บท 31: Decisions, Decisions
James sat in the back of the SHIELD SUV, tapping his fingers restlessly against the armrest. He was deep in thought, trying to piece everything together. The alien tech in the facility—those strange symbols and markings—they felt familiar. Too familiar. Like the carvings in the Sanctuary of the Council of Power. If he focused hard enough, he was certain he could read them somehow, though he had no idea how or why.
Beside him, Coulson glanced away from the road. The agent's calm demeanour was almost unsettling, but he made an effort to keep things casual.
"So," Coulson began, his voice cutting through the silence, "how are you holding up?"
James shrugged, trying to sound normal. "I'm fine. Just... figuring it out as I go."
Coulson smiled knowingly. "That's all any of us do. I mean, you've got powers most of us can't even imagine. But this must be your first time out in the field."
"Yeah, it's definitely a first," James admitted, managing a small grin. "Still better than getting wrecked by a sorcerer."
Coulson chuckled, looking ahead.
"So... what exactly are you?" Coulson asked, his tone light, like he was making small talk. "All this power—where does it come from?"
James looked out the window, watching the desert landscape blur past. "I'm just a guy," he said after a beat.
Coulson gave him an understanding nod. "Fair enough. We all have our secrets."
James appreciated that Coulson didn't press further. There were some things—like the Sanctuary and the Council of Power—that were too complicated to explain. Hell, he barely understood it. Not to mention, he did not trust SHIELD with the information.
He knew the future probably wouldn't play out the way he hoped. But with a bit of luck, Shazam could stay on the sidelines just a little longer.
---
Chapter: The Diner Decision
The air inside Isabela's Diner was heavy with the smell of burnt coffee and greasy bacon. Jane Foster slid into the cracked vinyl booth across from Thor, still trying to make sense of him. She pulled off her scarf and set it on the seat beside her, eyes flicking between the menu and the man sitting across from her like he was straight out of a dream—or a very strange nightmare.
The way he talked was off—formal, almost like he was from another era—and the way he carried himself felt... alien. Then there was the footage from their instruments, showing that bizarre figure in the storm, outlined against the stars. It looked human, and there was something about it—like it didn't quite fit, like it wasn't supposed to be there.
And despite how crazy it all seemed, Jane couldn't shake the feeling that Thor knew exactly what it all meant.
She still felt guilty for hitting him—twice—with her van. But this time, she was almost grateful for it. If she hadn't, who knows where he would've disappeared to.
Thor, still impossibly calm and unaware of her thoughts, leaned back in his seat. The small-town diner was clearly beneath his notice, yet he regarded everything around him with quiet curiosity. When he reached out to tap the edge of the sugar dispenser, Jane could almost see the gears turning in his mind, as if he expected it to hold some great secret.
Darcy squinted at him from the other side of the table, a bemused smile curling her lips. She nudged Jane with her elbow. "You know... for a homeless guy, he's pretty cut."
Jane bit back a grin. "Darcy..."
"What? I mean, c'mon! Look at him. He's like... built out of granite." Darcy leaned in, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "How many sit-ups do you think he does?"
Erik Selvig gave an exasperated sigh from the seat next to Jane, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Can we please focus? This guy isn't a fitness model. He's—he's delusional."
Thor's head turned slightly, his sharp blue eyes narrowing at Erik as if he could sense the insult—though whether he cared was another matter. He picked up a salt shaker, turning it slowly in his hand, studying it like it was some artefact.
"This mortal body," Thor declared suddenly, "requires sustenance." His voice was low and serious, as though he were issuing a royal decree.
Jane and Darcy exchanged glances, Darcy trying (and failing) to suppress a laugh.
"Okay, Mr. King of Protein Shakes," Darcy said, smirking. "Let's get you something to eat before you decide to raid the ketchup bottles."
---
A waitress named Isabela—mid-40s, with the weariness of someone who's dealt with way too many late-night drunk customers—sauntered over to their table with a notepad in hand.
"What can I get y'all?" she asked with a friendly but tired smile.
Thor leaned forward with great seriousness. "I shall have this coffee—if that's how you say it. And... pancakes. Many pancakes."
Isabela blinked, mildly surprised. "Uh... okay. How many?"
"Four," Thor answered gravely, then reconsidered. "No. Six."
Darcy bit her lip to keep from laughing, but Jane couldn't stop the small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Erik, however, looked like he was about ready to bolt from the booth.
"You see what I mean?" Erik muttered to Jane, glancing sideways at Thor. "He talks like he walked out of a Renaissance Faire. You cannot seriously believe this guy."
Erik gave the strange man a sidelong glance. Everything he said sounded like pure nonsense—legends, myths, stories from ancient folklore. And he called himself Thor, the God of Thunder, no less. There was no way Erik could take any of it seriously.
Before Jane could respond, the door to the diner jingled as a trio of truckers entered, their voices loud and cheerful. They took a seat a few tables over, still chatting animatedly about something.
"Government's locked down the entire area," one of the truckers was saying. "It crashed about fifty miles west, and the military's crawling all over it. No one's getting close to that thing—it's like it's fused to the ground. Nobody can lift it."
Thor went rigid in his seat. His head snapped toward the men, and suddenly, all the casual warmth drained from his face, replaced by sharp intensity.
"What did you say?" he demanded, his voice low and commanding.
The trucker blinked, taken aback. "Uh... I said a satellite crashed. Fifty miles west."
Thor shot to his feet so abruptly the table rattled, silverware clattering against the surface. His eyes sparked with recognition as if the entire universe had just clicked into place. "It must be Mjolnir," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
Jane's pulse quickened. "Wait—what?"
"My hammer," Thor said, his voice sharp with urgency. "It's there. I have to retrieve it."
Darcy leaned back, eyebrows raised. "Soo... the 'satellite' everyone's talking about is your hammer? You sure you're not still hammered?"
Thor barely acknowledged her, his focus locked on Jane, intense but not unkind. "I must go to that place. With Mjolnir in hand, I can end this exile... and return to Asgard."
There it was again—that word: Asgard. It should have sounded absurd. Erik certainly thought so.
"Jane, come on," Erik said, leaning in close and lowering his voice as if Thor might overhear. "This is mythology. It's not real. He's obviously... well, he believes it, but that doesn't make it true."
Thor stood tall, towering over them, his expression unwavering. Jane stared up at him, caught between logic and instinct. She knew Erik was right—or at least, he was trying to protect her. But everything in her gut told her that Thor believed what he was saying. And somehow, that made it harder to dismiss.
Thor held her gaze, his blue eyes steady and brimming with an unwavering resolve that Jane couldn't quite place. "If you help me reach it," he said softly, his voice laced with a quiet intensity, "I'll tell you everything you want to know."
Jane hesitated, glancing at Erik. Then, reluctantly, she nodded. "I can't go with you," she said, the words tasting bitter in her mouth. "But... I hope you find what you're looking for."
Thor gave an understanding nod. He took her hand gently, lifting it to his lips in a gesture that felt both ancient and deeply personal.
"Then it's farewell. Thank you, Jane Foster," he whispered. He turned to Erik and Darcy. "Erik Selvig, Darcy... Farewell."
And with that, he turned and walked out of the diner, disappearing into the sunlit street beyond.
---
The Outpost Raid
The drive back to the outpost was dead quiet. Jane leaned against the window, watching the empty landscape roll by, her mind a mess of second-guessing. Should she have gone with Thor? Was she making a huge mistake leaving him behind?
Erik glanced over, picking up on her tension. He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. "You did the right thing," he said like he was trying to convince them both. "Guys like that? Trouble. I can feel it. Whatever we saw in that footage, it's gotta be some kind of illusion or trick of the light. Don't dwell on it too much."
But the pit in her stomach told her otherwise. Something about Thor didn't scream crazy. It felt bigger than that like she'd just walked away from something important.
When they finally pulled into the lot, all those thoughts vanished.
The place was crawling with agents. Black SUVs filled the lot, their headlights cutting through the dusk. Men in suits were everywhere, swarming the outpost like ants, hauling out equipment, computers, everything they had worked on.
Jane's heart shot into her throat.
"No, no, no!" she muttered, throwing the van into the park and jumping out. "Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing? That's our research!"
----
Chapter: The Bargain in the Outpost.
Raiding the Lab
James Carter stood awkwardly by the entrance of the dusty outpost, watching SHIELD agents buzz around like bees in a hive. They dismantled computers, packed away notebooks, and took samples—every bit of research that wasn't bolted down was confiscated.
"This feels wrong," James muttered under his breath. He crossed his arms and shot a look toward Agent Coulson, who stood at the center of the chaos, overseeing it all with his usual unflappable demeanor.
James stepped closer to the agent. "You know we're basically robbing these people, right? Just... walking into their lab and stealing years of their work?"
Coulson didn't even glance at him. "It's necessary."
"Yeah, you keep saying that," James shot back, irritation creeping into his voice. "Doesn't make it any less shady."
He'd thought they were here to collaborate—ask some questions, maybe loop these scientists into whatever weirdness SHIELD was chasing. But no, they weren't asking. They were taking. And now it was crystal clear: SHIELD didn't play fair. They didn't negotiate—they seized.
James narrowed his eyes. He'd had his doubts about SHIELD from the start, and now those doubts were slapping him in the face. If SHIELD wanted something, they'd get it—whether it was lab equipment or people. Just like they wanted Shazam, and now they had him—working alongside them on this mission.
And it drove him crazy.
The agents continued their task without pause. One boxed up scientific journals while another meticulously peeled away notes stuck to a whiteboard. James felt a knot of guilt tightening in his chest. He'd been dragged into this SHIELD operation, but it didn't sit right with him—these scientists didn't deserve this.
A flicker of movement caught his eye. On the wall-mounted corkboard, pinned among graphs and star charts, a photograph stood out: a cluster of constellations arranged in a way he had never seen before. They weren't mapped in any recognized astronomical pattern. Strange.
Curiosity got the better of him, and he leaned in to examine it.
"Einstein-Rosenbridge theory," James muttered, half to himself. "That's... that's an atmospheric disturbance model. They're tracking energy spikes like the ones we've seen with the 'hammer'."
Coulson noticed James's sudden focus and stepped beside him. "What are you thinking?"
James pointed to the photograph and some notes scrawled beneath it. "These constellations—they're documenting portals, rifts. It matches the same energy signature from that thing stuck on the dessert."
Coulson raised an eyebrow. "You know, for a tech-store employee, you sure have a solid grasp on all this. How?"
James shuffled uncomfortably and rubbed the back of his neck. "I, uh… used to be a geek back in college."
Coulson gave him a rare, subtle smile. "That doesn't surprise me."
---
An Awkward Arrival
Before James could respond, the outpost door swung open, and in marched three very unhappy scientists—Jane Foster, Erik Selvig, and Darcy Lewis. Jane's eyes widened as she saw SHIELD agents ripping apart her life's work. She stormed toward Coulson, her fists clenched at her sides.
"What the hell is this?" Erik demanded, shock flaring in his voice.
Jane followed, throwing her hands up. "You can't just walk in here and take everything! This is our research!"
Darcy crossed her arms and added dryly, "Yeah. What she said. Also—rude."
Coulson remained calm, as always. "I understand you're upset, Dr. Foster, but this investigation concerns national security. We need everything you have—"
"Everything?" Jane cut him off, incredulous. "You don't get to take years of our work without an explanation. We have a right to know what's going on."
James, watching the interaction, felt that familiar knot of guilt tighten. He'd tried to argue this very point earlier, but Coulson had brushed him off. Now, standing face-to-face with the scientists whose lives they were upending, James couldn't stay quiet anymore.
He wouldn't be able to rest easy otherwise, and Rebecca would never let him live it down if he stayed quiet in this situation.
"I think we can approach this situation differently," James said, stepping forward with a newfound determination. He turned to Jane, his voice softening. "Look, I promise you're going to get your research back. I swear."
Jane blinked, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected kindness in his tone. It was refreshing in a sea of tension.
"And," James continued, casting a glance at Coulson, "I really think we should let them in on the investigation."
Coulson's expression remained stoic, but James noticed the slight raise of an eyebrow—surprise, perhaps? "That's a bad idea," Coulson replied flatly.
"I think it's a good one," James insisted, his voice steady. "They've spent years studying these disturbances. If anyone can help us make sense of this mess, it's them."
Coulson leaned in, lowering his voice, as if confiding a secret. "Mr. Carter, this isn't as straightforward as you're making it sound. The investigation regarding the foreign object is classified." He met James's gaze, the intensity in his eyes sharp. "And I don't think Ms. Martinez would have appreciated this decision of yours, especially given…" He shot a pointed look at Jane. "…distractions."
James shot him a deadpan stare, irritation bubbling to the surface. "Are you kidding me? This isn't about distractions. It's about getting answers. They deserve a chance to be involved in this."
Jane crossed her arms, her expression shifting from anger to cautious interest. She wasn't used to government agents showing kindness, let alone advocating for her.
And yet, a thought nagged at the back of her mind. If SHIELD granted her access to their facility... she could find a way to help Thor. Get him to Mjolnir.
It was reckless. It was dangerous. But it just might work.
Coulson exhaled through his nose, clearly displeased. "I'll have to call Fury."
James nodded. "Good."
Coulson gave him a long, unreadable look, then stepped away to make the call.
---
Small Talk and Science
As Coulson disappeared into the next room, Erik Selvig turned to James, studying him curiously. "You're not like the other agents," he said. "You seem... Normal."
"Yup," James replied, shifting uncomfortably. "Just a guy caught up in this mess."
Darcy raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eye. "So what's your deal? Why are you helping us? Just so you know, Jane's into blonde, muscular guys with long hair. As for me? You're cute, but not really my type."
"That's not it," James said with an awkward chuckle. "I actually read your files." He glanced between Jane and Erik, a hint of admiration in his voice. "I was genuinely impressed with your work. The way you mapped those energy spikes? That's brilliant. And your theory on electromagnetic anomalies intersecting with cosmic events—"
Erik's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You read that?"
"Yeah," James admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "I might have geeked out a little. It's... incredible."
Darcy smirked, clearly enjoying the moment. "Nerd," she teased.
James felt a flush of embarrassment creep up his cheeks. "Yeah, okay, guilty as charged."
Jane regarded him with a curious expression. "You really know your stuff."
James shrugged, feeling both flattered and a bit self-conscious. "I read a lot. I mean, knowledge is power, right?"
Erik exchanged an intrigued glance with Jane, clearly impressed. It wasn't every day that an agent—or whatever James was—showed genuine interest in their research.
A few moments later, Coulson returned, his phone in hand. His expression was unreadable, as always, but James could tell from the slight tension in his posture that Fury hadn't been thrilled about the idea.
Coulson stopped in front of James, giving him a look that said, This is on you.
"Director agreed," Coulson said finally. "They're in."
Jane exhaled, relieved but cautious. Erik gave a small nod, while Darcy muttered, "Well, that's a first."
Coulson turned to James, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But he also said he is going to have a word with you later."
James met his gaze evenly, feeling the weight of those words. Whatever Fury had planned, it wasn't going to be a friendly chat.
But for now, they had won. And with Jane, Erik, and Darcy on board, they were one step closer to uncovering the truth—the truth that may or may not be related to the mystery surrounding his own powers.
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