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At this moment, it was already night.
Jeanne d'Arc, tasked with hunting Loki, had led the team on a sweeping aerial search—passing through multiple countries and evading both magical interference and energy distortions caused by Misaka Mikoto Alter's electromagnetic storms. After circling high above the Pacific Rim, they finally arrived in the United States, tracking Loki's fluctuating divine signature.
There should be no prior knowledge of Jeanne in Loki's current profile—what exactly was he trying to accomplish here?
"Master, he's in New York." Jeanne's voice echoed within Shen He's mind, transmitted via the Chaldean neural link.
"Then let's find him first." Shen He's expression tightened. A vague, grim premonition gnawed at the edge of his thoughts.
Chaldea's presence in New York was no secret. Their North American Branch, officially sanctioned by S.H.I.E.L.D. and recognized by UN Resolutions following the Terrigen Incident, had control over all surveillance sectors excluding Manhattan's political core.
Loki's decision to appear here—openly, and unprovoked—meant he either wanted global attention, or he had a deeper agenda meant to dismantle Chaldea's position.
Shen He stepped into the Guardian Command Center.
The command deck hummed with energy. Holographic displays flickered across walls, data streaming in real time. Aside from Manhattan, every borough was webbed in Chaldean satellite surveillance, linked to both Chaldea's Combat AI Magi-System and the new upgraded S.E.R.A.P.H.I.M. grid.
"Sir, target acquired."
"Put the visual on the main screen," Shen He ordered.
"Yes, sir."
The central monitor lit up. Crowds surged in Times Square; holographic advertisements reflected off the glass towers; street performers mingled with tourists.
A large open-air performance was taking place—a rising idol group known as Celestial Beats was mid-concert.
In the top-right quadrant of the screen, a red marker framed Loki's silhouette. He stood by a window on the 28th floor of a luxury hotel, his reflection distorted against the city lights.
"Are the Guardians still active?"
"Sir, all are stationed in Manhattan for the Stark-Fury summit. Only Captain Steve Rogers is free-roaming near Harlem."
"Deploy everyone immediately. Get Steve airborne on a Helicarrier-class vessel."
Shen He issued the command without hesitation. Loki appearing in such a populated area was a potential catastrophe, but the presence of Captain America and the Guardians would at least maintain civilian order. Symbolism mattered. And Chaldea, still under scrutiny after the Academy City Rift, couldn't afford any missteps.
"Master, we're overhead." Jeanne's voice came through the internal comm again. "Wait—he's moving—he jumped!"
On-screen, Loki stepped from the window.
He wasn't falling—he leapt, arms wide, scepter in hand, descending like a fallen god toward the glowing concert stage.
The moment he landed, a blast of azure energy erupted outward. The force sent musicians, instruments, lighting rigs, and amplifiers flying. The music cut out mid-beat.
Then—chaos.
People screamed. Some didn't even know what was happening—only that something terrible had landed in the middle of their joy. Panic swept the crowd like wildfire.
"Be quiet."
Loki slammed the butt of his scepter into the stage. A ripple of spiritual energy radiated from it—an Asgardian glamour woven with mental compulsion.
Silence blanketed the chaos.
People looked around at each other, confused. The enchantment wasn't complete mind control—it was suggestion, deep-rooted, subtle. And humans, being herd creatures, obeyed.
"I am Loki. Prince of Asgard."
He stood tall on the mangled stage, clad in ceremonial Asgardian armor laced with Midgardian fashion—an odd blend of regality and mockery.
"I am also your future king. But for now…"
He raised his scepter. An arc of blue shot out behind the crowd.
Boom!
An explosion engulfed several cars along the avenue, sending debris skyward. Flames painted the buildings with dancing shadows. Sirens began to wail—far too late.
"Now, you are all my hostages. This area is rigged with hundreds of bombs. All wireless, all linked to the heartbeat of those I've marked."
Gasps and cries erupted again. He'd made the civilians weapons.
"What do you want?!" someone yelled in desperation.
"Ah, a good question." Loki smiled, eyes glittering with mischief.
"Humans are creatures of servility. You crush the weak, yet bow to the strong. Enslavement is your natural state. But among you are fools—those who believe in rebellion, who believe in shielding the defenseless."
He raised his arms, voice echoing across the square.
"I am here to test them. Let us see if your 'guardians' will come to protect such fragile things as you."
Commotion rippled through the frozen crowd.
"He's targeting the Guardians!" someone shouted.
"They'll save us!" cried another.
"It's only one guy!" someone else braved, rolling up their sleeves.
"Foolish."
With a twisted grin, Loki fired his scepter again.
But the blue burst met a black-robed figure mid-air—Accelerator, the Chaldean-enhanced esper known as One Side, blocked the strike with a snap of vector redirection.
"It's Chaldea!" voices cried out.
"A new member!"
"Is the hooded goddess with him?"
"Look! The sky!"
Above, a sleek Astra-Class aerial cruiser descended. Its thrusters growled softly, and two cloaked figures stood on the outer hull: Jeanne d'Arc and Qi Mu Nanxiong.
Loki squinted at the new arrivals.
These weren't the Guardians he remembered.
How many acolytes does Chaldea have now?
No matter.
"Boom."
He whispered, and the spell detonated.
Joan sensed it an instant too late. Despite activating her Noble Phantasm's pre-trigger barrier, the explosion tore through the plaza.
Screams were muffled by the soundwave. Some were flung across streets. Blood painted the pavement—but no one could tell whose.
"You bastard! What's so funny about these cheap tricks!" Accelerator shot toward Loki.
"Wait—!" Joan shouted.
He halted mid-punch, stopping just an inch from Loki's face. He didn't flinch.
"Why not strike me?" Loki taunted. "Do it, and your little audience will erupt. Each punch will trigger another. Slaves love to obey."
People backed away from anyone wearing a backpack in horror.
"Damn you..." Accelerator hissed. His teeth clenched, but he didn't attack.
He wasn't afraid of Loki's threat—he was following a command.
Absolute Command.
Shen He's authority as Chaldea's Supreme Commander could only enforce such a command once per day, and store up to three. This was the first time Shen He used one.
And he used it here.
"Hold him. Qi Mu is en route." Shen He's tone was ice-cold, devoid of emotion.
He wasn't surprised. This was exactly the kind of spectacle Loki was known for.
Even if Shen He had no empathy for the crowd, Chaldea's image—especially in front of global surveillance drones—had to maintain moral dominance.
Being a symbol had a cost.
As a foreign power with no official borders, Chaldea needed public support.
But make no mistake.
Loki's name had been added to Shen He's personal blacklist.
And Chaldea never forgot.
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