DiDi sighed as the door to her office closed.

Ben and May Parker would be watching them, because of course they would. Nobody doubted that he’d act to save his boy and daughter-in-law, or any of the Spiders, if they truly were to die.

The invaders would then pick up his cosmic signature, and hound him across the universe. It was almost ridiculous to think of, them being able to harry someone as powerful as the Molecule Man, but the Zoners had ways of interfering with cosmic powers, shutting down reality warpers, and generally just crippling beings at that level of power.

It was how they’d killed the ones in their own dimension, after all. Peter doing this might force Uncle Ben to reveal himself, and then things might get ugly.

They were already certain to go after Galactus, whose energy signature was known and His existence material, thus the easiest of them all to track. Galactus was also aware of that, and so plans were being made.

Well, Ben adding some reinforcements to the ship they’d make for the Parker boys wasn’t out of line at all, and easy enough to obfuscate...

-------------

“Master Briggs, we have some guests who have arrived outside the city.”

Tchernoborg’s voice rippled past his ear. Briggs grunted, as the Black God wasn’t prone to comment on matters like that.

“Who has come?” he asked the wind, hammering rapidly at the Shield before him.

“Asgardians. A thousand of them,” came the grimly amused reply. “They seek to volunteer for the coming invasion.”

“How many have gone through the Colosseum?” he asked the death god, continuing at his work.

The reply came a minute or two later. “About a hundred of them, Master Briggs.”

“Inform them that I have a Shield to finish. It will take me an hour, and to interrupt it is to lose the Shield. I will attend to them immediately after.”

“It will be done,” was the quiet reply.

------

He stepped through space onto the open field where the Bifrost had deposited the warriors of fabled Asgard.

These were the lands of the Dovnar, not the Asgardians, and Briggs could feel their wariness here, even as they played with bravado to conceal it. Both Perrun and Tchernoborg were here, and as the foremost warriors of the Rodnov, were beyond the capabilities of any of the Asgardians to deal with.

Of course, it was the woman who stepped through after him who attracted their eyes the most.

“Lady Sif!” sang out the voluminous Volstagg, taller than any other being here, and at least ten times as weighty (although he looked to have lost some weight). The great-bellied Lion of Asgard bounced forward to greet her, stretching out his hands to shake hers in happy greeting, while Fandral and Hogun followed him to pay their respects.

Briggs watched their expressions as they felt her presence crackling on their skin, and realized something had changed.

“Warriors of Asgard, I am Master Briggs.”

His Voice silenced every single conversation on the field. Divine or not, his Voice swept past them and overwhelmed every conversation, instantly dominating all of them.

Endure was in his hand, a Greathammer any of the warriors there would give an arm to wield. He was a head taller than all but the tallest of them, and they were experts in measuring strength. If he was dressed like a smith, it was exactly as he had said: He had just finished a Shield, and come to greet them. You don’t interrupt a magical smith at his trade.

“I welcome the warriors of Asgard to my mortal realm of Russia. I understand you have come here looking for a fight.”

There was a roar of eagerness, axes, hammers, swords, and spears rising up, some beating on shields with loud clangors for emphasis. Briggs surveyed them all, and despite themselves, the Asgardians were surprised when they felt his eyes alight on each and every one of them, measuring them, assessing them.

To be measured by a mortal was a new feeling to many of them!

“I have a question for you. Who among you has broken the top fifty on the Challenger List on the Colosseum? Weapon, Unarmed, or Unlimited, I do not care.”

The clamor was silenced at his words, and in its wake, there was silence as the many warriors of Asgard looked around themselves.

Nobody replied to Briggs. He could see their acute embarrassment.

“Top One hundred?” he continued reasonably. Exactly three hands rose into the air. “Please step over here, officers.” The other Asgardians blinked at the sudden awarding of Rank. “You all of course know that the Warriors Three reached the top fifty.”

Well, no, not all of them did, but the extra three men were greeted like old friends by the trio, and they paid their respects to Lady Sif.

“Who reached the top five hundred in the Unlimited Challenge?” he inquired, and a dozen more hands shot into the air. “Join your fellow officers.”

Briggs waited until they were standing aside before waving his hand. “In the interests of territorial disputes of the past with Asgard, treaties, and old grudges, I hereby note that these proud Volunteers of Vanaheim have come to engage in a rollicking good fight, and are not here at the behest of fabled Asgard. Do their officers agree?” He turned his attention on them, and all the gods present grinned and loudly confirmed that they were not here at the behest of Asgard, nay, but fair Vanaheim itself!

“Well and good. Be seated, honored Vanir.” Guffawing, the brawny and hairy warriors seated themselves on the ground, wondering what was going to happen.

“Mighty Vanir, you have fought many battles over the centuries and millennia. You have far more combat experience than any force of mortals alive on this world. That is good, because what I am saying now will only be of value to wise and experienced warriors.

“Those words are... you are not ready to fight in this war to come.”

His grim voice held such weight that even the brave and foolhardy warriors before him remained silent. His words pricked at their minds, of wisdom and experience, not rashness and bravery. Oh, they had the latter in plenty, but that was not what this mortal was looking for.

“The wars you have fought have been things of the Divine realms. Of beasts and gods, of savage warriors and fell sorceries, monsters from beyond and the dead walking.

“This is not one of those fights.

“This is a fight of science and psionics, of cosmic energies and truly numberless hordes, of beings from an entire universe and the countless galaxies within it, coming to this battle.” He surveyed the cool eyes regarding him with equal grimness. “There are ten times the number of entire worlds and more coming to this fight than there are Vanir here today.”

There was no shock or fear at the numbers, only cold and grim acceptance of the odds.

“The true power of a wise warrior is to know their opponents, measure them, and respond accordingly. These are not opponents you know, but they are opponents we must slay nigh-infinite numbers of. To face them, you must know of their arms and armor, and you must be armed appropriately to face them. The mortal realm you know best of is my fair Terra, but some of you have stories about the stars, and the many mortal races to be found on the great Colosseum as it journeys between stars, bringing the champions of many races together to fight honorably.

“There are dangers in the mortal realms you’ve not faced in the divine realms, and now I will show a small number of them to you.

“Hogun, you will be the war-captain for this event. Call forth a volunteer. You will judge when his combat effectiveness has been impeded, and end their turn without regard for his ego or toughness. Do you understand?”

“I do,” Hogun the Grim stated, stepping up and to the side. “Jolwerd!” he ordered crisply, pointing. The brawny blond-bearded axeman leapt to his feet and bounced to his place almost instantly.

“Dynamo, if you’re not busy?” Briggs said to the air next to him, and a Portal opened for Dynamo to step through.

She was naturally recognized, and loud and enthusiastic cheers and calls of greeting came to her. She waved at them all before turning back to Briggs.

“We are doing weapon tests and demonstrations for the proud and mighty Vanaheim Volunteers,” Briggs said with a straight face, and she just nodded with an interested expression and raised eyebrow at Sif and the Warriors Three there. “You are our most experienced warrior against the natives of the Negative Zone. I would give these wise warriors an understanding of what they will face.”

Dynamo turned to look at the thousand faces looking back at her, and then Jolwerd, grinning confidently forty yards away.

“Very well. We shall start small.” She flicked her hand, and an odd rifle appeared in her grip. The next second she took a step back, and heads jerked as she was suddenly sixty paces away. “Warrior, do not dodge. We are going to count how many hits you can take easily. This is a fairly-standard medium-range energy weapon, common throughout much of space on both sides. It is actually good for up to three hundred paces, but this is just for emphasis.

“Count with me.”

There was a hum and shriek of unhealthy particle beams, slamming into Jolwerd and making him jerk slightly, his ringed mail hissing. He scoffed at the impact, and then the second one hit a second later, giving him no rest.

He got through the first ten with little problem, then started having to brace for it, and grit his teeth as the shots hit twenty. At thirty, the first hole was blasted in his abused ring mail. At forty, he had multiple holes and burns were starting to spread upon his chest. At sixty, his armor was basically ruined, and penetration wounds were fused into his chest as he grimaced in pain and anger at the abuse he was taking.

“Time!” Hogun called out at seventy-four. “His weapon arm is damaged!” Everyone could see it plainly.

“I can still-” Jolwerd began to protest.

“You’re done!” Hogun cut him off. There was a zip of motion, and Dynamo was standing in front of him.

“Peace, warrior. You have shown them all something they did not know.” Her hand was placed on his chest, and he gasped as lightning played over his chest, through him, and his wounds began to close and vanish at visible speed. “Moreover, there is a point to this.”

She gestured, and a line drew itself up in the air, obviously an illusion.

It was of thousands of alien troopers, scattered in little clusters for hundreds of paces in every direction, and they all bore a weapon exactly like the one she had in her hand.

Despite themselves, the Asgardians all blinked as the soldiers aimed, particle effects hummed, and discharged right at Jolwerd.

Despite himself, he flinched as the shots vanished into nothingness, never reaching him.

“You would now be dead, Master Jolwerd.” She held up the plasma rifle for all of them to see. “Weapons of similar power exist by the millions and billions. One-on-one, this is not a threat to you. A thousand-to-one, and if enough hit you, you will die, because you aren’t going to be able to kill them fast enough... without being very fast, and very clever.

“Dismiss mortal weapons like this and die, noble Vanir.”

The expressions they had were interesting as she finished healing up Jolwerd. His armor was still ruined, but he didn’t begrudge it as he found his seat.

==========

The classic tribes of Aesir and Vanir in Norse Mythology were forcibly combined by Odin in Marveldom. His wife, Frigga, is the daughter of the old Vanir chief Frey (peace via marriage), and thus the two peoples formed the Marvel Asgardians.

Balder and Tyr are Odin’s children by Frigga in Marvel, while Thor is the son of Gaia. Heimdall, hmm, is also an Odinson, but in myth had nine nymphs for his mothers...