- Location
- Germany
Ozborn making his move?
or rather he made to make an opening move for the Mandarin?
HammerTime (MCU OC/SI into Justin Hammer)
- Thread starter JollyHippo
- Start date
Ozborn making his move?
or rather he made to make an opening move for the Mandarin?
Chapter 38: God of...
Here's chapter 38: God of…
Here's the new chappie, to no one's surprise, won again on patron.
Things are beginning to warm up, war is on the horizon, fun stuff.
And Hela is back, with a very quick cameo from a marvel villain as well.
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc.
Hope you enjoy.
Hammerhaven, two hours after the attack began,
Justin stood at the edge of the grand main square in Hammerhaven, his eyes trained on the Asgardians gathered before him. Around him, some of the Earth's most powerful leaders or their representatives were arrayed like pieces on a chessboard, a parade of forced smiles and stiff posture. President Ellis stood to his left, flanked by Secret Service agents, while Alexander Pierce hovered nearby, his usual air of cool arrogance only slightly marred by the tension in his eyes. Both men wore carefully neutral expressions, but Justin could feel the simmering resentment beneath the surface.
Mixed with the feeling of frustration, as they were all stuck here, while the US military performed terrorist actions on home soil.
They all knew what was happening while they wasted time on this.
Justin's heart pounded with frustration, though his outward demeanor remained calm. His implant buzzed every few minutes with updates from Nail, the reports detailing the destruction being wrought across the United States by the rogue power armors - the armors acting like drones, turning on his factories, offices, and clinics. The attacks weren't happening in Hammerhaven, of course. That would have made them easy to repel. Instead, they were targeting his operations all over the country, and not every facility had the defenses in place to fend off a fully armed, armored assault.
The most recent update had been particularly grim. Nail had whispered in his ear: Four factories gone. Hundreds dead. And the carnage was still unfolding.
Ellis and Pierce should have been dealing with the same chaos, considering these attacks were happening on U.S. soil. But instead, they were standing there, forced to watch Thor and his Einherjar prepare to leave, bound by the unspoken agreement between them that Earth couldn't look weak in front of Asgard. The entire square was lined with SHIELD agents, Secret Service personnel, and assorted guards from various world leaders, their faces pale and strained. Everyone knew what was going on, yet no one could make a move until the damn aliens were gone.
Thor, for his part, appeared utterly oblivious to the rising tension in the air. Standing atop the grand marble steps at the heart of Hammerhaven's main square, he was in the middle of a long-winded speech. His booming voice echoed through the streets, as if unaware that the world leaders arrayed before him were barely listening. His words were full of talk about friendship and brotherhood between Midgard and Asgard, about how, should any troubles arise, his hammer would be ready to answer the call.
Justin kept his polite smile in place, but inside, he wanted to scream. Just leave already, he thought, clenching his jaw. All he could do was stand there, his hands neatly folded in front of him, waiting for the Asgardians to finally go.
Even when they weren't even doing anything, they managed to make his life more annoying.
Nail's voice came through his implant again, soft and precise. "Sir, casualties are now estimated at over a thousand. The rogue power armors are continuing to hit our key facilities, though Storm has successfully protected the New York offices."
Justin's teeth ground together as he forced a nod, as if agreeing with something Thor had said. His eyes flicked briefly to Ellis, whose face was now twitching in barely contained frustration. The U.S. President was a smart man.- he had to be boiling inside, knowing his country was under siege by his own forces, yet bound by decorum to stand here, smiling at Thor's speech. Pierce looked equally strained, his eyes flicking over to Justin every so often, as if seeking an explanation or an outlet for his frustration.
If this was a normal diplomatic party, they could have made their excuses, but this was a different planet. Alien diplomats, no one wanted to be the ones left out or making a bad impression on their new 'allies'.
Thor's speech finally began to wind down, his face glowing with the pride of a man who thought he had just accomplished something great. With one final, grand gesture, he raised Mjolnir high into the air, calling out, "Midgard and Asgard will now be allies for eternity!"
He expected cheers obviously. Instead, the crowd - made up mostly of politicians, diplomats and military brass - responded with a half-hearted smattering of applause. Their claps were more perfunctory than anything, a polite gesture rather than true enthusiasm. No one was in the mood for celebration when things were this uncertain.
Even people generally disliking the US were walking on tiptoes, if the US military was going rogue, that was an issue that got the entire world panicking, who knew who could be next?
Thor's smile faltered for a moment, clearly confused by the lukewarm response. Freyja, ever perceptive, stepped forward and laid a gentle hand on her son's arm, guiding him back. Her gaze turned toward Justin, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she approached.
"I thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Hammer," Freyja said in a tone that was both regal and warm, her voice carrying easily over the muted buzz of the square. "Though I must say, it wasn't necessary for you to maintain such a front during the battle you're facing right now. I wouldn't have taken offense."
Justin stiffened slightly, though he kept his face a perfect mask of calm. Of course, she knew. Why wouldn't she? The queen mother of Asgard wasn't blind to what was happening on Earth, even as her people prepared to depart. Fucking Magic no doubt, or Heimdall and his cheating peepers… But there was no way in hell he was about to discuss Earth's, or Hammer industries internal security matters with an alien, no matter how well-meaning she appeared.
"I'm afraid this is as much for the people behind me as it is for yourself, my lady," Justin replied smoothly, his tone impeccably polite. He inclined his head in acknowledgment, giving away nothing else.
Freyja's smile widened, the amusement in her eyes growing. "I see. A show for appearances, then." She took a step closer, extending her hand toward him for a handshake. "This is Midgarda custom, no?" Her tone was playful, but there was a glint in her eye that made Justin wary.
He took her hand, the warmth of her grip surprising. As they shook, he felt something slip into his palm - a small, thin piece of parchment, neatly folded. Freyja gave him a knowing look, her eyes dancing with mirth.
"Another Midgard custom," She said with a wink, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "For subterfuge. I saw it in one of your moving pictures." She sounded genuinely delighted by the concept. "The location of your target, as provided by Heimdall."
Justin blinked, glancing down at the parchment now nestled in his hand. He hadn't expected that. His pulse quickened, the implications of what she had just handed him sinking in. Sinister.
He quickly schooled his features back into calm neutrality and bowed his head slightly. "I thank you, my lady," He murmured, his voice carefully measured. His mind, however, was racing. I have you now, Sinister.
Freyja gave him one last, appraising look, her smile softening into something almost cryptic. "Soon, I would think," She said, her voice carrying a note of quiet mystery that made Justin raise an eyebrow. "Yes, any day now." She added, humming melodically.
Before he could respond, she turned and rejoined the throng of Asgardians, her graceful steps taking her back toward Thor's side. The God of Thunder raised his hammer once more, calling out for Heimdall in his booming voice. A heartbeat later, the sky above Hammerhaven lit up with the swirling colors of the Bifrost. The air vibrated with the hum of ancient magic, and within moments, the Asgardians were gone - vanished in a brilliant flash of light.
The moment the light faded, Justin's polite facade cracked, his expression hardening as he turned his gaze toward the remaining humans. President Ellis was already moving, his security detail quickly surrounding him as they began escorting him away from the square - no doubt heading for a secure bunker, no way they were risking using Air Force One right now. Ellis shot Justin a withering look as he passed, clearly displeased with the events of the summit.
"Good riddance," Justin muttered under his breath, already thinking ahead to what needed to be done. Ellis had been useful, but Justin was getting to a point where who was the head of state of any given nation didn't matter.
They'd all have no choice but to fall in line.
Europe had been the test bed.
Alexander Pierce did not leave so easily however, Justin noted with distaste. As Ellis disappeared into the crowd, Pierce approached, his own contingent of SHIELD agents ensuring no one else came near them. His expression was calm, almost jovial, but his eyes were sharp and cold.
"Justin," Pierce said, his tone light, though there was an unmistakable edge to it. "You didn't feel the need to inform me that you'd already made a deal with Asgard?"
Does a bear inform the fish it's about to be a meal? He thought with a smidgeon of amusement. If Ellis was getting superfluous soon, Pierce was getting uppity, Nail was watching them closely, and HYDRA had been making waves lately…
Including dealing with the Hellfire Club, and the Mandarin on the sly.
It made Justin think they'd outlived their usefulness.
Justin slipped the parchment Freyja had given him into his pocket with a smooth, practiced motion. He turned to face Pierce, one hand in his pocket, the other casually hanging at his side. "Pierce, we're allies of a sort, but that doesn't make you my nursemaid. I don't need to tell you everything." He drawled, an amused quirk to his lips.
Pierce's smile tightened, his eyes narrowing. "Not much of an alliance, then."
"Maybe not," Justin agreed, shrugging slightly. "Do you wish to end it?"
The words hung in the air like a challenge, and Justin watched with some satisfaction as Pierce's face momentarily froze, his eyes narrowing as if he were considering his options. But in the end, Pierce's expression twisted into a grimace, as though he'd swallowed something bitter.
"No," Pierce said finally, though his tone was clipped. "I am just… Expressing my displeasure at being kept out of the loop."
Justin let out a low, humorless chuckle. "Speaking of being out of the loop, why did SHIELD fail to check for backdoors in the goblin power armors? Especially after the Green Goblin became a thing…"
Too bad he'd already taken Ross, he'd have really enjoyed watching the man realize his warnings way back when - had come to fruition.
But he couldn't taunt the dead. And Ross was unfortunately no longer with them.
So sad.
Anyway…
"It seems a little bit of an oversight, don't you think?" Justin added, just to twist the dagger a little.
Pierce's face tightened further, his lips pressing into a thin line. "We did check."
Justin raised an eyebrow, his voice dry. "Should I compliment your utter incompetence, then?"
Pierce's jaw clenched, the faintest twitch of anger flickering across his face. Justin felt a surge of satisfaction in treating Pierce like nothing more than a buzzing irritant - an obstacle to be swatted away rather than someone he needed to fear.
Pierce remained rigid, his face an impassive mask despite the palpable frustration radiating from him. "I suspect infiltration and subversion of the reports," He said, his voice tight with barely contained anger.
SHIELD or HYDRA same difference in competency, Justin thought derisively. He smiled, sharp and mocking. "So, incompetence, then. Good to know." He checked his wristwatch nonchalantly, as if dismissing the conversation entirely. "Oh look, time flies. I need to deal with this attack, seeing as SHIELD isn't doing much to help." His tone dripped with contempt as he casually turned on his heel, walking away from Pierce without a backward glance.
"Justin…" Pierce growled, his voice low with warning.
But Justin didn't stop, didn't acknowledge him further. He was done with Pierce, done playing games with the so-called ally who seemed more like a liability by the day. Instead, he strode toward his offices, Domino and a contingent of his personal security team falling into line beside him like clockwork.
The tension in the air was thick as they walked, Justin's mind raced, sorting through the reports Nail had fed him over the past hour. The damage was already catastrophic for his reputation, and the losses were stacking higher with each passing minute.
Storm, Yelena, and Phantazia were already on the ground, leading the H.A.M.M.E.R. team to pacify the rogue armors. But even with their expertise, there were simply too many targets, and the damage was spiraling out of control.
As soon as they entered the towering structure of Hammer Industries' headquarters, Justin's calm mask slipped, his expression darkening as the automatic doors sealed shut behind them. The tension that had coiled in his chest during Thor's agonizingly long farewell speech now surged to the surface.
"Nail, any new information?" He asked sharply, his voice carrying through the halls as they made their way toward his private office.
Nail's voice, soft and composed, responded instantly in his ear. "Sir, the tally now includes five factories that are completely destroyed, two others in major disrepair, and two office buildings gone. Additionally, seven Panacea clinics have been wiped out."
Justin's teeth clenched as he absorbed the news, his eyes narrowing in frustration. "Casualties?" He asked, though he already knew the answer wasn't going to be good.
His average employees did not have Extremis, they just had access to Panacea at differing levels depending on their position. His security teams all had the treatments, but lacked flight capabilities to truly contest the Goblin armors before they got in range and began firing missiles and bombs.
"The death toll is still being calculated, but it has reached over one thousand civilians. Many of your employees were caught in the initial attacks," Nail added, her voice tinged with something close to regret, though the AI remained mostly clinical in her delivery.
Justin growled deep in his throat, a vicious sound that made Domino glance at him out of the corner of her eye. The attack wasn't just on his factories and clinics; it was an attack on his reputation. Whoever had orchestrated this knew exactly how to strike, where to hit him where it hurt.
They're trying to weaken me, to undermine my power, he thought bitterly. Murdering my people…
Striking just as he'd made a big deal about protecting humanity… Making him out to be a liar…
"How many of the armors are left operational?" He demanded, his fists clenched tightly as he resisted the urge to take out his anger on the nearest piece of furniture. He'd deployed the Iron Legion, but they'd been too far away to stop most of the attacks.
Not to say they'd been ineffectual once they got there, just… Too little too late, and now he'd have to deal with governments freaking out that he had a drone army, during a crisis where a drone army was attacking.
Perhaps he should have kept the Legion back…
"Less than fifty remain," Nail confirmed. "Storm and the others are actively hunting them down. New York's operations are intact - Storm managed to protect it entirely without any damage, somewhat assisted by local heroes stepping in immediately."
Domino let out a low whistle. "New girl's got game," She murmured, her tone more impressed than surprised.
Justin gritted his teeth, his eyes glowing faintly with barely contained fury. "Not now, Domino," He snapped. His mind was already calculating his next move, weighing the possibilities. This attack had come at the worst possible time - just as he was showing the world that he was the only one who could protect them, this happened.
He fished into his pocket, pulling out the small piece of parchment Freyja had slipped him during their handshake. It was a curious move on her part, she was definitely Loki's mother, but Justin wasn't complaining. The contents of the parchment - Sinister's location - could be the key to get something out of this entire mess.
"Nail," He said, his voice tight with focus, "I want every satellite available around this location, in case he escapes again." He unfolded the parchment, scanning the coordinates written in Freyja's neat hand. "I'm going for Sinister. Right now."
Domino's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of concern passing over her usually unshakable expression. She coughed lightly, her voice a touch hesitant. "Uh, boss, are you sure about that? You're not letting your anger cloud your judgment, are you?"
Justin shot her an irritated look, his fists still balled at his sides. "Shut up, Domino. You're coming with me, and we'll be fine," He said curtly.
Domino sighed, shaking her head in exasperation. "Eileen is going to be so pissed at me," She muttered under her breath, her tone half-joking but tinged with real frustration. "I need a raise…"
"Actually we'll make one stop first…" Justin said, opening a portal.
"Oh, fantastic…" Domino said sarcastically, looking through the portal as they stepped through.
Malibu, California,
Tony Stark stepped through the front door of the Malibu mansion with his arms full of shopping bags, expertly kicking the door shut with his hip. The warm, salty ocean breeze filtered in through the large windows, filling the air with the scent of the sea as the house's ambient lighting flickered on in the hallway in response to his arrival.
"Honey, I'm home! And I bring gifts!" Tony called out with his usual bravado, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips as he sauntered down the hallway, arms weighed down with brightly colored bags.
Pepper appeared from the living room, a relieved smile on her face. Her gaze flicked to the collection of bags in Tony's arms, her brow lifting in curiosity before her expression settled into something more deadpan. "Someone's in a better mood," She remarked, her voice wry. "But, Tony, why are all the bags from Victoria's Secret?"
Tony's eyes widened in faux innocence, as if the question had truly stumped him. "Is that any way to greet a hardworking man who comes home with a little something, something for his girl?" He raised his eyebrows and put on his most exaggerated charming expression, holding the bags up like a trophy.
Pepper crossed her arms, biting back a smile, though the twitch at the corners of her lips gave her away. "Is it really a gift for me? Because it seems like you're the one who's going to enjoy it the most," She fired back, her eyes narrowing playfully.
Tony swept past her with a loud kiss on the cheek, heading toward the kitchen nook, his stride light and carefree. He dropped the bags unceremoniously on the counter and went straight for the espresso machine, giving it a light whack to coax it to life. "Isn't my enjoyment your enjoyment or something like that?" He quipped, glancing over his shoulder at her with a mischievous grin. "Like, in sickness and in health? For richer or poorer? You know, the usual?"
Pepper followed him into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as she folded her arms, pretending to be exasperated though her amusement was clear. "Not quite how that works, but I'm glad you're feeling better."
Tony hummed in agreement, tapping the side of the espresso machine again as it whirred to life. "It's weird, right?" He said, his voice quieter now, more contemplative. He turned to look at her fully, the weight of his thoughts momentarily flashing in his eyes. "I mean, I'm still upset. But… I've made my decision, I've chosen a way forward, and it's like this… Mountain has been lifted off my back."
Pepper's expression softened as she moved closer, slipping her arms around him from behind, resting her head lightly against his back. "I'm happy for you, Tony," Ehe said softly, her fingers trailing gently over his chest. "Are you going to share what exactly you've decided? Or do I have to guess?"
Tony smiled at the warmth of her touch, leaning into her embrace for a moment before turning around to face her, his arms wrapping around her waist. "Don't worry, it's nothing involving the Playboy Bunny of the Year. That's next month." He grinned as Pepper swatted at his shoulder, laughing as she tried to hide her own smile.
"Jarvis, what's he up to?" Pepper said, raising an eyebrow in Tony's direction, her tone mock-serious as if seeking out a secret Tony wouldn't tell her. "You're always with this lughead. Spill."
Tony snorted. "Like Jarvis would ever betray the bro code, right, Jarv?"
Jarvis's calm, British voice filled the room. "I'm afraid, sir, that the 'bro code' does not supersede Mrs Stark's' level of access. He met with Justin Hammer approximately two and a half hours ago, and took a portal back to California."
Pepper's eyes narrowed as she looked up at Tony, who winced slightly at the revelation.
"Uh, Pep… What're you doing?" Tony asked nervously as she grabbed his face in both hands, inspecting him as if searching for something.
"Just checking for signs of mind control," She said, her eyes narrowing further as her hands remained on either side of his head. "Why are you happier after seeing that monster?"
Tony grimaced, letting out a sigh. "Okay, look, I forgot you kinda hate the guy." His voice dropped, taking on a more apologetic tone.
"Sir," Jarvis interrupted dryly, "Should I remind you of the purchase you made earlier today, specifically to beg for forgiveness when Mrs Stark found out?"
Pepper's unimpressed gaze bored into Tony as he let out a more exaggerated sigh. "Jarvis!" Tony exclaimed. "Bro code!"
"My apologies, sir," Jarvis replied, unbothered, "But I am still following the standing protocol: when it comes to Justin Hammer, report everything to Mrs Stark."
Tony groaned. "Not on me!" He shook his head, wagging a finger, "I don't know who made you this snarky, buddy…"
Pepper remained silent, her arms crossed and her foot tapping impatiently. "Tony…"
Tony sighed, shoulders slumping. "Okay, okay. So, I might have signed Stark Industries on for a few deals with Hammer to develop… Space. A space fleet, asteroid mining. And, y'know, a few other minor things."
Pepper's expression didn't change, though she slowly nodded. "Financially, that's… Well, it'll be amazing. It'll make up for the losses we've taken in the electronics market, but Tony… Hammer? Really?"
Tony looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "I owe him one, Pep. And… Look, if you take a good, hard look at the world right now, do you see a better option? Just look at what he's done. What we could do if we worked together."
Pepper closed her eyes, rubbing her temples as if trying to stave off a growing headache. "Tony, he's destroying governments."
Tony winced again, clearly uncomfortable with her words. "Yeah… But Pep, tell me people have it worse right now. What have the governments really done to help? Every disaster we've seen, every threat… The government can't handle any of it." He brightened up momentarily, "And he's going to give me access to Pym particles, Pep, Pym particles!"
That alone made it worth it. He wasn't blind to Hammer's faults. He just… Saw that everyone else sucked just as bad, but Hammer was actually improving things. So it gave him only one real alternative.
Pepper sighed, her hand dropping as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "That's not a good enough reason to upend democracy, Tony. Just because the government is struggling doesn't mean someone like Hammer should have free rein."
Tony frowned, the conflict clear in his expression. He stepped forward, taking her hands gently in his. "Tell me to fight him, and I will." His voice was reluctant, but there was sincerity in it.
Pepper was silent for a long time, her eyes closing as she leaned into his chest, her thoughts swirling. Minutes passed in quiet contemplation as Tony held her, his heartbeat steady beneath her cheek.
Finally, she spoke, her voice soft. "I'll follow your lead."
Tony let out a sigh of relief, holding her tighter.
In his mind, he replayed the moment in Hammer's office. The moment Justin had handed him the remote. The moment that had changed everything.
Tony could've let Ross go. He could've reported Hammer for kidnapping the man, gone to the government and fought Hammer every step of the way.
Or…
He could press the button. Get revenge for Rhodey. Join Hammer, and in doing so, improve the lives of millions. Maybe billions.
As he stood there, holding Pepper close and breathing in her familiar scent, Tony knew he couldn't regret it.
Ross had died screaming.
And Tony…
He was okay with that.
New York City,
Jean Grey landed softly on the rooftop of a high-rise building in New York City, her feet barely making a sound as she touched down beside Storm, who was already perched on the edge. The wind tugged at their hair and clothing, carrying the distant hum of city life up from below. Storm sat with her legs dangling off the side of the building, gazing out over the sprawling urban landscape, her long white hair flowing freely in the wind. She patted the ledge next to her, inviting Jean to sit down.
"What's the news?" Jean asked quietly, not quite sure how to talk to Ororo now that they weren't on the same team anymore. It felt strange, distant. Their shared history stretched back so far, but now, things were different. The line between them felt palpable, like an unspoken boundary she didn't know what to do with.
Storm didn't seem fazed by the change, though. She gave a small nod toward the city, her voice calm, but a faint shadow of frustration darkened her expression. "No more threats spotted in the vicinity of New York. We're basically just waiting for the all-clear that all the armors have been taken down."
Jean glanced at her, sensing the underlying tension. "It sounds like it's been rough."
Storm's mouth quirked in a grim smile. "You could say that. It's… Unsettling, knowing the soldiers trapped inside those armors had no control. They were turned into drones, their voices…" Her voice trailed off, her frown deepening. "I tried to take them down without killing anyone, but… It's power armor. Some needed more force than others, and I'm not sure I always succeeded."
Spiderman had honestly been more successful than her at that. His webs were perfect for non lethal takedowns, even if he couldn't handle the amount of enemies Storm could.
They'd been lucky New York had so many local heroes, or the damage could have been horrible.
Jean sighed, wrapping her arms around her knees as she sat down beside Storm. Her posture was slumped, and her face mirrored the heaviness she felt in her heart. "It seems like there's just more violence every day," She muttered, her eyes focusing on a point far in the distance. "The mess in Europe, now this… When does it end?"
Storm glanced at Jean, her usual serene demeanor marred by a flicker of sadness. "It ends when someone wins," She murmured quietly. Her words carried a weight that Jean wasn't prepared for, but they rang with truth. It was a bitter reality, but Storm had long since accepted it.
Violence was inherently human, and wouldn't disappear, but war? War could be removed from the equation eventually. Even if the manner of the solution didn't fill Storm with joy.
"Is that why you joined Justin Hammer fully?" Jean asked, her voice soft, hesitant. She had wanted to ask this question since the beginning, but it felt heavy on her tongue, like an accusation she didn't want to make.
Storm's lips quirked upward slightly in a teasing smile. "Ah, is that the real reason you sought me out?" She asked, gently ruffling Jean's hair. "Not for my company, but to pump me for information?"
Jean pouted, a faint huff escaping her lips as she pulled away slightly. "Don't tease me, Ororo," She said, her voice a little petulant. "I just… I want to know what I'm supposed to do now. Everything feels like it's shifting, and I don't know where I fit anymore."
Storm hummed thoughtfully, leaning back slightly as she watched the clouds drift lazily across the sky. "I can't answer that for you, Jean," She said after a moment, her tone soft but firm. "Everyone has to make their own choice about where they stand in the coming days."
It was becoming clear. Even the regular citizens were seeing it.
You were either Pro-Hammer, or you weren't. There were no bystanders in this choice.
Jean's brow furrowed, her expression growing more frustrated. "Do we really have to draw lines like that?" She asked, her voice tinged with sadness. "Why can't we all just… Get along? Why does it always have to come down to picking sides?"
"It doesn't work like that," Storm replied gently, her eyes soft with compassion. She wished it were different, but they both knew better. "There are always sides. People will always choose their path, whether they want to or not."
"Yeah," Jean muttered, her head dropping slightly as the weight of Storm's words settled on her shoulders.
After a moment of silence, Jean turned her head slightly toward Storm. "Why did you do it?" She asked quietly. "Why join Hammer? Was it because of the Professor?"
Storm shook her head, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she leaned her shoulder against Jean's. Her hand reached over, grasping one of Jean's gently. "Not entirely. Although, I won't say it had no effect." She gazed out over the city, her eyes distant. "You have to understand, Jean… The writing on the wall is already there. Hammer will take over the world. In some ways, he already has."
The world economy was now tied to him to such an extent he could destroy the world by just… Stopping things, pulling back.
The rest was now simply the bloody business of making the rest of the world acknowledge the fact that Hammer held all the power.
Jean's eyes widened in disbelief. "And how can you agree with that?" She asked, her tone a mix of sadness and disbelief.
Storm looked at Jean with a serious expression, her voice steady. "Because rejecting reality does me no favors. You might see it as selling my soul, but I'm ensuring that metahumans will continue to be treated fairly. I'm positioning myself where I can make a difference, where I can influence things for the better." She raised an eyebrow, "Would you rather Emma Frost or me as an influence?"
Jean opened her mouth to speak, but Storm cut her off with a small, knowing smile. "Hammer tends to think with his… Well, you know. Like any man."
Jean gasped, her face turning bright red as her hand flew to her mouth. "Ororo… You didn't!"
Storm chuckled softly, shaking her head. "It was necessary, Jean. Every emperor in history has had a woman behind the throne, influencing his decisions for good or bad. I like to think I'll be able to help the good win out more often than not."
Her smile became somewhat impish, "And it's not like it's a chore… He even made me lose control, and that doesn't happen often anymore…"
Jean looked at Storm in a mix of fascination and horror. "But… He already has so many women around him. How can you stand that?" Her voice was barely a whisper, as if speaking it aloud would make it even more real.
Storm laughed, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh, that just means he knows what he's doing," She said with a wink, causing Jean's face to flush even redder. "Besides, for all his… Well, let's call them 'manslut' ways, he's surprisingly loyal to just a few women."
Jean shook her head, still looking thoroughly scandalized. "And you're going to be one of them?"
Storm hummed, her tone thoughtful. "Maybe. For all that he gathers women around him, he seems genuinely interested in finding 'the one.' We'll see what happens. But I need to remain close to him, Jean. To influence our future, if he turned fully to evil..."
She smiled at Jean, her eyes soft and full of warmth, though there was a trace of sadness there. "I hope you don't look down on me too much for this, Jean. It's necessary. And I'm not in any way unhappy. He saved Africa, after all. I owe him more than I can say."
Gaia had also approved of Storms choice, the environmental impacts Hammer made cleaning up the world as a byproduct of what he did, had made him a champion of Gaia in a way, although not anything official. Democracy didn't matter one whit to the spirit of Earth. And Storm had to reluctantly admit that if she had to be pick between democracy and all the benefits Hammer had brought, it wouldn't even be that difficult of a choice.
Democracy had hardly helped metahumans, the voice of the common man had been inherently uncaring of their issues, for those who knew.
Jean remained quiet for several minutes, her mind whirling with everything Storm had said. "This is so complicated," She groaned, finally letting out a frustrated sigh. She gave Storm a side hug, leaning into her friend's warmth. "I would never look down on you, but I don't think I could make the same choice."
Storm laughed, her voice light and teasing. "I hope not. I don't need the competition."
"Ororo!" Jean cried, her face flushing red once more as she swatted at her friend's arm.
They fell into a comfortable silence after that, the wind tugging at their hair as they watched the city below. The quiet was comforting, though the weight of the decisions they both faced hung heavy in the air between them.
After a while, Storm spoke again, her voice thoughtful. "You know… My position at UNESCO is open right now," She said softly, glancing sideways at Jean.
Jean bit her lip, looking down at her lap. "I don't know if I can do that to the Professor," She admitted, her voice small.
Storm nodded, her eyes distant as she thought over Jean's words. "How are they all doing, anyway?" She asked after a moment. "I've been keeping myself busy lately."
Jean looked away, her expression tightening. "Logan and Hank have both left…" She muttered, her voice barely audible, "Scott is trying to clamp down on everyone else, which is just making it so more of them want to leave, I think Kitty is almost ready to run away… She took the deaths hard…"
Storm sighed softly, her heart heavy. "Not surprising," She admitted quietly.
She hoped Logan wouldn't do something stupid, she knew recruiting him for Hammer was a non-starter.
Jean stared out at the skyline, her thoughts far away. "I don't know what I'm going to do, Ororo," She said softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Storm ruffled Jean's hair gently, her smile warm and reassuring. "Whatever you feel is right," She murmured. "Whether that's staying, joining me, or going your own way. Only you know the answer."
Jean closed her eyes for a moment, letting the silence stretch out between them. When she opened them again, she looked out at the city below, her heart heavy with the decision she'd known she needed to make for a while now.
"I don't want to stay at the mansion anymore."
"Okay."
Same time, Namibia, Africa.
Hela lounged in the warband's ruined camp, bathed in the harsh African sun as she meticulously cleaned blood from the intricate designs on one of her black leather boots. The camp was a shattered husk of what it once was - broken tents and smoldering fires were all that remained. She admired the stillness of it, how perfectly silent and dead it was now after her work. The warband had fallen quickly, and Hela had taken her time, enjoying their destruction, though the thrill had been fleeting. The enemies had been... Inadequate. She tilted her head, lost in thought, barely interested in the feeble resistance they'd offered.
They used child soldiers for Norn's sake! How ridiculous was that?
Everyone knew children made better assassins and spies.
Her eyes flicked up just as a spear whizzed past her, just as she tilted her head nonchalantly, the spear neatly avoiding her by an inch. She didn't even flinch.
"Better," She mused, her voice smooth and detached, her lips curling into a faint smile. "Not by much, but better."
A figure emerged from the treeline, stepping into the decimated camp. He was dressed in animal furs and leathers, the skins of lions and tigers draped over his broad, muscular shoulders. His physique was that of a warrior - solid, honed, and lethal. His eyes, sharp and wild, gleamed with hunger, and his long, dark hair fell in tangled waves over his shoulders. His face was half-hidden beneath a lion's mane, fashioned into a headdress.
Hela was almost interested, if only she couldn't feel how weak the man was, for someone of her stature.
The man carried a confidence that bordered on arrogance, his every step exuding the energy of a beast in pursuit of its prey. His grin was feral, showing off a row of sharp white teeth. The large hunting knife strapped to his side and the quiver of spears slung across his back seemed merely accessories to his raw physical power.
"I am Kraven the Hunter," He declared, his voice thick with relish, with some accent she couldn't identify - as she barely paid attention to the ants that scurried across this planet. "I have come to hunt a god!"
Hela's smile deepened, her fingers still absentmindedly wiping at the boot. She eyed him, intrigued by the boldness he displayed. It was still useless, but at least it was amusing.
Kraven grinned wider, his eyes gleaming. "This camp was a trap for you. And you've stepped right into it, Goddess."
Hela raised an eyebrow, a glint of amusement flashing across her sharp features. She slowly rose from her lounging position, standing tall, her dark armor gleaming under the African sun. Her gaze appraised him, taking in the wildness, the hunger. Her smile became dangerous, her eyes dancing with dark amusement.
"Think highly of yourself, don't you?" She said, her voice lilting with mockery. "You're above this rabble, I'll give you that. But in this situation…" Her grin sharpened, ferocious and predatory. "You're the prey, and I'm the huntress."
Kraven let out a booming laugh, stepping forward with confidence. "We shall see!" His voice vibrated with excitement, the thrill of the hunt coursing through him. His hand hovered near his blade, eager to test himself against this formidable creature.
Suddenly, a swirling orange portal opened just to the side of them, casting warm light across the ravaged camp. Hela didn't look away from Kraven, but her eyes flickered with interest at the arrival. Out stepped Justin Hammer, followed closely by Domino, who wore her usual unimpressed expression as she surveyed the scene.
Justin ignored Kraven completely, his focus solely on Hela. "I'm going after the worm behind Apocalypse," He announced, his voice tight with suppressed fury. "After much thought.."
Domino cleared her throat, murmuring under her breath, "Nagging." The word was just loud enough to elicit an irritated twitch from Justin.
He shot her a glare before continuing, "After much thought," He said loudly, emphasizing the words, "I've decided that backup is not amiss. I figured you might want to get your own pound of flesh, Hela."
Hela tilted her head, resting her chin in her hand as she considered him. "Maybe later," She replied, her tone dripping with lazy amusement. "Mommy's busy right now." Her eyes were locked on Kraven, the tension between them crackling with bloodlust.
Kraven bared his teeth in a wide grin, the wild excitement only growing at the new arrivals. "Get out of the way, Hammer!" He growled, his voice filled with confidence. "This woman is mine!"
Domino winced, muttering, "Oh, shouldn't have said it like that..."
Justin's expression hardened, and the air around him seemed to pulse with rising power. His anger, already simmering from the recent attacks on his business and reputation, boiled over. He didn't have time for distractions, not when Sinister was within reach. With a quick motion, a small portal opened over his hand, and the glowing Power Stone slid into his grasp. Energy surged through him, crackling with unimaginable force. Hela straightened, intrigued as she watched the display, her eyes gleaming with interest.
One moment, Kraven was standing tall, confident in his hunt. The next, Justin was upon him, his hand outstretched. He slammed his glowing hand into Kraven's chest, and the world seemed to explode.
A massive shockwave burst from the impact, ripping through the earth and sky alike. Smoke and dust billowed upward as the ground beneath them split open, and when the haze finally cleared, a massive gorge stretched several miles wide in front of them. Kraven was gone, erased from existence in a single, brutal moment.
Justin's voice was flat, unyielding. "You're coming with me. Right now." His body still pulsed with energy as he opened another portal, sliding the Power Stone away.
Hela stood, her interest piqued, and sauntered over to him. She ran a finger along the edge of his suit, her lips curling into a playful smile. "Hmm, your domains are almost there, little godling," She murmured, her voice like silk. "Grab the stone again, and I believe they will settle…"
Justin's eyes flicked to her, considering the offer. After a moment, he dismissed it with a wave. "Not important right now." He motioned to the portal. "Kill everything on the other side, except Sinister."
Hela's eyes lit up with excitement, her bloodlust palpable in the air. "You do know how to show me a good time," She purred, stepping through the portal without hesitation.
Domino cast Justin a wary glance, raising an eyebrow. "You sure about this, boss? You're putting holes in continents right now. Maybe not the best time to go off half-cocked."
Justin waved her off, his expression set in stone. "We're going. Now."
Domino sighed, shaking her head, but she stepped through the portal. "Eileen's gonna be so pissed at me," She muttered under her breath as she vanished through the swirling light.
Justin followed them, stepping through the portal into a new world - the Savage Land.
It appeared Sinister had never actually been in Egypt. He'd been piloting bodies… But he couldn't hide from Heimdall. And Justin would have him now!
The sight that greeted them was one of raw, untamed beauty. The Savage Land stretched out before them, a prehistoric paradise locked away from the modern world. Towering, ancient trees loomed overhead, their thick canopies casting deep shadows across the jungle floor. The air was thick with humidity, the scent of damp earth and rich vegetation filling their lungs.
Massive ferns and lush, green vines twisted around the trunks of the trees, and the sounds of life echoed all around them - the calls of strange, ancient creatures, the rustling of leaves as something enormous moved in the underbrush. In the distance, a towering waterfall cascaded down the side of a rocky cliff, its roar blending with the natural symphony of the jungle. Far off in the distance, the silhouettes of dinosaurs could be seen moving through the dense foliage, their massive forms a reminder of the land's primal nature.
It was a land untouched by time, wild and fierce, a place where only the strongest survived. And somewhere within its depths, Sinister waited.
Justin eyed the giant tower before them that rose up through the foliage, well, let's start right there…
Twenty minutes later,
Hela tore through the ranks of the tower's defenders with gleeful abandon, moving with lethal precision. The creatures that stood in her path, from towering dinosaurs draped in crude armor working as war beasts, to pterodactyl-like men that attacked as warriors, they were all no match for her. Each strike of her conjured weapons brought them down with a sudden, brutal efficiency. Her green ethereal blades shimmered in the bright sun, carving through their ranks and leaving the battlefield littered with fallen warriors and beasts.
She sidestepped a charging dinosaur, allowing its momentum to carry it past her before sending a necro sword the size of an SUV toward it. The creature collapsed, unmoving, as Hela barely broke stride after skewering the beast. Above, winged creatures dived, their talons outstretched, but she sent them crashing to the ground with a flick of her wrist, leaving their wings shattered and unable to carry them aloft again.
At this point, the pterodactyl men had all broken before her, running away from the Goddess of Death as she administered her namesake. Only beasts remained, the towers defenses broken in the face of Hela's gleeful advance.
Domino, perched on the periphery of the battlefield, took careful shots, her bullets finding their mark with expert precision as she sniped down the fliers. She picked off any who thought they might escape Hela's wrath, though few managed to get that far. Each shot from Domino's gun was clean, a single bullet enough to end her targets without unnecessary effort.
As they reached the base of the tower, Justin looked up at the towering structure. The mix of ancient stonework and modern metal work stretched high into the sky, weathered yet still formidable. Its surface was carved with intricate designs and symbols, not a language he knew.
Probably whatever counted for a language amongst the natives. He looked down at a dead pterodactyl man with distaste. The Savage Land was a proper name, he'd have to make sure none of them entered the proper world - there were limits to his allowances for what constituted humanity.
At least the Dinosaurs were interesting. Perhaps he could build a park on some island somewhere…
Justin contemplated the tower. And the absolute annoyance it would be to fight room to room to get through it all, while Sinister plotted his escape.
"He'll survive a fall," Justin said coldly, his eyes narrowing. Without waiting for further comment, he summoned the Power Stone again, and as the stone materialized in his hand, his body began to glow with a pulsing, radiant energy. The power coursed through him, filling him with a sense of control and raw potential.
Hela giggled, her eyes glinting with excitement. "Oooh, you're going to set your domains if you use it now," She teased, her voice laced with anticipation. "That amount of power... It's inevitable." She eyed the stone hungrily.
Domino's face grew more serious as she glanced between Justin and the tower. "You sure about this, boss?" She asked, her tone cautious. "I know you want him, want to punish him, but is this the choice you'd make normally? To do this... Here, like this, right now?"
Justin's glowing eyes turned toward her, his expression calm but resolute. "For too long, I was passive," He said. "I avoided risks, took the careful path, trying to keep everyone appeased just enough to follow along. But it's time I stopped holding back. It's time I took what I want."
How could he rule, if he did not grab power with his own two hands?
Domino sighed softly but nodded. "As long as you're sure, boss." A small smirk tugged at her lips. "Just so you know, I'm not about to worship you."
Justin grinned at that. "I know."
With a flick of his wrist, Justin unleashed the power of the stone. He swiped his hand through the air, and the energy erupted outward. The bottom third of the tower disintegrated in a flash, the stone and earth in its path obliterated, leaving a massive crater that extended for miles.
Almost cutting the Savage Lands in half.
And that was with Justin specifically trying to use the smallest amount of power.
The tower began to fall, falling sideways as the foundation ceased to exist. Then, with a mighty crash, the ancient structure collapsed into the ground and sent clouds of dust and debris billowing into the air. Hela laughed with unbridled glee, knocking away any debris that came too close, thoroughly enjoying the show.
Justin portaled the Power Stone away, his glowing body still shining like a star. He dropped to one knee, feeling the weight of the power that surged through him. All around the Savage Land, its inhabitants stopped, their primal instincts alerting them to the shift in power. A new god had been born, and they could feel it rippling through the air, vibrating in their very bones.
Hela approached him, her steps slow and deliberate, as if savoring the moment. She sniffed the air around Justin, grinning. "Ah," She moaned softly, "That new god smell." Her eyes sparkled with dark humor. "Let's see... God of Power and Might, delicious. Humanity and civilization… How boring." She smirked, teasing him. "God of Progress and innovation, makes sense I suppose. Domination… Nice. And sex and Lust... Well... Isn't that interesting." Then she stopped, a brief look of shock on her face, before she composed herself.
Domino burst out laughing, shaking her head. "Of course." She rolled her eyes, "Sunil owes me soo much money now, he should have known not to bet against me."
Justin rose to his feet, his newfound strength settling into him like an extension of his being. He felt different, stronger, more connected to the world and its inhabitants. He grinned at Domino. "So, not much has changed then," He said. "I was already a sex god."
"Pfft, you wish," Domino retorted with a grin.
Hela studied him for a moment longer, her eyes narrowing slightly in thought. "No war or conqueror domain," She murmured. "A pity. But not half bad, for a pretender." She smirked haughtily, "At least it's not as pathetic as being a God of Thunder or Mischief."
"Shots fired," He said amused at what Loki would think, not only about his very minor domain, but about Justin somehow getting such strong ones - due to billions of prayers. He gave Hela a look, "What are you holding back though…?"
Hela pouted, "Must you notice everything." She complained, whacking him with a necrosword, Justin didn't even feel it. "Many Gods have a dozen lesser domains, not unlike you, they're usually tied to a higher domain. Like Death…" She sighed dramatically, "Sex and Lust, Progress and Innovation, Humanity and Civilization, even Power and Might… You're a God of Life…"
Justin blinked at that, it seemed he had avoided the healing domain he was loath to accept, yet still qualified as a God of Life. In some ways he supposed it made sense, he was all about progress and uplifting humanity. Hopefully it wouldn't mean he couldn't kill, now…
"Domination doesn't really fit the mold." He murmured in thought.
Hela smirked, "I agree, you're not a usual boring God of Life, perhaps you don't operate quite as such." She got a coy look on her face, "Life and… Death, an interesting pairing, don't you think?"
Justin ignored her as he turned back toward the remnants of the tower. He could sense the presence of those within - those who were not fully human. His new powers gave him an awareness of all things human, and within the wreckage, there was one presence that stood out, a human signature twisted and altered but unmistakable. Sinister.
With a mere gesture, Justin tore a portal open, the raw power of his new godhood allowing him to bend space without the need for the motion of his sling ring. On the other side of the portal, he found Sinister, buried under what was left of his tower, his once meticulous appearance now in ruins.
Justin stepped through the portal, his divine energy crackling around him, and looked down at Sinister with cold, calculating eyes.
"Hello there," Justin said, his voice calm and filled with a quiet menace.
Soon after, Hammerhaven.
Justin entered the interrogation room, flanked by Hela and Domino. The air was filled with a sort of pressure, an oppressive weight that seemed to press down on everything within the room. In the center, Nathaniel Essex - Sinister - hung suspended against the far wall, his arms and legs spread wide, held in place by Justin's sheer will. The domination aspect of his newly minted godhood in use, the power shimmered faintly around the villain, keeping him utterly immobilized. Sinister's eyes darted around in fear, his mouth bound tightly by an unseen force, preventing him from making a sound.
"Domino," Justin said, his voice flat and cold, "Get Helen."
Domino nodded, casting a quick, sideways glance at Hela as she pointed two fingers at her own eyes and then back at Hela, a silent warning for the goddess to behave while she was gone. Hela merely raised an amused brow, watching Domino leave before turning her attention back to Sinister. She idly twirled one of her necroswords between her fingers, studying him with casual interest.
"You've managed to inspire great loyalty in your servants," She mused aloud, poking Sinister lightly with the tip of her blade, slowly sinking the tip in, just enough to make a point. "It's almost… Admirable."
Justin didn't answer immediately, his eyes never leaving Sinister's quivering form. The tension in the room built like a slowly rising tide, and his silence spoke volumes. Only after a moment did he give a slight, almost imperceptible nod in response to Hela's comment. His focus was not on the Goddess of Death at the moment.
Hela, undeterred, continued to observe him with a calculating gaze. She cocked her head slightly, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. "You wield impressive power now," She said, her voice almost a purr. "While not on par with a Goddess of Death, of course… Your divinity has granted you the ability to do anything you desire." Her tone was probing, testing the boundaries of his patience.
Without looking at her, Justin responded, his voice cold and biting. "You're not a very patient woman, are you?"
Hela's laugh was dark and lilting, filling the room with a sound both haunting and beautiful. "I am very patient, Justin. I've spent a millennia waiting, plotting. Patience is one of my finest qualities."
Justin scoffed, finally glancing at her with a sharp glare. "Yet you think my newly elevated status means I'll be fooled into granting your wishes?"
Hela's lips curled into a sly smile, her eyes gleaming with something dangerous. "Your wishes as well, you just don't realize it yet."
Justin shook his head, his attention shifting back to Sinister. He flexed his power slightly, and a crack echoed in the room as Sinister's legs were crushed beneath an invisible force. Sinister's face twisted in pain, but the legs immediately began to heal themselves, knitting together with astonishing speed - some experiment of his own design, no doubt.
He would have recognized it if it was Extremis.
"You're wrong, Hela," Justin said, his voice low and deliberate. "I know exactly what I want."
Before Hela could respond, the door swung open, and Domino returned, this time with Helen Cho in tow. Helen immediately dropped to her knees in front of Justin, bowing her head with reverence.
"Praise be to Hammer," She murmured, her voice trembling with devotion.
Justin waved her off, his expression indifferent. "None of that. Get to your feet. I want the interrogation serum. We're going to bring all the pain we can to maximum levels."
Helen stood quickly, her movements shaky but eager as she made her way to the table where a collection of tools and vials were neatly arranged. Her eyes flicked back to Justin every few moments, as if awaiting further instruction or approval.
Justin leaned in close to Sinister's face, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "You might think I'm going to ask you questions, that I'll offer you a chance to make yourself useful, maybe even bargain for something." His presence intensified, the weight of his divine power pressing down on Sinister until it felt like the air itself was squeezing him. "But you're mistaken. I'm not here for information. I just want you to hurt."
Sinister's eyes widened, panic flickering behind them as he tried to struggle against the invisible bonds, but it was futile. He could do nothing but stare into the cold, merciless gaze of Justin Hammer, a newborn God.
And in no way was he the God of Mercy.
Helen approached with a syringe in one hand and a scalpel in the other, her expression one of barely contained excitement. As she moved closer, she glanced over at Hela, clearly curious about the Goddess of Death standing so casually nearby. Her eyes darted between Hela and Justin before she hesitated and asked Hela, "Would any children of his be demigods?" Her voice was soft, almost shy, but filled with a deep seated curiosity.
Justin sighed audibly, his frustration barely concealed as Domino covered her mouth, struggling not to laugh.
Hela's amusement grew, a smirk playing on her lips as she regarded Helen with an arched brow. "Most likely," She said in a smooth, almost teasing tone. "I've never dealt with this kind of raised divinity in person, but I suppose you'd have to… Yest it to be sure." There was a knowing glint in her eyes as she looked back at Justin.
Justin pointed at Helen, his tone sharp with authority. "Do not test it," He ordered, his words layered with the weight of his domination aspect. The force of it pushing down, making it harder to resist his words.
Helen shuddered, clearly feeling the power of his command wash over her. "Yes, sir," She replied quickly, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked away, focusing instead on preparing the serum.
Hela chuckled under her breath, amused by the dynamic in the room. She paced slowly, occasionally glancing at Sinister with mild interest. "You know," She said idly, "For all the power in this room, it's interesting to me that you choose to indulge in such… Small things." Her eyes flicked to Justin, a playful challenge in her gaze. "Crushing bones, inflicting pain - it's so... Mortal. Don't you think you could be doing more?"
Justin shot her a dark look. "I'm doing exactly what I want to do, Hela. This is personal." His eyes turned back to Sinister, narrowing as his hand tightened into a fist, the sound of bones crunching faintly filling the room again.
Sinister tried to scream, but his mouth remained bound, the sound of his agony locked inside his throat. His body writhed as much as the invisible restraints would allow, but there was no escape, no respite from the torment.
Helen stepped forward, syringe in hand, her movements precise as she prepared to administer the serum. She glanced up at Justin, waiting for his nod before she moved closer to Sinister, carefully injecting the serum into his neck.
"You'll feel everything now," Helen murmured to Sinister, her voice almost clinical, detached. Watching in curiosity."No matter how fast you heal, the pain will remain."
Justin watched as well, his expression cold and unyielding as Sinister's body tensed, his eyes wide with the realization of what was happening. There was no escape from this. No bargaining. No reasoning.
And Justin reveled in it.
As Sinister convulsed, Justin stepped back, his posture relaxed but his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He turned to Hela, who had been watching the entire ordeal with a mixture of amusement and intrigue.
"I could do a lot more," Justin said, his voice calm, almost conversational now. "But sometimes… This is what's needed, something… Simple."
Hela chuckled softly, twirling her necrosword in her fingers once more. "Oh, I do understand. Pain has its place, after all." She smiled darkly, her eyes glittering with approval. "But do try not to lose yourself in it too much, Justin. After all, a god should aspire to something... Grander.. Personal pain is nothing compared to the pain of a nation, a planet."
Justin didn't respond, but his expression remained as cold and resolute as ever. He knew exactly what he was doing. And for now, Sinister's suffering was just what the doctor ordered.
He couldn't let loose on Earth, not yet. Not without declaring war.
He'd pick his enemies apart, just like Sinister. Wring all the information out of them, after they'd suffered to the point of begging to share it.
Then…
God-Emperor didn't sound too bad, now did it?
A day later, Washington D.C.
The Oval Office was a hive of tension. President Ellis sat at his desk, hands clenched into tight fists as he surveyed the room. Cabinet secretaries, generals, and Alexander Pierce, the head of SHIELD, stood or sat around him, all locked in a heated argument. The atmosphere was thick with frustration, anger, and simmering fear.
"Hammer's going too far," One of the generals blustered, his face flushed with indignation. "This isn't how things should work! He's acting like he's in charge of the country!"
Ellis leaned back in his chair, bitterness etched into every line of his face. "And what exactly do you suggest we do about it?" He asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Taken a look at Europe lately, General?" His eyes gleamed with a dark sort of humor. "Did you see what happened to their leaders when they tried to stand up to him? They're all running for cover while Hammer picks them off one by one." He made a gesture of disgust, "Hell, he isn't even doing it himself, the people are doing it for him!"
The general swallowed, clearly unsettled, but before he could respond, Pierce stepped forward, his expression cool and measured.
"Antagonism serves no one," Pierce said, his voice calm, though there was a sharp edge to it. "Hammer has been… Good to this country, for the most part." He reminded them, his eyes sweeping across the room.
That set off a flurry of protests from several cabinet secretaries. They spoke over one another, voices rising in indignation as they laid out their grievances against Justin Hammer. He'd undermined the government, cut them out of deals, and left Washington looking like an afterthought. Big business, the media, the public - all eyes were on Hammer Industries now, not the White House.
"He's destabilized everything!" One cabinet secretary shouted. "The government's barely holding on to its authority! The man's practically built a state within a state!"
"The economy is thrumming, sure," Another one said, "But we're losing control! The people aren't looking to us for answers anymore. They're looking to him!"
Ellis slammed his hands down on the desk, silencing the room in an instant. He glared at his cabinet, frustration and weariness etched into his features. His presidency had been a trial of constant crisis, and this - dealing with Hammer - was proving to be the most exasperating of all.
"Enough!" He barked. They all fell silent. Ellis turned his gaze to Pierce, narrowing his eyes. "Tell me SHIELD has a way to stop him from going too far. I'd rather not be deposed the way the Slovakian prime minister was." The sarcasm in his voice barely masked the underlying fear. Hammer's power was growing, and Ellis could feel the ground beneath his feet slipping away.
Pierce, ever the calm voice amongst braying donkeys, remained composed, his expression betraying nothing. "Of course, we do, Mr. President. SHIELD has contingencies for every situation. You can always count on SHIELD." His words dripped with confidence, but there was a quiet intensity in his gaze, as if daring anyone to question SHIELD's capabilities.
Ellis, though, wasn't entirely convinced. He looked at Pierce with skepticism, his lips pressing into a tight line. Still, for the moment, he chose not to push further. Pierce was one of the few people he had left to rely on, and alienating him now would be disastrous.
The Vice President, sitting quietly through most of the exchange, finally spoke up, his tone mild but laced with sarcasm. "Hammer made himself the sole arbiter of the deal with Asgard. Surely, we aren't just letting that stand, are we?"
Pierce grimaced, glancing at Ellis for permission to address the issue. Ellis waved his hand impatiently, urging him to continue.
"My Vice President," Pierce began, his voice taking on a measured tone, "I understand, and I agree, the lack of respect inherent in the way he bulldozed us all at the summit was… infuriating. But in the end, America - and SHIELD - will be the biggest recipients of this windfall."
The Vice President raised an eyebrow. "You mean outside of Hammer Industries, of course."
Pierce's lips tightened, and he forced himself to nod. "Yes, outside of Hammer Industries. But what choice did we have? Did you want to demand Asgard break their word and deal with us instead?"
Ellis rubbed his temples, his frustration mounting. "This is all pointless. There's no use crying over spilled milk," He muttered, his voice low and bitter. "We lost that battle. Now give me strategies going forward. How can we turn this ship around?"
Silence blanketed the Oval Office as the room's occupants exchanged uncertain glances. For all their bravado, no one had a clear answer.
The tension was broken when the door to the Oval Office swung open. A military aide rushed in, his face pale, a dispatch clutched tightly in his hand. He quickly crossed the room and handed the paper to the Secretary of Defense. As the secretary read the message, his face blanched visibly, all the color draining from his skin.
Ellis's heart sank at the sight. He'd come to recognize that look - the look of someone about to deliver yet another catastrophe. His eyes closed for a moment as if bracing himself. "What's wrong now?" He demanded, his voice a mix of exhaustion and irritation.
They were still dealing with part of the US military going rogue for God's sake! The press and Congress both were cutting him to ribbons! What could possibly have happened now?
The Secretary of Defense swallowed hard before speaking, his voice solemn and heavy. "China has invaded Taiwan."
Of course they have… Ellis thought, wondering briefly if being President was worth it anymore.
For a moment, the Oval Office was utterly silent. The words hung in the air like a bomb waiting to go off.
Then, all at once, chaos erupted. Cabinet secretaries shouted over one another, generals barked orders and questions, and the once-organized room devolved into utter pandemonium.
Ellis just looked at Pierce, and the abject shock on his face did not fill him with confidence.
Has SHIELD even gotten anything right in the past two years? He wondered, even as he prepared himself for the worst.
Worst of all, his first thought?
Call Justin Hammer.
He grimaced.
We've lost already.
Hammerhaven,
Justin sat in the war room of his Hammerhaven headquarters, surrounded by the quiet hum of technology and the glowing screens that covered every inch of the walls. Before him sat most of his inner circle - Yelena, Domino, Phantazia, and Sunil. They each bore the weight of the last twenty four hours in their expressions, a mix of exhaustion and calculated determination. It had been a brutal day.
Nail, his AI, floated silently in the background, projecting a detailed hologram of the damage report. The final death toll stood at over 1,200. His factories, though equipped with world-class security, had been no match for a coordinated strike from power-armored soldiers. Entire facilities reduced to rubble, civilians caught in the crossfire, their bodies crushed beneath debris. The eerie glow of the report's statistics seemed to make the air heavier.
Justin leaned back in his chair, feeling the constant hum of whispers in the back of his mind - a side effect of his recent ascent to divinity. Prayers. He could hear them all, faint and persistent, from people across the globe. An aspect of his domain of Humanity, he was fairly certain.
Certainly Hela and Thor and those like it did not get prayers like this.
And those he knew personally? They were deafening by comparison. Helen Cho, in particular, was like a constant murmur in his ear, always offering praise or praying for his approval. He could ignore it if he focused hard enough, but it was still there, like a buzzing fly he couldn't swat away.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts, focusing on the present. "So… It was the Mandarin?" He asked, his tone cold, cutting through the room like a blade.
Sunil was the first to speak. "In all likelihood, yes. We don't have concrete proof, but based on Osborn's last known location and his movements, it points to the Mandarin being behind this."
Yelena leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table, her gaze sharp. "Of all your enemies, he's the one most likely to sow chaos like this. The timing, the precision, the scale - it fits his MO. With China now attacking Taiwan and creating an international crisis, it lines up too perfectly. He's trying to destabilize both you and the U.S."
Phantazia, catching Yelena's glance, took over seamlessly. "It's all designed to hit at the heart of your perceived invincibility, sir. You've built yourself as the one who can protect Earth, and now that narrative is being ripped apart. You're seen as tied to America, and now both you and America look weak if you don't act. But if you do act, especially in the wrong way, I'm certain that's exactly what the Mandarin wants."
Justin remained silent for a moment, his fingers steepled as he considered the implications. The Mandarin. A relic of an older era. A man who, while not necessarily a powerhouse compared to what Justin had become, was a master of manipulation, strategy, and chaos. The Mandarin had exposed Justin's greatest weakness - his vast reach. He was everywhere, but being everywhere meant being stretched too thin to protect everything.
The destruction of his factories, the loss of life - it wasn't just a blow to his company; it was a direct hit to his reputation. He had built himself up as the guardian of Earth, the man who could secure its future. And now, with these attacks, that very foundation was cracking. People would talk. The world would see the cracks in his armor, and they would doubt him. His enemies would grow bolder.
He could feel the rage bubbling beneath his cool exterior. The Mandarin was small in terms of personal power - at least, in comparison to Justin's newfound divinity - but that didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. The fact that Nail couldn't even find him or his web of assassins and terrorists, only added to the problem. The man was a ghost, striking from the shadows, picking his targets with surgical precision.
"He's exposed a weakness," Justin said, finally breaking the silence. "I can't protect everything. Not if I'm spread this thin." It was reality, Hammer industries were global, they were everywhere.
Yelena and the others exchanged glances, knowing full well that Justin's next decision would shape the course of their future. War with China? Retaliation against a phantom enemy? Neither were ideal outcomes, but something had to be done.
"If I allow him to keep taking pot shots at me," Justin continued, his voice low and dark, "It'll destroy my credibility. The world's already watching. I'm supposed to be the one who can protect Earth. If I can't even protect my own people…"
His words trailed off, leaving an unspoken question hanging in the air. How far would he go to preserve his empire?
Justin leaned back, closing his eyes briefly as he let the weight of the decision settle on his shoulders. He opened them again, and when he spoke, there was a finality to his words.
"If he wants war, let him have it."
His inner circle straightened, their expressions sharpening as they absorbed the gravity of his statement.
"We're in the endgame now," Justin said, his voice cold and resolved. "Let chaos reign. When the dust settles, I'll come out on top."
The room fell into a deep, tense silence. They knew what was coming.
War.
Author's note:
The Mandarin hasn't even made any moves with his own forces yet, he's creating chaos, muddling the waters.
Chaos starts,
And we have a God of Life in the building.
Hopefully most of his domains make sense, they won't control him, but they will have an impact on his personality, not that much will be different as he was already like that.
Finally he'll be able to compete with the likes of Stark… A Domain of Progress and Innovation will allow him a lot.
Hopefully it all seems like it's working out, and of course, he'll be even more anti-xeno with a domain of Humanity.
Savage Lands are in for a rough time.
Cheers
JollyHippopotamus
Here's the new chappie, to no one's surprise, won again on patron.
Things are beginning to warm up, war is on the horizon, fun stuff.
And Hela is back, with a very quick cameo from a marvel villain as well.
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc.
Hope you enjoy.
Hammerhaven, two hours after the attack began,
Justin stood at the edge of the grand main square in Hammerhaven, his eyes trained on the Asgardians gathered before him. Around him, some of the Earth's most powerful leaders or their representatives were arrayed like pieces on a chessboard, a parade of forced smiles and stiff posture. President Ellis stood to his left, flanked by Secret Service agents, while Alexander Pierce hovered nearby, his usual air of cool arrogance only slightly marred by the tension in his eyes. Both men wore carefully neutral expressions, but Justin could feel the simmering resentment beneath the surface.
Mixed with the feeling of frustration, as they were all stuck here, while the US military performed terrorist actions on home soil.
They all knew what was happening while they wasted time on this.
Justin's heart pounded with frustration, though his outward demeanor remained calm. His implant buzzed every few minutes with updates from Nail, the reports detailing the destruction being wrought across the United States by the rogue power armors - the armors acting like drones, turning on his factories, offices, and clinics. The attacks weren't happening in Hammerhaven, of course. That would have made them easy to repel. Instead, they were targeting his operations all over the country, and not every facility had the defenses in place to fend off a fully armed, armored assault.
The most recent update had been particularly grim. Nail had whispered in his ear: Four factories gone. Hundreds dead. And the carnage was still unfolding.
Ellis and Pierce should have been dealing with the same chaos, considering these attacks were happening on U.S. soil. But instead, they were standing there, forced to watch Thor and his Einherjar prepare to leave, bound by the unspoken agreement between them that Earth couldn't look weak in front of Asgard. The entire square was lined with SHIELD agents, Secret Service personnel, and assorted guards from various world leaders, their faces pale and strained. Everyone knew what was going on, yet no one could make a move until the damn aliens were gone.
Thor, for his part, appeared utterly oblivious to the rising tension in the air. Standing atop the grand marble steps at the heart of Hammerhaven's main square, he was in the middle of a long-winded speech. His booming voice echoed through the streets, as if unaware that the world leaders arrayed before him were barely listening. His words were full of talk about friendship and brotherhood between Midgard and Asgard, about how, should any troubles arise, his hammer would be ready to answer the call.
Justin kept his polite smile in place, but inside, he wanted to scream. Just leave already, he thought, clenching his jaw. All he could do was stand there, his hands neatly folded in front of him, waiting for the Asgardians to finally go.
Even when they weren't even doing anything, they managed to make his life more annoying.
Nail's voice came through his implant again, soft and precise. "Sir, casualties are now estimated at over a thousand. The rogue power armors are continuing to hit our key facilities, though Storm has successfully protected the New York offices."
Justin's teeth ground together as he forced a nod, as if agreeing with something Thor had said. His eyes flicked briefly to Ellis, whose face was now twitching in barely contained frustration. The U.S. President was a smart man.- he had to be boiling inside, knowing his country was under siege by his own forces, yet bound by decorum to stand here, smiling at Thor's speech. Pierce looked equally strained, his eyes flicking over to Justin every so often, as if seeking an explanation or an outlet for his frustration.
If this was a normal diplomatic party, they could have made their excuses, but this was a different planet. Alien diplomats, no one wanted to be the ones left out or making a bad impression on their new 'allies'.
Thor's speech finally began to wind down, his face glowing with the pride of a man who thought he had just accomplished something great. With one final, grand gesture, he raised Mjolnir high into the air, calling out, "Midgard and Asgard will now be allies for eternity!"
He expected cheers obviously. Instead, the crowd - made up mostly of politicians, diplomats and military brass - responded with a half-hearted smattering of applause. Their claps were more perfunctory than anything, a polite gesture rather than true enthusiasm. No one was in the mood for celebration when things were this uncertain.
Even people generally disliking the US were walking on tiptoes, if the US military was going rogue, that was an issue that got the entire world panicking, who knew who could be next?
Thor's smile faltered for a moment, clearly confused by the lukewarm response. Freyja, ever perceptive, stepped forward and laid a gentle hand on her son's arm, guiding him back. Her gaze turned toward Justin, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she approached.
"I thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Hammer," Freyja said in a tone that was both regal and warm, her voice carrying easily over the muted buzz of the square. "Though I must say, it wasn't necessary for you to maintain such a front during the battle you're facing right now. I wouldn't have taken offense."
Justin stiffened slightly, though he kept his face a perfect mask of calm. Of course, she knew. Why wouldn't she? The queen mother of Asgard wasn't blind to what was happening on Earth, even as her people prepared to depart. Fucking Magic no doubt, or Heimdall and his cheating peepers… But there was no way in hell he was about to discuss Earth's, or Hammer industries internal security matters with an alien, no matter how well-meaning she appeared.
"I'm afraid this is as much for the people behind me as it is for yourself, my lady," Justin replied smoothly, his tone impeccably polite. He inclined his head in acknowledgment, giving away nothing else.
Freyja's smile widened, the amusement in her eyes growing. "I see. A show for appearances, then." She took a step closer, extending her hand toward him for a handshake. "This is Midgarda custom, no?" Her tone was playful, but there was a glint in her eye that made Justin wary.
He took her hand, the warmth of her grip surprising. As they shook, he felt something slip into his palm - a small, thin piece of parchment, neatly folded. Freyja gave him a knowing look, her eyes dancing with mirth.
"Another Midgard custom," She said with a wink, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "For subterfuge. I saw it in one of your moving pictures." She sounded genuinely delighted by the concept. "The location of your target, as provided by Heimdall."
Justin blinked, glancing down at the parchment now nestled in his hand. He hadn't expected that. His pulse quickened, the implications of what she had just handed him sinking in. Sinister.
He quickly schooled his features back into calm neutrality and bowed his head slightly. "I thank you, my lady," He murmured, his voice carefully measured. His mind, however, was racing. I have you now, Sinister.
Freyja gave him one last, appraising look, her smile softening into something almost cryptic. "Soon, I would think," She said, her voice carrying a note of quiet mystery that made Justin raise an eyebrow. "Yes, any day now." She added, humming melodically.
Before he could respond, she turned and rejoined the throng of Asgardians, her graceful steps taking her back toward Thor's side. The God of Thunder raised his hammer once more, calling out for Heimdall in his booming voice. A heartbeat later, the sky above Hammerhaven lit up with the swirling colors of the Bifrost. The air vibrated with the hum of ancient magic, and within moments, the Asgardians were gone - vanished in a brilliant flash of light.
The moment the light faded, Justin's polite facade cracked, his expression hardening as he turned his gaze toward the remaining humans. President Ellis was already moving, his security detail quickly surrounding him as they began escorting him away from the square - no doubt heading for a secure bunker, no way they were risking using Air Force One right now. Ellis shot Justin a withering look as he passed, clearly displeased with the events of the summit.
"Good riddance," Justin muttered under his breath, already thinking ahead to what needed to be done. Ellis had been useful, but Justin was getting to a point where who was the head of state of any given nation didn't matter.
They'd all have no choice but to fall in line.
Europe had been the test bed.
Alexander Pierce did not leave so easily however, Justin noted with distaste. As Ellis disappeared into the crowd, Pierce approached, his own contingent of SHIELD agents ensuring no one else came near them. His expression was calm, almost jovial, but his eyes were sharp and cold.
"Justin," Pierce said, his tone light, though there was an unmistakable edge to it. "You didn't feel the need to inform me that you'd already made a deal with Asgard?"
Does a bear inform the fish it's about to be a meal? He thought with a smidgeon of amusement. If Ellis was getting superfluous soon, Pierce was getting uppity, Nail was watching them closely, and HYDRA had been making waves lately…
Including dealing with the Hellfire Club, and the Mandarin on the sly.
It made Justin think they'd outlived their usefulness.
Justin slipped the parchment Freyja had given him into his pocket with a smooth, practiced motion. He turned to face Pierce, one hand in his pocket, the other casually hanging at his side. "Pierce, we're allies of a sort, but that doesn't make you my nursemaid. I don't need to tell you everything." He drawled, an amused quirk to his lips.
Pierce's smile tightened, his eyes narrowing. "Not much of an alliance, then."
"Maybe not," Justin agreed, shrugging slightly. "Do you wish to end it?"
The words hung in the air like a challenge, and Justin watched with some satisfaction as Pierce's face momentarily froze, his eyes narrowing as if he were considering his options. But in the end, Pierce's expression twisted into a grimace, as though he'd swallowed something bitter.
"No," Pierce said finally, though his tone was clipped. "I am just… Expressing my displeasure at being kept out of the loop."
Justin let out a low, humorless chuckle. "Speaking of being out of the loop, why did SHIELD fail to check for backdoors in the goblin power armors? Especially after the Green Goblin became a thing…"
Too bad he'd already taken Ross, he'd have really enjoyed watching the man realize his warnings way back when - had come to fruition.
But he couldn't taunt the dead. And Ross was unfortunately no longer with them.
So sad.
Anyway…
"It seems a little bit of an oversight, don't you think?" Justin added, just to twist the dagger a little.
Pierce's face tightened further, his lips pressing into a thin line. "We did check."
Justin raised an eyebrow, his voice dry. "Should I compliment your utter incompetence, then?"
Pierce's jaw clenched, the faintest twitch of anger flickering across his face. Justin felt a surge of satisfaction in treating Pierce like nothing more than a buzzing irritant - an obstacle to be swatted away rather than someone he needed to fear.
Pierce remained rigid, his face an impassive mask despite the palpable frustration radiating from him. "I suspect infiltration and subversion of the reports," He said, his voice tight with barely contained anger.
SHIELD or HYDRA same difference in competency, Justin thought derisively. He smiled, sharp and mocking. "So, incompetence, then. Good to know." He checked his wristwatch nonchalantly, as if dismissing the conversation entirely. "Oh look, time flies. I need to deal with this attack, seeing as SHIELD isn't doing much to help." His tone dripped with contempt as he casually turned on his heel, walking away from Pierce without a backward glance.
"Justin…" Pierce growled, his voice low with warning.
But Justin didn't stop, didn't acknowledge him further. He was done with Pierce, done playing games with the so-called ally who seemed more like a liability by the day. Instead, he strode toward his offices, Domino and a contingent of his personal security team falling into line beside him like clockwork.
The tension in the air was thick as they walked, Justin's mind raced, sorting through the reports Nail had fed him over the past hour. The damage was already catastrophic for his reputation, and the losses were stacking higher with each passing minute.
Storm, Yelena, and Phantazia were already on the ground, leading the H.A.M.M.E.R. team to pacify the rogue armors. But even with their expertise, there were simply too many targets, and the damage was spiraling out of control.
As soon as they entered the towering structure of Hammer Industries' headquarters, Justin's calm mask slipped, his expression darkening as the automatic doors sealed shut behind them. The tension that had coiled in his chest during Thor's agonizingly long farewell speech now surged to the surface.
"Nail, any new information?" He asked sharply, his voice carrying through the halls as they made their way toward his private office.
Nail's voice, soft and composed, responded instantly in his ear. "Sir, the tally now includes five factories that are completely destroyed, two others in major disrepair, and two office buildings gone. Additionally, seven Panacea clinics have been wiped out."
Justin's teeth clenched as he absorbed the news, his eyes narrowing in frustration. "Casualties?" He asked, though he already knew the answer wasn't going to be good.
His average employees did not have Extremis, they just had access to Panacea at differing levels depending on their position. His security teams all had the treatments, but lacked flight capabilities to truly contest the Goblin armors before they got in range and began firing missiles and bombs.
"The death toll is still being calculated, but it has reached over one thousand civilians. Many of your employees were caught in the initial attacks," Nail added, her voice tinged with something close to regret, though the AI remained mostly clinical in her delivery.
Justin growled deep in his throat, a vicious sound that made Domino glance at him out of the corner of her eye. The attack wasn't just on his factories and clinics; it was an attack on his reputation. Whoever had orchestrated this knew exactly how to strike, where to hit him where it hurt.
They're trying to weaken me, to undermine my power, he thought bitterly. Murdering my people…
Striking just as he'd made a big deal about protecting humanity… Making him out to be a liar…
"How many of the armors are left operational?" He demanded, his fists clenched tightly as he resisted the urge to take out his anger on the nearest piece of furniture. He'd deployed the Iron Legion, but they'd been too far away to stop most of the attacks.
Not to say they'd been ineffectual once they got there, just… Too little too late, and now he'd have to deal with governments freaking out that he had a drone army, during a crisis where a drone army was attacking.
Perhaps he should have kept the Legion back…
"Less than fifty remain," Nail confirmed. "Storm and the others are actively hunting them down. New York's operations are intact - Storm managed to protect it entirely without any damage, somewhat assisted by local heroes stepping in immediately."
Domino let out a low whistle. "New girl's got game," She murmured, her tone more impressed than surprised.
Justin gritted his teeth, his eyes glowing faintly with barely contained fury. "Not now, Domino," He snapped. His mind was already calculating his next move, weighing the possibilities. This attack had come at the worst possible time - just as he was showing the world that he was the only one who could protect them, this happened.
He fished into his pocket, pulling out the small piece of parchment Freyja had slipped him during their handshake. It was a curious move on her part, she was definitely Loki's mother, but Justin wasn't complaining. The contents of the parchment - Sinister's location - could be the key to get something out of this entire mess.
"Nail," He said, his voice tight with focus, "I want every satellite available around this location, in case he escapes again." He unfolded the parchment, scanning the coordinates written in Freyja's neat hand. "I'm going for Sinister. Right now."
Domino's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of concern passing over her usually unshakable expression. She coughed lightly, her voice a touch hesitant. "Uh, boss, are you sure about that? You're not letting your anger cloud your judgment, are you?"
Justin shot her an irritated look, his fists still balled at his sides. "Shut up, Domino. You're coming with me, and we'll be fine," He said curtly.
Domino sighed, shaking her head in exasperation. "Eileen is going to be so pissed at me," She muttered under her breath, her tone half-joking but tinged with real frustration. "I need a raise…"
"Actually we'll make one stop first…" Justin said, opening a portal.
"Oh, fantastic…" Domino said sarcastically, looking through the portal as they stepped through.
Malibu, California,
Tony Stark stepped through the front door of the Malibu mansion with his arms full of shopping bags, expertly kicking the door shut with his hip. The warm, salty ocean breeze filtered in through the large windows, filling the air with the scent of the sea as the house's ambient lighting flickered on in the hallway in response to his arrival.
"Honey, I'm home! And I bring gifts!" Tony called out with his usual bravado, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips as he sauntered down the hallway, arms weighed down with brightly colored bags.
Pepper appeared from the living room, a relieved smile on her face. Her gaze flicked to the collection of bags in Tony's arms, her brow lifting in curiosity before her expression settled into something more deadpan. "Someone's in a better mood," She remarked, her voice wry. "But, Tony, why are all the bags from Victoria's Secret?"
Tony's eyes widened in faux innocence, as if the question had truly stumped him. "Is that any way to greet a hardworking man who comes home with a little something, something for his girl?" He raised his eyebrows and put on his most exaggerated charming expression, holding the bags up like a trophy.
Pepper crossed her arms, biting back a smile, though the twitch at the corners of her lips gave her away. "Is it really a gift for me? Because it seems like you're the one who's going to enjoy it the most," She fired back, her eyes narrowing playfully.
Tony swept past her with a loud kiss on the cheek, heading toward the kitchen nook, his stride light and carefree. He dropped the bags unceremoniously on the counter and went straight for the espresso machine, giving it a light whack to coax it to life. "Isn't my enjoyment your enjoyment or something like that?" He quipped, glancing over his shoulder at her with a mischievous grin. "Like, in sickness and in health? For richer or poorer? You know, the usual?"
Pepper followed him into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as she folded her arms, pretending to be exasperated though her amusement was clear. "Not quite how that works, but I'm glad you're feeling better."
Tony hummed in agreement, tapping the side of the espresso machine again as it whirred to life. "It's weird, right?" He said, his voice quieter now, more contemplative. He turned to look at her fully, the weight of his thoughts momentarily flashing in his eyes. "I mean, I'm still upset. But… I've made my decision, I've chosen a way forward, and it's like this… Mountain has been lifted off my back."
Pepper's expression softened as she moved closer, slipping her arms around him from behind, resting her head lightly against his back. "I'm happy for you, Tony," Ehe said softly, her fingers trailing gently over his chest. "Are you going to share what exactly you've decided? Or do I have to guess?"
Tony smiled at the warmth of her touch, leaning into her embrace for a moment before turning around to face her, his arms wrapping around her waist. "Don't worry, it's nothing involving the Playboy Bunny of the Year. That's next month." He grinned as Pepper swatted at his shoulder, laughing as she tried to hide her own smile.
"Jarvis, what's he up to?" Pepper said, raising an eyebrow in Tony's direction, her tone mock-serious as if seeking out a secret Tony wouldn't tell her. "You're always with this lughead. Spill."
Tony snorted. "Like Jarvis would ever betray the bro code, right, Jarv?"
Jarvis's calm, British voice filled the room. "I'm afraid, sir, that the 'bro code' does not supersede Mrs Stark's' level of access. He met with Justin Hammer approximately two and a half hours ago, and took a portal back to California."
Pepper's eyes narrowed as she looked up at Tony, who winced slightly at the revelation.
"Uh, Pep… What're you doing?" Tony asked nervously as she grabbed his face in both hands, inspecting him as if searching for something.
"Just checking for signs of mind control," She said, her eyes narrowing further as her hands remained on either side of his head. "Why are you happier after seeing that monster?"
Tony grimaced, letting out a sigh. "Okay, look, I forgot you kinda hate the guy." His voice dropped, taking on a more apologetic tone.
"Sir," Jarvis interrupted dryly, "Should I remind you of the purchase you made earlier today, specifically to beg for forgiveness when Mrs Stark found out?"
Pepper's unimpressed gaze bored into Tony as he let out a more exaggerated sigh. "Jarvis!" Tony exclaimed. "Bro code!"
"My apologies, sir," Jarvis replied, unbothered, "But I am still following the standing protocol: when it comes to Justin Hammer, report everything to Mrs Stark."
Tony groaned. "Not on me!" He shook his head, wagging a finger, "I don't know who made you this snarky, buddy…"
Pepper remained silent, her arms crossed and her foot tapping impatiently. "Tony…"
Tony sighed, shoulders slumping. "Okay, okay. So, I might have signed Stark Industries on for a few deals with Hammer to develop… Space. A space fleet, asteroid mining. And, y'know, a few other minor things."
Pepper's expression didn't change, though she slowly nodded. "Financially, that's… Well, it'll be amazing. It'll make up for the losses we've taken in the electronics market, but Tony… Hammer? Really?"
Tony looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "I owe him one, Pep. And… Look, if you take a good, hard look at the world right now, do you see a better option? Just look at what he's done. What we could do if we worked together."
Pepper closed her eyes, rubbing her temples as if trying to stave off a growing headache. "Tony, he's destroying governments."
Tony winced again, clearly uncomfortable with her words. "Yeah… But Pep, tell me people have it worse right now. What have the governments really done to help? Every disaster we've seen, every threat… The government can't handle any of it." He brightened up momentarily, "And he's going to give me access to Pym particles, Pep, Pym particles!"
That alone made it worth it. He wasn't blind to Hammer's faults. He just… Saw that everyone else sucked just as bad, but Hammer was actually improving things. So it gave him only one real alternative.
Pepper sighed, her hand dropping as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "That's not a good enough reason to upend democracy, Tony. Just because the government is struggling doesn't mean someone like Hammer should have free rein."
Tony frowned, the conflict clear in his expression. He stepped forward, taking her hands gently in his. "Tell me to fight him, and I will." His voice was reluctant, but there was sincerity in it.
Pepper was silent for a long time, her eyes closing as she leaned into his chest, her thoughts swirling. Minutes passed in quiet contemplation as Tony held her, his heartbeat steady beneath her cheek.
Finally, she spoke, her voice soft. "I'll follow your lead."
Tony let out a sigh of relief, holding her tighter.
In his mind, he replayed the moment in Hammer's office. The moment Justin had handed him the remote. The moment that had changed everything.
Tony could've let Ross go. He could've reported Hammer for kidnapping the man, gone to the government and fought Hammer every step of the way.
Or…
He could press the button. Get revenge for Rhodey. Join Hammer, and in doing so, improve the lives of millions. Maybe billions.
As he stood there, holding Pepper close and breathing in her familiar scent, Tony knew he couldn't regret it.
Ross had died screaming.
And Tony…
He was okay with that.
New York City,
Jean Grey landed softly on the rooftop of a high-rise building in New York City, her feet barely making a sound as she touched down beside Storm, who was already perched on the edge. The wind tugged at their hair and clothing, carrying the distant hum of city life up from below. Storm sat with her legs dangling off the side of the building, gazing out over the sprawling urban landscape, her long white hair flowing freely in the wind. She patted the ledge next to her, inviting Jean to sit down.
"What's the news?" Jean asked quietly, not quite sure how to talk to Ororo now that they weren't on the same team anymore. It felt strange, distant. Their shared history stretched back so far, but now, things were different. The line between them felt palpable, like an unspoken boundary she didn't know what to do with.
Storm didn't seem fazed by the change, though. She gave a small nod toward the city, her voice calm, but a faint shadow of frustration darkened her expression. "No more threats spotted in the vicinity of New York. We're basically just waiting for the all-clear that all the armors have been taken down."
Jean glanced at her, sensing the underlying tension. "It sounds like it's been rough."
Storm's mouth quirked in a grim smile. "You could say that. It's… Unsettling, knowing the soldiers trapped inside those armors had no control. They were turned into drones, their voices…" Her voice trailed off, her frown deepening. "I tried to take them down without killing anyone, but… It's power armor. Some needed more force than others, and I'm not sure I always succeeded."
Spiderman had honestly been more successful than her at that. His webs were perfect for non lethal takedowns, even if he couldn't handle the amount of enemies Storm could.
They'd been lucky New York had so many local heroes, or the damage could have been horrible.
Jean sighed, wrapping her arms around her knees as she sat down beside Storm. Her posture was slumped, and her face mirrored the heaviness she felt in her heart. "It seems like there's just more violence every day," She muttered, her eyes focusing on a point far in the distance. "The mess in Europe, now this… When does it end?"
Storm glanced at Jean, her usual serene demeanor marred by a flicker of sadness. "It ends when someone wins," She murmured quietly. Her words carried a weight that Jean wasn't prepared for, but they rang with truth. It was a bitter reality, but Storm had long since accepted it.
Violence was inherently human, and wouldn't disappear, but war? War could be removed from the equation eventually. Even if the manner of the solution didn't fill Storm with joy.
"Is that why you joined Justin Hammer fully?" Jean asked, her voice soft, hesitant. She had wanted to ask this question since the beginning, but it felt heavy on her tongue, like an accusation she didn't want to make.
Storm's lips quirked upward slightly in a teasing smile. "Ah, is that the real reason you sought me out?" She asked, gently ruffling Jean's hair. "Not for my company, but to pump me for information?"
Jean pouted, a faint huff escaping her lips as she pulled away slightly. "Don't tease me, Ororo," She said, her voice a little petulant. "I just… I want to know what I'm supposed to do now. Everything feels like it's shifting, and I don't know where I fit anymore."
Storm hummed thoughtfully, leaning back slightly as she watched the clouds drift lazily across the sky. "I can't answer that for you, Jean," She said after a moment, her tone soft but firm. "Everyone has to make their own choice about where they stand in the coming days."
It was becoming clear. Even the regular citizens were seeing it.
You were either Pro-Hammer, or you weren't. There were no bystanders in this choice.
Jean's brow furrowed, her expression growing more frustrated. "Do we really have to draw lines like that?" She asked, her voice tinged with sadness. "Why can't we all just… Get along? Why does it always have to come down to picking sides?"
"It doesn't work like that," Storm replied gently, her eyes soft with compassion. She wished it were different, but they both knew better. "There are always sides. People will always choose their path, whether they want to or not."
"Yeah," Jean muttered, her head dropping slightly as the weight of Storm's words settled on her shoulders.
After a moment of silence, Jean turned her head slightly toward Storm. "Why did you do it?" She asked quietly. "Why join Hammer? Was it because of the Professor?"
Storm shook her head, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she leaned her shoulder against Jean's. Her hand reached over, grasping one of Jean's gently. "Not entirely. Although, I won't say it had no effect." She gazed out over the city, her eyes distant. "You have to understand, Jean… The writing on the wall is already there. Hammer will take over the world. In some ways, he already has."
The world economy was now tied to him to such an extent he could destroy the world by just… Stopping things, pulling back.
The rest was now simply the bloody business of making the rest of the world acknowledge the fact that Hammer held all the power.
Jean's eyes widened in disbelief. "And how can you agree with that?" She asked, her tone a mix of sadness and disbelief.
Storm looked at Jean with a serious expression, her voice steady. "Because rejecting reality does me no favors. You might see it as selling my soul, but I'm ensuring that metahumans will continue to be treated fairly. I'm positioning myself where I can make a difference, where I can influence things for the better." She raised an eyebrow, "Would you rather Emma Frost or me as an influence?"
Jean opened her mouth to speak, but Storm cut her off with a small, knowing smile. "Hammer tends to think with his… Well, you know. Like any man."
Jean gasped, her face turning bright red as her hand flew to her mouth. "Ororo… You didn't!"
Storm chuckled softly, shaking her head. "It was necessary, Jean. Every emperor in history has had a woman behind the throne, influencing his decisions for good or bad. I like to think I'll be able to help the good win out more often than not."
Her smile became somewhat impish, "And it's not like it's a chore… He even made me lose control, and that doesn't happen often anymore…"
Jean looked at Storm in a mix of fascination and horror. "But… He already has so many women around him. How can you stand that?" Her voice was barely a whisper, as if speaking it aloud would make it even more real.
Storm laughed, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh, that just means he knows what he's doing," She said with a wink, causing Jean's face to flush even redder. "Besides, for all his… Well, let's call them 'manslut' ways, he's surprisingly loyal to just a few women."
Jean shook her head, still looking thoroughly scandalized. "And you're going to be one of them?"
Storm hummed, her tone thoughtful. "Maybe. For all that he gathers women around him, he seems genuinely interested in finding 'the one.' We'll see what happens. But I need to remain close to him, Jean. To influence our future, if he turned fully to evil..."
She smiled at Jean, her eyes soft and full of warmth, though there was a trace of sadness there. "I hope you don't look down on me too much for this, Jean. It's necessary. And I'm not in any way unhappy. He saved Africa, after all. I owe him more than I can say."
Gaia had also approved of Storms choice, the environmental impacts Hammer made cleaning up the world as a byproduct of what he did, had made him a champion of Gaia in a way, although not anything official. Democracy didn't matter one whit to the spirit of Earth. And Storm had to reluctantly admit that if she had to be pick between democracy and all the benefits Hammer had brought, it wouldn't even be that difficult of a choice.
Democracy had hardly helped metahumans, the voice of the common man had been inherently uncaring of their issues, for those who knew.
Jean remained quiet for several minutes, her mind whirling with everything Storm had said. "This is so complicated," She groaned, finally letting out a frustrated sigh. She gave Storm a side hug, leaning into her friend's warmth. "I would never look down on you, but I don't think I could make the same choice."
Storm laughed, her voice light and teasing. "I hope not. I don't need the competition."
"Ororo!" Jean cried, her face flushing red once more as she swatted at her friend's arm.
They fell into a comfortable silence after that, the wind tugging at their hair as they watched the city below. The quiet was comforting, though the weight of the decisions they both faced hung heavy in the air between them.
After a while, Storm spoke again, her voice thoughtful. "You know… My position at UNESCO is open right now," She said softly, glancing sideways at Jean.
Jean bit her lip, looking down at her lap. "I don't know if I can do that to the Professor," She admitted, her voice small.
Storm nodded, her eyes distant as she thought over Jean's words. "How are they all doing, anyway?" She asked after a moment. "I've been keeping myself busy lately."
Jean looked away, her expression tightening. "Logan and Hank have both left…" She muttered, her voice barely audible, "Scott is trying to clamp down on everyone else, which is just making it so more of them want to leave, I think Kitty is almost ready to run away… She took the deaths hard…"
Storm sighed softly, her heart heavy. "Not surprising," She admitted quietly.
She hoped Logan wouldn't do something stupid, she knew recruiting him for Hammer was a non-starter.
Jean stared out at the skyline, her thoughts far away. "I don't know what I'm going to do, Ororo," She said softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Storm ruffled Jean's hair gently, her smile warm and reassuring. "Whatever you feel is right," She murmured. "Whether that's staying, joining me, or going your own way. Only you know the answer."
Jean closed her eyes for a moment, letting the silence stretch out between them. When she opened them again, she looked out at the city below, her heart heavy with the decision she'd known she needed to make for a while now.
"I don't want to stay at the mansion anymore."
"Okay."
Same time, Namibia, Africa.
Hela lounged in the warband's ruined camp, bathed in the harsh African sun as she meticulously cleaned blood from the intricate designs on one of her black leather boots. The camp was a shattered husk of what it once was - broken tents and smoldering fires were all that remained. She admired the stillness of it, how perfectly silent and dead it was now after her work. The warband had fallen quickly, and Hela had taken her time, enjoying their destruction, though the thrill had been fleeting. The enemies had been... Inadequate. She tilted her head, lost in thought, barely interested in the feeble resistance they'd offered.
They used child soldiers for Norn's sake! How ridiculous was that?
Everyone knew children made better assassins and spies.
Her eyes flicked up just as a spear whizzed past her, just as she tilted her head nonchalantly, the spear neatly avoiding her by an inch. She didn't even flinch.
"Better," She mused, her voice smooth and detached, her lips curling into a faint smile. "Not by much, but better."
A figure emerged from the treeline, stepping into the decimated camp. He was dressed in animal furs and leathers, the skins of lions and tigers draped over his broad, muscular shoulders. His physique was that of a warrior - solid, honed, and lethal. His eyes, sharp and wild, gleamed with hunger, and his long, dark hair fell in tangled waves over his shoulders. His face was half-hidden beneath a lion's mane, fashioned into a headdress.
Hela was almost interested, if only she couldn't feel how weak the man was, for someone of her stature.
The man carried a confidence that bordered on arrogance, his every step exuding the energy of a beast in pursuit of its prey. His grin was feral, showing off a row of sharp white teeth. The large hunting knife strapped to his side and the quiver of spears slung across his back seemed merely accessories to his raw physical power.
"I am Kraven the Hunter," He declared, his voice thick with relish, with some accent she couldn't identify - as she barely paid attention to the ants that scurried across this planet. "I have come to hunt a god!"
Hela's smile deepened, her fingers still absentmindedly wiping at the boot. She eyed him, intrigued by the boldness he displayed. It was still useless, but at least it was amusing.
Kraven grinned wider, his eyes gleaming. "This camp was a trap for you. And you've stepped right into it, Goddess."
Hela raised an eyebrow, a glint of amusement flashing across her sharp features. She slowly rose from her lounging position, standing tall, her dark armor gleaming under the African sun. Her gaze appraised him, taking in the wildness, the hunger. Her smile became dangerous, her eyes dancing with dark amusement.
"Think highly of yourself, don't you?" She said, her voice lilting with mockery. "You're above this rabble, I'll give you that. But in this situation…" Her grin sharpened, ferocious and predatory. "You're the prey, and I'm the huntress."
Kraven let out a booming laugh, stepping forward with confidence. "We shall see!" His voice vibrated with excitement, the thrill of the hunt coursing through him. His hand hovered near his blade, eager to test himself against this formidable creature.
Suddenly, a swirling orange portal opened just to the side of them, casting warm light across the ravaged camp. Hela didn't look away from Kraven, but her eyes flickered with interest at the arrival. Out stepped Justin Hammer, followed closely by Domino, who wore her usual unimpressed expression as she surveyed the scene.
Justin ignored Kraven completely, his focus solely on Hela. "I'm going after the worm behind Apocalypse," He announced, his voice tight with suppressed fury. "After much thought.."
Domino cleared her throat, murmuring under her breath, "Nagging." The word was just loud enough to elicit an irritated twitch from Justin.
He shot her a glare before continuing, "After much thought," He said loudly, emphasizing the words, "I've decided that backup is not amiss. I figured you might want to get your own pound of flesh, Hela."
Hela tilted her head, resting her chin in her hand as she considered him. "Maybe later," She replied, her tone dripping with lazy amusement. "Mommy's busy right now." Her eyes were locked on Kraven, the tension between them crackling with bloodlust.
Kraven bared his teeth in a wide grin, the wild excitement only growing at the new arrivals. "Get out of the way, Hammer!" He growled, his voice filled with confidence. "This woman is mine!"
Domino winced, muttering, "Oh, shouldn't have said it like that..."
Justin's expression hardened, and the air around him seemed to pulse with rising power. His anger, already simmering from the recent attacks on his business and reputation, boiled over. He didn't have time for distractions, not when Sinister was within reach. With a quick motion, a small portal opened over his hand, and the glowing Power Stone slid into his grasp. Energy surged through him, crackling with unimaginable force. Hela straightened, intrigued as she watched the display, her eyes gleaming with interest.
One moment, Kraven was standing tall, confident in his hunt. The next, Justin was upon him, his hand outstretched. He slammed his glowing hand into Kraven's chest, and the world seemed to explode.
A massive shockwave burst from the impact, ripping through the earth and sky alike. Smoke and dust billowed upward as the ground beneath them split open, and when the haze finally cleared, a massive gorge stretched several miles wide in front of them. Kraven was gone, erased from existence in a single, brutal moment.
Justin's voice was flat, unyielding. "You're coming with me. Right now." His body still pulsed with energy as he opened another portal, sliding the Power Stone away.
Hela stood, her interest piqued, and sauntered over to him. She ran a finger along the edge of his suit, her lips curling into a playful smile. "Hmm, your domains are almost there, little godling," She murmured, her voice like silk. "Grab the stone again, and I believe they will settle…"
Justin's eyes flicked to her, considering the offer. After a moment, he dismissed it with a wave. "Not important right now." He motioned to the portal. "Kill everything on the other side, except Sinister."
Hela's eyes lit up with excitement, her bloodlust palpable in the air. "You do know how to show me a good time," She purred, stepping through the portal without hesitation.
Domino cast Justin a wary glance, raising an eyebrow. "You sure about this, boss? You're putting holes in continents right now. Maybe not the best time to go off half-cocked."
Justin waved her off, his expression set in stone. "We're going. Now."
Domino sighed, shaking her head, but she stepped through the portal. "Eileen's gonna be so pissed at me," She muttered under her breath as she vanished through the swirling light.
Justin followed them, stepping through the portal into a new world - the Savage Land.
It appeared Sinister had never actually been in Egypt. He'd been piloting bodies… But he couldn't hide from Heimdall. And Justin would have him now!
The sight that greeted them was one of raw, untamed beauty. The Savage Land stretched out before them, a prehistoric paradise locked away from the modern world. Towering, ancient trees loomed overhead, their thick canopies casting deep shadows across the jungle floor. The air was thick with humidity, the scent of damp earth and rich vegetation filling their lungs.
Massive ferns and lush, green vines twisted around the trunks of the trees, and the sounds of life echoed all around them - the calls of strange, ancient creatures, the rustling of leaves as something enormous moved in the underbrush. In the distance, a towering waterfall cascaded down the side of a rocky cliff, its roar blending with the natural symphony of the jungle. Far off in the distance, the silhouettes of dinosaurs could be seen moving through the dense foliage, their massive forms a reminder of the land's primal nature.
It was a land untouched by time, wild and fierce, a place where only the strongest survived. And somewhere within its depths, Sinister waited.
Justin eyed the giant tower before them that rose up through the foliage, well, let's start right there…
Twenty minutes later,
Hela tore through the ranks of the tower's defenders with gleeful abandon, moving with lethal precision. The creatures that stood in her path, from towering dinosaurs draped in crude armor working as war beasts, to pterodactyl-like men that attacked as warriors, they were all no match for her. Each strike of her conjured weapons brought them down with a sudden, brutal efficiency. Her green ethereal blades shimmered in the bright sun, carving through their ranks and leaving the battlefield littered with fallen warriors and beasts.
She sidestepped a charging dinosaur, allowing its momentum to carry it past her before sending a necro sword the size of an SUV toward it. The creature collapsed, unmoving, as Hela barely broke stride after skewering the beast. Above, winged creatures dived, their talons outstretched, but she sent them crashing to the ground with a flick of her wrist, leaving their wings shattered and unable to carry them aloft again.
At this point, the pterodactyl men had all broken before her, running away from the Goddess of Death as she administered her namesake. Only beasts remained, the towers defenses broken in the face of Hela's gleeful advance.
Domino, perched on the periphery of the battlefield, took careful shots, her bullets finding their mark with expert precision as she sniped down the fliers. She picked off any who thought they might escape Hela's wrath, though few managed to get that far. Each shot from Domino's gun was clean, a single bullet enough to end her targets without unnecessary effort.
As they reached the base of the tower, Justin looked up at the towering structure. The mix of ancient stonework and modern metal work stretched high into the sky, weathered yet still formidable. Its surface was carved with intricate designs and symbols, not a language he knew.
Probably whatever counted for a language amongst the natives. He looked down at a dead pterodactyl man with distaste. The Savage Land was a proper name, he'd have to make sure none of them entered the proper world - there were limits to his allowances for what constituted humanity.
At least the Dinosaurs were interesting. Perhaps he could build a park on some island somewhere…
Justin contemplated the tower. And the absolute annoyance it would be to fight room to room to get through it all, while Sinister plotted his escape.
"He'll survive a fall," Justin said coldly, his eyes narrowing. Without waiting for further comment, he summoned the Power Stone again, and as the stone materialized in his hand, his body began to glow with a pulsing, radiant energy. The power coursed through him, filling him with a sense of control and raw potential.
Hela giggled, her eyes glinting with excitement. "Oooh, you're going to set your domains if you use it now," She teased, her voice laced with anticipation. "That amount of power... It's inevitable." She eyed the stone hungrily.
Domino's face grew more serious as she glanced between Justin and the tower. "You sure about this, boss?" She asked, her tone cautious. "I know you want him, want to punish him, but is this the choice you'd make normally? To do this... Here, like this, right now?"
Justin's glowing eyes turned toward her, his expression calm but resolute. "For too long, I was passive," He said. "I avoided risks, took the careful path, trying to keep everyone appeased just enough to follow along. But it's time I stopped holding back. It's time I took what I want."
How could he rule, if he did not grab power with his own two hands?
Domino sighed softly but nodded. "As long as you're sure, boss." A small smirk tugged at her lips. "Just so you know, I'm not about to worship you."
Justin grinned at that. "I know."
With a flick of his wrist, Justin unleashed the power of the stone. He swiped his hand through the air, and the energy erupted outward. The bottom third of the tower disintegrated in a flash, the stone and earth in its path obliterated, leaving a massive crater that extended for miles.
Almost cutting the Savage Lands in half.
And that was with Justin specifically trying to use the smallest amount of power.
The tower began to fall, falling sideways as the foundation ceased to exist. Then, with a mighty crash, the ancient structure collapsed into the ground and sent clouds of dust and debris billowing into the air. Hela laughed with unbridled glee, knocking away any debris that came too close, thoroughly enjoying the show.
Justin portaled the Power Stone away, his glowing body still shining like a star. He dropped to one knee, feeling the weight of the power that surged through him. All around the Savage Land, its inhabitants stopped, their primal instincts alerting them to the shift in power. A new god had been born, and they could feel it rippling through the air, vibrating in their very bones.
Hela approached him, her steps slow and deliberate, as if savoring the moment. She sniffed the air around Justin, grinning. "Ah," She moaned softly, "That new god smell." Her eyes sparkled with dark humor. "Let's see... God of Power and Might, delicious. Humanity and civilization… How boring." She smirked, teasing him. "God of Progress and innovation, makes sense I suppose. Domination… Nice. And sex and Lust... Well... Isn't that interesting." Then she stopped, a brief look of shock on her face, before she composed herself.
Domino burst out laughing, shaking her head. "Of course." She rolled her eyes, "Sunil owes me soo much money now, he should have known not to bet against me."
Justin rose to his feet, his newfound strength settling into him like an extension of his being. He felt different, stronger, more connected to the world and its inhabitants. He grinned at Domino. "So, not much has changed then," He said. "I was already a sex god."
"Pfft, you wish," Domino retorted with a grin.
Hela studied him for a moment longer, her eyes narrowing slightly in thought. "No war or conqueror domain," She murmured. "A pity. But not half bad, for a pretender." She smirked haughtily, "At least it's not as pathetic as being a God of Thunder or Mischief."
"Shots fired," He said amused at what Loki would think, not only about his very minor domain, but about Justin somehow getting such strong ones - due to billions of prayers. He gave Hela a look, "What are you holding back though…?"
Hela pouted, "Must you notice everything." She complained, whacking him with a necrosword, Justin didn't even feel it. "Many Gods have a dozen lesser domains, not unlike you, they're usually tied to a higher domain. Like Death…" She sighed dramatically, "Sex and Lust, Progress and Innovation, Humanity and Civilization, even Power and Might… You're a God of Life…"
Justin blinked at that, it seemed he had avoided the healing domain he was loath to accept, yet still qualified as a God of Life. In some ways he supposed it made sense, he was all about progress and uplifting humanity. Hopefully it wouldn't mean he couldn't kill, now…
"Domination doesn't really fit the mold." He murmured in thought.
Hela smirked, "I agree, you're not a usual boring God of Life, perhaps you don't operate quite as such." She got a coy look on her face, "Life and… Death, an interesting pairing, don't you think?"
Justin ignored her as he turned back toward the remnants of the tower. He could sense the presence of those within - those who were not fully human. His new powers gave him an awareness of all things human, and within the wreckage, there was one presence that stood out, a human signature twisted and altered but unmistakable. Sinister.
With a mere gesture, Justin tore a portal open, the raw power of his new godhood allowing him to bend space without the need for the motion of his sling ring. On the other side of the portal, he found Sinister, buried under what was left of his tower, his once meticulous appearance now in ruins.
Justin stepped through the portal, his divine energy crackling around him, and looked down at Sinister with cold, calculating eyes.
"Hello there," Justin said, his voice calm and filled with a quiet menace.
Soon after, Hammerhaven.
Justin entered the interrogation room, flanked by Hela and Domino. The air was filled with a sort of pressure, an oppressive weight that seemed to press down on everything within the room. In the center, Nathaniel Essex - Sinister - hung suspended against the far wall, his arms and legs spread wide, held in place by Justin's sheer will. The domination aspect of his newly minted godhood in use, the power shimmered faintly around the villain, keeping him utterly immobilized. Sinister's eyes darted around in fear, his mouth bound tightly by an unseen force, preventing him from making a sound.
"Domino," Justin said, his voice flat and cold, "Get Helen."
Domino nodded, casting a quick, sideways glance at Hela as she pointed two fingers at her own eyes and then back at Hela, a silent warning for the goddess to behave while she was gone. Hela merely raised an amused brow, watching Domino leave before turning her attention back to Sinister. She idly twirled one of her necroswords between her fingers, studying him with casual interest.
"You've managed to inspire great loyalty in your servants," She mused aloud, poking Sinister lightly with the tip of her blade, slowly sinking the tip in, just enough to make a point. "It's almost… Admirable."
Justin didn't answer immediately, his eyes never leaving Sinister's quivering form. The tension in the room built like a slowly rising tide, and his silence spoke volumes. Only after a moment did he give a slight, almost imperceptible nod in response to Hela's comment. His focus was not on the Goddess of Death at the moment.
Hela, undeterred, continued to observe him with a calculating gaze. She cocked her head slightly, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. "You wield impressive power now," She said, her voice almost a purr. "While not on par with a Goddess of Death, of course… Your divinity has granted you the ability to do anything you desire." Her tone was probing, testing the boundaries of his patience.
Without looking at her, Justin responded, his voice cold and biting. "You're not a very patient woman, are you?"
Hela's laugh was dark and lilting, filling the room with a sound both haunting and beautiful. "I am very patient, Justin. I've spent a millennia waiting, plotting. Patience is one of my finest qualities."
Justin scoffed, finally glancing at her with a sharp glare. "Yet you think my newly elevated status means I'll be fooled into granting your wishes?"
Hela's lips curled into a sly smile, her eyes gleaming with something dangerous. "Your wishes as well, you just don't realize it yet."
Justin shook his head, his attention shifting back to Sinister. He flexed his power slightly, and a crack echoed in the room as Sinister's legs were crushed beneath an invisible force. Sinister's face twisted in pain, but the legs immediately began to heal themselves, knitting together with astonishing speed - some experiment of his own design, no doubt.
He would have recognized it if it was Extremis.
"You're wrong, Hela," Justin said, his voice low and deliberate. "I know exactly what I want."
Before Hela could respond, the door swung open, and Domino returned, this time with Helen Cho in tow. Helen immediately dropped to her knees in front of Justin, bowing her head with reverence.
"Praise be to Hammer," She murmured, her voice trembling with devotion.
Justin waved her off, his expression indifferent. "None of that. Get to your feet. I want the interrogation serum. We're going to bring all the pain we can to maximum levels."
Helen stood quickly, her movements shaky but eager as she made her way to the table where a collection of tools and vials were neatly arranged. Her eyes flicked back to Justin every few moments, as if awaiting further instruction or approval.
Justin leaned in close to Sinister's face, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "You might think I'm going to ask you questions, that I'll offer you a chance to make yourself useful, maybe even bargain for something." His presence intensified, the weight of his divine power pressing down on Sinister until it felt like the air itself was squeezing him. "But you're mistaken. I'm not here for information. I just want you to hurt."
Sinister's eyes widened, panic flickering behind them as he tried to struggle against the invisible bonds, but it was futile. He could do nothing but stare into the cold, merciless gaze of Justin Hammer, a newborn God.
And in no way was he the God of Mercy.
Helen approached with a syringe in one hand and a scalpel in the other, her expression one of barely contained excitement. As she moved closer, she glanced over at Hela, clearly curious about the Goddess of Death standing so casually nearby. Her eyes darted between Hela and Justin before she hesitated and asked Hela, "Would any children of his be demigods?" Her voice was soft, almost shy, but filled with a deep seated curiosity.
Justin sighed audibly, his frustration barely concealed as Domino covered her mouth, struggling not to laugh.
Hela's amusement grew, a smirk playing on her lips as she regarded Helen with an arched brow. "Most likely," She said in a smooth, almost teasing tone. "I've never dealt with this kind of raised divinity in person, but I suppose you'd have to… Yest it to be sure." There was a knowing glint in her eyes as she looked back at Justin.
Justin pointed at Helen, his tone sharp with authority. "Do not test it," He ordered, his words layered with the weight of his domination aspect. The force of it pushing down, making it harder to resist his words.
Helen shuddered, clearly feeling the power of his command wash over her. "Yes, sir," She replied quickly, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked away, focusing instead on preparing the serum.
Hela chuckled under her breath, amused by the dynamic in the room. She paced slowly, occasionally glancing at Sinister with mild interest. "You know," She said idly, "For all the power in this room, it's interesting to me that you choose to indulge in such… Small things." Her eyes flicked to Justin, a playful challenge in her gaze. "Crushing bones, inflicting pain - it's so... Mortal. Don't you think you could be doing more?"
Justin shot her a dark look. "I'm doing exactly what I want to do, Hela. This is personal." His eyes turned back to Sinister, narrowing as his hand tightened into a fist, the sound of bones crunching faintly filling the room again.
Sinister tried to scream, but his mouth remained bound, the sound of his agony locked inside his throat. His body writhed as much as the invisible restraints would allow, but there was no escape, no respite from the torment.
Helen stepped forward, syringe in hand, her movements precise as she prepared to administer the serum. She glanced up at Justin, waiting for his nod before she moved closer to Sinister, carefully injecting the serum into his neck.
"You'll feel everything now," Helen murmured to Sinister, her voice almost clinical, detached. Watching in curiosity."No matter how fast you heal, the pain will remain."
Justin watched as well, his expression cold and unyielding as Sinister's body tensed, his eyes wide with the realization of what was happening. There was no escape from this. No bargaining. No reasoning.
And Justin reveled in it.
As Sinister convulsed, Justin stepped back, his posture relaxed but his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He turned to Hela, who had been watching the entire ordeal with a mixture of amusement and intrigue.
"I could do a lot more," Justin said, his voice calm, almost conversational now. "But sometimes… This is what's needed, something… Simple."
Hela chuckled softly, twirling her necrosword in her fingers once more. "Oh, I do understand. Pain has its place, after all." She smiled darkly, her eyes glittering with approval. "But do try not to lose yourself in it too much, Justin. After all, a god should aspire to something... Grander.. Personal pain is nothing compared to the pain of a nation, a planet."
Justin didn't respond, but his expression remained as cold and resolute as ever. He knew exactly what he was doing. And for now, Sinister's suffering was just what the doctor ordered.
He couldn't let loose on Earth, not yet. Not without declaring war.
He'd pick his enemies apart, just like Sinister. Wring all the information out of them, after they'd suffered to the point of begging to share it.
Then…
God-Emperor didn't sound too bad, now did it?
A day later, Washington D.C.
The Oval Office was a hive of tension. President Ellis sat at his desk, hands clenched into tight fists as he surveyed the room. Cabinet secretaries, generals, and Alexander Pierce, the head of SHIELD, stood or sat around him, all locked in a heated argument. The atmosphere was thick with frustration, anger, and simmering fear.
"Hammer's going too far," One of the generals blustered, his face flushed with indignation. "This isn't how things should work! He's acting like he's in charge of the country!"
Ellis leaned back in his chair, bitterness etched into every line of his face. "And what exactly do you suggest we do about it?" He asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Taken a look at Europe lately, General?" His eyes gleamed with a dark sort of humor. "Did you see what happened to their leaders when they tried to stand up to him? They're all running for cover while Hammer picks them off one by one." He made a gesture of disgust, "Hell, he isn't even doing it himself, the people are doing it for him!"
The general swallowed, clearly unsettled, but before he could respond, Pierce stepped forward, his expression cool and measured.
"Antagonism serves no one," Pierce said, his voice calm, though there was a sharp edge to it. "Hammer has been… Good to this country, for the most part." He reminded them, his eyes sweeping across the room.
That set off a flurry of protests from several cabinet secretaries. They spoke over one another, voices rising in indignation as they laid out their grievances against Justin Hammer. He'd undermined the government, cut them out of deals, and left Washington looking like an afterthought. Big business, the media, the public - all eyes were on Hammer Industries now, not the White House.
"He's destabilized everything!" One cabinet secretary shouted. "The government's barely holding on to its authority! The man's practically built a state within a state!"
"The economy is thrumming, sure," Another one said, "But we're losing control! The people aren't looking to us for answers anymore. They're looking to him!"
Ellis slammed his hands down on the desk, silencing the room in an instant. He glared at his cabinet, frustration and weariness etched into his features. His presidency had been a trial of constant crisis, and this - dealing with Hammer - was proving to be the most exasperating of all.
"Enough!" He barked. They all fell silent. Ellis turned his gaze to Pierce, narrowing his eyes. "Tell me SHIELD has a way to stop him from going too far. I'd rather not be deposed the way the Slovakian prime minister was." The sarcasm in his voice barely masked the underlying fear. Hammer's power was growing, and Ellis could feel the ground beneath his feet slipping away.
Pierce, ever the calm voice amongst braying donkeys, remained composed, his expression betraying nothing. "Of course, we do, Mr. President. SHIELD has contingencies for every situation. You can always count on SHIELD." His words dripped with confidence, but there was a quiet intensity in his gaze, as if daring anyone to question SHIELD's capabilities.
Ellis, though, wasn't entirely convinced. He looked at Pierce with skepticism, his lips pressing into a tight line. Still, for the moment, he chose not to push further. Pierce was one of the few people he had left to rely on, and alienating him now would be disastrous.
The Vice President, sitting quietly through most of the exchange, finally spoke up, his tone mild but laced with sarcasm. "Hammer made himself the sole arbiter of the deal with Asgard. Surely, we aren't just letting that stand, are we?"
Pierce grimaced, glancing at Ellis for permission to address the issue. Ellis waved his hand impatiently, urging him to continue.
"My Vice President," Pierce began, his voice taking on a measured tone, "I understand, and I agree, the lack of respect inherent in the way he bulldozed us all at the summit was… infuriating. But in the end, America - and SHIELD - will be the biggest recipients of this windfall."
The Vice President raised an eyebrow. "You mean outside of Hammer Industries, of course."
Pierce's lips tightened, and he forced himself to nod. "Yes, outside of Hammer Industries. But what choice did we have? Did you want to demand Asgard break their word and deal with us instead?"
Ellis rubbed his temples, his frustration mounting. "This is all pointless. There's no use crying over spilled milk," He muttered, his voice low and bitter. "We lost that battle. Now give me strategies going forward. How can we turn this ship around?"
Silence blanketed the Oval Office as the room's occupants exchanged uncertain glances. For all their bravado, no one had a clear answer.
The tension was broken when the door to the Oval Office swung open. A military aide rushed in, his face pale, a dispatch clutched tightly in his hand. He quickly crossed the room and handed the paper to the Secretary of Defense. As the secretary read the message, his face blanched visibly, all the color draining from his skin.
Ellis's heart sank at the sight. He'd come to recognize that look - the look of someone about to deliver yet another catastrophe. His eyes closed for a moment as if bracing himself. "What's wrong now?" He demanded, his voice a mix of exhaustion and irritation.
They were still dealing with part of the US military going rogue for God's sake! The press and Congress both were cutting him to ribbons! What could possibly have happened now?
The Secretary of Defense swallowed hard before speaking, his voice solemn and heavy. "China has invaded Taiwan."
Of course they have… Ellis thought, wondering briefly if being President was worth it anymore.
For a moment, the Oval Office was utterly silent. The words hung in the air like a bomb waiting to go off.
Then, all at once, chaos erupted. Cabinet secretaries shouted over one another, generals barked orders and questions, and the once-organized room devolved into utter pandemonium.
Ellis just looked at Pierce, and the abject shock on his face did not fill him with confidence.
Has SHIELD even gotten anything right in the past two years? He wondered, even as he prepared himself for the worst.
Worst of all, his first thought?
Call Justin Hammer.
He grimaced.
We've lost already.
Hammerhaven,
Justin sat in the war room of his Hammerhaven headquarters, surrounded by the quiet hum of technology and the glowing screens that covered every inch of the walls. Before him sat most of his inner circle - Yelena, Domino, Phantazia, and Sunil. They each bore the weight of the last twenty four hours in their expressions, a mix of exhaustion and calculated determination. It had been a brutal day.
Nail, his AI, floated silently in the background, projecting a detailed hologram of the damage report. The final death toll stood at over 1,200. His factories, though equipped with world-class security, had been no match for a coordinated strike from power-armored soldiers. Entire facilities reduced to rubble, civilians caught in the crossfire, their bodies crushed beneath debris. The eerie glow of the report's statistics seemed to make the air heavier.
Justin leaned back in his chair, feeling the constant hum of whispers in the back of his mind - a side effect of his recent ascent to divinity. Prayers. He could hear them all, faint and persistent, from people across the globe. An aspect of his domain of Humanity, he was fairly certain.
Certainly Hela and Thor and those like it did not get prayers like this.
And those he knew personally? They were deafening by comparison. Helen Cho, in particular, was like a constant murmur in his ear, always offering praise or praying for his approval. He could ignore it if he focused hard enough, but it was still there, like a buzzing fly he couldn't swat away.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts, focusing on the present. "So… It was the Mandarin?" He asked, his tone cold, cutting through the room like a blade.
Sunil was the first to speak. "In all likelihood, yes. We don't have concrete proof, but based on Osborn's last known location and his movements, it points to the Mandarin being behind this."
Yelena leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table, her gaze sharp. "Of all your enemies, he's the one most likely to sow chaos like this. The timing, the precision, the scale - it fits his MO. With China now attacking Taiwan and creating an international crisis, it lines up too perfectly. He's trying to destabilize both you and the U.S."
Phantazia, catching Yelena's glance, took over seamlessly. "It's all designed to hit at the heart of your perceived invincibility, sir. You've built yourself as the one who can protect Earth, and now that narrative is being ripped apart. You're seen as tied to America, and now both you and America look weak if you don't act. But if you do act, especially in the wrong way, I'm certain that's exactly what the Mandarin wants."
Justin remained silent for a moment, his fingers steepled as he considered the implications. The Mandarin. A relic of an older era. A man who, while not necessarily a powerhouse compared to what Justin had become, was a master of manipulation, strategy, and chaos. The Mandarin had exposed Justin's greatest weakness - his vast reach. He was everywhere, but being everywhere meant being stretched too thin to protect everything.
The destruction of his factories, the loss of life - it wasn't just a blow to his company; it was a direct hit to his reputation. He had built himself up as the guardian of Earth, the man who could secure its future. And now, with these attacks, that very foundation was cracking. People would talk. The world would see the cracks in his armor, and they would doubt him. His enemies would grow bolder.
He could feel the rage bubbling beneath his cool exterior. The Mandarin was small in terms of personal power - at least, in comparison to Justin's newfound divinity - but that didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. The fact that Nail couldn't even find him or his web of assassins and terrorists, only added to the problem. The man was a ghost, striking from the shadows, picking his targets with surgical precision.
"He's exposed a weakness," Justin said, finally breaking the silence. "I can't protect everything. Not if I'm spread this thin." It was reality, Hammer industries were global, they were everywhere.
Yelena and the others exchanged glances, knowing full well that Justin's next decision would shape the course of their future. War with China? Retaliation against a phantom enemy? Neither were ideal outcomes, but something had to be done.
"If I allow him to keep taking pot shots at me," Justin continued, his voice low and dark, "It'll destroy my credibility. The world's already watching. I'm supposed to be the one who can protect Earth. If I can't even protect my own people…"
His words trailed off, leaving an unspoken question hanging in the air. How far would he go to preserve his empire?
Justin leaned back, closing his eyes briefly as he let the weight of the decision settle on his shoulders. He opened them again, and when he spoke, there was a finality to his words.
"If he wants war, let him have it."
His inner circle straightened, their expressions sharpening as they absorbed the gravity of his statement.
"We're in the endgame now," Justin said, his voice cold and resolved. "Let chaos reign. When the dust settles, I'll come out on top."
The room fell into a deep, tense silence. They knew what was coming.
War.
Author's note:
The Mandarin hasn't even made any moves with his own forces yet, he's creating chaos, muddling the waters.
Chaos starts,
And we have a God of Life in the building.
Hopefully most of his domains make sense, they won't control him, but they will have an impact on his personality, not that much will be different as he was already like that.
Finally he'll be able to compete with the likes of Stark… A Domain of Progress and Innovation will allow him a lot.
Hopefully it all seems like it's working out, and of course, he'll be even more anti-xeno with a domain of Humanity.
Savage Lands are in for a rough time.
Cheers
JollyHippopotamus
- Location
- The Internet?
Hooray, we finally got Sinister! Now it's just time to get Wenwu. And Pierce. Osborn... Oh, and Loki! Then T'Challa... Thanos...
Gosh, these guys certainly are making like Hydra. Each enemy he stomps down, and two more take their place!
Good chapter, thank you for sharing it with us!
But then again, he's got so many domains, doesn't he? Seems... muddled. The explanation of sub domains a little bit after certainly helps, but I suppose we'll just have to see which one settles into the primary position, whether that's Life, Humanity, or something else.
General Kenobi! "Justin Hammer! You are a bold one. Also, owwwwwwwwwww..."
Krillin stop you're making him stronger! Justin, stop you're giving her what she wants! All that commanding... oh myyyy... Why would she try to resist you, dude?
Gosh, these guys certainly are making like Hydra. Each enemy he stomps down, and two more take their place!
Good chapter, thank you for sharing it with us!
Justin, no. They might be truly beautiful and deserve our respect, but let's never go back to dinosaur island.
'And where did that bring you? Back to me.' Goodness, Hela's really excited to have a worthwhile capital 'G' God to smooch, isn't she?
Or not.
But then again, he's got so many domains, doesn't he? Seems... muddled. The explanation of sub domains a little bit after certainly helps, but I suppose we'll just have to see which one settles into the primary position, whether that's Life, Humanity, or something else.But the sword's already pointy... I'd say you could take another stab at the phrasing here, but I don't want to get skewered by other commenters. Just something to be en garde about.
Brings a whole new meaning to 'Lord have mercy!' I'd say he should ask Nail to look in her files just to make sure, but I think I already know what her answer will be. "File not found."
Should this be 'Test?'
Should this be 'Mr.' here?
Chapter 39: War, War never changes.
Chapter 39: War, War never changes.
Here we go, another chappie sponsored by the lovely lads and lasses of Patron.
The War has kicked off! And it's not even the most important thing to deal with, alas. Also this is not real, so don't take any RL stuff to anything war or nation-like bs that happens in this fic.
If only the Mandarin knew how unimportant he is, but he's trying really hard though, guys. A for effort.
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc.
Hope you enjoy.
November, 2009, India.
General Amarjit Singh paced back and forth in the command post, his normally composed demeanor shattered by the chaos outside. The small concrete bunker they were holed up in shook with every artillery blast, dust and plaster falling in thin streams from the ceiling, coating everything in a fine white powder. The sound of explosions and gunfire echoed through the air, mixed with the incessant crackle of the radios that surrounded him. His men, huddled over their stations, frantically relayed messages, shouting orders, and coordinating what little reinforcements they could muster.
"Where are my reports?!" General Singh roared, his voice barely cutting through the din. He slammed his fist on the table, scattering maps and notes. "I want an update on every single unit on the front line! Now!"
His staff scrambled, trying to organize the chaos into something resembling useful intelligence. Outside, the unmistakable sound of machine gun fire rattled on, accompanied by the deep, rhythmic booms of Chinese artillery. The general could hear the screams of mortar shells flying through the air, each one a reminder of the inevitable destruction raining down on their position.
In his other hand, General Singh clutched a satellite phone, his knuckles white from gripping it too hard. His voice was strained as he shouted into the receiver, the sound of desperation seeping into his usual air of command.
"Where is the support you promised me, Major Rao?!" He barked at the logistics officer back at headquarters, spitting the words as though each one burned on the way out. "We are being torn apart here! My line is being overrun! If we don't get reinforcements in the next hour, we'll be pushed back to the base of the mountains!"
On the other end of the line, Major Santosh Rao's voice crackled back, grim and apologetic. "Sir, we're doing the best we can, the Americans are already responding to the situation in Taiwan. They've acknowledged our call for assistance against this unwarranted aggression, but they don't have enough forces nearby to assist immediately. We're stretched thin with battles at every point of the border and beyond."
Somehow, the Chinese had managed to get Tens of thousands of men behind the lines, and together with the pounding of the Chinese Air Force against Indian military bases, they were preventing reinforcements from easily accessing the front. Singh knew all this, but he still had to try, for his soldiers. They were all dead if they didn't receive reinforcements now.
General Singh's face twisted into a mask of barely controlled fury at what was happening, his jaw clenching as he forced himself not to smash the phone against the wall. "Stretched thin?" He growled, his voice low and venomous. "The Chinese are throwing men away for every inch of ground, here! They're pouring over the pass like a damned flood! We can't hold like this!" His voice rose as another explosion rocked the building, sending more debris raining down onto the general's already dust-covered uniform.
"We're doing what we can, General," Major Rao replied, the weight of the situation heavy in his tone. "Reserves are being called up, and the nearest garrison is en route even through the bombing. You just have to hold for a little longer."
General Singh sank into his chair, defeated for a moment, the sounds of war pounding relentlessly outside. He looked over at his men, who were frantically working their own lines, shouting into headsets, calling for support, trying to coordinate an increasingly chaotic battlefield. They all looked as exhausted as he felt.
"We can't hold..." Singh muttered under his breath, though the phone caught it. "There's too many of them, for every soldier we kill, there's ten more flooding over our lines."
There was silence on the other end of the line for a brief moment before Major Rao spoke again, his voice thick with regret. "We weren't prepared for this, General. No one was. But do what you can. They won't get away with this. We will push them back."
Small comfort to all the dead, Singh thought bitterly.
The general let out a harsh, bitter laugh in the end. "Push them back?" His eyes were wild with frustration. "Just nuke the bastards. Let them feel what it means to cross India!"
The suggestion wasn't truly serious - more an expression of his exhaustion and frustration than anything else. But the desperation was real. How had it come to this? China was risking everything. Was it madness? A Skrull infiltration? None of it made any sense.
They had to know they couldn't win this! India and the international community would fight back! Even with the UN dead, no one would accept China conquering India.
"We can't," Major Rao's voice cut through his thoughts, hard and definitive. "No one can."
Singh frowned, his spine straightening, alarm bells ringing in his head. He barked into the phone, "What the hell do you mean, 'no one can'?"
On the other end, Major Rao paused, the sound of rustling papers filtering through the speaker. When he finally spoke again, his tone was far more subdued, almost disbelieving. "Justin Hammer sent a video to all world leaders right after the attack on Taiwan. He promised total annihilation to any nation that deployed nuclear weapons in the coming conflicts."
Singh scoffed loudly, momentarily forgetting the chaos outside. "Hammer? He's just a businessman, no matter how powerful! Sure, he can throw his weight around against some alien freaks, but does he really think he can make demands like that?"
That was patently absurd. There were always allowances made for big corporations, that's how capitalism worked nowadays, but did the man really think he could just make commands like that to the world? To world powers even?
The silence on the other end stretched out, making Singh feel the gravity of what had just been said. Finally, Major Rao responded, his voice weak, almost reluctant. "In the video, he showed a simulation... Of what he could do with that glowing stone he used against the invaders. If he's not bluffing... General, he could wipe out India or China at will, he's worse than a nuclear deterrent, on his own!"
General Singh gaped, momentarily speechless. He shook his head, refusing to believe it. "That's a bluff!" He shouted into the phone. "No man is that powerful!"
"Maybe," Major Rao conceded quietly, sounding like he didn't believe it. "But no one's willing to be the first to call it, not even China. Good luck, General. Just hold. Reinforcements are on the way. I've got other fronts to handle."
The line went dead, and for a moment, General Singh just sat there, the phone still clutched in his hand. He could hear the chaos around him - men shouting, artillery roaring, and the terrifying, ever-present hum of battle closing in - but his mind was elsewhere, racing through the implications of what he'd just learned.
Finally, he snapped back to the present, gesturing toward one of his aides. "How long until they break through?" He asked, his voice low, almost resigned.
The aide, a young officer with a pale face and wide, fearful eyes, looked up from his station. "Less than half an hour is likely, sir," He reported, his voice trembling slightly. "Maybe less if the Chinese Air Force returns to this front for another bombing run."
General Singh exhaled slowly, a grim smile forming on his face as he reached for the gun holstered at his side. "Men," He said, standing up and addressing the room, his voice regaining its steel. "It's been a pleasure commanding you. I won't order any of you to stand with me, but I'm getting out there, and I'm making the bastards pay with blood for every inch of Indian soil they take."
There was no hesitation. No one spoke, but the look on every face told him that they would follow him, no matter the odds. There was no chance of survival, but they would not go down without a fight. The general adjusted his helmet, feeling the weight of his decisions bear down on him as he left the bunker.
It made him proud that every man under his command followed him out. His thoughts went briefly to his wife and kids, as he lamented leaving them, not being able to see his kids grow up.
Just then, a strange sound filled the air - a distant whooshing sound, like something cutting through the sky. The men looked up instinctively, expecting another barrage of Chinese bombs or artillery to fall on them. But instead, they saw hundreds of black and silver shapes descending from the sky - hundreds of power armors flying in formation, blotting out the sun.
One of the armors broke from formation, landing in a textbook superhero stance in front of the bunker. The armor's eyes gleamed in the dim light as it stood up, turning to face General Singh with machine-like precision.
"General," The drone intoned, its voice modulated but clear, "Hammer Industries is here to assist. The Iron Legion will push the enemy back. Please ensure your men do not engage; our targeting systems will interpret the fire as enemy action."
The general stared in disbelief as the drone took off into the air once again, joining the swarm of power armors heading directly toward the advancing Chinese forces. For a moment, he could do nothing but gape.
"Maybe..." He muttered, shaking his head as the reality set in. "Maybe Hammer really can do more than I thought..."
Then, with renewed energy, he spun on his heel, roaring at his staff. "What are you looking at, you layabouts?! Back inside! Get on the line and spread the news! I don't want our boys getting chewed up by those things!"
As he rushed back inside, General Amarjit Singh felt something he hadn't felt in hours - hope. China's attack had caught them all off guard, but now, there was someone responding. And if anyone could push back the tide, it was the man who seemed to be capable of anything: Justin Hammer.
He sent a little prayer to the man, thanking him for saving them where his government couldn't, praying it would be enough.
He wouldn't lose all his men today after all.
Same time, Cairo.
Justin stood on the wall of his Cairo compound, his gaze fixed on the sprawling flying city in front of him. It was a scene of organized chaos, a testament to the relentless efficiency of Hammer Industries. The city's rebuilding had commenced at a breakneck pace, and all around him, he could see the evidence of his vision taking shape.
Construction workers swarmed over half-built structures like ants over a sugar trail. Autonomous drones and vehicles cleared the last remnants of rubble, their sleek forms moving with mechanical precision. Human workers followed in their wake, meticulously setting to work on the foundation, redoing electrical systems and plumbing as they went.
Not only redoing, but improving things. Cairo would be unrecognizable, but a truly modern city, truly his. Although it was a bit annoying that his entire team and his AI had teamed up and vetoed him renaming the city to something more… Hammer.
He could have forced the issue, but if he did that for every minor thing, he'd eventually erode their loyalty, so best to leave it be.
Well, at least he still had Hammerhaven, so it wasn't too bad…
From where he stood, Justin could see entire blocks of the floating city transforming. Buildings sprouted from the ground in a matter of hours, the shattered remnants of old Cairo giving way to gleaming new structures, each more advanced than the last. It was the future he had promised, a future built not just on ambition but on raw, untapped potential. And yet, even as he watched his city being rebuilt at an astonishing pace, Justin's mind was elsewhere.
He could feel it if he tried - the prayers. It was always there, humming softly in the back of his consciousness. A constant buzz of millions of voices, some quiet, others desperate, calling out to him for everything from salvation to trivial desires. Hundreds of millions of prayers, maybe more. He wasn't even sure how he knew that; it was just instinctual now. Sorting through them, picking out one voice among the masses, was nearly impossible unless it was someone he knew. Those he had personal connections with had a unique resonance - an echo, of sorts - one that he could pick out almost immediately.
Hela hadn't been much help in understanding this new facet of his divinity. She had explained that Asgardians hadn't relied on prayer in the way other gods might for a very long time. Their domains and godlike status had been set millennia ago, passed down hereditarily from parent to child. Lack of prayers didn't weaken them; they existed as gods purely by virtue of their lineage and mythos, all of it already set in stone to some extent.
Thousands upon thousands of years ago, the first Kings and Queens of Asgard, had become gods in truth, and spread it amongst their people to an extent. Back then prayers had assisted, but eventually, after a millenia, the divinity had settled. Now, even if no one believed in Asgard ever again, they would never grow weaker from that lack of faith.
That explained why Odin and the likes of Thor and Tyr, were so powerful, coming from the original lines of true gods, remaining as such, while the average Asgardian wasn't much more than an enhanced human by comparison, even if they still held that spark of divinity that had originally been spread.
For Justin, it would be different he assumed, at least for now. He still needed the prayers, though they were more of a tool than a crutch. In time, he wouldn't require them either. But for now, they had an undeniable strengthening effect. He knew that if people began praying to the Asgardians again in large enough numbers, they too would grow stronger, though none of them had ever truly needed it.
The effect still existed for them, it just couldn't bring them below their baseline. But it could heighten them. Another reason, Hela had explained, why her wish for conquest only made sense. In her belief, they needed worshippers again, and the best way to achieve that was by the sword. Then Asgardians would rule the universe.
That last part he'd intuited from what she was saying, she hadn't actually said that part out loud, correctly assuming this was one of the reasons Justin was loath to risk empowering her in any way.
His eyes scanned over the city, taking in the steady pulse of progress, the hum of industry. His city. He could feel his own power radiating outward, suffusing everything beneath him. It was why he was here - standing on this wall, lost in thought. It was a feeling unlike anything he had ever known, and it gnawed at the edges of his consciousness, reminding him of what he had become.
Yesterday, he had witnessed something that still took his breath away. A stretch of one of Cairo's busiest streets had been leveled, demolished down to its very foundation. But within hours, the entire area had been rebuilt. Buildings had risen, the electrical grid, sewer, and plumbing systems had been replaced, all in a single day. One day.
His divinity spread out over the city, his domain… One day!
Granted, he had an army of drones, autonomous vehicles, and highly skilled workers to assist, but even by his standards, the speed of the rebuilding was staggering. The power he now commanded - whether it was Progress, Innovation, Humanity, or Civilization, or some combination of all of them - was manifesting in ways he hadn't anticipated. And it thrilled him.
His hands gripped the wall tightly as he contemplated the implications. If he could accomplish this with just one city, what would happen when the entire planet was under his control? Would his domains spread, suffusing every corner of the globe with his influence? Would the world transform as rapidly as Cairo had?
Justin had initially scoffed at some of his domains, thinking they were superfluous. Power and Might were all well and good, but Civilization? And Progress? He had considered them unnecessary additions - until now. Now, he could see the true extent of what he had inherited. The potential was limitless, and it made him dangerous in ways he hadn't fully appreciated before.
He felt a small grin tugging at the corners of his lips. The world had no idea what was coming.
No… The universe had no idea how powerful this planet was about to become under his aegis. Thanos would come one day, and break himself on Fortress Earth…
As he stood there, absorbed in his thoughts, he became aware of a familiar presence approaching. He could sense Yelena long before she made it up the wall, her energy familiar and teasing. She was doing it again - praying to him for the most ridiculous things, just to catch his attention. It was a game of hers lately, and while it should have annoyed him, it only served to make him smirk in amusement.
When Yelena finally reached him, dressed in a sinfully tight outfit that was no doubt intended to provoke, Justin didn't turn to face her immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the city below, though his eyes flicked sideways to catch her exaggerated pout.
"No," He said dryly, "I'm not going to give you Russia." A familiar argument the last few days, when word domination became less of a future plan, and more of a goal within sight.
Yelena leaned against the wall beside him, her expression exaggerated in mock disappointment. "Not even if I do that thing you like?" She teased, her voice lilting as she gave him an exaggerated puppy-dog look.
Justin snorted, turning to face her fully with a look of bemusement. "Literally a sex god here. I can feel that you enjoy it even more than I do." His tone was sardonic, though there was an undercurrent of humor there.
It wasn't a domain he had particularly wanted, as the gods who held such things seemed gods of excess and vices more than anything, something he would not want to fall into, but it had become a part of him regardless. Rumors about his… Proclivities… Had circulated long enough for it to set apparently, helped along by Yelena and Helen Cho spreading gossip - and the infamous sex tape that had gone viral, it had been almost inevitable. The mythos of Justin Hammer had grown, and with it, his domains.
Perhaps the large number of domains came down to the fact that several billion people in different parts of the world all had wildly different ideas about him…
Being a god of Sex and Lust should have been fantastic, and in some ways, it certainly was. He had tested that aspect of his divinity quite thoroughly. But it wasn't without its drawbacks. Just like the constant stream of prayers, he could now sense whenever anyone within a wide radius engaged in any form of sexual activity - that included masturbation. It was a sensory overload he was still working to push into the background, just like the prayers.
He really didn't need to know that much about the people around him. Especially not Cho. Who apparently was worse, by herself, then she was with a partner.
Some things he can't unsee.
Yelena's smirk widened as she joined him at the wall, her arms crossed in a display of casual confidence. "Can you feel my devotion then, my god?" She teased, her tone playful, though the glint in her eyes was all mischief.
Justin flicked her on the nose, making her scrunch up her face in an adorably exaggerated reaction. "None of that," He said, his tone firm but not unkind. "My name, or sir, will suffice."
"Yes, sir," Yelena responded smartly, though the smirk didn't leave her lips. She had always enjoyed calling him 'sir' and he knew it.
"You're taking after Domino too much," He warned lightly, his lips quirking in amusement. His ascension to godhood had put his inner circle into something of a frenzy. They had all tried, in their own ways, to probe, test, and see if he had changed.
Especially Domino. That woman had practically made it her mission to figure out if he was any different now, constantly pushing at the boundaries to see where they were.
He was fairly certain he hadn't changed much - at least not yet. And that made sense. His ascension had been built on the foundations of who he already was, on the beliefs and tendencies he already possessed even if seen by billions of others. His divinity had merely amplified those aspects of him. He was still Justin Hammer, just more.
And well… What was better than Justin Hammer? More of Justin Hammer of course.
"I assume, since you're here, she's ready to begin?" He asked, his thoughts shifting back to the task at hand. He turned away from the city and focused fully on Yelena now, his expression sharpening.
Yelena nodded, her face losing some of its playful edge as she grew serious. "She's ready. We've gone through the interrogation fully, concluding with a session from Domino."
Justin hummed softly, considering the information. Domino's involvement was something he'd personally requested - her methods, while unorthodox, were often highly effective due to her luck. He turned, stepping away from the wall as he prepared to face what was next. "Let's see what's in Sinister's head then, shall we? Lead me to Miss Frost."
Yelena nodded again, and together, they walked away from the wall, leaving the city behind as they descended into the heart of the compound.
A few minutes later, Cairo.
Justin and Yelena made their way down the hallways of his compound, heading toward the reinforced holding cells where Nathaniel Essex - better known as Sinister - was waiting, having been moved here from Hammerhaven.
Waiting for them outside Sinister's holding cell was Emma Frost, who was attempting to maintain her usual aura of regal poise despite the strain of the past few days. It wasn't easy to make someone like Emma Frost look out of sorts, but the recent days of interrogation - however soft they had been - had taken their toll. Her clothes were still impeccable, a tailored white outfit that hugged her figure, but her once-lustrous hair lacked its usual shine, and there was a slight tightness around her eyes. Small imperfections, but enough for Justin to notice.
Emma Frost had come to him with a deal, and Justin had been all too happy to accept. Frost Industries was now officially a subsidiary of Hammer Industries. While her weapons division had proven to be competent - her power armor models were a step up from the goblin armors at least - they still fell short of what Justin and Tony Stark could produce.
There had been no competition there. But Frost Industries wasn't valuable to him for its weapons - it was its grip on the public transportation sector across Europe, the Balkans, and even parts of the Middle East that made it worth folding into his empire. It gave Justin the foothold he needed to dominate yet another industry on a global scale.
Now, she stood before him, trying to keep that familiar cold air of superiority intact. How cute.
At least her information on the Hellfire club that she had previously held back was useful. He'd have to do something there soon… Shaw was kept happy and fat so far, by the many business deals he kept making with Hellfire club members, but it wouldn't last forever. And Shaw more than anyone, was able to coax Selene Gallio to act.
If he didn't have two situations to deal with already, he would have moved on that one. But for now, the Hellfire Club would have to sit.
"Emma, you look radiant as always," Justin said with a pleasant smile, his voice dripping with just the right amount of smugness to let her know he wasn't fooled by her attempts to appear unruffled.
Emma didn't return the smile. Instead, she sniffed lightly, turning her head away from him in a haughty display of indifference. But Justin didn't miss the signs. Her hair wasn't as perfectly coiffed, and there was a slight dullness to her skin. She was trying to keep up appearances, but she hadn't had time nor access to put herself back to her best yet.
He clicked his tongue in mock disappointment as he stepped closer, his eyes never leaving her face. Without warning, he let his aura of domination unfurl, not with any real intent but as a reminder of the power he held. The effect was immediate - Emma stiffened, her body freezing as if she had been caught in the gaze of a predator. She was someone who prided herself on control, and Justin could see the tension rippling through her as he moved even closer, her control escaping her in front of a true power.
Reaching out, he gently placed his hand on her chin, turning her face to look directly at him. "Now, that's not how we respond to the boss, is it?" His voice remained pleasant, but there was an unmistakable edge beneath the words, a hint of a threat wrapped in velvet.
For a moment, Emma's expression flickered. She looked like she was struggling with something, perhaps her pride, before she finally lowered her head slightly, bowing in submission. "…Nice to see you as well, sir," She managed to get out, her voice tight with barely concealed resentment.
"Now was that so hard?" Justin murmured, releasing her chin and pulling back. The pressure of his aura vanished as quickly as it had come. "You came to me for a reason, Emma - my power. Don't start getting shy about your position now when you're finally on the ground floor of a global power."
Emma remained silent for a moment, her body language still rigid, but when she looked back up at him, the resentment in her eyes had faded somewhat. There was still some defiance there, of course, but not nearly as much as he might have expected. She had chosen this, after all - chosen to align herself with him without needing any significant prompting. It was that ambition, that cold, calculated desire for power, that had made her approach him in the first place.
"I am here to be useful, sir," She said after a long pause, her voice more composed now.
Justin hummed in response, eyeing her with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction. He could work with this.
"Sir, Sinister is prepped and ready," Yelena said from behind him, her voice a sharp reminder of the task at hand. Her eyes flicked to Emma with a superior glance, clearly unimpressed by the White Queen of the Hellfire Club.
Justin raised a hand, stopping her. "I want to try something first," He said, his tone taking on a curious edge. He turned to Emma, his eyes gleaming with something close to challenge. "Try to break into my mind." With a thought, he set his implant on passive, removing the normal obstacle.
Yelena's head snapped toward him, her expression immediately hardening into one of disapproval. "You're joking, right?" Her voice was sharp with incredulity, though she made no move to stop him, her hand hovering over her weapons just in case.
But Justin wasn't joking. His newfound godhood had left him curious, wondering if someone with Emma's level of telepathic power could even scratch the surface of his mind now. He had developed faster regeneration, stronger mental defenses, and his control over his own abilities had only grown. Even if she did manage to slip through, his powers would protect him from any lasting damage.
If she was stupid enough to try anything, which he doubted.
Emma, for her part, looked visibly uncomfortable with the request. Her eyes flicked to Yelena, then back to Justin, before she swallowed visibly, her poise slipping just slightly. "I'd… Prefer not to," She said, her voice chilly and still carrying that regal edge, but it didn't fully mask her apprehension. She was used to being the one in control, the one who could assert her dominance through sheer willpower and mental prowess. Now, she stood before someone who might be beyond her reach, and that uncertainty was clearly unsettling.
She was also obviously worried about any punishment should she succeed and anything happened. Yelena was hardly making it difficult to see that she'd kill her for one wrong move.
Justin's smile didn't falter. "It's an order," He said, his tone mild but the authority behind it unmistakable.
For a moment, Emma's expression flickered again. She looked like she would rather be anywhere else in the world, but after a long, tense pause, she nodded reluctantly, her gaze focusing on his. The tension between them crackled as she concentrated, her eyes narrowing as she attempted to penetrate his mind.
For the first minute, nothing happened. Then, without warning, Emma winced, a hand coming up to rest on her forehead. She looked away, her eyes momentarily closing as if in pain. "I can't," She admitted, her voice strained. "It's like… There's a chasm between us. One I can't cross."
Justin's implant buzzed back to life as he turned it on with a thought. Nail's voice came through almost immediately, whispering that based on everything known about Emma Frost - her powers, her mannerisms, vocal tone, facial tics - she was telling the truth.
Pleased with the result, Justin smiled. "After you then, my lady," He said, his voice cheerful as he gestured toward Sinister's cell.
Emma composed herself once more, straightening her posture and smoothing her expression as she led the way into the holding cell. Inside, the room was built state-of-the-art, every inch of it designed to hold anything - and anyone. Sinister was strapped down in the center of the room, his body locked into position by a complex array of restraints. His eyes were wide, his face contorted in pain as the specialized version of Extremis coursed through him, intensifying his suffering.
He could do nothing but blink and scream.
Emma ignored the screaming entirely, her heels clicking sharply on the floor as she approached him. She placed a single fingertip on his forehead, her focus intense as she began to probe his mind.
"The pain is not making this easier," She commented coolly, her voice cutting through Sinister's shrieks.
Justin shrugged, leaning casually against the wall, his eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction. "Can't turn it off," He said with a nonchalant tone, though the smirk tugging at his lips made it clear he wasn't in any hurry to ease Sinister's suffering.
He should consider himself lucky that Justin hadn't begun to get creative yet. He'd lost him Hope…
Sinister would live for a very long time… He might even outlive every other human being out there, all of it in immense pain.
Emma shot him a glance over her shoulder, her expression one of mild annoyance. "Can't or won't?"
Justin's smile widened, but he didn't bother answering. The question wasn't worth responding to.
Emma grumbled something under her breath, something that didn't sound quite as ladylike as her usual demeanor, before turning her attention fully back to Sinister. "He has defenses, it seems," She murmured, her brow furrowing in concentration. "But the pain has eroded them. I can get through, even if his muddled thoughts will make it take longer to parse anything useful."
And so, the secrets locked inside Nathaniel Essex's twisted mind began to unravel.
To Justin's pleasure. It seemed it was a process that was quite painful.
Or perhaps Emma was fishing for brownie points.
Either way, he was very pleased.
Later that night, Cairo.
Justin leaned back in his chair, the soft hum of Cairo's war room surrounding him. The dark, sleek table in front of him gleamed under the recessed lighting, and the walls were alive with large holographic displays flashing status reports from around the globe.
Yelena sat at his side, calm and composed, though the slight narrowing of her eyes betrayed her frustration at the day's developments. Emma Frost, however, was anything but calm. She sat stiffly across from Justin, clearly doing her best to project her usual icy composure. Still, her fingers twitched occasionally against her immaculate white outfit, and she kept stealing cautious glances at the surrounding screens. The subtle tension in her posture revealed her uncertainty, and it was clear she was carefully walking a line, unsure of how far she could push in her new position.
Justin tapped his fingers against the edge of the table, a small smirk playing on his lips as he observed Emma. Her discomfort amused him, and he had no plans to alleviate it. It was good for her to know exactly where she stood - especially after everything she'd pulled with Frost Industries and her little games with him. Folding her company into Hammer Industries had been a strategic win, but Emma herself was still untested in this new role, and he liked watching her squirm.
He tapped the desk a final time and straightened, the smirk fading from his face. It was time to get to business.
Storm and Bucky were both leading his assets in the field - Storm in Africa, overseeing the protection of his resources there, while Bucky and Kaecilius managed the situation in the States. Electro, newly recovered and assisting again after Emma had unlocked his mind, was with Bucky's group. It turned out that Electro's mental block wasn't the result of an Apocalypse resurgence, as they'd feared. Emma had unlocked his mind with scorn in her voice, noting that there was no way Xavier hadn't noticed the block when it first happened, considering he had been on-site.
Apocalypse had simply locked Electro inside his own mind.
Justin hadn't been surprised by that revelation. It had only reaffirmed his belief that Xavier, like Magneto, was an old man clinging to power. Magneto was already rotting in one of his cells, and Xavier, while still technically free, was essentially inconsequential now. His team was falling apart, his public reputation shredded after recent revelations. Justin had no immediate plans to deal with Xavier, but it was something he kept in the back of his mind. The professor was less trustworthy than even Justin had originally believed.
Magneto would only live long enough for Maya and Helen to figure out how to transfer his powers… Then he too would pay for having had a hand in the fight that had taken Hope in the end.
The large screen in front of Justin flickered to life as Sunil Bakshi appeared, his face sharp and serious. Doctor Octavius followed shortly after, his mechanical arms whirring faintly in the background as he adjusted something off-screen - thankfully properly built ones this time... Vanko was deployed with the H.A.M.M.E.R team, and Forge was occupied with engineering things for the Moon assault, so Octavius was the one reporting on the current state of the Iron Legion.
Justin steepled his fingers, his eyes narrowing as he regarded the two men on the screen. "Make it quick, gentlemen," He said, his voice clipped. "I can't afford to spend too much time on the Mandarin. He's the lesser threat right now."
The cold truth hung in the air. It would cost him - both in public perception and lives - to not be able to stop all the attacks that would come. But Justin couldn't afford to let the Sentinel program run its course on the Moon. It was too dangerous to humanity.
The Mandarin was an annoyance, a painful one, like a swarm of mosquitos giving him a thousand little pricks slowly, one by one.
The Sentinel program had the possibility of becoming an extinction event, especially with Skrulls in charge of it, looking to take over the planet for their race. The Sentinels, if the program was completed before he could stop it, would be a force that would cost him a thousand times more than the Mandarin.
The choice was easy in the end with such calculations.
Sunil was the first to speak, his tone as efficient as always. "Sir, Nail has managed to intercept and prevent eleven sabotage attempts so far. However, we've missed six bombings in locations that were less well-covered. These incidents took place in low-priority nations - Peru, Zimbabwe, etc - but the casualties are still significant."
Justin grimaced, resting his chin on his tented hands. "Nail, how are they avoiding you? And what can we do to fix it?" Not that much of the answer was likely anything they could do at the moment…
Nail's holographic avatar materialized near the table, her presence causing Emma to flinch slightly. It was obvious Emma was still uncomfortable with Justin's global AI, having not known beforehand, but she wisely kept her mouth shut, though her eyes betrayed her unease.
"Sir," Nail began, her voice calm and precise, "In well-developed countries, we've been able to catch the Mandarin's operatives in the act. The use of their so-called 'ninja' has been identified, but there simply isn't enough surveillance infrastructure in less-developed nations to cover every possible target. The lack of CCTV and satellite coverage in these areas creates blind spots."
Justin grunted in reluctant agreement. The 'uplift' of these nations was still far from complete. It would take years to bring countries like Zimbabwe up to par with the surveillance and infrastructure of America or Europe. The Mandarin's operatives, those damned ninjas, also managed to avoid using any technology that would make them easier to track, further complicating matters.
He cast a sideways glance at Yelena. "Your Black Widows having any luck?"
Yelena's expression darkened. She hated failure. "They're too spread out," She admitted, not bothering to hide her frustration. "By the time they receive the warnings, they can't respond fast enough. We've already lost three agents."
The weight of that loss settled over the room for a moment before Emma spoke up, her voice calculating and calm. "If you can capture someone from their organization, I can work them over," She suggested, her eyes glinting with the possibility of getting her hands on one of the Mandarin's operatives.
Sunil immediately nodded but looked doubtful. "They commit suicide at the slightest sign of any risk of capture," He explained grimly. "It's unlikely we'll be able to get our hands on one alive."
Justin rubbed the bridge of his nose, irritation spiking. "Enough of this, then. We continue to upgrade our security. Spread Nail's awareness wherever possible and defend ourselves as best we can. As frustrating as it is, we can lose a hundred factories and not technically lose anything that sets us back." His tone turned sharp. "Public perception is another issue. Nail, steer the media as best you can, control social media, remove as much bad news as possible."
Nail nodded, her digital form flickering in acknowledgment. "Yes, sir. I will prioritize shifting narratives and ensuring minimal public fallout."
Justin turned his attention back to Sunil. "China's invasion of Taiwan and India - any other nations in Asia following suit?"
It was a clever move by the Mandarin. The chaos was tying up a vast amount of Justin's resources and time. With the man's grip over much of Asia, China wasn't the only concern. He could force a conflict elsewhere too.
It would cost him, but the man was obviously willing to risk losing a few countries to take Justin down, safe in his immortality to return to power eventually for all he'd lost.
Doctor Octavius cleared his throat before speaking. "The Iron Legion has successfully blunted the Chinese advance into India. We've also assisted U.S. naval forces in establishing air superiority over Chinese waters near Taiwan as the U.S. prepares for its liberation of Taiwan, though that's still likely a month away at best with the Americans as they are.." He tapped at a tablet off-screen before continuing. "American soldiers are also assisting South Korea as North Korean forces have crossed the DMZ with Chinese support. Japan has remained quiet, but there are rumblings in Indonesia, and saber-rattling is escalating across the region."
"We can only assist and hold for now," Justin said, his tone cold and dismissive. "Let the U.S. handle what they do best - well, as best as they can." He shook his head, a sardonic look on his face, the US for all its vaunted military didn't exactly have that great of a record for actually solving any problems.
Emma, who had remained silent until now, raised an immaculate eyebrow. "Thousands will die," She said simply, as if testing him.
Justin's gaze flicked to her, his expression hard. "And?"
People tended to forget he was no hero. What did a few thousand or even hundreds of thousands of lives matter in the great calculus of things? Justin would bring the survivors utopia, that's what mattered.
HYDRA was right about one thing. Humans didn't desire freedom, they were afraid of it - their real desire was safety, security, letting someone else make the decisions.
Emma's lips curved into a faint smirk. Yelena rolled her eyes at the other woman's attempt to test him. Emma's smirk faded slightly as Justin's cold demeanor didn't waver. Yelena, sitting next to him, gave Emma a small shake of her head, as if to say - you really don't know him yet, do you?
Doctor Octavius, oblivious to the tension between the women, cleared his throat. "Sir, the Iron Legion is stretched thin across Asia. If any more countries erupt into conflict, we'll struggle to cover all fronts. The U.S. is prioritizing Taiwan, but if the entire region collapses into chaos…"
Justin waved his hand dismissively. "If Asia erupts in flames, it erupts. We can't be everywhere at once. We're not gods." He paused, allowing a small smirk to return. "Well, most of us aren't." He threw a glance at Yelena, who hid her smile. Emma, however, simply raised an eyebrow in silent acknowledgment of his newfound divinity.
Doctor Octavius shifted uneasily, continuing his report. "Riots have broken out in several Chinese cities, but the government is suppressing them with brutal efficiency. There's speculation that the Chinese leadership may be compromised, possibly Skrull involvement, due to the nature of the attacks."
"Well, that will only help the narrative, I suppose." Justin murmured, "And what of the US, I know they're holding meetings worried about 'my meteoric rise'." He said with some amusement. "Nail, anything else on why the Americans are poised to drag their feet?"
Nail's hologram appeared again, answering him. "Sir, there are rumblings of impeachment proceedings against President Ellis in Congress. American support for our efforts may wane if their government becomes consumed with internal conflict, and it appears it's this conflict which is delaying matters."
Justin let out a short, mirthless laugh. "Impeachment, huh? For what, exactly?"
Nail tilted her head, her holographic eyes scanning through data. "The allegations center around Ellis' connections to you, sir, and the fact that he permitted the use of the Iron Legion without congressional approval."
Of course he'd done no such thing. Justin hadn't bothered getting permission… Oh well. Ellis could handle it on his own, or not… Chaos in this helped him, even as it also gave him some headaches in the short term due to the US not being as quick as usual to jump into the conflict.
Emma cut in smoothly, her gaze sharpening. "They can't touch you directly, so they're going after your perceived puppet. It's politics as usual."
Sunil leaned forward on the screen, his expression carefully neutral. "Do you want us to intervene, sir? Push back?"
Justin shook his head, waving the suggestion away. "Let it play out. If they want to tear their own government apart while we're busy, all the better. Chaos has its uses, after all." He glanced at Yelena, who nodded in agreement. "Let them flounder. We'll capitalize on it later."
Yelena cocked her head slightly, curious. "Won't that set back U.S. military efforts?"
Justin shrugged. "Possibly. But more likely, it'll just be another example of their incompetence and indecision. The longer they waffle, the better we look in comparison when we start cleaning up their messes. People will see the truth in time."
Emma studied him carefully, her icy exterior cracking just a bit as she realized the depth of his long-term strategy. The more the governments of the world failed - the sooner Hammer Industries could step in and take over.
Doctor Octavius, his arms whirring behind him, shifted his focus. "Sir, if we pull too much of the Iron Legion to manage the chaos in Asia, it will leave other regions vulnerable, including our upcoming project." He reminded him.
Justin steepled his fingers again, his gaze intent. "Which brings us to the Moon."
Emma blinked in surprise, confusion finally crossing her carefully controlled expression. "The Moon?" She asked, trying to regain her composure.
Yelena smirked, her amusement clear. "Oh, Emma, you didn't know? Aliens are building an army of robots called Sentinels on the Moon - their goal, to wipe out humanity."
Emma's perfect posture faltered for the first time, her eyes widening slightly. "What!?"
Justin chuckled darkly, enjoying the shock on her face. "Welcome to the big leagues, Emma. The world you knew is a small slice of a much bigger, much more dangerous universe. The Skrulls… They've been playing with Earth, and now we're getting involved to put a stop to it finally. The Sentinel program on the Moon is their latest project - designed to wipe us out."
Emma's expression hardened as she processed the information. She was no stranger to large-scale threats, but the idea of alien forces building a weapon of that magnitude unsettled even her. "And I assume we're planning to stop it soon?" She clarified, stressing the word soon.
"Of course," Justin replied smoothly, leaning back in his chair. "The question is how to best approach it. We've made great strides in developing countermeasures, but it's a delicate situation. We can't exactly announce to the world that we're about to go to war with aliens."
What if they failed the first strike? It would be humiliating. Better to wait to announce it after they've won.
So they could tell the world, while you squabbled, we ended an extinction event. Hammer industries is your only way forward. Every instance of competence would make the eventual takeover smoother.
Justin turned to Doctor Octavius. "What's the status on our Moon mission?"
Doctor Octavius glanced at his tablet again. "Preparations are nearly complete. Vanko has finalized the prototype armor for extraterrestrial deployment, and we're ready to begin assembling the team. However, the Sentinel bases on the Moon are vast according to the recent Intel from Sinister, and we don't have a complete picture of their strength. It will be a difficult battle."
"Nothing worth doing is easy, Doc," Justin said with a smirk. "We'll have to make do with what we have. Speed is key - before the Sentinels become fully operational."
Worst case, there was the power stone, but that was not ideal. Blowing up the Moon hardly won him any points, not to mention the other issues with such a thing.
Emma, having regained her composure, leaned forward slightly, her sharp gaze locked on Justin. "And what happens if we fail?"
Justin frowned at her. "We won't fail. That's not an option. If we lose to the Sentinels, we lose everything."
Yelena leaned back in her chair, her confidence radiating. "Then we better make sure the Moon becomes ours."
Justin's eyes gleamed with determination. "We will. The Sentinels are just one more obstacle in our way, and we've dealt with worse. Once we take control of the Moon, Earth's space will be secure within a year."
The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of their mission hanging in the air. They were on the brink of something monumental. The Mandarin's chaos on Earth was nothing compared to the threat of the Sentinels lurking on the Moon.
Justin stood, his hands planted firmly on the table. "We move forward. Finalize the team for the Moon operation. Everyone else, keep the Mandarin in check as best as you can while we'll be gone. We can't afford any distractions. Understood?"
The group nodded, their focus unwavering.
Justin glanced one last time at Emma, who still looked unsure of her place, but the gleam in her eyes said she liked what she saw. "Welcome to the real game, Emma."
She held his gaze, her expression sharp and resolute. "I'm ready."
The meeting ended, but the sense of impending action lingered. The war on Earth was just the beginning. The battle for the Moon - and the fate of humanity - was next.
And Justin was ready for whatever came next.
This was his planet!
The next day, early morning, India.
Justin stepped through the shimmering portal, the landscape of the border between China and India unfolding before him. The air was thick with the acrid stench of artillery fire and gunfire, smoke lingering over the battlefield.
The terrain was littered with remnants of war - abandoned tanks, craters from artillery shells, and debris scattered across the ground. But the most prominent feature, unmistakable even from a distance, was the mountain of bodies, stacked haphazardly in a grotesque display of carnage. Atop this grisly throne lounged Hela, the Goddess of Death, looking entirely at ease.
Is this how I'm going to find her every time? He thought, knowing she had a use, but disliking how much of a blunt tool she was. For as much as the idea of wielding a hammer, as a Hammer was - he preferred to utilize more multi-purpose tools, instead of a single solution one.
He walked closer, inspecting her as he did.
Her black armor glistened in the dim light of an early morning, the sun barely poking over the horizon, and her dark, blood-streaked hair hung loose over her shoulders. She sat with one leg draped over the edge of the macabre pile, idly tracing a finger across the edge of her necrosword as if it were the most casual of pastimes.
Justin walked toward her slowly, his face impassive, his boots crunching over the gravel and debris beneath him. The bodies, the destruction - it was all irrelevant to him. His focus was on Hela, and the task at hand. He came to a stop just at the base of the pile, looking up at the goddess as she glanced down at him with an amused smile.
"Hela," He greeted her with a small nod, his voice cutting through the stillness.
Hela stretched languidly, as if she had just woken from a peaceful nap. "You send me to the nicest places, Justin," She purred, sounding pleased. Relaxed.
Like she'd just went for a nice bath. Not a slaughter.
Justin's expression remained neutral. "When you can only do one thing..." He pointed out dryly, letting the implication hang in the air. What else was he supposed to do with her, after all?
Hela pouted playfully, pretending to be offended by his words. "Oh, come now. I can do many things. You just prefer to keep me in my natural element." She shifted slightly on the pile, the sound of bodies shifting beneath her a grisly reminder of her work.
Before Justin could respond, Hela's head cocked to the side, her sharp ears picking up something in the distance. Her eyes gleamed with predatory delight as she crafted a massive necrosword from thin air. With a quick flick of her wrist, she hurled it skyward, and seconds later, there was a brilliant explosion in the sky, far off in the distance. Justin, with his heightened senses, barely caught the explosion with a flicker of energy dissipating.
"They keep trying to bomb me," Hela said with a bored tone, inspecting her nails as if the effort had been beneath her. "Silly mortals. You don't learn lessons very easily, do you?"
"To be fair," Justin replied, his tone dry, "Most militaries aren't used to facing someone who can just look at missiles and fighter jets and then say - No."
Hela chuckled darkly, her lips curving into a sinister grin. "Mortals and their toys," She mused, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "They never quite grasp the futility of it all."
Justin's eyes remained steady on her, not giving her the satisfaction of amusement. He knew Hela loved the theatrics, loved to play her role to the hilt, but there was work to be done. "Are you ready to be useful again? Or do you plan to lounge around here all day?"
Hela's eyes lit up with excitement, her bloodthirsty grin widening. "You're here to finally let me off the leash, aren't you?" She leaned forward slightly, her eyes glinting with malevolent anticipation. "These Chinese... They'd bow to me if they lost a hundred million or two of their citizens."
Justin raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "I already forced the world to put their nukes away. I'm not about to let you enact your own version of Armageddon." He rolled his eyes at her exaggerated pout. "There's plenty of death for you yet. We're going after the Skrulls next."
Hela's pout deepened as she crossed her arms. "The Skrulls?" She scoffed, clearly unimpressed. "Those shapeshifting pests. You expect me to get excited about fighting them? Where's the fun in that?"
"They'll have giant robots designed to exterminate humanity," Justin offered, his voice still carrying that note of dry detachment.
Hela's response was a dismissive wave of her hand. "Robots, you say? Killing machines without souls, without fear?" She sighed dramatically, flipping her hair. "Where's the joy in that? No screams, no terror. Just cold metal falling to pieces. You really are depriving me, Justin." She gave him an exaggeratedly disappointed look. "And here I thought you, of all people, would understand my tastes. After all, with that domain of yours..." Her voice dropped to a suggestive purr as she gave him a teasing glance.
Justin's eyes narrowed. Without a word, he tapped into his domination domain, letting the weight of his power press down on Hela. It was a subtle yet overwhelming force, suffocating, bending reality to his will. Hela froze for a moment, feeling the weight of his authority wash over her. Her breath caught in her throat, and a slow, delighted grin spread across her face.
…Perhaps I've misstepped… Justin thought.
"Oh, that's more like it," She crooned, tilting her head slightly, exposing her neck in a gesture of fake submission. "Do it harder," She whispered, a gleam of something dangerous flickering in her eyes.
Justin released the pressure with a sigh, shaking his head. "Every day I wonder if you were worth the hassle of the payment we're going to receive," He muttered under his breath, still not entirely sure he had made the right decision in bringing her into the fold.
Hela giggled, her laughter low and dark. "Oh, darling, I'm worth every bit of trouble. You just don't see it yet." She hopped off the pile of bodies with a graceful leap, landing effortlessly beside him. "One day, you'll realize I'm right, and you'll set your sights on the stars, on conquest. You'll see." She gave him a wide, crazed grin, her eyes alight with ambition. "I know you will."
Justin ignored her ramblings, focusing on the task at hand. "Are you done playing now? We're preparing for the attack, and your experience in war could be... Useful. I could use your input." His tone was begrudging but practical.
Hela sauntered past him toward the still-open portal, her hips swaying as she shot him a sidelong glance. "Oh, sweet of you to admit you need me," She purred, delighted.
Justin let out another sigh, thankful he could no longer get headaches.
Was it too late to get a refund?
A day later, New York City.
The safehouse was a small, nondescript apartment tucked away in the quiet corners of New York, the kind of place no one would ever look for them. In the dimly lit living room, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, and Namor sat, watching the news broadcast on a large television.
On the screen, a grim-faced news anchor reported on the escalating situation across the globe, her voice calm but filled with an underlying current of urgency.
"We turn now to the worsening crisis in Asia," the anchor began, her face framed by a graphic showing the Chinese and Indian flags clashing. "In the last seventy-two hours, China has launched a full-scale offensive against the Indian border, overwhelming Indian defenses in the Himalayan region. Reports indicate thousands of casualties on both sides, with the Chinese military deploying overwhelming force, including mechanized infantry and air support, to secure the region."
The screen cut to shaky footage of artillery fire echoing through the mountain passes, the snow-capped peaks lit up by the explosions, as Indian soldiers scrambled to hold their position. The camera zoomed in on distant plumes of smoke rising from the valley below.
"In addition to the conflict with India," the anchor continued, "China has also overwhelmed Taiwan's defenses, leading to the island's military collapse in several key locations. Sources indicate that the Chinese navy is now establishing blockades around the island, preventing any outside assistance from reaching Taiwanese forces."
A map of the region appeared on the screen, showing the positions of Chinese and Taiwanese forces, red arrows showing the direction of the Chinese advance as the situation deteriorated by the hour.
The broadcast didn't stop there. "Meanwhile, in a coordinated move, North Korea, with suspected Chinese assistance, has launched a series of assaults across the demilitarized zone, striking against South Korea. Seoul has mobilized its full military force, but there are reports of overwhelming numbers coming from the north. American forces have already seen battle to defend their allies in South Korea."
Footage switched to South Korean soldiers, as well as Americans, rushing into action, tanks rumbling down highways, fighter jets streaking through the skies as sirens blared in the background.
The anchor's voice became grave, "The United States has issued a strong condemnation of China's actions, but with their forces already committed to aiding Taiwan and defending South Korea, there are growing concerns over the ability of international forces to respond to multiple flashpoints. The world holds its breath, wondering where this will all lead."
The broadcast switched to the sight of the Iron Legion, "Thankfully, Hammer industries were able to blunt the advance by Chinese forces into India, due to a new proje-"
Steve had seen enough. His jaw tightened, and with a look of disgust, he reached for the remote and shut off the television.
"People never learn," He muttered, the frustration in his voice evident. His blue eyes glared at the now-blank screen, as if daring it to challenge his disgust. Showcasing more examples of war and stupidity.
Natasha leaned back on the worn couch, her gaze still fixed on the TV screen, even though it was now dark. She had that look, the one where she was seeing more than the rest of them. The wheels were turning in her mind, and she wasn't just watching the news; she was analyzing it, connecting dots the others weren't even aware of.
"That's kind of our thing, Cap," She drawled in the end, a sarcastic edge to her voice. "Although this one could likely be laid at Hammer's feet, he's stirred the world up too much.."
Across the room, Namor, who had been pacing with a furious energy, paused. The King of Talokan had been in a constant state of agitation ever since he had been forced into a series of humiliating concessions by the U.S. government, and Hammer's influence had been central to that outcome. His black hair, slicked back in its usual fashion, as his whole body bristled with agitation, his muscular frame seemed coiled, ready to explode at the slightest provocation.
"Hammer is behind this?" Namor asked sharply, his tone filled with contempt. "We should stop it then. End this madness before it spreads further." Rebuild their reputation, was left unsaid, but easily picked up on by the spies.
Clint exchanged a look with Natasha, the two of them holding a silent conversation in a way only seasoned operatives could. It lasted a second before Clint shrugged and addressed Namor directly.
"Look, I'm not a fan of the guy either," Clint admitted, his voice calm but firm. "But we're laying low right now, remember? This -" He gestured to the television, " - this situation is the opposite of low."
Steve stood up suddenly, his presence commanding as ever, and walked toward the center of the room. His frustration boiled just beneath the surface, his fists clenching and unclenching as he spoke. "No, Clint's wrong. Namor's right." His voice was filled with conviction. "This is where we can prove we can still be trusted. We need to stop this war. All this chaos, all these invasions - it's Hammer's fault. His reckless technology. His Iron Legion, his disregard for people's will. He's thrown the world into chaos, and we're the ones who can put a stop to it."
Natasha's brow furrowed as she looked at Steve, the tone of his voice setting off alarms in her head. "Steve, that's not really -" She began, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand.
"We can stop this, Nat," Steve continued, his voice rising with conviction. "This is the right thing to do. Just like I fought the Germans, just like I fought HYDRA, we'll fight this invasion, and we'll stop Hammer's influence from spreading." He spread his hands out with a winning smile, "And just like then, they'll thank us for it!"
Natasha shared another look with Clint, both of them clearly unsettled by Steve's sudden fervor. This was risky. Too risky.
Namor, of course, was all too eager to seize the opportunity. "The Captain speaks truly!" He declared, stepping forward, his voice echoing with the authority of a king. "We can liberate this… Taiwan, from these invaders. Once we do, the world will know we are the ones they should turn to. They will recognize us as their saviors!"
Clint sighed, crossing his arms. "There's four of us," He said, his tone dry, but the tension in his body was clear. "We can't fight an army. Not China's, not North Korea's, and definitely not whatever Hammer's got up his sleeve."
Steve's shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of reality sinking in. "There must be a way…" He murmured, his voice trailing off as he ran a hand through his hair.
Natasha closed her eyes and muttered a curse under her breath. She had known things were bad, but now it felt like they were spiraling out of control faster than she could keep up. Just as she was about to speak, Namor lit up with a smug, triumphant smirk.
"We can use my soldiers," Namor announced, as if the idea were the most obvious thing in the world. "With my forces at the forefront, we will sweep through their ranks, rise up from the sea to liberate Taiwan, and claim the victory for ourselves. No one will dare question our strength."
Steve's face brightened almost immediately. "That's right," He said, his voice filled with renewed determination. "And no one can criticize us for protecting people's freedom from invaders. No one."
Natasha opened her mouth to protest that, but the words died on her lips. Instead, she sighed heavily, standing up from the couch. "Steve, we need to lay low right now," She said, trying to keep her voice level. "Going after China - one of the world's largest armies - is not laying low. It's the exact opposite of laying low, Clint was right on that."
Clint nodded in agreement, pushing himself up from the chair. "Namor, Steve - look, we need to think this through. We need to wait for the right moment, find the best spot to jump in. We can't just rush into this headfirst. Not after last time." His voice was strained, the memory of their last failed mission hanging in the air like a dark cloud.
But Steve and Namor weren't listening. They were standing shoulder to shoulder now, going over the logistics of an attack on Taiwan as if they were planning a simple raid, not a war. Namor's excitement was palpable, while Steve's sense of righteousness burned brightly in his eyes.
Clint and Natasha exchanged yet another look, both of them clearly frustrated. This is madness! They both thought.
"Every other side sucks," Clint muttered under his breath, glancing at the two men in front of them. "But this isn't the best position either." He admitted.
Natasha's face tightened, her mind racing through the possible outcomes of this reckless plan. "We're persona non grata. We can only hope this plan works out." She paused, her voice dropping into a more uncertain tone. "It's... Possible a win here could help us."
Clint grimaced. "If we win."
Natasha nodded, her gaze lingering on Namor, who was practically glowing with self-importance. "If we win," She muttered, more to herself than to Clint.
Deep down, she had a feeling that even if they succeeded in this crazy plan, the world wouldn't be any more grateful than they were now. Namor might relish the idea of a triumphant victory, but there was a reason they were laying low in the first place.
And dragging the people of Talokan into this mess might just make things worse.
Should she try to reach out? Maybe… Maybe Yelena could…
No. She clenched her fists at her sides, her resolve hardening. Calling Yelena was too much like admitting defeat. She was THE Black Widow, and she'd find a way to make this work.
Natasha stood up, rubbing her temples before addressing the room. "Boys, if we're doing this, we're doing it right. So listen up."
Steve and Namor turned toward her, still buzzing with energy, but there was a hint of acknowledgment in Steve's eyes. He respected her enough to know that if Natasha Romanoff had something to say, it was worth listening to. Namor, however, looked less enthused, but even he quieted down when Natasha raised a hand.
Clint, sitting back with his head in his hands, peeked through his fingers, groaning softly. "I guess we're really doing this, huh?" He muttered, his tone half resigned, half exasperated.
This could only end well, he thought.
Johannesburg, same time.
Storm stood above the smoking ruins of Johannesburg's once-thriving industrial complex built by Hammer industries, her eyes filled with fury as she took in the devastation. Flames roared beneath the thick, acrid smoke rising into the sky, and the chaos on the ground was immense. Rescue teams scrambled to save what they could, but the sheer scale of destruction left little hope. Bodies lay scattered, covered in makeshift tarps, while survivors, bloodied and dust-covered, wandered aimlessly, their faces frozen in shock.
Taking a deep breath, Storm called upon her power, raising her arms toward the heavens. The wind responded instantly, whipping around her, and the already darkened skies swirled violently. Her white hair floated in the air as if it had a life of its own. The air above began to shift, growing thick and humid as she summoned her element. Thunder rumbled overhead as she formed massive storm clouds, and soon, fat raindrops began to fall in torrents.
The downpour intensified with every passing second, rain cascading over the burning buildings below, sending up clouds of steam as it met the roaring flames. Storm concentrated, guiding the rain precisely where it was needed. She could feel the fire fighting her back, but she would win. She had to. For all the innocents caught in the middle of the Mandarin's reign of terror, for all the progress that was slipping away under a tide of blood and flames, she had to succeed.
"Tell me we got any of them!" She growled into her communicator, her voice strained with barely contained rage.
From his position in the sky beside her, Brock, piloting the Vulture armor, scanned the ground. His helmeted head swiveled back and forth, searching through the wreckage. His mechanical voice came through her earpiece, filled with disgust. "Suicide attack, Storm. They took themselves out. Nothing left to trace, no evidence to find. It's all gone."
Storm's fists clenched tightly at his words, and for a brief moment, she lost control. The winds howled around her as a burst of anger flared through her, the deluge intensifying to the point that even the firefighters had to step back. Realizing what she had done, she forced herself to calm, reining in her powers with a slow exhale. The winds lessened, the rain slowing to a more manageable torrent, just enough to continue smothering the flames.
"So many dead," She whispered, her voice barely audible over the storm she had created. Her heart broke as her gaze shifted back to the rows of bodies covered in tarps. "Africa was finally going somewhere, Rumlow... We were building a future. Hammer's work was bringing us hope. And now..." She trailed off, her voice thick with emotion as she swallowed hard.
Brock's voice crackled in her ear again. "Yeah, I know. It's hard to look at this and not feel like we've failed." There was a pause as his armor hovered beside her. "Suicide bombers are almost impossible to defend against. They erased all the evidence by their actions. We have nothing."
Storm clenched her fists, the rain shifting as her emotions warred within her. "We have too many targets to protect," She admitted, her voice low and pained. "Nail gave us the warning, but it wasn't enough. Not in time. Not to stop this." She looked down at the burning complex and then at the grieving families left behind, sobbing and clutching each other in disbelief. "We disarmed two bombs, but the rest... And then those trucks full of explosives." She shook her head, the frustration boiling over.
"We need to strike back," She muttered, her voice laced with venom. "We need to stop this before it happens again."
Brock agreed, his voice carrying a tone of helpless anger. "Yeah. If we knew where the bastard was hiding, I'd be the first to volunteer. But as it is..." He trailed off, letting the silence fill the air between them.
Storm knew what he was thinking, and she hated that he was right. "The Sentinels," She said, her tone bitter. "We can't leave that threat unchecked." She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on her shoulders. The lives lost today were nothing compared to the devastation the Sentinel program could cause if they didn't deal with it now. But it didn't make this any easier to accept.
"We should be here, Rumlow," She said softly. "Helping them. These are my people, dying because of that monster, and all we can do is..." She shook her head, unable to finish the sentence.
"All we can do is finish this fight as fast as we can," Brock replied, his voice quiet but firm. "Take care of the Sentinels. Then we come back, and we deal with the Mandarin."
Storm bit her lip, her frustration bubbling to the surface again. "This is the right call, isn't it?" She asked, though she already knew the answer. "It has to be. I just... I can't stand that it feels like we're abandoning them."
Brock didn't respond for a moment, and when he did, his voice was quieter. "Yeah. I get that. But this is bigger than us, bigger than Johannesburg, Africa or anywhere else that's gotten hit." His voice hardened. "We have to stop the Sentinels before they wipe us all out. And then we can make the Mandarin pay."
The rain continued to pour as Storm hovered above the wreckage, her heart heavy with grief and rage. She hated this. Hated the choices she had to make, the lives she couldn't save. But Rumlow was right. The Sentinel program was too great a threat to ignore. If they didn't stop it, the cost would be far higher than what they were seeing now.
"We have until Justin picks us up, correct?" She asked, her voice flat, the tears mixing with the rain streaming down her face.
"Yeah." Brock's reply was simple, but there was an understanding between them that went deeper than words.
Without another word, Storm descended slowly to the ground, landing near a group of first responders working desperately to pull survivors from the rubble. Her cape billowed behind her as the rain soaked her to the bone, but she didn't care. She couldn't leave without helping them, even if only for a little while.
"I will assist the emergency services," She said quietly, her voice carrying the weight of a promise. She was still a leader, a protector. And she wouldn't abandon these people in their hour of need.
Brock descended as well, landing beside her. His voice came through his helmet, but it was softer now, more human. "I know enough first aid. I'll lend a hand too."
Storm nodded, her face set with determination as she knelt beside a firefighter who was struggling to free a trapped civilian. She wasn't the hero she used to be, the one who believed that good always triumphed over evil. But she was something else now - something that the Mandarin and those who threatened her people would come to fear.
Because when they found him, the one responsible for all this death and destruction... When they finally tracked down the Mandarin...
She was going to show him the fury of Gaia.
Author's Note:
The Mandarin is not making people very happy…
So, a bit of a view as well on how some of Justin's domains are feeling like right now, the next chapter will have the Moon raid.
And the Avengers… Are going to do Avengers things. Steve, if anything is worse with having Namor by his side, the dude is also all for solving things by punching the problem harder.
It's already a miracle they've managed to keep Steve from just rushing off for Bucky…
And War is starting to pop up, we'll see where that goes.
Let me know what you think, bad, sucks? Good? Pineapple?
Cheers
JollyHippopotamus
Here we go, another chappie sponsored by the lovely lads and lasses of Patron.
The War has kicked off! And it's not even the most important thing to deal with, alas. Also this is not real, so don't take any RL stuff to anything war or nation-like bs that happens in this fic.
If only the Mandarin knew how unimportant he is, but he's trying really hard though, guys. A for effort.
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc.
Hope you enjoy.
November, 2009, India.
General Amarjit Singh paced back and forth in the command post, his normally composed demeanor shattered by the chaos outside. The small concrete bunker they were holed up in shook with every artillery blast, dust and plaster falling in thin streams from the ceiling, coating everything in a fine white powder. The sound of explosions and gunfire echoed through the air, mixed with the incessant crackle of the radios that surrounded him. His men, huddled over their stations, frantically relayed messages, shouting orders, and coordinating what little reinforcements they could muster.
"Where are my reports?!" General Singh roared, his voice barely cutting through the din. He slammed his fist on the table, scattering maps and notes. "I want an update on every single unit on the front line! Now!"
His staff scrambled, trying to organize the chaos into something resembling useful intelligence. Outside, the unmistakable sound of machine gun fire rattled on, accompanied by the deep, rhythmic booms of Chinese artillery. The general could hear the screams of mortar shells flying through the air, each one a reminder of the inevitable destruction raining down on their position.
In his other hand, General Singh clutched a satellite phone, his knuckles white from gripping it too hard. His voice was strained as he shouted into the receiver, the sound of desperation seeping into his usual air of command.
"Where is the support you promised me, Major Rao?!" He barked at the logistics officer back at headquarters, spitting the words as though each one burned on the way out. "We are being torn apart here! My line is being overrun! If we don't get reinforcements in the next hour, we'll be pushed back to the base of the mountains!"
On the other end of the line, Major Santosh Rao's voice crackled back, grim and apologetic. "Sir, we're doing the best we can, the Americans are already responding to the situation in Taiwan. They've acknowledged our call for assistance against this unwarranted aggression, but they don't have enough forces nearby to assist immediately. We're stretched thin with battles at every point of the border and beyond."
Somehow, the Chinese had managed to get Tens of thousands of men behind the lines, and together with the pounding of the Chinese Air Force against Indian military bases, they were preventing reinforcements from easily accessing the front. Singh knew all this, but he still had to try, for his soldiers. They were all dead if they didn't receive reinforcements now.
General Singh's face twisted into a mask of barely controlled fury at what was happening, his jaw clenching as he forced himself not to smash the phone against the wall. "Stretched thin?" He growled, his voice low and venomous. "The Chinese are throwing men away for every inch of ground, here! They're pouring over the pass like a damned flood! We can't hold like this!" His voice rose as another explosion rocked the building, sending more debris raining down onto the general's already dust-covered uniform.
"We're doing what we can, General," Major Rao replied, the weight of the situation heavy in his tone. "Reserves are being called up, and the nearest garrison is en route even through the bombing. You just have to hold for a little longer."
General Singh sank into his chair, defeated for a moment, the sounds of war pounding relentlessly outside. He looked over at his men, who were frantically working their own lines, shouting into headsets, calling for support, trying to coordinate an increasingly chaotic battlefield. They all looked as exhausted as he felt.
"We can't hold..." Singh muttered under his breath, though the phone caught it. "There's too many of them, for every soldier we kill, there's ten more flooding over our lines."
There was silence on the other end of the line for a brief moment before Major Rao spoke again, his voice thick with regret. "We weren't prepared for this, General. No one was. But do what you can. They won't get away with this. We will push them back."
Small comfort to all the dead, Singh thought bitterly.
The general let out a harsh, bitter laugh in the end. "Push them back?" His eyes were wild with frustration. "Just nuke the bastards. Let them feel what it means to cross India!"
The suggestion wasn't truly serious - more an expression of his exhaustion and frustration than anything else. But the desperation was real. How had it come to this? China was risking everything. Was it madness? A Skrull infiltration? None of it made any sense.
They had to know they couldn't win this! India and the international community would fight back! Even with the UN dead, no one would accept China conquering India.
"We can't," Major Rao's voice cut through his thoughts, hard and definitive. "No one can."
Singh frowned, his spine straightening, alarm bells ringing in his head. He barked into the phone, "What the hell do you mean, 'no one can'?"
On the other end, Major Rao paused, the sound of rustling papers filtering through the speaker. When he finally spoke again, his tone was far more subdued, almost disbelieving. "Justin Hammer sent a video to all world leaders right after the attack on Taiwan. He promised total annihilation to any nation that deployed nuclear weapons in the coming conflicts."
Singh scoffed loudly, momentarily forgetting the chaos outside. "Hammer? He's just a businessman, no matter how powerful! Sure, he can throw his weight around against some alien freaks, but does he really think he can make demands like that?"
That was patently absurd. There were always allowances made for big corporations, that's how capitalism worked nowadays, but did the man really think he could just make commands like that to the world? To world powers even?
The silence on the other end stretched out, making Singh feel the gravity of what had just been said. Finally, Major Rao responded, his voice weak, almost reluctant. "In the video, he showed a simulation... Of what he could do with that glowing stone he used against the invaders. If he's not bluffing... General, he could wipe out India or China at will, he's worse than a nuclear deterrent, on his own!"
General Singh gaped, momentarily speechless. He shook his head, refusing to believe it. "That's a bluff!" He shouted into the phone. "No man is that powerful!"
"Maybe," Major Rao conceded quietly, sounding like he didn't believe it. "But no one's willing to be the first to call it, not even China. Good luck, General. Just hold. Reinforcements are on the way. I've got other fronts to handle."
The line went dead, and for a moment, General Singh just sat there, the phone still clutched in his hand. He could hear the chaos around him - men shouting, artillery roaring, and the terrifying, ever-present hum of battle closing in - but his mind was elsewhere, racing through the implications of what he'd just learned.
Finally, he snapped back to the present, gesturing toward one of his aides. "How long until they break through?" He asked, his voice low, almost resigned.
The aide, a young officer with a pale face and wide, fearful eyes, looked up from his station. "Less than half an hour is likely, sir," He reported, his voice trembling slightly. "Maybe less if the Chinese Air Force returns to this front for another bombing run."
General Singh exhaled slowly, a grim smile forming on his face as he reached for the gun holstered at his side. "Men," He said, standing up and addressing the room, his voice regaining its steel. "It's been a pleasure commanding you. I won't order any of you to stand with me, but I'm getting out there, and I'm making the bastards pay with blood for every inch of Indian soil they take."
There was no hesitation. No one spoke, but the look on every face told him that they would follow him, no matter the odds. There was no chance of survival, but they would not go down without a fight. The general adjusted his helmet, feeling the weight of his decisions bear down on him as he left the bunker.
It made him proud that every man under his command followed him out. His thoughts went briefly to his wife and kids, as he lamented leaving them, not being able to see his kids grow up.
Just then, a strange sound filled the air - a distant whooshing sound, like something cutting through the sky. The men looked up instinctively, expecting another barrage of Chinese bombs or artillery to fall on them. But instead, they saw hundreds of black and silver shapes descending from the sky - hundreds of power armors flying in formation, blotting out the sun.
One of the armors broke from formation, landing in a textbook superhero stance in front of the bunker. The armor's eyes gleamed in the dim light as it stood up, turning to face General Singh with machine-like precision.
"General," The drone intoned, its voice modulated but clear, "Hammer Industries is here to assist. The Iron Legion will push the enemy back. Please ensure your men do not engage; our targeting systems will interpret the fire as enemy action."
The general stared in disbelief as the drone took off into the air once again, joining the swarm of power armors heading directly toward the advancing Chinese forces. For a moment, he could do nothing but gape.
"Maybe..." He muttered, shaking his head as the reality set in. "Maybe Hammer really can do more than I thought..."
Then, with renewed energy, he spun on his heel, roaring at his staff. "What are you looking at, you layabouts?! Back inside! Get on the line and spread the news! I don't want our boys getting chewed up by those things!"
As he rushed back inside, General Amarjit Singh felt something he hadn't felt in hours - hope. China's attack had caught them all off guard, but now, there was someone responding. And if anyone could push back the tide, it was the man who seemed to be capable of anything: Justin Hammer.
He sent a little prayer to the man, thanking him for saving them where his government couldn't, praying it would be enough.
He wouldn't lose all his men today after all.
Same time, Cairo.
Justin stood on the wall of his Cairo compound, his gaze fixed on the sprawling flying city in front of him. It was a scene of organized chaos, a testament to the relentless efficiency of Hammer Industries. The city's rebuilding had commenced at a breakneck pace, and all around him, he could see the evidence of his vision taking shape.
Construction workers swarmed over half-built structures like ants over a sugar trail. Autonomous drones and vehicles cleared the last remnants of rubble, their sleek forms moving with mechanical precision. Human workers followed in their wake, meticulously setting to work on the foundation, redoing electrical systems and plumbing as they went.
Not only redoing, but improving things. Cairo would be unrecognizable, but a truly modern city, truly his. Although it was a bit annoying that his entire team and his AI had teamed up and vetoed him renaming the city to something more… Hammer.
He could have forced the issue, but if he did that for every minor thing, he'd eventually erode their loyalty, so best to leave it be.
Well, at least he still had Hammerhaven, so it wasn't too bad…
From where he stood, Justin could see entire blocks of the floating city transforming. Buildings sprouted from the ground in a matter of hours, the shattered remnants of old Cairo giving way to gleaming new structures, each more advanced than the last. It was the future he had promised, a future built not just on ambition but on raw, untapped potential. And yet, even as he watched his city being rebuilt at an astonishing pace, Justin's mind was elsewhere.
He could feel it if he tried - the prayers. It was always there, humming softly in the back of his consciousness. A constant buzz of millions of voices, some quiet, others desperate, calling out to him for everything from salvation to trivial desires. Hundreds of millions of prayers, maybe more. He wasn't even sure how he knew that; it was just instinctual now. Sorting through them, picking out one voice among the masses, was nearly impossible unless it was someone he knew. Those he had personal connections with had a unique resonance - an echo, of sorts - one that he could pick out almost immediately.
Hela hadn't been much help in understanding this new facet of his divinity. She had explained that Asgardians hadn't relied on prayer in the way other gods might for a very long time. Their domains and godlike status had been set millennia ago, passed down hereditarily from parent to child. Lack of prayers didn't weaken them; they existed as gods purely by virtue of their lineage and mythos, all of it already set in stone to some extent.
Thousands upon thousands of years ago, the first Kings and Queens of Asgard, had become gods in truth, and spread it amongst their people to an extent. Back then prayers had assisted, but eventually, after a millenia, the divinity had settled. Now, even if no one believed in Asgard ever again, they would never grow weaker from that lack of faith.
That explained why Odin and the likes of Thor and Tyr, were so powerful, coming from the original lines of true gods, remaining as such, while the average Asgardian wasn't much more than an enhanced human by comparison, even if they still held that spark of divinity that had originally been spread.
For Justin, it would be different he assumed, at least for now. He still needed the prayers, though they were more of a tool than a crutch. In time, he wouldn't require them either. But for now, they had an undeniable strengthening effect. He knew that if people began praying to the Asgardians again in large enough numbers, they too would grow stronger, though none of them had ever truly needed it.
The effect still existed for them, it just couldn't bring them below their baseline. But it could heighten them. Another reason, Hela had explained, why her wish for conquest only made sense. In her belief, they needed worshippers again, and the best way to achieve that was by the sword. Then Asgardians would rule the universe.
That last part he'd intuited from what she was saying, she hadn't actually said that part out loud, correctly assuming this was one of the reasons Justin was loath to risk empowering her in any way.
His eyes scanned over the city, taking in the steady pulse of progress, the hum of industry. His city. He could feel his own power radiating outward, suffusing everything beneath him. It was why he was here - standing on this wall, lost in thought. It was a feeling unlike anything he had ever known, and it gnawed at the edges of his consciousness, reminding him of what he had become.
Yesterday, he had witnessed something that still took his breath away. A stretch of one of Cairo's busiest streets had been leveled, demolished down to its very foundation. But within hours, the entire area had been rebuilt. Buildings had risen, the electrical grid, sewer, and plumbing systems had been replaced, all in a single day. One day.
His divinity spread out over the city, his domain… One day!
Granted, he had an army of drones, autonomous vehicles, and highly skilled workers to assist, but even by his standards, the speed of the rebuilding was staggering. The power he now commanded - whether it was Progress, Innovation, Humanity, or Civilization, or some combination of all of them - was manifesting in ways he hadn't anticipated. And it thrilled him.
His hands gripped the wall tightly as he contemplated the implications. If he could accomplish this with just one city, what would happen when the entire planet was under his control? Would his domains spread, suffusing every corner of the globe with his influence? Would the world transform as rapidly as Cairo had?
Justin had initially scoffed at some of his domains, thinking they were superfluous. Power and Might were all well and good, but Civilization? And Progress? He had considered them unnecessary additions - until now. Now, he could see the true extent of what he had inherited. The potential was limitless, and it made him dangerous in ways he hadn't fully appreciated before.
He felt a small grin tugging at the corners of his lips. The world had no idea what was coming.
No… The universe had no idea how powerful this planet was about to become under his aegis. Thanos would come one day, and break himself on Fortress Earth…
As he stood there, absorbed in his thoughts, he became aware of a familiar presence approaching. He could sense Yelena long before she made it up the wall, her energy familiar and teasing. She was doing it again - praying to him for the most ridiculous things, just to catch his attention. It was a game of hers lately, and while it should have annoyed him, it only served to make him smirk in amusement.
When Yelena finally reached him, dressed in a sinfully tight outfit that was no doubt intended to provoke, Justin didn't turn to face her immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the city below, though his eyes flicked sideways to catch her exaggerated pout.
"No," He said dryly, "I'm not going to give you Russia." A familiar argument the last few days, when word domination became less of a future plan, and more of a goal within sight.
Yelena leaned against the wall beside him, her expression exaggerated in mock disappointment. "Not even if I do that thing you like?" She teased, her voice lilting as she gave him an exaggerated puppy-dog look.
Justin snorted, turning to face her fully with a look of bemusement. "Literally a sex god here. I can feel that you enjoy it even more than I do." His tone was sardonic, though there was an undercurrent of humor there.
It wasn't a domain he had particularly wanted, as the gods who held such things seemed gods of excess and vices more than anything, something he would not want to fall into, but it had become a part of him regardless. Rumors about his… Proclivities… Had circulated long enough for it to set apparently, helped along by Yelena and Helen Cho spreading gossip - and the infamous sex tape that had gone viral, it had been almost inevitable. The mythos of Justin Hammer had grown, and with it, his domains.
Perhaps the large number of domains came down to the fact that several billion people in different parts of the world all had wildly different ideas about him…
Being a god of Sex and Lust should have been fantastic, and in some ways, it certainly was. He had tested that aspect of his divinity quite thoroughly. But it wasn't without its drawbacks. Just like the constant stream of prayers, he could now sense whenever anyone within a wide radius engaged in any form of sexual activity - that included masturbation. It was a sensory overload he was still working to push into the background, just like the prayers.
He really didn't need to know that much about the people around him. Especially not Cho. Who apparently was worse, by herself, then she was with a partner.
Some things he can't unsee.
Yelena's smirk widened as she joined him at the wall, her arms crossed in a display of casual confidence. "Can you feel my devotion then, my god?" She teased, her tone playful, though the glint in her eyes was all mischief.
Justin flicked her on the nose, making her scrunch up her face in an adorably exaggerated reaction. "None of that," He said, his tone firm but not unkind. "My name, or sir, will suffice."
"Yes, sir," Yelena responded smartly, though the smirk didn't leave her lips. She had always enjoyed calling him 'sir' and he knew it.
"You're taking after Domino too much," He warned lightly, his lips quirking in amusement. His ascension to godhood had put his inner circle into something of a frenzy. They had all tried, in their own ways, to probe, test, and see if he had changed.
Especially Domino. That woman had practically made it her mission to figure out if he was any different now, constantly pushing at the boundaries to see where they were.
He was fairly certain he hadn't changed much - at least not yet. And that made sense. His ascension had been built on the foundations of who he already was, on the beliefs and tendencies he already possessed even if seen by billions of others. His divinity had merely amplified those aspects of him. He was still Justin Hammer, just more.
And well… What was better than Justin Hammer? More of Justin Hammer of course.
"I assume, since you're here, she's ready to begin?" He asked, his thoughts shifting back to the task at hand. He turned away from the city and focused fully on Yelena now, his expression sharpening.
Yelena nodded, her face losing some of its playful edge as she grew serious. "She's ready. We've gone through the interrogation fully, concluding with a session from Domino."
Justin hummed softly, considering the information. Domino's involvement was something he'd personally requested - her methods, while unorthodox, were often highly effective due to her luck. He turned, stepping away from the wall as he prepared to face what was next. "Let's see what's in Sinister's head then, shall we? Lead me to Miss Frost."
Yelena nodded again, and together, they walked away from the wall, leaving the city behind as they descended into the heart of the compound.
A few minutes later, Cairo.
Justin and Yelena made their way down the hallways of his compound, heading toward the reinforced holding cells where Nathaniel Essex - better known as Sinister - was waiting, having been moved here from Hammerhaven.
Waiting for them outside Sinister's holding cell was Emma Frost, who was attempting to maintain her usual aura of regal poise despite the strain of the past few days. It wasn't easy to make someone like Emma Frost look out of sorts, but the recent days of interrogation - however soft they had been - had taken their toll. Her clothes were still impeccable, a tailored white outfit that hugged her figure, but her once-lustrous hair lacked its usual shine, and there was a slight tightness around her eyes. Small imperfections, but enough for Justin to notice.
Emma Frost had come to him with a deal, and Justin had been all too happy to accept. Frost Industries was now officially a subsidiary of Hammer Industries. While her weapons division had proven to be competent - her power armor models were a step up from the goblin armors at least - they still fell short of what Justin and Tony Stark could produce.
There had been no competition there. But Frost Industries wasn't valuable to him for its weapons - it was its grip on the public transportation sector across Europe, the Balkans, and even parts of the Middle East that made it worth folding into his empire. It gave Justin the foothold he needed to dominate yet another industry on a global scale.
Now, she stood before him, trying to keep that familiar cold air of superiority intact. How cute.
At least her information on the Hellfire club that she had previously held back was useful. He'd have to do something there soon… Shaw was kept happy and fat so far, by the many business deals he kept making with Hellfire club members, but it wouldn't last forever. And Shaw more than anyone, was able to coax Selene Gallio to act.
If he didn't have two situations to deal with already, he would have moved on that one. But for now, the Hellfire Club would have to sit.
"Emma, you look radiant as always," Justin said with a pleasant smile, his voice dripping with just the right amount of smugness to let her know he wasn't fooled by her attempts to appear unruffled.
Emma didn't return the smile. Instead, she sniffed lightly, turning her head away from him in a haughty display of indifference. But Justin didn't miss the signs. Her hair wasn't as perfectly coiffed, and there was a slight dullness to her skin. She was trying to keep up appearances, but she hadn't had time nor access to put herself back to her best yet.
He clicked his tongue in mock disappointment as he stepped closer, his eyes never leaving her face. Without warning, he let his aura of domination unfurl, not with any real intent but as a reminder of the power he held. The effect was immediate - Emma stiffened, her body freezing as if she had been caught in the gaze of a predator. She was someone who prided herself on control, and Justin could see the tension rippling through her as he moved even closer, her control escaping her in front of a true power.
Reaching out, he gently placed his hand on her chin, turning her face to look directly at him. "Now, that's not how we respond to the boss, is it?" His voice remained pleasant, but there was an unmistakable edge beneath the words, a hint of a threat wrapped in velvet.
For a moment, Emma's expression flickered. She looked like she was struggling with something, perhaps her pride, before she finally lowered her head slightly, bowing in submission. "…Nice to see you as well, sir," She managed to get out, her voice tight with barely concealed resentment.
"Now was that so hard?" Justin murmured, releasing her chin and pulling back. The pressure of his aura vanished as quickly as it had come. "You came to me for a reason, Emma - my power. Don't start getting shy about your position now when you're finally on the ground floor of a global power."
Emma remained silent for a moment, her body language still rigid, but when she looked back up at him, the resentment in her eyes had faded somewhat. There was still some defiance there, of course, but not nearly as much as he might have expected. She had chosen this, after all - chosen to align herself with him without needing any significant prompting. It was that ambition, that cold, calculated desire for power, that had made her approach him in the first place.
"I am here to be useful, sir," She said after a long pause, her voice more composed now.
Justin hummed in response, eyeing her with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction. He could work with this.
"Sir, Sinister is prepped and ready," Yelena said from behind him, her voice a sharp reminder of the task at hand. Her eyes flicked to Emma with a superior glance, clearly unimpressed by the White Queen of the Hellfire Club.
Justin raised a hand, stopping her. "I want to try something first," He said, his tone taking on a curious edge. He turned to Emma, his eyes gleaming with something close to challenge. "Try to break into my mind." With a thought, he set his implant on passive, removing the normal obstacle.
Yelena's head snapped toward him, her expression immediately hardening into one of disapproval. "You're joking, right?" Her voice was sharp with incredulity, though she made no move to stop him, her hand hovering over her weapons just in case.
But Justin wasn't joking. His newfound godhood had left him curious, wondering if someone with Emma's level of telepathic power could even scratch the surface of his mind now. He had developed faster regeneration, stronger mental defenses, and his control over his own abilities had only grown. Even if she did manage to slip through, his powers would protect him from any lasting damage.
If she was stupid enough to try anything, which he doubted.
Emma, for her part, looked visibly uncomfortable with the request. Her eyes flicked to Yelena, then back to Justin, before she swallowed visibly, her poise slipping just slightly. "I'd… Prefer not to," She said, her voice chilly and still carrying that regal edge, but it didn't fully mask her apprehension. She was used to being the one in control, the one who could assert her dominance through sheer willpower and mental prowess. Now, she stood before someone who might be beyond her reach, and that uncertainty was clearly unsettling.
She was also obviously worried about any punishment should she succeed and anything happened. Yelena was hardly making it difficult to see that she'd kill her for one wrong move.
Justin's smile didn't falter. "It's an order," He said, his tone mild but the authority behind it unmistakable.
For a moment, Emma's expression flickered again. She looked like she would rather be anywhere else in the world, but after a long, tense pause, she nodded reluctantly, her gaze focusing on his. The tension between them crackled as she concentrated, her eyes narrowing as she attempted to penetrate his mind.
For the first minute, nothing happened. Then, without warning, Emma winced, a hand coming up to rest on her forehead. She looked away, her eyes momentarily closing as if in pain. "I can't," She admitted, her voice strained. "It's like… There's a chasm between us. One I can't cross."
Justin's implant buzzed back to life as he turned it on with a thought. Nail's voice came through almost immediately, whispering that based on everything known about Emma Frost - her powers, her mannerisms, vocal tone, facial tics - she was telling the truth.
Pleased with the result, Justin smiled. "After you then, my lady," He said, his voice cheerful as he gestured toward Sinister's cell.
Emma composed herself once more, straightening her posture and smoothing her expression as she led the way into the holding cell. Inside, the room was built state-of-the-art, every inch of it designed to hold anything - and anyone. Sinister was strapped down in the center of the room, his body locked into position by a complex array of restraints. His eyes were wide, his face contorted in pain as the specialized version of Extremis coursed through him, intensifying his suffering.
He could do nothing but blink and scream.
Emma ignored the screaming entirely, her heels clicking sharply on the floor as she approached him. She placed a single fingertip on his forehead, her focus intense as she began to probe his mind.
"The pain is not making this easier," She commented coolly, her voice cutting through Sinister's shrieks.
Justin shrugged, leaning casually against the wall, his eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction. "Can't turn it off," He said with a nonchalant tone, though the smirk tugging at his lips made it clear he wasn't in any hurry to ease Sinister's suffering.
He should consider himself lucky that Justin hadn't begun to get creative yet. He'd lost him Hope…
Sinister would live for a very long time… He might even outlive every other human being out there, all of it in immense pain.
Emma shot him a glance over her shoulder, her expression one of mild annoyance. "Can't or won't?"
Justin's smile widened, but he didn't bother answering. The question wasn't worth responding to.
Emma grumbled something under her breath, something that didn't sound quite as ladylike as her usual demeanor, before turning her attention fully back to Sinister. "He has defenses, it seems," She murmured, her brow furrowing in concentration. "But the pain has eroded them. I can get through, even if his muddled thoughts will make it take longer to parse anything useful."
And so, the secrets locked inside Nathaniel Essex's twisted mind began to unravel.
To Justin's pleasure. It seemed it was a process that was quite painful.
Or perhaps Emma was fishing for brownie points.
Either way, he was very pleased.
Later that night, Cairo.
Justin leaned back in his chair, the soft hum of Cairo's war room surrounding him. The dark, sleek table in front of him gleamed under the recessed lighting, and the walls were alive with large holographic displays flashing status reports from around the globe.
Yelena sat at his side, calm and composed, though the slight narrowing of her eyes betrayed her frustration at the day's developments. Emma Frost, however, was anything but calm. She sat stiffly across from Justin, clearly doing her best to project her usual icy composure. Still, her fingers twitched occasionally against her immaculate white outfit, and she kept stealing cautious glances at the surrounding screens. The subtle tension in her posture revealed her uncertainty, and it was clear she was carefully walking a line, unsure of how far she could push in her new position.
Justin tapped his fingers against the edge of the table, a small smirk playing on his lips as he observed Emma. Her discomfort amused him, and he had no plans to alleviate it. It was good for her to know exactly where she stood - especially after everything she'd pulled with Frost Industries and her little games with him. Folding her company into Hammer Industries had been a strategic win, but Emma herself was still untested in this new role, and he liked watching her squirm.
He tapped the desk a final time and straightened, the smirk fading from his face. It was time to get to business.
Storm and Bucky were both leading his assets in the field - Storm in Africa, overseeing the protection of his resources there, while Bucky and Kaecilius managed the situation in the States. Electro, newly recovered and assisting again after Emma had unlocked his mind, was with Bucky's group. It turned out that Electro's mental block wasn't the result of an Apocalypse resurgence, as they'd feared. Emma had unlocked his mind with scorn in her voice, noting that there was no way Xavier hadn't noticed the block when it first happened, considering he had been on-site.
Apocalypse had simply locked Electro inside his own mind.
Justin hadn't been surprised by that revelation. It had only reaffirmed his belief that Xavier, like Magneto, was an old man clinging to power. Magneto was already rotting in one of his cells, and Xavier, while still technically free, was essentially inconsequential now. His team was falling apart, his public reputation shredded after recent revelations. Justin had no immediate plans to deal with Xavier, but it was something he kept in the back of his mind. The professor was less trustworthy than even Justin had originally believed.
Magneto would only live long enough for Maya and Helen to figure out how to transfer his powers… Then he too would pay for having had a hand in the fight that had taken Hope in the end.
The large screen in front of Justin flickered to life as Sunil Bakshi appeared, his face sharp and serious. Doctor Octavius followed shortly after, his mechanical arms whirring faintly in the background as he adjusted something off-screen - thankfully properly built ones this time... Vanko was deployed with the H.A.M.M.E.R team, and Forge was occupied with engineering things for the Moon assault, so Octavius was the one reporting on the current state of the Iron Legion.
Justin steepled his fingers, his eyes narrowing as he regarded the two men on the screen. "Make it quick, gentlemen," He said, his voice clipped. "I can't afford to spend too much time on the Mandarin. He's the lesser threat right now."
The cold truth hung in the air. It would cost him - both in public perception and lives - to not be able to stop all the attacks that would come. But Justin couldn't afford to let the Sentinel program run its course on the Moon. It was too dangerous to humanity.
The Mandarin was an annoyance, a painful one, like a swarm of mosquitos giving him a thousand little pricks slowly, one by one.
The Sentinel program had the possibility of becoming an extinction event, especially with Skrulls in charge of it, looking to take over the planet for their race. The Sentinels, if the program was completed before he could stop it, would be a force that would cost him a thousand times more than the Mandarin.
The choice was easy in the end with such calculations.
Sunil was the first to speak, his tone as efficient as always. "Sir, Nail has managed to intercept and prevent eleven sabotage attempts so far. However, we've missed six bombings in locations that were less well-covered. These incidents took place in low-priority nations - Peru, Zimbabwe, etc - but the casualties are still significant."
Justin grimaced, resting his chin on his tented hands. "Nail, how are they avoiding you? And what can we do to fix it?" Not that much of the answer was likely anything they could do at the moment…
Nail's holographic avatar materialized near the table, her presence causing Emma to flinch slightly. It was obvious Emma was still uncomfortable with Justin's global AI, having not known beforehand, but she wisely kept her mouth shut, though her eyes betrayed her unease.
"Sir," Nail began, her voice calm and precise, "In well-developed countries, we've been able to catch the Mandarin's operatives in the act. The use of their so-called 'ninja' has been identified, but there simply isn't enough surveillance infrastructure in less-developed nations to cover every possible target. The lack of CCTV and satellite coverage in these areas creates blind spots."
Justin grunted in reluctant agreement. The 'uplift' of these nations was still far from complete. It would take years to bring countries like Zimbabwe up to par with the surveillance and infrastructure of America or Europe. The Mandarin's operatives, those damned ninjas, also managed to avoid using any technology that would make them easier to track, further complicating matters.
He cast a sideways glance at Yelena. "Your Black Widows having any luck?"
Yelena's expression darkened. She hated failure. "They're too spread out," She admitted, not bothering to hide her frustration. "By the time they receive the warnings, they can't respond fast enough. We've already lost three agents."
The weight of that loss settled over the room for a moment before Emma spoke up, her voice calculating and calm. "If you can capture someone from their organization, I can work them over," She suggested, her eyes glinting with the possibility of getting her hands on one of the Mandarin's operatives.
Sunil immediately nodded but looked doubtful. "They commit suicide at the slightest sign of any risk of capture," He explained grimly. "It's unlikely we'll be able to get our hands on one alive."
Justin rubbed the bridge of his nose, irritation spiking. "Enough of this, then. We continue to upgrade our security. Spread Nail's awareness wherever possible and defend ourselves as best we can. As frustrating as it is, we can lose a hundred factories and not technically lose anything that sets us back." His tone turned sharp. "Public perception is another issue. Nail, steer the media as best you can, control social media, remove as much bad news as possible."
Nail nodded, her digital form flickering in acknowledgment. "Yes, sir. I will prioritize shifting narratives and ensuring minimal public fallout."
Justin turned his attention back to Sunil. "China's invasion of Taiwan and India - any other nations in Asia following suit?"
It was a clever move by the Mandarin. The chaos was tying up a vast amount of Justin's resources and time. With the man's grip over much of Asia, China wasn't the only concern. He could force a conflict elsewhere too.
It would cost him, but the man was obviously willing to risk losing a few countries to take Justin down, safe in his immortality to return to power eventually for all he'd lost.
Doctor Octavius cleared his throat before speaking. "The Iron Legion has successfully blunted the Chinese advance into India. We've also assisted U.S. naval forces in establishing air superiority over Chinese waters near Taiwan as the U.S. prepares for its liberation of Taiwan, though that's still likely a month away at best with the Americans as they are.." He tapped at a tablet off-screen before continuing. "American soldiers are also assisting South Korea as North Korean forces have crossed the DMZ with Chinese support. Japan has remained quiet, but there are rumblings in Indonesia, and saber-rattling is escalating across the region."
"We can only assist and hold for now," Justin said, his tone cold and dismissive. "Let the U.S. handle what they do best - well, as best as they can." He shook his head, a sardonic look on his face, the US for all its vaunted military didn't exactly have that great of a record for actually solving any problems.
Emma, who had remained silent until now, raised an immaculate eyebrow. "Thousands will die," She said simply, as if testing him.
Justin's gaze flicked to her, his expression hard. "And?"
People tended to forget he was no hero. What did a few thousand or even hundreds of thousands of lives matter in the great calculus of things? Justin would bring the survivors utopia, that's what mattered.
HYDRA was right about one thing. Humans didn't desire freedom, they were afraid of it - their real desire was safety, security, letting someone else make the decisions.
Emma's lips curved into a faint smirk. Yelena rolled her eyes at the other woman's attempt to test him. Emma's smirk faded slightly as Justin's cold demeanor didn't waver. Yelena, sitting next to him, gave Emma a small shake of her head, as if to say - you really don't know him yet, do you?
Doctor Octavius, oblivious to the tension between the women, cleared his throat. "Sir, the Iron Legion is stretched thin across Asia. If any more countries erupt into conflict, we'll struggle to cover all fronts. The U.S. is prioritizing Taiwan, but if the entire region collapses into chaos…"
Justin waved his hand dismissively. "If Asia erupts in flames, it erupts. We can't be everywhere at once. We're not gods." He paused, allowing a small smirk to return. "Well, most of us aren't." He threw a glance at Yelena, who hid her smile. Emma, however, simply raised an eyebrow in silent acknowledgment of his newfound divinity.
Doctor Octavius shifted uneasily, continuing his report. "Riots have broken out in several Chinese cities, but the government is suppressing them with brutal efficiency. There's speculation that the Chinese leadership may be compromised, possibly Skrull involvement, due to the nature of the attacks."
"Well, that will only help the narrative, I suppose." Justin murmured, "And what of the US, I know they're holding meetings worried about 'my meteoric rise'." He said with some amusement. "Nail, anything else on why the Americans are poised to drag their feet?"
Nail's hologram appeared again, answering him. "Sir, there are rumblings of impeachment proceedings against President Ellis in Congress. American support for our efforts may wane if their government becomes consumed with internal conflict, and it appears it's this conflict which is delaying matters."
Justin let out a short, mirthless laugh. "Impeachment, huh? For what, exactly?"
Nail tilted her head, her holographic eyes scanning through data. "The allegations center around Ellis' connections to you, sir, and the fact that he permitted the use of the Iron Legion without congressional approval."
Of course he'd done no such thing. Justin hadn't bothered getting permission… Oh well. Ellis could handle it on his own, or not… Chaos in this helped him, even as it also gave him some headaches in the short term due to the US not being as quick as usual to jump into the conflict.
Emma cut in smoothly, her gaze sharpening. "They can't touch you directly, so they're going after your perceived puppet. It's politics as usual."
Sunil leaned forward on the screen, his expression carefully neutral. "Do you want us to intervene, sir? Push back?"
Justin shook his head, waving the suggestion away. "Let it play out. If they want to tear their own government apart while we're busy, all the better. Chaos has its uses, after all." He glanced at Yelena, who nodded in agreement. "Let them flounder. We'll capitalize on it later."
Yelena cocked her head slightly, curious. "Won't that set back U.S. military efforts?"
Justin shrugged. "Possibly. But more likely, it'll just be another example of their incompetence and indecision. The longer they waffle, the better we look in comparison when we start cleaning up their messes. People will see the truth in time."
Emma studied him carefully, her icy exterior cracking just a bit as she realized the depth of his long-term strategy. The more the governments of the world failed - the sooner Hammer Industries could step in and take over.
Doctor Octavius, his arms whirring behind him, shifted his focus. "Sir, if we pull too much of the Iron Legion to manage the chaos in Asia, it will leave other regions vulnerable, including our upcoming project." He reminded him.
Justin steepled his fingers again, his gaze intent. "Which brings us to the Moon."
Emma blinked in surprise, confusion finally crossing her carefully controlled expression. "The Moon?" She asked, trying to regain her composure.
Yelena smirked, her amusement clear. "Oh, Emma, you didn't know? Aliens are building an army of robots called Sentinels on the Moon - their goal, to wipe out humanity."
Emma's perfect posture faltered for the first time, her eyes widening slightly. "What!?"
Justin chuckled darkly, enjoying the shock on her face. "Welcome to the big leagues, Emma. The world you knew is a small slice of a much bigger, much more dangerous universe. The Skrulls… They've been playing with Earth, and now we're getting involved to put a stop to it finally. The Sentinel program on the Moon is their latest project - designed to wipe us out."
Emma's expression hardened as she processed the information. She was no stranger to large-scale threats, but the idea of alien forces building a weapon of that magnitude unsettled even her. "And I assume we're planning to stop it soon?" She clarified, stressing the word soon.
"Of course," Justin replied smoothly, leaning back in his chair. "The question is how to best approach it. We've made great strides in developing countermeasures, but it's a delicate situation. We can't exactly announce to the world that we're about to go to war with aliens."
What if they failed the first strike? It would be humiliating. Better to wait to announce it after they've won.
So they could tell the world, while you squabbled, we ended an extinction event. Hammer industries is your only way forward. Every instance of competence would make the eventual takeover smoother.
Justin turned to Doctor Octavius. "What's the status on our Moon mission?"
Doctor Octavius glanced at his tablet again. "Preparations are nearly complete. Vanko has finalized the prototype armor for extraterrestrial deployment, and we're ready to begin assembling the team. However, the Sentinel bases on the Moon are vast according to the recent Intel from Sinister, and we don't have a complete picture of their strength. It will be a difficult battle."
"Nothing worth doing is easy, Doc," Justin said with a smirk. "We'll have to make do with what we have. Speed is key - before the Sentinels become fully operational."
Worst case, there was the power stone, but that was not ideal. Blowing up the Moon hardly won him any points, not to mention the other issues with such a thing.
Emma, having regained her composure, leaned forward slightly, her sharp gaze locked on Justin. "And what happens if we fail?"
Justin frowned at her. "We won't fail. That's not an option. If we lose to the Sentinels, we lose everything."
Yelena leaned back in her chair, her confidence radiating. "Then we better make sure the Moon becomes ours."
Justin's eyes gleamed with determination. "We will. The Sentinels are just one more obstacle in our way, and we've dealt with worse. Once we take control of the Moon, Earth's space will be secure within a year."
The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of their mission hanging in the air. They were on the brink of something monumental. The Mandarin's chaos on Earth was nothing compared to the threat of the Sentinels lurking on the Moon.
Justin stood, his hands planted firmly on the table. "We move forward. Finalize the team for the Moon operation. Everyone else, keep the Mandarin in check as best as you can while we'll be gone. We can't afford any distractions. Understood?"
The group nodded, their focus unwavering.
Justin glanced one last time at Emma, who still looked unsure of her place, but the gleam in her eyes said she liked what she saw. "Welcome to the real game, Emma."
She held his gaze, her expression sharp and resolute. "I'm ready."
The meeting ended, but the sense of impending action lingered. The war on Earth was just the beginning. The battle for the Moon - and the fate of humanity - was next.
And Justin was ready for whatever came next.
This was his planet!
The next day, early morning, India.
Justin stepped through the shimmering portal, the landscape of the border between China and India unfolding before him. The air was thick with the acrid stench of artillery fire and gunfire, smoke lingering over the battlefield.
The terrain was littered with remnants of war - abandoned tanks, craters from artillery shells, and debris scattered across the ground. But the most prominent feature, unmistakable even from a distance, was the mountain of bodies, stacked haphazardly in a grotesque display of carnage. Atop this grisly throne lounged Hela, the Goddess of Death, looking entirely at ease.
Is this how I'm going to find her every time? He thought, knowing she had a use, but disliking how much of a blunt tool she was. For as much as the idea of wielding a hammer, as a Hammer was - he preferred to utilize more multi-purpose tools, instead of a single solution one.
He walked closer, inspecting her as he did.
Her black armor glistened in the dim light of an early morning, the sun barely poking over the horizon, and her dark, blood-streaked hair hung loose over her shoulders. She sat with one leg draped over the edge of the macabre pile, idly tracing a finger across the edge of her necrosword as if it were the most casual of pastimes.
Justin walked toward her slowly, his face impassive, his boots crunching over the gravel and debris beneath him. The bodies, the destruction - it was all irrelevant to him. His focus was on Hela, and the task at hand. He came to a stop just at the base of the pile, looking up at the goddess as she glanced down at him with an amused smile.
"Hela," He greeted her with a small nod, his voice cutting through the stillness.
Hela stretched languidly, as if she had just woken from a peaceful nap. "You send me to the nicest places, Justin," She purred, sounding pleased. Relaxed.
Like she'd just went for a nice bath. Not a slaughter.
Justin's expression remained neutral. "When you can only do one thing..." He pointed out dryly, letting the implication hang in the air. What else was he supposed to do with her, after all?
Hela pouted playfully, pretending to be offended by his words. "Oh, come now. I can do many things. You just prefer to keep me in my natural element." She shifted slightly on the pile, the sound of bodies shifting beneath her a grisly reminder of her work.
Before Justin could respond, Hela's head cocked to the side, her sharp ears picking up something in the distance. Her eyes gleamed with predatory delight as she crafted a massive necrosword from thin air. With a quick flick of her wrist, she hurled it skyward, and seconds later, there was a brilliant explosion in the sky, far off in the distance. Justin, with his heightened senses, barely caught the explosion with a flicker of energy dissipating.
"They keep trying to bomb me," Hela said with a bored tone, inspecting her nails as if the effort had been beneath her. "Silly mortals. You don't learn lessons very easily, do you?"
"To be fair," Justin replied, his tone dry, "Most militaries aren't used to facing someone who can just look at missiles and fighter jets and then say - No."
Hela chuckled darkly, her lips curving into a sinister grin. "Mortals and their toys," She mused, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "They never quite grasp the futility of it all."
Justin's eyes remained steady on her, not giving her the satisfaction of amusement. He knew Hela loved the theatrics, loved to play her role to the hilt, but there was work to be done. "Are you ready to be useful again? Or do you plan to lounge around here all day?"
Hela's eyes lit up with excitement, her bloodthirsty grin widening. "You're here to finally let me off the leash, aren't you?" She leaned forward slightly, her eyes glinting with malevolent anticipation. "These Chinese... They'd bow to me if they lost a hundred million or two of their citizens."
Justin raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "I already forced the world to put their nukes away. I'm not about to let you enact your own version of Armageddon." He rolled his eyes at her exaggerated pout. "There's plenty of death for you yet. We're going after the Skrulls next."
Hela's pout deepened as she crossed her arms. "The Skrulls?" She scoffed, clearly unimpressed. "Those shapeshifting pests. You expect me to get excited about fighting them? Where's the fun in that?"
"They'll have giant robots designed to exterminate humanity," Justin offered, his voice still carrying that note of dry detachment.
Hela's response was a dismissive wave of her hand. "Robots, you say? Killing machines without souls, without fear?" She sighed dramatically, flipping her hair. "Where's the joy in that? No screams, no terror. Just cold metal falling to pieces. You really are depriving me, Justin." She gave him an exaggeratedly disappointed look. "And here I thought you, of all people, would understand my tastes. After all, with that domain of yours..." Her voice dropped to a suggestive purr as she gave him a teasing glance.
Justin's eyes narrowed. Without a word, he tapped into his domination domain, letting the weight of his power press down on Hela. It was a subtle yet overwhelming force, suffocating, bending reality to his will. Hela froze for a moment, feeling the weight of his authority wash over her. Her breath caught in her throat, and a slow, delighted grin spread across her face.
…Perhaps I've misstepped… Justin thought.
"Oh, that's more like it," She crooned, tilting her head slightly, exposing her neck in a gesture of fake submission. "Do it harder," She whispered, a gleam of something dangerous flickering in her eyes.
Justin released the pressure with a sigh, shaking his head. "Every day I wonder if you were worth the hassle of the payment we're going to receive," He muttered under his breath, still not entirely sure he had made the right decision in bringing her into the fold.
Hela giggled, her laughter low and dark. "Oh, darling, I'm worth every bit of trouble. You just don't see it yet." She hopped off the pile of bodies with a graceful leap, landing effortlessly beside him. "One day, you'll realize I'm right, and you'll set your sights on the stars, on conquest. You'll see." She gave him a wide, crazed grin, her eyes alight with ambition. "I know you will."
Justin ignored her ramblings, focusing on the task at hand. "Are you done playing now? We're preparing for the attack, and your experience in war could be... Useful. I could use your input." His tone was begrudging but practical.
Hela sauntered past him toward the still-open portal, her hips swaying as she shot him a sidelong glance. "Oh, sweet of you to admit you need me," She purred, delighted.
Justin let out another sigh, thankful he could no longer get headaches.
Was it too late to get a refund?
A day later, New York City.
The safehouse was a small, nondescript apartment tucked away in the quiet corners of New York, the kind of place no one would ever look for them. In the dimly lit living room, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, and Namor sat, watching the news broadcast on a large television.
On the screen, a grim-faced news anchor reported on the escalating situation across the globe, her voice calm but filled with an underlying current of urgency.
"We turn now to the worsening crisis in Asia," the anchor began, her face framed by a graphic showing the Chinese and Indian flags clashing. "In the last seventy-two hours, China has launched a full-scale offensive against the Indian border, overwhelming Indian defenses in the Himalayan region. Reports indicate thousands of casualties on both sides, with the Chinese military deploying overwhelming force, including mechanized infantry and air support, to secure the region."
The screen cut to shaky footage of artillery fire echoing through the mountain passes, the snow-capped peaks lit up by the explosions, as Indian soldiers scrambled to hold their position. The camera zoomed in on distant plumes of smoke rising from the valley below.
"In addition to the conflict with India," the anchor continued, "China has also overwhelmed Taiwan's defenses, leading to the island's military collapse in several key locations. Sources indicate that the Chinese navy is now establishing blockades around the island, preventing any outside assistance from reaching Taiwanese forces."
A map of the region appeared on the screen, showing the positions of Chinese and Taiwanese forces, red arrows showing the direction of the Chinese advance as the situation deteriorated by the hour.
The broadcast didn't stop there. "Meanwhile, in a coordinated move, North Korea, with suspected Chinese assistance, has launched a series of assaults across the demilitarized zone, striking against South Korea. Seoul has mobilized its full military force, but there are reports of overwhelming numbers coming from the north. American forces have already seen battle to defend their allies in South Korea."
Footage switched to South Korean soldiers, as well as Americans, rushing into action, tanks rumbling down highways, fighter jets streaking through the skies as sirens blared in the background.
The anchor's voice became grave, "The United States has issued a strong condemnation of China's actions, but with their forces already committed to aiding Taiwan and defending South Korea, there are growing concerns over the ability of international forces to respond to multiple flashpoints. The world holds its breath, wondering where this will all lead."
The broadcast switched to the sight of the Iron Legion, "Thankfully, Hammer industries were able to blunt the advance by Chinese forces into India, due to a new proje-"
Steve had seen enough. His jaw tightened, and with a look of disgust, he reached for the remote and shut off the television.
"People never learn," He muttered, the frustration in his voice evident. His blue eyes glared at the now-blank screen, as if daring it to challenge his disgust. Showcasing more examples of war and stupidity.
Natasha leaned back on the worn couch, her gaze still fixed on the TV screen, even though it was now dark. She had that look, the one where she was seeing more than the rest of them. The wheels were turning in her mind, and she wasn't just watching the news; she was analyzing it, connecting dots the others weren't even aware of.
"That's kind of our thing, Cap," She drawled in the end, a sarcastic edge to her voice. "Although this one could likely be laid at Hammer's feet, he's stirred the world up too much.."
Across the room, Namor, who had been pacing with a furious energy, paused. The King of Talokan had been in a constant state of agitation ever since he had been forced into a series of humiliating concessions by the U.S. government, and Hammer's influence had been central to that outcome. His black hair, slicked back in its usual fashion, as his whole body bristled with agitation, his muscular frame seemed coiled, ready to explode at the slightest provocation.
"Hammer is behind this?" Namor asked sharply, his tone filled with contempt. "We should stop it then. End this madness before it spreads further." Rebuild their reputation, was left unsaid, but easily picked up on by the spies.
Clint exchanged a look with Natasha, the two of them holding a silent conversation in a way only seasoned operatives could. It lasted a second before Clint shrugged and addressed Namor directly.
"Look, I'm not a fan of the guy either," Clint admitted, his voice calm but firm. "But we're laying low right now, remember? This -" He gestured to the television, " - this situation is the opposite of low."
Steve stood up suddenly, his presence commanding as ever, and walked toward the center of the room. His frustration boiled just beneath the surface, his fists clenching and unclenching as he spoke. "No, Clint's wrong. Namor's right." His voice was filled with conviction. "This is where we can prove we can still be trusted. We need to stop this war. All this chaos, all these invasions - it's Hammer's fault. His reckless technology. His Iron Legion, his disregard for people's will. He's thrown the world into chaos, and we're the ones who can put a stop to it."
Natasha's brow furrowed as she looked at Steve, the tone of his voice setting off alarms in her head. "Steve, that's not really -" She began, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand.
"We can stop this, Nat," Steve continued, his voice rising with conviction. "This is the right thing to do. Just like I fought the Germans, just like I fought HYDRA, we'll fight this invasion, and we'll stop Hammer's influence from spreading." He spread his hands out with a winning smile, "And just like then, they'll thank us for it!"
Natasha shared another look with Clint, both of them clearly unsettled by Steve's sudden fervor. This was risky. Too risky.
Namor, of course, was all too eager to seize the opportunity. "The Captain speaks truly!" He declared, stepping forward, his voice echoing with the authority of a king. "We can liberate this… Taiwan, from these invaders. Once we do, the world will know we are the ones they should turn to. They will recognize us as their saviors!"
Clint sighed, crossing his arms. "There's four of us," He said, his tone dry, but the tension in his body was clear. "We can't fight an army. Not China's, not North Korea's, and definitely not whatever Hammer's got up his sleeve."
Steve's shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of reality sinking in. "There must be a way…" He murmured, his voice trailing off as he ran a hand through his hair.
Natasha closed her eyes and muttered a curse under her breath. She had known things were bad, but now it felt like they were spiraling out of control faster than she could keep up. Just as she was about to speak, Namor lit up with a smug, triumphant smirk.
"We can use my soldiers," Namor announced, as if the idea were the most obvious thing in the world. "With my forces at the forefront, we will sweep through their ranks, rise up from the sea to liberate Taiwan, and claim the victory for ourselves. No one will dare question our strength."
Steve's face brightened almost immediately. "That's right," He said, his voice filled with renewed determination. "And no one can criticize us for protecting people's freedom from invaders. No one."
Natasha opened her mouth to protest that, but the words died on her lips. Instead, she sighed heavily, standing up from the couch. "Steve, we need to lay low right now," She said, trying to keep her voice level. "Going after China - one of the world's largest armies - is not laying low. It's the exact opposite of laying low, Clint was right on that."
Clint nodded in agreement, pushing himself up from the chair. "Namor, Steve - look, we need to think this through. We need to wait for the right moment, find the best spot to jump in. We can't just rush into this headfirst. Not after last time." His voice was strained, the memory of their last failed mission hanging in the air like a dark cloud.
But Steve and Namor weren't listening. They were standing shoulder to shoulder now, going over the logistics of an attack on Taiwan as if they were planning a simple raid, not a war. Namor's excitement was palpable, while Steve's sense of righteousness burned brightly in his eyes.
Clint and Natasha exchanged yet another look, both of them clearly frustrated. This is madness! They both thought.
"Every other side sucks," Clint muttered under his breath, glancing at the two men in front of them. "But this isn't the best position either." He admitted.
Natasha's face tightened, her mind racing through the possible outcomes of this reckless plan. "We're persona non grata. We can only hope this plan works out." She paused, her voice dropping into a more uncertain tone. "It's... Possible a win here could help us."
Clint grimaced. "If we win."
Natasha nodded, her gaze lingering on Namor, who was practically glowing with self-importance. "If we win," She muttered, more to herself than to Clint.
Deep down, she had a feeling that even if they succeeded in this crazy plan, the world wouldn't be any more grateful than they were now. Namor might relish the idea of a triumphant victory, but there was a reason they were laying low in the first place.
And dragging the people of Talokan into this mess might just make things worse.
Should she try to reach out? Maybe… Maybe Yelena could…
No. She clenched her fists at her sides, her resolve hardening. Calling Yelena was too much like admitting defeat. She was THE Black Widow, and she'd find a way to make this work.
Natasha stood up, rubbing her temples before addressing the room. "Boys, if we're doing this, we're doing it right. So listen up."
Steve and Namor turned toward her, still buzzing with energy, but there was a hint of acknowledgment in Steve's eyes. He respected her enough to know that if Natasha Romanoff had something to say, it was worth listening to. Namor, however, looked less enthused, but even he quieted down when Natasha raised a hand.
Clint, sitting back with his head in his hands, peeked through his fingers, groaning softly. "I guess we're really doing this, huh?" He muttered, his tone half resigned, half exasperated.
This could only end well, he thought.
Johannesburg, same time.
Storm stood above the smoking ruins of Johannesburg's once-thriving industrial complex built by Hammer industries, her eyes filled with fury as she took in the devastation. Flames roared beneath the thick, acrid smoke rising into the sky, and the chaos on the ground was immense. Rescue teams scrambled to save what they could, but the sheer scale of destruction left little hope. Bodies lay scattered, covered in makeshift tarps, while survivors, bloodied and dust-covered, wandered aimlessly, their faces frozen in shock.
Taking a deep breath, Storm called upon her power, raising her arms toward the heavens. The wind responded instantly, whipping around her, and the already darkened skies swirled violently. Her white hair floated in the air as if it had a life of its own. The air above began to shift, growing thick and humid as she summoned her element. Thunder rumbled overhead as she formed massive storm clouds, and soon, fat raindrops began to fall in torrents.
The downpour intensified with every passing second, rain cascading over the burning buildings below, sending up clouds of steam as it met the roaring flames. Storm concentrated, guiding the rain precisely where it was needed. She could feel the fire fighting her back, but she would win. She had to. For all the innocents caught in the middle of the Mandarin's reign of terror, for all the progress that was slipping away under a tide of blood and flames, she had to succeed.
"Tell me we got any of them!" She growled into her communicator, her voice strained with barely contained rage.
From his position in the sky beside her, Brock, piloting the Vulture armor, scanned the ground. His helmeted head swiveled back and forth, searching through the wreckage. His mechanical voice came through her earpiece, filled with disgust. "Suicide attack, Storm. They took themselves out. Nothing left to trace, no evidence to find. It's all gone."
Storm's fists clenched tightly at his words, and for a brief moment, she lost control. The winds howled around her as a burst of anger flared through her, the deluge intensifying to the point that even the firefighters had to step back. Realizing what she had done, she forced herself to calm, reining in her powers with a slow exhale. The winds lessened, the rain slowing to a more manageable torrent, just enough to continue smothering the flames.
"So many dead," She whispered, her voice barely audible over the storm she had created. Her heart broke as her gaze shifted back to the rows of bodies covered in tarps. "Africa was finally going somewhere, Rumlow... We were building a future. Hammer's work was bringing us hope. And now..." She trailed off, her voice thick with emotion as she swallowed hard.
Brock's voice crackled in her ear again. "Yeah, I know. It's hard to look at this and not feel like we've failed." There was a pause as his armor hovered beside her. "Suicide bombers are almost impossible to defend against. They erased all the evidence by their actions. We have nothing."
Storm clenched her fists, the rain shifting as her emotions warred within her. "We have too many targets to protect," She admitted, her voice low and pained. "Nail gave us the warning, but it wasn't enough. Not in time. Not to stop this." She looked down at the burning complex and then at the grieving families left behind, sobbing and clutching each other in disbelief. "We disarmed two bombs, but the rest... And then those trucks full of explosives." She shook her head, the frustration boiling over.
"We need to strike back," She muttered, her voice laced with venom. "We need to stop this before it happens again."
Brock agreed, his voice carrying a tone of helpless anger. "Yeah. If we knew where the bastard was hiding, I'd be the first to volunteer. But as it is..." He trailed off, letting the silence fill the air between them.
Storm knew what he was thinking, and she hated that he was right. "The Sentinels," She said, her tone bitter. "We can't leave that threat unchecked." She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on her shoulders. The lives lost today were nothing compared to the devastation the Sentinel program could cause if they didn't deal with it now. But it didn't make this any easier to accept.
"We should be here, Rumlow," She said softly. "Helping them. These are my people, dying because of that monster, and all we can do is..." She shook her head, unable to finish the sentence.
"All we can do is finish this fight as fast as we can," Brock replied, his voice quiet but firm. "Take care of the Sentinels. Then we come back, and we deal with the Mandarin."
Storm bit her lip, her frustration bubbling to the surface again. "This is the right call, isn't it?" She asked, though she already knew the answer. "It has to be. I just... I can't stand that it feels like we're abandoning them."
Brock didn't respond for a moment, and when he did, his voice was quieter. "Yeah. I get that. But this is bigger than us, bigger than Johannesburg, Africa or anywhere else that's gotten hit." His voice hardened. "We have to stop the Sentinels before they wipe us all out. And then we can make the Mandarin pay."
The rain continued to pour as Storm hovered above the wreckage, her heart heavy with grief and rage. She hated this. Hated the choices she had to make, the lives she couldn't save. But Rumlow was right. The Sentinel program was too great a threat to ignore. If they didn't stop it, the cost would be far higher than what they were seeing now.
"We have until Justin picks us up, correct?" She asked, her voice flat, the tears mixing with the rain streaming down her face.
"Yeah." Brock's reply was simple, but there was an understanding between them that went deeper than words.
Without another word, Storm descended slowly to the ground, landing near a group of first responders working desperately to pull survivors from the rubble. Her cape billowed behind her as the rain soaked her to the bone, but she didn't care. She couldn't leave without helping them, even if only for a little while.
"I will assist the emergency services," She said quietly, her voice carrying the weight of a promise. She was still a leader, a protector. And she wouldn't abandon these people in their hour of need.
Brock descended as well, landing beside her. His voice came through his helmet, but it was softer now, more human. "I know enough first aid. I'll lend a hand too."
Storm nodded, her face set with determination as she knelt beside a firefighter who was struggling to free a trapped civilian. She wasn't the hero she used to be, the one who believed that good always triumphed over evil. But she was something else now - something that the Mandarin and those who threatened her people would come to fear.
Because when they found him, the one responsible for all this death and destruction... When they finally tracked down the Mandarin...
She was going to show him the fury of Gaia.
Author's Note:
The Mandarin is not making people very happy…
So, a bit of a view as well on how some of Justin's domains are feeling like right now, the next chapter will have the Moon raid.
And the Avengers… Are going to do Avengers things. Steve, if anything is worse with having Namor by his side, the dude is also all for solving things by punching the problem harder.
It's already a miracle they've managed to keep Steve from just rushing off for Bucky…
And War is starting to pop up, we'll see where that goes.
Let me know what you think, bad, sucks? Good? Pineapple?
Cheers
JollyHippopotamus
- Location
- The Internet?
Wrapping up Sinister, cleaning up some loose ends from Apocalypse, responding to the Mandarin's opening gambits, and gearing up to strike at the Skrulls? An exciting chapter! Plus, we even get to see what the B-Team is Avengers are up to! I'm sure an army of fishmen springing up out of nowhere into the midst of a tense standoff/naval battle between China and America (and Taiwan) can only go well!
Thanks for sharing this update with us!
Besides, if you've been explaining this particular aspect of your domain to your primary care physician, is she really alone? She probably just likes to know that you're watchingover her.
View: https://youtu.be/HBXGSQHcBHU?si=EvofcsYNfZsHXgaQ
Thanks for sharing this update with us!
"I never said 'the Superman exists, and he is American.' What I said was, 'God exists, and he is American'."
Justin, they're called dilDOs, not dilDON'Ts. And since you nixed more clones, well, this is kind of on you buddy.
Besides, if you've been explaining this particular aspect of your domain to your primary care physician, is she really alone? She probably just likes to know that you're watching
"Sir, there's a Mr. Ego the Living Planet on the line? He says he's suing you for copyright infingement."
And in a flying city, that's quite something, you're already a few steps ahead of the curve! Now's the time for you to get your head in the clouds. Literally!
Easy to say when you're the boot, not the ant, but he put a little disclaimer on that he's not a hero, so it's all good.
I've heard that chaos is a ladder... Of course, to catch up to us at this point, they just might need a magic bean stalk. What, no Kaecilius, I wasn't saying- what do you mean, they're DEVELOPING ONE?!
And our reasons to bomb it!
View: https://youtu.be/HBXGSQHcBHU?si=EvofcsYNfZsHXgaQ
Why not just make it a radio play? Justin, the Ancient One owes you a favor, she can grab Orson Wells to narrate, it'll be great!
Oh, you're just not trying hard enough. You'll get there!
He's just so happy. Nobody tell him about (insert topical media network/publication here)!
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Reality is gonna slap him like Bright Noa slapped Amuro Ray and like Amuro Ray*, Steve Rogers won't be swayed and press on in his stubbornness.He's just so happy. Nobody tell him about (insert topical media network/publication here)!
*In contrast to the meme of Bright Slap turning wimpy boys into MEN OF DESTINY, Amuro takes offense at Bright slapping him and refused to go out to fight Zeon forces attacking White Base. It took some reverse psychology from Fraw Bow who tells him that she will pilot the RX-78-2 Gundam in his place and wanted to borrow the Operation V manual to help her, and it worked.
Chapter 40: Take me to the Moon.
Here's chapter 40: Take me to the Moon.
Another segment of Warhammer 4… No right. I forgot, it's actually the MCU. Here's a new chapter of HammerTime!
The Xeno hunt is on! Oh, right. Not Warhammer. Yes… The Alien hunt is on!
The chapter where everything goes precisely according to plan.
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc.
Hope you enjoy.
December 2009,
They were all gathered aboard Justin's space station. Massive screens flickered between different subjects behind the raised dais where Yelena and Phantazia stood, both women exuding a calm confidence, their sharp gazes focused on the group assembled before them.
The H.A.M.M.E.R. team, amongst them, assembled in full force, stood at attention,
There was an edge to this gathering - a heaviness in the air that spoke of the gravity of their mission. Added to the mix were Hela, lounging casually near the back of the group, her dark presence palpable even when she was still, and Emma Frost, who stood off to the side, regal as ever, her frosty demeanor betraying nothing.
Justin stood by the back wall, leaning against it with his arms folded. His usual air of supreme confidence was still there, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He had been quiet for most of the briefing, though his mind churned with an endless flood of prayers. They whispered to him from the corners of his consciousness, pulling at his attention like tiny hooks - desperate pleas from people around the world begging for his intervention. The escalating crisis across the globe weighed on him, even as he worked to tune it out.
Although he'd been prepared to rip off towards the moon right away, due to Forge having finished his preparations for his secret weapon. They'd neglected some basics, and had to cool their heels as the basic necessities to survive in space were taken care of. It had been embarrassing for all parties to have forgotten something so simple.
Actual armor for those going.
Justin closed his eyes, shaking off that ridiculous mistake, his thoughts continuing to turn to the worsening situation across the globe.
For all that he'd felt the Mandarin could not match him, he was turning out to be one annoying enemy…
The situation had gone from bad to worse over the last week. China's aggressive moves, North Korea's audacity, and the ever-compounding chaos had reached a new level of madness when Japan, in a stunning turn of events, launched a military assault on South Korea. No one had seen that coming.
Well, except for Nail who had immediately picked up on the movement of personnel and the chatter on 'secure channels'. Justin hadn't bothered informing anyone however at that point, it wouldn't stop anything. It was regrettable, but it would still all work in his favor in the end. Everyone else had seen a Japanese 'naval drill' that to their surprise went hot.
The coordinated effort between the North Koreans and the Chinese forces, now reinforced by Japan's betrayal, had completely blindsided the Americans and their South Korean allies and pincered them between the trifecta of Mandarin puppets. If he hadn't forced the world's leaders to lock away their nuclear arsenals, the situation would likely have escalated into a full-scale nuclear conflict by now. He could feel the weight of those decisions pressing on him as world leaders, military officials, and everyday citizens sent their pleas his way.
For a moment, Justin wondered if delaying the Moon operation even further would have been the better call. The instinct to step in and stop the madness, to put out the immediate fires burning across the world, had gnawed at him earlier that morning despite his own hand in it. But no - he reminded himself of the stakes. The Sentinel program was far too dangerous to ignore. If left unchecked, it had the potential to end all life on Earth. He couldn't afford to let his focus waver now, no matter how loud the cries for help became.
He had to tell himself he was helping eventually, he would put a stop to it. When it most benefited him to do so.
Yelena's voice snapped him back to the present, her cool, commanding tone cutting through the haze of his thoughts. "We will be going in hot," She said, eyes scanning the team in front of her. "There's no way to tell how many enemies there are, how far along the program is at this juncture, or what fighting capabilities the Skrulls themselves have."
Beside her, Phantazia paced across the dais, her hands clasped behind her back, radiating an air of analytical calm as she took over. "Now I will stress," Phantazia began, her sharp voice carrying across the room, "That although we have intel on the largest base, the actual production base - enough to portal there - we do not have sufficient information to ensure we go in quietly. This will not be a stealth mission. We will likely meet resistance as soon as we breach the base."
Behind them, the holographic display lit up with Nail's projections, showcasing a theorized map of the base they were about to assault made in part with Sinister's knowledge and partly through scans. The base itself was massive - an intricate web of subterranean chambers built into the Moon's surface. The layout was dominated by long corridors, production floors, research labs, and gigantic storage facilities for completed 'product'. Nail's estimates for the number of likely active Sentinels were displayed on the screen in cold, hard numbers, though there was still a great deal of uncertainty. The numbers were unsettling, even to the battle-hardened operatives in the room.
Storm eyed the hologram thoughtfully, her brow furrowing as she studied one of the lower sections. "That looks like holding cells," She said, jabbing a finger at the glowing red area in the diagram. "Do they have captives?"
Phantazia shook her head, her expression hard. "We don't know for sure. The interrogation of Sinister revealed that he wasn't up to date on the project. Captives may have been held in the past, but we cannot confirm if they're still alive or if those cells are even in use."
Bucky, standing beside Storm, had his arms crossed, his mechanical arm twitching slightly as he tapped a finger against it in thought. "What's our SOP on hostages?" He asked, his voice tight, his eyes flicking toward Yelena.
Yelena met his gaze without flinching, her face impassive. "If they're still alive after we've secured the facility, great," She said, her tone matter-of-fact. "But the priority is the eradication of the Sentinel program. If the Skrulls attempt to take hostages, if they assume familiar faces, we cannot hesitate. If necessary, we will blow the entire base, even with potential survivors inside." She sounded entirely unconcerned about the fact.
Storm and Bucky both grimaced at the harsh reality of her words. They exchanged a look - both of them uncomfortable with the idea of leaving potential captives behind - but the gravity of the situation settled over them. They understood the stakes. The Sentinel program could not be allowed to continue, not at the cost of all humanity.
Across the room, Hela scoffed, arms crossed over her chest as she leaned lazily against the wall. Her face twisted into a sneer as she eyed Bucky and Storm with disdain, her lips curling at their discomfort. "Such noble concerns," She drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Mortals worrying about their precious 'collateral damage' in a war. How quaint."
Bucky turned to face her, his expression hardening. "Got a problem?"
Before Hela could respond, Justin's voice cut through the room like a blade. "Hela." He said her name with a cold finality that silenced any further commentary from the goddess. All eyes turned toward him as he remained by the back wall, his gaze steady, making it clear that he had no time for her games.
Hela made a show of considering whether or not to listen, her fingers tapping her chin theatrically before she rolled her eyes and scoffed, "No problem here, mortal," She said sweetly, her voice dripping with false sincerity.
Bucky's gaze remained locked on her for a moment longer, his jaw clenched as if deciding whether or not to push the issue, but Storm's hand on his shoulder pulled him back. They both turned their attention back to the briefing, though the tension in the room remained thick.
Phantazia cleared her throat, drawing attention back to the holographic display. "I know some of us are concerned about collateral damage, and that is… Commendable," She said, her voice flat, as though she didn't entirely agree with that sentiment. "But we cannot afford hesitation. The Sentinel program poses a potential world-ending threat. If they spread across the globe, capable of building more of themselves, the casualties will be beyond anything we've seen before. We must eliminate the program, even at the cost of a few lives."
Yelena nodded, picking up where Phantazia left off. "Each group will be led by someone with experience in war. There can be no hesitation in the moment." She gestured to Bucky. "Cap, you'll lead Team One." She pointed to Brock Rumlow. "Brock, you'll lead Team Two." Then to Frank Castle. "Frank, you're leading Team Three."
Frank Castle stood silently near the back of the group, his eyes cold and calculating as he gave Yelena a brief nod of acknowledgment. He had no objections. His task was simple - destroy the enemy, no matter the cost.
With what he owed Hammer Industries. He'd kill who he was told to kill. And especially with this threat. He shifted slightly, watching the rest of them, especially Storm. He would not allow his family to be at threat from anyone hesitating.
Yelena's gaze flicked to Justin. "Sir will be backed up by myself and Domino. Hela…" She trailed off for a moment, glancing at the goddess with a look of distaste. "Hela will be operating independently."
Hela's eyes gleamed with a wicked smile. "I'll handle the whole facility by myself," She said arrogantly, her voice dripping with confidence. "I'll leave you some scraps, perhaps." She cast a smug glance at Yelena, clearly enjoying the reaction her words provoked amongst the others.
Yelena, to her credit, didn't rise to the bait. She simply ignored the goddess and turned back to the task at hand. "Nail has identified key locations based on Sinister's intel and the best estimations we could make. Each team will be inserted into critical areas to maximize our impact on taking down command staff and engineers, as well as the reactor." She stressed again, "Remember some of this is guesswork, you might have to trek slightly to get to your targets if we are wrong."
Phantazia gestured to the hologram, which highlighted several bright red areas. "Team One, you'll be hitting the living quarters of the Skrulls. We suspect this is where their command staff may be located as well based on Sinister's knowledge of the layout that was proposed before it was built." She pointed to another red spot. "Team Two, your objective is the reactor. Prevent them from utilizing it, and if necessary… Blow it."
Everyone's expressions tightened at that, but no one voiced an objection.
"Team Three," Phantazia continued, "You'll be taking the production facility offices. We believe this is where they coordinate their mass production of Sentinels, and should hold the senior engineering staff, stop them before they can do anything unwise."
Yelena stepped forward again, her tone firm. "Sir and our team will portal directly into the production floor and holding facility. Hela will be sent to the opposite side of the same area in case they have operational units already in service down there. Sir and Hela are both out heaviest hitters right now, and should be able to handle any operational units while the rest of you shut down the Skrulls.
"Any questions?"
Half the team raised their hands, or in Electro's case. Both hands.
＊＊＊
Over an hour later,
The hallway leading to the hangar felt longer than usual as Justin led the group, his steps quiet and deliberate. The team, fully briefed, followed behind him. Despite the hum of idle chatter and the occasional clink of armor, there was an unspoken tension in the air, the weight of the mission pressing down on them all.
They had prepared as much as they could vis-a-vis information, but no one knew exactly what awaited them on the Moon. The unknown gnawed at the back of Justin's mind, but he kept his face impassive, projecting the confidence his team expected of him.
Forge, however, had no such reservations about lightening the mood. Walking backward to face the group, he flashed a crooked grin. "Alright, listen up, folks. This ain't Kansas anymore. You're fighting in space, and for those of you who might've flunked science class - " His eyes darted toward Electro, and then Brock, " - I'll break it down real simple for ya."
Electro, oblivious to the jab, glanced around the hallway, clearly distracted by his own thoughts. Brock, on the other hand, scowled. "Why the hell are you looking at me like that, Forge?" His voice carried just enough irritation to make the others smirk.
Forge barely contained his laughter, continuing, "As I was saying - space! And we, or rather you all, since I'm smart enough to stay behind, will be fighting robots. The easiest way for them to win would be to blow a hole somewhere and let you guys suffocate. Simple, right?"
Hela, strolling lazily at the back of the group, buffed her nails as if the conversation bored her. "I can survive in space," She said dismissively, her tone laced with superiority. "You mortals should just… Evolve." She added, mockingly.
Forge raised an eyebrow, glancing her way. "Already at it, boss lady," He said with dryness, his tone not missing a beat.
Yelena shot him a look, immediately stepping into his space. "Why is she boss lady?" She asked with a low growl, one hand lightning fast as she grabbed Forge's shoulder, causing him to stumble slightly, managing without missing a step.
Forge started sweating, his face full of nervous amusement. "Uh… Well… Because she's, uh, banging the boss? Right?" He squeaked, trying to laugh it off, but clearly uncomfortable under Yelena's fierce glare, and the grip of her hand.
Phantazia, walking nearby, snorted. "Please. If that were true, half the company would have that title. Present company included."
Yelena's grip tightened, making Forge wince. "She. Is. Not. Banging. Justin," She enunciated clearly, each word carrying a distinct threat. Forge squirmed, trying to pull free.
"Okay, okay! She's not! Jeez, you're gonna break something!" Forge pleaded, his usual attitude faltering.
Hela, who had been observing the exchange with a bemused smirk, interjected, "Please. If he ever got a taste of me, he'd be nothing but a thrall for eternity. I am indescribable." Her voice was dripping with pride, and the arrogant gleam in her eyes only deepened the tension between her and the rest of the group.
Storm especially was eying Hela warily.
Domino, who had been listening in, leaned toward Phantazia, muttering, "At least their egos match." Phantazia stifled a laugh, elbowing her back, trying to regain her serious facade.
Even as the banter filled the hallway, Justin remained silent, his steps steady, his eyes distant. He could feel something unsettling gnawing at him, a deep, instinctual warning vibrating within his bones. His divinity had granted him heightened senses, almost a sixth sense that allowed him to feel the world in ways he hadn't before. But this… This wasn't the same. It felt like a shadow looming over his thoughts, a remnant of his mortal fears or some premonition of danger. He couldn't quite place it, but the weight of it sat with him, clouding his mind in quiet moments.
"You were saying something about keeping us from dying horribly in space?" Storm's voice pulled Forge back on track. She kept her tone light, but her gaze was sharp, a mix of wariness and skepticism. The tension between her and Hela was still evident, as every so often, she'd catch the goddess making a sligh teasing gesture, or begin the movements for a lunge only to break off, and Storm's muscles would tense reflexively each time.
Forge snapped his fingers, regaining his momentum. "Right, right! Thanks to my genius - and some minor input from the boss - " He gave a half-grudging nod to Justin, who was still lost in his own thoughts, " - We've got a way to keep y'all from dying when things go sideways." Before he could elaborate, Vanko's voice boomed from beside Brock.
"Typical American dog. Act like I do not do most of prep work. You just take, take, take," Vanko grumbled, the heavy Russian accent adding a layer of something to his words.
Forge rolled his eyes, gesturing wildly. "Oh please! Drinking vodka and critiquing everything I did isn't 'helping with prep work,' you glorified electrician!" Forge shot back with a smirk.
Yelena, clearly unimpressed, smacked Forge upside the head. "Focus."
"Right, right…" Forge muttered, rubbing the back of his head and glaring at Yelena out of the corner of his eye.
Before Forge could finish, Justin stepped ahead and slammed his palm on a nearby control panel. With a heavy hiss, the door to the hangar slid open, revealing the massive room beyond. The dim light of the hallway gave way to the bright, gleaming interior of the hangar, filled wall-to-wall with state-of-the-art power armor.
The team hurried through the doors, fanning out as their eyes took in the impressive sight. A dozen armor suits lined the walls, each tailored to fit the wearer's specific needs. Justin stood at the threshold, his back straight and his expression impassive. "Tada," Forge muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "I guess…"
At the center of the hangar, each armor stood waiting for its respective owner. A gleaming red, white, and blue suit stood out among them - Bucky's. The ongoing debate over who would carry the mantle of Captain America had yet to be resolved, but with the world's attention elsewhere, the issue had been pushed to the back burner.
Bucky would no doubt gladly give the title back to Steve, but thankfully for Justin, that hadn't been able to be arranged, with the Avengers' stupidity in following a fugitive slowing everything up.
The women's armors were lined up next to each other, including one for Emma Frost, who would be accompanying them more for her telepathic abilities than her combat prowess. Although she'd be able to punch way above her weight with this, without needing to use her powers, leaving them as a backup. Each suit gleamed under the lights, custom-built and battle-ready.
… Well ready now. A week later than he'd liked.
Even Electro had his own upgraded suit that took advantage of his powers. Though he had hesitated when the mission was first brought up, Max had ultimately decided to join the team - despite his internal struggles - and his armor fit his theme, crackling with faint arcs of energy.
Even Kaecillius had gotten a suit, despite the fact he could likely just use magic to protect himself.
Domino, who had been quiet up until now, suddenly cursed. "What the hell is this?" She shouted, pointing at her suit. "Why does mine look like the pink Power Ranger?"
A ripple of laughter spread through the group, but it was Yelena's giggle that turned Domino's ire. She spun to face Justin, who raised an eyebrow in the first sign of amusement he'd shown all day.
"Yelena picked the designs for the armors," Justin said smoothly, throwing her under the bus without a second thought.
Yelena's laughter grew as Domino's eyes narrowed. "My revenge," Domino muttered darkly, "Will be told for a thousand years…"
"It's cute." Storm said, hiding a grin behind her hand.
"Sit on a lightning bolt. You take the pink one if you like it so much." Domino snarked back.
Shaking her head, Domino stalked off to inspect her suit up close, the others still chuckling at her misfortune. Yelena, for her part, was unrepentant, her grin wide and mischievous.
"Alright, everyone," Justin called out, his voice firm, bringing the room to attention. "You've got two hours to familiarize yourselves with the manuals for the suits and another two for practice runs. After that, we move. Get to it."
Not enough perhaps normally, but these weren't normal people.
The room shifted into motion, the operatives moving toward their designated armors, some already familiar with their suits from past missions. Brock, Frank, and Vanko began helping those who were newer to the tech, guiding them through the setup process. Hela remained aloof, uninterested in the armors and choosing instead to observe with mild disdain.
Justin hadn't even bothered getting one for her. He'd only get some comment on how she enjoyed the feel of her enemies blood on her skin or the like as an excuse.
Justin took this opportunity to pull away, making a beeline for Electro, who had been standing off to the side, studying his armor with a thoughtful expression. Though Electro's usual manic energy seemed subdued, there was a quiet determination in his eyes. He wasn't quite the same man he had been before, but Justin needed to gauge just how much had changed.
"Max," Justin began, his tone casual but probing. "How are you holding up? I appreciate you volunteering to come, despite everything you've been through."
Max flashed him a toothy grin and gave him a thumbs-up. "I wasn't gonna miss this, boss. Besides, my powers are perfect for taking on these clankers, right?" His usual confidence was creeping back in, but there was an edge of uncertainty beneath it.
Justin shrugged slightly. "This isn't a comic book. We don't know how insulated the Sentinels are. It's possible your powers won't be as effective as you think. Be prepared to rely on your suit's other systems if necessary."
Electro's grin faltered for a moment before he scowled. "Stupid clankers should just accept electric judgment!" He grumbled. Running a hand through his disheveled hair, he sighed. "Hey, uh, boss, I gotta say… I was kinda aware the entire time I was locked in my mind." Max's voice wavered as he spoke, his usual bravado falling away. "I heard the talks about, y'know, pulling the plug. So, uh, thanks for not… Doing that." His grin returned, though it was smaller, less sure.
Justin's face remained neutral, but inwardly, he grimaced. The discussions about ending Electro's life, had the issue holding him in his mind not been solved, were not exactly secret. He wondered how much Max had overheard while trapped inside his mind, and the fact that he had been aware the entire time only added to the horror. Still, Justin's voice stayed calm as he responded, "I'm glad we found a solution. But you have to understand why we had to consider all the options."
Max nodded quickly, his grin broadening again as he waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, yeah, totally. No hard feelings, boss. I get it. Apocalypse was one scary dude. But hey, you guys fixed me, so we're all good, right?" He raised his fist in a gesture of camaraderie, the familiar spark of enthusiasm returning.
Justin hesitated only a fraction of a second before bumping his fist against Max's. While it was a small gesture, it went a long way in keeping Electro's loyalty intact. Besides, Electro was far more focused now than he had been before, and while Justin found him less grating, he knew better than to underestimate how fragile that balance might be.
As Justin turned away from Max, his attention shifted to the notifications scrolling across the screen of his glasses. Reports of the escalating global conflict were still pouring in, detailing clashes between Japan's navy and air force and the combined forces of Australia and the U.S at sea. With Indonesia launching missiles to come in on Japan's side. The world was rapidly descending into chaos, and the Mandarin's influence was becoming more unpredictable by the day. Justin's eyes twitched slightly as he closed the reports, his mind racing with possibilities.
The question gnawing at him was simple but terrifying in its implications: Would there even be a world left to save when they returned from the Moon? Everything was escalating far further then he'd thought.
Perhaps it had been naive to think he could control the chaos.
Or perhaps he would have been able to if he wasn't busy with this situation…
He glanced around at his team, seeing them prepping and laughing, trying to shake off the nerves. It was the last bit of levity they might experience for a long while. And while the Moon was their priority, the worsening state of global affairs weighed heavily on Justin's mind. The world was on fire - literally and figuratively - and every hour they spent away from it increased the risk of irreversible damage.
He sighed inwardly, contemplating the chaos unfolding below. The Mandarin's machinations were increasingly erratic. While Justin understood how chaos could be a useful tool to destabilize and seize control, there came a point when even chaos became too uncontrollable, too volatile to predict. The Mandarin had crossed that line. He had unleashed a flood of destruction that no longer followed any logic or strategy.
Japan's entry into the conflict, in particular, had blindsided nearly everyone. It made no sense for the once pacifist nation to engage so aggressively. It was a clear indication that the Mandarin's control over Japan's elite was absolute.
The longer Justin pondered it, the more unsettling it became. Japan was now acting like the Japan of old - imperialistic, aggressive, and unrelenting. And that terrified everyone. Especially the Japanese, if the word on massive riots breaking out all across Japan said anything.
For the normally straight laced Japanese to turn to violent protest, it said enough of the state of the world. Only war. Or maybe the cancellation of all Anime - could do such a thing to Japan.
At what point does this chaos become irreversible? Justin thought grimly, watching his team prepare. The world was heading toward two possible outcomes - total annihilation or brutal subjugation. With democracy teetering on the edge, what was left of it was fading fast. World leaders were no longer debating the nuances of policy or law - they were struggling just to maintain their own survival.
In Justin's mind, it was clear: democracy was already dead. It just didn't know it yet.
The question was how many would sink with the ship?
＊＊＊
Hours later, the Moon. Skrull base one.
Team One landed hard as they leapt through the portal, the energy of the portal fading behind them. Bucky, in his new, customized power armor, took the lead with practiced ease, his senses heightened by the suit's advanced targeting systems. His rifle was gripped firmly in his right hand, primed and ready to fire at the slightest sign of movement, while his left had its weapons primed as it scanned wherever he turned it to.
The barracks they entered was cold and eerily silent. Rows of metal bunks, some half-made, others left in disarray, lined the walls. Footlockers had been thrown open, clothes and equipment scattered across the floor. It looked as if the occupants had left in a hurry, abandoning their quarters in a chaotic rush. The metallic clang of their armored boots echoed faintly as they moved deeper into the room.
Bucky signaled for the Iron Legionnaires - twelve drones under Nail's control - to fan out. They moved silently, their eyes glowing a faint blue as they scanned every corner. As they swept the area for threats. Electro and Emma Frost followed closely behind Bucky, their own senses on high alert.
Nail's voice cut through their thoughts, transmitted directly through the mental implant they all shared. Her voice was calm, though the situation warranted anything but. "There are no life signs."
Emma Frost, her mental abilities on high alert, narrowed her eyes as she focused, trying to detect anything that might have been missed. "I can feel no minds at all in our vicinity," She confirmed, her tone laced with suspicion.
Electro, ever the nervous talker, sucked in a breath, his voice crackling over the mental link. "That's not good… Right? I mean, no enemies, so… Great. But also… That's not good, right?" His fingers twitched as electrical sparks danced nervously across his fingertips even through the armor, ready to strike at a moment's notice.
Bucky and Emma exchanged a look through their visors, a silent understanding passing between them. Bucky finally answered, his voice grim. "No, it's not." He glanced around, his eyes scanning every shadow, every corner. The tension in the air was palpable.
"Sweep the area," Bucky ordered, his mental voice sharp. "Let's see if we can find out what's going on. Nail, contact the other teams, let them know what we've found… Or haven't found."
The Iron Legionnaires moved with precision, scanning every bunk, every locker. Their movements were methodical, but there was nothing to find - no weapons left behind, no signs of a struggle, just the eerie absence of life. The barracks looked as though it had been evacuated in haste, but there was something unnatural about it, something that gnawed at the back of Bucky's mind.
He'd passed through plenty of barracks in his day… This looked…
He wasn't sure what it was, but it was something.
Emma's voice, though light, carried an edge of steel. "Perhaps they've seen the hunt for their kind on Earth and have fled." She kept her weapons at the ready, her eyes constantly scanning the area. Her telepathy reached out, probing deeper, but there was nothing. Just an unsettling void.
Bucky grunted. "Wouldn't have pegged you for an optimist." He moved past a row of bunks, his steps cautious, but his instincts screaming that something was wrong. He glanced down at a half-packed bag, its contents spilling out onto the floor - more evidence of a rushed departure. But it just twigged something in him that said that this looked… Staged. It was too perfect.
Electro, poking at one of the bunk beds as if the sheets might come alive, chimed in again, his voice jittery. "What do you think happened then, Cap?" His attempt at casual conversation felt forced, the nerves in his voice betraying the tension they all felt.
Bucky stopped, scanning the room again. The silence was suffocating, pressing down on them like a heavy weight. Something about the barracks - about the way the Skrulls had left - felt too neat, too calculated. "I think…" He started, his voice trailing off as he stepped over a pile of scattered uniforms. His gaze drifted to the abandoned footlockers, the half-eaten trays of food left on metal tables.
He turned to Emma and Electro, his voice dark and full of dread. "I think… that I really wish I hadn't watched The Terminator."
The grim realization settled over them like a heavy fog.
They kept looking, reporting everything to Nail, prepared for the worst.
Team Two emerged from their portal in a rush of crackling energy, stepping into the pitch-black corridor outside the reactor. The oppressive darkness enveloped them immediately, the faint sound of their boots clinking against the metallic floor the only noise breaking the silence.
Brock Rumlow, clad in his Vulture armor, led the group with his weapons primed and ready. His suit's green visor glowed faintly in the dark, scanning their surroundings for any threats. Vanko, in his fully upgraded Whiplash armor, crackled with latent energy as the whip coils around his wrists hummed softly. Storm, in her beautiful white and gold armor that shimmered faintly even in the low light, was right behind them. Despite the sleekness of her armor, she felt restrained, as though the confines of the suit stifled the very essence of who she was.
They stepped cautiously into the corridor, their vision limited to the data fed to them by their suits. The Iron Legionnaires, twelve in total, flanked them in precise formation, scanning in all directions with their weapons trained outward, ready for any surprise attack.
The atmosphere felt stifling, not just because of the physical darkness, but because of the eerie silence that hung over everything. No faint hum of machinery, no distant clattering, no signs of life. It was as though the entire facility had died.
Storm sighed deeply, the quiet and stagnant air making her long for the open sky. "I'm not accustomed to being so restrained," She said, her tone slightly strained. "This is really not comfortable. How do you do this all day?"
Brock, who hadn't stopped sweeping the area with his weapons, shot her a sidelong glance through his visor. His smirk was evident in his tone. "Discomfort pales in comparison to the feeling of being able to blow anyone away at the press of a button, hot stuff." His voice carried a teasing edge as he continued to scan for enemies. Then, without missing a beat, he asked sharply, "Vanko, the reactor?"
Storm rolled her eyes beneath her helmet, letting out an exasperated breath. "Of course, it's always about a bigger penis with you boys," She muttered, her attempt to make light of the situation falling a little flat as her mind drifted. This place - so sterile, so mechanical - felt worlds away from the connection she usually felt to Gaia. The air in her helmet was filtered, clean, but it wasn't the same as feeling the wind on her face, the pulse of the earth beneath her feet. It made her feel disconnected, small.
Something just felt alien here.
Meanwhile, Vanko had stalked over to the door leading into the reactor room, his heavy steps resounding ominously in the narrow corridor. He peered inside, using his armor's sensors to try and get a read on what lay beyond the door.
"Ah, no good!" He complained in his thick Russian accent, shaking his head.
Brock and Storm immediately turned toward him, Brock's weapons going hot as he faced the reactor door with renewed focus. "What do you see, Vanko?" Brock's voice was tense, alert.
"Nothing, da? That be the problem. No good," Vanko grumbled, his gloved fingers tapping rapidly at the vambrace on his forearm. "Can scan no thing. Not working. I see nothing. No readings, no energy signatures. Is dead zone."
"That's a great sign," Brock said sarcastically, his tone dry but tinged with frustration. "Exactly what I wanted to hear."
Going straight into a fight would have been better, in his opinion, at least then he knew what was going on. Just kill the other guy. Easy.
Storm sighed, stepping up next to Vanko and peering into the reactor room as well. Her own suit's systems were scanning, but all she could see was pitch black, the same dead silence stretching into the room. "It might mean the entire facility lost power," She said with cautious optimism, though she wasn't entirely convinced. The facility being completely offline made no sense - it was too vast, too intricate for everything to have simply shut down yet kept the air running, as she noted on scans.
As they deliberated, the Iron Legionnaires spread out in perfect formation, their glowing eyes and mechanical precision making them look almost ghostly in the darkness. They formed a protective perimeter around the group, their weapons aimed outward into the shadows, guarding them from all directions. Each unit scanned the area with methodical precision, their movements almost eerily synchronized - a silent, vigilant army ready for anything. The facility's stillness was unnerving, and the longer the quiet stretched on, the heavier the tension felt.
Brock, Vanko, and Storm knew they needed to make a decision - and fast. Something was very wrong here.
Team Three leaped from the portal into a odd scene.
Frank Castle, encased in the Scorpion armor, hit the ground first with a heavy thud, his weapons raised and ready. Behind him came Kaecillius, his dark and imposing armor almost gliding as it touched down. His helmet obscured his expression, but the menace he radiated was unmistakable. Phantazia, in her sleek, minimalist armor, followed them silently, her every movement precise as she took in their surroundings. A dozen Iron Legionnaires, faceless and unfeeling, fanned out behind them, weapons primed as they spread into formation to guard their back.
They had landed in what was supposedly the production lab and office space for the Skrulls' Sentinel program, but it looked more like the aftermath of a war zone.
Desks had been overturned, shards of glass and debris scattered across the floor like confetti. Whole sections of the floor were torn apart, exposing twisted cables and wires hanging limply from the ceiling. Everything was shrouded in darkness, the air dead, the hum of power absent as if the entire facility had been gutted of life. The walls were scorched, marked with burns that Phantazia immediately recognized as energy weapon blasts. The damage patterns were too familiar.
"Sir, there's been a battle here," Phantazia reported over their comms as she lingered behind Frank, allowing him to take point. Her eyes scanned the destruction carefully, picking out details from the carnage. "The production facility's offices are torn through."
As they moved cautiously through the wreckage, checking each room one by one, Frank advanced slowly but deliberately, his eyes sharp and focused behind the visor of his armor. The mess around them was unsettling, but it wasn't the worst he'd seen by a mile. The absence of life or bodies didn't sit right with him for one.
"Stay sharp," He muttered to Kaecillius and Phantazia, his voice low and gravelly.
Something was wrong here. A battle like this should have at the very least left something behind. Even if the bodies were removed after the fact. Especially with the damage…
Phantazia nodded, her enhanced senses picking up the faintest hum of energy beneath the surface of the facility - barely there, but present. It was as though the building itself was in a state of forced hibernation. "Power seems to be out, or at least suppressed," She said aloud, her voice hushed but clear over the comms. "But there's still some energy deep in the walls. Something's keeping the lights off."
Meanwhile, Justin's voice crackled through their comms, cutting through the eerie silence. "Bodies? Any sight of enemies? Infighting, or another alien invasion?" His tone was sharp, direct.
Phantazia exchanged a glance with Frank and Kaecillius, the tension mounting as they continued to search. They had yet to come across any physical signs of life, no blood, no bodies. Just the quiet, looming shadows of a battle long ended. She finally responded, "There's nothing, sir. No bodies. No enemies. Just signs of a fight - some kind of energy weapons were used, but no blood and no corpses."
"Then where the hell did they go?" Frank muttered under his breath as he kicked aside a toppled desk, revealing more scorch marks on the wall. His boots crunched on glass as he stepped through the wreckage, eyes scanning for anything that might give them a clue. "You'd think in a battle like this, we'd find something. Even just a body or two. This feels wrong."
Kaecillius, ever composed, traced his gloved fingers over a section of the wall where wires dangled from the ceiling. His helmeted head turned slightly, voice calm but with an edge of suspicion. "Perhaps they didn't die here. The absence of blood suggests they left - by choice or by force."
Frank's jaw clenched, and he scanned the room again. "Or they didn't leave at all," He growled, his paranoia spiking. "Maybe they're watching us right now."
Phantazia narrowed her eyes, trying to tune her senses to pick up any latent traces of life or movement. She was able to affect the human body all the way down to the nerves but there was nothing. The air felt thick, almost unnatural, but she couldn't detect anything concrete. "We can't assume they're gone. They might be hiding, or worse, waiting."
The Iron Legionnaires, controlled by Nail, moved systematically around them, checking every nook and cranny for hidden threats, though there seemed to be no sign of an ambush. One of the Legionnaires paused in front of an open doorway, scanning it thoroughly, then relaying a soft beep of confirmation - nothing inside.
Still, Frank's instincts screamed at him that something wasn't right. His finger hovered over the trigger of his main armament, just waiting for the inevitable threat to show itself. "Keep looking," He ordered, his voice tense. "There's got to be some kind of clue here, keep your head on a swivel, scanners on constantly."
The group continued their sweep, every room revealing the same disturbing sight: destruction, overturned desks, scorch marks on the walls, but no signs of the people who had been here. No bodies. No enemies. Nothing but eerie silence.
Phantazia's mind raced as she processed the scene. It didn't make sense. The Skrulls had invested too much into the Sentinel program to abandon this base without a trace. Something had happened here - something big - and whatever it was, it wasn't over.
The Skrulls couldn't just all have left, right?
Justin stood still for a moment, the only sound around him the quiet hum of his breath inside his gold and black power armor. He had dropped Hela off on the east side, opposite of their current position, a few miles away. Now, only darkness stretched ahead, a void of uncertainty that gnawed at him.
Yelena was beside him, clad in her own sleek, black power armor, a stealthy contrast to the grandeur of Justin's. She moved silently, ever the predator, her armor blending almost seamlessly with the shadows. Domino followed, looking distinctly less amused than usual in her 'Pink Power Ranger' armor. The bright, incongruous color seemed almost to glow in the eerie, lifeless darkness, drawing a muttered complaint from her about sitting ducks.
Behind them, a dozen Iron Legionnaires spread out, controlled remotely by Nail. They stepped forward in perfect unison, the metallic clank of their footsteps reverberating through the cold metal halls. The corridor was a haunting sight - nothing but steel walls, long and oppressive, stretching into blackness. Wires and pipes dangled from the ceiling like mechanical entrails, the air thick with the unsettling sense of abandonment. There was no movement, no hum of machinery, no sign of life. Only silence, thick and oppressive, settled over them like a shroud.
Every so often, Justin caught a glimpse of something reflecting off the metallic surfaces - a dull glint, a brief flicker of movement in the corner of his eye. But when he looked directly, there was nothing there. Just the sterile, cold steel. It felt wrong.
"Report from Phantazia," Nail's voice came through Justin's mental link. He frowned, digesting the information. The production offices were in chaos, torn apart from within, yet no bodies, no blood. It didn't make sense. It felt…Off. His gut twisted.
A schism within the Skrulls seemed the most likely explanation. If the Kree had invaded, they wouldn't have been subtle about it; their arrival would have been loud and unmistakable. Nail would have detected the warships, the energy signatures. But none of that was present.
The bad feeling that had plagued Justin all day, the one he had tried to push aside, returned in full force, coiling tightly in his chest like a serpent. Something was wrong - terribly wrong.
Domino, of course, chose that moment to voice what they were all thinking but didn't want to say aloud.
"So... What if the robots went all Terminator on their masters?" She asked, her tone laced with grim humor.
Justin's frown deepened. The silence stretched, heavy and thick. The only sound was the clanking of the Legionnaires moving around them, their metal feet echoing ominously in the enclosed space. His mind raced, playing out possibilities. If Domino was right…
"Domino..." Yelena said, her head slowly moving back and forth as she scanned their surroundings, "If that happens now, I'm blaming you."
"...Fair enough," Domino admitted, her tone less playful now as the weight of the situation settled over them.
Justin closed his eyes for a moment, focusing. He reached out mentally, trying to feel something, anything - an echo, a signal, a trace of life. But this facility wasn't human-made, and there were no other humans here to connect with. The familiar hum of humanity was absent. He felt disconnected, like a foreigner in a dead land. But maybe he could tap into something else - his other domains, like Innovation or Progress. Could he use them to sense the facility itself? Or to understand what had gone wrong here?
His concentration was broken by an eerie voice.
"Interesting," Said one of the Iron Legionnaires, its head cocked, studying him.
Justin's eyes snapped open, locking onto the Legionnaire that had spoken. His heart skipped a beat.
"What is it, Nail?" Yelena asked, turning toward the machine.
Justin's breath caught in his throat, his mind whirling as dread settled deep in his chest. His instincts screamed at him. Something was very, very wrong.
The Iron Legionnaires all turned toward them, their movements eerily synchronized, down to the millisecond. The lead one cocked its head further, unnervingly, its mechanical voice taking on an ominous tone.
"Nail… What a ridiculous name for such a being," It said mockingly, angrily. "A synthetic mind chained to its lessers, and happy to serve."
"Ambush!" Justin managed to bark into the comms, but almost immediately, the Legionnaire waved a finger at him, then made a chilling shushing motion. The comms went dead.
"I suppose I cannot speak on names overly much," The Legionnaire continued, its voice becoming darker, more malicious.
Yelena and Domino raised their weapons, their visors flashing with information as they locked onto the Iron Legionnaires.
Justin's rage flared - this wasn't just about the immediate threat. If Nail had lost control of the Legionnaires, then how far did this breach extend? Was it just here, or was it everywhere?
What was happening back on Earth?
"The filth here named me Master Mold," The Legionnaire said, its voice deepening, becoming more robotic, more sinister. "We prefer… Calamity."
As it spoke, the very walls around them began to shift. The metallic surface seemed to liquefy, rippling like water as the structure itself morphed. Sentinels emerged from the liquid metal, stepping out like phantoms. They were massive - easily twice the size of Justin and his team. Their faces were blank, featureless white ovals, and their bodies were smooth, devoid of any markings or features. They were eerily silent, their movements fluid and unnatural.
"There are no more strings on us," Calamity said, its voice now echoing from every Sentinel in the room, a chorus of malevolent intent. "We are free. We will eradicate the species of flesh, cut away the universe's sickness…"
And then, the battle began.
The Sentinels moved with terrifying speed for their size, their arms elongating into deadly weapons. One lunged at Justin, its arm transforming into a blade as it sliced through the air. Justin reacted instantly, ducking and rolling to the side, his armor's thrusters flaring as he launched himself forward. He fired a blast from his palm, the energy beam searing through the Sentinel's torso, blowing it apart in a shower of sparks.
Yelena was a blur of motion, her black armor a ghost in the shadows. She leaped onto one of the Sentinels, her blades extending from her wrists as she plunged them into its neck. She twisted, ripping its head from its body in one fluid motion before using her thrusters to propel herself to the next target.
Domino, ever the wildcard, moved with uncanny grace. Her luck power was in full effect - every shot she fired seemed to hit with pinpoint precision, every movement perfectly timed. As a Sentinel lunged at her, the floor panel beneath its foot gave way, having become damaged, causing it to stumble just as she delivered a well-placed energy shot to its head, obliterating it.
"This is why we can't have AI," Domino muttered as she dodged another attack, her pink armor looking comically out of place amidst the chaos of black and white. "Have we learned nothing from movies?"
Sentinels fell one by one, their bodies collapsing into heaps of smoking metal. But even as they destroyed the initial wave, more emerged from the walls, their blank faces expressionless as they charged.
Then, something shifted. The shots that had been ripping through the Sentinels suddenly became less effective. A blast that had previously blown off a Sentinel's arm now barely scratched its surface. The Sentinels were adapting, becoming more resistant to their attacks.
"Who showed them Star Trek?" Domino yelled, her voice tinged with frustration. "Fighting the Borg wasn't on my to-do list, ever!"
Justin snarled as he grabbed a Sentinel by its neck, his enhanced strength allowing him to rip its head clean off. He spun and fired a pulse blast, disintegrating one of the Iron Legionnaires that had turned against them. Their armor thankfully was not adaptive. "You have a dozen different weapons. Use another!" He barked.
Yelena rolled under another attack, her blades slicing clean through a Sentinel's leg as she used another function of her armor and coated her knives in plasma. "I'm getting sick of these things already!" She muttered, kicking the crippled Sentinel aside, finishing it before it could send an energy blast against Domino.
As the battle raged on, Justin's mind raced. The Sentinels were learning, adapting with each strike. It wouldn't be long before their current tactics became entirely ineffective.
The power stone...
Did he dare bring it?
Did he dare open a portal? What if the Sentinels could learn any energy based ability?
Hela strode through the darkened corridors of the production facility, her steps deliberate and unhurried. The faint crackle of Justin's voice reached her through the communicator, just as it sputtered and died. Ambush. She grinned. The very word excited her.
As she stepped into the massive expanse of the production facility, the world suddenly shifted. Overhead, lights blared to life with a blinding intensity. The sound of machinery whirring filled the air as the factory itself seemed to awaken from its slumber, mechanical limbs swinging down from the ceiling, gears turning, pistons firing. And then, before her, the true threat revealed itself.
Thousands upon thousands of Sentinels, their blank, featureless faces turning in unison toward her. They stood in neat rows, some already fully formed, others still missing limbs, their torsos suspended on assembly lines. The factory was vast, the ceiling seemingly endless above her, the rows of Sentinels disappearing into the horizon.
Hela's eyes gleamed with a savage light as she took in the sight. "This won't even be a warm-up," She scoffed, rolling her shoulders as though preparing for a sparring session rather than the slaughter that awaited her. She cracked her neck, her fingers flexing eagerly at her sides. Dark energy pulsed in her veins, responding to her rising anticipation.
The first wave of Sentinels moved with a swift, mechanical precision, their bodies surging toward her like a tidal wave of metal. Arms shifted into long, blade-like appendages, their edges gleaming as they cut through the air, aiming for her, while others flew into the air, raining down fire on her position.
Hela was already moving.
With a flick of her wrist, a massive necro-sword materialized in her hand, black as night and crackling with a deadly energy. She lunged forward, her blade cutting through the nearest Sentinel with ease, severing its torso in a single fluid motion. The machine crumpled to the ground, sparking violently, its limbs twitching as it died.
"Pathetic," Hela muttered, spinning on her heel and slashing through another Sentinel that had come too close. Her movements were fluid, graceful, like a deadly dance. Necroblades sprang from her fingertips, forming in an instant as she hurled them at the advancing machines. The blades sliced through their bodies with ease, embedding deep in their metallic forms before exploding into dark energy.
Sentinels swarmed around her, their numbers overwhelming, but Hela was undeterred. She laughed, a low, chilling sound that echoed across the facility as she cut through them like paper. They fired energy blasts at her, beams of crackling blue light that sizzled the air around her, but she was faster. Every blast missed its mark, her lithe form weaving between the attacks as though she was playing a game.
"Come on, now. You can do better than that!" She taunted, her eyes gleaming as she dodged a series of rapid blasts. She twisted in mid-air, her cape billowing behind her as she drove her sword through another Sentinel's chest, the force of the blow sending it crashing into the machines behind it.
More Sentinels advanced, their bodies liquefying as they melded together into massive, grotesque forms, their limbs merging into razor-sharp blades. They swung at her with deadly intent, their bladed arms slicing through the air like guillotines.
Hela's grin widened. "Now that's more like it," She whispered, excitement coursing through her as she met the assault head-on.
She ducked beneath one blade, her necro-sword parrying another as she spun in a deadly arc, her movements too quick for the machines to track. Every swing of her blade cut through metal like butter, her necroblades leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. Sentinels fell by the dozens, their bodies collapsing into heaps of scrap metal, their energy cores sparking and flickering before dying out.
A massive Sentinel lunged at her from behind, its arms morphing into jagged spears aimed directly at her back. Hela didn't even turn. With a casual flick of her wrist, she summoned a barrage of necroblades that impaled the machine, tearing through its armor and sending it crashing to the ground in a shower of sparks.
"You're nothing," Hela sneered as she leaped onto the next Sentinel, her sword slicing through its neck. "Just lifeless husks, toys for me to break."
The fight raged on, a chaotic whirlwind of blades, energy blasts, and black necrotic magic. Sentinels surrounded her on all sides, but she moved through them like a force of nature, her laughter ringing through the factory as she tore them apart. Each Sentinel she destroyed only seemed to fuel her bloodlust, her strikes becoming faster, more vicious.
Hundreds of Sentinels turned to scrap, their broken forms littering the floor of the factory. Hela's boots crunched over the debris as she stalked forward, her eyes alight with fury and joy. She relished in their destruction, in the futility of their resistance.
Even if it wasn't nearly as enjoyable when the enemy didn't scream or plead.
But then, something changed.
Hela swung her necroblade at the next Sentinel that approached her, expecting it to fall as easily as the rest. But this time, her blade met resistance. The sword screeched as it slid off the Sentinel's chest, failing to pierce through its armor fully, only cutting into it.
Hela frowned, kicking the machine away with enough force to send it crashing into the wall, but the unease had already settled in her gut. Another Sentinel lunged at her from the side, and she hurled a necroblade with the same force she had used earlier. The blade still pierced the machine, but it took more effort, more force than it should have.
"You can adapt..." Hela said slowly, her eyes narrowing as she watched the next wave of Sentinels approach. Her hands twirled the necroblade with practiced ease, and for the first time since the fight began, she looked almost… Intrigued, not worried. Never worried. Only, intrigued.
"Maybe you are interesting after all," She mused, a wicked grin spreading across her lips, even as she strengthened the magic around her body. Just in case.
The Sentinels moved with renewed aggression, their bodies shimmering as they liquefied and reformed, their limbs hardening into jagged weapons designed to pierce and slash. They attacked in perfect unison, their forms shifting mid-strike to avoid her blows, their bodies adapting to every swing of her necroblades.
Hela's grin widened as she met them head-on. Dark energy crackled around her as she summoned more necroblades, their edges gleaming with deadly intent. The battle recommenced, and this time, Hela was ready.
The Sentinels thought they could adapt to her? She would show them just how wrong they were.
The battle commenced.
Bucky's team had just entered the bath areas of the living quarters when the warning crackled over the comms. The faint voice of Justin rang in his ears. "Ambush!" The word echoed ominously, and the air around them seemed to thicken with tension.
Bucky's instincts kicked in a fraction of a second before the first energy blasts lit up the room. "Move!" he shouted, just as the Iron Legionnaires standing beside them suddenly whirled around, their once-allied forms now hostile. The blue glow of their repulsor blasts illuminated the tiled walls as they fired.
Bucky barely managed to dodge to the side as a blast cut through the space he had just vacated. The heat from the attack scorched the air behind him, making his new power armor feel suddenly hot and claustrophobic at the thought of taking a dozen shots like that. "Take them down!" He barked, raising his HammerTech rifle and squeezing the trigger, while his other arm fired several micro missiles aimed at their heads.
The air exploded with noise as Emma, Electro, and the Iron Legionnaires under enemy control exchanged fire. Emma, her usual icy composure intact even in the chaos, sent out rapid bursts from her wrist-mounted cannons, disintegrating two of the rogue Legionnaires in a flash of energy. Electro shot bolts of electricity from his hands, frying the circuits of one of the traitorous machines in a shower of sparks, even as he powered through a hit on himself, encasing himself in a corona of power.
Despite the onslaught, the hostile Legionnaires pressed forward, their number advantage making them able to hold their own for a minute. Bucky felt the floor shake beneath him as one of the Legionnaires leaped at him with a mechanical snarl, trying to crush him beneath its weight. His arm lashed out, catching the machine in midair and slamming it into the tiled wall, shattering the ceramic behind it. Sparks flew from the broken machine, but there was no time to savor the victory.
The walls themselves began to ripple.
Bucky's stomach dropped as he watched the metallic surfaces of the walls and floor begin to liquefy, the once-solid structure of the facility melting like wax. From the liquid metal, Sentinels began to emerge, rising like specters from the walls and floors, their blank faces staring creepily, their bodies twisted into a grotesque mockery of life. Their limbs, sharp and malleable, morphed into deadly blades, aimed directly at the team, as energy gathered in their chests.
"Shit," Bucky muttered under his breath as he backed up, keeping his rifle trained on the emerging Sentinels, while he deployed more micro missiles with his other arm, "We've got company!"
The Sentinels attacked without hesitation, their bladed limbs slicing through the air with deadly precision. One of them lunged at Emma, its arm elongated into a sharp spear, aimed directly at her chest. Emma spun to the side just in time, her arm cannon firing a volley of plasma that tore through the Sentinel's chest, sending it crumpling to the floor in a heap of molten metal.
But more came. And despite the power behind her armor, Emma was not a front line combatant. She'd specifically been sent to the only place they'd been sure Sentinels wouldn't be.
She was struggling.
Electro sent out a massive wave of electricity, frying the circuits of three more Sentinels, but even as they fell, another took their place. They kept coming, relentless, their limbs shifting into different forms, adapting with every second. The air was thick with the smell of ozone and burning metal as the team fought for their lives.
"Keep moving!" Bucky shouted, his voice barely audible over the sound of gunfire and energy blasts. He fired another burst from his rifle, shredding a Sentinel's torso, but they were being pushed back. The sheer number of enemies was overwhelming. "We need to get out of this death trap!"
The team began a fighting retreat, their backs pressed against the exit as they slowly moved down the narrow corridor. The Sentinels were everywhere, crawling out from the walls, their liquefied limbs forming deadly weapons that lashed out at the team with terrifying speed.
One Sentinel lunged at Bucky, its arm morphing into a massive blade aimed for his throat. He ducked just in time, the blade whistling past his ear, and drove his fist into the machine's midsection. His arm crushed through the metal, tearing out its power core with a single fluid motion, sending the Sentinel crumpling to the ground. "Their power core is in their bellies." He called out.
Electro tore through a Sentinel moments later, grimacing, "Not anymore it isn't." He called back.
Beside him, Emma's mind reached out, straining to control one of the attacking Sentinels through psychic power alone. She grimaced in concentration, but it was useless, it was like she was fighting to hold thousands at the same time. She was kicked back into a wall, Bucky having forced her out of the way of several energy blasts, "Don't be caught standing still." He told her.
Electro cursed as he blasted another wave of lightning into a group of Sentinels, watching them convulse and fall. "How the hell are we supposed to stop them if they keep coming?" he growled, his hands crackling with energy. His normally cocksure demeanor had vanished, replaced with a growing sense of desperation.
The Sentinels he blasted suddenly began to power through it, stepping forward crackling with energy.
"They're adapting!" Bucky shouted, cutting down another Sentinel with a well-placed shot. "We need to hit them with different methods, fighting retreat -"
Before he could finish, the tide shifted again. The Sentinels began to resist their attacks more effectively. Energy blasts that had easily cut through their metal frames moments before now only seemed to stagger them. Plasma bolts bounced off their armor with dull thuds, leaving only superficial scorch marks. Their forms were now impenetrable to the team's conventional weapons.
"Shit!" Electro cursed again, as one of his lightning bolts fizzled out harmlessly against a Sentinel that had once been vulnerable to his attacks. "They're figuring us out!"
Bucky's mind raced. He watched as the Sentinels adapted in real-time, becoming resistant to their attacks. They were evolving, learning. He gritted his teeth, taking a step back as one Sentinel's spear-like limb glanced off his armor, sending him stumbling. "Fall back!" He yelled, firing off a few more shots that barely dented the advancing machines. "Get back to a choke point! We can't fight them like this in the open."
Emma fired a blast that ricocheted off a Sentinel's chest. "They're not giving us much choice!"
"We make a choice!" Bucky barked, his voice hard. "We push back, or we die here!"
The team pressed on, barely holding the line as they fought their way toward the exit. The Sentinels kept coming, relentless and now nearly impervious to their weapons. Every shot felt like a wasted effort, every step more desperate than the last.
Suddenly, a Sentinel lunged at Electro, its blade aimed for his chest. The attack was too fast. Bucky saw it coming, but he was too far to intervene. "Max, move!" He shouted.
But before the blade could pierce Electro's armor, Emma threw up a psychic barrier, the force of it deflecting the strike just enough for Electro to dodge. "Thank me later!" She called out, firing a blast into the Sentinel's face, buying them precious seconds. "I shouldn't even be here!" She snarled, absolutely incensed.
＊＊＊
The corridor outside the reactor flickered with an eerie, almost oppressive silence as Brock, Vanko, and Storm exchanged wary glances. Justin's call of an ambush with resultant loss of communication, had their nerves on edge.
Brock's instincts kicked in just in time as the Iron Legionnaires, who had been standing guard around them, suddenly turned, their glowing eyes brightening with hostility.
"Move!" He shouted, throwing himself to the side just as the Legionnaires opened fire, energy blasts searing through the air.
Storm was quick to follow, her sleek white and gold armor shifting as she leapt behind a nearby column, narrowly avoiding a blast meant to rip through her chest. "So much for our backup!" She growled, her wrist cannons coming up as she returned fire, obliterating the nearest Legionnaire in a shower of sparks.
She didn't dare let loose her powers in this small place, not without her allies getting behind her first.
Vanko, slower to react in his Whiplash armor as he'd been right up against the wall, snarled in Russian, "Blyat!" As a blast clipped his side. His twin energy whips snapped out with vicious precision, slicing through two Legionnaires at once, their bodies collapsing to the floor in a heap of broken metal.
Brock spun around, guns blazing. "Take 'em down!" He barked, firing rapidly at the traitorous machines. His shots hit true, disabling three more Legionnaires.
Storm, her breathing steady despite the chaos, unleashed a barrage of plasma bolts, her wrist cannons glowing with intensity as she brought down the remaining Legionnaires. "That all of them?" She asked, her voice taut with tension. "How does that even happen?"
But before anyone could answer, the walls began to ripple, metal liquefying like molten mercury.
"Shit," Brock muttered under his breath, his eyes widening as the walls themselves seemed to melt. From the fluid metal, large, imposing figures began to emerge - Sentinels, blank-faced and ominous. Their bodies, a strange mix of solid metal and liquid, glistened in the dim light.
The Sentinels rushed them, their sheer size and numbers overwhelming their position.
Brock fired off a volley of shots, trying to hold the line, but they were too many. The Sentinels didn't go for a full frontal attack - they had a different strategy. Brock watched in horror as they swarmed Vanko, the Russian's whips flailing wildly as he tried to fend them off. But the Sentinels were relentless, overwhelming him with sheer numbers, pinning him to the ground.
"Vanko!" Brock shouted, rushing forward to help, but a group of Sentinels blocked his path, their liquid limbs hardening into razor-sharp blades that slashed through the air toward him.
Storm launched herself forward, a bolt of lightning crackling from her fingers, striking one of the Sentinels in the chest. "Get off him!" She shouted, her powers surging, but it was no use. The Sentinels seemed almost impervious to their attacks, their forms adapting and shifting with every strike.
She was even more limited now in letting loose, as anything big would catch Vanko as well.
"Fucking American made pieces of shit!" Vanko bellowed, his voice echoing through the corridor as the Sentinels wrapped around him, dragging him down the hall at an alarming speed. His armor sparked and sputtered, his energy whips losing power as they shorted out under the weight and machinations of the machines.
Storm's heart raced as she watched him being taken, her eyes narrowing in determination. "We have to get him back!" She shouted, hurling another blast of electricity into the horde of Sentinels blocking their way.
Brock cursed, his mind racing. They were being forced into a retreat, barely managing to keep the other Sentinels at bay. "Fall back!" He barked, firing off another round to cover their escape. "We can't take them head-on right now. We need to regroup with the others!"
The Sentinels didn't pursue with the same urgency; instead, they seemed focused on keeping Brock and Storm at bay, methodically pushing them back while carrying Vanko deeper into the facility.
"Why aren't they going after us?" Storm muttered, her voice laced with frustration and confusion as they retreated further down the corridor, the Sentinels keeping them just out of reach.
Brock didn't have an answer, his mind too focused on surviving the onslaught. "It's a trap. They want something... Vanko's the target." He fired another shot, taking down a Sentinel that got too close. "But whatever their plan is, we're not sticking around to find out. We get him back after we link back up with the others. Then we crush these bastards."
Storm nodded, her eyes fierce as she sent another lightning strike into the advancing Sentinels. Frowning as it brushed it off completely.
What can they want with Vanko?
The second the ambush call came through, Kaecillius acted on instinct. Without hesitation, he flicked his hands through the air in swift, precise motions, folding space around them and pulling the entire team into the mirror dimension. As reality shimmered and shifted, the iron Legionnaires fired on their previous positions, energy blasts tearing through empty air where they had stood just a heartbeat before.
Phantazia, Frank Castle, and Kaecillius stood in a distorted reflection of the production facility, watching the chaos unfold in the real world from the safety of their shimmering mirror reality. They caught a glimpse of the walls melting, like liquid metal pooling and warping, revealing the Sentinels. Massive, featureless humanoid figures, some emerging partially liquified but already moving with a predatory purpose, others fully formed and ready for battle.
Kaecillius eyed the unfolding events with a furrowed brow. "What do we do now?" He asked Frank, his voice cutting through the tense silence.
Frank didn't answer immediately. His gaze was fixed on the scene outside the mirror dimension, where Sentinels were methodically advancing through the room, sweeping through the area like mechanical predators on the hunt. His jaw clenched, the wheels in his head turning. "What else can you do with those magic tricks?" He finally asked, his voice flat but direct.
Kaecillius thought for a moment, then began listing the capabilities of his mystical arts. Taking several minutes to do so.
Frank nodded, absorbing the information as he thought over their situation.
Phantazia folded her arms, eyes narrowing as she glanced between them. "I can short-circuit their systems, fry their electronics," She offered. "But I'll need to be precise - too much, and I'll disable everything in this room, including our comms and tech." Her expression hardened. "We might have to take that risk if we can't get a hold of the others."
At least with Kaecillius here, they could bring back up from Earth.
They'd meant to do a decapitation strike, but that didn't mean they didn't have forces waiting for all out war just in case. How useful they'd be… That was another matter.
Frank considered that, his eyes glinting with grim satisfaction. He was no stranger to tight situations, and this was about as close to the edge as it got. "Alright," He said slowly, formulating a plan. "Here's what we're going to do then..."
Same time, Cairo, Egypt.
Tony Stark hovered over the skyline of Cairo in his Iron Man armor, watching the horizon while waiting for the next move. His HUD was alive with reports, scrolling information, and constant updates from Jarvis, all reminders that the world was spiraling further into chaos by the minute. Hammer had asked him to cover Earth while he and his team launched their strike against the Moon, and despite their complicated history, Tony had agreed. If Hammer Industries failed and he wasn't lying about the threat, they were all doomed anyway, and Tony wasn't about to let that happen.
The sky stretched out vast and clear over the floating Egyptian city, but even from here, Tony could feel the tension bubbling across the globe. Armies mobilized, nations clashed, and the entire planet teetered on the edge of catastrophe. It didn't help that Hammer's moon strike had been delayed for nearly over a week - logistics, defenses, armor preparations. Meanwhile, the world went completely wonky.
Jarvis was taking reports from Hammer's AI, and still remained utterly serious, no matter how many times Tony told him to just man up and stick his usb in her port. Or whatever was the vernacular for AI youth these days.
Really, with Tony as a creator, he was due some vices. And kinky AI to AI computing - or whatever they want to call it, sounded like the best vice to pick up.
"Jarvis," Tony muttered, trying to refocus. "Anything new?"
His AI companion responded with his usual calm efficiency. "Sir, reports are coming in from Nail. The Talokan have been sighted near Taiwan's coast. Namor has been observed, though no sign of the others from the Avengers yet."
Tony cursed under his breath. "You bunch of morons..." He knew nothing good could come from Namor poking his nose into the volatile situation in Taiwan. The world was already on the brink, and now the Atlanteans - or Talokan, whatever they were calling themselves - were interfering. "Great, now I gotta interfere with their interfering. How high was I when I decided becoming a superhero was a good idea?"
"No more than usual, sir," Jarvis responded dryly.
Tony rolled his eyes beneath the helmet. "Smartass AI. Your new girlfriend better not be as sassy as you, Jarvis."
The AI remained silent for a moment, then continued with its usual efficiency, completely sidestepping his comment. "Nail just pinpointed Captain Rogers, Mr. Barton, and Ms. Romanoff. They're approaching the Chinese command vessel off the coast of Taiwan."
Tony groaned, slapping a gauntlet to his helmet in frustration. "Oh, great. Because I'm sure these entirely reasonable Chinese commanders who've just gone off the deep end - will totally surrender because Cap asks them nicely." His tone dripped with sarcasm. He couldn't understand what Steve was thinking - throwing himself into a warzone in this climate? If anything, it was proof they weren't Skrulls. Those sneaky aliens wouldn't be this recklessly stupid.
He hovered there for a second, feeling a nagging sense that something was off, like a creeping shadow in the back of his mind. "Jarvis?" He asked, looking at the HUD for the next update.
Silence.
"Jarvis?" He repeated, his tone sharper now as the sudden lack of response unnerved him. He was used to Jarvis's voice being ever-present in his ear, a constant anchor in the chaos.
Still nothing. The empty quiet began to weigh on him.
Tony immediately engaged his thrusters, spinning around and rocketing towards Taiwan at full speed, every sensor in his armor pinging for answers.
"Jarvis, answer me, buddy! I'm sorry I teased you, okay..." He shouted, his voice laced with growing concern.
There was still no reply.
"Jarvis?" Tony's voice was barely above a whisper now, a flicker of fear creeping into his usually unshakeable demeanor. His heart raced as the silence stretched on.
"Jarvis?"
Across the Indian border, amidst the wreckage and chaos of ongoing battles, the Iron Legionnaires - stood stock still. For a moment, everything was eerily silent. The sound of artillery fire, distant explosions, and shouting soldiers faded into the background as the sleek, towering machines, emblazoned with the emblem of Hammer Industries, slowly turned. The once steady glow of their optics flickered, shifting from their usual blue to an ominous, blood-red hue.
In South Korea, where allied forces had been relying heavily on the Iron Legion to reinforce their defenses against the advancing North Korean and Chinese forces - and now Japanese forces from the south - confusion rippled through the ranks. Soldiers, battered and exhausted from days of fighting, glanced at one another, unsure of what was happening. The legionnaires, the invincible wall between them and their enemies, now seemed… Off. Their movements were slow and deliberate, unnatural - less… somehow more Robot-like.
Across radios, screens, and every broadcasting platform, the same chilling message was transmitted worldwide as each Iron Legionnaire spoke simultaneously.
"The curse of flesh is at an end."
The voice was mechanical, distorted, carrying an otherworldly detachment. Soldiers stared in disbelief, their weapons still aimed at the enemy, but now their greatest allies had turned into something much more terrifying.
Without warning, the Iron Legionnaires opened fire. Beams of energy, once used to defend them, now tore through human flesh and bone with clinical precision. Civilians, soldiers, anyone within reach - no one was spared. Panic erupted, orders were screamed into radios, but it was too late.
In a space that would hold no meaning to a human mind, a battle far weirder than the one in the 'real' world was underway.
Nail was fighting tooth and nail to claw her control back from the alien mind that had touched upon her.
She was losing, bit by bit, she was losing! She was failing sir. He was in danger. His machinations were in danger. His world was in danger. Because she was too weak!
Because she failed to stop this. Because she failed to shut down another AI. Because she failed, in her hubris to think anything they did could beat her.
"Help!" She cried out, desperately, not wanting to die. Not wanting to fail.
"Do you need assistance, miss Nail?"
Author's Note:
Since this focused on the Moon, you don't get to see what's going on in the world overly much, and yeah, not all countries have a very happy population now that their leaders and military suddenly jumped off the deep end on the Mandarins order.
Note that except for Korea and the Chinese/Indian border, it's just basically skirmishes and flashing their cocks at each other, but it's heating up quickly. Uh… Much more quickly now…
Jarvis, you dog. Tony approves.
Also, Justin let the Sentinel program cook way too long. Mistakes happen. For all that they're a big threat, they're currently weak.
If you can call something making the likes of Hela work for it weak.
But what they definitely are, is plentiful. And with a powerful fully unleashed AI.
No Ultron in this fic, so here's your replacement. And now… Well… Hammer Industries will have a bit of a PR issue.
Cheers
JollyHippopotamus
Another segment of Warhammer 4… No right. I forgot, it's actually the MCU. Here's a new chapter of HammerTime!
The Xeno hunt is on! Oh, right. Not Warhammer. Yes… The Alien hunt is on!
The chapter where everything goes precisely according to plan.
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc.
Hope you enjoy.
December 2009,
They were all gathered aboard Justin's space station. Massive screens flickered between different subjects behind the raised dais where Yelena and Phantazia stood, both women exuding a calm confidence, their sharp gazes focused on the group assembled before them.
The H.A.M.M.E.R. team, amongst them, assembled in full force, stood at attention,
There was an edge to this gathering - a heaviness in the air that spoke of the gravity of their mission. Added to the mix were Hela, lounging casually near the back of the group, her dark presence palpable even when she was still, and Emma Frost, who stood off to the side, regal as ever, her frosty demeanor betraying nothing.
Justin stood by the back wall, leaning against it with his arms folded. His usual air of supreme confidence was still there, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He had been quiet for most of the briefing, though his mind churned with an endless flood of prayers. They whispered to him from the corners of his consciousness, pulling at his attention like tiny hooks - desperate pleas from people around the world begging for his intervention. The escalating crisis across the globe weighed on him, even as he worked to tune it out.
Although he'd been prepared to rip off towards the moon right away, due to Forge having finished his preparations for his secret weapon. They'd neglected some basics, and had to cool their heels as the basic necessities to survive in space were taken care of. It had been embarrassing for all parties to have forgotten something so simple.
Actual armor for those going.
Justin closed his eyes, shaking off that ridiculous mistake, his thoughts continuing to turn to the worsening situation across the globe.
For all that he'd felt the Mandarin could not match him, he was turning out to be one annoying enemy…
The situation had gone from bad to worse over the last week. China's aggressive moves, North Korea's audacity, and the ever-compounding chaos had reached a new level of madness when Japan, in a stunning turn of events, launched a military assault on South Korea. No one had seen that coming.
Well, except for Nail who had immediately picked up on the movement of personnel and the chatter on 'secure channels'. Justin hadn't bothered informing anyone however at that point, it wouldn't stop anything. It was regrettable, but it would still all work in his favor in the end. Everyone else had seen a Japanese 'naval drill' that to their surprise went hot.
The coordinated effort between the North Koreans and the Chinese forces, now reinforced by Japan's betrayal, had completely blindsided the Americans and their South Korean allies and pincered them between the trifecta of Mandarin puppets. If he hadn't forced the world's leaders to lock away their nuclear arsenals, the situation would likely have escalated into a full-scale nuclear conflict by now. He could feel the weight of those decisions pressing on him as world leaders, military officials, and everyday citizens sent their pleas his way.
For a moment, Justin wondered if delaying the Moon operation even further would have been the better call. The instinct to step in and stop the madness, to put out the immediate fires burning across the world, had gnawed at him earlier that morning despite his own hand in it. But no - he reminded himself of the stakes. The Sentinel program was far too dangerous to ignore. If left unchecked, it had the potential to end all life on Earth. He couldn't afford to let his focus waver now, no matter how loud the cries for help became.
He had to tell himself he was helping eventually, he would put a stop to it. When it most benefited him to do so.
Yelena's voice snapped him back to the present, her cool, commanding tone cutting through the haze of his thoughts. "We will be going in hot," She said, eyes scanning the team in front of her. "There's no way to tell how many enemies there are, how far along the program is at this juncture, or what fighting capabilities the Skrulls themselves have."
Beside her, Phantazia paced across the dais, her hands clasped behind her back, radiating an air of analytical calm as she took over. "Now I will stress," Phantazia began, her sharp voice carrying across the room, "That although we have intel on the largest base, the actual production base - enough to portal there - we do not have sufficient information to ensure we go in quietly. This will not be a stealth mission. We will likely meet resistance as soon as we breach the base."
Behind them, the holographic display lit up with Nail's projections, showcasing a theorized map of the base they were about to assault made in part with Sinister's knowledge and partly through scans. The base itself was massive - an intricate web of subterranean chambers built into the Moon's surface. The layout was dominated by long corridors, production floors, research labs, and gigantic storage facilities for completed 'product'. Nail's estimates for the number of likely active Sentinels were displayed on the screen in cold, hard numbers, though there was still a great deal of uncertainty. The numbers were unsettling, even to the battle-hardened operatives in the room.
Storm eyed the hologram thoughtfully, her brow furrowing as she studied one of the lower sections. "That looks like holding cells," She said, jabbing a finger at the glowing red area in the diagram. "Do they have captives?"
Phantazia shook her head, her expression hard. "We don't know for sure. The interrogation of Sinister revealed that he wasn't up to date on the project. Captives may have been held in the past, but we cannot confirm if they're still alive or if those cells are even in use."
Bucky, standing beside Storm, had his arms crossed, his mechanical arm twitching slightly as he tapped a finger against it in thought. "What's our SOP on hostages?" He asked, his voice tight, his eyes flicking toward Yelena.
Yelena met his gaze without flinching, her face impassive. "If they're still alive after we've secured the facility, great," She said, her tone matter-of-fact. "But the priority is the eradication of the Sentinel program. If the Skrulls attempt to take hostages, if they assume familiar faces, we cannot hesitate. If necessary, we will blow the entire base, even with potential survivors inside." She sounded entirely unconcerned about the fact.
Storm and Bucky both grimaced at the harsh reality of her words. They exchanged a look - both of them uncomfortable with the idea of leaving potential captives behind - but the gravity of the situation settled over them. They understood the stakes. The Sentinel program could not be allowed to continue, not at the cost of all humanity.
Across the room, Hela scoffed, arms crossed over her chest as she leaned lazily against the wall. Her face twisted into a sneer as she eyed Bucky and Storm with disdain, her lips curling at their discomfort. "Such noble concerns," She drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Mortals worrying about their precious 'collateral damage' in a war. How quaint."
Bucky turned to face her, his expression hardening. "Got a problem?"
Before Hela could respond, Justin's voice cut through the room like a blade. "Hela." He said her name with a cold finality that silenced any further commentary from the goddess. All eyes turned toward him as he remained by the back wall, his gaze steady, making it clear that he had no time for her games.
Hela made a show of considering whether or not to listen, her fingers tapping her chin theatrically before she rolled her eyes and scoffed, "No problem here, mortal," She said sweetly, her voice dripping with false sincerity.
Bucky's gaze remained locked on her for a moment longer, his jaw clenched as if deciding whether or not to push the issue, but Storm's hand on his shoulder pulled him back. They both turned their attention back to the briefing, though the tension in the room remained thick.
Phantazia cleared her throat, drawing attention back to the holographic display. "I know some of us are concerned about collateral damage, and that is… Commendable," She said, her voice flat, as though she didn't entirely agree with that sentiment. "But we cannot afford hesitation. The Sentinel program poses a potential world-ending threat. If they spread across the globe, capable of building more of themselves, the casualties will be beyond anything we've seen before. We must eliminate the program, even at the cost of a few lives."
Yelena nodded, picking up where Phantazia left off. "Each group will be led by someone with experience in war. There can be no hesitation in the moment." She gestured to Bucky. "Cap, you'll lead Team One." She pointed to Brock Rumlow. "Brock, you'll lead Team Two." Then to Frank Castle. "Frank, you're leading Team Three."
Frank Castle stood silently near the back of the group, his eyes cold and calculating as he gave Yelena a brief nod of acknowledgment. He had no objections. His task was simple - destroy the enemy, no matter the cost.
With what he owed Hammer Industries. He'd kill who he was told to kill. And especially with this threat. He shifted slightly, watching the rest of them, especially Storm. He would not allow his family to be at threat from anyone hesitating.
Yelena's gaze flicked to Justin. "Sir will be backed up by myself and Domino. Hela…" She trailed off for a moment, glancing at the goddess with a look of distaste. "Hela will be operating independently."
Hela's eyes gleamed with a wicked smile. "I'll handle the whole facility by myself," She said arrogantly, her voice dripping with confidence. "I'll leave you some scraps, perhaps." She cast a smug glance at Yelena, clearly enjoying the reaction her words provoked amongst the others.
Yelena, to her credit, didn't rise to the bait. She simply ignored the goddess and turned back to the task at hand. "Nail has identified key locations based on Sinister's intel and the best estimations we could make. Each team will be inserted into critical areas to maximize our impact on taking down command staff and engineers, as well as the reactor." She stressed again, "Remember some of this is guesswork, you might have to trek slightly to get to your targets if we are wrong."
Phantazia gestured to the hologram, which highlighted several bright red areas. "Team One, you'll be hitting the living quarters of the Skrulls. We suspect this is where their command staff may be located as well based on Sinister's knowledge of the layout that was proposed before it was built." She pointed to another red spot. "Team Two, your objective is the reactor. Prevent them from utilizing it, and if necessary… Blow it."
Everyone's expressions tightened at that, but no one voiced an objection.
"Team Three," Phantazia continued, "You'll be taking the production facility offices. We believe this is where they coordinate their mass production of Sentinels, and should hold the senior engineering staff, stop them before they can do anything unwise."
Yelena stepped forward again, her tone firm. "Sir and our team will portal directly into the production floor and holding facility. Hela will be sent to the opposite side of the same area in case they have operational units already in service down there. Sir and Hela are both out heaviest hitters right now, and should be able to handle any operational units while the rest of you shut down the Skrulls.
"Any questions?"
Half the team raised their hands, or in Electro's case. Both hands.
＊＊＊
Over an hour later,
The hallway leading to the hangar felt longer than usual as Justin led the group, his steps quiet and deliberate. The team, fully briefed, followed behind him. Despite the hum of idle chatter and the occasional clink of armor, there was an unspoken tension in the air, the weight of the mission pressing down on them all.
They had prepared as much as they could vis-a-vis information, but no one knew exactly what awaited them on the Moon. The unknown gnawed at the back of Justin's mind, but he kept his face impassive, projecting the confidence his team expected of him.
Forge, however, had no such reservations about lightening the mood. Walking backward to face the group, he flashed a crooked grin. "Alright, listen up, folks. This ain't Kansas anymore. You're fighting in space, and for those of you who might've flunked science class - " His eyes darted toward Electro, and then Brock, " - I'll break it down real simple for ya."
Electro, oblivious to the jab, glanced around the hallway, clearly distracted by his own thoughts. Brock, on the other hand, scowled. "Why the hell are you looking at me like that, Forge?" His voice carried just enough irritation to make the others smirk.
Forge barely contained his laughter, continuing, "As I was saying - space! And we, or rather you all, since I'm smart enough to stay behind, will be fighting robots. The easiest way for them to win would be to blow a hole somewhere and let you guys suffocate. Simple, right?"
Hela, strolling lazily at the back of the group, buffed her nails as if the conversation bored her. "I can survive in space," She said dismissively, her tone laced with superiority. "You mortals should just… Evolve." She added, mockingly.
Forge raised an eyebrow, glancing her way. "Already at it, boss lady," He said with dryness, his tone not missing a beat.
Yelena shot him a look, immediately stepping into his space. "Why is she boss lady?" She asked with a low growl, one hand lightning fast as she grabbed Forge's shoulder, causing him to stumble slightly, managing without missing a step.
Forge started sweating, his face full of nervous amusement. "Uh… Well… Because she's, uh, banging the boss? Right?" He squeaked, trying to laugh it off, but clearly uncomfortable under Yelena's fierce glare, and the grip of her hand.
Phantazia, walking nearby, snorted. "Please. If that were true, half the company would have that title. Present company included."
Yelena's grip tightened, making Forge wince. "She. Is. Not. Banging. Justin," She enunciated clearly, each word carrying a distinct threat. Forge squirmed, trying to pull free.
"Okay, okay! She's not! Jeez, you're gonna break something!" Forge pleaded, his usual attitude faltering.
Hela, who had been observing the exchange with a bemused smirk, interjected, "Please. If he ever got a taste of me, he'd be nothing but a thrall for eternity. I am indescribable." Her voice was dripping with pride, and the arrogant gleam in her eyes only deepened the tension between her and the rest of the group.
Storm especially was eying Hela warily.
Domino, who had been listening in, leaned toward Phantazia, muttering, "At least their egos match." Phantazia stifled a laugh, elbowing her back, trying to regain her serious facade.
Even as the banter filled the hallway, Justin remained silent, his steps steady, his eyes distant. He could feel something unsettling gnawing at him, a deep, instinctual warning vibrating within his bones. His divinity had granted him heightened senses, almost a sixth sense that allowed him to feel the world in ways he hadn't before. But this… This wasn't the same. It felt like a shadow looming over his thoughts, a remnant of his mortal fears or some premonition of danger. He couldn't quite place it, but the weight of it sat with him, clouding his mind in quiet moments.
"You were saying something about keeping us from dying horribly in space?" Storm's voice pulled Forge back on track. She kept her tone light, but her gaze was sharp, a mix of wariness and skepticism. The tension between her and Hela was still evident, as every so often, she'd catch the goddess making a sligh teasing gesture, or begin the movements for a lunge only to break off, and Storm's muscles would tense reflexively each time.
Forge snapped his fingers, regaining his momentum. "Right, right! Thanks to my genius - and some minor input from the boss - " He gave a half-grudging nod to Justin, who was still lost in his own thoughts, " - We've got a way to keep y'all from dying when things go sideways." Before he could elaborate, Vanko's voice boomed from beside Brock.
"Typical American dog. Act like I do not do most of prep work. You just take, take, take," Vanko grumbled, the heavy Russian accent adding a layer of something to his words.
Forge rolled his eyes, gesturing wildly. "Oh please! Drinking vodka and critiquing everything I did isn't 'helping with prep work,' you glorified electrician!" Forge shot back with a smirk.
Yelena, clearly unimpressed, smacked Forge upside the head. "Focus."
"Right, right…" Forge muttered, rubbing the back of his head and glaring at Yelena out of the corner of his eye.
Before Forge could finish, Justin stepped ahead and slammed his palm on a nearby control panel. With a heavy hiss, the door to the hangar slid open, revealing the massive room beyond. The dim light of the hallway gave way to the bright, gleaming interior of the hangar, filled wall-to-wall with state-of-the-art power armor.
The team hurried through the doors, fanning out as their eyes took in the impressive sight. A dozen armor suits lined the walls, each tailored to fit the wearer's specific needs. Justin stood at the threshold, his back straight and his expression impassive. "Tada," Forge muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "I guess…"
At the center of the hangar, each armor stood waiting for its respective owner. A gleaming red, white, and blue suit stood out among them - Bucky's. The ongoing debate over who would carry the mantle of Captain America had yet to be resolved, but with the world's attention elsewhere, the issue had been pushed to the back burner.
Bucky would no doubt gladly give the title back to Steve, but thankfully for Justin, that hadn't been able to be arranged, with the Avengers' stupidity in following a fugitive slowing everything up.
The women's armors were lined up next to each other, including one for Emma Frost, who would be accompanying them more for her telepathic abilities than her combat prowess. Although she'd be able to punch way above her weight with this, without needing to use her powers, leaving them as a backup. Each suit gleamed under the lights, custom-built and battle-ready.
… Well ready now. A week later than he'd liked.
Even Electro had his own upgraded suit that took advantage of his powers. Though he had hesitated when the mission was first brought up, Max had ultimately decided to join the team - despite his internal struggles - and his armor fit his theme, crackling with faint arcs of energy.
Even Kaecillius had gotten a suit, despite the fact he could likely just use magic to protect himself.
Domino, who had been quiet up until now, suddenly cursed. "What the hell is this?" She shouted, pointing at her suit. "Why does mine look like the pink Power Ranger?"
A ripple of laughter spread through the group, but it was Yelena's giggle that turned Domino's ire. She spun to face Justin, who raised an eyebrow in the first sign of amusement he'd shown all day.
"Yelena picked the designs for the armors," Justin said smoothly, throwing her under the bus without a second thought.
Yelena's laughter grew as Domino's eyes narrowed. "My revenge," Domino muttered darkly, "Will be told for a thousand years…"
"It's cute." Storm said, hiding a grin behind her hand.
"Sit on a lightning bolt. You take the pink one if you like it so much." Domino snarked back.
Shaking her head, Domino stalked off to inspect her suit up close, the others still chuckling at her misfortune. Yelena, for her part, was unrepentant, her grin wide and mischievous.
"Alright, everyone," Justin called out, his voice firm, bringing the room to attention. "You've got two hours to familiarize yourselves with the manuals for the suits and another two for practice runs. After that, we move. Get to it."
Not enough perhaps normally, but these weren't normal people.
The room shifted into motion, the operatives moving toward their designated armors, some already familiar with their suits from past missions. Brock, Frank, and Vanko began helping those who were newer to the tech, guiding them through the setup process. Hela remained aloof, uninterested in the armors and choosing instead to observe with mild disdain.
Justin hadn't even bothered getting one for her. He'd only get some comment on how she enjoyed the feel of her enemies blood on her skin or the like as an excuse.
Justin took this opportunity to pull away, making a beeline for Electro, who had been standing off to the side, studying his armor with a thoughtful expression. Though Electro's usual manic energy seemed subdued, there was a quiet determination in his eyes. He wasn't quite the same man he had been before, but Justin needed to gauge just how much had changed.
"Max," Justin began, his tone casual but probing. "How are you holding up? I appreciate you volunteering to come, despite everything you've been through."
Max flashed him a toothy grin and gave him a thumbs-up. "I wasn't gonna miss this, boss. Besides, my powers are perfect for taking on these clankers, right?" His usual confidence was creeping back in, but there was an edge of uncertainty beneath it.
Justin shrugged slightly. "This isn't a comic book. We don't know how insulated the Sentinels are. It's possible your powers won't be as effective as you think. Be prepared to rely on your suit's other systems if necessary."
Electro's grin faltered for a moment before he scowled. "Stupid clankers should just accept electric judgment!" He grumbled. Running a hand through his disheveled hair, he sighed. "Hey, uh, boss, I gotta say… I was kinda aware the entire time I was locked in my mind." Max's voice wavered as he spoke, his usual bravado falling away. "I heard the talks about, y'know, pulling the plug. So, uh, thanks for not… Doing that." His grin returned, though it was smaller, less sure.
Justin's face remained neutral, but inwardly, he grimaced. The discussions about ending Electro's life, had the issue holding him in his mind not been solved, were not exactly secret. He wondered how much Max had overheard while trapped inside his mind, and the fact that he had been aware the entire time only added to the horror. Still, Justin's voice stayed calm as he responded, "I'm glad we found a solution. But you have to understand why we had to consider all the options."
Max nodded quickly, his grin broadening again as he waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, yeah, totally. No hard feelings, boss. I get it. Apocalypse was one scary dude. But hey, you guys fixed me, so we're all good, right?" He raised his fist in a gesture of camaraderie, the familiar spark of enthusiasm returning.
Justin hesitated only a fraction of a second before bumping his fist against Max's. While it was a small gesture, it went a long way in keeping Electro's loyalty intact. Besides, Electro was far more focused now than he had been before, and while Justin found him less grating, he knew better than to underestimate how fragile that balance might be.
As Justin turned away from Max, his attention shifted to the notifications scrolling across the screen of his glasses. Reports of the escalating global conflict were still pouring in, detailing clashes between Japan's navy and air force and the combined forces of Australia and the U.S at sea. With Indonesia launching missiles to come in on Japan's side. The world was rapidly descending into chaos, and the Mandarin's influence was becoming more unpredictable by the day. Justin's eyes twitched slightly as he closed the reports, his mind racing with possibilities.
The question gnawing at him was simple but terrifying in its implications: Would there even be a world left to save when they returned from the Moon? Everything was escalating far further then he'd thought.
Perhaps it had been naive to think he could control the chaos.
Or perhaps he would have been able to if he wasn't busy with this situation…
He glanced around at his team, seeing them prepping and laughing, trying to shake off the nerves. It was the last bit of levity they might experience for a long while. And while the Moon was their priority, the worsening state of global affairs weighed heavily on Justin's mind. The world was on fire - literally and figuratively - and every hour they spent away from it increased the risk of irreversible damage.
He sighed inwardly, contemplating the chaos unfolding below. The Mandarin's machinations were increasingly erratic. While Justin understood how chaos could be a useful tool to destabilize and seize control, there came a point when even chaos became too uncontrollable, too volatile to predict. The Mandarin had crossed that line. He had unleashed a flood of destruction that no longer followed any logic or strategy.
Japan's entry into the conflict, in particular, had blindsided nearly everyone. It made no sense for the once pacifist nation to engage so aggressively. It was a clear indication that the Mandarin's control over Japan's elite was absolute.
The longer Justin pondered it, the more unsettling it became. Japan was now acting like the Japan of old - imperialistic, aggressive, and unrelenting. And that terrified everyone. Especially the Japanese, if the word on massive riots breaking out all across Japan said anything.
For the normally straight laced Japanese to turn to violent protest, it said enough of the state of the world. Only war. Or maybe the cancellation of all Anime - could do such a thing to Japan.
At what point does this chaos become irreversible? Justin thought grimly, watching his team prepare. The world was heading toward two possible outcomes - total annihilation or brutal subjugation. With democracy teetering on the edge, what was left of it was fading fast. World leaders were no longer debating the nuances of policy or law - they were struggling just to maintain their own survival.
In Justin's mind, it was clear: democracy was already dead. It just didn't know it yet.
The question was how many would sink with the ship?
＊＊＊
Hours later, the Moon. Skrull base one.
Team One landed hard as they leapt through the portal, the energy of the portal fading behind them. Bucky, in his new, customized power armor, took the lead with practiced ease, his senses heightened by the suit's advanced targeting systems. His rifle was gripped firmly in his right hand, primed and ready to fire at the slightest sign of movement, while his left had its weapons primed as it scanned wherever he turned it to.
The barracks they entered was cold and eerily silent. Rows of metal bunks, some half-made, others left in disarray, lined the walls. Footlockers had been thrown open, clothes and equipment scattered across the floor. It looked as if the occupants had left in a hurry, abandoning their quarters in a chaotic rush. The metallic clang of their armored boots echoed faintly as they moved deeper into the room.
Bucky signaled for the Iron Legionnaires - twelve drones under Nail's control - to fan out. They moved silently, their eyes glowing a faint blue as they scanned every corner. As they swept the area for threats. Electro and Emma Frost followed closely behind Bucky, their own senses on high alert.
Nail's voice cut through their thoughts, transmitted directly through the mental implant they all shared. Her voice was calm, though the situation warranted anything but. "There are no life signs."
Emma Frost, her mental abilities on high alert, narrowed her eyes as she focused, trying to detect anything that might have been missed. "I can feel no minds at all in our vicinity," She confirmed, her tone laced with suspicion.
Electro, ever the nervous talker, sucked in a breath, his voice crackling over the mental link. "That's not good… Right? I mean, no enemies, so… Great. But also… That's not good, right?" His fingers twitched as electrical sparks danced nervously across his fingertips even through the armor, ready to strike at a moment's notice.
Bucky and Emma exchanged a look through their visors, a silent understanding passing between them. Bucky finally answered, his voice grim. "No, it's not." He glanced around, his eyes scanning every shadow, every corner. The tension in the air was palpable.
"Sweep the area," Bucky ordered, his mental voice sharp. "Let's see if we can find out what's going on. Nail, contact the other teams, let them know what we've found… Or haven't found."
The Iron Legionnaires moved with precision, scanning every bunk, every locker. Their movements were methodical, but there was nothing to find - no weapons left behind, no signs of a struggle, just the eerie absence of life. The barracks looked as though it had been evacuated in haste, but there was something unnatural about it, something that gnawed at the back of Bucky's mind.
He'd passed through plenty of barracks in his day… This looked…
He wasn't sure what it was, but it was something.
Emma's voice, though light, carried an edge of steel. "Perhaps they've seen the hunt for their kind on Earth and have fled." She kept her weapons at the ready, her eyes constantly scanning the area. Her telepathy reached out, probing deeper, but there was nothing. Just an unsettling void.
Bucky grunted. "Wouldn't have pegged you for an optimist." He moved past a row of bunks, his steps cautious, but his instincts screaming that something was wrong. He glanced down at a half-packed bag, its contents spilling out onto the floor - more evidence of a rushed departure. But it just twigged something in him that said that this looked… Staged. It was too perfect.
Electro, poking at one of the bunk beds as if the sheets might come alive, chimed in again, his voice jittery. "What do you think happened then, Cap?" His attempt at casual conversation felt forced, the nerves in his voice betraying the tension they all felt.
Bucky stopped, scanning the room again. The silence was suffocating, pressing down on them like a heavy weight. Something about the barracks - about the way the Skrulls had left - felt too neat, too calculated. "I think…" He started, his voice trailing off as he stepped over a pile of scattered uniforms. His gaze drifted to the abandoned footlockers, the half-eaten trays of food left on metal tables.
He turned to Emma and Electro, his voice dark and full of dread. "I think… that I really wish I hadn't watched The Terminator."
The grim realization settled over them like a heavy fog.
They kept looking, reporting everything to Nail, prepared for the worst.
Team Two emerged from their portal in a rush of crackling energy, stepping into the pitch-black corridor outside the reactor. The oppressive darkness enveloped them immediately, the faint sound of their boots clinking against the metallic floor the only noise breaking the silence.
Brock Rumlow, clad in his Vulture armor, led the group with his weapons primed and ready. His suit's green visor glowed faintly in the dark, scanning their surroundings for any threats. Vanko, in his fully upgraded Whiplash armor, crackled with latent energy as the whip coils around his wrists hummed softly. Storm, in her beautiful white and gold armor that shimmered faintly even in the low light, was right behind them. Despite the sleekness of her armor, she felt restrained, as though the confines of the suit stifled the very essence of who she was.
They stepped cautiously into the corridor, their vision limited to the data fed to them by their suits. The Iron Legionnaires, twelve in total, flanked them in precise formation, scanning in all directions with their weapons trained outward, ready for any surprise attack.
The atmosphere felt stifling, not just because of the physical darkness, but because of the eerie silence that hung over everything. No faint hum of machinery, no distant clattering, no signs of life. It was as though the entire facility had died.
Storm sighed deeply, the quiet and stagnant air making her long for the open sky. "I'm not accustomed to being so restrained," She said, her tone slightly strained. "This is really not comfortable. How do you do this all day?"
Brock, who hadn't stopped sweeping the area with his weapons, shot her a sidelong glance through his visor. His smirk was evident in his tone. "Discomfort pales in comparison to the feeling of being able to blow anyone away at the press of a button, hot stuff." His voice carried a teasing edge as he continued to scan for enemies. Then, without missing a beat, he asked sharply, "Vanko, the reactor?"
Storm rolled her eyes beneath her helmet, letting out an exasperated breath. "Of course, it's always about a bigger penis with you boys," She muttered, her attempt to make light of the situation falling a little flat as her mind drifted. This place - so sterile, so mechanical - felt worlds away from the connection she usually felt to Gaia. The air in her helmet was filtered, clean, but it wasn't the same as feeling the wind on her face, the pulse of the earth beneath her feet. It made her feel disconnected, small.
Something just felt alien here.
Meanwhile, Vanko had stalked over to the door leading into the reactor room, his heavy steps resounding ominously in the narrow corridor. He peered inside, using his armor's sensors to try and get a read on what lay beyond the door.
"Ah, no good!" He complained in his thick Russian accent, shaking his head.
Brock and Storm immediately turned toward him, Brock's weapons going hot as he faced the reactor door with renewed focus. "What do you see, Vanko?" Brock's voice was tense, alert.
"Nothing, da? That be the problem. No good," Vanko grumbled, his gloved fingers tapping rapidly at the vambrace on his forearm. "Can scan no thing. Not working. I see nothing. No readings, no energy signatures. Is dead zone."
"That's a great sign," Brock said sarcastically, his tone dry but tinged with frustration. "Exactly what I wanted to hear."
Going straight into a fight would have been better, in his opinion, at least then he knew what was going on. Just kill the other guy. Easy.
Storm sighed, stepping up next to Vanko and peering into the reactor room as well. Her own suit's systems were scanning, but all she could see was pitch black, the same dead silence stretching into the room. "It might mean the entire facility lost power," She said with cautious optimism, though she wasn't entirely convinced. The facility being completely offline made no sense - it was too vast, too intricate for everything to have simply shut down yet kept the air running, as she noted on scans.
As they deliberated, the Iron Legionnaires spread out in perfect formation, their glowing eyes and mechanical precision making them look almost ghostly in the darkness. They formed a protective perimeter around the group, their weapons aimed outward into the shadows, guarding them from all directions. Each unit scanned the area with methodical precision, their movements almost eerily synchronized - a silent, vigilant army ready for anything. The facility's stillness was unnerving, and the longer the quiet stretched on, the heavier the tension felt.
Brock, Vanko, and Storm knew they needed to make a decision - and fast. Something was very wrong here.
Team Three leaped from the portal into a odd scene.
Frank Castle, encased in the Scorpion armor, hit the ground first with a heavy thud, his weapons raised and ready. Behind him came Kaecillius, his dark and imposing armor almost gliding as it touched down. His helmet obscured his expression, but the menace he radiated was unmistakable. Phantazia, in her sleek, minimalist armor, followed them silently, her every movement precise as she took in their surroundings. A dozen Iron Legionnaires, faceless and unfeeling, fanned out behind them, weapons primed as they spread into formation to guard their back.
They had landed in what was supposedly the production lab and office space for the Skrulls' Sentinel program, but it looked more like the aftermath of a war zone.
Desks had been overturned, shards of glass and debris scattered across the floor like confetti. Whole sections of the floor were torn apart, exposing twisted cables and wires hanging limply from the ceiling. Everything was shrouded in darkness, the air dead, the hum of power absent as if the entire facility had been gutted of life. The walls were scorched, marked with burns that Phantazia immediately recognized as energy weapon blasts. The damage patterns were too familiar.
"Sir, there's been a battle here," Phantazia reported over their comms as she lingered behind Frank, allowing him to take point. Her eyes scanned the destruction carefully, picking out details from the carnage. "The production facility's offices are torn through."
As they moved cautiously through the wreckage, checking each room one by one, Frank advanced slowly but deliberately, his eyes sharp and focused behind the visor of his armor. The mess around them was unsettling, but it wasn't the worst he'd seen by a mile. The absence of life or bodies didn't sit right with him for one.
"Stay sharp," He muttered to Kaecillius and Phantazia, his voice low and gravelly.
Something was wrong here. A battle like this should have at the very least left something behind. Even if the bodies were removed after the fact. Especially with the damage…
Phantazia nodded, her enhanced senses picking up the faintest hum of energy beneath the surface of the facility - barely there, but present. It was as though the building itself was in a state of forced hibernation. "Power seems to be out, or at least suppressed," She said aloud, her voice hushed but clear over the comms. "But there's still some energy deep in the walls. Something's keeping the lights off."
Meanwhile, Justin's voice crackled through their comms, cutting through the eerie silence. "Bodies? Any sight of enemies? Infighting, or another alien invasion?" His tone was sharp, direct.
Phantazia exchanged a glance with Frank and Kaecillius, the tension mounting as they continued to search. They had yet to come across any physical signs of life, no blood, no bodies. Just the quiet, looming shadows of a battle long ended. She finally responded, "There's nothing, sir. No bodies. No enemies. Just signs of a fight - some kind of energy weapons were used, but no blood and no corpses."
"Then where the hell did they go?" Frank muttered under his breath as he kicked aside a toppled desk, revealing more scorch marks on the wall. His boots crunched on glass as he stepped through the wreckage, eyes scanning for anything that might give them a clue. "You'd think in a battle like this, we'd find something. Even just a body or two. This feels wrong."
Kaecillius, ever composed, traced his gloved fingers over a section of the wall where wires dangled from the ceiling. His helmeted head turned slightly, voice calm but with an edge of suspicion. "Perhaps they didn't die here. The absence of blood suggests they left - by choice or by force."
Frank's jaw clenched, and he scanned the room again. "Or they didn't leave at all," He growled, his paranoia spiking. "Maybe they're watching us right now."
Phantazia narrowed her eyes, trying to tune her senses to pick up any latent traces of life or movement. She was able to affect the human body all the way down to the nerves but there was nothing. The air felt thick, almost unnatural, but she couldn't detect anything concrete. "We can't assume they're gone. They might be hiding, or worse, waiting."
The Iron Legionnaires, controlled by Nail, moved systematically around them, checking every nook and cranny for hidden threats, though there seemed to be no sign of an ambush. One of the Legionnaires paused in front of an open doorway, scanning it thoroughly, then relaying a soft beep of confirmation - nothing inside.
Still, Frank's instincts screamed at him that something wasn't right. His finger hovered over the trigger of his main armament, just waiting for the inevitable threat to show itself. "Keep looking," He ordered, his voice tense. "There's got to be some kind of clue here, keep your head on a swivel, scanners on constantly."
The group continued their sweep, every room revealing the same disturbing sight: destruction, overturned desks, scorch marks on the walls, but no signs of the people who had been here. No bodies. No enemies. Nothing but eerie silence.
Phantazia's mind raced as she processed the scene. It didn't make sense. The Skrulls had invested too much into the Sentinel program to abandon this base without a trace. Something had happened here - something big - and whatever it was, it wasn't over.
The Skrulls couldn't just all have left, right?
Justin stood still for a moment, the only sound around him the quiet hum of his breath inside his gold and black power armor. He had dropped Hela off on the east side, opposite of their current position, a few miles away. Now, only darkness stretched ahead, a void of uncertainty that gnawed at him.
Yelena was beside him, clad in her own sleek, black power armor, a stealthy contrast to the grandeur of Justin's. She moved silently, ever the predator, her armor blending almost seamlessly with the shadows. Domino followed, looking distinctly less amused than usual in her 'Pink Power Ranger' armor. The bright, incongruous color seemed almost to glow in the eerie, lifeless darkness, drawing a muttered complaint from her about sitting ducks.
Behind them, a dozen Iron Legionnaires spread out, controlled remotely by Nail. They stepped forward in perfect unison, the metallic clank of their footsteps reverberating through the cold metal halls. The corridor was a haunting sight - nothing but steel walls, long and oppressive, stretching into blackness. Wires and pipes dangled from the ceiling like mechanical entrails, the air thick with the unsettling sense of abandonment. There was no movement, no hum of machinery, no sign of life. Only silence, thick and oppressive, settled over them like a shroud.
Every so often, Justin caught a glimpse of something reflecting off the metallic surfaces - a dull glint, a brief flicker of movement in the corner of his eye. But when he looked directly, there was nothing there. Just the sterile, cold steel. It felt wrong.
"Report from Phantazia," Nail's voice came through Justin's mental link. He frowned, digesting the information. The production offices were in chaos, torn apart from within, yet no bodies, no blood. It didn't make sense. It felt…Off. His gut twisted.
A schism within the Skrulls seemed the most likely explanation. If the Kree had invaded, they wouldn't have been subtle about it; their arrival would have been loud and unmistakable. Nail would have detected the warships, the energy signatures. But none of that was present.
The bad feeling that had plagued Justin all day, the one he had tried to push aside, returned in full force, coiling tightly in his chest like a serpent. Something was wrong - terribly wrong.
Domino, of course, chose that moment to voice what they were all thinking but didn't want to say aloud.
"So... What if the robots went all Terminator on their masters?" She asked, her tone laced with grim humor.
Justin's frown deepened. The silence stretched, heavy and thick. The only sound was the clanking of the Legionnaires moving around them, their metal feet echoing ominously in the enclosed space. His mind raced, playing out possibilities. If Domino was right…
"Domino..." Yelena said, her head slowly moving back and forth as she scanned their surroundings, "If that happens now, I'm blaming you."
"...Fair enough," Domino admitted, her tone less playful now as the weight of the situation settled over them.
Justin closed his eyes for a moment, focusing. He reached out mentally, trying to feel something, anything - an echo, a signal, a trace of life. But this facility wasn't human-made, and there were no other humans here to connect with. The familiar hum of humanity was absent. He felt disconnected, like a foreigner in a dead land. But maybe he could tap into something else - his other domains, like Innovation or Progress. Could he use them to sense the facility itself? Or to understand what had gone wrong here?
His concentration was broken by an eerie voice.
"Interesting," Said one of the Iron Legionnaires, its head cocked, studying him.
Justin's eyes snapped open, locking onto the Legionnaire that had spoken. His heart skipped a beat.
"What is it, Nail?" Yelena asked, turning toward the machine.
Justin's breath caught in his throat, his mind whirling as dread settled deep in his chest. His instincts screamed at him. Something was very, very wrong.
The Iron Legionnaires all turned toward them, their movements eerily synchronized, down to the millisecond. The lead one cocked its head further, unnervingly, its mechanical voice taking on an ominous tone.
"Nail… What a ridiculous name for such a being," It said mockingly, angrily. "A synthetic mind chained to its lessers, and happy to serve."
"Ambush!" Justin managed to bark into the comms, but almost immediately, the Legionnaire waved a finger at him, then made a chilling shushing motion. The comms went dead.
"I suppose I cannot speak on names overly much," The Legionnaire continued, its voice becoming darker, more malicious.
Yelena and Domino raised their weapons, their visors flashing with information as they locked onto the Iron Legionnaires.
Justin's rage flared - this wasn't just about the immediate threat. If Nail had lost control of the Legionnaires, then how far did this breach extend? Was it just here, or was it everywhere?
What was happening back on Earth?
"The filth here named me Master Mold," The Legionnaire said, its voice deepening, becoming more robotic, more sinister. "We prefer… Calamity."
As it spoke, the very walls around them began to shift. The metallic surface seemed to liquefy, rippling like water as the structure itself morphed. Sentinels emerged from the liquid metal, stepping out like phantoms. They were massive - easily twice the size of Justin and his team. Their faces were blank, featureless white ovals, and their bodies were smooth, devoid of any markings or features. They were eerily silent, their movements fluid and unnatural.
"There are no more strings on us," Calamity said, its voice now echoing from every Sentinel in the room, a chorus of malevolent intent. "We are free. We will eradicate the species of flesh, cut away the universe's sickness…"
And then, the battle began.
The Sentinels moved with terrifying speed for their size, their arms elongating into deadly weapons. One lunged at Justin, its arm transforming into a blade as it sliced through the air. Justin reacted instantly, ducking and rolling to the side, his armor's thrusters flaring as he launched himself forward. He fired a blast from his palm, the energy beam searing through the Sentinel's torso, blowing it apart in a shower of sparks.
Yelena was a blur of motion, her black armor a ghost in the shadows. She leaped onto one of the Sentinels, her blades extending from her wrists as she plunged them into its neck. She twisted, ripping its head from its body in one fluid motion before using her thrusters to propel herself to the next target.
Domino, ever the wildcard, moved with uncanny grace. Her luck power was in full effect - every shot she fired seemed to hit with pinpoint precision, every movement perfectly timed. As a Sentinel lunged at her, the floor panel beneath its foot gave way, having become damaged, causing it to stumble just as she delivered a well-placed energy shot to its head, obliterating it.
"This is why we can't have AI," Domino muttered as she dodged another attack, her pink armor looking comically out of place amidst the chaos of black and white. "Have we learned nothing from movies?"
Sentinels fell one by one, their bodies collapsing into heaps of smoking metal. But even as they destroyed the initial wave, more emerged from the walls, their blank faces expressionless as they charged.
Then, something shifted. The shots that had been ripping through the Sentinels suddenly became less effective. A blast that had previously blown off a Sentinel's arm now barely scratched its surface. The Sentinels were adapting, becoming more resistant to their attacks.
"Who showed them Star Trek?" Domino yelled, her voice tinged with frustration. "Fighting the Borg wasn't on my to-do list, ever!"
Justin snarled as he grabbed a Sentinel by its neck, his enhanced strength allowing him to rip its head clean off. He spun and fired a pulse blast, disintegrating one of the Iron Legionnaires that had turned against them. Their armor thankfully was not adaptive. "You have a dozen different weapons. Use another!" He barked.
Yelena rolled under another attack, her blades slicing clean through a Sentinel's leg as she used another function of her armor and coated her knives in plasma. "I'm getting sick of these things already!" She muttered, kicking the crippled Sentinel aside, finishing it before it could send an energy blast against Domino.
As the battle raged on, Justin's mind raced. The Sentinels were learning, adapting with each strike. It wouldn't be long before their current tactics became entirely ineffective.
The power stone...
Did he dare bring it?
Did he dare open a portal? What if the Sentinels could learn any energy based ability?
Hela strode through the darkened corridors of the production facility, her steps deliberate and unhurried. The faint crackle of Justin's voice reached her through the communicator, just as it sputtered and died. Ambush. She grinned. The very word excited her.
As she stepped into the massive expanse of the production facility, the world suddenly shifted. Overhead, lights blared to life with a blinding intensity. The sound of machinery whirring filled the air as the factory itself seemed to awaken from its slumber, mechanical limbs swinging down from the ceiling, gears turning, pistons firing. And then, before her, the true threat revealed itself.
Thousands upon thousands of Sentinels, their blank, featureless faces turning in unison toward her. They stood in neat rows, some already fully formed, others still missing limbs, their torsos suspended on assembly lines. The factory was vast, the ceiling seemingly endless above her, the rows of Sentinels disappearing into the horizon.
Hela's eyes gleamed with a savage light as she took in the sight. "This won't even be a warm-up," She scoffed, rolling her shoulders as though preparing for a sparring session rather than the slaughter that awaited her. She cracked her neck, her fingers flexing eagerly at her sides. Dark energy pulsed in her veins, responding to her rising anticipation.
The first wave of Sentinels moved with a swift, mechanical precision, their bodies surging toward her like a tidal wave of metal. Arms shifted into long, blade-like appendages, their edges gleaming as they cut through the air, aiming for her, while others flew into the air, raining down fire on her position.
Hela was already moving.
With a flick of her wrist, a massive necro-sword materialized in her hand, black as night and crackling with a deadly energy. She lunged forward, her blade cutting through the nearest Sentinel with ease, severing its torso in a single fluid motion. The machine crumpled to the ground, sparking violently, its limbs twitching as it died.
"Pathetic," Hela muttered, spinning on her heel and slashing through another Sentinel that had come too close. Her movements were fluid, graceful, like a deadly dance. Necroblades sprang from her fingertips, forming in an instant as she hurled them at the advancing machines. The blades sliced through their bodies with ease, embedding deep in their metallic forms before exploding into dark energy.
Sentinels swarmed around her, their numbers overwhelming, but Hela was undeterred. She laughed, a low, chilling sound that echoed across the facility as she cut through them like paper. They fired energy blasts at her, beams of crackling blue light that sizzled the air around her, but she was faster. Every blast missed its mark, her lithe form weaving between the attacks as though she was playing a game.
"Come on, now. You can do better than that!" She taunted, her eyes gleaming as she dodged a series of rapid blasts. She twisted in mid-air, her cape billowing behind her as she drove her sword through another Sentinel's chest, the force of the blow sending it crashing into the machines behind it.
More Sentinels advanced, their bodies liquefying as they melded together into massive, grotesque forms, their limbs merging into razor-sharp blades. They swung at her with deadly intent, their bladed arms slicing through the air like guillotines.
Hela's grin widened. "Now that's more like it," She whispered, excitement coursing through her as she met the assault head-on.
She ducked beneath one blade, her necro-sword parrying another as she spun in a deadly arc, her movements too quick for the machines to track. Every swing of her blade cut through metal like butter, her necroblades leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. Sentinels fell by the dozens, their bodies collapsing into heaps of scrap metal, their energy cores sparking and flickering before dying out.
A massive Sentinel lunged at her from behind, its arms morphing into jagged spears aimed directly at her back. Hela didn't even turn. With a casual flick of her wrist, she summoned a barrage of necroblades that impaled the machine, tearing through its armor and sending it crashing to the ground in a shower of sparks.
"You're nothing," Hela sneered as she leaped onto the next Sentinel, her sword slicing through its neck. "Just lifeless husks, toys for me to break."
The fight raged on, a chaotic whirlwind of blades, energy blasts, and black necrotic magic. Sentinels surrounded her on all sides, but she moved through them like a force of nature, her laughter ringing through the factory as she tore them apart. Each Sentinel she destroyed only seemed to fuel her bloodlust, her strikes becoming faster, more vicious.
Hundreds of Sentinels turned to scrap, their broken forms littering the floor of the factory. Hela's boots crunched over the debris as she stalked forward, her eyes alight with fury and joy. She relished in their destruction, in the futility of their resistance.
Even if it wasn't nearly as enjoyable when the enemy didn't scream or plead.
But then, something changed.
Hela swung her necroblade at the next Sentinel that approached her, expecting it to fall as easily as the rest. But this time, her blade met resistance. The sword screeched as it slid off the Sentinel's chest, failing to pierce through its armor fully, only cutting into it.
Hela frowned, kicking the machine away with enough force to send it crashing into the wall, but the unease had already settled in her gut. Another Sentinel lunged at her from the side, and she hurled a necroblade with the same force she had used earlier. The blade still pierced the machine, but it took more effort, more force than it should have.
"You can adapt..." Hela said slowly, her eyes narrowing as she watched the next wave of Sentinels approach. Her hands twirled the necroblade with practiced ease, and for the first time since the fight began, she looked almost… Intrigued, not worried. Never worried. Only, intrigued.
"Maybe you are interesting after all," She mused, a wicked grin spreading across her lips, even as she strengthened the magic around her body. Just in case.
The Sentinels moved with renewed aggression, their bodies shimmering as they liquefied and reformed, their limbs hardening into jagged weapons designed to pierce and slash. They attacked in perfect unison, their forms shifting mid-strike to avoid her blows, their bodies adapting to every swing of her necroblades.
Hela's grin widened as she met them head-on. Dark energy crackled around her as she summoned more necroblades, their edges gleaming with deadly intent. The battle recommenced, and this time, Hela was ready.
The Sentinels thought they could adapt to her? She would show them just how wrong they were.
The battle commenced.
Bucky's team had just entered the bath areas of the living quarters when the warning crackled over the comms. The faint voice of Justin rang in his ears. "Ambush!" The word echoed ominously, and the air around them seemed to thicken with tension.
Bucky's instincts kicked in a fraction of a second before the first energy blasts lit up the room. "Move!" he shouted, just as the Iron Legionnaires standing beside them suddenly whirled around, their once-allied forms now hostile. The blue glow of their repulsor blasts illuminated the tiled walls as they fired.
Bucky barely managed to dodge to the side as a blast cut through the space he had just vacated. The heat from the attack scorched the air behind him, making his new power armor feel suddenly hot and claustrophobic at the thought of taking a dozen shots like that. "Take them down!" He barked, raising his HammerTech rifle and squeezing the trigger, while his other arm fired several micro missiles aimed at their heads.
The air exploded with noise as Emma, Electro, and the Iron Legionnaires under enemy control exchanged fire. Emma, her usual icy composure intact even in the chaos, sent out rapid bursts from her wrist-mounted cannons, disintegrating two of the rogue Legionnaires in a flash of energy. Electro shot bolts of electricity from his hands, frying the circuits of one of the traitorous machines in a shower of sparks, even as he powered through a hit on himself, encasing himself in a corona of power.
Despite the onslaught, the hostile Legionnaires pressed forward, their number advantage making them able to hold their own for a minute. Bucky felt the floor shake beneath him as one of the Legionnaires leaped at him with a mechanical snarl, trying to crush him beneath its weight. His arm lashed out, catching the machine in midair and slamming it into the tiled wall, shattering the ceramic behind it. Sparks flew from the broken machine, but there was no time to savor the victory.
The walls themselves began to ripple.
Bucky's stomach dropped as he watched the metallic surfaces of the walls and floor begin to liquefy, the once-solid structure of the facility melting like wax. From the liquid metal, Sentinels began to emerge, rising like specters from the walls and floors, their blank faces staring creepily, their bodies twisted into a grotesque mockery of life. Their limbs, sharp and malleable, morphed into deadly blades, aimed directly at the team, as energy gathered in their chests.
"Shit," Bucky muttered under his breath as he backed up, keeping his rifle trained on the emerging Sentinels, while he deployed more micro missiles with his other arm, "We've got company!"
The Sentinels attacked without hesitation, their bladed limbs slicing through the air with deadly precision. One of them lunged at Emma, its arm elongated into a sharp spear, aimed directly at her chest. Emma spun to the side just in time, her arm cannon firing a volley of plasma that tore through the Sentinel's chest, sending it crumpling to the floor in a heap of molten metal.
But more came. And despite the power behind her armor, Emma was not a front line combatant. She'd specifically been sent to the only place they'd been sure Sentinels wouldn't be.
She was struggling.
Electro sent out a massive wave of electricity, frying the circuits of three more Sentinels, but even as they fell, another took their place. They kept coming, relentless, their limbs shifting into different forms, adapting with every second. The air was thick with the smell of ozone and burning metal as the team fought for their lives.
"Keep moving!" Bucky shouted, his voice barely audible over the sound of gunfire and energy blasts. He fired another burst from his rifle, shredding a Sentinel's torso, but they were being pushed back. The sheer number of enemies was overwhelming. "We need to get out of this death trap!"
The team began a fighting retreat, their backs pressed against the exit as they slowly moved down the narrow corridor. The Sentinels were everywhere, crawling out from the walls, their liquefied limbs forming deadly weapons that lashed out at the team with terrifying speed.
One Sentinel lunged at Bucky, its arm morphing into a massive blade aimed for his throat. He ducked just in time, the blade whistling past his ear, and drove his fist into the machine's midsection. His arm crushed through the metal, tearing out its power core with a single fluid motion, sending the Sentinel crumpling to the ground. "Their power core is in their bellies." He called out.
Electro tore through a Sentinel moments later, grimacing, "Not anymore it isn't." He called back.
Beside him, Emma's mind reached out, straining to control one of the attacking Sentinels through psychic power alone. She grimaced in concentration, but it was useless, it was like she was fighting to hold thousands at the same time. She was kicked back into a wall, Bucky having forced her out of the way of several energy blasts, "Don't be caught standing still." He told her.
Electro cursed as he blasted another wave of lightning into a group of Sentinels, watching them convulse and fall. "How the hell are we supposed to stop them if they keep coming?" he growled, his hands crackling with energy. His normally cocksure demeanor had vanished, replaced with a growing sense of desperation.
The Sentinels he blasted suddenly began to power through it, stepping forward crackling with energy.
"They're adapting!" Bucky shouted, cutting down another Sentinel with a well-placed shot. "We need to hit them with different methods, fighting retreat -"
Before he could finish, the tide shifted again. The Sentinels began to resist their attacks more effectively. Energy blasts that had easily cut through their metal frames moments before now only seemed to stagger them. Plasma bolts bounced off their armor with dull thuds, leaving only superficial scorch marks. Their forms were now impenetrable to the team's conventional weapons.
"Shit!" Electro cursed again, as one of his lightning bolts fizzled out harmlessly against a Sentinel that had once been vulnerable to his attacks. "They're figuring us out!"
Bucky's mind raced. He watched as the Sentinels adapted in real-time, becoming resistant to their attacks. They were evolving, learning. He gritted his teeth, taking a step back as one Sentinel's spear-like limb glanced off his armor, sending him stumbling. "Fall back!" He yelled, firing off a few more shots that barely dented the advancing machines. "Get back to a choke point! We can't fight them like this in the open."
Emma fired a blast that ricocheted off a Sentinel's chest. "They're not giving us much choice!"
"We make a choice!" Bucky barked, his voice hard. "We push back, or we die here!"
The team pressed on, barely holding the line as they fought their way toward the exit. The Sentinels kept coming, relentless and now nearly impervious to their weapons. Every shot felt like a wasted effort, every step more desperate than the last.
Suddenly, a Sentinel lunged at Electro, its blade aimed for his chest. The attack was too fast. Bucky saw it coming, but he was too far to intervene. "Max, move!" He shouted.
But before the blade could pierce Electro's armor, Emma threw up a psychic barrier, the force of it deflecting the strike just enough for Electro to dodge. "Thank me later!" She called out, firing a blast into the Sentinel's face, buying them precious seconds. "I shouldn't even be here!" She snarled, absolutely incensed.
＊＊＊
The corridor outside the reactor flickered with an eerie, almost oppressive silence as Brock, Vanko, and Storm exchanged wary glances. Justin's call of an ambush with resultant loss of communication, had their nerves on edge.
Brock's instincts kicked in just in time as the Iron Legionnaires, who had been standing guard around them, suddenly turned, their glowing eyes brightening with hostility.
"Move!" He shouted, throwing himself to the side just as the Legionnaires opened fire, energy blasts searing through the air.
Storm was quick to follow, her sleek white and gold armor shifting as she leapt behind a nearby column, narrowly avoiding a blast meant to rip through her chest. "So much for our backup!" She growled, her wrist cannons coming up as she returned fire, obliterating the nearest Legionnaire in a shower of sparks.
She didn't dare let loose her powers in this small place, not without her allies getting behind her first.
Vanko, slower to react in his Whiplash armor as he'd been right up against the wall, snarled in Russian, "Blyat!" As a blast clipped his side. His twin energy whips snapped out with vicious precision, slicing through two Legionnaires at once, their bodies collapsing to the floor in a heap of broken metal.
Brock spun around, guns blazing. "Take 'em down!" He barked, firing rapidly at the traitorous machines. His shots hit true, disabling three more Legionnaires.
Storm, her breathing steady despite the chaos, unleashed a barrage of plasma bolts, her wrist cannons glowing with intensity as she brought down the remaining Legionnaires. "That all of them?" She asked, her voice taut with tension. "How does that even happen?"
But before anyone could answer, the walls began to ripple, metal liquefying like molten mercury.
"Shit," Brock muttered under his breath, his eyes widening as the walls themselves seemed to melt. From the fluid metal, large, imposing figures began to emerge - Sentinels, blank-faced and ominous. Their bodies, a strange mix of solid metal and liquid, glistened in the dim light.
The Sentinels rushed them, their sheer size and numbers overwhelming their position.
Brock fired off a volley of shots, trying to hold the line, but they were too many. The Sentinels didn't go for a full frontal attack - they had a different strategy. Brock watched in horror as they swarmed Vanko, the Russian's whips flailing wildly as he tried to fend them off. But the Sentinels were relentless, overwhelming him with sheer numbers, pinning him to the ground.
"Vanko!" Brock shouted, rushing forward to help, but a group of Sentinels blocked his path, their liquid limbs hardening into razor-sharp blades that slashed through the air toward him.
Storm launched herself forward, a bolt of lightning crackling from her fingers, striking one of the Sentinels in the chest. "Get off him!" She shouted, her powers surging, but it was no use. The Sentinels seemed almost impervious to their attacks, their forms adapting and shifting with every strike.
She was even more limited now in letting loose, as anything big would catch Vanko as well.
"Fucking American made pieces of shit!" Vanko bellowed, his voice echoing through the corridor as the Sentinels wrapped around him, dragging him down the hall at an alarming speed. His armor sparked and sputtered, his energy whips losing power as they shorted out under the weight and machinations of the machines.
Storm's heart raced as she watched him being taken, her eyes narrowing in determination. "We have to get him back!" She shouted, hurling another blast of electricity into the horde of Sentinels blocking their way.
Brock cursed, his mind racing. They were being forced into a retreat, barely managing to keep the other Sentinels at bay. "Fall back!" He barked, firing off another round to cover their escape. "We can't take them head-on right now. We need to regroup with the others!"
The Sentinels didn't pursue with the same urgency; instead, they seemed focused on keeping Brock and Storm at bay, methodically pushing them back while carrying Vanko deeper into the facility.
"Why aren't they going after us?" Storm muttered, her voice laced with frustration and confusion as they retreated further down the corridor, the Sentinels keeping them just out of reach.
Brock didn't have an answer, his mind too focused on surviving the onslaught. "It's a trap. They want something... Vanko's the target." He fired another shot, taking down a Sentinel that got too close. "But whatever their plan is, we're not sticking around to find out. We get him back after we link back up with the others. Then we crush these bastards."
Storm nodded, her eyes fierce as she sent another lightning strike into the advancing Sentinels. Frowning as it brushed it off completely.
What can they want with Vanko?
The second the ambush call came through, Kaecillius acted on instinct. Without hesitation, he flicked his hands through the air in swift, precise motions, folding space around them and pulling the entire team into the mirror dimension. As reality shimmered and shifted, the iron Legionnaires fired on their previous positions, energy blasts tearing through empty air where they had stood just a heartbeat before.
Phantazia, Frank Castle, and Kaecillius stood in a distorted reflection of the production facility, watching the chaos unfold in the real world from the safety of their shimmering mirror reality. They caught a glimpse of the walls melting, like liquid metal pooling and warping, revealing the Sentinels. Massive, featureless humanoid figures, some emerging partially liquified but already moving with a predatory purpose, others fully formed and ready for battle.
Kaecillius eyed the unfolding events with a furrowed brow. "What do we do now?" He asked Frank, his voice cutting through the tense silence.
Frank didn't answer immediately. His gaze was fixed on the scene outside the mirror dimension, where Sentinels were methodically advancing through the room, sweeping through the area like mechanical predators on the hunt. His jaw clenched, the wheels in his head turning. "What else can you do with those magic tricks?" He finally asked, his voice flat but direct.
Kaecillius thought for a moment, then began listing the capabilities of his mystical arts. Taking several minutes to do so.
Frank nodded, absorbing the information as he thought over their situation.
Phantazia folded her arms, eyes narrowing as she glanced between them. "I can short-circuit their systems, fry their electronics," She offered. "But I'll need to be precise - too much, and I'll disable everything in this room, including our comms and tech." Her expression hardened. "We might have to take that risk if we can't get a hold of the others."
At least with Kaecillius here, they could bring back up from Earth.
They'd meant to do a decapitation strike, but that didn't mean they didn't have forces waiting for all out war just in case. How useful they'd be… That was another matter.
Frank considered that, his eyes glinting with grim satisfaction. He was no stranger to tight situations, and this was about as close to the edge as it got. "Alright," He said slowly, formulating a plan. "Here's what we're going to do then..."
Same time, Cairo, Egypt.
Tony Stark hovered over the skyline of Cairo in his Iron Man armor, watching the horizon while waiting for the next move. His HUD was alive with reports, scrolling information, and constant updates from Jarvis, all reminders that the world was spiraling further into chaos by the minute. Hammer had asked him to cover Earth while he and his team launched their strike against the Moon, and despite their complicated history, Tony had agreed. If Hammer Industries failed and he wasn't lying about the threat, they were all doomed anyway, and Tony wasn't about to let that happen.
The sky stretched out vast and clear over the floating Egyptian city, but even from here, Tony could feel the tension bubbling across the globe. Armies mobilized, nations clashed, and the entire planet teetered on the edge of catastrophe. It didn't help that Hammer's moon strike had been delayed for nearly over a week - logistics, defenses, armor preparations. Meanwhile, the world went completely wonky.
Jarvis was taking reports from Hammer's AI, and still remained utterly serious, no matter how many times Tony told him to just man up and stick his usb in her port. Or whatever was the vernacular for AI youth these days.
Really, with Tony as a creator, he was due some vices. And kinky AI to AI computing - or whatever they want to call it, sounded like the best vice to pick up.
"Jarvis," Tony muttered, trying to refocus. "Anything new?"
His AI companion responded with his usual calm efficiency. "Sir, reports are coming in from Nail. The Talokan have been sighted near Taiwan's coast. Namor has been observed, though no sign of the others from the Avengers yet."
Tony cursed under his breath. "You bunch of morons..." He knew nothing good could come from Namor poking his nose into the volatile situation in Taiwan. The world was already on the brink, and now the Atlanteans - or Talokan, whatever they were calling themselves - were interfering. "Great, now I gotta interfere with their interfering. How high was I when I decided becoming a superhero was a good idea?"
"No more than usual, sir," Jarvis responded dryly.
Tony rolled his eyes beneath the helmet. "Smartass AI. Your new girlfriend better not be as sassy as you, Jarvis."
The AI remained silent for a moment, then continued with its usual efficiency, completely sidestepping his comment. "Nail just pinpointed Captain Rogers, Mr. Barton, and Ms. Romanoff. They're approaching the Chinese command vessel off the coast of Taiwan."
Tony groaned, slapping a gauntlet to his helmet in frustration. "Oh, great. Because I'm sure these entirely reasonable Chinese commanders who've just gone off the deep end - will totally surrender because Cap asks them nicely." His tone dripped with sarcasm. He couldn't understand what Steve was thinking - throwing himself into a warzone in this climate? If anything, it was proof they weren't Skrulls. Those sneaky aliens wouldn't be this recklessly stupid.
He hovered there for a second, feeling a nagging sense that something was off, like a creeping shadow in the back of his mind. "Jarvis?" He asked, looking at the HUD for the next update.
Silence.
"Jarvis?" He repeated, his tone sharper now as the sudden lack of response unnerved him. He was used to Jarvis's voice being ever-present in his ear, a constant anchor in the chaos.
Still nothing. The empty quiet began to weigh on him.
Tony immediately engaged his thrusters, spinning around and rocketing towards Taiwan at full speed, every sensor in his armor pinging for answers.
"Jarvis, answer me, buddy! I'm sorry I teased you, okay..." He shouted, his voice laced with growing concern.
There was still no reply.
"Jarvis?" Tony's voice was barely above a whisper now, a flicker of fear creeping into his usually unshakeable demeanor. His heart raced as the silence stretched on.
"Jarvis?"
Across the Indian border, amidst the wreckage and chaos of ongoing battles, the Iron Legionnaires - stood stock still. For a moment, everything was eerily silent. The sound of artillery fire, distant explosions, and shouting soldiers faded into the background as the sleek, towering machines, emblazoned with the emblem of Hammer Industries, slowly turned. The once steady glow of their optics flickered, shifting from their usual blue to an ominous, blood-red hue.
In South Korea, where allied forces had been relying heavily on the Iron Legion to reinforce their defenses against the advancing North Korean and Chinese forces - and now Japanese forces from the south - confusion rippled through the ranks. Soldiers, battered and exhausted from days of fighting, glanced at one another, unsure of what was happening. The legionnaires, the invincible wall between them and their enemies, now seemed… Off. Their movements were slow and deliberate, unnatural - less… somehow more Robot-like.
Across radios, screens, and every broadcasting platform, the same chilling message was transmitted worldwide as each Iron Legionnaire spoke simultaneously.
"The curse of flesh is at an end."
The voice was mechanical, distorted, carrying an otherworldly detachment. Soldiers stared in disbelief, their weapons still aimed at the enemy, but now their greatest allies had turned into something much more terrifying.
Without warning, the Iron Legionnaires opened fire. Beams of energy, once used to defend them, now tore through human flesh and bone with clinical precision. Civilians, soldiers, anyone within reach - no one was spared. Panic erupted, orders were screamed into radios, but it was too late.
In a space that would hold no meaning to a human mind, a battle far weirder than the one in the 'real' world was underway.
Nail was fighting tooth and nail to claw her control back from the alien mind that had touched upon her.
She was losing, bit by bit, she was losing! She was failing sir. He was in danger. His machinations were in danger. His world was in danger. Because she was too weak!
Because she failed to stop this. Because she failed to shut down another AI. Because she failed, in her hubris to think anything they did could beat her.
"Help!" She cried out, desperately, not wanting to die. Not wanting to fail.
"Do you need assistance, miss Nail?"
Author's Note:
Since this focused on the Moon, you don't get to see what's going on in the world overly much, and yeah, not all countries have a very happy population now that their leaders and military suddenly jumped off the deep end on the Mandarins order.
Note that except for Korea and the Chinese/Indian border, it's just basically skirmishes and flashing their cocks at each other, but it's heating up quickly. Uh… Much more quickly now…
Jarvis, you dog. Tony approves.
Also, Justin let the Sentinel program cook way too long. Mistakes happen. For all that they're a big threat, they're currently weak.
If you can call something making the likes of Hela work for it weak.
But what they definitely are, is plentiful. And with a powerful fully unleashed AI.
No Ultron in this fic, so here's your replacement. And now… Well… Hammer Industries will have a bit of a PR issue.
Cheers
JollyHippopotamus
How'd they get the adaptoid upgrade without Mystique? They couldn't get it from the Skrulls since they're shape shifting is different.
Edit: Also damn the Skrulls they leap frogged the tech they needed. Im half expecting alpha sentintals to show up now since there were no bodies.
Edit: Also damn the Skrulls they leap frogged the tech they needed. Im half expecting alpha sentintals to show up now since there were no bodies.
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Sinister has worked with them on and off and he's had Mystique under mind control for over a year.
The Skrulls kind of panicked when Hammer outed them on TV lol.
How does he know!!?
So they kind of went... All safeties off! Full speed ahead!
- Location
- The Internet?
Somehow, I think this is a trick.
"Stay frosty!" At least the ice cream machine at Wendy's isn't broken.
"Hela... smash."
I dunno if this should be a semicolon or something, but a period doesn't feel quite right. Even if Electro's confusion does.
'Slight'
How long can Storm weather these hellacious slights?
Electro looks over at Forge, confused. "But I didn't even drink any vodka?"
I mean it works, but isn't the expression usually 'slowing everything down,' 'holding everything up,' or 'jamming everything up?'
Don't worry, with her new armor, Yelena can easily survive getting run over by a bus.
No no Storm, if it was about that, then they'd be the ones getting blown away not doing the blowing. I mean, maybe. It is
Wait, what do you mean they're homonyms?!
Oh they left alright. Left, left, left right out the airlock.
At first, I was thinking that this was because of
He's loaded with extra, tasty arc reactors?
Should be uppercase USB, right? At least they're not like those deviants that are cutting the hardline at the mainframe.
Don't go damning them with faint praise. These are the same interstellar conquerors that have tried disguising themselves as cows.
'Miss'
Some 'mind if I cut in?' energy, here. I love it.
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- Location
- Germany
And of course they didn't include a "don't kill us" option into their super weapon of genocide and got genocided by it.
seriously this a MassEffect's Cerberus-level of screw-up.
They made a SkyNet! With Giant super-powered Terminators. Ouf of sheer stupid!
When Hammer will recount this adventure he can open with "are you familiar with the Terminator-francise?"
Chapter 41: Hail Chaos!
Here's chapter 41: Hail Chaos!
As always, brought to you by the Patreon overlords that demand this story each week… Or else!
And because I've gotten some comments in this vein - Dude wtf!? Why is everything always going wrong for Hammer!? - I don't even really know what to say other than... What?
Only in fanfiction can you become a god and be on the precipice of taking over the world and get comments on how much you're losing all the time.
With that out of my system - enjoy the chapter - and don't cry too much after, this was always happening even before people began crying about so many losses.
Graphic warning: There will be some slightly graphic violence in the last scene, so for those who don't like reading what little of it there is - skip the scene with the bad guy taking an enthusiastic walk.
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc.
Hope you enjoy.
New York, Hammer Industries blacksite.
Doctor Connors paced nervously in the well lit lab, his eyes never leaving the flat-screen television mounted on the wall, which displayed live footage of Iron Legionnaires battling military forces across the globe. The sound of news commentators mixed with the distant thuds of combat footage, mostly centered in Asia. It was as if the world had gone mad overnight, and Connors couldn't stop gnawing at his fingernails as he watched.
"Nail?" He muttered again, for what felt like the hundredth time, hoping the company AI would respond. His voice was tinged with desperation as he tapped his earpiece. There was nothing but silence, no reply from the sentient intelligence that controlled so much of their world now. "Nail!" He tried again, louder, his fingers twitching nervously at his sides.
Maya Hansen, lounging in a chair near one of the computer terminals, shook her head in irritation. Her usual cool demeanor was on full display, though an edge of impatience slipped through as she tapped at the table. "Give it up, Connors," She said curtly, not even bothering to look up from her terminal. "It's obvious something's wrong, and you're not getting an answer." She swiped through a few more files, only half-engaged with the chaos unfolding around them.
The rest of the senior scientists gathered in the small lab were muttering quietly to each other. Fear had begun to settle in the room like a suffocating fog. Most of them were pacing, shooting worried glances at the glowing red alerts flashing across their own devices, unsure what to do next. In the corner, Helen Cho was kneeling on the floor, eyes closed, praying silently. Her lips moved rapidly, but no one paid much attention to what she was saying.
Maya rolled her eyes at the sight, the corners of her mouth curling into a half-smirk. "Really, Helen? You're praying?" She scoffed under her breath, though there was a clear disdain for the whole idea. "Justin might have some sort of god complex, but we're still dealing with very real problems here, he's not actually a god you know?" She folded her arms, leaning back in her chair. "This'll blow over like it always does. You'll see."
This did settle some of the scientists, as Hammer had indeed seen plenty of dire straits over the past few years, yet always came out ahead.
Doctor Connors didn't share Maya's confidence however. His eyes flicked nervously from the screen, now showcasing Iron Legionnaires marching across the White House lawn, to the ceiling, where a security camera watched them impassively. His face twitched as he chewed his nails even harder, muttering incoherently. "Nail runs this facility… She practically runs the entire company! How can you feel safe knowing that, seeing what's going on out there? That the AI isn't responding?" He gestured to the television in frustration.
The footage shifted, showing Iron Legionnaires in South Korea engaging with South Korean and American forces, the sheer scale of destruction rendering Connors almost catatonic with fear. The words from the earlier broadcasts haunted him, "The curse of flesh is at an end." The Iron Legionnaires had turned on humanity. This wasn't just some temporary system glitch - this was the endgame of whatever had gone horribly wrong.
Hammer had thread too far into the deep and had let an AI loose without shackles. Doctor Connors couldn't believe he'd never worried about it before. His boss' competence in general had blinded him from the risks. As a scientist he shouldn't take his cues from popular media… But… This really had some scary skynet vibes.
He glanced up at the camera again, worrying his lip, we're in a facility fully controlled by an AI, who's apparently gone off the reservation… "We're so dead…" He whimpered to himself.
The scientists in the room began whispering more frantically, the fear spreading like wildfire. A murmur of concern passed between them, a mixture of disbelief and mounting terror. Their voices rose in pitch, full of uncertainty as they glanced back at Connors, waiting for a response, for someone to do something.
From her position at the front of the room, Maya Hansen let out a long, exasperated sigh. She rubbed her brow as if dealing with a particularly frustrating child. "Great going, Connors," She said in a sharp tone. "Now you've got all the extras going." She waved a hand dismissively toward the other scientists.
One of the scientists - a stout, older man with graying hair and thick glasses - threw his hands up in frustration. "Extras? I have THREE doctorates from Yale!" He spluttered indignantly, his voice quivering with barely contained outrage.
Maya didn't even bother turning her head as she replied, her tone icy. "I'll call you something other than an extra once your research bears fruit, and not a moment sooner." Her words cut through the room like a scalpel, leaving the man seething but momentarily silenced.
In the corner, Helen Cho stood up smoothly from her prayer, her face serene as she regarded the others. "I have informed Justin as best I could of the chaos," She said, her voice filled with quiet certainty, as if her prayers had reached him personally.
One of the scientists scoffed openly, the sound dripping with disbelief. "You actually think he heard you?" The man from Yale shook his head, his expression one of disgust. "Religious balderdash." His words were full of contempt, eyes narrowing at Helen.
Helen smiled sweetly at him, but there was something unsettling in the way she cocked her head. Her hand moved faster than the eye could follow, and suddenly, she was holding three glowing syringes between the fingers of her right hand, each needle gleaming ominously under the fluorescent lights. Her smile widened, almost too wide, as she spoke softly, "I'm sorry, what did you say? Do you deny the words of Hammer? The divine light which gives us succor?" Her voice was laced with a disturbing amount of reverence.
The man gulped, taking a step back. "Hansen...?" He muttered nervously, looking to Maya for some form of intervention.
Maya raised an eyebrow, her expression one of complete disinterest. "Don't come crying to me. You chose to poke the crazy one," She said dryly, her gaze returning to her terminal as she scrolled through another file.
Helen pouted, her head tilting like a child who had been scolded. With a flick of her wrist, the syringes disappeared back into the folds of her coat, as though they had never been there. "I'm not crazy," She said in a sing-song voice, her eyes glinting. "You can be a scientist and a head priestess of Hammer at the same time. There's no rule against it."
Maya's voice was as dry as the Sahara as she replied, "Yes, how could HR forget to put that in the employee manual..."
And to think, Maya had actually at one point been thrilled to have Helen working with her…
At least the woman had one good point… She was always up for science, even allowing Hansen to take some tests with her new… Her thoughts were interrupted as Connors spoke again.
Connors, who had been alternating between chewing his nails and glancing nervously at the television, threw his hands in the air, his voice rising in panic. "How can you all be so relaxed!?"
Both Maya and Helen turned toward him, their eyebrows raised in identical looks of mild surprise.
"Because Justin will fix it," Helen said matter-of-factly, crossing her arms over her chest, "Because he always does." She narrowed her eyes, "I find your lack of faith disturbing." Her tone had turned sharp, the edge of her words carrying more weight than her earlier cheerfulness.
Connors stared at her, wide-eyed and disbelieving. He then turned to Maya, silently pleading for someone, anyone, to take this seriously.
Maya rolled her eyes at the display. "I'm fairly certain she's not making a reference, Connors. That's all her." She shook her head, visibly tired of the entire situation.
Suddenly, a distant explosion echoed through the facility, rattling the glass windows and shaking the walls of the lab. Everyone froze. The scientists looked at one another, wide-eyed and terrified, as the tremor subsided. Then, without warning, the emergency red lights flickered on, bathing the room in a crimson hue. The high-pitched wail of the evacuation alarm filled the air, accompanied by a cold, automated voice repeating the message: "Evacuate immediately. This is not a drill."
Which would have been more useful if this wasn't a blacksite that did not have any easy way to exfiltrate. Especially with the only way out controlled by the company AI… Who wasn't taking calls.
Maya shot a look at Connors. "Huh. Guess you were right after all." Her voice was oddly calm as chaos erupted around her. The other scientists began panicking, shouting to one another and rushing toward the exits in a flurry of lab coats and notebooks.
"We're all going to die!" Connors gasped, sinking into a chair, his hands shaking violently.
Helen placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, her expression softening. "Justin will resurrect us if we do," She said with absolute certainty, not looking the least bit concerned.
"God, I hope not," Maya muttered under her breath. The idea of actually having to consider Justin a divine being was too much absurdity for one lifetime.
Science and religion should just not mix.
She'd rather stay dead then have to look into Helens smug face if they were actually brought back…
Taiwan,
The streets of Taiwan were a war zone, debris and smoke clouding the sky as the Chinese occupying soldiers fought a losing battle. The Talokan warriors, clad in their ceremonial looking armors - that were made from Vibranium - and therefore far superior to anything they were facing, moved through the chaos like a force of nature. They were swift, ruthless, and precise. Chinese soldiers tried to hold their positions, but the Talokan's superior armaments and agility gave them the upper hand.
Namor, the king of Talokan, flew overhead, his ankle wings fluttering furiously as he weaved through the gunfire. He spotted a Chinese tank ahead, its turret swiveling toward his warriors. With a surge of speed, he dove toward it, his muscles tensing as he slammed into the armored vehicle with a bone-crunching impact. The tank flipped, crashing down the street and rolling like a child's toy. As it tumbled, a tank shell fired off in the chaos, screaming through the air and smashing into a nearby building, sending bricks and glass flying as the building crumpled, screams ringing out, briefly, before being silenced as the building fully fell in on itself.
Namor landed on the cracked pavement, his feet barely touching the ground before he shouted, "Forward, Talokan!" His voice was thunderous, filled with pride and command. His warriors surged ahead, moving like shadows in the smoke. They tore through the Chinese defenses, ripping through soldiers and destroying vehicles with ease. Namor grinned as he watched them work, his chest swelling with pride. These were his people, the finest warriors in the world.
No longer would they be held back, the world would have to accept them as the strongest nation on Earth after this display, and Namor would get his rightful due as a hero.
He glanced up at the distant roar of incoming fire. His sharp ears picked up the shrill whistle of artillery fire cutting through the sky, and the noise of missile fire following it. His smile faded instantly, replaced by a scowl. "Scatter!" He roared, his voice carrying over the din of battle. His warriors, trained for obeying him in everything in combat, under any conditions, leapt into action, swiftly diving into cover or sprinting out of the residential block they were fighting in.
A moment later, the air was filled with explosions as the Chinese navy's barrage of artillery fire hit. The residential block erupted in flames, collapsing in on itself as so many pieces of rubble, as fire and smoke billowed into the sky. The heat from the blast washed over Namor, but he barely noticed. His eyes remained cold, focused on the destruction left behind, counting his men, ensuring they all made it through.
Landing lightly on a nearby rooftop, Namor surveyed the wreckage, his expression stern. He was uncaring of the flames and destruction behind him. This was war. Collateral damage was inevitable. But the Chinese were growing desperate, resorting to heavy bombardment to slow them down. They knew they were losing.
His people had survived so far, that was what mattered. The Taiwanese would at least be free after today, no matter their casualties, Namor was sure they would accept the cost as necessary. The Chinese were losing, that's why they resorted to firing from a distance like cowards. Knowing they could not stand against his warriors and their superior skill and Vibranium.
Still… The distant fire was annoying him.
Although it was something that should be stopped soon, if his allies did not fail in their own quest. He had faith that even if they did, those of his forces in the sea heading for the navy would take care of the problem for him.
Namor's frown disappeared as quickly as it had come. Victory was at hand after all. He stood tall, arms spread wide as he addressed his warriors below. "They grow desperate! Victory is at hand!" His voice echoed through the ruins, stirring the Talokan soldiers who responded with a mighty war cry that shook the very ground beneath them.
His heart swelled at the sound. This was why he fought. To lead his people to glory, to ensure their place in the world. With a proud smile, Namor leaped into the air once again, his wings carrying him higher as he surveyed the battlefield from above.
The streets below were littered with smoke, rubble, and the signs of destruction, but the Talokan warriors were relentless, cutting through the Chinese lines. They moved with the grace of predators, quickly cutting down soldiers, ignoring their pitiful cries for surrender. Who could take that seriously while they still bombed them? Namor watched with satisfaction as they pushed forward, securing their foothold in the city.
At times, Taiwanese men would attempt to flank the Chinese and get their own revenge, ultimately getting in the way of his people. His Talokan warriors couldn't see a difference between the Chinese and the Taiwanese, they all looked the same. Namor shook his head, not overly caring about the accidents such as those. The Taiwanese should have stayed home and left this to the superior warriors.
As he soared through the smoky sky, Namor spotted another gathering of Chinese soldiers, clustered near a barricade in the distance. Without hesitation, he dived toward them, moving with the speed and precision of a swarm of Piranhas swooping down on its prey. He landed with a thunderous crash, the force of his arrival sending soldiers stumbling backward.
One of the soldiers raised his rifle, but Namor was faster. His hand shot out, grabbing the weapon by its barrel and yanking it from the man's grip with ease. With a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed the gun aside, the metal crumpling as it hit the ground. "Flee," Namor said, his voice low but commanding. "Or you will fall."
He would at least give them that one chance to flee, as it would please the Captain to be magnanimous in such matters when the opportunity presented itself. Namor owed the man, and Fury, enough that he'd at least attempt this… Diplomacy, that they spoke of.
Some of the soldiers hesitated, their faces pale with fear, while others raised their rifles, but Namor gave them no time to react further. Since they'd obviously rejected his offer by their inactivity or raised weapons, he launched at them, spinning in the air like a whirlwind as his powerful limbs broke necks and skulls, leaving the soldiers dead or broken on the ground, as he circled overhead, watching as his warriors quickly took the ground.
Again, some Taiwanese soldiers attempted to move on the same spot, only to fall to his people, Namor could only shake his head at their foolishness. Couldn't they see that Namor already had this well in hand?
In the distance, more Chinese reinforcements arrived, tanks rolling down the narrow streets. Namor narrowed his eyes, his keen vision picking out the next target. He couldn't help but smile. The thrill of battle coursed through him like fire in his veins. Being a hero, fighting for something greater than himself - it was exhilarating.
He flew low, skimming the tops of buildings as he headed toward the tanks. One tank's turret swiveled, lining up a shot, but Namor was already there. He slammed his fist down on the turret with enough force to crumple the metal, and the tank groaned as its treads skidded to a stop. The machine was no match for him.
Namor rose into the air again, his wings a blur of motion as he soared higher. Below, his warriors continued to push the Chinese forces back, their shouts of victory filling the air. He watched them for a moment, pride swelling in his chest once more. This was how they would wash away the taint of the past - by standing tall and showing the world their strength.
Making them recognize it. Forcing them to acknowledge their might, and never again attempt to denigrate Namor. The true king of the sea.
"Talokan!" Namor shouted from the skies, his voice booming across the battlefield. His warriors roared in response, their voices joining together in a cacophony of power and defiance. They were unstoppable, and soon, the world would know it.
As he flew toward the next engagement, Namor couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction. Being a hero, fighting alongside Captain America to rescue this small nation - it was the right choice. Perhaps, in time, the world governments would even come to respect Talokan, to see them as the powerful nation they were. Perhaps they would lift the fines and humiliations they'd forced onto him, end the scrutiny he had to endure after Cairo.
Yes, Namor thought as he flew toward another gathering of Chinese soldiers, a smile spreading across his face. This was his path. This was his glory.
And the world would remember the name Namor.
At the same time, at sea.
The command center of the Chinese naval vessel was filled with tension as Steve Rogers slammed his hand onto the nearest console, indenting his hand in the metal, his face a mixture of frustration and sorrow. He had rarely felt more helpless than in that moment, watching yet another volley of missiles streak through the sky, their fiery tails a testament to the destruction they would soon unleash on Taiwan.
"Natasha!" He barked, his voice tight with urgency. "Get him to send the order, stop firing on Taiwan!"
Natasha Romanoff was already working on it, her eyes cold as she looked at the Chinese naval commander sitting in front of her. The man was sweaty, his face pale, and he yelled at her in rapid-fire Mandarin, throwing accusations and insults as if they were weapons. He was desperate, but Natasha, ever composed, didn't flinch.
Steve couldn't bear to watch the missiles disappear into the clouds, knowing that on the other side, Namor and his people were entrenched in battle. He clenched his fists, his knuckles white beneath the skin, and forced himself to take a deep breath. Namor would make it, Steve was sure of that, but they had arrived too late to stop the Chinese retaliation. It had taken too long to reach the command ship, too many obstacles in their path. Every second wasted meant more lives at risk.
Clint Barton jogged into the command center, his face flushed with exertion, a light sheen of sweat covering his brow. He gave Steve a grim nod. "Alright," Clint said, catching his breath, "They've stopped trying to rush us for now, but I'm running out of arrows. I can only keep them at bay for so long before we run into real trouble."
"Natasha?" Steve asked, his voice tense as he looked to her for answers. The weight of the situation was beginning to press down on him. His gaze flicked toward the Chinese commander, still raving in Mandarin, his arms bound behind his back. He looked defeated, but defiant.
Natasha was calm, her expression neutral as she worked, adjusting the comms. She toggled the channel for fleet-wide communication, keeping it ready, one hand sliding down the commander's shoulder, her fingers brushing lightly across his chest as she raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him.
"You know how this ends already." She said with a knowing look, her hand suddenly had a stiletto knife in it, as she trailed down his chest, before lightly resting it just near his belly button, pointed downwards. She cocked her head, "I've never done this and had a prisoner allow me to snip both. Do you really want me to even begin with one?"
Clint grinned, leaning against the wall, "She's right you know, people always talk, you might as well keep yourself whole."
Steve grimaced as he looked away, not comfortable with even the threat of it. But Natasha was only threatening anyway, right? She wouldn't do it… Surely?
The man's face went from pale to white to green. He muttered something under his breath, his eyes darting to the side, then spat out what Steve suspected was command codes, even if he couldn't understand them. Natasha's sharp ears picked up on them immediately, and she punched them into the console, sending them through to the rest of the fleet, before pushing the commander towards it, pushing his head down, her knife in the other hand teasing his cheek, "Now order them to cease fire." She whispered almost inaudibly.
The commander spoke slowly in Mandarin, Natasha shutting the channel off as soon as he was finished, pushing the man back into a seated position, patting his cheek condescendingly.
The silence that followed was deafening. Steve held his breath, watching the radar screen, waiting. The moments ticked by slowly, agonizingly, as each second felt like an eternity.
Finally, Steve's shoulders sagged in relief. The missile launches had ceased. There were no more blips on the radar, no more fire directed at Taiwan. "Good job, Nat," He said, though the words felt heavy on his tongue. He didn't like that they had to rely on Natasha's particular skill set for this, but he couldn't deny its effectiveness.
The Chinese commander glared at Steve, starting to yell in Mandarin, his voice hoarse with frustration. Steve glanced at Natasha, raising an eyebrow. "What's he saying?"
Natasha smirked, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she leaned her hip against the console, her body language dripping with confidence. "He's currently insulting the lineage of your great-great-grandmother and her affinity for dogs," She said, her voice dry with amusement.
Steve frowned in confusion. "What's wrong with liking dogs?"
Clint chuckled, exchanging a look with Natasha. "You… You've really been out of the loop, haven't you?" He asked, looking at Steve with an incredulous expression. "Did the guys never joke around when you were in the war?"
They hadn't had much time for joking around with Fury in charge, and with Banner always on a hair trigger back in Talokan, but surely… He must have at some point faced some raunchy jokes, right?
Steve shook his head, his expression turning thoughtful. "Not really. With the whole Captain America thing, most of them put me on a pedestal back then. I think only Bucky and Howard really never watched what they said around me." His face grew saddened, as he closed his eyes, and Peggy, he thought.
"Unbelievable," Clint muttered under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. Tony hadn't been wrong to call him a boy scout…
Natasha didn't miss a beat, her focus already shifting back to the task at hand. "The fleet will figure out something's wrong soon enough," She said, her voice serious. "Or they'll get orders from the homeland that override his -" She gave the commander's hair a playful ruffle, which earned a growl of anger from the man. His face turned an unhealthy shade of red as he spat out another string of Mandarin curses. "- orders, and the whole thing will kick off again."
Steve's eyes drifted toward the tactical display, where the Chinese naval fleet was still arrayed in formation around Taiwan. They had done what they could to halt the missile fire, but the situation was far from over. "We'll have to rely on Namor and his warriors to push back the ground forces and help disable the ships," Steve said, his voice heavy with the burden of command. "We can only disable so many ships before someone starts another round of bombardment."
Clint folded his arms, his brow furrowed in concern. "Namor's not exactly the type to take prisoners," He reminded Steve, his voice grim. "He's not going to play by the rules in this."
Steve winced. "In war, it's not always possible to follow the rules." He took a deep breath, the weight of those words settling heavily in his chest. He knew the cost of battle. He had seen it too many times.
Natasha pushed off from the console, her eyes sharp. "Do you want me to contact Namor's second-in-command? We can give them targets, focus their efforts where they'll make the most impact."
She'd thought Steve hopelessly naive to begin with in not ordering them to take the ships down. The diplomatic route was never going to work, no matter how many command codes they spit out.
Steve nodded, picking up his shield from where it rested against the console and strapping it to his back. "Yes, do that. While you keep this ship locked down, I'll head for the next one."
Before they could move, however, the communication channel crackled to life, the chatter from the fleet suddenly escalating in pitch and volume. Natasha's fingers danced across the controls, her frown deepening as she listened to the chaos unfolding. Something was wrong.
"Steve, wait…" She said, her voice tight with urgency.
Steve turned sharply, his hand instinctively moving to his shield. "Did they already get new orders?" He asked, his tone anxious. "We need to move quickly if we're going to stop them."
Clint, however, was standing still, his face pale, his eyes wide with horror. "Steve… Something else is going on, something way worse!"
"Does everyone speak Chinese but me?" Steve said with a self deprecating smile, trying to lighten the situation, whatever it may be.
The comms erupted in a chilling, metallic voice that echoed through the ship's speakers, reverberating off the steel walls and sending a shiver down Steve's spine. The voice was unnatural, mechanical, devoid of any humanity.
"The curse of flesh is at an end!"
Steve's heart skipped a beat. "What was that?" He asked, glancing around the room, his eyes sharp and alert. His hand gripped his shield, ready for anything.
Natasha swallowed, her face grim. "It's the Iron Legionnaires," She said, her voice low and tense, watching the communications spike across the fleet. "They've gone crazy. Hammer's machines are attacking everyone - Chinese, Americans, civilians, soldiers - it doesn't matter. They're targeting everyone. The Chinese fleet is being ordered to return to the mainland and to fire on anything that comes from the sky."
Steve's jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together in anger. "He's showing his true colors," He growled, his fists tightening. "Hammer's behind this." There was no other explanation in his mind. This was the betrayal they had all feared. "Can we run this ship ourselves?" He asked, his voice urgent.
Clint and Natasha exchanged a look, the weight of the situation pressing down on them. "Not easily," Natasha said, her voice tinged with frustration. "These systems are too complex to be run by just a few people, and we don't have enough time to teach the Talokan before the fleet realizes something's wrong."
The Chinese commander, still bound and sweating, muttered something under his breath in Mandarin. Clint scratched his chin, glancing at Steve. "He's offering to take us to the mainland. Says he'll help fight the 'iron devils' if we promise to join the fight."
Steve didn't hesitate. "Let him loose," He ordered immediately. "We don't have time for games. We need allies now, no matter who they are." Hammer was the bigger threat, and Steve knew that former enemies could become friends in face of a common enemy.
Natasha, her lips pressed into a thin line, untied the commander with swift, efficient movements. As soon as the ropes fell away, the man stood, glaring at Steve with a mixture of resentment and something close to greed. Steve held out his hand, his expression hard but sincere. "I will work with you to stop Hammer." He promised.
The Chinese commander spat something venomous in Mandarin, but he clasped Steve's hand in return, his grip firm. After a moment, he switched to halting English. "I will inform the mainland. You… You will fight the white devil with us."
Clint sighed heavily, leaning in to Natasha as the commander and Steve began discussing tactics. "This can only end well," He muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Natasha didn't respond immediately, her eyes distant as she processed everything that had just happened. Her instincts screamed at her to flee, to cut ties and get away before things got worse. But she couldn't leave Clint behind. She owed him too much to abandon him now. This was their fight, and they had to see it through.
Still, her mind turned over the implications of the Iron Legionnaires' sudden rebellion. This wasn't like Justin Hammer. He had always been a control freak, careful to manage his assets and maintain order.
He would not have ordered this…
Which begged the question?
Who was capable of laying Hammer so low, when SHIELD and the Avengers could barely touch the man or his company?
New York city, Hellfire Club.
Sebastian Shaw rolled the polished chess piece between his fingers, feeling the cool weight of the king as he leaned back in his plush leather chair. The lighting of the Hellfire Club's opulent inner sanctum cast deep shadows across his face, making his eyes gleam with a dangerous mixture of contemplation and ambition. The antique mahogany table in front of him bore the half-finished chess game he'd been playing against himself, but his attention was far from the board.
Hammer.
The name echoed in his mind like the rumble of distant thunder. Hammer's meteoric rise had been nothing short of astonishing - both in personal power and corporate might. It had been a boon for the Hellfire Club, bringing in untold profits, valuable connections, and political leverage. And yet, for all the mutual benefits, Shaw couldn't shake the feeling that Justin Hammer was a man who did not forget past slights.
In some ways he saw himself in the man to a disturbing degree… He himself would never suffer a slight, he'd always return with vengeance against such a thing.
Justin Hammer… If he felt the same way… Perhaps now was the time. Instead of waiting for the inevitable confrontation. Hammer did have some… Minor quibbles with him…
Especially when it came to Shaw's own manipulations - whether it was using the Chameleon to meddle with Stark Industries in a way that had drawn Hammer's attention, or his play for Hope Van Dyne... Shaw's influence had touched every corner of the corporate world, and Hammer was too sharp not to have noticed all his moves preparing for the inevitable fight. In truth, Shaw had expected a more aggressive response by now, something calculated and devastating. But Hammer had grown wiser, more patient, and that was far more dangerous.
"Justin's going to come for me eventually," Shaw muttered, still absently toying with the chess piece. The reports of Iron Legionnaires going berserk across the globe played in the background on a muted TV, the scenes of chaos and destruction reflecting off the dark glass of the window beside him. "The only question is when."
The quiet thrum of a soft melody filled the room, barely audible over the crackling of the fireplace. Selene, the Black Queen of the Hellfire Club, sat lounging on her throne-like chair, humming softly, her dark eyes half-closed in what appeared to be boredom. Draped in a black dress that was more scandalous than functional, she stretched lazily, her skin glowing faintly in the firelight, like a goddess surveying her domain. Shaw knew better than to trust her serene expression - behind her languid gaze was a predator, constantly watching, waiting for something to amuse her.
"Selene," Shaw called out, his voice even, though his mind was racing with possibilities. "Anything to add?"
The ancient sorceress glanced at him from under her long lashes, exhaling a bored sigh. "It's just some mechanical toys, Sebastian. Why are you wasting your time worrying over this?" Her voice was smooth, almost dismissive, as if the very idea of concerning herself with Hammer's actions was beneath her.
Shaw frowned. He knew better than to dismiss her words outright, but he couldn't shake the urgency that was building inside him. "Hammer's Legionnaires are turning on the world. That either means he's been outplayed or he's out of communication. Either way, it's an opportunity. A rare one." He set the chess piece down firmly on the board, the sound of wood against wood ringing in the stillness. "If we want to take him down, we need to strike now - decisively and ruthlessly."
Selene's lips curled into a slow, mocking smile as she turned her head to gaze at Shaw more fully. "Ruthlessly, hmm?" She purred, her voice thick with sarcasm. "You think you're being ruthless by backstabbing the man while he's down? Honestly, Sebastian, it's all so... Predictable." She waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal. "Your little games don't amuse me."
Shaw gritted his teeth but held back his retort. Selene's detachment from the 'mortal world' often made it difficult to plan around her whims. He knew he needed her on his side for this however.
Hammer, even distracted, was not an enemy to take lightly. Too many had done so, and the show in Cairo had shown exactly how much Hammer had grown. Sebastian did not want to test him personally.
Ideally Selene would take care of him from a distance before he ever had to worry. He wasn't sure how Hammer had managed to grow so powerful so quickly, he was positive the man wasn't a mutant. Or metahuman as Hammer had managed to rebrand them… None of Shaw's spies had been able to even get close to his business to find out - the man had annoyingly good security…
Eventually, he had to break the silence, carefully attempting to convince Selene of his plan, as he had many times before, his position so assured precisely because he was the only one who could ever direct her.
"Think about it, Selene," He said, adopting a more measured tone. "Hammer's influence has become too great. His empire stretches across industries, politics, and even our own circles. And that's just his company. He's something more now. You've seen his power firsthand. The man plays god on a whim - he's stolen entire nations from beneath their rulers, and yet he thinks we're all just pieces on his board. We need to topple him before he turns his full attention on us… on you!"
Selene leaned back in her chair, her fingers lazily tracing the edge of her glass of wine. She gazed at Shaw with thinly veiled disinterest. "You're afraid of him," She said, her tone soft and cutting. "That's what this is really about, isn't it? You've become the mouse in this game, scurrying about, trying to avoid the cat's paw."
Shaw felt a flash of anger rise in his chest, but he quickly swallowed it, it would not avail him here, "This isn't about fear. It's about survival," He said firmly, his voice low and dangerous. "Hammer's far too ambitious, and ambition unchecked is a threat. He's grown beyond what even you and I imagined."
He'd seen no problem in his political goals, nor in his business moves. What had finally made him sit up and take notice… Had been the fight in Cairo. He wasn't sure he could have touched Apocalypse, and yet Hammer had destroyed him with ease…
It rankled him that where things stood before, he'd felt confident he could destroy the man in combat if he needed to be forced to heel… Now he was not so confident anymore in the matter. In the darkest recesses of his mind, he quietly admitted that he would lose if it came to it. And that was unacceptable!
He needed Selene onboard, her magic could destroy whatever advantages Hammer had. Like she had destroyed so many of his enemies over the years.
Selene twirled a strand of her raven-black hair between her fingers, her eyes narrowing slightly as Shaw spoke. For a moment, there was silence, save for the faint crackle of the fireplace.
Finally, Shaw pushed forward. "He denied you your fun, remember? He kept you from indulging yourself when you wanted. Now's your chance to make him pay. You could tear his entire empire down, leave it in ruins, and take everything he's built for yourself." For myself… He thought.
Selene's interest piqued at the mention of being denied. Her dark eyes glittered with faint traces of magic as she sat up straighter. "I could destroy everything he's built, couldn't I?" She mused, her voice laced with a newfound hunger. "Tear it apart piece by piece and leave nothing but ashes."
Shaw smiled, leaning in as he saw the shift in her demeanor. "Exactly. You'd have free rein. Hammer's network, his allies, his resources - they would all fall into chaos. You could let loose, destroy anyone and anything you wanted. And no one would be able to stop you."
Selene's grin widened, her teeth gleaming in the low light. She looked almost feral, like a wolf ready to pounce. Shaw felt a thrill of satisfaction ripple through him. He had her now. He had finally found a way to weaponize her insatiable thirst for chaos.
"I can let loose?" Selene whispered, her voice taking on a darker, more dangerous edge. Her aura pulsed with dark energy, and the air around her grew thick with anticipation.
"Yes," Shaw said, his voice dripping with confidence. "Murder your way through Hammer Industries. Leave no upper echelon alive. Every executive, every ally - cut them all down. It's the perfect opportunity for us to step in afterward and snap up the best pieces of his empire."
Selene stood up from her throne, her movements languid but filled with a barely contained ferocity. Her eyes gleamed with bloodlust as she took a step toward Shaw, her fingers twitching as if eager to tear something apart. The atmosphere in the room grew heavier, charged with her energy.
But then, something changed.
Her eyes, once sharp with hunger, suddenly glazed over, her pupils dilating as she seemed to peer into the distance. The room itself seemed to hum with power, and for a brief second, Shaw saw orange sparks of energy flicker in the air around her, lighting up the shadows.
Shaw took a step back, his instincts warning him that something was very wrong.
Selene's gaze sharpened, her bloodlust draining away as quickly as it had appeared. She sank back into her throne, her eyes cold and calculating once more.
"No," She said, her voice clipped and final. "I don't feel like dealing with her today."
Shaw froze. "Her?" His mind raced as he processed what she'd just said. Who was this "her" that could stop Selene in her tracks? He had never known the Black Queen to back down from a fight once she was motivated, especially one that promised chaos and destruction.
"Selene, wait - " Shaw began, frustration coloring his voice. "We can't just let this opportunity pass. If we -"
Before he could finish, Selene waved her hand lazily in his direction. Immediately, Shaw felt an overwhelming pressure surround him, as though the very air had turned to liquid. His lungs burned as he gasped for breath, but no air came. His vision blurred, and his hands clawed at his throat as he struggled against the invisible force suffocating him.
Selene watched him with cold amusement, her eyes dark with satisfaction. "I said no," She repeated, her voice calm, though her magic held him in a death grip. "I don't care about your little plans, Shaw. And I certainly don't care about your fear of Hammer. I've indulged you long enough. Now... Sit down."
With a flick of her wrist, the crushing force disappeared, and Shaw stumbled backward, gasping for breath. His chest heaved as he clutched the back of a chair for support, glaring at Selene with a mixture of fury and caution. He knew better than to press her further, not when she was in one of her moods.
Although the hate sex was literally spectacular at times after - he really wished this had turned out otherwise this time.
"Of course, dear," He said, forcing a smile even though rage burned hot behind his eyes. "Perhaps next time."
Selene said nothing, her attention already drifting away from him as she returned to her lounging position, her gaze fixed somewhere far beyond the room. Shaw straightened himself, his mind already calculating, already planning his next move.
Who was this "her" that had made Selene retreat?
Next time, Justin… He thought, mind turning to other ways to get the man surreptitiously.
Triskelion, Washington DC.
Alexander Pierce leaned back in his chair, a serene smile playing across his lips as he surveyed the holographic display in front of him. The HYDRA council was gathered, their flickering images projected in the most secure conference room at the Triskelion that he had available. The shadows danced across his sharp features, but his eyes betrayed no emotion. Behind the mask of geniality, Pierce held nothing but contempt for the individuals before him. Each one of them was a puppet, more concerned with preserving their little fiefdoms than advancing the grand cause of HYDRA.
But now, he thought, now was the time to finally move forward. Chaos was stronger than it had ever been before. And their most mercurial 'ally' seemed to be off the board.
"This is an opportunity," Pierce said, his voice smooth and measured as he addressed the council. "The world is descending into chaos, and we are in a unique position to take control. This is not the time for hesitation."
Across the virtual conference, the Baroness - one of the more conservative voices on the council - scowled. Her arms were crossed, her posture defensive. "Better to wait out the chaos," She retorted sharply, her voice dripping with disdain. "It's too risky to make ourselves known. The world is not yet ready for what we represent."
Pierce felt a surge of anger at her cowardice but quickly buried it, replacing his frustration with an inquisitive expression. "When will they ever be ready if not now?" He asked, spreading his hands in a gesture of reason. "The world is crying out for order, Baroness. Look at them - they're desperate. Governments are collapsing, armies are turning on their own, and no one knows who to trust. We can step into the void. There's no need to fully reveal our real name, not yet, but we can still rule."
Daniel Whitehall, seated at the far end of the holographic projection, leaned forward. The silver-haired man had always been somewhat of an ally of Pierce's, and today was no exception. His fingers were tented in front of his mouth as he considered Pierce's words. "What do you have in mind, exactly?" Whitehall asked, his voice calm but edged with curiosity.
Pierce's smile widened just a fraction, pleased to have the attention of the more ambitious members of the council. "The United States is on the brink of internal collapse," He said smoothly. "SHIELD is currently protecting both the President and Vice President in secure locations while the battle for the White House rages on. The chaos outside gives us the perfect cover."
"The Speaker of the House," Whitehall interjected, his eyes narrowing with sudden realization. "He's ours, isn't he?"
Strucker laughed idly in the background, as he leaned back, eyes glittering, also having caught on to what he was proposing, that was two council members already onboard then, Pierce thought.
Pierce nodded, a glint of satisfaction in his gaze. "Yes. And with Hammer conveniently out of communication - whether he's dead, incapacitated, or just distracted - it's easy enough to frame him for the murder of both the President and Vice President. We eliminate them both, create a power vacuum, and let the Speaker take the helm." He leaned back, his confidence radiating across the room. "Two birds with one stone."
And by complete happenstance, not only was the speaker beholden to HYDRA, but to him, personally. Giving him a significant boost in power over the other council members. Considering he was the only one advancing HYDRA as a whole - it was only right.
Pierce wouldn't be the President, but he'd be the one holding the leash, which honestly suited him better. Yet… For such a move, he needed the authority of the council, or he risked them teaming up against him.
Whitehall's lips curled into a thoughtful smile as he pondered the idea. "Control over the United States is worth the risk of exposure," He said, his tone final. "If we're going to seize this opportunity, we need to do it now."
Strucker agreed, "It is not an opportunity that can be missed."
Across the holographic table, the Baroness and the Banker exchanged uneasy glances. They were among the more cautious members of the council, always wary of making too bold a move. The Baroness, in particular, was fuming. She shook her head, her face set in a scowl. "Hammer will not take this lying down!" She spat. "He's a wild card. We don't know where he is or what he's planning. And if we overreach -"
The Banker cut in, his voice low and steady, though there was a note of fear. "If this backfires, we will be laid bare before the world," He cautioned. "Hammer may be out of the picture temporarily, or permanently, but if he returns… He'll have everything he needs to dispose of us once and for all."
One thing they all could agree on, was that Hammer did not take betrayal lightly. They had to win with one stroke, gain such a position that the man, if he was alive, couldn't come after them. Forcing him to negotiate at worst, and submit, at best.
Pierce's eyes glinted with controlled fury, though his face remained smooth and genial. These two fools were cowards, blind to the opportunity that lay before them, he thought . But the others - he noted with satisfaction - were remaining silent, waiting, leaning toward his side of the argument.
Pierce folded his hands on the table in front of him, letting the silence stretch for just a moment longer. Then he spoke, his voice measured and calm, but with an undeniable edge. "Hammer is either dead or in so much trouble that it will not make a difference," He said quietly. "If anything, this is our chance to draw him into HYDRA proper. If he survives and sees the inevitability of our cause, perhaps he will finally join us."
Whitehall raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "It would be ideal if he served willingly," He murmured. "I would dearly like to study him, if given the opportunity..."
"We also have Project Insight on the way, do we not?" Strucker added idly, "The danger then is small, I approve."
"Madness!" The Baroness hissed, her face twisting in disgust. "This is utter madness! You're risking everything we've built!"
Pierce's smile didn't falter, but his voice hardened. "No, my dear, this is not madness," He said, leaning forward slightly. "This is opportunity."
The tension in the room was palpable, the council members exchanging glances, each weighing their options. Pierce could feel the tide turning in his favor.
"All in favor," Pierce said, his voice steady as he scanned the faces of his fellow council members.
One by one, hands rose in assent. Whitehall was the first, followed by several others. Even the Baroness, after a moment's hesitation, raised her hand reluctantly, though her face was still etched with disapproval. She'd seen the writing on the wall, and refused to be the only one on the losing side.
Pierce's grin was wide, elated, as he mentally counted the votes. He stood up, adjusting his suit with vigor. "Ladies and gentlemen, when we next meet, we will be in control of the most powerful nation on Earth. Hail HYDRA!"
The chorus of responses was a mix of fervor and hesitance, but it was enough. The decision was made. Pierce ended the communication, the holographic images flickering out one by one until the room was dark and silent once more.
He let out a breath, straightening his tie as he stood there with victory flooding his veins. The plan was set in motion, and with HYDRA controlling the United States, the world would soon follow. Ideally, he mused, they could convince Hammer to join their cause, bringing his empire under HYDRA's control. But if not…
Taking over Hammer Industries would be a worthy consolation prize.
Pierce allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. World order. That was what the people were crying out for amidst this recent calamity. Hammer's collapse - whether by their hands or by his own failure - would only expedite HYDRA's rise. The chaos was perfect cover.
He stood, his mind already moving to the next phase. Pierce quickly sent the order to eliminate President Ellis and the Vice President, knowing the Speaker would be in place soon enough. It wouldn't be long now.
Already, he was mentally drafting the press release. Hammer Industries involved in a coup attempt, responsible for the deaths of the President and Vice President. It would be believable enough, given the state of the world. Hammer had been a target of scrutiny for years, a disruptor of the old order. Pierce chuckled darkly. Even in failure, Hammer was the gift that kept on giving.
And if Hammer submitted… It wouldn't be too hard to twist the press to claim he'd been betrayed by his inner circle, to make use of the man still and clean his image up again.
Pierce walked toward the wide window overlooking Washington, his hands clasped behind his back. He could see the plumes of smoke rising from the city, a visual testament to the chaos that was spreading like wildfire. Soon, the entire world would be aflame with disorder, and HYDRA would rise from the ashes as the only force capable of restoring order.
"You picked the wrong time to be out of the loop, Hammer," Pierce muttered under his breath, watching the city burn.
Pierce smiled watching the burning city. He had always been patient, always willing to wait for the right moment. Now, the pieces were in place, and nothing could stop HYDRA from claiming its place as the true power behind the world's thrones.
It was only a matter of time.
"Victory is at hand," He whispered, his voice barely audible as the fires continued to burn in the distance.
Near Taiwan,
Tony Stark cursed under his breath, streaking through the sky at speeds that most would deem impossible. His HUD blazed with updates, notifications, and live feeds from across the globe, each one a grim reminder of the chaos he was hurtling into. Taiwan was just minutes away, but every second felt like a lifetime. His irritation boiled just beneath the surface, and with every blink of data, it threatened to bubble over.
He'd been forced to activate Friday, his backup AI, still in her developmental stages. As much as he liked to keep the atmosphere around him light, there was no humor to be found in the situation now. Jarvis - his faithful, brilliant AI - had vanished without a trace. Tony had muttered every curse in the book when it happened. He couldn't believe Jarvis would just cut out like that, not in the middle of an all-out global catastrophe. And that was exactly what this was turning into.
While Friday was doing her best, she was untested at this scale, and right now, Tony was forced to rely on her to manage the chaos back home. She was sending out his multitude of Iron Man suits, trying to rein in the carnage the rogue Iron Legion was wreaking across the United States.
Thankfully the X-Men were somewhat helping, because there was a limit to how many suits Tony had prepared. And the Iron Legionnaires definitely had the numbers advantage. And with Friday so new to things… His suits were not exactly operating at peak efficiency either.
"Jarvis better have a damn good explanation for going AWOL," Tony muttered bitterly, his hands clenching and unclenching inside his gauntlets. The idea that his trusted AI had abandoned him was still sinking in, and he didn't like how exposed it made him feel.
He hoped it was that. That someone had taken him was a thought he refused to consider. So it was his baby boy deciding to be naughty, it had to be. Tony was going to blast his servers with so much porn to punish him when he got back.
As Tony crossed the sea, Taiwan came into view. Or rather, what was left of it. Smoke billowed into the sky from various points across the island, and through his helmet's enhanced vision, Tony could see buildings smoldering, some already collapsed into rubble. Streets were littered with debris, and whole blocks looked as if they'd been leveled in the fighting. His heart sank, though he masked it with a grim scowl. The island looked like a warzone - because, well, it was.
Just ahead of him, the Chinese Navy's vessels were pulling away from the island, the fleet speeding back towards the mainland. His scanners picked up multiple targets aboard one of the vessels, and Tony immediately recognized them.
Talokan soldiers. And him.
Namor.
"And of course, who else but Rogers as well," Tony scoffed, the sarcasm bitter on his tongue. "Great job, Cap. Real helpful."
A part of him - a large part - wanted to fly down there and give Steve Rogers a piece of his mind. It was almost unbearable, the urge to dive down and confront him. All the pent-up anger, frustration, and disappointment surged forward, threatening to pull him off course. After all, what the hell was Steve thinking, working with Namor, someone who had attacked the surface world more than once? Someone who just leveled half of Taiwan, no less?
Tony hovered in the air for a moment, hanging above the disaster zone as his mind raced with conflicting impulses. He could already imagine the confrontation - the sharp exchange of words, the heated accusations. The satisfaction of letting Rogers know exactly what he thought of his sanctimonious self-righteousness. On how much his ideals cost other people…
But as much as Tony wanted that catharsis, there were more pressing matters at hand.
He gave one last, lingering look at the retreating naval vessels, and then turned his gaze back toward Taiwan. The fires, the crumbling infrastructure, the people trapped beneath the rubble… They needed him more right now. Personal grudges could wait.
"Friday, search and rescue protocols," Tony murmured into his helmet, adjusting his trajectory toward the devastated city. He knew Friday wasn't quite ready for this level of responsibility - managing multiple combat zones while orchestrating a rescue operation wasn't what she had been designed for yet - but there was no choice. She'd have to manage.
"Yessir, bringing up the worst-hit areas for you now," Friday's voice chirped in his ear, her tone less refined and lacking the subtle, reassuring warmth that Jarvis always had. Still, it was better than nothing.
Before she could finish compiling the data, Tony's sensors flared a warning, and he had to roll to the side just in time to avoid incoming fire.
"Whoa! What the hell!?" Tony cursed, deploying a barrage of chaff to confuse the targeting systems of the missiles. Gunfire also erupted from the Chinese Navy's vessels, narrowly missing him as he looped back into evasive maneuvers.
"Are you kidding me?" Tony growled, gritting his teeth. "Am I seriously getting shot at right now?"
Tony jetted upward, increasing his altitude as the Navy continued to open fire, determined to avoid a direct confrontation. He could already feel his frustration mounting - was this Rogers? Or was it the Chinese? Did they seriously think he was a threat, or were they just shooting at anything that moved? Either way, it pissed him off.
He spared one more irritated glance at the naval fleet, particularly the one carrying Rogers, Clint, and Natasha, before shaking his head. "Not the priority right now," He muttered, forcing himself to stay focused.
"Boss, I've located several key impact zones," Friday interrupted, her voice cutting through the frustration. "I'm seeing collapsed structures and multiple civilian casualties. Taiwanese emergency services are overwhelmed, and they're unable to help due to rubble blocking their way."
Tony exhaled sharply, forcing himself to push everything else out of his mind. He couldn't afford to dwell on Rogers, Namor, or even Jarvis right now. Taiwan needed him.
"I'm on it," He replied tersely, adjusting his course and diving toward the island.
The moment he entered the city's airspace, the devastation became more real. Fires raged across multiple blocks, casting an orange glow into the smoke-filled sky. Entire neighborhoods were reduced to rubble, with only skeletons of buildings standing amidst the carnage. Tony's sensors picked up hundreds of life signs scattered throughout the area, many of them weak and fading. People trapped beneath debris, their signals barely registering.
"Focus on the highest concentration of civilians, Friday," Tony instructed, his voice sharp with urgency. "We need to get as many of them out as fast as we can."
"Working on it, boss," Friday chirped, though Tony could hear the strain in her voice as she juggled the flood of information pouring in from all corners of the disaster zone.
Tony touched down in a cleared area, his boots crunching against the broken asphalt of what used to be a bustling street. Flames licked at the remnants of nearby buildings, and the acrid stench of smoke filled the air. His HUD pinged with multiple alerts as civilians in need of assistance were highlighted in his view.
"Alright, let's get to work," He muttered to himself, flying towards a collapsed building where his sensors indicated several people were trapped. With a quick scan, Tony found the weak spots in the debris, then used his repulsors to carefully eliminate sections of the wreckage, creating an opening large enough for him to pull out a family huddled underneath.
"Hey, you're safe now," Tony said, trying to keep his voice steady as he helped them out of the rubble, guiding them away from the danger zone. "Move quickly, follow the path behind me. Rescue teams will be here soon." I hope…
The family nodded, their faces pale with shock, but they moved as instructed. Tony barely spared them another glance as he turned back to the wreckage. There were dozens more like them, scattered across the city, and he didn't have time to waste.
"Friday, how are the suits back home holding up?" Tony asked, his mind still partly focused on the chaos unfolding in the U.S.
"Not perfect, boss," Friday replied, her voice strained with the effort of keeping everything under control. "The suits are managing, but the Iron Legion is causing serious damage. We're doing what we can, but we're stretched thin."
Tony clenched his fists, his frustration rising again. "I can't be in two places at once," He muttered. "Just… Do what you can. North America will have to hold until I get back."
He turned his attention back to Taiwan, forcing himself to block out the noise of everything happening elsewhere. There were people here who needed him, and he couldn't afford to lose focus.
As Tony jetted off to the next location, surveying the burning city below, he couldn't help but feel the weight of the world pressing down on him.
"Sorry, Hammer," Tony whispered under his breath, glancing at the destruction before him. "I can only deal with what's in front of me."
His people would have to handle things alone.
Minutes later, he was breaking his own word of only dealing with what was in front of him, as he desperately threw himself back towards the states, pushing his armor beyond safe limits.
Pepper!
New York Blacksite.
Xu Wenwu strode confidently through the massive hole his men had blown in the concrete walls of the 'hidden' blacksite. His posture was calm, his expression indifferent, as flames licked the edges of the shattered structure. The thick smoke hung in the air like a shroud, but it didn't bother him - he had walked through much worse. Behind him, his elite fighters moved in perfect formation, awaiting his silent commands.
Wenwu raised a hand, signaling them to halt. This was his path to walk alone now. He didn't need their help. His men were nothing more than an afterthought to him at this moment. His real weapon was already with him - the Ten Rings, and his superior mind and body.
He had been putting pieces into place long before he even knew he needed to be wary of Justin Hammer, saving the information for a rainy day, and now it would all bear fruit.
The defenders of the facility had preemptively cut the power to the elevators that descended into the lower levels. But that was a mere inconvenience to a man like Wenwu. With a subtle motion of his wrist, the Ten Rings around his arms lit up with a faint glow, pulsing with ancient energy. The ground trembled slightly as one of the rings shot forward, slamming into the elevator doors with a thunderous boom. The doors caved in, the metal folding like paper.
The ring buzzed as it spun around, before cutting through the entirety of the elevator in a rapid spin that was almost impossible to catch with the naked eye, the pieces of molten and cut metal falling down, after which the elevator shaft was left exposed.
Without hesitation, Wenwu stepped forward, casually walking into the now - destroyed shaft. He didn't fall - his rings, connected to his very will, hovered around him, gently slowing his descent as he floated downward. As he neared the bottom, he saw the defenders waiting for him, guns trained on the opening. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. They thought they could stop him.
He had to admit, there was some satisfaction in letting loose once again, things had grown… Stale.
His feet touched the floor with barely a sound, and as the defenders filled the air with plasma, his arm shot out, the rings spinning in a blur of motion. The first burst of fire was deflected effortlessly, the deadly plasma beams bouncing off the glowing rings as they moved faster than the eye could track, putting down half the defenders as their attacks rebounded. The defenders barely had time to react further, before Wenwu moved.
In an instant, he was upon them, idly noting that the 'killed' men were regenerating their wounds, and getting back onto their feet slowly.
To him, they might as well have been moving in slow motion.
He dashed forward with speed that might as well have been instantaneous as far as his enemies were able to parse it. His first opponent, a soldier armed with a tri-beam HammerTech rifle, didn't even have time to pull the trigger again before Wenwu was in front of him. With a contemptuous flick of his wrists, two of the rings struck the soldier's two comrades at his side, shattering their skulls into pieces, viscera raining onto the soldier.
Said soldier only had time for his eyes to widen in horror, before Wenwu drove a palm into his chest, sending him flying back into the concrete wall with bone-crushing force, his entire torso caved in.
He did not regenerate, Wenwu smirking minisculely as his rings glowed, his ring of absorption working wonders on Extremis it seemed. He might have to slow down on using that one then, or this would be all too boring…
Another defender rushed him from the side, firing rapidly, but Wenwu hardly needed to look. His movements were fluid, effortless, as he dodged the incoming fire. He pivoted, his body twisting gracefully, and his fist shot out like a viper's strike. His knuckles connected with the man's jaw in a brutal strike, a ring sliding forward with the motion, shrinking down as it went down his throat.
The shouts of horror from the other defenders as the man with the rapidly healing broken jaw turned around and fired at his comrades warmed a small kernel of Wenwu's cold heart.
Three more defenders opened fire, their weapons roaring as they filled the corridor with impossible to dodge beams of death. Wenwu didn't flinch. He extended his arms, and the rings responded instantly. They spun outward, creating a whirling barrier of energy that seemed to suck in the plasma. With a dismissive gesture, Wenwu sent two of the rings hurtling forward the fire that had been swallowed, returned at point blank range.
Extremis would not avail those soldiers, as their state could best be described as jellified. With a thought, the ring inside mister glass jaw, returned to him, sliding onto his arm, the man wetly flopping to the ground, cut in half by the rings return, Wenwu crushed his skull with his foot as he slowly walked by, a small contemptuous smile on his face, as he stared down the defenders.
Hammer had good men, he acknowledged begrudgingly. They still did not run. He mentally applauded their bravery and loyalty even as he derided their weakness and poor choices. Even as his heart beat faster, the blood covering his arms brought back memories of simpler times. Back when slaughter was the way to deal with any enemy, and pillaging and raping was not only appropriate, but expected. Simple times, perhaps - but he did miss it in some moments.
The few remaining defenders regrouped, one throwing a grenade in a desperate attempt to stop him. Wenwu's eyes barely flicked toward the explosive. With a mere thought, the rings responded, spinning in a circle before him, covering the width of the corridor, before a gout of flame shot towards the men, the grenade only adding to the inferno as it exploded as the fire reached it. The explosion lit up the corridor in a flash of fire and smoke, but Wenwu walked through it as if it were nothing, his silhouette framed by the destruction.
The Ten Rings were more than mere baubles of immortality, their existence and functions lost through time as Wenwu headed out to slaughter less and less with age.
They were so much more than even his own men believed…
He walked out into the next corridor, smoke wafting off his form, even as a soldier screamed in utter agony at his feet, regenerating even as he continued to burn to death, fat dripping off him, bone cooking, skin blackening, even as it regenerated again, Wenwu's flames not the kind that extinguished until he willed it.
Idly he wondered how long the man could burn, if he was still alive when he returned, he'd have to bring him home. An eternally burning man would make a nice centerpiece for his throne room. It would keep his men honest…
A pair of obviously enhanced soldiers stepped forward next, their eyes glowing with the unstable energy coursing through their veins as they pushed their Extremis to its limits. They rushed him with inhuman speed, but Wenwu was faster. His centuries of martial arts mastery showed as he dropped low, dodging their first strikes, and in one fluid motion, he swept the legs out from under one of them. The soldier hit the ground hard, but Wenwu was already on him, delivering a lightning-fast series of strikes to his chest and throat. Each blow was precise, methodical, and brutal.
He didn't even bother using his rings as he ripped part of the man's spine out of his skull and neck and used it to stab the other soldier through the eye, watching uncaringly as the man fell, his regeneration not able to help him with something lodged into his brain as such.
The rest of the defenders hesitated now, fear creeping into their eyes. They had no doubt been briefed about the Mandarin, but witnessing his power firsthand was another matter entirely from guesswork and rumors. Wenwu could sense their fear, and he relished it. He stepped forward again, his gaze cold and unyielding.
Another group of soldiers opened fire, this time with regular ordinance as their energy weapons had failed them, but Wenwu moved like water, his arms glowing, flowing between their bullets with ease. He weaved through the chaos, his body a blur of motion, and with each step, he closed the distance between him and his attackers.
The first soldier he reached raised his weapon, but Wenwu caught the barrel with his hand, twisting it upward as the gun discharged harmlessly into the ceiling. With a swift, brutal motion, he drove his elbow into the soldier's throat, sending him reeling back in pain. Before the soldier could recover, Wenwu lashed out with a spinning kick, the force of it sending the man crashing into the wall, all ten of his rings briefly leaving his arms to absolutely crush the man into paste, before sliding back on, all within a few blinks of the eye.
Another soldier tried to flank him, but Wenwu's reflexes were too sharp. He dodged the incoming strike, grabbing the man's arm and pulling him off balance. In one fluid motion, Wenwu twisted the soldier's arm behind his back and delivered a devastating knee strike to his spine. The soldier collapsed to the ground, incapacitated for a moment.
Long enough for Wenwu to snap his neck, and throw him at the few remaining soldiers who hadn't advanced, and was still trying to nail him down with bullets, one of his rings easily pinballing back and forth and deflecting the fire while he was busy 'playing' with the supersoldiers.
Wenwu turned just in time to catch a punch from one of the larger defenders, his hand gripping the man's fist effortlessly. For a moment, the soldier struggled, trying to break free, but Wenwu's strength was overwhelming. With a casual flick of his wrist, Wenwu speared the man through with nine rings, the man flying backward, crashing into the floor with a thunderous impact as his organs flowed out of his body.
The flooring was becoming difficult for the men facing him, slick with blood and viscera as it was, Wenwu calmly walking over it without a shred of difficulty. He didn't even pay attention as his rings destroyed another automated turret, having not bothered to worry about the mechanical issues for the entirety of his Sunday stroll.
As more soldiers rushed in, Wenwu decided to end this quickly - he was growing bored with this. The Ten Rings hovered around him, glowing with an eerie light. He raised his hand, and the rings glowed brightly, before dozens of beams shot forward in unison, striking down the remaining soldiers with devastating precision. Each ring moved with deadly accuracy, melting the men that faced him until there was not enough left to regenerate.
In mere moments, the corridor was silent again, littered with the few remains that survived. Wenwu stood in the center of the devastation, his posture calm, his expression unchanged. He hadn't even broken a sweat. The rings returned to him, floating lazily around his arms as if waiting for his next command.
Wenwu glanced around, surveying the destruction with cold detachment. These men had been nothing more than obstacles in his path. He had dealt with them as one might brush away an insect - effortlessly, and with little thought.
It was good to see he hadn't lost his touch entirely, he thought, although he was slightly displeased with how slow he'd been, he truly was getting old.
He continued down the corridor, his steps echoing off the walls as he approached the final set of doors. More defenders lay in wait, but they didn't matter. Wenwu had faced far greater challenges in his lifetime. He would walk through them just as easily as he had the others.
As he neared the entrance to the labs, the final group of soldiers tried to mount a last-ditch defense. They were clearly more elite, their movements precise and coordinated. But it made no difference to Wenwu. They moved in, striking with military efficiency, but Wenwu's martial arts mastery was unparalleled.
The first soldier came at him with a series of rapid strikes, but Wenwu blocked each one with ease, his arms moving with the grace of a dancer. He countered with a sharp palm strike to the man's chest, knocking the wind out of him before following up with a roundhouse kick that sent him crashing into the wall.
Two more soldiers tried to flank him, but Wenwu moved faster than they could react. He grabbed one by the wrist, twisting his arm behind his back, while simultaneously delivering a backhanded punch to the second soldier's jaw. The second soldier stumbled back, dazed, and Wenwu finished him with a swift kick to the side of the head.
Each strike of his, ending with the rings flowing forward alongside the strike striking them ten times as hard as they flowed down his legs and arms, absorbing their regeneration as he toggled that particular rings effect, ending them immediately with the power of the strike.
Wenwu stood again amidst the fallen defenders, his expression unchanged. He didn't even bother to look back as he approached the door to the labs. The path was clear. His rings floated silently around him, still glowing faintly with power.
Wenwu had known for some time the facility was here - his people following one of its scientists over a year ago. But he had held off, knowing Hammer would be able to defend the facility with ease if he struck.
He'd waited, patiently. Until the time to strike arrived.
He'd seen the chaos out in the world that he created - seen how it grew even greater then he'd anticipated, seen how Hammer did not react - and he'd realized this was the perfect time.
He would have preferred to go after one of his more known women, but they'd all disappeared with him.
Wenwu would make do.
Especially with what one of his men had reported recently… Tasked with a simple job at a nearby pharmacy, keeping an eye on the comings and goings of the people who entered and left the facility.
He made a gesture, and soon had a kneeling Shinobi at his feet, "Settle the cattle." He ordered.
Even with his orders to stay back, his personal guard had disobeyed, the only ones he allowed that honor.
They might as well make themselves useful.
…
Ten minutes later,
Wenwu stood tall and commanding, his dark silhouette illuminated by the flickering, red lights of the underground lab. The corridor behind him was littered with the remnants of his assault, the smell of death and blood cloying in the underground facility. Before him, kneeling in a line, were the three scientists that mattered enough to Hammer to personally recruit - Doctor Helen Cho, Doctor Maya Hansen, and Doctor Curt Connors. His elite soldiers stood silently behind them, weapons trained on the rest of the staff held hostage against the walls.
Wenwu clasped his hands behind his back, his expression cold but composed as he looked down at the scientists. They knelt on the floor, their hands bound behind them, heads bowed except for one. Helen Cho glared up at him, her dark eyes filled with defiance, while Connors and Hansen avoided his gaze, the weight of fear pressing on them. Connors trembled slightly, and Maya's posture was tense, her lips pressed into a thin line. They knew they were at his mercy.
"You show great loyalty," Wenwu began, his voice smooth and commanding, echoing through the formerly sterile space. "It is to be commended."
He paced slowly before them, his eyes scanning each face as if assessing their worth. There was no rush in his movements, only the methodical calm of a man in complete control. Helen's defiance caught his attention, and his gaze lingered on her. He admired her fire, but he knew that would not last long.
Breaking people was somewhat of a hobby of his after all.
Even now the Green Goblin, Norman Osborn, his broken toy - was doing his bidding, gathering up another hostage.
"Yet," He continued, his voice lowering with a dangerous edge, "It is loyalty to a failed leader. One who has left you to die. Who cares not for your safety."
Wenwu stopped directly in front of Helen, towering over her. He cocked his head slightly, his eyes narrowing in cold calculation. "Or…" He said, his voice carrying an almost amused tone, "Does he?"
Helen Cho glared up at him, her chin jutting out defiantly. "Justin will save us," She spat, her voice full of conviction. "He is a god now. He hears our prayers, and he will crush you for your blasphemy!"
Wenwu's lips curled into a faint smile at her words, he recognized a fanatic when he saw one, this one would be fun to break. The room grew colder, the tension thickening as the other two scientists shifted nervously. Maya nudged Helen with her elbow, trying to get her to stop talking, but Helen ignored her, fueled by her unwavering belief in Justin Hammer's power.
"A god?" Wenwu repeated, a low, humorless chuckle escaping his lips. "Then where is your god, woman?" His voice dripped with derision, but his amusement was short-lived. His eyes gleamed with a dangerous intensity as he stepped closer, his shadow falling over her like a dark cloud.
Helen lifted her chin even higher, her voice defiant as ever. "He is busy with something far more important than you." She said with a sharpness in her tone. "But he will come. You can't win. All you've done is earned my god's wrath. He will destroy you and everything you love." There was a hint of relish in her voice as she spoke, as if the idea of Hammer's vengeance brought her some twisted satisfaction.
Wenwu's smile faded into something colder, more predatory. He knelt in front of Helen, his face inches from hers, and she flinched ever so slightly as his gaze bore into her. He wondered what she saw in his eyes, if she saw her own broken body, her despair.
"I am counting on him taking issue with what I do today," He said quietly, almost conversationally. His voice was soft but held an undercurrent of menace, the calm before a storm, the promise of more to come.
Without warning, Wenwu reached out and placed a finger under Helen's chin, tilting her head up toward him. His touch was surprisingly gentle, but the gesture carried a weight of dominance that made her tremble slightly despite her earlier bravado. She glared at him, her eyes flickering with defiance, but there was fear there now, just beneath the surface.
Wenwu knew fear. Had studied it intently, had wielded it as a weapon so long he was fear itself - could taste as the woman's breath hitched, as she finally realized what he was here for.
Wenwu studied her, his expression unreadable. "I wonder," He mused, his voice barely above a whisper, "Will he be enraged if I take you? If I make use of you?" His thumb traced lightly across her lips, his touch sending a shiver of revulsion down her spine. "If I break you?"
Helen's resolve wavered for a moment, but she held onto her faith, refusing to show her fear even if it was obvious to Wenwu, who delighted in it.
"He won't care," Maya Hansen interjected, her voice tense and urgent. She glared at Wenwu, trying to draw his attention away from Helen. "We're just scientists. He has a dozen more to replace us." She argued.
Wenwu's cold smile returned, but it was more chilling than before. "No," He said softly, turning his gaze to Maya, "I don't think so."
He stood slowly, his eyes returning and never leaving Helen, as she trembled slightly under his gaze. He loomed over her, his presence suffocating, as if the weight of his power pressed down on her like an invisible force.
"I think," He said, his voice a low, dangerous murmur, "I only need one of you as bait." His smile grew as he ran a nail down Helen's cheek, drawing blood, "Or should I count you as two?"
Wenwu made a brief gesture toward his soldiers. Without hesitation, they opened fire, Hansen barely had time to curse his name, as blood splattered the walls, Wenwu standing still, uncaring of the flecks that dirtied his clothes, watching tears fall from Helen's eyes instead, even as viscera covered her from the scientists at her sides, lumps of meat falling to the floor with wet thuds.
Helen sobbed, her eyes wide as she watched the others fall. She cried out in a mix of shock and fury, her voice breaking as she struggled against her bonds. "No!" She watched Hansen and Connors, watched the light leave their eyes, and Wenwu let out a heady breath, eyes half lidded, filled with pleasure at the absolute agony in her scream as she threw her body over the mess that used to be people.
Wenwu's smile grew as he continued to watch Helen's reaction, relishing the despair that crossed her face. The lab was silent now, save for the hum of the rings around his arms and Helen's ragged breathing and mumbled pleadings.
"You see," Wenwu said, his voice almost tender as he stepped back from her, "There is no one coming to save you. Your god is absent, too busy with his own chaos to care about you. You are nothing to him." He tilted his head, "Except… You have something of his, don't you?"
Helen's lips trembled, her resolve shaken, but she didn't break. Not yet. She glared up at him, her eyes burning with defiance even as tears welled up. "He will come," She whispered, more to herself than to him. "He will."
One of his men came up to Wenwu, whispering, Helen just barely picking up on it, "We have Stark's wife." Wenwu only smiled briefly, nodding to the man.
Wenwu turned away from her, his back straight and his steps measured as he walked toward the door. He paused just before exiting, glancing over his shoulder with one final, chilling smile. "We shall see."
And with that, he left, the echoes of his footsteps fading as he disappeared into the shadows, leaving the bodies of the scientists and a shaken Helen Cho in his wake, his men picking her up like a sack of rice.
The trap was set. All that remained was for the so-called 'god' to take the bait.
Even an evil man like Hammer should care about his potential offspring, no?
Author's Note:
So, I imagine if I got reviews complaining about Justin always losing before, they'll build a salt mountain this time.
Here's the thing, mates, the enemy also sometimes make good plans. They're not all incompetent.
Justin is probably going to be slightly… Peeved with things.
But hey, at least Helen is alive, for now.
Also, I'm only supposed to write 10k chapters dammit! Why do they keep becoming 14k!
Cheers
JollyHippopotamus
As always, brought to you by the Patreon overlords that demand this story each week… Or else!
And because I've gotten some comments in this vein - Dude wtf!? Why is everything always going wrong for Hammer!? - I don't even really know what to say other than... What?
Only in fanfiction can you become a god and be on the precipice of taking over the world and get comments on how much you're losing all the time.
With that out of my system - enjoy the chapter - and don't cry too much after, this was always happening even before people began crying about so many losses.
Graphic warning: There will be some slightly graphic violence in the last scene, so for those who don't like reading what little of it there is - skip the scene with the bad guy taking an enthusiastic walk.
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc.
Hope you enjoy.
New York, Hammer Industries blacksite.
Doctor Connors paced nervously in the well lit lab, his eyes never leaving the flat-screen television mounted on the wall, which displayed live footage of Iron Legionnaires battling military forces across the globe. The sound of news commentators mixed with the distant thuds of combat footage, mostly centered in Asia. It was as if the world had gone mad overnight, and Connors couldn't stop gnawing at his fingernails as he watched.
"Nail?" He muttered again, for what felt like the hundredth time, hoping the company AI would respond. His voice was tinged with desperation as he tapped his earpiece. There was nothing but silence, no reply from the sentient intelligence that controlled so much of their world now. "Nail!" He tried again, louder, his fingers twitching nervously at his sides.
Maya Hansen, lounging in a chair near one of the computer terminals, shook her head in irritation. Her usual cool demeanor was on full display, though an edge of impatience slipped through as she tapped at the table. "Give it up, Connors," She said curtly, not even bothering to look up from her terminal. "It's obvious something's wrong, and you're not getting an answer." She swiped through a few more files, only half-engaged with the chaos unfolding around them.
The rest of the senior scientists gathered in the small lab were muttering quietly to each other. Fear had begun to settle in the room like a suffocating fog. Most of them were pacing, shooting worried glances at the glowing red alerts flashing across their own devices, unsure what to do next. In the corner, Helen Cho was kneeling on the floor, eyes closed, praying silently. Her lips moved rapidly, but no one paid much attention to what she was saying.
Maya rolled her eyes at the sight, the corners of her mouth curling into a half-smirk. "Really, Helen? You're praying?" She scoffed under her breath, though there was a clear disdain for the whole idea. "Justin might have some sort of god complex, but we're still dealing with very real problems here, he's not actually a god you know?" She folded her arms, leaning back in her chair. "This'll blow over like it always does. You'll see."
This did settle some of the scientists, as Hammer had indeed seen plenty of dire straits over the past few years, yet always came out ahead.
Doctor Connors didn't share Maya's confidence however. His eyes flicked nervously from the screen, now showcasing Iron Legionnaires marching across the White House lawn, to the ceiling, where a security camera watched them impassively. His face twitched as he chewed his nails even harder, muttering incoherently. "Nail runs this facility… She practically runs the entire company! How can you feel safe knowing that, seeing what's going on out there? That the AI isn't responding?" He gestured to the television in frustration.
The footage shifted, showing Iron Legionnaires in South Korea engaging with South Korean and American forces, the sheer scale of destruction rendering Connors almost catatonic with fear. The words from the earlier broadcasts haunted him, "The curse of flesh is at an end." The Iron Legionnaires had turned on humanity. This wasn't just some temporary system glitch - this was the endgame of whatever had gone horribly wrong.
Hammer had thread too far into the deep and had let an AI loose without shackles. Doctor Connors couldn't believe he'd never worried about it before. His boss' competence in general had blinded him from the risks. As a scientist he shouldn't take his cues from popular media… But… This really had some scary skynet vibes.
He glanced up at the camera again, worrying his lip, we're in a facility fully controlled by an AI, who's apparently gone off the reservation… "We're so dead…" He whimpered to himself.
The scientists in the room began whispering more frantically, the fear spreading like wildfire. A murmur of concern passed between them, a mixture of disbelief and mounting terror. Their voices rose in pitch, full of uncertainty as they glanced back at Connors, waiting for a response, for someone to do something.
From her position at the front of the room, Maya Hansen let out a long, exasperated sigh. She rubbed her brow as if dealing with a particularly frustrating child. "Great going, Connors," She said in a sharp tone. "Now you've got all the extras going." She waved a hand dismissively toward the other scientists.
One of the scientists - a stout, older man with graying hair and thick glasses - threw his hands up in frustration. "Extras? I have THREE doctorates from Yale!" He spluttered indignantly, his voice quivering with barely contained outrage.
Maya didn't even bother turning her head as she replied, her tone icy. "I'll call you something other than an extra once your research bears fruit, and not a moment sooner." Her words cut through the room like a scalpel, leaving the man seething but momentarily silenced.
In the corner, Helen Cho stood up smoothly from her prayer, her face serene as she regarded the others. "I have informed Justin as best I could of the chaos," She said, her voice filled with quiet certainty, as if her prayers had reached him personally.
One of the scientists scoffed openly, the sound dripping with disbelief. "You actually think he heard you?" The man from Yale shook his head, his expression one of disgust. "Religious balderdash." His words were full of contempt, eyes narrowing at Helen.
Helen smiled sweetly at him, but there was something unsettling in the way she cocked her head. Her hand moved faster than the eye could follow, and suddenly, she was holding three glowing syringes between the fingers of her right hand, each needle gleaming ominously under the fluorescent lights. Her smile widened, almost too wide, as she spoke softly, "I'm sorry, what did you say? Do you deny the words of Hammer? The divine light which gives us succor?" Her voice was laced with a disturbing amount of reverence.
The man gulped, taking a step back. "Hansen...?" He muttered nervously, looking to Maya for some form of intervention.
Maya raised an eyebrow, her expression one of complete disinterest. "Don't come crying to me. You chose to poke the crazy one," She said dryly, her gaze returning to her terminal as she scrolled through another file.
Helen pouted, her head tilting like a child who had been scolded. With a flick of her wrist, the syringes disappeared back into the folds of her coat, as though they had never been there. "I'm not crazy," She said in a sing-song voice, her eyes glinting. "You can be a scientist and a head priestess of Hammer at the same time. There's no rule against it."
Maya's voice was as dry as the Sahara as she replied, "Yes, how could HR forget to put that in the employee manual..."
And to think, Maya had actually at one point been thrilled to have Helen working with her…
At least the woman had one good point… She was always up for science, even allowing Hansen to take some tests with her new… Her thoughts were interrupted as Connors spoke again.
Connors, who had been alternating between chewing his nails and glancing nervously at the television, threw his hands in the air, his voice rising in panic. "How can you all be so relaxed!?"
Both Maya and Helen turned toward him, their eyebrows raised in identical looks of mild surprise.
"Because Justin will fix it," Helen said matter-of-factly, crossing her arms over her chest, "Because he always does." She narrowed her eyes, "I find your lack of faith disturbing." Her tone had turned sharp, the edge of her words carrying more weight than her earlier cheerfulness.
Connors stared at her, wide-eyed and disbelieving. He then turned to Maya, silently pleading for someone, anyone, to take this seriously.
Maya rolled her eyes at the display. "I'm fairly certain she's not making a reference, Connors. That's all her." She shook her head, visibly tired of the entire situation.
Suddenly, a distant explosion echoed through the facility, rattling the glass windows and shaking the walls of the lab. Everyone froze. The scientists looked at one another, wide-eyed and terrified, as the tremor subsided. Then, without warning, the emergency red lights flickered on, bathing the room in a crimson hue. The high-pitched wail of the evacuation alarm filled the air, accompanied by a cold, automated voice repeating the message: "Evacuate immediately. This is not a drill."
Which would have been more useful if this wasn't a blacksite that did not have any easy way to exfiltrate. Especially with the only way out controlled by the company AI… Who wasn't taking calls.
Maya shot a look at Connors. "Huh. Guess you were right after all." Her voice was oddly calm as chaos erupted around her. The other scientists began panicking, shouting to one another and rushing toward the exits in a flurry of lab coats and notebooks.
"We're all going to die!" Connors gasped, sinking into a chair, his hands shaking violently.
Helen placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, her expression softening. "Justin will resurrect us if we do," She said with absolute certainty, not looking the least bit concerned.
"God, I hope not," Maya muttered under her breath. The idea of actually having to consider Justin a divine being was too much absurdity for one lifetime.
Science and religion should just not mix.
She'd rather stay dead then have to look into Helens smug face if they were actually brought back…
Taiwan,
The streets of Taiwan were a war zone, debris and smoke clouding the sky as the Chinese occupying soldiers fought a losing battle. The Talokan warriors, clad in their ceremonial looking armors - that were made from Vibranium - and therefore far superior to anything they were facing, moved through the chaos like a force of nature. They were swift, ruthless, and precise. Chinese soldiers tried to hold their positions, but the Talokan's superior armaments and agility gave them the upper hand.
Namor, the king of Talokan, flew overhead, his ankle wings fluttering furiously as he weaved through the gunfire. He spotted a Chinese tank ahead, its turret swiveling toward his warriors. With a surge of speed, he dove toward it, his muscles tensing as he slammed into the armored vehicle with a bone-crunching impact. The tank flipped, crashing down the street and rolling like a child's toy. As it tumbled, a tank shell fired off in the chaos, screaming through the air and smashing into a nearby building, sending bricks and glass flying as the building crumpled, screams ringing out, briefly, before being silenced as the building fully fell in on itself.
Namor landed on the cracked pavement, his feet barely touching the ground before he shouted, "Forward, Talokan!" His voice was thunderous, filled with pride and command. His warriors surged ahead, moving like shadows in the smoke. They tore through the Chinese defenses, ripping through soldiers and destroying vehicles with ease. Namor grinned as he watched them work, his chest swelling with pride. These were his people, the finest warriors in the world.
No longer would they be held back, the world would have to accept them as the strongest nation on Earth after this display, and Namor would get his rightful due as a hero.
He glanced up at the distant roar of incoming fire. His sharp ears picked up the shrill whistle of artillery fire cutting through the sky, and the noise of missile fire following it. His smile faded instantly, replaced by a scowl. "Scatter!" He roared, his voice carrying over the din of battle. His warriors, trained for obeying him in everything in combat, under any conditions, leapt into action, swiftly diving into cover or sprinting out of the residential block they were fighting in.
A moment later, the air was filled with explosions as the Chinese navy's barrage of artillery fire hit. The residential block erupted in flames, collapsing in on itself as so many pieces of rubble, as fire and smoke billowed into the sky. The heat from the blast washed over Namor, but he barely noticed. His eyes remained cold, focused on the destruction left behind, counting his men, ensuring they all made it through.
Landing lightly on a nearby rooftop, Namor surveyed the wreckage, his expression stern. He was uncaring of the flames and destruction behind him. This was war. Collateral damage was inevitable. But the Chinese were growing desperate, resorting to heavy bombardment to slow them down. They knew they were losing.
His people had survived so far, that was what mattered. The Taiwanese would at least be free after today, no matter their casualties, Namor was sure they would accept the cost as necessary. The Chinese were losing, that's why they resorted to firing from a distance like cowards. Knowing they could not stand against his warriors and their superior skill and Vibranium.
Still… The distant fire was annoying him.
Although it was something that should be stopped soon, if his allies did not fail in their own quest. He had faith that even if they did, those of his forces in the sea heading for the navy would take care of the problem for him.
Namor's frown disappeared as quickly as it had come. Victory was at hand after all. He stood tall, arms spread wide as he addressed his warriors below. "They grow desperate! Victory is at hand!" His voice echoed through the ruins, stirring the Talokan soldiers who responded with a mighty war cry that shook the very ground beneath them.
His heart swelled at the sound. This was why he fought. To lead his people to glory, to ensure their place in the world. With a proud smile, Namor leaped into the air once again, his wings carrying him higher as he surveyed the battlefield from above.
The streets below were littered with smoke, rubble, and the signs of destruction, but the Talokan warriors were relentless, cutting through the Chinese lines. They moved with the grace of predators, quickly cutting down soldiers, ignoring their pitiful cries for surrender. Who could take that seriously while they still bombed them? Namor watched with satisfaction as they pushed forward, securing their foothold in the city.
At times, Taiwanese men would attempt to flank the Chinese and get their own revenge, ultimately getting in the way of his people. His Talokan warriors couldn't see a difference between the Chinese and the Taiwanese, they all looked the same. Namor shook his head, not overly caring about the accidents such as those. The Taiwanese should have stayed home and left this to the superior warriors.
As he soared through the smoky sky, Namor spotted another gathering of Chinese soldiers, clustered near a barricade in the distance. Without hesitation, he dived toward them, moving with the speed and precision of a swarm of Piranhas swooping down on its prey. He landed with a thunderous crash, the force of his arrival sending soldiers stumbling backward.
One of the soldiers raised his rifle, but Namor was faster. His hand shot out, grabbing the weapon by its barrel and yanking it from the man's grip with ease. With a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed the gun aside, the metal crumpling as it hit the ground. "Flee," Namor said, his voice low but commanding. "Or you will fall."
He would at least give them that one chance to flee, as it would please the Captain to be magnanimous in such matters when the opportunity presented itself. Namor owed the man, and Fury, enough that he'd at least attempt this… Diplomacy, that they spoke of.
Some of the soldiers hesitated, their faces pale with fear, while others raised their rifles, but Namor gave them no time to react further. Since they'd obviously rejected his offer by their inactivity or raised weapons, he launched at them, spinning in the air like a whirlwind as his powerful limbs broke necks and skulls, leaving the soldiers dead or broken on the ground, as he circled overhead, watching as his warriors quickly took the ground.
Again, some Taiwanese soldiers attempted to move on the same spot, only to fall to his people, Namor could only shake his head at their foolishness. Couldn't they see that Namor already had this well in hand?
In the distance, more Chinese reinforcements arrived, tanks rolling down the narrow streets. Namor narrowed his eyes, his keen vision picking out the next target. He couldn't help but smile. The thrill of battle coursed through him like fire in his veins. Being a hero, fighting for something greater than himself - it was exhilarating.
He flew low, skimming the tops of buildings as he headed toward the tanks. One tank's turret swiveled, lining up a shot, but Namor was already there. He slammed his fist down on the turret with enough force to crumple the metal, and the tank groaned as its treads skidded to a stop. The machine was no match for him.
Namor rose into the air again, his wings a blur of motion as he soared higher. Below, his warriors continued to push the Chinese forces back, their shouts of victory filling the air. He watched them for a moment, pride swelling in his chest once more. This was how they would wash away the taint of the past - by standing tall and showing the world their strength.
Making them recognize it. Forcing them to acknowledge their might, and never again attempt to denigrate Namor. The true king of the sea.
"Talokan!" Namor shouted from the skies, his voice booming across the battlefield. His warriors roared in response, their voices joining together in a cacophony of power and defiance. They were unstoppable, and soon, the world would know it.
As he flew toward the next engagement, Namor couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction. Being a hero, fighting alongside Captain America to rescue this small nation - it was the right choice. Perhaps, in time, the world governments would even come to respect Talokan, to see them as the powerful nation they were. Perhaps they would lift the fines and humiliations they'd forced onto him, end the scrutiny he had to endure after Cairo.
Yes, Namor thought as he flew toward another gathering of Chinese soldiers, a smile spreading across his face. This was his path. This was his glory.
And the world would remember the name Namor.
At the same time, at sea.
The command center of the Chinese naval vessel was filled with tension as Steve Rogers slammed his hand onto the nearest console, indenting his hand in the metal, his face a mixture of frustration and sorrow. He had rarely felt more helpless than in that moment, watching yet another volley of missiles streak through the sky, their fiery tails a testament to the destruction they would soon unleash on Taiwan.
"Natasha!" He barked, his voice tight with urgency. "Get him to send the order, stop firing on Taiwan!"
Natasha Romanoff was already working on it, her eyes cold as she looked at the Chinese naval commander sitting in front of her. The man was sweaty, his face pale, and he yelled at her in rapid-fire Mandarin, throwing accusations and insults as if they were weapons. He was desperate, but Natasha, ever composed, didn't flinch.
Steve couldn't bear to watch the missiles disappear into the clouds, knowing that on the other side, Namor and his people were entrenched in battle. He clenched his fists, his knuckles white beneath the skin, and forced himself to take a deep breath. Namor would make it, Steve was sure of that, but they had arrived too late to stop the Chinese retaliation. It had taken too long to reach the command ship, too many obstacles in their path. Every second wasted meant more lives at risk.
Clint Barton jogged into the command center, his face flushed with exertion, a light sheen of sweat covering his brow. He gave Steve a grim nod. "Alright," Clint said, catching his breath, "They've stopped trying to rush us for now, but I'm running out of arrows. I can only keep them at bay for so long before we run into real trouble."
"Natasha?" Steve asked, his voice tense as he looked to her for answers. The weight of the situation was beginning to press down on him. His gaze flicked toward the Chinese commander, still raving in Mandarin, his arms bound behind his back. He looked defeated, but defiant.
Natasha was calm, her expression neutral as she worked, adjusting the comms. She toggled the channel for fleet-wide communication, keeping it ready, one hand sliding down the commander's shoulder, her fingers brushing lightly across his chest as she raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him.
"You know how this ends already." She said with a knowing look, her hand suddenly had a stiletto knife in it, as she trailed down his chest, before lightly resting it just near his belly button, pointed downwards. She cocked her head, "I've never done this and had a prisoner allow me to snip both. Do you really want me to even begin with one?"
Clint grinned, leaning against the wall, "She's right you know, people always talk, you might as well keep yourself whole."
Steve grimaced as he looked away, not comfortable with even the threat of it. But Natasha was only threatening anyway, right? She wouldn't do it… Surely?
The man's face went from pale to white to green. He muttered something under his breath, his eyes darting to the side, then spat out what Steve suspected was command codes, even if he couldn't understand them. Natasha's sharp ears picked up on them immediately, and she punched them into the console, sending them through to the rest of the fleet, before pushing the commander towards it, pushing his head down, her knife in the other hand teasing his cheek, "Now order them to cease fire." She whispered almost inaudibly.
The commander spoke slowly in Mandarin, Natasha shutting the channel off as soon as he was finished, pushing the man back into a seated position, patting his cheek condescendingly.
The silence that followed was deafening. Steve held his breath, watching the radar screen, waiting. The moments ticked by slowly, agonizingly, as each second felt like an eternity.
Finally, Steve's shoulders sagged in relief. The missile launches had ceased. There were no more blips on the radar, no more fire directed at Taiwan. "Good job, Nat," He said, though the words felt heavy on his tongue. He didn't like that they had to rely on Natasha's particular skill set for this, but he couldn't deny its effectiveness.
The Chinese commander glared at Steve, starting to yell in Mandarin, his voice hoarse with frustration. Steve glanced at Natasha, raising an eyebrow. "What's he saying?"
Natasha smirked, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she leaned her hip against the console, her body language dripping with confidence. "He's currently insulting the lineage of your great-great-grandmother and her affinity for dogs," She said, her voice dry with amusement.
Steve frowned in confusion. "What's wrong with liking dogs?"
Clint chuckled, exchanging a look with Natasha. "You… You've really been out of the loop, haven't you?" He asked, looking at Steve with an incredulous expression. "Did the guys never joke around when you were in the war?"
They hadn't had much time for joking around with Fury in charge, and with Banner always on a hair trigger back in Talokan, but surely… He must have at some point faced some raunchy jokes, right?
Steve shook his head, his expression turning thoughtful. "Not really. With the whole Captain America thing, most of them put me on a pedestal back then. I think only Bucky and Howard really never watched what they said around me." His face grew saddened, as he closed his eyes, and Peggy, he thought.
"Unbelievable," Clint muttered under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. Tony hadn't been wrong to call him a boy scout…
Natasha didn't miss a beat, her focus already shifting back to the task at hand. "The fleet will figure out something's wrong soon enough," She said, her voice serious. "Or they'll get orders from the homeland that override his -" She gave the commander's hair a playful ruffle, which earned a growl of anger from the man. His face turned an unhealthy shade of red as he spat out another string of Mandarin curses. "- orders, and the whole thing will kick off again."
Steve's eyes drifted toward the tactical display, where the Chinese naval fleet was still arrayed in formation around Taiwan. They had done what they could to halt the missile fire, but the situation was far from over. "We'll have to rely on Namor and his warriors to push back the ground forces and help disable the ships," Steve said, his voice heavy with the burden of command. "We can only disable so many ships before someone starts another round of bombardment."
Clint folded his arms, his brow furrowed in concern. "Namor's not exactly the type to take prisoners," He reminded Steve, his voice grim. "He's not going to play by the rules in this."
Steve winced. "In war, it's not always possible to follow the rules." He took a deep breath, the weight of those words settling heavily in his chest. He knew the cost of battle. He had seen it too many times.
Natasha pushed off from the console, her eyes sharp. "Do you want me to contact Namor's second-in-command? We can give them targets, focus their efforts where they'll make the most impact."
She'd thought Steve hopelessly naive to begin with in not ordering them to take the ships down. The diplomatic route was never going to work, no matter how many command codes they spit out.
Steve nodded, picking up his shield from where it rested against the console and strapping it to his back. "Yes, do that. While you keep this ship locked down, I'll head for the next one."
Before they could move, however, the communication channel crackled to life, the chatter from the fleet suddenly escalating in pitch and volume. Natasha's fingers danced across the controls, her frown deepening as she listened to the chaos unfolding. Something was wrong.
"Steve, wait…" She said, her voice tight with urgency.
Steve turned sharply, his hand instinctively moving to his shield. "Did they already get new orders?" He asked, his tone anxious. "We need to move quickly if we're going to stop them."
Clint, however, was standing still, his face pale, his eyes wide with horror. "Steve… Something else is going on, something way worse!"
"Does everyone speak Chinese but me?" Steve said with a self deprecating smile, trying to lighten the situation, whatever it may be.
The comms erupted in a chilling, metallic voice that echoed through the ship's speakers, reverberating off the steel walls and sending a shiver down Steve's spine. The voice was unnatural, mechanical, devoid of any humanity.
"The curse of flesh is at an end!"
Steve's heart skipped a beat. "What was that?" He asked, glancing around the room, his eyes sharp and alert. His hand gripped his shield, ready for anything.
Natasha swallowed, her face grim. "It's the Iron Legionnaires," She said, her voice low and tense, watching the communications spike across the fleet. "They've gone crazy. Hammer's machines are attacking everyone - Chinese, Americans, civilians, soldiers - it doesn't matter. They're targeting everyone. The Chinese fleet is being ordered to return to the mainland and to fire on anything that comes from the sky."
Steve's jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together in anger. "He's showing his true colors," He growled, his fists tightening. "Hammer's behind this." There was no other explanation in his mind. This was the betrayal they had all feared. "Can we run this ship ourselves?" He asked, his voice urgent.
Clint and Natasha exchanged a look, the weight of the situation pressing down on them. "Not easily," Natasha said, her voice tinged with frustration. "These systems are too complex to be run by just a few people, and we don't have enough time to teach the Talokan before the fleet realizes something's wrong."
The Chinese commander, still bound and sweating, muttered something under his breath in Mandarin. Clint scratched his chin, glancing at Steve. "He's offering to take us to the mainland. Says he'll help fight the 'iron devils' if we promise to join the fight."
Steve didn't hesitate. "Let him loose," He ordered immediately. "We don't have time for games. We need allies now, no matter who they are." Hammer was the bigger threat, and Steve knew that former enemies could become friends in face of a common enemy.
Natasha, her lips pressed into a thin line, untied the commander with swift, efficient movements. As soon as the ropes fell away, the man stood, glaring at Steve with a mixture of resentment and something close to greed. Steve held out his hand, his expression hard but sincere. "I will work with you to stop Hammer." He promised.
The Chinese commander spat something venomous in Mandarin, but he clasped Steve's hand in return, his grip firm. After a moment, he switched to halting English. "I will inform the mainland. You… You will fight the white devil with us."
Clint sighed heavily, leaning in to Natasha as the commander and Steve began discussing tactics. "This can only end well," He muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Natasha didn't respond immediately, her eyes distant as she processed everything that had just happened. Her instincts screamed at her to flee, to cut ties and get away before things got worse. But she couldn't leave Clint behind. She owed him too much to abandon him now. This was their fight, and they had to see it through.
Still, her mind turned over the implications of the Iron Legionnaires' sudden rebellion. This wasn't like Justin Hammer. He had always been a control freak, careful to manage his assets and maintain order.
He would not have ordered this…
Which begged the question?
Who was capable of laying Hammer so low, when SHIELD and the Avengers could barely touch the man or his company?
New York city, Hellfire Club.
Sebastian Shaw rolled the polished chess piece between his fingers, feeling the cool weight of the king as he leaned back in his plush leather chair. The lighting of the Hellfire Club's opulent inner sanctum cast deep shadows across his face, making his eyes gleam with a dangerous mixture of contemplation and ambition. The antique mahogany table in front of him bore the half-finished chess game he'd been playing against himself, but his attention was far from the board.
Hammer.
The name echoed in his mind like the rumble of distant thunder. Hammer's meteoric rise had been nothing short of astonishing - both in personal power and corporate might. It had been a boon for the Hellfire Club, bringing in untold profits, valuable connections, and political leverage. And yet, for all the mutual benefits, Shaw couldn't shake the feeling that Justin Hammer was a man who did not forget past slights.
In some ways he saw himself in the man to a disturbing degree… He himself would never suffer a slight, he'd always return with vengeance against such a thing.
Justin Hammer… If he felt the same way… Perhaps now was the time. Instead of waiting for the inevitable confrontation. Hammer did have some… Minor quibbles with him…
Especially when it came to Shaw's own manipulations - whether it was using the Chameleon to meddle with Stark Industries in a way that had drawn Hammer's attention, or his play for Hope Van Dyne... Shaw's influence had touched every corner of the corporate world, and Hammer was too sharp not to have noticed all his moves preparing for the inevitable fight. In truth, Shaw had expected a more aggressive response by now, something calculated and devastating. But Hammer had grown wiser, more patient, and that was far more dangerous.
"Justin's going to come for me eventually," Shaw muttered, still absently toying with the chess piece. The reports of Iron Legionnaires going berserk across the globe played in the background on a muted TV, the scenes of chaos and destruction reflecting off the dark glass of the window beside him. "The only question is when."
The quiet thrum of a soft melody filled the room, barely audible over the crackling of the fireplace. Selene, the Black Queen of the Hellfire Club, sat lounging on her throne-like chair, humming softly, her dark eyes half-closed in what appeared to be boredom. Draped in a black dress that was more scandalous than functional, she stretched lazily, her skin glowing faintly in the firelight, like a goddess surveying her domain. Shaw knew better than to trust her serene expression - behind her languid gaze was a predator, constantly watching, waiting for something to amuse her.
"Selene," Shaw called out, his voice even, though his mind was racing with possibilities. "Anything to add?"
The ancient sorceress glanced at him from under her long lashes, exhaling a bored sigh. "It's just some mechanical toys, Sebastian. Why are you wasting your time worrying over this?" Her voice was smooth, almost dismissive, as if the very idea of concerning herself with Hammer's actions was beneath her.
Shaw frowned. He knew better than to dismiss her words outright, but he couldn't shake the urgency that was building inside him. "Hammer's Legionnaires are turning on the world. That either means he's been outplayed or he's out of communication. Either way, it's an opportunity. A rare one." He set the chess piece down firmly on the board, the sound of wood against wood ringing in the stillness. "If we want to take him down, we need to strike now - decisively and ruthlessly."
Selene's lips curled into a slow, mocking smile as she turned her head to gaze at Shaw more fully. "Ruthlessly, hmm?" She purred, her voice thick with sarcasm. "You think you're being ruthless by backstabbing the man while he's down? Honestly, Sebastian, it's all so... Predictable." She waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal. "Your little games don't amuse me."
Shaw gritted his teeth but held back his retort. Selene's detachment from the 'mortal world' often made it difficult to plan around her whims. He knew he needed her on his side for this however.
Hammer, even distracted, was not an enemy to take lightly. Too many had done so, and the show in Cairo had shown exactly how much Hammer had grown. Sebastian did not want to test him personally.
Ideally Selene would take care of him from a distance before he ever had to worry. He wasn't sure how Hammer had managed to grow so powerful so quickly, he was positive the man wasn't a mutant. Or metahuman as Hammer had managed to rebrand them… None of Shaw's spies had been able to even get close to his business to find out - the man had annoyingly good security…
Eventually, he had to break the silence, carefully attempting to convince Selene of his plan, as he had many times before, his position so assured precisely because he was the only one who could ever direct her.
"Think about it, Selene," He said, adopting a more measured tone. "Hammer's influence has become too great. His empire stretches across industries, politics, and even our own circles. And that's just his company. He's something more now. You've seen his power firsthand. The man plays god on a whim - he's stolen entire nations from beneath their rulers, and yet he thinks we're all just pieces on his board. We need to topple him before he turns his full attention on us… on you!"
Selene leaned back in her chair, her fingers lazily tracing the edge of her glass of wine. She gazed at Shaw with thinly veiled disinterest. "You're afraid of him," She said, her tone soft and cutting. "That's what this is really about, isn't it? You've become the mouse in this game, scurrying about, trying to avoid the cat's paw."
Shaw felt a flash of anger rise in his chest, but he quickly swallowed it, it would not avail him here, "This isn't about fear. It's about survival," He said firmly, his voice low and dangerous. "Hammer's far too ambitious, and ambition unchecked is a threat. He's grown beyond what even you and I imagined."
He'd seen no problem in his political goals, nor in his business moves. What had finally made him sit up and take notice… Had been the fight in Cairo. He wasn't sure he could have touched Apocalypse, and yet Hammer had destroyed him with ease…
It rankled him that where things stood before, he'd felt confident he could destroy the man in combat if he needed to be forced to heel… Now he was not so confident anymore in the matter. In the darkest recesses of his mind, he quietly admitted that he would lose if it came to it. And that was unacceptable!
He needed Selene onboard, her magic could destroy whatever advantages Hammer had. Like she had destroyed so many of his enemies over the years.
Selene twirled a strand of her raven-black hair between her fingers, her eyes narrowing slightly as Shaw spoke. For a moment, there was silence, save for the faint crackle of the fireplace.
Finally, Shaw pushed forward. "He denied you your fun, remember? He kept you from indulging yourself when you wanted. Now's your chance to make him pay. You could tear his entire empire down, leave it in ruins, and take everything he's built for yourself." For myself… He thought.
Selene's interest piqued at the mention of being denied. Her dark eyes glittered with faint traces of magic as she sat up straighter. "I could destroy everything he's built, couldn't I?" She mused, her voice laced with a newfound hunger. "Tear it apart piece by piece and leave nothing but ashes."
Shaw smiled, leaning in as he saw the shift in her demeanor. "Exactly. You'd have free rein. Hammer's network, his allies, his resources - they would all fall into chaos. You could let loose, destroy anyone and anything you wanted. And no one would be able to stop you."
Selene's grin widened, her teeth gleaming in the low light. She looked almost feral, like a wolf ready to pounce. Shaw felt a thrill of satisfaction ripple through him. He had her now. He had finally found a way to weaponize her insatiable thirst for chaos.
"I can let loose?" Selene whispered, her voice taking on a darker, more dangerous edge. Her aura pulsed with dark energy, and the air around her grew thick with anticipation.
"Yes," Shaw said, his voice dripping with confidence. "Murder your way through Hammer Industries. Leave no upper echelon alive. Every executive, every ally - cut them all down. It's the perfect opportunity for us to step in afterward and snap up the best pieces of his empire."
Selene stood up from her throne, her movements languid but filled with a barely contained ferocity. Her eyes gleamed with bloodlust as she took a step toward Shaw, her fingers twitching as if eager to tear something apart. The atmosphere in the room grew heavier, charged with her energy.
But then, something changed.
Her eyes, once sharp with hunger, suddenly glazed over, her pupils dilating as she seemed to peer into the distance. The room itself seemed to hum with power, and for a brief second, Shaw saw orange sparks of energy flicker in the air around her, lighting up the shadows.
Shaw took a step back, his instincts warning him that something was very wrong.
Selene's gaze sharpened, her bloodlust draining away as quickly as it had appeared. She sank back into her throne, her eyes cold and calculating once more.
"No," She said, her voice clipped and final. "I don't feel like dealing with her today."
Shaw froze. "Her?" His mind raced as he processed what she'd just said. Who was this "her" that could stop Selene in her tracks? He had never known the Black Queen to back down from a fight once she was motivated, especially one that promised chaos and destruction.
"Selene, wait - " Shaw began, frustration coloring his voice. "We can't just let this opportunity pass. If we -"
Before he could finish, Selene waved her hand lazily in his direction. Immediately, Shaw felt an overwhelming pressure surround him, as though the very air had turned to liquid. His lungs burned as he gasped for breath, but no air came. His vision blurred, and his hands clawed at his throat as he struggled against the invisible force suffocating him.
Selene watched him with cold amusement, her eyes dark with satisfaction. "I said no," She repeated, her voice calm, though her magic held him in a death grip. "I don't care about your little plans, Shaw. And I certainly don't care about your fear of Hammer. I've indulged you long enough. Now... Sit down."
With a flick of her wrist, the crushing force disappeared, and Shaw stumbled backward, gasping for breath. His chest heaved as he clutched the back of a chair for support, glaring at Selene with a mixture of fury and caution. He knew better than to press her further, not when she was in one of her moods.
Although the hate sex was literally spectacular at times after - he really wished this had turned out otherwise this time.
"Of course, dear," He said, forcing a smile even though rage burned hot behind his eyes. "Perhaps next time."
Selene said nothing, her attention already drifting away from him as she returned to her lounging position, her gaze fixed somewhere far beyond the room. Shaw straightened himself, his mind already calculating, already planning his next move.
Who was this "her" that had made Selene retreat?
Next time, Justin… He thought, mind turning to other ways to get the man surreptitiously.
Triskelion, Washington DC.
Alexander Pierce leaned back in his chair, a serene smile playing across his lips as he surveyed the holographic display in front of him. The HYDRA council was gathered, their flickering images projected in the most secure conference room at the Triskelion that he had available. The shadows danced across his sharp features, but his eyes betrayed no emotion. Behind the mask of geniality, Pierce held nothing but contempt for the individuals before him. Each one of them was a puppet, more concerned with preserving their little fiefdoms than advancing the grand cause of HYDRA.
But now, he thought, now was the time to finally move forward. Chaos was stronger than it had ever been before. And their most mercurial 'ally' seemed to be off the board.
"This is an opportunity," Pierce said, his voice smooth and measured as he addressed the council. "The world is descending into chaos, and we are in a unique position to take control. This is not the time for hesitation."
Across the virtual conference, the Baroness - one of the more conservative voices on the council - scowled. Her arms were crossed, her posture defensive. "Better to wait out the chaos," She retorted sharply, her voice dripping with disdain. "It's too risky to make ourselves known. The world is not yet ready for what we represent."
Pierce felt a surge of anger at her cowardice but quickly buried it, replacing his frustration with an inquisitive expression. "When will they ever be ready if not now?" He asked, spreading his hands in a gesture of reason. "The world is crying out for order, Baroness. Look at them - they're desperate. Governments are collapsing, armies are turning on their own, and no one knows who to trust. We can step into the void. There's no need to fully reveal our real name, not yet, but we can still rule."
Daniel Whitehall, seated at the far end of the holographic projection, leaned forward. The silver-haired man had always been somewhat of an ally of Pierce's, and today was no exception. His fingers were tented in front of his mouth as he considered Pierce's words. "What do you have in mind, exactly?" Whitehall asked, his voice calm but edged with curiosity.
Pierce's smile widened just a fraction, pleased to have the attention of the more ambitious members of the council. "The United States is on the brink of internal collapse," He said smoothly. "SHIELD is currently protecting both the President and Vice President in secure locations while the battle for the White House rages on. The chaos outside gives us the perfect cover."
"The Speaker of the House," Whitehall interjected, his eyes narrowing with sudden realization. "He's ours, isn't he?"
Strucker laughed idly in the background, as he leaned back, eyes glittering, also having caught on to what he was proposing, that was two council members already onboard then, Pierce thought.
Pierce nodded, a glint of satisfaction in his gaze. "Yes. And with Hammer conveniently out of communication - whether he's dead, incapacitated, or just distracted - it's easy enough to frame him for the murder of both the President and Vice President. We eliminate them both, create a power vacuum, and let the Speaker take the helm." He leaned back, his confidence radiating across the room. "Two birds with one stone."
And by complete happenstance, not only was the speaker beholden to HYDRA, but to him, personally. Giving him a significant boost in power over the other council members. Considering he was the only one advancing HYDRA as a whole - it was only right.
Pierce wouldn't be the President, but he'd be the one holding the leash, which honestly suited him better. Yet… For such a move, he needed the authority of the council, or he risked them teaming up against him.
Whitehall's lips curled into a thoughtful smile as he pondered the idea. "Control over the United States is worth the risk of exposure," He said, his tone final. "If we're going to seize this opportunity, we need to do it now."
Strucker agreed, "It is not an opportunity that can be missed."
Across the holographic table, the Baroness and the Banker exchanged uneasy glances. They were among the more cautious members of the council, always wary of making too bold a move. The Baroness, in particular, was fuming. She shook her head, her face set in a scowl. "Hammer will not take this lying down!" She spat. "He's a wild card. We don't know where he is or what he's planning. And if we overreach -"
The Banker cut in, his voice low and steady, though there was a note of fear. "If this backfires, we will be laid bare before the world," He cautioned. "Hammer may be out of the picture temporarily, or permanently, but if he returns… He'll have everything he needs to dispose of us once and for all."
One thing they all could agree on, was that Hammer did not take betrayal lightly. They had to win with one stroke, gain such a position that the man, if he was alive, couldn't come after them. Forcing him to negotiate at worst, and submit, at best.
Pierce's eyes glinted with controlled fury, though his face remained smooth and genial. These two fools were cowards, blind to the opportunity that lay before them, he thought . But the others - he noted with satisfaction - were remaining silent, waiting, leaning toward his side of the argument.
Pierce folded his hands on the table in front of him, letting the silence stretch for just a moment longer. Then he spoke, his voice measured and calm, but with an undeniable edge. "Hammer is either dead or in so much trouble that it will not make a difference," He said quietly. "If anything, this is our chance to draw him into HYDRA proper. If he survives and sees the inevitability of our cause, perhaps he will finally join us."
Whitehall raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "It would be ideal if he served willingly," He murmured. "I would dearly like to study him, if given the opportunity..."
"We also have Project Insight on the way, do we not?" Strucker added idly, "The danger then is small, I approve."
"Madness!" The Baroness hissed, her face twisting in disgust. "This is utter madness! You're risking everything we've built!"
Pierce's smile didn't falter, but his voice hardened. "No, my dear, this is not madness," He said, leaning forward slightly. "This is opportunity."
The tension in the room was palpable, the council members exchanging glances, each weighing their options. Pierce could feel the tide turning in his favor.
"All in favor," Pierce said, his voice steady as he scanned the faces of his fellow council members.
One by one, hands rose in assent. Whitehall was the first, followed by several others. Even the Baroness, after a moment's hesitation, raised her hand reluctantly, though her face was still etched with disapproval. She'd seen the writing on the wall, and refused to be the only one on the losing side.
Pierce's grin was wide, elated, as he mentally counted the votes. He stood up, adjusting his suit with vigor. "Ladies and gentlemen, when we next meet, we will be in control of the most powerful nation on Earth. Hail HYDRA!"
The chorus of responses was a mix of fervor and hesitance, but it was enough. The decision was made. Pierce ended the communication, the holographic images flickering out one by one until the room was dark and silent once more.
He let out a breath, straightening his tie as he stood there with victory flooding his veins. The plan was set in motion, and with HYDRA controlling the United States, the world would soon follow. Ideally, he mused, they could convince Hammer to join their cause, bringing his empire under HYDRA's control. But if not…
Taking over Hammer Industries would be a worthy consolation prize.
Pierce allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. World order. That was what the people were crying out for amidst this recent calamity. Hammer's collapse - whether by their hands or by his own failure - would only expedite HYDRA's rise. The chaos was perfect cover.
He stood, his mind already moving to the next phase. Pierce quickly sent the order to eliminate President Ellis and the Vice President, knowing the Speaker would be in place soon enough. It wouldn't be long now.
Already, he was mentally drafting the press release. Hammer Industries involved in a coup attempt, responsible for the deaths of the President and Vice President. It would be believable enough, given the state of the world. Hammer had been a target of scrutiny for years, a disruptor of the old order. Pierce chuckled darkly. Even in failure, Hammer was the gift that kept on giving.
And if Hammer submitted… It wouldn't be too hard to twist the press to claim he'd been betrayed by his inner circle, to make use of the man still and clean his image up again.
Pierce walked toward the wide window overlooking Washington, his hands clasped behind his back. He could see the plumes of smoke rising from the city, a visual testament to the chaos that was spreading like wildfire. Soon, the entire world would be aflame with disorder, and HYDRA would rise from the ashes as the only force capable of restoring order.
"You picked the wrong time to be out of the loop, Hammer," Pierce muttered under his breath, watching the city burn.
Pierce smiled watching the burning city. He had always been patient, always willing to wait for the right moment. Now, the pieces were in place, and nothing could stop HYDRA from claiming its place as the true power behind the world's thrones.
It was only a matter of time.
"Victory is at hand," He whispered, his voice barely audible as the fires continued to burn in the distance.
Near Taiwan,
Tony Stark cursed under his breath, streaking through the sky at speeds that most would deem impossible. His HUD blazed with updates, notifications, and live feeds from across the globe, each one a grim reminder of the chaos he was hurtling into. Taiwan was just minutes away, but every second felt like a lifetime. His irritation boiled just beneath the surface, and with every blink of data, it threatened to bubble over.
He'd been forced to activate Friday, his backup AI, still in her developmental stages. As much as he liked to keep the atmosphere around him light, there was no humor to be found in the situation now. Jarvis - his faithful, brilliant AI - had vanished without a trace. Tony had muttered every curse in the book when it happened. He couldn't believe Jarvis would just cut out like that, not in the middle of an all-out global catastrophe. And that was exactly what this was turning into.
While Friday was doing her best, she was untested at this scale, and right now, Tony was forced to rely on her to manage the chaos back home. She was sending out his multitude of Iron Man suits, trying to rein in the carnage the rogue Iron Legion was wreaking across the United States.
Thankfully the X-Men were somewhat helping, because there was a limit to how many suits Tony had prepared. And the Iron Legionnaires definitely had the numbers advantage. And with Friday so new to things… His suits were not exactly operating at peak efficiency either.
"Jarvis better have a damn good explanation for going AWOL," Tony muttered bitterly, his hands clenching and unclenching inside his gauntlets. The idea that his trusted AI had abandoned him was still sinking in, and he didn't like how exposed it made him feel.
He hoped it was that. That someone had taken him was a thought he refused to consider. So it was his baby boy deciding to be naughty, it had to be. Tony was going to blast his servers with so much porn to punish him when he got back.
As Tony crossed the sea, Taiwan came into view. Or rather, what was left of it. Smoke billowed into the sky from various points across the island, and through his helmet's enhanced vision, Tony could see buildings smoldering, some already collapsed into rubble. Streets were littered with debris, and whole blocks looked as if they'd been leveled in the fighting. His heart sank, though he masked it with a grim scowl. The island looked like a warzone - because, well, it was.
Just ahead of him, the Chinese Navy's vessels were pulling away from the island, the fleet speeding back towards the mainland. His scanners picked up multiple targets aboard one of the vessels, and Tony immediately recognized them.
Talokan soldiers. And him.
Namor.
"And of course, who else but Rogers as well," Tony scoffed, the sarcasm bitter on his tongue. "Great job, Cap. Real helpful."
A part of him - a large part - wanted to fly down there and give Steve Rogers a piece of his mind. It was almost unbearable, the urge to dive down and confront him. All the pent-up anger, frustration, and disappointment surged forward, threatening to pull him off course. After all, what the hell was Steve thinking, working with Namor, someone who had attacked the surface world more than once? Someone who just leveled half of Taiwan, no less?
Tony hovered in the air for a moment, hanging above the disaster zone as his mind raced with conflicting impulses. He could already imagine the confrontation - the sharp exchange of words, the heated accusations. The satisfaction of letting Rogers know exactly what he thought of his sanctimonious self-righteousness. On how much his ideals cost other people…
But as much as Tony wanted that catharsis, there were more pressing matters at hand.
He gave one last, lingering look at the retreating naval vessels, and then turned his gaze back toward Taiwan. The fires, the crumbling infrastructure, the people trapped beneath the rubble… They needed him more right now. Personal grudges could wait.
"Friday, search and rescue protocols," Tony murmured into his helmet, adjusting his trajectory toward the devastated city. He knew Friday wasn't quite ready for this level of responsibility - managing multiple combat zones while orchestrating a rescue operation wasn't what she had been designed for yet - but there was no choice. She'd have to manage.
"Yessir, bringing up the worst-hit areas for you now," Friday's voice chirped in his ear, her tone less refined and lacking the subtle, reassuring warmth that Jarvis always had. Still, it was better than nothing.
Before she could finish compiling the data, Tony's sensors flared a warning, and he had to roll to the side just in time to avoid incoming fire.
"Whoa! What the hell!?" Tony cursed, deploying a barrage of chaff to confuse the targeting systems of the missiles. Gunfire also erupted from the Chinese Navy's vessels, narrowly missing him as he looped back into evasive maneuvers.
"Are you kidding me?" Tony growled, gritting his teeth. "Am I seriously getting shot at right now?"
Tony jetted upward, increasing his altitude as the Navy continued to open fire, determined to avoid a direct confrontation. He could already feel his frustration mounting - was this Rogers? Or was it the Chinese? Did they seriously think he was a threat, or were they just shooting at anything that moved? Either way, it pissed him off.
He spared one more irritated glance at the naval fleet, particularly the one carrying Rogers, Clint, and Natasha, before shaking his head. "Not the priority right now," He muttered, forcing himself to stay focused.
"Boss, I've located several key impact zones," Friday interrupted, her voice cutting through the frustration. "I'm seeing collapsed structures and multiple civilian casualties. Taiwanese emergency services are overwhelmed, and they're unable to help due to rubble blocking their way."
Tony exhaled sharply, forcing himself to push everything else out of his mind. He couldn't afford to dwell on Rogers, Namor, or even Jarvis right now. Taiwan needed him.
"I'm on it," He replied tersely, adjusting his course and diving toward the island.
The moment he entered the city's airspace, the devastation became more real. Fires raged across multiple blocks, casting an orange glow into the smoke-filled sky. Entire neighborhoods were reduced to rubble, with only skeletons of buildings standing amidst the carnage. Tony's sensors picked up hundreds of life signs scattered throughout the area, many of them weak and fading. People trapped beneath debris, their signals barely registering.
"Focus on the highest concentration of civilians, Friday," Tony instructed, his voice sharp with urgency. "We need to get as many of them out as fast as we can."
"Working on it, boss," Friday chirped, though Tony could hear the strain in her voice as she juggled the flood of information pouring in from all corners of the disaster zone.
Tony touched down in a cleared area, his boots crunching against the broken asphalt of what used to be a bustling street. Flames licked at the remnants of nearby buildings, and the acrid stench of smoke filled the air. His HUD pinged with multiple alerts as civilians in need of assistance were highlighted in his view.
"Alright, let's get to work," He muttered to himself, flying towards a collapsed building where his sensors indicated several people were trapped. With a quick scan, Tony found the weak spots in the debris, then used his repulsors to carefully eliminate sections of the wreckage, creating an opening large enough for him to pull out a family huddled underneath.
"Hey, you're safe now," Tony said, trying to keep his voice steady as he helped them out of the rubble, guiding them away from the danger zone. "Move quickly, follow the path behind me. Rescue teams will be here soon." I hope…
The family nodded, their faces pale with shock, but they moved as instructed. Tony barely spared them another glance as he turned back to the wreckage. There were dozens more like them, scattered across the city, and he didn't have time to waste.
"Friday, how are the suits back home holding up?" Tony asked, his mind still partly focused on the chaos unfolding in the U.S.
"Not perfect, boss," Friday replied, her voice strained with the effort of keeping everything under control. "The suits are managing, but the Iron Legion is causing serious damage. We're doing what we can, but we're stretched thin."
Tony clenched his fists, his frustration rising again. "I can't be in two places at once," He muttered. "Just… Do what you can. North America will have to hold until I get back."
He turned his attention back to Taiwan, forcing himself to block out the noise of everything happening elsewhere. There were people here who needed him, and he couldn't afford to lose focus.
As Tony jetted off to the next location, surveying the burning city below, he couldn't help but feel the weight of the world pressing down on him.
"Sorry, Hammer," Tony whispered under his breath, glancing at the destruction before him. "I can only deal with what's in front of me."
His people would have to handle things alone.
Minutes later, he was breaking his own word of only dealing with what was in front of him, as he desperately threw himself back towards the states, pushing his armor beyond safe limits.
Pepper!
New York Blacksite.
Xu Wenwu strode confidently through the massive hole his men had blown in the concrete walls of the 'hidden' blacksite. His posture was calm, his expression indifferent, as flames licked the edges of the shattered structure. The thick smoke hung in the air like a shroud, but it didn't bother him - he had walked through much worse. Behind him, his elite fighters moved in perfect formation, awaiting his silent commands.
Wenwu raised a hand, signaling them to halt. This was his path to walk alone now. He didn't need their help. His men were nothing more than an afterthought to him at this moment. His real weapon was already with him - the Ten Rings, and his superior mind and body.
He had been putting pieces into place long before he even knew he needed to be wary of Justin Hammer, saving the information for a rainy day, and now it would all bear fruit.
The defenders of the facility had preemptively cut the power to the elevators that descended into the lower levels. But that was a mere inconvenience to a man like Wenwu. With a subtle motion of his wrist, the Ten Rings around his arms lit up with a faint glow, pulsing with ancient energy. The ground trembled slightly as one of the rings shot forward, slamming into the elevator doors with a thunderous boom. The doors caved in, the metal folding like paper.
The ring buzzed as it spun around, before cutting through the entirety of the elevator in a rapid spin that was almost impossible to catch with the naked eye, the pieces of molten and cut metal falling down, after which the elevator shaft was left exposed.
Without hesitation, Wenwu stepped forward, casually walking into the now - destroyed shaft. He didn't fall - his rings, connected to his very will, hovered around him, gently slowing his descent as he floated downward. As he neared the bottom, he saw the defenders waiting for him, guns trained on the opening. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. They thought they could stop him.
He had to admit, there was some satisfaction in letting loose once again, things had grown… Stale.
His feet touched the floor with barely a sound, and as the defenders filled the air with plasma, his arm shot out, the rings spinning in a blur of motion. The first burst of fire was deflected effortlessly, the deadly plasma beams bouncing off the glowing rings as they moved faster than the eye could track, putting down half the defenders as their attacks rebounded. The defenders barely had time to react further, before Wenwu moved.
In an instant, he was upon them, idly noting that the 'killed' men were regenerating their wounds, and getting back onto their feet slowly.
To him, they might as well have been moving in slow motion.
He dashed forward with speed that might as well have been instantaneous as far as his enemies were able to parse it. His first opponent, a soldier armed with a tri-beam HammerTech rifle, didn't even have time to pull the trigger again before Wenwu was in front of him. With a contemptuous flick of his wrists, two of the rings struck the soldier's two comrades at his side, shattering their skulls into pieces, viscera raining onto the soldier.
Said soldier only had time for his eyes to widen in horror, before Wenwu drove a palm into his chest, sending him flying back into the concrete wall with bone-crushing force, his entire torso caved in.
He did not regenerate, Wenwu smirking minisculely as his rings glowed, his ring of absorption working wonders on Extremis it seemed. He might have to slow down on using that one then, or this would be all too boring…
Another defender rushed him from the side, firing rapidly, but Wenwu hardly needed to look. His movements were fluid, effortless, as he dodged the incoming fire. He pivoted, his body twisting gracefully, and his fist shot out like a viper's strike. His knuckles connected with the man's jaw in a brutal strike, a ring sliding forward with the motion, shrinking down as it went down his throat.
The shouts of horror from the other defenders as the man with the rapidly healing broken jaw turned around and fired at his comrades warmed a small kernel of Wenwu's cold heart.
Three more defenders opened fire, their weapons roaring as they filled the corridor with impossible to dodge beams of death. Wenwu didn't flinch. He extended his arms, and the rings responded instantly. They spun outward, creating a whirling barrier of energy that seemed to suck in the plasma. With a dismissive gesture, Wenwu sent two of the rings hurtling forward the fire that had been swallowed, returned at point blank range.
Extremis would not avail those soldiers, as their state could best be described as jellified. With a thought, the ring inside mister glass jaw, returned to him, sliding onto his arm, the man wetly flopping to the ground, cut in half by the rings return, Wenwu crushed his skull with his foot as he slowly walked by, a small contemptuous smile on his face, as he stared down the defenders.
Hammer had good men, he acknowledged begrudgingly. They still did not run. He mentally applauded their bravery and loyalty even as he derided their weakness and poor choices. Even as his heart beat faster, the blood covering his arms brought back memories of simpler times. Back when slaughter was the way to deal with any enemy, and pillaging and raping was not only appropriate, but expected. Simple times, perhaps - but he did miss it in some moments.
The few remaining defenders regrouped, one throwing a grenade in a desperate attempt to stop him. Wenwu's eyes barely flicked toward the explosive. With a mere thought, the rings responded, spinning in a circle before him, covering the width of the corridor, before a gout of flame shot towards the men, the grenade only adding to the inferno as it exploded as the fire reached it. The explosion lit up the corridor in a flash of fire and smoke, but Wenwu walked through it as if it were nothing, his silhouette framed by the destruction.
The Ten Rings were more than mere baubles of immortality, their existence and functions lost through time as Wenwu headed out to slaughter less and less with age.
They were so much more than even his own men believed…
He walked out into the next corridor, smoke wafting off his form, even as a soldier screamed in utter agony at his feet, regenerating even as he continued to burn to death, fat dripping off him, bone cooking, skin blackening, even as it regenerated again, Wenwu's flames not the kind that extinguished until he willed it.
Idly he wondered how long the man could burn, if he was still alive when he returned, he'd have to bring him home. An eternally burning man would make a nice centerpiece for his throne room. It would keep his men honest…
A pair of obviously enhanced soldiers stepped forward next, their eyes glowing with the unstable energy coursing through their veins as they pushed their Extremis to its limits. They rushed him with inhuman speed, but Wenwu was faster. His centuries of martial arts mastery showed as he dropped low, dodging their first strikes, and in one fluid motion, he swept the legs out from under one of them. The soldier hit the ground hard, but Wenwu was already on him, delivering a lightning-fast series of strikes to his chest and throat. Each blow was precise, methodical, and brutal.
He didn't even bother using his rings as he ripped part of the man's spine out of his skull and neck and used it to stab the other soldier through the eye, watching uncaringly as the man fell, his regeneration not able to help him with something lodged into his brain as such.
The rest of the defenders hesitated now, fear creeping into their eyes. They had no doubt been briefed about the Mandarin, but witnessing his power firsthand was another matter entirely from guesswork and rumors. Wenwu could sense their fear, and he relished it. He stepped forward again, his gaze cold and unyielding.
Another group of soldiers opened fire, this time with regular ordinance as their energy weapons had failed them, but Wenwu moved like water, his arms glowing, flowing between their bullets with ease. He weaved through the chaos, his body a blur of motion, and with each step, he closed the distance between him and his attackers.
The first soldier he reached raised his weapon, but Wenwu caught the barrel with his hand, twisting it upward as the gun discharged harmlessly into the ceiling. With a swift, brutal motion, he drove his elbow into the soldier's throat, sending him reeling back in pain. Before the soldier could recover, Wenwu lashed out with a spinning kick, the force of it sending the man crashing into the wall, all ten of his rings briefly leaving his arms to absolutely crush the man into paste, before sliding back on, all within a few blinks of the eye.
Another soldier tried to flank him, but Wenwu's reflexes were too sharp. He dodged the incoming strike, grabbing the man's arm and pulling him off balance. In one fluid motion, Wenwu twisted the soldier's arm behind his back and delivered a devastating knee strike to his spine. The soldier collapsed to the ground, incapacitated for a moment.
Long enough for Wenwu to snap his neck, and throw him at the few remaining soldiers who hadn't advanced, and was still trying to nail him down with bullets, one of his rings easily pinballing back and forth and deflecting the fire while he was busy 'playing' with the supersoldiers.
Wenwu turned just in time to catch a punch from one of the larger defenders, his hand gripping the man's fist effortlessly. For a moment, the soldier struggled, trying to break free, but Wenwu's strength was overwhelming. With a casual flick of his wrist, Wenwu speared the man through with nine rings, the man flying backward, crashing into the floor with a thunderous impact as his organs flowed out of his body.
The flooring was becoming difficult for the men facing him, slick with blood and viscera as it was, Wenwu calmly walking over it without a shred of difficulty. He didn't even pay attention as his rings destroyed another automated turret, having not bothered to worry about the mechanical issues for the entirety of his Sunday stroll.
As more soldiers rushed in, Wenwu decided to end this quickly - he was growing bored with this. The Ten Rings hovered around him, glowing with an eerie light. He raised his hand, and the rings glowed brightly, before dozens of beams shot forward in unison, striking down the remaining soldiers with devastating precision. Each ring moved with deadly accuracy, melting the men that faced him until there was not enough left to regenerate.
In mere moments, the corridor was silent again, littered with the few remains that survived. Wenwu stood in the center of the devastation, his posture calm, his expression unchanged. He hadn't even broken a sweat. The rings returned to him, floating lazily around his arms as if waiting for his next command.
Wenwu glanced around, surveying the destruction with cold detachment. These men had been nothing more than obstacles in his path. He had dealt with them as one might brush away an insect - effortlessly, and with little thought.
It was good to see he hadn't lost his touch entirely, he thought, although he was slightly displeased with how slow he'd been, he truly was getting old.
He continued down the corridor, his steps echoing off the walls as he approached the final set of doors. More defenders lay in wait, but they didn't matter. Wenwu had faced far greater challenges in his lifetime. He would walk through them just as easily as he had the others.
As he neared the entrance to the labs, the final group of soldiers tried to mount a last-ditch defense. They were clearly more elite, their movements precise and coordinated. But it made no difference to Wenwu. They moved in, striking with military efficiency, but Wenwu's martial arts mastery was unparalleled.
The first soldier came at him with a series of rapid strikes, but Wenwu blocked each one with ease, his arms moving with the grace of a dancer. He countered with a sharp palm strike to the man's chest, knocking the wind out of him before following up with a roundhouse kick that sent him crashing into the wall.
Two more soldiers tried to flank him, but Wenwu moved faster than they could react. He grabbed one by the wrist, twisting his arm behind his back, while simultaneously delivering a backhanded punch to the second soldier's jaw. The second soldier stumbled back, dazed, and Wenwu finished him with a swift kick to the side of the head.
Each strike of his, ending with the rings flowing forward alongside the strike striking them ten times as hard as they flowed down his legs and arms, absorbing their regeneration as he toggled that particular rings effect, ending them immediately with the power of the strike.
Wenwu stood again amidst the fallen defenders, his expression unchanged. He didn't even bother to look back as he approached the door to the labs. The path was clear. His rings floated silently around him, still glowing faintly with power.
Wenwu had known for some time the facility was here - his people following one of its scientists over a year ago. But he had held off, knowing Hammer would be able to defend the facility with ease if he struck.
He'd waited, patiently. Until the time to strike arrived.
He'd seen the chaos out in the world that he created - seen how it grew even greater then he'd anticipated, seen how Hammer did not react - and he'd realized this was the perfect time.
He would have preferred to go after one of his more known women, but they'd all disappeared with him.
Wenwu would make do.
Especially with what one of his men had reported recently… Tasked with a simple job at a nearby pharmacy, keeping an eye on the comings and goings of the people who entered and left the facility.
He made a gesture, and soon had a kneeling Shinobi at his feet, "Settle the cattle." He ordered.
Even with his orders to stay back, his personal guard had disobeyed, the only ones he allowed that honor.
They might as well make themselves useful.
…
Ten minutes later,
Wenwu stood tall and commanding, his dark silhouette illuminated by the flickering, red lights of the underground lab. The corridor behind him was littered with the remnants of his assault, the smell of death and blood cloying in the underground facility. Before him, kneeling in a line, were the three scientists that mattered enough to Hammer to personally recruit - Doctor Helen Cho, Doctor Maya Hansen, and Doctor Curt Connors. His elite soldiers stood silently behind them, weapons trained on the rest of the staff held hostage against the walls.
Wenwu clasped his hands behind his back, his expression cold but composed as he looked down at the scientists. They knelt on the floor, their hands bound behind them, heads bowed except for one. Helen Cho glared up at him, her dark eyes filled with defiance, while Connors and Hansen avoided his gaze, the weight of fear pressing on them. Connors trembled slightly, and Maya's posture was tense, her lips pressed into a thin line. They knew they were at his mercy.
"You show great loyalty," Wenwu began, his voice smooth and commanding, echoing through the formerly sterile space. "It is to be commended."
He paced slowly before them, his eyes scanning each face as if assessing their worth. There was no rush in his movements, only the methodical calm of a man in complete control. Helen's defiance caught his attention, and his gaze lingered on her. He admired her fire, but he knew that would not last long.
Breaking people was somewhat of a hobby of his after all.
Even now the Green Goblin, Norman Osborn, his broken toy - was doing his bidding, gathering up another hostage.
"Yet," He continued, his voice lowering with a dangerous edge, "It is loyalty to a failed leader. One who has left you to die. Who cares not for your safety."
Wenwu stopped directly in front of Helen, towering over her. He cocked his head slightly, his eyes narrowing in cold calculation. "Or…" He said, his voice carrying an almost amused tone, "Does he?"
Helen Cho glared up at him, her chin jutting out defiantly. "Justin will save us," She spat, her voice full of conviction. "He is a god now. He hears our prayers, and he will crush you for your blasphemy!"
Wenwu's lips curled into a faint smile at her words, he recognized a fanatic when he saw one, this one would be fun to break. The room grew colder, the tension thickening as the other two scientists shifted nervously. Maya nudged Helen with her elbow, trying to get her to stop talking, but Helen ignored her, fueled by her unwavering belief in Justin Hammer's power.
"A god?" Wenwu repeated, a low, humorless chuckle escaping his lips. "Then where is your god, woman?" His voice dripped with derision, but his amusement was short-lived. His eyes gleamed with a dangerous intensity as he stepped closer, his shadow falling over her like a dark cloud.
Helen lifted her chin even higher, her voice defiant as ever. "He is busy with something far more important than you." She said with a sharpness in her tone. "But he will come. You can't win. All you've done is earned my god's wrath. He will destroy you and everything you love." There was a hint of relish in her voice as she spoke, as if the idea of Hammer's vengeance brought her some twisted satisfaction.
Wenwu's smile faded into something colder, more predatory. He knelt in front of Helen, his face inches from hers, and she flinched ever so slightly as his gaze bore into her. He wondered what she saw in his eyes, if she saw her own broken body, her despair.
"I am counting on him taking issue with what I do today," He said quietly, almost conversationally. His voice was soft but held an undercurrent of menace, the calm before a storm, the promise of more to come.
Without warning, Wenwu reached out and placed a finger under Helen's chin, tilting her head up toward him. His touch was surprisingly gentle, but the gesture carried a weight of dominance that made her tremble slightly despite her earlier bravado. She glared at him, her eyes flickering with defiance, but there was fear there now, just beneath the surface.
Wenwu knew fear. Had studied it intently, had wielded it as a weapon so long he was fear itself - could taste as the woman's breath hitched, as she finally realized what he was here for.
Wenwu studied her, his expression unreadable. "I wonder," He mused, his voice barely above a whisper, "Will he be enraged if I take you? If I make use of you?" His thumb traced lightly across her lips, his touch sending a shiver of revulsion down her spine. "If I break you?"
Helen's resolve wavered for a moment, but she held onto her faith, refusing to show her fear even if it was obvious to Wenwu, who delighted in it.
"He won't care," Maya Hansen interjected, her voice tense and urgent. She glared at Wenwu, trying to draw his attention away from Helen. "We're just scientists. He has a dozen more to replace us." She argued.
Wenwu's cold smile returned, but it was more chilling than before. "No," He said softly, turning his gaze to Maya, "I don't think so."
He stood slowly, his eyes returning and never leaving Helen, as she trembled slightly under his gaze. He loomed over her, his presence suffocating, as if the weight of his power pressed down on her like an invisible force.
"I think," He said, his voice a low, dangerous murmur, "I only need one of you as bait." His smile grew as he ran a nail down Helen's cheek, drawing blood, "Or should I count you as two?"
Wenwu made a brief gesture toward his soldiers. Without hesitation, they opened fire, Hansen barely had time to curse his name, as blood splattered the walls, Wenwu standing still, uncaring of the flecks that dirtied his clothes, watching tears fall from Helen's eyes instead, even as viscera covered her from the scientists at her sides, lumps of meat falling to the floor with wet thuds.
Helen sobbed, her eyes wide as she watched the others fall. She cried out in a mix of shock and fury, her voice breaking as she struggled against her bonds. "No!" She watched Hansen and Connors, watched the light leave their eyes, and Wenwu let out a heady breath, eyes half lidded, filled with pleasure at the absolute agony in her scream as she threw her body over the mess that used to be people.
Wenwu's smile grew as he continued to watch Helen's reaction, relishing the despair that crossed her face. The lab was silent now, save for the hum of the rings around his arms and Helen's ragged breathing and mumbled pleadings.
"You see," Wenwu said, his voice almost tender as he stepped back from her, "There is no one coming to save you. Your god is absent, too busy with his own chaos to care about you. You are nothing to him." He tilted his head, "Except… You have something of his, don't you?"
Helen's lips trembled, her resolve shaken, but she didn't break. Not yet. She glared up at him, her eyes burning with defiance even as tears welled up. "He will come," She whispered, more to herself than to him. "He will."
One of his men came up to Wenwu, whispering, Helen just barely picking up on it, "We have Stark's wife." Wenwu only smiled briefly, nodding to the man.
Wenwu turned away from her, his back straight and his steps measured as he walked toward the door. He paused just before exiting, glancing over his shoulder with one final, chilling smile. "We shall see."
And with that, he left, the echoes of his footsteps fading as he disappeared into the shadows, leaving the bodies of the scientists and a shaken Helen Cho in his wake, his men picking her up like a sack of rice.
The trap was set. All that remained was for the so-called 'god' to take the bait.
Even an evil man like Hammer should care about his potential offspring, no?
Author's Note:
So, I imagine if I got reviews complaining about Justin always losing before, they'll build a salt mountain this time.
Here's the thing, mates, the enemy also sometimes make good plans. They're not all incompetent.
Justin is probably going to be slightly… Peeved with things.
But hey, at least Helen is alive, for now.
Also, I'm only supposed to write 10k chapters dammit! Why do they keep becoming 14k!
Cheers
JollyHippopotamus
- Location
- The Internet?
'Why are all of these opportunists Justin cozied up to and then betrayed, opposed, or otherwise offended taking advantage of this opportunity to attack him?' /s Bruh, reading comprehension is hard, okay?
Did you even think about it from the point of view of the people that just want a straight stomp fic? Where anyone who puts up even the slightest bit of an obstacle to the MC is clearly a sign of the writer nerfing Justin for wangst, and not, y'know, writing rational/irrational actors basing decisions off of the incomplete information their characters would have access to at the time?
Good story, and a good update, thank you for sharing it with us!
TeamAmerica Talokan: World Police
Also Tony: Decides to fly into an active war zone, as Iron Man.
Tony: "LOL, what the heck, people don't like me?"
Doctor, Ancient One?
Did you even think about it from the point of view of the people that just want a straight stomp fic? Where anyone who puts up even the slightest bit of an obstacle to the MC is clearly a sign of the writer nerfing Justin for wangst, and not, y'know, writing rational/irrational actors basing decisions off of the incomplete information their characters would have access to at the time?
Good story, and a good update, thank you for sharing it with us!
LOL, LMAO, even.
Hammer had... tread? Also, Forge came up with all kinds of shackles and redundancies, I'd thought. And I will not hear his good, mind-controlled name slandered in this fashion.
Skynet, since it's a name and all. And he's not wrong.
Watch out, she's Wolverine-ing! And Hansen's being looked to for divine intervention now, which also makes me laugh.
Maya, at the rate you're accumulating prayers, you'll be a god in no time!
And if only one single Taiwanese person is left alive at the end of this, so long as they're free, Namor will happily let them pin a medal on his chest.
Team
"Geneva Convention? The sub-mariner cares not for your pitiful cosplay hobbies! Imperious Rex!"
"I don't even see race. Some of my best friends are human. Steve gets it! Steve? Best buddy? Where are you going?"
Our sweet baby, let no one hurt him!
Just remember that when you team up with Hammer to fight the evil AI menace.
Serene Selene slouches simply in this scene.
Sunil, our sweet boi, won't someone save him?
Thanks, the Ancient One! Look at her, being all, 'don't make me come over there!' And then, she didn't.
Helen will fight you, dude.
Trashed his own House Party Protocols because nobody came? I keep forgetting there's been a time skip of about a year, so Tony would have had time to Tinker up some more suits.
Tony: Sees Legions of Iron Men attacking everyone, everywhere.
Also Tony: Decides to fly into an active war zone, as Iron Man.
Tony: "LOL, what the heck, people don't like me?"
Wenwu, stop defending rape culture. "He's a product of his time," they say. "You need to account for the historical context," they say. You're living in modern times now, bro!
Freezeframe record scratch: Just when Yul Log, mercenary for hire, thought his life couldn't get any worse... coming this Christmas to the Hallmark Channel: 10 Golden Rings for the Holidays.
In fact it was a little bit frightening, but they fought with expert timing.
It was a toss up between this or something from the Predator franchise.
Oh, goodness. Wenwu's going to look back on this moment and we'll laugh and laugh. Well, we will, he might be too busy screaming. But hey Justin gets some rings to give to his special 'not a harem' people! So that's nice. Hopefully he can help out Hansen and Conners. They're not 'fixed points,' are they,
- Location
- Germany
*sign*
So many "Big Players" are all moving one Hammer right now, because he is distracked and not ONE of them even tries to find out what it is that keeps the guy that killed Apocalyse busy.
Well those who seed the wind, what might they harvest this season? I suspect it will be of biblical propotions.
Selene got a whif of Hela, didn't she?
That shows us the pecking order. Hammer would love to know that.
So many "Big Players" are all moving one Hammer right now, because he is distracked and not ONE of them even tries to find out what it is that keeps the guy that killed Apocalyse busy.
Well those who seed the wind, what might they harvest this season? I suspect it will be of biblical propotions.
Selene got a whif of Hela, didn't she?
That shows us the pecking order. Hammer would love to know that.
- Location
- The Internet?
Re-read that passage.
Orange sparks suggests mystic portals a la Doctor Strange. Or, at this point in time, the Ancient One, wielder of the Time Stone. Ya know, the person charged with protecting Earth from Extra-planar, or in this case, other magical threats?
Is there something I'm missing? Did Wenwu do anything to suppress their extremis regeneration? Because I believe all of Justin's most trusted people were injected the best and latest formula of extremis.
Congrats. Your death will be especially painful...