystallized ground underneath, it's obvious it won't move that easily. I guess it's time to call in the big guns," he said, glancing at Banner.
"Now?" Banner asked, not too convinced.
"Come on, he knows how to behave. Worst-case scenario, he demands tons of food before going back to sleep," Tony shrugged.
"I didn't bring a change of clothes," Banner protested.
"I'm sure one of the scientists around here will lend you a lab coat. Besides, the wild look suits you," Tony joked.
Resigned, Banner sighed and removed his lab coat and shirt, remaining in his undershirt and pants. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath... and his skin began to turn green as his body expanded rapidly. His muscles swelled as if every fiber responded to some primal instinct, and the ceiling suddenly seemed much lower due to his sheer presence.
The others instinctively stepped back. Barton and Coulson moved even farther, their hands drifting reflexively toward weapons they knew were useless.
Hulk opened his eyes. His gaze was intense, irritated... but not hostile. He scanned the area until he found Tony and Owen.
"Challenge? Food?" he growled in a deep voice.
"No... wait, yes. It's a challenge," Tony said, raising his hands. "We want to see who can lift that hammer. If you manage it, I'll get you all the chocolate ice cream you want."
"Chocolate?" Hulk asked, clearly intrigued.
"Yeah. Mountains of chocolate," Tony promised with a calm smile.
Hulk grinned confidently and approached the hammer. He grabbed it with one hand... and pulled. Nothing. Frowning, he gripped it with both hands and applied his full strength. His veins bulged like taut cables, the ground beneath him cracked... but the hammer didn't move an inch.
"GRROOUUGH!" he roared in frustration, letting go of it abruptly. His fist came down like a hammer of its own, smashing the ground holding the object with such force that a fissure formed around it.
Thinking it would be easier now that the base was broken, he tried to lift it again... but it was in vain. It remained immobile, as if the very world itself were holding it down.
Seeing Hulk's anger beginning to dangerously rise, Owen quickly stepped in.
"It's okay, Hulk. No one can lift it. Leave it for now and let's go get that ice cream," he said in a calm but firm voice.
Hulk roared in frustration again, but the word "ice cream" pierced through his rage like a spear. He glared at the hammer one last time with contempt before turning away, his eyes still burning with fury that promised destruction if the promise wasn't kept.
"Sorry... could you send someone to get chocolate ice cream? We don't want an angry Hulk in the middle of the desert," Owen said to Coulson with an ironic smile.
Coulson sighed, wondering how the hell he was supposed to find ice cream in the middle of nowhere. The nearest town was at least an hour or two away. But he knew Owen was right. There was no room for mistakes.
"Fine. I'll send someone immediately," he agreed with resignation.
"Perfect. Your turn," Tony said, raising an eyebrow at Owen.
"Tsk, tsk. Why bother making a fool of myself just to prove I'm not worthy?" Owen replied, though he crouched down anyway to give it a try.
"Worthy?" Tony asked, amused.
"Just a saying. Like Excalibur. Only the future king can pull the sword from the stone," Owen explained while gripping the hammer's handle.
"You do know Excalibur and the sword in the stone aren't the same sword, right?" Tony said with a mocking smile.
"Really? Then I've been living a lie..." Owen muttered, but he couldn't finish the sentence. As he applied force, the hammer moved slightly. Not much. Just a tremor. But enough to make everyone hold their breath.
Absolute silence.
"Optical illusion," Owen said quickly, trying again—unsuccessfully.
The others exchanged confused glances. Had it really moved?
No one said anything, but deep within the hammer, the carved runes glowed for a moment. The weapon had adjusted. Not because Owen was worthy, but because his body... was different. The hammer didn't perceive him as a man seeking power, but as something akin in nature.
And for a second, it accepted him. That was the level of adaptability Owen's body possessed.