Bella wasn't particularly disappointed that she hadn't gotten the chance to battle Loki.
In truth, it had never been her goal to start a fight today.
That afternoon, after a hearty meal, she found a small corner in the diner, sipping oat milk coffee while casually chatting with Angie over the phone.
Angie, who had already arrived safely in Fox Town, was in full complaint mode.
"Ahhh, Bella, they're treating me like some fragile patient who just escaped from the ICU," Angie grumbled.
"I'm not even allowed to go outside and meet Sangji and the others! Fortunately, they agreed to come visit me, otherwise, I think I'd die of boredom!"
Bella chuckled softly.
The lively, chirping Angie on the other end of the call didn't sound anything like someone recovering from a near-fatal injury.
"Oh, and guess what!" Angie continued, excitement bubbling in her voice.
"I ran into Edward and Jacob! They were both asking about you. Hehe, looks like they still have a thing for you!"
"Bella, who would you pick if you had to choose? Personally, I think Edward is great — handsome, well-educated, rich. Total package, right?"
Bella smiled helplessly as Angie continued her enthusiastic gossip.
If she had to choose between dating and going to battle against Odin himself, she might very well choose the latter.
At least fighting Odin would be straightforward.
Romance?
Too messy.
Angie, oblivious to Bella's internal despair, kept chattering on and on, her voice bright and carefree.
Boom—!
A sudden rumble shook the ground.
Bella's senses sharpened immediately.
Lowering her coffee cup, she looked out through the restaurant's dusty window.
In the distance, across the endless stretch of desert, the sky had changed.
What had once been a bright blue afternoon had turned ominous.
A massive formation of dark clouds had appeared on the horizon, swirling and tumbling like a furious vortex descending from the heavens.
Within the churning clouds, flashes of eerie colors — gold, crimson, violet — danced like trapped lightning.
The energy radiating from the storm was so immense, so ancient, that Bella felt it deep in her bones.
The oppressive weight in the air spread rapidly.
Within moments, the cheerful sunlight had been blotted out, casting the small town into a gloom more fitting for a brewing apocalypse.
The townsfolk noticed it too.
One by one, people emerged from shops and homes, staring skyward with confusion and unease.
Phones were pulled out.
Photos and videos were snapped.
Whispers quickly turned into nervous conversations.
"Good grief, what the hell is going on with the weather?"
"This is insane! Is it gonna rain? Haven't seen anything like this in decades!"
"A typhoon?! In New Mexico?! That's impossible!"
"Maybe just a thunderstorm... right?"
"Man, if it blows my house away, I'm holding you responsible, Gary!"
"Your house is so flimsy, Gary, a strong sneeze could knock it over!"
"Hahaha! Someone get the camera ready! Gary's gonna be camping in the rubble tonight!"
The rugged old-timers of the desert — tough, resilient, half-Latin, half-cowboy bloodlines — didn't panic.
They cracked jokes, poked fun, and watched the looming threat with a mix of awe and stubborn bravado.
The western spirit — proud and unbreakable — lived strong in this little town.
"Bella? Bella, what's going on over there?" Angie's voice called out urgently from the phone, realizing Bella had gone silent.
Bella tore her gaze away from the swirling sky.
"It's fine, Angie. Don't worry," she said softly.
"I'll call you back later."
Ending the call, she slid the phone into her jacket and rose slowly.
Her green eyes, sharp and unblinking, were fixed on the distant horizon.
Through the layers of rolling clouds and shimmering energy, a figure emerged.
The Destroyer.
A massive, humanoid machine.
Nearly three meters tall, its body gleamed with ancient Asgardian metallurgy — smooth, seamless plates of enchanted metal formed a powerful armored shell.
It moved with terrifying purpose, every step heavy enough to crack the desert floor.
The Destroyer radiated pure, devastating power.
Bella narrowed her eyes.
She had been waiting for this.
At the same time, miles away from the town, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were scrambling.
Phil Coulson's unit, patrolling the area in black Chevrolet SUVs, had been the first to encounter the monster.
"Energy spike detected!" the agents reported urgently through comms.
Phil Coulson himself spotted the towering figure moving across the landscape, and his instincts screamed danger.
He didn't hesitate.
"Open fire!" he barked.
In an instant, a dozen agents unleashed a hail of bullets.
The SUVs bristled with mounted weapons, and even experimental energy rifles were brought to bear.
The desert echoed with gunfire and the sharp staccato of exploding rounds.
But it was useless.
The Destroyer barely flinched.
A low, mechanical hum built up in its chest.
Suddenly—
Boom!
A beam of concentrated energy shot from its helmet, cutting through the air like a sword of fire.
The beam hit an SUV dead-on.
The vehicle didn't just explode — it vaporized, turning into a brief, blinding ball of fire before nothing but scorched earth remained.
Phil Coulson shielded his face instinctively as the shockwave rolled over them.
Several agents were caught in the blast — their vehicles annihilated in an instant.
"Damn it! Fall back! Retreat now!" Coulson shouted.
The surviving agents scrambled into what cars they had left, speeding away from the burning wreckage.
In the chaos, Coulson dove into the passenger seat of an SUV, slamming the door shut as the vehicle peeled away from the incoming Destroyer.
"What the hell is that thing?" Coulson muttered under his breath, ignoring the cut bleeding on his forehead.
"Sir, whatever it is, we can't stop it. We need backup — real backup," the agent driving said grimly, white-knuckling the steering wheel.
Coulson looked back through the rear window.
The Destroyer wasn't pursuing them.
It was heading straight for the town.
"We won't be able to evacuate everyone in time," Coulson realized bitterly.
"Too many civilians, not enough time."
He pulled out his communicator.
"All units, evacuate the town immediately! This is not a drill!"
"Yes, sir!"
Even as the order went out, Coulson's mind raced.
We can't stop it.
But maybe... she can.
His thoughts turned to the mysterious woman — the one known as Saber, the Goddess of Judgment.
If anyone could face this walking cataclysm, it was her.
"Let's just hope the town survives," he muttered grimly.
Meanwhile, Bella stepped out of the diner.
The townspeople were already scattering.
The cheerful jokes from earlier had vanished.
Now, people were running — clutching their kids, dragging pets, stuffing belongings into pickups.
The Destroyer's massive frame loomed on the horizon, unmistakable against the boiling storm clouds.
Its metal body shimmered in the eerie light, and its footsteps echoed like war drums.
Bella stood in the center of the street, unflinching.
The wind tugged at her clothes, carrying the scent of ozone and coming battle.
Finally, she thought, her blood beginning to stir.
She had waited long enough for a real fight.
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