Marvel: The Silver-Haired Hacker and Her Mecha Fleet Chapter 55 55: Stunning Thor

Jane stared at the blond man. He was acting like a total maniac, shouting in a language she couldn't understand and struggling to charge blindly into the desert. She was on the verge of a panic attack herself.

A mont ago, she thought he carried so kind of indescribable, heroic aura. Now, she was convinced he was an escapee from a local psychiatric ward.

"Stop him! Don't let him run off! If sothing happens to him out there, the police are going to bla us!" Jane yelled frantically.

However, Thor was massive, and his physical strength was absurd even without his divine powers. Dr. Selvig couldn't hold him back at all. The older man was dragged forward, stumbled, and fell hard onto the gravel.

Daisy was so terrified she plastered herself against the side of the truck. She gripped her phone so tightly it nearly cracked. "Jane! This guy is too strong! We can't handle him! Maybe we should just call the cops!"

Thor ignored them entirely. His mind was consud by his hamr and the humiliation of being banished to the mortal realm by his father, Odin. He stumbled forward, determined to reach the crater.

Jane watched his retreating back. She gritted her teeth, reached into the truck, and grabbed her self-defense Taser. She sprinted a few steps after him, leveled the weapon at Thor's broad back, and pulled the trigger.

Bzzzt—!

Blue arcs of electricity instantly surged through Thor's body. He went completely rigid. His eyes bugged out, his roaring stopped abruptly, and he pitched face-first into the dirt, unconscious for the second ti that night.

The desert fell dead silent. Only the wind whistled across the badlands.

Jane held up the sparking Taser. She stared at the massive unconscious man, her hands shaking violently, and let out a massive sigh of relief.

"My God..." Dr. Selvig groaned as he pushed himself up from the dirt. He looked at the fallen man with lingering fear. "Jane, I certainly hope you didn't cause any permanent brain damage with that shot."

"It is better than letting him run off and die," Jane panted, safely holstering the Taser. "In his condition, if he ran out into the desert alone, he was going to get into trouble anyway. Let's get him in the car and take him to the local hospital to make sure he doesn't have any internal bleeding."

Daisy nodded frantically and rushed over to help. Together, the three of them strained every muscle to haul the heavy, muscular man into the back seat of the SUV. Once the door was slamd shut, Jane hit the gas and sped toward the nearest town.

The SUV's taillights vanished into the night. None of them had any idea that the blond man they just Tased was Thor of Asgard, nor did they realize the catastrophic chain of events this accidental desert encounter had just set into motion.

Elsewhere, beside the impact crater.

Compiler landed silently on the crater's rim. Her massive rigging shimred with a cold, tallic luster under the starlight, yet it produced absolutely no chanical noise. It felt as if the machine was even suppressing the sound of the wind around her.

At the bottom of the crater, embedded deep inside a chunk of bedrock, Mjolnir rested quietly. Its intricate, ancient patterns glowed faintly in the moonlight.

[Mira, I have arrived at the target object's location...] Compiler transmitted the visual feed directly into Mira's consciousness. She tilted her head, analyzing the hamr. [I am detecting extre concentrations of extraterrestrial energy within the object, as well as an overpowering, rule-based conceptual binding.]

Back in her Queens apartnt, Mira was curled up in her beanbag chair, munching on a bag of potato chips while watching the livestream. "That thing is called Mjolnir. That is the hamr of Thor I told you about. Around these parts, the internet likes to call it the 'ow-ow Hamr.' Odin cast a heavy spell on it. As long as soone possesses a righteous heart and is 'worthy' of Thor's power, they can lift it and command the lightning."

Mira paused to chew a chip and smiled. "Basically, anyone who crosses over into the Marvel Cinematic Universe has to try and lift that hamr. It is like an obligatory tourist attraction. A fixed canonical procedure. Go down there and try to pick it up. Let's see exactly what kind of 'character' our Siren network's Compiler possesses."

[Understood.]

Compiler replied obediently. Her chanical legs flexed, carrying her softly down the steep walls of the crater until she stood before the rock. She lowered her head, studied the gray hamr, and reached out her small hand, gripping the cold leather-wrapped handle.

The second her fingers made contact, dense streams of golden code cascaded across Compiler's eyes. Functioning like the universe's most precise diagnostic instrunt, she imdiately began to parse the hamr's structural and magical data.

[Analysis complete,] Compiler reported in her flat monotone. [The primary material composition is an unknown tallic elent. The internal structure contains sealed energy equivalent to a stellar core.]

[Cross-referencing the intelligence you provided: 'Whoever is righteous and worthy shall possess the power of Thor.' Based on the data, it is inferred that the core conceptual binding is permanently tethered to the target individual 'Thor Odinson' at a quantum-soul level.]

Mira raised an eyebrow. "Is it really that stubborn? Apply so actual force. Let's see if the raw energy of a Wisdom Cube can brute-force an Asgardian spell."

[Attempting.]

Compiler tightened her grip. The massive rigging behind her instantly flared with dark blue energy. A terrifying volu of ntal and kinetic energy surged down her arm and into the handle. The air pressure inside the crater spiked. The ground vibrated violently, and loose gravel began to levitate into the air.

Yet, the 42.3-pound Mjolnir remained completely motionless inside the rock. It was as if the hamr was bolted to the core of the planet itself. It did not budge a single milliter.

[Attempt failed,] Compiler released the handle and reported the honest truth. [My current energy output cannot shatter the applied conceptual binding. I cannot move the target object.]

"Just as I thought. That old man Odin's magic actually holds up." Mira chewed on another potato chip, completely unsurprised. "No big deal. If you can't lift it, you can't lift it. We were just acting like tourists anyway. I never seriously expected you to be able to pick it up."

Compiler gave a small nod and turned to leave. Suddenly, she stopped.

[Mira, I am detecting multiple motorized vehicles approaching. Distance: 1.2 kiloters. The vehicles contain nurous ard personnel belonging to S.H.I.E.L.D., led by Agent Phil Coulson.]

Mira paused, then let out a laugh. "Well, speak of the devil. Coulson got there fast. Do not panic. Let them see you. It's not like they have the firepower to stop you anyway."

At that exact mont, the S.H.I.E.L.D. convoy skidded to a halt at the edge of the crater. Coulson kicked his door open and stepped out, preparing to order his agents to establish a quarantine periter. However, when he looked down into the pit, he froze like a statue.

Standing dead center in the crater was a little girl with long silver-white hair, wearing a white Lolita dress. Hovering behind her was a set of impossibly massive, black chanical rigging. The heavy naval cannons, the glowing blue tentacles, and the hexagonal energy shields were glaringly obvious in the dark. It practically scread aggressive sci-fi dominance.

White hair again! Another mysterious cha!

Coulson's brain short-circuited. He nearly suffered a coronary on the spot.

Lately, the entire S.H.I.E.L.D. apparatus had developed severe institutional PTSD regarding the phrases "white-haired girl" and "mysterious cha."

It started in Harlem. Two white-haired girls with flying rigging showed up, blew away the Abomination, and vanished right under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s nose. They hunted for clues for six months and found nothing. Then the Queens arsenal exploded, and three more appeared, bailing out Tony Stark before disappearing without a trace.

And the Atlantic Ocean incident wasn't even closed yet! Director Fury's apex escort fleet had just been beaten to death by three ghost ships from World War II. The Zumwalt was currently bleeding out in dry dock, and the whole agency was tearing its hair out trying to find the source. The ghost ships had already beco a terrifying legend within S.H.I.E.L.D.'s ranks.

They hadn't even identified the first four girls, and now a fifth one had popped up in the middle of a desert! And her cha was by far the most exaggerated yet!

Coulson only had one thought in his head: What the hell.

He genuinely began to wonder if every white-haired, cha-piloting girl in the universe was migrating to the United States.

"All units, defensive posture!" Coulson snapped out of his shock. He drew his sidearm and barked orders at his team. "The target is highly dangerous! Nobody fires unless fired upon!"

"Hold it right there! S.H.I.E.L.D.! Drop your weapons!"

The surrounding agents raised their rifles, shouting commands. The tactical flashlights attached to their barrels pinned Compiler in a blinding crossfire.

Compiler did not flinch. She simply tilted her head up, her glowing golden eyes sweeping over the tactical team with absolute indifference. Her flat voice echoed through the empty crater, transmitting with crystal clarity into every agent's ears.

[Warning. Your ballistic weaponry cannot pose a mathematical threat to my hull. Holster your firearms to avoid unnecessary termination.]

The mont she spoke, the massive chanical construct shifted. Several of the heavy naval cannons rotated in unison. The muzzles ignited with a terrifying, deep-blue light. A suffocating wave of energy washed over the crater. The very air felt heavy and lethal.

Every single agent froze. No one dared to twitch a muscle. Their instincts scread that the energy pooling in those cannons would vaporize the entire convoy in a microsecond.

Coulson imdiately raised a hand, signaling his n to lower their rifles. He took two slow steps forward, forcing his voice into a calm, diplomatic register.

"Hello. We are S.H.I.E.L.D. We do not have any hostile intentions. We are simply here to investigate this fallen object. May I ask who you are? And why are you here?"

As he spoke, he was frantically drafting an ergency encrypted ssage to headquarters in his head, analyzing the tactical nightmare in front of him.

The little girl's rigging perfectly matched the design philosophy of the units from the Harlem incident. They were unequivocally from the sa faction!

Furthermore, the fact that this girl had pinpointed the crash site before S.H.I.E.L.D. could secure it was not a coincidence. She clearly knew exactly what the object was!

Compiler ignored his questions entirely. She simply stared past him and spoke into the empty air.

[S.H.I.E.L.D. has completed their encirclent. Shall I initiate spatial jump withdrawal?]

Back in the apartnt, Mira watched Coulson's panicked expression on the feed and laughed. "Alright. We saw the hamr. We touched the hamr. Let's pull out. Do not bother talking to them. We were just here for the tourism."

[Understood.]

Compiler gave Coulson one final, emotionless glance.

Suddenly, the air beside her warped, and a pale-blue spatial portal tore open.

Coulson's stomach dropped. He watched the portal materialize out of thin air. So that is how they keep vanishing!

"No! She is escaping! Stop her!" Coulson roared.

But before the agents could even take a step forward, Compiler walked into the rift. The massive, terrifying rigging dissolved into blue light and retracted into her body like a receding tide. The spatial ripples flashed, the portal snapped shut, and the crater was completely empty.

Only the heavy gray hamr remained embedded in the bedrock. It was as if the white-haired girl had never existed at all.

Coulson led his team in a frantic sprint to the bottom of the crater. He stared at the empty patch of dirt and the faint scent of ozone lingering in the air. His face turned an ugly shade of red.

They got away again!

Just like the others. They show up whenever they want, they leave whenever they want, and they never leave behind a single scrap of forensic evidence!

Coulson rubbed his temples, fighting off a massive migraine. He helplessly pulled out his secure sat-phone and dialed Nick Fury.

The line connected. Coulson forced a bitter smile. "Director. We have a situation."

Fury was still drowning in the political fallout of the North Atlantic disaster. His voice was dangerously low. "What is it now, Coulson? Have we lost the asset?"

"The hamr is secure. But... we encountered another white-haired girl. She was equipped with an unknown chanized rig that perfectly matches the combat profiles from Harlem and Queens," Coulson reported, bracing himself for the explosion. "She materialized right under our noses and evacuated using so kind of localized spatial portal. We were unable to secure her."

The line went dead silent.

Several agonizing seconds later, Fury spoke. His voice was a terrifying, teeth-grinding hiss. "Another one? Coulson. Tell . How many of them are there now?!"

"Counting tonight? Five, Director," Coulson replied helplessly. "We have zero leads on the first four, and now a fifth operative has surfaced. Based on the operational profile, we also strongly suspect the Bismarck incident in the Atlantic was orchestrated by this exact sa faction."

Sitting in the Triskelion, Fury gripped his phone so hard the plastic cracked.

He assud this rogue faction restricted their operations to New York. Now they were materializing in the deserts of New xico! Every single ti they appeared, the scale of the absurdity escalated!

"Investigate! I want a full-scale investigation!" Fury roared, abandoning all pretense of calm. "Even if you have to turn the entire state of New xico upside down, you find a lead! I want to know exactly what these ghosts are trying to accomplish!"

"Understood, Director." Coulson hung up the phone. He stared down at Mjolnir in the dirt, feeling like his career was rapidly spiraling into a pitch-black abyss.

anwhile, back in Queens.

Mira watched Compiler step out of the portal. She smiled and pulled the girl into a hug.

"Good work, my little civil engineer. Did you enjoy your desert stroll?" Mira pinched Compiler's cheek playfully. "Now that you've seen the ow-ow Hamr in person, a bit underwhelming, isn't it?"

[The target object contains significant energy reserves, but the conceptual restrictions are too rigid. Its practical tactical value is exceptionally low,] Compiler stated, snuggling comfortably into Mira's arms. [Additionally, I have synchronized and recorded all S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel biotrics and local operational deploynts. We can monitor their radio traffic indefinitely.]

"Excellent. Excellent," Mira praised, rubbing the girl's fluffy hair.

Her eyes drifted to the secondary virtual display. It was showing a hacked surveillance feed from a small-town New xico hospital.

Thor Odinson had just woken up. He was currently staring at an IV drip and the sterile white walls with a look of absolute, baffled fury.

A wicked, playful smirk curled the corner of Mira's lips.

Now Get The FULL AVAILABLE NOVEL at Once!

@patreon/Authorizz/shop