Kapitel 28: Desert Arrival
Chapter: Desert Arrival
The plane's wheels screeched as it touched down at Albuquerque International Airport, the distant mountains and endless New Mexico desert stretching beyond the glass windows. James leaned back in his seat, exhaling slowly. He had a bad feeling about this.
With a flick of his thumb, he brought his phone to his ear, Rebecca's voice crackling to life on the other end.
"So... New Mexico?" she said, doubt practically radiating through the phone. "What are you even doing there?"
"Visiting family," James lied, glancing around the bustling terminal. "My Aunt lives out here. Thought I'd drop by, surprise her."
Rebecca's tone remained suspicious. "You've never mentioned an aunt in New Mexico."
James chuckled nervously, stepping through the crowd. "Yeah, well, I don't tell you everything. Besides, it's just a quick trip—nothing special."
A brief silence hung between them, and James knew what she was thinking. Rebecca despised SHIELD—said they were shadowy manipulators obsessed with control. He couldn't blame her, really. And if she found out he was working with them? She'd probably hang up on him for good.
"Alright," Rebecca said, though her voice still carried a hint of distrust. "Just… try not to get tangled in anything crazy. I know how that tends to happen to you."
James grinned. "You know me—just a quiet guy living a quiet life."
"Yeah, right," she said, the sarcasm sharp, before softening. "Stay safe, James."
"You too, Becky." He ended the call and slipped the phone into his pocket with a sigh.
Lying to her wasn't exactly easy. He didn't trust SHIELD either, but when they called about an alien object out in the desert—something connected to strange energy readings—curiosity got the better of him. He couldn't resist the pull, especially after everything that had happened since he became... different.
James flagged down a cab outside the airport, tossing his bag into the backseat.
"Where to?" asked the driver, a wiry man with a slight New Mexico drawl.
James handed over a slip of paper with the coordinates SHIELD had sent him. "Somewhere near Puente Antiguo."
The driver raised an eyebrow but shrugged. "Ain't much out there, partner. You sure that's where you wanna go?"
"Yeah," James replied. "It's work stuff. Just drop me off as close as you can."
The cab pulled onto the highway, the sun baking the road as it stretched across the endless desert. James leaned back, watching the familiar landscape blur past. He hadn't been here in years, not since those summers spent with Aunt Isabela at her diner. She'd practically raised him during those visits, her home a small oasis of comfort and greasy burgers. Part of him wanted to swing by and say hello, but this mission came first.
After about an hour, the driver pulled to a stop at a lonely stretch of road. "This is as far as I go," he said, eyeing the barren landscape. "Whatever you're looking for, it's out there somewhere."
"Thanks," James said, paying the fare and hopping out.
He shouldered his bag, squinting against the glare of the sun. A strange tingling sensation crept down his spine, a flicker of energy on the edge of his senses. Something about this place felt... alive. He adjusted his backpack, shook off the strange feeling, and started walking toward the coordinates.
The heat was brutal, but James had been through worse, literally. After about twenty minutes of trudging through the desert, a passing truck slowed down. The driver—a burly man in a faded hat—gave him a curious look.
"Need a lift?"
"Wouldn't say no," James replied, hopping into the truck bed.
The driver dropped him a few miles closer to the SHIELD site, just where the desert opened into a makeshift compound. A strange hum lingered in the air—like the crackle of distant thunder on a cloudless day.
As James approached, he saw the facility SHIELD had hastily assembled. Tents and steel barricades encircled the area, agents moving with precision, securing the perimeter. At the center, a small crater lay hidden beneath scaffolding, radiating the kind of energy that James could almost feel. His skin prickled in response, the same way it had when he first touched the orb that gave him his powers.
At the gate, two guards blocked his path, scanning him with suspicion.
"State your business," one of them said.
"James Carter," he answered smoothly. "I'm expected."
The guards exchanged glances but eventually nodded. One waved him through, and James stepped inside the compound.
The place buzzed with activity—scientists in lab coats huddled over monitors, technicians running power cables, and agents carrying out orders with military precision. It all felt eerily familiar, like watching a well-oiled machine moving toward something dangerous.
James adjusted his collar nervously. Only three people in SHIELD knew his true identity—Nick Fury, Maria Hill, and Phil Coulson. To everyone else, he was just a civilian consultant brought in to help with the "alien anomaly."
He didn't have to wait long before a plain-looking man stepped out of the crowd, his expression calm but friendly.
"Mr. Carter," the man greeted with a polite smile, extending his hand. "I'm Agent Phil Coulson. Welcome to SHIELD."
James shook Coulson's hand, trying to get a read on him. There was something about the agent's easygoing demeanor—casual, almost harmless—that felt a little too deliberate. Like the kind of guy who saw and knew everything but preferred to keep it close to the chest.
Then it clicked.
"Wait... You're...Chris Brody?" James asked, frowning. "That's the name you gave Rebecca, right?"
Coulson gave a small nod, perfectly unfazed. "I may have used that alias once or twice. Didn't leave a good impression, did I?"
"You could say that," James muttered. Rebecca had gone on more than once about how Coulson was a 'smug SHIELD spook.'
Coulson didn't seem offended—if anything, the comment rolled off him like it was just another Tuesday. But James wasn't fooled. This wasn't just a friendly welcome. Coulson knew. About him. About Shazam. And that put James on edge.
"So," James said, glancing around at the camp, trying to keep things moving. "What's all this about? Fury wasn't exactly chatty."
Coulson followed James's gaze toward the crater in the middle of the facility, where scientists swarmed around a metallic object partially buried in the dirt. It gave off an odd hum, like the air around it was charged with some kind of energy James couldn't quite place.
"We found something... unusual," Coulson said carefully. "Not from around here."
The tingle in James's gut returned, stronger this time. He wasn't sure if it was the object or just his instincts screaming that this was going to get messy.
"Great," James muttered under his breath. "Aliens. Just what I needed."
Coulson gave a small chuckle, clasping his hands behind his back. "Let's hope it's just an artifact. If it's not... things could get complicated."
James shot him a wary glance. "More complicated than usual?"
Coulson's polite smile didn't waver. "You'd be surprised."
As James stood there, staring into the crater, that nagging feeling in his gut grew stronger. Whatever this thing was, it was important. And dangerous. And with SHIELD involved, it was only a matter of time before things spiraled out of control.
---
INT. HOSPITAL RECEPTION – NIGHT
The automatic doors hiss shut behind Jane, Erik, and Darcy as they wheel a gurney carrying the unconscious man through the brightly lit hospital. Thor—if that's what he called himself—had been yelling about hammers and kingdoms before collapsing, leaving them with more questions than answers.
The three exchange uncertain glances as they reach the front desk. A tired nurse with a skeptical expression looks up from her paperwork, giving them the kind of look reserved for people dragging strange men into hospitals at odd hours.
"Name?" the nurse asks, pen poised over a clipboard.
"Uh..." Jane fumbles. "Jane Foster."
The nurse nods without much interest, jotting it down. "And your relationship to the patient?"
Jane hesitates, not knowing how to explain any of this. "I... I've never met him before."
Before she can figure out a better answer, Darcy cuts in, leaning casually against the counter. "Yeah, but she hit him with her car."
Jane's eyes go wide. "Barely grazed him!" she protests, throwing an exasperated look at Darcy. "And you're the one who tased him!"
Darcy shrugs, unapologetic. "He deserved it."
The nurse looks between the two women, clearly unimpressed. "Sounds like the guy had it coming," she mutters under her breath, scribbling something on the form.
Erik clears his throat, trying to steer things back to normal. "We'd appreciate it if someone could check him over," he says, offering a polite smile.
"Sure," the nurse replies flatly. "But next time, maybe try not to run people over."
Jane groans as they step away from the desk, Darcy barely suppressing a grin.
---
INT. OUTPOST LAB – NIGHT
Back at their outpost, the three scientists dive into their research, hoping to make sense of the strange events unfolding around them. Jane moves to the laptop sitting on a cluttered table, powering it up as Erik flips through notebooks filled with diagrams and notes on cosmic anomalies.
Darcy, on the other hand, slouches into a chair with a bored sigh. "So… what exactly are we looking for?"
Erik adjusts his glasses, peering at the screen. "We're dealing with an Einstein-Rosen bridge. It's a theoretical portal that connects two points in space-time."
Darcy tilts her head. "Einstein what now?"
Jane pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to stay patient. "It's a wormhole theory, Darcy. Think of space like a sheet of paper. If you fold the paper in half and punch a hole through it, you've created a shortcut between two points."
Darcy makes a face. "Right. Space magic. Got it."
Erik rolls his eyes but continues. "We've seen energy bursts before, but never anything like this. Something massive passed through last night." He taps a few keys, bringing up video footage from one of their instruments.
The screen flickers with grainy images of the night sky—a swirling storm of energy and shifting stars, constellations that don't belong anywhere near Earth. Jane leans in closer, her brow furrowing.
"Wait..." she says, pointing at the screen. "What is that?"
Erik zooms in, enhancing the footage. A shimmering figure emerges from the cosmic maelstrom—a man standing at the center of the storm, bathed in starlight. His form is faint but unmistakable.
Jane's breath catches. "That's him. The guy from the hospital."
Darcy sits up, peering at the screen with disbelief. "The nutjob we left in the ER?"
Jane and Erik exchange a look. This was impossible. The man had been here—right here, in the desert. How could he have appeared in the middle of a cosmic event?
"Unless..." Erik mutters, his voice trailing off.
Jane glances at him sharply. "Unless what?"
"Unless he's not from here," Erik says grimly, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the room.
Silence settles over the lab as they process the implications.
The strange man they'd found in the desert wasn't just a lost traveler or an eccentric drifter. He was something else entirely.
Something connected to the stars.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein