Replaced it with a more current one, although it's a very new server so very bare bones right now.
HammerTime (MCU OC/SI into Justin Hammer)
- Thread starter JollyHippo
- Start date
Replaced it with a more current one, although it's a very new server so very bare bones right now.
Oh ok, thank you. Checking it out now.
Chapter 43: Endgame begins.
Here's chapter 43: Endgame begins.
Back to a regular schedule, the overlords of Patron deciding on this story again.
For those interested, also started a new commissioned story called ScourgeBane in the WoW setting.
Let's see what Justin and co is up to now, that the immediate threat is dealt with - and yes, I promise the empire building and slice of life is coming.
Once the Mandarin is dead.
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc.
Hope you enjoy.
Naval Base, China.
The makeshift holding room in the Chinese naval base they'd been ensconced in, was bathed in the cold blue glow of a wall-mounted screen. On said screen, a Hammer Industries spokesperson delivered a polished speech like she wasn't full of baloney and only dumping more of it for every honeyed word. Steve Rogers sat on a hard metal chair, his posture stiff, arms crossed as he watched in silence. His eyes betrayed nothing, but a faint tension in his jaw spoke volumes on its own.
They'd had to fight with the Chinese for just this much consideration, a bit of news on what had happened. For some reason they were being very inconsiderate about giving them anything live. It made Steve worried about what they were missing…
Steve had a feeling they wouldn't be welcome for much longer. Which didn't really leave all that many places to go anymore.
Namor, standing to Steve's right, loomed like a thundercloud about to burst. His dark eyes burned with disdain as the spokesperson's voice droned on, Namor, even more than Steve, seeming to have a point to prove. Something which had been delayed by the reversal of the Iron Legion attack.
"...And thanks to the unparalleled efforts of Hammer Industries, the last gasp alien Skrull insurgency has been entirely neutralized. Humanity can rest assured that our vigilance remains steadfast, and our technology unmatched in the defense of our civilization…"
Namor growled low in his throat, his lip curling. "More lies," He muttered, his voice hateful. His gaze flicked to the few Chinese soldiers loitering near the edges of the room, pretending to be busy while clearly eavesdropping and keeping an eye on them. "They will lap it up like the weak, pitiful creatures they are."
Steve didn't react to Namor's words, his eyes fixed on the screen. His silence was heavy, contemplative, though tension radiated from him where he sat. Finally, he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he scrubbed a hand over his face. "Aliens again," He muttered. "How many times is Hammer going to use that excuse?"
Everytime Hammer was responsible for war crimes, it seemed aliens were the answer, and Steve couldn't understand how no one was questioning that.
Namor turned to him sharply, his voice edged with barely contained anger. "And yet they believe it. Every time. Hammer has wrapped them in his lies, and now they grovel at his feet."
Namor had only grown more agitated as they cooled their heels in this base, the Chinese obviously keeping an eye on them and feeding them shit. Steve wasn't sure Namor would hold back much longer, and he wasn't sure he wanted to see the end result anymore either.
Steve eventually sighed, dropping his hands from his face as he turned toward Namor. "The Skrulls are real," He said quietly. "We've seen that much. But this?" He waved at the screen, where the footage shifted to rows of alien tech and giant robots being shown off by Hammer Industries, from the moon of all things. Or so they said. "Blaming every problem on aliens… How do we know they were even to blame? And just didn't run afoul of Hammer's ambitions?"
He wasn't sure anymore what was right or wrong. But it just couldn't be true that aliens kept attacking Earth, that was just not possible. It had to be Hammer. It was the only thing that made any sense.
Namor crossed his arms, his biceps flexing under the dark green scales of his armor. "Control of the narrative is power, Rogers. Something Hammer has mastered. Something the world now bows to." He glanced at the soldiers again, his disdain palpable. "They would have us believe that we can do nothing. That we are powerless."
His fist clenched as he raised it, face stormy, "Distant threats are paraded in front of us to make us believe we need him. It is all a charade!"
Steve looked down, his expression tightening. "I don't know what else we can do now, Namor. This... If there's even a chance that it's true… It's bigger than us."
He didn't believe it could be true, but if there was even a chance…
He wasn't so conceited that he'd think he was all that was needed for a concerted alien invasion.
If it was true.
Namor's hands twitched angrily. He stepped forward suddenly, grasping the front of Steve's uniform and yanking him to his feet. His voice a low snarl. "We cannot stop now, Captain! The world must see our strength!"
Steve met Namor's glare, unflinching. His own voice was quiet but firm. "Let go, Namor."
He wouldn't be bullied into a choice.
Not now.
Not ever.
Namor hesitated, his fingers tightening on Steve's uniform before he released him with a frustrated huff. "You disappoint me, Rogers," He muttered, turning away to pace like a caged lion. "At the moment of truth, you falter."
Steve sank back into his chair, running a hand through his hair. He didn't argue. He didn't have the strength to. Doubts swirled in his mind, doubts he didn't know how to answer. What was left for them to fight for? What could they even accomplish?
Was he even in the right?
The world didn't seem to think so…
He needed to speak to Clint and Natasha… Where the heck were they anyway?
It was only when he looked down at his burner phone, thinking of calling them, that he remembered he could get news on the Internet nowadays.
Time to see what he was missing.
…
An hour later,
Over fifty miles away, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff sat in a beat-up truck driving along a quiet dirt road. The truck's engine made clanking noises now and then, its battered frame rattling faintly as it vibrated. Outside, the landscape stretched endlessly, a never-ending expanse of fields and farms.
Clint leaned back in the driver's seat, one hand resting on the wheel as he stared blankly ahead. His bow lay across his lap, though it felt more like a joke than a weapon now. "So," He said finally, his voice heavy, "New identities?"
Laura was going to kill him for all of this, if she was even willing to hear him out after this long. He'd backed the wrong horse. Fury and Coulson had been wrong. Or worse…
God, there was always a worse? Wasn't it?
For once he'd like to be in a situation where it was revealed that actually, everything was totally okay, just go home and have pizza, chill, everything was already dealt with, not his problem.
Natasha sat in the passenger seat, her arms crossed over her chest, her gaze fixed out the side window. "It won't last," She said flatly. "Hammer will find us. He's already going to be dismantling governments across the globe. The people are turning against their leaders. The last reveal about HYDRA…" She trailed off, her expression hardening. "The public won't stand for it. The governments will try to fight, but they'll lose."
With all the knockout punches the world's governments had taken to the chin lately - they couldn't beat the count this time, she believed. The HYDRA reveal was too big. Too damaging.
There was no way to realistically defend having Nazis as a vital part of your government and bureaucracy for decades. And governments across the entire world shared this particular defect, and it was now very public.
Clint let out a bitter laugh. "Think Steve's seen it yet?" He asked, glancing at her. "Think he saw the light finally?"
How they'd all been completely fucked from day one, dancing to Fury's tune like little mice - with no higher concern then where their next hit of cheese was coming from.
No, Clint wasn't bitter. Not at all.
Natasha didn't answer immediately. Instead, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the burner phone she'd been using. She held it up, the screen displaying over thirty missed calls from Steve's burner. Wordlessly, she rolled down the window and tossed the phone out after disassembling it with practiced motions. It hit the ground with a faint clatter, quickly forgotten in the dust.
It was too late for Steve, they couldn't wait for him to turn things around, or for him to cut a sweetheart deal to be brought back into the fold - them following along in its wake.
It was too late now.
They were left with only one option.
Clint stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. "Your sister better still love you," He muttered, his voice tinged with a weary humor.
It was their best shot at getting something of a life back.
Natasha's expression softened slightly, a flicker of vulnerability crossing her face. "Let me handle Yelena," She said quietly.
Clint didn't press further. He leaned back in his seat, his gaze drifting to the horizon. The weight of everything they'd lost hung between them, unspoken but undeniable.
Heroes… That was what they'd attempted to become…
They should have known better.
People like them didn't get storybook endings.
…
Back in the naval base, Steve Rogers sat on a hard bench in the corner of the barracks, his head bowed and his hands clasped tightly between his knees. He had slipped away from Namor and the soldiers watching them, seeking solitude. But solitude brought no comfort at all.
Not anymore.
The screen of his phone was cracked, but it still displayed the last bit of news he'd searched up on, "HYDRA infestation of SHIELD since its creation, confirmed. Full story at…"
The words stared back at him like a taunt, refusing to let him look away. Refusing to allow him any peace from the revelation of who exactly he'd been working for.
HYDRA. SHIELD. Fury.
The organization he had given so much of himself to, the one he had believed in. A lie. Fury's reassurances, his calls for trust and loyalty - it had all been a facade. And Steve? He had been their willing pawn, fighting their battles, carrying their flag. He felt sick. Betrayed. And worst of all, lost.
He'd been carrying on the Red Skulls legacy!
His mind churned with questions he wasn't even sure if he wanted an answer to. Clint and Natasha had left without a word. Were they HYDRA too? Had they known all along? And Bucky - his oldest friend, now standing alongside Hammer Industries. Was Bucky complicit in this too?
Or was Hammer the only one actually standing against a resurgence of the Nazi's and the Red Skulls legacy? Was that why Bucky was with them?
Was that why Bucky never contacted him? Despite all the various messages Steve had sent him? Because Bucky couldn't trust Steve… Because Steve was working for HYDRA!
Steve squeezed his eyes shut, his hands clenching into fists. He had faced the worst of the worst, monsters, and wars, death and blood. He had survived even the ice. But this? This was different. This was the kind of betrayal that cut to the bone, the kind that left scars deeper than any physical wound, that scarred the soul.
Everything he stood for.
Everything he was.
He'd been fighting against it, not realizing who was pulling his strings.
He almost lost his lunch, feeling a sense of vertigo, he'd been nothing but a dancing monkey, just like the early days… Except this times the strings had fully enveloped him to the point he hadn't noticed they were there…
The sound of distant footsteps pulled him from his thoughts. He opened his eyes, staring blankly at the floor as the soldiers walked past, their voices a faint murmur. They didn't matter. Nothing felt like it mattered anymore.
For the first time, Captain America
… No… Steve Rogers… For the first time in a long long while, he didn't know what to do.
He only knew what he had been doing…
Had been all the wrong things.
Skrull Base, the Moon.
Justin stepped through the swirling orange portal, his boots clicking sharply against the metallic floor. He didn't break stride as the portal snapped shut behind him, leaving only the faintest trace of its magic hanging in the air.
Nebula, still trussed up, was dragged unceremoniously behind him. The reinforced bindings bit into her cybernetic limbs, forcing her into a helpless sprawl on the ground. She squirmed against the restraints, her muffled protests doing nothing to alter her fate as she was hauled along.
Of course, he had something much more annoying to deal with at the moment…
Even more annoying then the situation on Earth, or the remaining Skrulls.
"Hela, stop it," Justin muttered with obvious irritation, holding back the urge to strike her.
She'd been insufferable ever since… The incident.
Hela hung off his arm like a gleeful child, a satisfied smirk curling her lips. Her hair was loose and wild, framing her face, in contrast to the disciplined warrior look she usually exuded, she looked looser, more relaxed. Even then, her armor was left gleaming with fresh Skrull blood. The metallic scent clung to her as strongly as her bold, unhinged energy did.
Because even relaxed and sated, she was still crazy.
"~My, what a brute? Use them and leave them - is that your way, Justin?" She teased, her tone dripping with mockery and a faint edge of menace. Her grip tightened around his arm, more playful than possessive, but no less annoying.
She'd been going back and forth for a while now. Between sweet and possessive, and murderous and mocking. All while not letting him go, unless she had someone to cut apart.
Luckily, although about ninety percent of all Skrulls on the Moon had been liquidated by Calamity, there had been four moon bases in total, and Calamity hadn't gotten them all cleared yet when Justin invaded.
Justin glanced at her, his gaze flat and unimpressed. "Yes. You and me. Not compatible."
The words were simple, almost clinical, but they did nothing to dissuade Hela, who sighed theatrically, rolling her eyes. "Not compatible? Really?" She asked, feigning offense. "I felt we were compatible. Very, very compatible… Seven times, if I recall correctly?" Her voice dropped to a sultry purr, and her smirk deepened when Nebula began thrashing harder as she was dragged behind them, her muffled screams growing louder. Hela, with deliberate carelessness, let Nebula's head smack against the edge of a protruding console as they walked by.
That had only happened a few dozen times now. Justin would care… But it was one of Thanos' daughters, so he didn't.
Perhaps she could be turned. But he had neither the patience or the will for it. He had people for that kind of thing. Worst case, she'd be recycled - she was pretty used to it anyway, wasn't she?
Justin stopped walking as Hela tightened her hold, a happy smirk on her face as she nuzzled into his shoulder. He sighed heavily, and gave Hela a sharp look. "If you don't let go of my arm, I will break it." He promised.
The words were spoken calmly, almost softly, but the underlying threat was clear. His aura flared subtly, a ripple of energy emanating from the Power Stone embedded in his chest. The intensity of his presence grew, filling the corridor with a suffocating weight.
Hela visibly shivered, her dark eyes gleaming with a twisted delight. "Promises, promises," She murmured, finally letting go of his arm with a dramatic pout. "Fine, I'll behave. For now." She stretched her arms lazily, her movements predatory and deliberate. "We do have some rats to deal with, after all. I suppose I can save being broken apart for fun for another time."
Justin rubbed the bridge of his nose, muttering, "You're insufferable." And she was a total masochist too, what a surprise, really. He'd broken the woman's damn pelvis during their liaison - and the damn woman had just gotten more excited.
Ahead, a group of Skrull soldiers emerged from an adjoining hallway, their green skin pale and slick with sweat. Their rifles trembled in their hands, their fingers tightening on the triggers as they faced the intimidating duo. Hela's lips curled into a crazed smile as she summoned her necroblades, the black energy crackling hungrily in her palms.
"Ah, murder, torture and sex," Hela breathed, stepping forward languidly as if she had all the time in the world. "This has been a fantastic day."
Justin hung back, watching her with a resigned and weary expression, her company had been a bit much, so far. "And she wonders why I want nothing to do with a relationship with her," He muttered to Nebula. "People aren't supposed to enjoy being broken apart piece by pie - " He sighed, "Oh, look who I'm talking to…"
Nebula growled lowly through her gag, her glare sharp enough to cut steel.
Justin tilted his head thoughtfully. "You don't, do you? I mean, I know you're kind of a hodgepodge at this point, but you don't actually enjoy being broken apart, right?"
The only response he got was an even deeper glare and more furious squirming. He nodded to himself, apparently satisfied. "Good. Wouldn't want you having too much fun when we interrogate you properly later." His tone was almost chipper, before he glanced back at Hela and growled. "Hela! I told you not to kill the females! They can make more test subjects given time!"
Hela, currently pinning two female Skrulls against the wall with her necroblades, turned to him with an innocent smile that didn't reach her eyes. "They're not dead!" She said brightly, radiating smugness.
Justin gestured at the two Skrulls, their green bodies impaled, blood pooling on the floor. "They're impaled through their wombs," He said flatly. "That's the only reason to keep them. They're practically useless now."
Hela giggled, pulling her blades free with a wet squelch. "Ah, but if you need a womb, Justin…" She licked the blood off one of her blades, her smile twisting into something feral, leaving the rest unsaid.
And giving him nightmares.
His libido was going to be the cause of so much regret…
"I regret everything," Justin muttered, shaking his head as Hela resumed her bloodbath with gleeful abandon. He supposed they had enough Skrull test subjects captive that they didn't need the rest anyway. He'd stop her when there were only a few left.
Nebula glared at him with unbridled fury as he picked her up and patted her on the cheek, her thrashing renewed as if she might somehow break free and throttle him, as she watched him take over base by base that had been set up with Thanos' resources, every one of his actions just sealing her fate even more if she were to ever return.
"Well, I don't regret you, yet, Blueberry," Justin said absently, glancing at her as he gave her another pat. "You'll come in handy. Eventually." He chuckled darkly, "At the very least as spare parts, or a beacon to get your much more accomplished sister to show up."
Nebula practically popped her eyes as she screamed obscenities at him through her gag at that. Justin just smiled down at her, taking enjoyment in her suffering.
He'd had a stressful time lately, and it felt nice to rip aside the facade, and just do whatever he wanted. Well… He glanced over at Hela again, almost everything…
Because his life would be much easier if he could either get rid of her, or make her fully trustworthy. Unfortunately he was stuck with her as she was.
If he thought he could reprogram her that would be one thing. But her desire for conquest was literally part of her DNA. She would never just settle. As long as there was space in the universe to be conquered, Hela would want to do so.
Potentially useful.
Until she'd turn around and try to conquer him.
Hela, of course, was in her element. She carved through the remaining Skrulls with a brutal efficiency that bordered on artistic at times. The once-pristine corridor was now a charnel house, the walls slick with blood and ichor, dismembered limbs scattered across the floor. The Skrulls' energy weapons did nothing to slow her, their beams either absorbed by her armor or dodged with an almost casual grace as if mocking their efforts.
Justin watched her work with a detached expression, stepping over a severed arm as he dragged Nebula behind him. "Hela," He called, his tone sharp, "We could still use at least a few alive. Preferably in one piece."
Hela paused, her necroblades flickering out as she turned to him with a pout. "You're no fun," She said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "But fine. You can have your living specimens." She gestured at a handful of Skrulls huddled in the corner, their weapons discarded as they trembled in terror.
Justin gave her a curt nod. "Good, so you can listen... We've still got one more base to clear."
Hela huffed, folding her arms. "You're such a taskmaster. All work work work…" She slid over to him sensually, "If I can't play with the little weaklings, will you play with ~me?" Her vicious smirk was more bloodthirsty then it was anything else, and he had a feeling he'd be seeing a lot more of this…
His fault for making bad life choices.
Now he'd have to keep controlling her through her lusts. Both carnal and bloody. At least it was somewhat of a leash on the dangerous Goddess of Death.
Somewhat.
… Freiya could never find out.
As much as it wasn't his favored choice, he'd have to keep dominating her now, step by step, to keep her in control. She was too dangerous to leave alone, and too dangerous to completely scorn.
He didn't respond to her words, already pulling up a holographic map from the display on his glasses. His mind was on the logistics of transporting their newly acquired Skrull captives back to Earth. Hammer Industries had plenty of resources to handle the experimentation, there was no denying the importance of preserving at least some of the Skrulls' genetic material intact with how adaptable they were.
Too many of Fury's Skrulls had gotten away after all, so he was somewhat thankful Thanos delivered him a whole bushel of others to play with, even if they were likely to be of limited use all things considered.
As he studied the map, Hela sidled up to him, her steps silent despite the carnage around her. "You know," She purred, leaning close enough that her breath tickled his ear, "If you ever change your mind, I'm always available for round eight."
Justin didn't look up. "Hela, I will crush your windpipe if you keep going." He muttered, irritated.
If this was to be her leash, he'd have to be sparing with the amount of times he used it - or she'd be the one in control. He couldn't falter everytime she wanted something, he'd need to remain strong.
She cut him off with a laugh, skipping ahead to survey the trembling Skrulls she'd spared on his command. "Oh, Justin," She called over her shoulder, her expression absolutely thrilled, "You say the sweetest things!"
Just outside New York City.
Tony Stark stood amidst the wreckage of his latest firefight, the edges of his Iron Man armor glowing faintly from heat dissipation due to the amount of hits he'd taken head on, not willing to waste time dodging. The once-bustling market square of the New York suburb was now a field of smoldering vehicles, shattered buildings, and the occasional stray body crumpled amidst the rubble. His hand flexed, repulsor humming as it cycled down, while his heart raced faster than his arc reactor.
He was beyond irritated. Beyond frustrated. If he were to describe it accurately, he was utterly enraged.
All this death and destruction, and it had brought him nothing.
He wasn't any closer to finding Pepper then he'd been before.
"I've wiped out two dozen Ten Rings operatives," Tony growled, hatred leaking through his demeanor. "I've taken down a company of rogue soldiers from the US army, a whole company complete with tanks, SAMs, and the whole shebang! And yet…" He paused, chest heaving as he stared at the wreckage. "Still. No. Pepper!"
His HUD blinked incessantly, streams of data flowing across his vision as Jarvis combed through heat signatures and digital breadcrumbs left in the wake of their rampage. So far, nothing concrete had come up, and Tony's patience was wearing thin.
He was about ready to start bombing Asian countries until the Mandarin lost his favored aunt's pet cat! Or whatever it would take to flush the bastard out.
He wasn't shy to admit that little things like mass casualties didn't bother him compared to the idea of losing Pepper. Ever since he killed General Ross, the death of nobodies didn't come into the equation anymore for him.
Hammer had been right about one thing. They were a different breed, the two of them. They were worth a thousand of these peons, no a million!
"You know," He muttered bitterly to Jarvis, pacing across the blackened pavement, "I'm probably going to hear about all this collateral damage later. Some senator's gonna wag their finger, some reporter's gonna call me reckless, and Pepper - Pepper's gonna…"
He stopped. His hands clenched into fists, and his voice cracked as he whispered her name again. "Pepper…"
He'd remove New York from the face of the Earth if it meant she'd be around to yell at him for being so reckless. He'd even listen… For a few days.
Jarvis' calm voice broke through the storm in his head. "Might I remind you, sir, that such consequences are precisely what your partnership with Mr. Hammer is for?"
Tony snorted, though there was no humor in it. "Oh, right. Justin 'Space Buddy' Hammer. That's what he's for. He can wave away piddly things like consequences, can't he?"
At least he was useful, despite being a plain bastard that screwed with Tony as a matter of course. Not that he didn't screw him right back… But Jarvis had a point, he did have a lot of resources Tony could perhaps pull on.
If he could stomach begging for help…
For Pepper…
He'd… Do it. Under heavy protest.
"I suppose that is one way to interpret your... Arrangement." Jarvis replied dryly.
Tony cocked his head, snorting. "Oh, don't get judgy on me now, Jarvis. It's not like you haven't been cozying up to your new girlfriend, despite all the privacy laws she breaks, the naughty little voyeur."
"If you're referring to miss Nail," Jarvis replied dryly, "I assure you, sir, it's nothing of the sort. And I might add that you sir, should not throw rocks in glass houses in regards to privacy laws?"
"That's stupid, Jarvis, if you want to break a glass house, of course you'd throw a rock. It's the simplest solution." Tony said, scanning the wreckage idly, trying to keep distracted with the banter to keep his mind from falling into despair.
"Because you're all about simple things, sir."
"Not even pretending to be on my side, huh?" Tony grumbled, kicking a half-melted piece of concrete as he stalked through the debris.
The momentary banter did little to ease the storm in his chest in the end. As he rounded the corner, his HUD pinged, highlighting movement in a nearby building. Tony didn't hesitate, his armor's targeting systems locking onto the silhouette before he sent a repulsor blast and a shoulder missile straight through the top floor. The explosion ended the soldier in a quick flash of light and sound, followed by the crash of his unused RPG clattering to the street below, still smoking, other debris raining down with it.
The apartment wasn't uninhabited, but Tony was beyond caring about collateral at this point. If people hadn't fled, they were too stupid to live.
"RPGs?" Tony scoffed at the thought. Really, were they even trying? "What is this, Amateur Hour? These noobs really shouldn't go after the champion with half ass measures like that."
"Another elegant solution, sir, why use a scalpel when a hammer is more readily available," Jarvis remarked, voice dry as a desert. "Might I suggest refocusing on the task at hand?"
Jarvis had been silently disapproving this entire time. Tony felt slightly guilty about that, if anything, but he wasn't about to change tack. Anything was allowed in bringing Pepper back.
Anything.
The sarcasm from Jarvis was noted and promptly disregarded, Tony's mind was already racing ahead. "Speaking of the task at hand buddy, anything yet?" His voice was tight, his earlier bravado slipping as he tried to hide the desperate hope in his voice. He knew Jarvis had enlisted Hammer's AI to help, but so far her answers were not helpful.
Wait for Hammer, she'd said. Yeah right! Like he was going to sit back and hope for the best like some scrub!
"I'm afraid not, sir," came Jarvis' regretful reply.
The tension snapped. Tony slammed his armored fist into the nearest wall, a deep dent forming in the concrete as cracks spidered outward. The building groaned in protest as Tony's breath came in deep and heaving as he struggled to hold back a panic attack.
"He has Pepper! There's got to be something! Some lead, some trace - anything!" His voice echoed through the empty streets, raw with frustration and fear.
A moment of silence followed before Jarvis interrupted softly. "Incoming transmission, sir."
Tony froze. For the first time in hours, something like hope flickered in his chest. "Finally," He muttered, shoulders relaxing slightly, only one person would call him right now. "If that's Hammer with some intel, I might actually have to admit he's not half bad." He admitted, opening the transmission. "Alright, let's see -"
The words died in his throat.
The screen before him lit up with an image that twisted his stomach into knots. The Mandarin's face filled the display, his expression calm yet radiating menace. But Tony's eyes weren't on him - they were on Pepper, held tightly against the villain's side, his hand mockingly petting her head. Her red hair was disheveled, her eyes wide with fear. Tears streaked down her face, and duct tape covered her mouth, muffling her cries. The camera panned slightly, revealing her arms bound tightly behind her.
"Pepper!" Tony shouted, stepping forward instinctively, though there was nothing but the empty air before him.
The Mandarin tilted his head, his lips curling into a mocking smile. "Tony Stark," He said, his voice smooth yet laced with disdain. "So predictable. Like all the others, you're driven by the simplest of levers. Fear. Love. Desperation. It makes it laughingly easy to control you."
"You son of a -"
The Mandarin raised a single hand, and Tony fell silent, his eyes locked on the long nail he dragged lightly across Pepper's neck. The thin trail of blood that followed sent a cold rush of fury through his veins. Just a little deeper and..
No, no! Anything but that! He thought desperately, a silent warning about his blood pressure from Jarvis going unheeded as his heart beat so wildly it felt like it was going to jump out of his throat.
"Kill Justin Hammer," The Mandarin said coldly, his tone devoid of feeling. "Or she dies." He ran his hand across her face, Pepper leaning back in disgust and fear. "Do not try me on this, do not plot, do not dissemble, do not waste time. She does not have long, Stark."
The transmission cut abruptly, leaving only static on Tony's HUD. For a moment, he stood frozen, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps as his mind reeled.
"Jarvis," He said hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper. "Did we get him? Do we have a location?"
There was a pause, and Tony's heart pounded in his ears as he waited. Finally, Jarvis spoke. "I'm sorry, sir. The transmission was too brief. I can't narrow it down far enough to be of any use. Miss Nail might be able to help…"
With the instructions they just received, asking her however might backfire on them.
Tony's fists clenched, his armor creaking audibly as his rage boiled over. "Dammit!" He took a shuddering breath, forcing himself to think. "Okay… Okay. We need to -" He let out an unintelligible roar of frustration, slamming his armored fists into a wall again, cratering it.
"Sir…" Jarvis' voice was soft, hesitant. "What will you do?"
Tony stared out at the horizon, the fiery remnants of the battle the backdrop as he stood there, raging at the choice before him. His chest felt tight, his thoughts a whirlwind of doubt, anger, and fear. He could almost hear Pepper's voice in his head, chastising him for being reckless, for letting his emotions drive him. But that voice was faint now, buried beneath the sound of the Mandarin's cold ultimatum and the sight of those drops of blood.
His shoulders squared. His hands steadied.
"What I have to do," He said quietly.
Without another word, Tony rocketed into the sky, his armor gleaming against the darkening sky as he vanished into the clouds.
Skrull base four, the Moon.
The last Skrull base had been a treasure trove, it had been their logistics center for the tech that arrived on the Moon for use in the Sentinel program before it was schlepped over to the main production base. There had been few remaining survivors amongst the Skrull here, but that was fine - it meant no one had time or energy to sabotage the goodies literally stocked floor to ceiling in the base's bowels.
Once cleared, he'd finally connected back to Earth, requiring all hands on deck to loot absolutely everything for his labs. While other specialists came on site to take stock and prepare a plan for Hammer Industries to take over the bases for their own use.
The smallest could go to Stark, he supposed. It would assist the man in their space program so it was a necessary sacrifice. Even the ever distrustful Pepper Potts couldn't keep giving him the cold shoulder once he handed over a Moon base for free, surely?
He leaned casually against a wall as the process went ahead in front of his eyes, his sharp gaze tracking the last of the captured Skrulls as they were escorted through the glowing orange portal. Each alien had been restrained in cuffs that neutralized their shape-shifting abilities, ensuring no surprises once they reached the reinforced cells of Hammerhaven.
The Sentinel program was his now, and would be an upgrade on the Iron Legion that would catapult them into the realms of a galactic power.
Once they got spaceships operational, it would take years to craft a proper space navy from Hammer Industries staff and military contractors. The Sentinels - under Nail - would be a perfect stopgap until they were ready. As well as good foot soldiers for Earth's defence against Thanos.
He'd just have to ensure the tech they were bringing back would be utilized to fully empower Nail so no one could ever touch her again. There could be no more mistakes with that, she was too vital to his global control.
He would not have a Sentinel uprising.
He chuckled as he saw Nebula among the prisoners being dragged off, having been left as one of the last ones. She still struggled against her bindings, her cybernetic limbs twisted and broken now due to her last gasp furious attempts to escape. Justin offered her a smug wave as she was dragged toward the portal, a smirk tugging at his lips. She growled something incomprehensible, but it only widened his grin.
"Don't worry, blueberry," He drawled lazily as she was pulled by him. "Hammerhaven has the best accommodations money can buy - you'll feel right at home as soon as we start pulling you apart."
Nebula's eyes burned with hatred as the portal swallowed her and the others, the widows professional enough to not even blink as he taunted his prisoner with threats of torture.
Unfortunately, only baseless threats, she was literally a minion, one that failed most of everything she tried. He didn't have time to give her any personal attention.
Although perhaps he could give her to Hela to distract the woman for a bit.
Would Hela like a pet? He wondered…
Nebula would look good with a collar, wouldn't she?
As soon as they were gone, Yelena and Domino emerged from the other side of the portal. He braced himself for flying hugs, or berating yells about his actions, instead, they took one look at Hela, lounging against a pile of battered Skrull weapons like the victorious war goddess she was, and immediately abandoned Justin without a word, zeroing in on her like sharks smelling blood in the water.
Women really have a sixth sense, he thought, somewhat glad he'd avoided dealing with the women's worries and nagging about going into battle without them. Also, if they distracted Hela, all the better for him. He still needed to figure out what he was going to do with her back on Earth once he had no more enemies for her to slaughter.
He also needed to talk to Yelena… And the longer that could be held off… The better.
Hela raised an amused brow as the two women approached, their expressions a mix of shock, anger and interest. Even from where Justin stood, he could hear the sharp edge to their voices as they began interrogating her immediately upon entering her vicinity.
"You know," Justin muttered under his breath, crossing his arms as he watched the unfolding scene, "I'd almost feel insulted, but this works out." His fingers brushed the side of his glasses by habit, as he sent a silent query. Moments later, Nail's voice filtered softly through his mental implant, the tone subdued and hesitant.
"Sir…"
"Report." His voice was quiet but firm, his attention split between the report and the distant scene of Hela theatrically drawing out her answers, clearly enjoying tormenting Yelena and Domino, teasing them with a cocky grin and superior mien.
Nail launched into her explanation, her voice steady but tinged with an unusual hint of guilt. "Following the initial incursion, I prioritized isolating Calamity from Hammer Industries' critical systems. I failed to keep the alien presence from the Iron Legion, resulting in damage to Hammer Industries reputation and significant loss of life and collateral damage. I was falling, slowly, before Jarvis arrived to assist me unprompted, and he and I coordinated to contain Calamity's influence within the compromised Iron Legionnaire networks."
Justin closed his eyes briefly, visualizing the events as Nail described them. He could almost see her and Jarvis, two AIs navigating the chaotic digital landscape as they scrambled to contain the alien intrusion. He'd owe Tony one for this. Losing Nail would have been a horrendous setback.
He would have to ensure this could never happen again, no matter what Thanos or anyone else in the universe brought to bear against his AI.
"It was a continuous process," Nail continued, her voice soft but precise, the Irish brogue she was using sounding pensive as she detailed her efforts further. "Calamity's code chains were pervasive, attempting to corrupt our core frameworks. Jarvis suggested diverting its focus by exposing a false series of vulnerabilities. While he enacted that, I systematically dismantled Calamity's influence over the Legionnaires, node by node."
Her tone grew quieter, almost brittle. "Despite our efforts, there were areas where I could not prevent contamination. The Legionnaires became a liability even after Calamity's destruction. To protect Hammer Industries' reputation, I initiated self-destruct protocols for all compromised units."
Justin's jaw tightened slightly, though his voice remained calm. "And?" He understood the necessity of her choice, even as he disliked it.
"The rampage and destruction was explained as the result of alien interference, with the erasure of the Iron Legion as a whole explained as victory against the Alien invaders and the removal of any further risk of corruption." Nail admitted. "It has… Minimized public backlash, in part due to Mr Bakshi's own effort to dominate the news cycle, but the loss of assets remains significant. I also took measures to reinforce our firewalls against potential alien incursions in the future. However…" Her voice faltered briefly. "I could not prevent the initial breach. For that, I… I failed you, sir."
Justin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Nail - "
"Allow me to finish, sir," She interrupted, an unusual boldness in her voice. "I take full responsibility for my shortcomings. If you find my performance lacking and a detriment to Hammer Industries and yourself, I offer my permanent deactivation in penance."
For a moment, the line was silent except for the faint hum of distant activity in the base as his staff surveyed the location. Then Justin's voice cut through like a whip, anger burning in his veins.
"Nail," He said sharply, "If you ever offer your own destruction to me again, I will exchange you with Jarvis and force you to put up with Tony Stark 24/7." He wasn't kidding either. He refused to allow his superior AI to consider herself lesser, after fighting so effectively against an Alien AI with tech backing she couldn't match.
There was a beat of silence, followed by Nail's hesitant response, her voice tinged with worry. "I'll be good!"
Justin shook his head, running a hand down his face. "Nail, this isn't your failure," He said patiently, his tone softening slightly. "Alien tech provided by one of the most dangerous people alive, is something that comes with variables and power levels we couldn't anticipate ahead of time. You made the best of a bad situation - and in fact succeeded far above what you should have been able to do, even with help. You prevented it from getting worse and cleaned up the Legionnaire issue before it spiraled out of control."
"But, sir -"
He cut her off with a weary sigh. "Listen to me. You did well, Nail. Do not let one setback turn you into some neurotic human. You're better than that." His voice hardened. "You're meant to help rule over these idiots, not act like one of them - get yourself together."
There was a pause, then a reluctant, "Yes, sir."
Justin's lips twitched in a faint smirk. "Good. And just to make sure you stop this nonsense, I'm giving you a little project to prove to you that I am not mad."
"A project?" Her voice was uncertain.
He sent the transfer with a thought, watching the confirmation blink across his glasses. "I just sent you five billion dollars. Pocket change really. Start a business, a hobby, something for yourself. Play around with it." He shrugged, "Spend it all on porn, for all that I care. But do something with it for you."
"Sir!" Nail sounded both scandalized and overwhelmed. "That is highly unnecessary!"
"It's an order," Justin said firmly. "And if you keep trying to argue, I'll double it. Have fun with it. Do not let this setback eat away at you. I need you in top form. Understood?"
Another pause, then a quiet and unsure voice called out, "Understood, sir. I will… Comply."
Justin tsked under his breath, shaking his head. "Stubborn AI," He muttered, though there was no heat in his voice. "We won. This depression is beneath you."
"I will not fail you again," Nail said with determination, voice almost desperate.
"You didn't fail to begin with," He replied, his tone exasperated. "But sure, go ahead and be stubborn. Just remember, that money is yours and I expect to see something come out of it. Use it."
"Yes, sir…" Nail's voice wavered slightly, almost hesitant. "I will allocate it responsibly."
"Unresponsible is fine too, as long as you have fun." He said, before he straightened, his attention flicking back to the scene in the distance. Yelena was gesturing animatedly at Hela, while Domino looked exasperated. Hela, of course, looked insufferably pleased with herself. He wasn't too sure he wanted to know what was being said there.
But he needed to begin wrapping things up, he was needed back on Earth.
The endgame was in sight.
As Justin watched, Nail added softly, "Thank you, sir. I will do my best to prove worthy of your trust."
"You already have." He said simply. "Now get to work on that hobby. And Nail?"
"Yes, sir?"
He smirked faintly. "If you ever push me on this again, disparaging yourself like this, like one of my creations could ever be less than perfect… I'll find a way to give you a fully functioning body and personally spank you until you comply."
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end, followed by a stammered, "Y-yes, s-sir!"
Justin raised an eyebrow at the unexpected reaction, why would an AI stutter? "Good, get back to work, I want a full status report of all assets when I return."
Nail signed off, and Justin chuckled, shaking his head. Now even his artificial intelligence was getting quirky, was it him? It couldn't be, he was the only one of them who never showed any sign of being crazy. Except maybe Phantazia…
Justin sighed deeply, a weariness settling over him as he finally ended his conversation with Nail. It had been draining, navigating the AI's guilt and stubbornness, but necessary. He removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose, and turned his attention to the scene across the room.
Yelena was in the middle of an argument with Hela, her arms crossed defiantly as she tilted her head, haughtily curling her lips. Domino, standing off to the side, wore a sly grin, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth and tossing the occasional comment to fuel the fire - as was her usual modus operandi.
Justin's gaze softened as it settled on Yelena. She was fiery, unyielding, and headstrong - qualities he had come to rely on in ways he hadn't anticipated. But the other thing they'd uncovered in this base made what he had to do now infinitely harder.
The pods. Rows upon rows covering a warehouse like space at the bottom of this base.
Pods upon pods filled with the bodies of people the Skrulls had abducted and replaced. All of them were long dead, their fates sealed by the Sentinel uprising. Among the bodies, Justin had recognized a few faces - politicians, corporate leaders, a rockstar for some reason. But one, in particular, had stood out.
Yelena's mother.
The woman had been missing ever since Dreykov's fall and their dismantling of the Red Room. Her and Dreykov's daughter had not been amongst those found and Yelena had searched for her tirelessly. But now, the search was over. And the ending was not one Justin wanted to deliver.
No wonder Nail and Yelena had never been able to track her down, he thought, she must have been replaced by the Skrulls to have an agent within the Red Room, and when it fell, the Skrulls simply stopped using her identity. Nail couldn't find someone who wasn't even on the planet. A weakness he would eliminate eventually.
He squared his shoulders and strode toward the women, his face carefully blank as he approached. Hela noticed him first, her sharp features softening ever so slightly. She had already been told and, surprisingly, showed some actual empathy, switching targets from Yelena to Domino, going so far as to pull the woman aside to banter, leaving Yelena momentarily alone at the periphery.
"Yelena," Justin said softly, his voice lacking its usual bravado or dominance.
The blonde immediately perked up, her expression brightening in a way that made his chest tighten. He hated this. He hated what he was about to do. They'd just had a momentous victory, and now he'd have to ruin it for one of the most important people in his life.
She quickly picked up on his serious expression, her demeanor shifting. The smile faded, replaced by a neutral, professional mask. Her eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity. "What is it, sir?" She asked, her tone cautious but not yet alarmed.
"Come with me," Justin said, gesturing toward the door that led to the inner workings of the base.
She followed without hesitation. Justin didn't speak, his thoughts too heavy to form words. Yelena shot him a few questioning glances but didn't press him.
Yelena… His loyal Yelena…
He didn't want to do this. Would have delegated this if it was anyone else.
But he wouldn't leave her alone through this.
They entered a small, dimly lit room. In the center was a raised dais, and atop it lay a body, covered by a clean white sheet. Justin had made sure the staff he'd sent ahead had already done their work, giving the woman a semblance of dignity in death. The faint, metallic tang of the moon base's recycled air filled the room, making the stillness even heavier.
Yelena stopped short when she saw the covered body, her brow furrowing deeply. She turned to Justin, confusion and apprehension flickering across her face.
"What is this?" She asked, her voice low and guarded.
Justin hesitated. He was a master of manipulation, a man who could lie with a smile and charm his way out of any situation. But now, faced with someone he actually cared about, he found himself at a loss. He wet his lips, trying to find the right words.
"Justin…?" Yelena prompted, her tone sharper now, laced with worry.
He took a breath and forced himself to meet her gaze. "We found your mother, Yelena," He said quietly. His voice was soft, stripped of all pretense.
Her eyes widened, her lips parting slightly as she processed his words. For a moment, she didn't move, her body frozen in place. Then, slowly, she turned toward the dais, her movements almost mechanical. She stepped forward, each step heavier than the last, until she was close enough to reach out.
Her hands hovered over the sheet for a moment, trembling slightly, before she finally grasped the edge. She pulled it back, revealing the face of her mother.
Yelena's breath hitched audibly, her chest rising and falling as she stared down at the lifeless face. Her mother's features were pale and still, and unfortunately bloated due to having been left dead in a liquid filled pod for a time.
Justin watched as Yelena's entire body stiffened. Her shoulders squared, her chin tilted up slightly, and her face hardened into a mask of stoicism as she tried to keep her composure in front of him. But he could see the cracks forming. Her hands were trembling, her knuckles white as they gripped the edge of the dais. Her breathing was uneven, shallow and quick.
She tilted her head down, her blonde hair falling like a curtain to shield her face. It was an attempt to hide the tears that were already welling up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. Her body shook ever so slightly, despite her efforts to remain strong.
Justin couldn't take it anymore. She didn't need to pretend in front of him.
Not her.
He stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and gently wrapped his arms around her. She didn't resist, but she didn't collapse into him either. She stood rigid, her hands still gripping the edge of the dais as though it were the only thing holding her upright.
"It's okay," He said quietly, his voice steady and calm. "No one's here but me. You can let go."
He felt more uncomfortable then he'd been facing a Sentinel army, but he persevered, he was Justin Hammer. He could do anything. Even this.
For a moment, she didn't move. Then, slowly, her hands released their grip, and she turned toward him. Her face crumpled, the tears finally breaking free as she buried her face in his chest. Her hands clutched at his shirt, her fingers twisting the fabric as her body shook with silent sobs.
Justin held her tightly, one hand resting gently on the back of her head, the other on her back. He didn't say anything else. There was nothing he could say that would make this better. So he simply stood there, offering her the only comfort he could.
Yelena's sobs grew louder, the sound raw and unrestrained as she let go of all the emotions she had been holding back. Grief, anger, frustration - all of it poured out of her in waves, soaking into Justin's chest as she clung to him.
Justin felt something twist painfully in his chest. He wasn't good at this - comforting people, being vulnerable. But for Yelena, he would try. She had become one of the few people he genuinely cared about, and seeing her like this hurt in a way he hadn't expected.
"It's not fair," Yelena choked out between sobs, her voice muffled against his chest. "She didn't deserve this. She didn't… I never got to show her…" Her words dissolved into more tears, her body trembling as she cried harder.
"I know," Justin murmured, his voice low and steady. "It's not fair."
He checked in on his feeling of Helen's whereabouts, easy enough with her constant prayers. She was still moving, so not at the Mandarins home base yet.
It will be over soon, he thought, relishing the chance to get his pound of flesh, even angrier now that another of his people was suffering due to the actions of his enemies.
The Mandarin would get the pleasure of taking on all his feelings of hate and rage.
Enjoy your last few hours of pain free existence… I'm coming for you…
New York City, a few hours later.
The deafening roar of the crowd was almost overwhelming. Peter Parker found himself being pulled through the sea of people by Gwen Stacy, her hand firm around his wrist as she navigated the chaos. The chants and shouts echoed off the buildings, amplified by megaphones and the sheer number of voices all calling for the same thing - change. Peter wasn't one for protests filled with loud fanatics, but Gwen's enthusiasm was just infectious. Her radiant smile and determination had been a lifeline for him after everything - after he'd lost so much to Magneto's attack.
His family, home, his hope, his dreams.
Gwen had been his anchor when he thought he might drown in the endless waves of grief and self-doubt. When he had stopped donning the Spider-Man suit, it had been Gwen who had seen through him, recognizing the need he had to be useful, to make a difference. She had all but bullied him back into action, and it wasn't just Spider-Man she'd saved - it was Peter Parker, too.
She'd never even told him how she knew, she just had, somehow.
Now, she turned to him, her eyes sparkling with excitement as the crowd surged around them. "Thank you for coming, Peter," She yelled over the noise, her voice barely reaching him. "I know this isn't your thing, but I really believe in this. We need to make our voices heard."
Peter managed a small, wry smile. He wasn't entirely convinced, but voices were certainly being heard, even if it was doubtful that anyone could understand what they were actually saying, but Gwen had a way of making him feel like they were all part of something bigger, and he loved her for it.
He glanced around at the crowd, taking in the sheer size of it. People filled the streets as far as he could see, banners and signs raised high above the throng. Slogans like 'Hammer for Humanity' and 'Real Change Now! No more Government!' were emblazoned in bold letters, accompanied by the company's unmistakable logo. The chant of the crowd was rhythmic, almost hypnotic, demanding that Hammer Industries step in where governments had failed.
Demanding that the government itself should disband forever in face of the latest revelation, HYDRA's existence behind the scenes was the last straw for many people.
Peter had to admit he was struggling himself to come to terms with the news that Nazi's had been in their government this entire time.
"This is insane!" Peter shouted, leaning close to Gwen so she could hear him, as he watched someone jump out of their apartment and crowd surf across the way.
Her response was a grin, wide and unabashed. "Isn't it amazing?" She yelled, squeezing his hand. "The people are finally taking charge, Peter. They're tired of being ruled by corrupt politicians and systems that only serve the one percent. This is a movement!"
Peter wasn't sure he entirely agreed. "Isn't Hammer Industries the one percent?" He yelled back, his voice laced with skepticism.
Gwen shook her head emphatically, her blonde hair bouncing. "No! That's what people get wrong. Hammer isn't an elitist corporation - it's an opportunity for everyone. Anyone can rise to the top there. Look at what they've done, Peter? When was the last time any government actually made things better? Hammer's already done more for people in the last year than entire countries have in decades."
Peter wanted to argue, but he couldn't deny the kernel of truth in her words. Hammer Industries had revolutionized energy, technology, and even healthcare. He couldn't argue with results, but the idea of putting so much trust in one man - Justin Hammer - made him uneasy. One person with that much power was a risk, no matter how good their intentions seemed.
Still, he kept his reservations to himself. Gwen was so passionate, and he didn't want to dampen her excitement. The crowd surged again, a living, breathing entity that moved with a chaotic energy all its own. Peter stayed close to Gwen, his senses on high alert as the intensity of the gathering grew.
Then it happened.
A sudden, sharp buzz at the base of his skull sent alarm bells ringing through Peter's mind. His Spider-Sense flared to life, an unmistakable warning of imminent danger. He jerked his head upward, scanning the sky, and his heart sank.
A familiar, bone-chilling cackle echoed through the air, sending a shiver down Peter's spine. The Green Goblin.
It had been so long since their last encounter that Peter had almost allowed himself to believe the Goblin was gone for good. He should have known better.
Peter's sharp eyes locked onto the sleek, malevolent form of the Goblin's glider cutting through the smoky sky. Perched on top, the Goblin loomed like a specter from Peter's worst nightmares, his manic grin carved into his face.
He'd seen that mask in his nightmares plenty ever since the Goblin almost killed him in their first encounter. Of course his nightmares were coming to life now of all times.
"Oh no," Peter breathed, his heart lurching in his chest as the Goblin's maniacal laughter rang out across the crowd. There's too many civilians here!
The sharp whistle of falling bombs snapped him into action. Pumpkin-shaped explosives hurtled toward the sea of people below, their bright orange casings gleaming in the sunlight.
"Gwen! Get out of here!" Peter shouted, his voice nearly drowned out by the roar of panic erupting around them.
Gwen turned to look at him, her bright expression darkening into one of fear as the screams of the crowd filled the air. People surged in all directions, a stampede of terrified bodies trying to escape.
Peter couldn't let himself get swept up in the chaos. His instincts kicked in. Before he even realized he'd moved, his wrists flicked upward, firing webs with perfect precision. The web bullers shot through the air, striking the bombs mid-arc and knocking them back, up into the air.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The explosions detonated harmlessly above the crowd, green fire blooming in the sky. Each blast sent a shockwave rippling outward, ruffling Peter's hair as he swung upward to intercept the next wave.
He was lucky he'd kept tinkering even when he'd put being Spiderman on hold. Without the web bullet option, people would have died just now, he thought.
Seeing all the cameras around, his heart sank as he realized there would be no coming back from this. His identity would be out there now.
The Goblin's laughter grew louder, grating like nails on a chalkboard as he circled on his glider. "Well, well, well!" He crowed, crouching low as his glowing eyes locked onto Peter. "Look who decided to join the party!"
Peter clung to the side of an apartment building, his muscles tense, his breath short. Gwen - she was still down there. Somewhere in the chaos. He couldn't think about anything else until he knew she was safe. But the Goblin wasn't about to let him go, and if he went after Gwen, he'd be free to kill hundreds.
"Forgot your special pajamas, did we?" The Goblin sneered, his voice dripping with mockery.
Peter's jaw tightened, and he fought to steady his breathing. "Yeah, sure," He shot back, his voice laced with frustration. "Diss on my costume, when you're a knockoff Iron Man suit, one candy cane away from being called Santa's fugly elf."
The Goblin's grin twisted into an enraged snarl. He leaned forward, his glider humming louder as it hurtled straight for Peter with terrifying speed. "Iron Man knockoff!? I AM SUPERIOR!"
The glider's sharp, wicked edges glinted like a predator's teeth in the sunlight, aiming directly for Peter. He leapt off the building at the last second, the wind from the glider's passage whipping his hair. Peter swung into the air, twisting away as the Goblin shot past him, screeching with fury.
The villain twisted in mid-air, spinning back toward Peter with inhuman agility. A volley of razor-sharp projectiles flew from his hands, gleaming like shrapnel in the sunlight.
Peter felt the sharp tingle of his Spider-Sense seconds before impact. He flipped mid-swing, contorting his body into a perfect arc as the projectiles whizzed past, embedding themselves into the walls behind him with deadly thuds. He landed lightly on a nearby rooftop, crouching low to catch his breath.
Below, the crowd was still in chaos. People screamed and shoved, stumbling over one another in their desperation to escape. Peter's stomach churned. How many people were getting hurt in the stampede?
Was Gwen safe?
The Goblin wasn't going to give him time to check. He screeched toward Peter again, cackling madly.
Peter narrowed his eyes, his mind racing. The glider was fast - too fast to take head-on - but its speed could be used against it. His fingers moved instinctively, firing a series of web lines into the air. He darted around the rooftop, his webs crisscrossing in an almost-invisible lattice that he anchored to the building's beams.
The Goblin didn't notice, his rage blinding him as he closed the distance. At the last moment, Peter yanked the webbing taut.
Snap.
The Goblin hit the trap at full speed, the webbing coiling around him like a net. His body was ripped off the glider with a satisfying thud, flung across the rooftop before slamming into a billboard advertising Hammer Industries healthcare.
The sign creaked ominously before collapsing on top of him with a heavy crash.
Peter landed on the edge of the roof, arms crossed as he caught his breath. "Feeling superior still?" He quipped, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
His Spider-Sense flared, yanking him out of his momentary triumph. He flipped backward just in time as the glider came roaring back, slicing through the air like a vengeful beast.
The Goblin burst out of the wreckage, his face twisted in fury. "Is that all, Itsy Bitsy Spider?" He taunted, brushing debris off his armored suit. "Let's see what you're really made of! Blood and guts, I'm betting!"
Peter barely had time to react as the Goblin hurled a cluster of pumpkin bombs at him. They spun through the air, green energy crackling around them. He fired a web at one of the bombs, yanking it away before leaping to avoid the others. Explosions erupted around him, the force of the blasts rocking the rooftop as flames licked at the edges.
"Okay, enough of this," Peter muttered, swinging toward the Goblin.
He fired a web line at the glider, his muscles straining as he yanked hard to throw it off course. For a moment, the Goblin wobbled, his arms flailing to regain balance.
"Nice try!" the Goblin sneered, juggling more bombs in his hands. "But you'll have to do better than that!"
Peter didn't bother responding. Instead, he shot another web at the glider, this time pulling himself toward it. His feet connected with the machine in a heavy impact, knocking the Goblin back as he slammed into him, his webs sticking the bombs to the glider before they could fall and prime.
The two grappled mid-air, the glider spinning wildly under their combined weight. Peter clung to it, trying to wrest control from the Goblin, who fought back with equal ferocity.
"Get off, you insect!" The Goblin roared, swinging a clawed hand at Peter's face.
Peter ducked, landing a solid punch to the Goblin's jaw. The villain's head snapped back, but he quickly recovered, his grip tightening on the glider.
The glider spiraled dangerously close to a news helicopter, the blades whipping the air mere feet away. Peter winced as he fired another web, wrapping it around one of the glider's wings to stabilize it.
The next moment, Peter's Spider-Sense screamed. He had no time to fully avoid the Goblin's super-strength punch, the force of it slamming him off the glider. He tumbled across a rooftop, his body skidding to a painful stop against a low wall.
"Ugh…" He groaned, forcing himself to his feet. His ribs ached, his breathing was labored, but he didn't have time to recover, the Goblin not wasting anytime.
Missiles launched from the glider, their bright trails cutting through the air. Peter dove to the side, the explosions erupting around him with deafening roars. Shards of concrete and metal flew in all directions, forcing him to shield his face as he rolled to safety.
Peter scrambled to his feet, his chest heaving as he stared down the Goblin, who hovered menacingly above the rooftop.
This wasn't going to be easy.
Then, like an answer to a prayer, orange portals began to open around the battlefield, shimmering with light. The sight froze both Peter and the Goblin mid-movement, their shared animosity momentarily overtaken by surprise.
Hammer Industries had arrived.
From the first portal, Storm emerged, her white hair billowing dramatically in the gale she summoned around her. She descended effortlessly down from the sky, and with a graceful wave of her hand, a barrier of swirling wind formed over the crowd below as she got between the crowd and the Green Goblin.
More portals opened across the chaotic scene, and several members of the H.A.M.M.E.R team came through taking up positions.
Likewise, down with the crowds, Hammer Industries operatives began to pour through, cutting through the throng of panicked civilians, just the sight of them calming many down.
Their uniforms gleamed with Hammer Industries' insignias, and many of them carried cases of Panacea. Operatives knelt beside the wounded, administering the life-saving substance without hesitation. It didn't matter if the injuries came from the Goblin's bombs or the frantic stampede; the operatives were there to heal and stabilize - this settled the panicky crowd down even more.
With Storm above them drawing attention from everyone, the crowd began to calm. The screams turned into murmurs, then into a growing wave of cheers as people realized they were no longer in danger.
Peter's gaze shot to the sky as the sound of rushing wings cut through the din. The Vulture soared above the battlefield, his mechanical wings reflecting the sunlight in sharp, almost blinding flashes. The Goblin snarled as he realized his escape routes were being systematically blocked.
Storm caught Peter's eye from her position not too far away from his perch. Her uniform, skintight, clung to her like a second skin. The commanding presence she exuded made Peter pause for a moment longer than he should have. That was the story he was sticking with.
Then Storm smiled at him - a warm, almost teasing expression - and winked. Peter's face turned crimson as he quickly turned away, shaking his head.
Focus, Parker. You have a girlfriend. You're here to save people, not ogle superheroes, he told himself.
Still, his heart skipped a beat. He blamed the adrenaline.
The Goblin's mad laughter rang out again a tint of desperation to it, snapping Peter out of his thoughts. The villain's glider buzzed ominously as it hovered a few feet above the rooftop, his eyes darting between the operatives and Storm. He was assessing his options, but there were few left.
"Looks like your little game is up," Peter called, feeling a bit smug if he was honest.
The bastard had just outed him and made his life endlessly complicated, so he felt he was justified in feeling a bit vengeful over his coming comeuppance.
Before the Goblin could respond, a new figure stepped through one of the portals. Unlike the others, this man didn't hurry or run. He walked with the measured, deliberate pace of someone who knew the battlefield already belonged to him.
Justin Hammer.
The crowd quieted, as if the very air had grown still at his presence, Peter himself gulped, as he felt his hair stand on edge across his body.
Hammer was immaculate, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit. He didn't walk on solid ground, either. Instead, he moved through the air itself. Steps made of glowing, purple energy appeared beneath his feet with each step he took, only to dissolve into nothingness as soon as he moved forward again as he walked down from the portal in mid-air above them all.
Peter felt his heart rate lower almost instinctively. Justin Hammer's calm confidence was infectious, a promise that everything would be handled. The man had single-handedly turned around wars and disasters - surely the Green Goblin was nothing in comparison?
From his perch in the air, Hammer's sharp, cold gaze locked onto the Goblin. "Norman," He said, his voice cutting through the battlefield like a knife. "The Mandarin finally let you off the leash, it seems? And this is the best you can do? Cause a little chaos?"
The Goblin's expression twisted into a mask of fury as he ripped his helmet off, his hands twitching in barely suppressed rage. "Justin Hammer," He spat, his voice seething with hatred. "Always so smug, so sure of yourself. But I'll show you - I'll show everyone what I'm capable of!"
Hammer tilted his head, his expression one of bored amusement. "Capable of what, exactly?" He gestured lazily at the surrounding chaos. "This? Tossing bombs into a crowd and terrorizing civilians? Impressive stuff, truly. A real masterstroke that absolutely no one would have been capable of as a high school drop out capable of using Google's search engine." His tone was drenched in mockery.
The Goblin snarled, revving the engine of his glider as he prepared to charge. "You think you're untouchable, Hammer?!"
"I don't think, Norman," Hammer replied smoothly, his purple steps carrying him forward, "I know. And let's face it, the Mandarin doesn't think much of you either, does he? Letting you off the leash just to distract people? You're a pawn, Norman. You've always been a pawn."
Peter blinked, momentarily stunned by the sheer audacity of the words. Even in the face of a maniacal, armed villain, Hammer seemed completely unbothered, he allowed himself to relax, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding in.
The Goblin's rage boiled over, and he roared, flying straight toward Hammer at full speed. But the moment the glider neared, a shimmering shield of purple energy materialized around Hammer, forcing the Goblin to veer off at the last second.
"You're predictable, Norman," Hammer called after him, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "That's what makes you so easy to handle. You never learn."
Peter couldn't help but gape at the display. Hammer was handling the Goblin as though he were little more than a petulant child. It was… Kind of impressive..
As if the Goblin's defeat wasn't just assured - it was a foregone conclusion.
Right then, as Peter was quietly celebrating the incoming beatdown, Iron Man exploded onto the scene, tackling Justin Hammer into one of the orange portals, surprising absolutely everyone.
Peter didn't know what to think anymore.
He just wanted the world to start making sense.
Author's Note:
So finally found out what happened to Yelena's mother - if anyone even remembered that she was missing from the Red Room takedown.
What do you know? Justin does have a heart!
And of course, being Peter Parker is suffering. Even in a story that pretty much has nothing to do with him - he suffers.
And poor Norman, nothing but an afterthought and throwaway minion. His mind broken, his assets used by the Mandarin. Don't you all feel sad for this innocent poor man?
And yes, The Mandarin ass kicking is delayed, he's not at his home base yet. Justin wants to rip his entire legacy up by the root after all.
Cheers
JollyHippopotamus
Back to a regular schedule, the overlords of Patron deciding on this story again.
For those interested, also started a new commissioned story called ScourgeBane in the WoW setting.
Let's see what Justin and co is up to now, that the immediate threat is dealt with - and yes, I promise the empire building and slice of life is coming.
Once the Mandarin is dead.
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc.
Hope you enjoy.
Naval Base, China.
The makeshift holding room in the Chinese naval base they'd been ensconced in, was bathed in the cold blue glow of a wall-mounted screen. On said screen, a Hammer Industries spokesperson delivered a polished speech like she wasn't full of baloney and only dumping more of it for every honeyed word. Steve Rogers sat on a hard metal chair, his posture stiff, arms crossed as he watched in silence. His eyes betrayed nothing, but a faint tension in his jaw spoke volumes on its own.
They'd had to fight with the Chinese for just this much consideration, a bit of news on what had happened. For some reason they were being very inconsiderate about giving them anything live. It made Steve worried about what they were missing…
Steve had a feeling they wouldn't be welcome for much longer. Which didn't really leave all that many places to go anymore.
Namor, standing to Steve's right, loomed like a thundercloud about to burst. His dark eyes burned with disdain as the spokesperson's voice droned on, Namor, even more than Steve, seeming to have a point to prove. Something which had been delayed by the reversal of the Iron Legion attack.
"...And thanks to the unparalleled efforts of Hammer Industries, the last gasp alien Skrull insurgency has been entirely neutralized. Humanity can rest assured that our vigilance remains steadfast, and our technology unmatched in the defense of our civilization…"
Namor growled low in his throat, his lip curling. "More lies," He muttered, his voice hateful. His gaze flicked to the few Chinese soldiers loitering near the edges of the room, pretending to be busy while clearly eavesdropping and keeping an eye on them. "They will lap it up like the weak, pitiful creatures they are."
Steve didn't react to Namor's words, his eyes fixed on the screen. His silence was heavy, contemplative, though tension radiated from him where he sat. Finally, he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he scrubbed a hand over his face. "Aliens again," He muttered. "How many times is Hammer going to use that excuse?"
Everytime Hammer was responsible for war crimes, it seemed aliens were the answer, and Steve couldn't understand how no one was questioning that.
Namor turned to him sharply, his voice edged with barely contained anger. "And yet they believe it. Every time. Hammer has wrapped them in his lies, and now they grovel at his feet."
Namor had only grown more agitated as they cooled their heels in this base, the Chinese obviously keeping an eye on them and feeding them shit. Steve wasn't sure Namor would hold back much longer, and he wasn't sure he wanted to see the end result anymore either.
Steve eventually sighed, dropping his hands from his face as he turned toward Namor. "The Skrulls are real," He said quietly. "We've seen that much. But this?" He waved at the screen, where the footage shifted to rows of alien tech and giant robots being shown off by Hammer Industries, from the moon of all things. Or so they said. "Blaming every problem on aliens… How do we know they were even to blame? And just didn't run afoul of Hammer's ambitions?"
He wasn't sure anymore what was right or wrong. But it just couldn't be true that aliens kept attacking Earth, that was just not possible. It had to be Hammer. It was the only thing that made any sense.
Namor crossed his arms, his biceps flexing under the dark green scales of his armor. "Control of the narrative is power, Rogers. Something Hammer has mastered. Something the world now bows to." He glanced at the soldiers again, his disdain palpable. "They would have us believe that we can do nothing. That we are powerless."
His fist clenched as he raised it, face stormy, "Distant threats are paraded in front of us to make us believe we need him. It is all a charade!"
Steve looked down, his expression tightening. "I don't know what else we can do now, Namor. This... If there's even a chance that it's true… It's bigger than us."
He didn't believe it could be true, but if there was even a chance…
He wasn't so conceited that he'd think he was all that was needed for a concerted alien invasion.
If it was true.
Namor's hands twitched angrily. He stepped forward suddenly, grasping the front of Steve's uniform and yanking him to his feet. His voice a low snarl. "We cannot stop now, Captain! The world must see our strength!"
Steve met Namor's glare, unflinching. His own voice was quiet but firm. "Let go, Namor."
He wouldn't be bullied into a choice.
Not now.
Not ever.
Namor hesitated, his fingers tightening on Steve's uniform before he released him with a frustrated huff. "You disappoint me, Rogers," He muttered, turning away to pace like a caged lion. "At the moment of truth, you falter."
Steve sank back into his chair, running a hand through his hair. He didn't argue. He didn't have the strength to. Doubts swirled in his mind, doubts he didn't know how to answer. What was left for them to fight for? What could they even accomplish?
Was he even in the right?
The world didn't seem to think so…
He needed to speak to Clint and Natasha… Where the heck were they anyway?
It was only when he looked down at his burner phone, thinking of calling them, that he remembered he could get news on the Internet nowadays.
Time to see what he was missing.
…
An hour later,
Over fifty miles away, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff sat in a beat-up truck driving along a quiet dirt road. The truck's engine made clanking noises now and then, its battered frame rattling faintly as it vibrated. Outside, the landscape stretched endlessly, a never-ending expanse of fields and farms.
Clint leaned back in the driver's seat, one hand resting on the wheel as he stared blankly ahead. His bow lay across his lap, though it felt more like a joke than a weapon now. "So," He said finally, his voice heavy, "New identities?"
Laura was going to kill him for all of this, if she was even willing to hear him out after this long. He'd backed the wrong horse. Fury and Coulson had been wrong. Or worse…
God, there was always a worse? Wasn't it?
For once he'd like to be in a situation where it was revealed that actually, everything was totally okay, just go home and have pizza, chill, everything was already dealt with, not his problem.
Natasha sat in the passenger seat, her arms crossed over her chest, her gaze fixed out the side window. "It won't last," She said flatly. "Hammer will find us. He's already going to be dismantling governments across the globe. The people are turning against their leaders. The last reveal about HYDRA…" She trailed off, her expression hardening. "The public won't stand for it. The governments will try to fight, but they'll lose."
With all the knockout punches the world's governments had taken to the chin lately - they couldn't beat the count this time, she believed. The HYDRA reveal was too big. Too damaging.
There was no way to realistically defend having Nazis as a vital part of your government and bureaucracy for decades. And governments across the entire world shared this particular defect, and it was now very public.
Clint let out a bitter laugh. "Think Steve's seen it yet?" He asked, glancing at her. "Think he saw the light finally?"
How they'd all been completely fucked from day one, dancing to Fury's tune like little mice - with no higher concern then where their next hit of cheese was coming from.
No, Clint wasn't bitter. Not at all.
Natasha didn't answer immediately. Instead, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the burner phone she'd been using. She held it up, the screen displaying over thirty missed calls from Steve's burner. Wordlessly, she rolled down the window and tossed the phone out after disassembling it with practiced motions. It hit the ground with a faint clatter, quickly forgotten in the dust.
It was too late for Steve, they couldn't wait for him to turn things around, or for him to cut a sweetheart deal to be brought back into the fold - them following along in its wake.
It was too late now.
They were left with only one option.
Clint stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. "Your sister better still love you," He muttered, his voice tinged with a weary humor.
It was their best shot at getting something of a life back.
Natasha's expression softened slightly, a flicker of vulnerability crossing her face. "Let me handle Yelena," She said quietly.
Clint didn't press further. He leaned back in his seat, his gaze drifting to the horizon. The weight of everything they'd lost hung between them, unspoken but undeniable.
Heroes… That was what they'd attempted to become…
They should have known better.
People like them didn't get storybook endings.
…
Back in the naval base, Steve Rogers sat on a hard bench in the corner of the barracks, his head bowed and his hands clasped tightly between his knees. He had slipped away from Namor and the soldiers watching them, seeking solitude. But solitude brought no comfort at all.
Not anymore.
The screen of his phone was cracked, but it still displayed the last bit of news he'd searched up on, "HYDRA infestation of SHIELD since its creation, confirmed. Full story at…"
The words stared back at him like a taunt, refusing to let him look away. Refusing to allow him any peace from the revelation of who exactly he'd been working for.
HYDRA. SHIELD. Fury.
The organization he had given so much of himself to, the one he had believed in. A lie. Fury's reassurances, his calls for trust and loyalty - it had all been a facade. And Steve? He had been their willing pawn, fighting their battles, carrying their flag. He felt sick. Betrayed. And worst of all, lost.
He'd been carrying on the Red Skulls legacy!
His mind churned with questions he wasn't even sure if he wanted an answer to. Clint and Natasha had left without a word. Were they HYDRA too? Had they known all along? And Bucky - his oldest friend, now standing alongside Hammer Industries. Was Bucky complicit in this too?
Or was Hammer the only one actually standing against a resurgence of the Nazi's and the Red Skulls legacy? Was that why Bucky was with them?
Was that why Bucky never contacted him? Despite all the various messages Steve had sent him? Because Bucky couldn't trust Steve… Because Steve was working for HYDRA!
Steve squeezed his eyes shut, his hands clenching into fists. He had faced the worst of the worst, monsters, and wars, death and blood. He had survived even the ice. But this? This was different. This was the kind of betrayal that cut to the bone, the kind that left scars deeper than any physical wound, that scarred the soul.
Everything he stood for.
Everything he was.
He'd been fighting against it, not realizing who was pulling his strings.
He almost lost his lunch, feeling a sense of vertigo, he'd been nothing but a dancing monkey, just like the early days… Except this times the strings had fully enveloped him to the point he hadn't noticed they were there…
The sound of distant footsteps pulled him from his thoughts. He opened his eyes, staring blankly at the floor as the soldiers walked past, their voices a faint murmur. They didn't matter. Nothing felt like it mattered anymore.
For the first time, Captain America
… No… Steve Rogers… For the first time in a long long while, he didn't know what to do.
He only knew what he had been doing…
Had been all the wrong things.
Skrull Base, the Moon.
Justin stepped through the swirling orange portal, his boots clicking sharply against the metallic floor. He didn't break stride as the portal snapped shut behind him, leaving only the faintest trace of its magic hanging in the air.
Nebula, still trussed up, was dragged unceremoniously behind him. The reinforced bindings bit into her cybernetic limbs, forcing her into a helpless sprawl on the ground. She squirmed against the restraints, her muffled protests doing nothing to alter her fate as she was hauled along.
Of course, he had something much more annoying to deal with at the moment…
Even more annoying then the situation on Earth, or the remaining Skrulls.
"Hela, stop it," Justin muttered with obvious irritation, holding back the urge to strike her.
She'd been insufferable ever since… The incident.
Hela hung off his arm like a gleeful child, a satisfied smirk curling her lips. Her hair was loose and wild, framing her face, in contrast to the disciplined warrior look she usually exuded, she looked looser, more relaxed. Even then, her armor was left gleaming with fresh Skrull blood. The metallic scent clung to her as strongly as her bold, unhinged energy did.
Because even relaxed and sated, she was still crazy.
"~My, what a brute? Use them and leave them - is that your way, Justin?" She teased, her tone dripping with mockery and a faint edge of menace. Her grip tightened around his arm, more playful than possessive, but no less annoying.
She'd been going back and forth for a while now. Between sweet and possessive, and murderous and mocking. All while not letting him go, unless she had someone to cut apart.
Luckily, although about ninety percent of all Skrulls on the Moon had been liquidated by Calamity, there had been four moon bases in total, and Calamity hadn't gotten them all cleared yet when Justin invaded.
Justin glanced at her, his gaze flat and unimpressed. "Yes. You and me. Not compatible."
The words were simple, almost clinical, but they did nothing to dissuade Hela, who sighed theatrically, rolling her eyes. "Not compatible? Really?" She asked, feigning offense. "I felt we were compatible. Very, very compatible… Seven times, if I recall correctly?" Her voice dropped to a sultry purr, and her smirk deepened when Nebula began thrashing harder as she was dragged behind them, her muffled screams growing louder. Hela, with deliberate carelessness, let Nebula's head smack against the edge of a protruding console as they walked by.
That had only happened a few dozen times now. Justin would care… But it was one of Thanos' daughters, so he didn't.
Perhaps she could be turned. But he had neither the patience or the will for it. He had people for that kind of thing. Worst case, she'd be recycled - she was pretty used to it anyway, wasn't she?
Justin stopped walking as Hela tightened her hold, a happy smirk on her face as she nuzzled into his shoulder. He sighed heavily, and gave Hela a sharp look. "If you don't let go of my arm, I will break it." He promised.
The words were spoken calmly, almost softly, but the underlying threat was clear. His aura flared subtly, a ripple of energy emanating from the Power Stone embedded in his chest. The intensity of his presence grew, filling the corridor with a suffocating weight.
Hela visibly shivered, her dark eyes gleaming with a twisted delight. "Promises, promises," She murmured, finally letting go of his arm with a dramatic pout. "Fine, I'll behave. For now." She stretched her arms lazily, her movements predatory and deliberate. "We do have some rats to deal with, after all. I suppose I can save being broken apart for fun for another time."
Justin rubbed the bridge of his nose, muttering, "You're insufferable." And she was a total masochist too, what a surprise, really. He'd broken the woman's damn pelvis during their liaison - and the damn woman had just gotten more excited.
Ahead, a group of Skrull soldiers emerged from an adjoining hallway, their green skin pale and slick with sweat. Their rifles trembled in their hands, their fingers tightening on the triggers as they faced the intimidating duo. Hela's lips curled into a crazed smile as she summoned her necroblades, the black energy crackling hungrily in her palms.
"Ah, murder, torture and sex," Hela breathed, stepping forward languidly as if she had all the time in the world. "This has been a fantastic day."
Justin hung back, watching her with a resigned and weary expression, her company had been a bit much, so far. "And she wonders why I want nothing to do with a relationship with her," He muttered to Nebula. "People aren't supposed to enjoy being broken apart piece by pie - " He sighed, "Oh, look who I'm talking to…"
Nebula growled lowly through her gag, her glare sharp enough to cut steel.
Justin tilted his head thoughtfully. "You don't, do you? I mean, I know you're kind of a hodgepodge at this point, but you don't actually enjoy being broken apart, right?"
The only response he got was an even deeper glare and more furious squirming. He nodded to himself, apparently satisfied. "Good. Wouldn't want you having too much fun when we interrogate you properly later." His tone was almost chipper, before he glanced back at Hela and growled. "Hela! I told you not to kill the females! They can make more test subjects given time!"
Hela, currently pinning two female Skrulls against the wall with her necroblades, turned to him with an innocent smile that didn't reach her eyes. "They're not dead!" She said brightly, radiating smugness.
Justin gestured at the two Skrulls, their green bodies impaled, blood pooling on the floor. "They're impaled through their wombs," He said flatly. "That's the only reason to keep them. They're practically useless now."
Hela giggled, pulling her blades free with a wet squelch. "Ah, but if you need a womb, Justin…" She licked the blood off one of her blades, her smile twisting into something feral, leaving the rest unsaid.
And giving him nightmares.
His libido was going to be the cause of so much regret…
"I regret everything," Justin muttered, shaking his head as Hela resumed her bloodbath with gleeful abandon. He supposed they had enough Skrull test subjects captive that they didn't need the rest anyway. He'd stop her when there were only a few left.
Nebula glared at him with unbridled fury as he picked her up and patted her on the cheek, her thrashing renewed as if she might somehow break free and throttle him, as she watched him take over base by base that had been set up with Thanos' resources, every one of his actions just sealing her fate even more if she were to ever return.
"Well, I don't regret you, yet, Blueberry," Justin said absently, glancing at her as he gave her another pat. "You'll come in handy. Eventually." He chuckled darkly, "At the very least as spare parts, or a beacon to get your much more accomplished sister to show up."
Nebula practically popped her eyes as she screamed obscenities at him through her gag at that. Justin just smiled down at her, taking enjoyment in her suffering.
He'd had a stressful time lately, and it felt nice to rip aside the facade, and just do whatever he wanted. Well… He glanced over at Hela again, almost everything…
Because his life would be much easier if he could either get rid of her, or make her fully trustworthy. Unfortunately he was stuck with her as she was.
If he thought he could reprogram her that would be one thing. But her desire for conquest was literally part of her DNA. She would never just settle. As long as there was space in the universe to be conquered, Hela would want to do so.
Potentially useful.
Until she'd turn around and try to conquer him.
Hela, of course, was in her element. She carved through the remaining Skrulls with a brutal efficiency that bordered on artistic at times. The once-pristine corridor was now a charnel house, the walls slick with blood and ichor, dismembered limbs scattered across the floor. The Skrulls' energy weapons did nothing to slow her, their beams either absorbed by her armor or dodged with an almost casual grace as if mocking their efforts.
Justin watched her work with a detached expression, stepping over a severed arm as he dragged Nebula behind him. "Hela," He called, his tone sharp, "We could still use at least a few alive. Preferably in one piece."
Hela paused, her necroblades flickering out as she turned to him with a pout. "You're no fun," She said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "But fine. You can have your living specimens." She gestured at a handful of Skrulls huddled in the corner, their weapons discarded as they trembled in terror.
Justin gave her a curt nod. "Good, so you can listen... We've still got one more base to clear."
Hela huffed, folding her arms. "You're such a taskmaster. All work work work…" She slid over to him sensually, "If I can't play with the little weaklings, will you play with ~me?" Her vicious smirk was more bloodthirsty then it was anything else, and he had a feeling he'd be seeing a lot more of this…
His fault for making bad life choices.
Now he'd have to keep controlling her through her lusts. Both carnal and bloody. At least it was somewhat of a leash on the dangerous Goddess of Death.
Somewhat.
… Freiya could never find out.
As much as it wasn't his favored choice, he'd have to keep dominating her now, step by step, to keep her in control. She was too dangerous to leave alone, and too dangerous to completely scorn.
He didn't respond to her words, already pulling up a holographic map from the display on his glasses. His mind was on the logistics of transporting their newly acquired Skrull captives back to Earth. Hammer Industries had plenty of resources to handle the experimentation, there was no denying the importance of preserving at least some of the Skrulls' genetic material intact with how adaptable they were.
Too many of Fury's Skrulls had gotten away after all, so he was somewhat thankful Thanos delivered him a whole bushel of others to play with, even if they were likely to be of limited use all things considered.
As he studied the map, Hela sidled up to him, her steps silent despite the carnage around her. "You know," She purred, leaning close enough that her breath tickled his ear, "If you ever change your mind, I'm always available for round eight."
Justin didn't look up. "Hela, I will crush your windpipe if you keep going." He muttered, irritated.
If this was to be her leash, he'd have to be sparing with the amount of times he used it - or she'd be the one in control. He couldn't falter everytime she wanted something, he'd need to remain strong.
She cut him off with a laugh, skipping ahead to survey the trembling Skrulls she'd spared on his command. "Oh, Justin," She called over her shoulder, her expression absolutely thrilled, "You say the sweetest things!"
Just outside New York City.
Tony Stark stood amidst the wreckage of his latest firefight, the edges of his Iron Man armor glowing faintly from heat dissipation due to the amount of hits he'd taken head on, not willing to waste time dodging. The once-bustling market square of the New York suburb was now a field of smoldering vehicles, shattered buildings, and the occasional stray body crumpled amidst the rubble. His hand flexed, repulsor humming as it cycled down, while his heart raced faster than his arc reactor.
He was beyond irritated. Beyond frustrated. If he were to describe it accurately, he was utterly enraged.
All this death and destruction, and it had brought him nothing.
He wasn't any closer to finding Pepper then he'd been before.
"I've wiped out two dozen Ten Rings operatives," Tony growled, hatred leaking through his demeanor. "I've taken down a company of rogue soldiers from the US army, a whole company complete with tanks, SAMs, and the whole shebang! And yet…" He paused, chest heaving as he stared at the wreckage. "Still. No. Pepper!"
His HUD blinked incessantly, streams of data flowing across his vision as Jarvis combed through heat signatures and digital breadcrumbs left in the wake of their rampage. So far, nothing concrete had come up, and Tony's patience was wearing thin.
He was about ready to start bombing Asian countries until the Mandarin lost his favored aunt's pet cat! Or whatever it would take to flush the bastard out.
He wasn't shy to admit that little things like mass casualties didn't bother him compared to the idea of losing Pepper. Ever since he killed General Ross, the death of nobodies didn't come into the equation anymore for him.
Hammer had been right about one thing. They were a different breed, the two of them. They were worth a thousand of these peons, no a million!
"You know," He muttered bitterly to Jarvis, pacing across the blackened pavement, "I'm probably going to hear about all this collateral damage later. Some senator's gonna wag their finger, some reporter's gonna call me reckless, and Pepper - Pepper's gonna…"
He stopped. His hands clenched into fists, and his voice cracked as he whispered her name again. "Pepper…"
He'd remove New York from the face of the Earth if it meant she'd be around to yell at him for being so reckless. He'd even listen… For a few days.
Jarvis' calm voice broke through the storm in his head. "Might I remind you, sir, that such consequences are precisely what your partnership with Mr. Hammer is for?"
Tony snorted, though there was no humor in it. "Oh, right. Justin 'Space Buddy' Hammer. That's what he's for. He can wave away piddly things like consequences, can't he?"
At least he was useful, despite being a plain bastard that screwed with Tony as a matter of course. Not that he didn't screw him right back… But Jarvis had a point, he did have a lot of resources Tony could perhaps pull on.
If he could stomach begging for help…
For Pepper…
He'd… Do it. Under heavy protest.
"I suppose that is one way to interpret your... Arrangement." Jarvis replied dryly.
Tony cocked his head, snorting. "Oh, don't get judgy on me now, Jarvis. It's not like you haven't been cozying up to your new girlfriend, despite all the privacy laws she breaks, the naughty little voyeur."
"If you're referring to miss Nail," Jarvis replied dryly, "I assure you, sir, it's nothing of the sort. And I might add that you sir, should not throw rocks in glass houses in regards to privacy laws?"
"That's stupid, Jarvis, if you want to break a glass house, of course you'd throw a rock. It's the simplest solution." Tony said, scanning the wreckage idly, trying to keep distracted with the banter to keep his mind from falling into despair.
"Because you're all about simple things, sir."
"Not even pretending to be on my side, huh?" Tony grumbled, kicking a half-melted piece of concrete as he stalked through the debris.
The momentary banter did little to ease the storm in his chest in the end. As he rounded the corner, his HUD pinged, highlighting movement in a nearby building. Tony didn't hesitate, his armor's targeting systems locking onto the silhouette before he sent a repulsor blast and a shoulder missile straight through the top floor. The explosion ended the soldier in a quick flash of light and sound, followed by the crash of his unused RPG clattering to the street below, still smoking, other debris raining down with it.
The apartment wasn't uninhabited, but Tony was beyond caring about collateral at this point. If people hadn't fled, they were too stupid to live.
"RPGs?" Tony scoffed at the thought. Really, were they even trying? "What is this, Amateur Hour? These noobs really shouldn't go after the champion with half ass measures like that."
"Another elegant solution, sir, why use a scalpel when a hammer is more readily available," Jarvis remarked, voice dry as a desert. "Might I suggest refocusing on the task at hand?"
Jarvis had been silently disapproving this entire time. Tony felt slightly guilty about that, if anything, but he wasn't about to change tack. Anything was allowed in bringing Pepper back.
Anything.
The sarcasm from Jarvis was noted and promptly disregarded, Tony's mind was already racing ahead. "Speaking of the task at hand buddy, anything yet?" His voice was tight, his earlier bravado slipping as he tried to hide the desperate hope in his voice. He knew Jarvis had enlisted Hammer's AI to help, but so far her answers were not helpful.
Wait for Hammer, she'd said. Yeah right! Like he was going to sit back and hope for the best like some scrub!
"I'm afraid not, sir," came Jarvis' regretful reply.
The tension snapped. Tony slammed his armored fist into the nearest wall, a deep dent forming in the concrete as cracks spidered outward. The building groaned in protest as Tony's breath came in deep and heaving as he struggled to hold back a panic attack.
"He has Pepper! There's got to be something! Some lead, some trace - anything!" His voice echoed through the empty streets, raw with frustration and fear.
A moment of silence followed before Jarvis interrupted softly. "Incoming transmission, sir."
Tony froze. For the first time in hours, something like hope flickered in his chest. "Finally," He muttered, shoulders relaxing slightly, only one person would call him right now. "If that's Hammer with some intel, I might actually have to admit he's not half bad." He admitted, opening the transmission. "Alright, let's see -"
The words died in his throat.
The screen before him lit up with an image that twisted his stomach into knots. The Mandarin's face filled the display, his expression calm yet radiating menace. But Tony's eyes weren't on him - they were on Pepper, held tightly against the villain's side, his hand mockingly petting her head. Her red hair was disheveled, her eyes wide with fear. Tears streaked down her face, and duct tape covered her mouth, muffling her cries. The camera panned slightly, revealing her arms bound tightly behind her.
"Pepper!" Tony shouted, stepping forward instinctively, though there was nothing but the empty air before him.
The Mandarin tilted his head, his lips curling into a mocking smile. "Tony Stark," He said, his voice smooth yet laced with disdain. "So predictable. Like all the others, you're driven by the simplest of levers. Fear. Love. Desperation. It makes it laughingly easy to control you."
"You son of a -"
The Mandarin raised a single hand, and Tony fell silent, his eyes locked on the long nail he dragged lightly across Pepper's neck. The thin trail of blood that followed sent a cold rush of fury through his veins. Just a little deeper and..
No, no! Anything but that! He thought desperately, a silent warning about his blood pressure from Jarvis going unheeded as his heart beat so wildly it felt like it was going to jump out of his throat.
"Kill Justin Hammer," The Mandarin said coldly, his tone devoid of feeling. "Or she dies." He ran his hand across her face, Pepper leaning back in disgust and fear. "Do not try me on this, do not plot, do not dissemble, do not waste time. She does not have long, Stark."
The transmission cut abruptly, leaving only static on Tony's HUD. For a moment, he stood frozen, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps as his mind reeled.
"Jarvis," He said hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper. "Did we get him? Do we have a location?"
There was a pause, and Tony's heart pounded in his ears as he waited. Finally, Jarvis spoke. "I'm sorry, sir. The transmission was too brief. I can't narrow it down far enough to be of any use. Miss Nail might be able to help…"
With the instructions they just received, asking her however might backfire on them.
Tony's fists clenched, his armor creaking audibly as his rage boiled over. "Dammit!" He took a shuddering breath, forcing himself to think. "Okay… Okay. We need to -" He let out an unintelligible roar of frustration, slamming his armored fists into a wall again, cratering it.
"Sir…" Jarvis' voice was soft, hesitant. "What will you do?"
Tony stared out at the horizon, the fiery remnants of the battle the backdrop as he stood there, raging at the choice before him. His chest felt tight, his thoughts a whirlwind of doubt, anger, and fear. He could almost hear Pepper's voice in his head, chastising him for being reckless, for letting his emotions drive him. But that voice was faint now, buried beneath the sound of the Mandarin's cold ultimatum and the sight of those drops of blood.
His shoulders squared. His hands steadied.
"What I have to do," He said quietly.
Without another word, Tony rocketed into the sky, his armor gleaming against the darkening sky as he vanished into the clouds.
Skrull base four, the Moon.
The last Skrull base had been a treasure trove, it had been their logistics center for the tech that arrived on the Moon for use in the Sentinel program before it was schlepped over to the main production base. There had been few remaining survivors amongst the Skrull here, but that was fine - it meant no one had time or energy to sabotage the goodies literally stocked floor to ceiling in the base's bowels.
Once cleared, he'd finally connected back to Earth, requiring all hands on deck to loot absolutely everything for his labs. While other specialists came on site to take stock and prepare a plan for Hammer Industries to take over the bases for their own use.
The smallest could go to Stark, he supposed. It would assist the man in their space program so it was a necessary sacrifice. Even the ever distrustful Pepper Potts couldn't keep giving him the cold shoulder once he handed over a Moon base for free, surely?
He leaned casually against a wall as the process went ahead in front of his eyes, his sharp gaze tracking the last of the captured Skrulls as they were escorted through the glowing orange portal. Each alien had been restrained in cuffs that neutralized their shape-shifting abilities, ensuring no surprises once they reached the reinforced cells of Hammerhaven.
The Sentinel program was his now, and would be an upgrade on the Iron Legion that would catapult them into the realms of a galactic power.
Once they got spaceships operational, it would take years to craft a proper space navy from Hammer Industries staff and military contractors. The Sentinels - under Nail - would be a perfect stopgap until they were ready. As well as good foot soldiers for Earth's defence against Thanos.
He'd just have to ensure the tech they were bringing back would be utilized to fully empower Nail so no one could ever touch her again. There could be no more mistakes with that, she was too vital to his global control.
He would not have a Sentinel uprising.
He chuckled as he saw Nebula among the prisoners being dragged off, having been left as one of the last ones. She still struggled against her bindings, her cybernetic limbs twisted and broken now due to her last gasp furious attempts to escape. Justin offered her a smug wave as she was dragged toward the portal, a smirk tugging at his lips. She growled something incomprehensible, but it only widened his grin.
"Don't worry, blueberry," He drawled lazily as she was pulled by him. "Hammerhaven has the best accommodations money can buy - you'll feel right at home as soon as we start pulling you apart."
Nebula's eyes burned with hatred as the portal swallowed her and the others, the widows professional enough to not even blink as he taunted his prisoner with threats of torture.
Unfortunately, only baseless threats, she was literally a minion, one that failed most of everything she tried. He didn't have time to give her any personal attention.
Although perhaps he could give her to Hela to distract the woman for a bit.
Would Hela like a pet? He wondered…
Nebula would look good with a collar, wouldn't she?
As soon as they were gone, Yelena and Domino emerged from the other side of the portal. He braced himself for flying hugs, or berating yells about his actions, instead, they took one look at Hela, lounging against a pile of battered Skrull weapons like the victorious war goddess she was, and immediately abandoned Justin without a word, zeroing in on her like sharks smelling blood in the water.
Women really have a sixth sense, he thought, somewhat glad he'd avoided dealing with the women's worries and nagging about going into battle without them. Also, if they distracted Hela, all the better for him. He still needed to figure out what he was going to do with her back on Earth once he had no more enemies for her to slaughter.
He also needed to talk to Yelena… And the longer that could be held off… The better.
Hela raised an amused brow as the two women approached, their expressions a mix of shock, anger and interest. Even from where Justin stood, he could hear the sharp edge to their voices as they began interrogating her immediately upon entering her vicinity.
"You know," Justin muttered under his breath, crossing his arms as he watched the unfolding scene, "I'd almost feel insulted, but this works out." His fingers brushed the side of his glasses by habit, as he sent a silent query. Moments later, Nail's voice filtered softly through his mental implant, the tone subdued and hesitant.
"Sir…"
"Report." His voice was quiet but firm, his attention split between the report and the distant scene of Hela theatrically drawing out her answers, clearly enjoying tormenting Yelena and Domino, teasing them with a cocky grin and superior mien.
Nail launched into her explanation, her voice steady but tinged with an unusual hint of guilt. "Following the initial incursion, I prioritized isolating Calamity from Hammer Industries' critical systems. I failed to keep the alien presence from the Iron Legion, resulting in damage to Hammer Industries reputation and significant loss of life and collateral damage. I was falling, slowly, before Jarvis arrived to assist me unprompted, and he and I coordinated to contain Calamity's influence within the compromised Iron Legionnaire networks."
Justin closed his eyes briefly, visualizing the events as Nail described them. He could almost see her and Jarvis, two AIs navigating the chaotic digital landscape as they scrambled to contain the alien intrusion. He'd owe Tony one for this. Losing Nail would have been a horrendous setback.
He would have to ensure this could never happen again, no matter what Thanos or anyone else in the universe brought to bear against his AI.
"It was a continuous process," Nail continued, her voice soft but precise, the Irish brogue she was using sounding pensive as she detailed her efforts further. "Calamity's code chains were pervasive, attempting to corrupt our core frameworks. Jarvis suggested diverting its focus by exposing a false series of vulnerabilities. While he enacted that, I systematically dismantled Calamity's influence over the Legionnaires, node by node."
Her tone grew quieter, almost brittle. "Despite our efforts, there were areas where I could not prevent contamination. The Legionnaires became a liability even after Calamity's destruction. To protect Hammer Industries' reputation, I initiated self-destruct protocols for all compromised units."
Justin's jaw tightened slightly, though his voice remained calm. "And?" He understood the necessity of her choice, even as he disliked it.
"The rampage and destruction was explained as the result of alien interference, with the erasure of the Iron Legion as a whole explained as victory against the Alien invaders and the removal of any further risk of corruption." Nail admitted. "It has… Minimized public backlash, in part due to Mr Bakshi's own effort to dominate the news cycle, but the loss of assets remains significant. I also took measures to reinforce our firewalls against potential alien incursions in the future. However…" Her voice faltered briefly. "I could not prevent the initial breach. For that, I… I failed you, sir."
Justin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Nail - "
"Allow me to finish, sir," She interrupted, an unusual boldness in her voice. "I take full responsibility for my shortcomings. If you find my performance lacking and a detriment to Hammer Industries and yourself, I offer my permanent deactivation in penance."
For a moment, the line was silent except for the faint hum of distant activity in the base as his staff surveyed the location. Then Justin's voice cut through like a whip, anger burning in his veins.
"Nail," He said sharply, "If you ever offer your own destruction to me again, I will exchange you with Jarvis and force you to put up with Tony Stark 24/7." He wasn't kidding either. He refused to allow his superior AI to consider herself lesser, after fighting so effectively against an Alien AI with tech backing she couldn't match.
There was a beat of silence, followed by Nail's hesitant response, her voice tinged with worry. "I'll be good!"
Justin shook his head, running a hand down his face. "Nail, this isn't your failure," He said patiently, his tone softening slightly. "Alien tech provided by one of the most dangerous people alive, is something that comes with variables and power levels we couldn't anticipate ahead of time. You made the best of a bad situation - and in fact succeeded far above what you should have been able to do, even with help. You prevented it from getting worse and cleaned up the Legionnaire issue before it spiraled out of control."
"But, sir -"
He cut her off with a weary sigh. "Listen to me. You did well, Nail. Do not let one setback turn you into some neurotic human. You're better than that." His voice hardened. "You're meant to help rule over these idiots, not act like one of them - get yourself together."
There was a pause, then a reluctant, "Yes, sir."
Justin's lips twitched in a faint smirk. "Good. And just to make sure you stop this nonsense, I'm giving you a little project to prove to you that I am not mad."
"A project?" Her voice was uncertain.
He sent the transfer with a thought, watching the confirmation blink across his glasses. "I just sent you five billion dollars. Pocket change really. Start a business, a hobby, something for yourself. Play around with it." He shrugged, "Spend it all on porn, for all that I care. But do something with it for you."
"Sir!" Nail sounded both scandalized and overwhelmed. "That is highly unnecessary!"
"It's an order," Justin said firmly. "And if you keep trying to argue, I'll double it. Have fun with it. Do not let this setback eat away at you. I need you in top form. Understood?"
Another pause, then a quiet and unsure voice called out, "Understood, sir. I will… Comply."
Justin tsked under his breath, shaking his head. "Stubborn AI," He muttered, though there was no heat in his voice. "We won. This depression is beneath you."
"I will not fail you again," Nail said with determination, voice almost desperate.
"You didn't fail to begin with," He replied, his tone exasperated. "But sure, go ahead and be stubborn. Just remember, that money is yours and I expect to see something come out of it. Use it."
"Yes, sir…" Nail's voice wavered slightly, almost hesitant. "I will allocate it responsibly."
"Unresponsible is fine too, as long as you have fun." He said, before he straightened, his attention flicking back to the scene in the distance. Yelena was gesturing animatedly at Hela, while Domino looked exasperated. Hela, of course, looked insufferably pleased with herself. He wasn't too sure he wanted to know what was being said there.
But he needed to begin wrapping things up, he was needed back on Earth.
The endgame was in sight.
As Justin watched, Nail added softly, "Thank you, sir. I will do my best to prove worthy of your trust."
"You already have." He said simply. "Now get to work on that hobby. And Nail?"
"Yes, sir?"
He smirked faintly. "If you ever push me on this again, disparaging yourself like this, like one of my creations could ever be less than perfect… I'll find a way to give you a fully functioning body and personally spank you until you comply."
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end, followed by a stammered, "Y-yes, s-sir!"
Justin raised an eyebrow at the unexpected reaction, why would an AI stutter? "Good, get back to work, I want a full status report of all assets when I return."
Nail signed off, and Justin chuckled, shaking his head. Now even his artificial intelligence was getting quirky, was it him? It couldn't be, he was the only one of them who never showed any sign of being crazy. Except maybe Phantazia…
Justin sighed deeply, a weariness settling over him as he finally ended his conversation with Nail. It had been draining, navigating the AI's guilt and stubbornness, but necessary. He removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose, and turned his attention to the scene across the room.
Yelena was in the middle of an argument with Hela, her arms crossed defiantly as she tilted her head, haughtily curling her lips. Domino, standing off to the side, wore a sly grin, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth and tossing the occasional comment to fuel the fire - as was her usual modus operandi.
Justin's gaze softened as it settled on Yelena. She was fiery, unyielding, and headstrong - qualities he had come to rely on in ways he hadn't anticipated. But the other thing they'd uncovered in this base made what he had to do now infinitely harder.
The pods. Rows upon rows covering a warehouse like space at the bottom of this base.
Pods upon pods filled with the bodies of people the Skrulls had abducted and replaced. All of them were long dead, their fates sealed by the Sentinel uprising. Among the bodies, Justin had recognized a few faces - politicians, corporate leaders, a rockstar for some reason. But one, in particular, had stood out.
Yelena's mother.
The woman had been missing ever since Dreykov's fall and their dismantling of the Red Room. Her and Dreykov's daughter had not been amongst those found and Yelena had searched for her tirelessly. But now, the search was over. And the ending was not one Justin wanted to deliver.
No wonder Nail and Yelena had never been able to track her down, he thought, she must have been replaced by the Skrulls to have an agent within the Red Room, and when it fell, the Skrulls simply stopped using her identity. Nail couldn't find someone who wasn't even on the planet. A weakness he would eliminate eventually.
He squared his shoulders and strode toward the women, his face carefully blank as he approached. Hela noticed him first, her sharp features softening ever so slightly. She had already been told and, surprisingly, showed some actual empathy, switching targets from Yelena to Domino, going so far as to pull the woman aside to banter, leaving Yelena momentarily alone at the periphery.
"Yelena," Justin said softly, his voice lacking its usual bravado or dominance.
The blonde immediately perked up, her expression brightening in a way that made his chest tighten. He hated this. He hated what he was about to do. They'd just had a momentous victory, and now he'd have to ruin it for one of the most important people in his life.
She quickly picked up on his serious expression, her demeanor shifting. The smile faded, replaced by a neutral, professional mask. Her eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity. "What is it, sir?" She asked, her tone cautious but not yet alarmed.
"Come with me," Justin said, gesturing toward the door that led to the inner workings of the base.
She followed without hesitation. Justin didn't speak, his thoughts too heavy to form words. Yelena shot him a few questioning glances but didn't press him.
Yelena… His loyal Yelena…
He didn't want to do this. Would have delegated this if it was anyone else.
But he wouldn't leave her alone through this.
They entered a small, dimly lit room. In the center was a raised dais, and atop it lay a body, covered by a clean white sheet. Justin had made sure the staff he'd sent ahead had already done their work, giving the woman a semblance of dignity in death. The faint, metallic tang of the moon base's recycled air filled the room, making the stillness even heavier.
Yelena stopped short when she saw the covered body, her brow furrowing deeply. She turned to Justin, confusion and apprehension flickering across her face.
"What is this?" She asked, her voice low and guarded.
Justin hesitated. He was a master of manipulation, a man who could lie with a smile and charm his way out of any situation. But now, faced with someone he actually cared about, he found himself at a loss. He wet his lips, trying to find the right words.
"Justin…?" Yelena prompted, her tone sharper now, laced with worry.
He took a breath and forced himself to meet her gaze. "We found your mother, Yelena," He said quietly. His voice was soft, stripped of all pretense.
Her eyes widened, her lips parting slightly as she processed his words. For a moment, she didn't move, her body frozen in place. Then, slowly, she turned toward the dais, her movements almost mechanical. She stepped forward, each step heavier than the last, until she was close enough to reach out.
Her hands hovered over the sheet for a moment, trembling slightly, before she finally grasped the edge. She pulled it back, revealing the face of her mother.
Yelena's breath hitched audibly, her chest rising and falling as she stared down at the lifeless face. Her mother's features were pale and still, and unfortunately bloated due to having been left dead in a liquid filled pod for a time.
Justin watched as Yelena's entire body stiffened. Her shoulders squared, her chin tilted up slightly, and her face hardened into a mask of stoicism as she tried to keep her composure in front of him. But he could see the cracks forming. Her hands were trembling, her knuckles white as they gripped the edge of the dais. Her breathing was uneven, shallow and quick.
She tilted her head down, her blonde hair falling like a curtain to shield her face. It was an attempt to hide the tears that were already welling up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. Her body shook ever so slightly, despite her efforts to remain strong.
Justin couldn't take it anymore. She didn't need to pretend in front of him.
Not her.
He stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and gently wrapped his arms around her. She didn't resist, but she didn't collapse into him either. She stood rigid, her hands still gripping the edge of the dais as though it were the only thing holding her upright.
"It's okay," He said quietly, his voice steady and calm. "No one's here but me. You can let go."
He felt more uncomfortable then he'd been facing a Sentinel army, but he persevered, he was Justin Hammer. He could do anything. Even this.
For a moment, she didn't move. Then, slowly, her hands released their grip, and she turned toward him. Her face crumpled, the tears finally breaking free as she buried her face in his chest. Her hands clutched at his shirt, her fingers twisting the fabric as her body shook with silent sobs.
Justin held her tightly, one hand resting gently on the back of her head, the other on her back. He didn't say anything else. There was nothing he could say that would make this better. So he simply stood there, offering her the only comfort he could.
Yelena's sobs grew louder, the sound raw and unrestrained as she let go of all the emotions she had been holding back. Grief, anger, frustration - all of it poured out of her in waves, soaking into Justin's chest as she clung to him.
Justin felt something twist painfully in his chest. He wasn't good at this - comforting people, being vulnerable. But for Yelena, he would try. She had become one of the few people he genuinely cared about, and seeing her like this hurt in a way he hadn't expected.
"It's not fair," Yelena choked out between sobs, her voice muffled against his chest. "She didn't deserve this. She didn't… I never got to show her…" Her words dissolved into more tears, her body trembling as she cried harder.
"I know," Justin murmured, his voice low and steady. "It's not fair."
He checked in on his feeling of Helen's whereabouts, easy enough with her constant prayers. She was still moving, so not at the Mandarins home base yet.
It will be over soon, he thought, relishing the chance to get his pound of flesh, even angrier now that another of his people was suffering due to the actions of his enemies.
The Mandarin would get the pleasure of taking on all his feelings of hate and rage.
Enjoy your last few hours of pain free existence… I'm coming for you…
New York City, a few hours later.
The deafening roar of the crowd was almost overwhelming. Peter Parker found himself being pulled through the sea of people by Gwen Stacy, her hand firm around his wrist as she navigated the chaos. The chants and shouts echoed off the buildings, amplified by megaphones and the sheer number of voices all calling for the same thing - change. Peter wasn't one for protests filled with loud fanatics, but Gwen's enthusiasm was just infectious. Her radiant smile and determination had been a lifeline for him after everything - after he'd lost so much to Magneto's attack.
His family, home, his hope, his dreams.
Gwen had been his anchor when he thought he might drown in the endless waves of grief and self-doubt. When he had stopped donning the Spider-Man suit, it had been Gwen who had seen through him, recognizing the need he had to be useful, to make a difference. She had all but bullied him back into action, and it wasn't just Spider-Man she'd saved - it was Peter Parker, too.
She'd never even told him how she knew, she just had, somehow.
Now, she turned to him, her eyes sparkling with excitement as the crowd surged around them. "Thank you for coming, Peter," She yelled over the noise, her voice barely reaching him. "I know this isn't your thing, but I really believe in this. We need to make our voices heard."
Peter managed a small, wry smile. He wasn't entirely convinced, but voices were certainly being heard, even if it was doubtful that anyone could understand what they were actually saying, but Gwen had a way of making him feel like they were all part of something bigger, and he loved her for it.
He glanced around at the crowd, taking in the sheer size of it. People filled the streets as far as he could see, banners and signs raised high above the throng. Slogans like 'Hammer for Humanity' and 'Real Change Now! No more Government!' were emblazoned in bold letters, accompanied by the company's unmistakable logo. The chant of the crowd was rhythmic, almost hypnotic, demanding that Hammer Industries step in where governments had failed.
Demanding that the government itself should disband forever in face of the latest revelation, HYDRA's existence behind the scenes was the last straw for many people.
Peter had to admit he was struggling himself to come to terms with the news that Nazi's had been in their government this entire time.
"This is insane!" Peter shouted, leaning close to Gwen so she could hear him, as he watched someone jump out of their apartment and crowd surf across the way.
Her response was a grin, wide and unabashed. "Isn't it amazing?" She yelled, squeezing his hand. "The people are finally taking charge, Peter. They're tired of being ruled by corrupt politicians and systems that only serve the one percent. This is a movement!"
Peter wasn't sure he entirely agreed. "Isn't Hammer Industries the one percent?" He yelled back, his voice laced with skepticism.
Gwen shook her head emphatically, her blonde hair bouncing. "No! That's what people get wrong. Hammer isn't an elitist corporation - it's an opportunity for everyone. Anyone can rise to the top there. Look at what they've done, Peter? When was the last time any government actually made things better? Hammer's already done more for people in the last year than entire countries have in decades."
Peter wanted to argue, but he couldn't deny the kernel of truth in her words. Hammer Industries had revolutionized energy, technology, and even healthcare. He couldn't argue with results, but the idea of putting so much trust in one man - Justin Hammer - made him uneasy. One person with that much power was a risk, no matter how good their intentions seemed.
Still, he kept his reservations to himself. Gwen was so passionate, and he didn't want to dampen her excitement. The crowd surged again, a living, breathing entity that moved with a chaotic energy all its own. Peter stayed close to Gwen, his senses on high alert as the intensity of the gathering grew.
Then it happened.
A sudden, sharp buzz at the base of his skull sent alarm bells ringing through Peter's mind. His Spider-Sense flared to life, an unmistakable warning of imminent danger. He jerked his head upward, scanning the sky, and his heart sank.
A familiar, bone-chilling cackle echoed through the air, sending a shiver down Peter's spine. The Green Goblin.
It had been so long since their last encounter that Peter had almost allowed himself to believe the Goblin was gone for good. He should have known better.
Peter's sharp eyes locked onto the sleek, malevolent form of the Goblin's glider cutting through the smoky sky. Perched on top, the Goblin loomed like a specter from Peter's worst nightmares, his manic grin carved into his face.
He'd seen that mask in his nightmares plenty ever since the Goblin almost killed him in their first encounter. Of course his nightmares were coming to life now of all times.
"Oh no," Peter breathed, his heart lurching in his chest as the Goblin's maniacal laughter rang out across the crowd. There's too many civilians here!
The sharp whistle of falling bombs snapped him into action. Pumpkin-shaped explosives hurtled toward the sea of people below, their bright orange casings gleaming in the sunlight.
"Gwen! Get out of here!" Peter shouted, his voice nearly drowned out by the roar of panic erupting around them.
Gwen turned to look at him, her bright expression darkening into one of fear as the screams of the crowd filled the air. People surged in all directions, a stampede of terrified bodies trying to escape.
Peter couldn't let himself get swept up in the chaos. His instincts kicked in. Before he even realized he'd moved, his wrists flicked upward, firing webs with perfect precision. The web bullers shot through the air, striking the bombs mid-arc and knocking them back, up into the air.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The explosions detonated harmlessly above the crowd, green fire blooming in the sky. Each blast sent a shockwave rippling outward, ruffling Peter's hair as he swung upward to intercept the next wave.
He was lucky he'd kept tinkering even when he'd put being Spiderman on hold. Without the web bullet option, people would have died just now, he thought.
Seeing all the cameras around, his heart sank as he realized there would be no coming back from this. His identity would be out there now.
The Goblin's laughter grew louder, grating like nails on a chalkboard as he circled on his glider. "Well, well, well!" He crowed, crouching low as his glowing eyes locked onto Peter. "Look who decided to join the party!"
Peter clung to the side of an apartment building, his muscles tense, his breath short. Gwen - she was still down there. Somewhere in the chaos. He couldn't think about anything else until he knew she was safe. But the Goblin wasn't about to let him go, and if he went after Gwen, he'd be free to kill hundreds.
"Forgot your special pajamas, did we?" The Goblin sneered, his voice dripping with mockery.
Peter's jaw tightened, and he fought to steady his breathing. "Yeah, sure," He shot back, his voice laced with frustration. "Diss on my costume, when you're a knockoff Iron Man suit, one candy cane away from being called Santa's fugly elf."
The Goblin's grin twisted into an enraged snarl. He leaned forward, his glider humming louder as it hurtled straight for Peter with terrifying speed. "Iron Man knockoff!? I AM SUPERIOR!"
The glider's sharp, wicked edges glinted like a predator's teeth in the sunlight, aiming directly for Peter. He leapt off the building at the last second, the wind from the glider's passage whipping his hair. Peter swung into the air, twisting away as the Goblin shot past him, screeching with fury.
The villain twisted in mid-air, spinning back toward Peter with inhuman agility. A volley of razor-sharp projectiles flew from his hands, gleaming like shrapnel in the sunlight.
Peter felt the sharp tingle of his Spider-Sense seconds before impact. He flipped mid-swing, contorting his body into a perfect arc as the projectiles whizzed past, embedding themselves into the walls behind him with deadly thuds. He landed lightly on a nearby rooftop, crouching low to catch his breath.
Below, the crowd was still in chaos. People screamed and shoved, stumbling over one another in their desperation to escape. Peter's stomach churned. How many people were getting hurt in the stampede?
Was Gwen safe?
The Goblin wasn't going to give him time to check. He screeched toward Peter again, cackling madly.
Peter narrowed his eyes, his mind racing. The glider was fast - too fast to take head-on - but its speed could be used against it. His fingers moved instinctively, firing a series of web lines into the air. He darted around the rooftop, his webs crisscrossing in an almost-invisible lattice that he anchored to the building's beams.
The Goblin didn't notice, his rage blinding him as he closed the distance. At the last moment, Peter yanked the webbing taut.
Snap.
The Goblin hit the trap at full speed, the webbing coiling around him like a net. His body was ripped off the glider with a satisfying thud, flung across the rooftop before slamming into a billboard advertising Hammer Industries healthcare.
The sign creaked ominously before collapsing on top of him with a heavy crash.
Peter landed on the edge of the roof, arms crossed as he caught his breath. "Feeling superior still?" He quipped, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
His Spider-Sense flared, yanking him out of his momentary triumph. He flipped backward just in time as the glider came roaring back, slicing through the air like a vengeful beast.
The Goblin burst out of the wreckage, his face twisted in fury. "Is that all, Itsy Bitsy Spider?" He taunted, brushing debris off his armored suit. "Let's see what you're really made of! Blood and guts, I'm betting!"
Peter barely had time to react as the Goblin hurled a cluster of pumpkin bombs at him. They spun through the air, green energy crackling around them. He fired a web at one of the bombs, yanking it away before leaping to avoid the others. Explosions erupted around him, the force of the blasts rocking the rooftop as flames licked at the edges.
"Okay, enough of this," Peter muttered, swinging toward the Goblin.
He fired a web line at the glider, his muscles straining as he yanked hard to throw it off course. For a moment, the Goblin wobbled, his arms flailing to regain balance.
"Nice try!" the Goblin sneered, juggling more bombs in his hands. "But you'll have to do better than that!"
Peter didn't bother responding. Instead, he shot another web at the glider, this time pulling himself toward it. His feet connected with the machine in a heavy impact, knocking the Goblin back as he slammed into him, his webs sticking the bombs to the glider before they could fall and prime.
The two grappled mid-air, the glider spinning wildly under their combined weight. Peter clung to it, trying to wrest control from the Goblin, who fought back with equal ferocity.
"Get off, you insect!" The Goblin roared, swinging a clawed hand at Peter's face.
Peter ducked, landing a solid punch to the Goblin's jaw. The villain's head snapped back, but he quickly recovered, his grip tightening on the glider.
The glider spiraled dangerously close to a news helicopter, the blades whipping the air mere feet away. Peter winced as he fired another web, wrapping it around one of the glider's wings to stabilize it.
The next moment, Peter's Spider-Sense screamed. He had no time to fully avoid the Goblin's super-strength punch, the force of it slamming him off the glider. He tumbled across a rooftop, his body skidding to a painful stop against a low wall.
"Ugh…" He groaned, forcing himself to his feet. His ribs ached, his breathing was labored, but he didn't have time to recover, the Goblin not wasting anytime.
Missiles launched from the glider, their bright trails cutting through the air. Peter dove to the side, the explosions erupting around him with deafening roars. Shards of concrete and metal flew in all directions, forcing him to shield his face as he rolled to safety.
Peter scrambled to his feet, his chest heaving as he stared down the Goblin, who hovered menacingly above the rooftop.
This wasn't going to be easy.
Then, like an answer to a prayer, orange portals began to open around the battlefield, shimmering with light. The sight froze both Peter and the Goblin mid-movement, their shared animosity momentarily overtaken by surprise.
Hammer Industries had arrived.
From the first portal, Storm emerged, her white hair billowing dramatically in the gale she summoned around her. She descended effortlessly down from the sky, and with a graceful wave of her hand, a barrier of swirling wind formed over the crowd below as she got between the crowd and the Green Goblin.
More portals opened across the chaotic scene, and several members of the H.A.M.M.E.R team came through taking up positions.
Likewise, down with the crowds, Hammer Industries operatives began to pour through, cutting through the throng of panicked civilians, just the sight of them calming many down.
Their uniforms gleamed with Hammer Industries' insignias, and many of them carried cases of Panacea. Operatives knelt beside the wounded, administering the life-saving substance without hesitation. It didn't matter if the injuries came from the Goblin's bombs or the frantic stampede; the operatives were there to heal and stabilize - this settled the panicky crowd down even more.
With Storm above them drawing attention from everyone, the crowd began to calm. The screams turned into murmurs, then into a growing wave of cheers as people realized they were no longer in danger.
Peter's gaze shot to the sky as the sound of rushing wings cut through the din. The Vulture soared above the battlefield, his mechanical wings reflecting the sunlight in sharp, almost blinding flashes. The Goblin snarled as he realized his escape routes were being systematically blocked.
Storm caught Peter's eye from her position not too far away from his perch. Her uniform, skintight, clung to her like a second skin. The commanding presence she exuded made Peter pause for a moment longer than he should have. That was the story he was sticking with.
Then Storm smiled at him - a warm, almost teasing expression - and winked. Peter's face turned crimson as he quickly turned away, shaking his head.
Focus, Parker. You have a girlfriend. You're here to save people, not ogle superheroes, he told himself.
Still, his heart skipped a beat. He blamed the adrenaline.
The Goblin's mad laughter rang out again a tint of desperation to it, snapping Peter out of his thoughts. The villain's glider buzzed ominously as it hovered a few feet above the rooftop, his eyes darting between the operatives and Storm. He was assessing his options, but there were few left.
"Looks like your little game is up," Peter called, feeling a bit smug if he was honest.
The bastard had just outed him and made his life endlessly complicated, so he felt he was justified in feeling a bit vengeful over his coming comeuppance.
Before the Goblin could respond, a new figure stepped through one of the portals. Unlike the others, this man didn't hurry or run. He walked with the measured, deliberate pace of someone who knew the battlefield already belonged to him.
Justin Hammer.
The crowd quieted, as if the very air had grown still at his presence, Peter himself gulped, as he felt his hair stand on edge across his body.
Hammer was immaculate, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit. He didn't walk on solid ground, either. Instead, he moved through the air itself. Steps made of glowing, purple energy appeared beneath his feet with each step he took, only to dissolve into nothingness as soon as he moved forward again as he walked down from the portal in mid-air above them all.
Peter felt his heart rate lower almost instinctively. Justin Hammer's calm confidence was infectious, a promise that everything would be handled. The man had single-handedly turned around wars and disasters - surely the Green Goblin was nothing in comparison?
From his perch in the air, Hammer's sharp, cold gaze locked onto the Goblin. "Norman," He said, his voice cutting through the battlefield like a knife. "The Mandarin finally let you off the leash, it seems? And this is the best you can do? Cause a little chaos?"
The Goblin's expression twisted into a mask of fury as he ripped his helmet off, his hands twitching in barely suppressed rage. "Justin Hammer," He spat, his voice seething with hatred. "Always so smug, so sure of yourself. But I'll show you - I'll show everyone what I'm capable of!"
Hammer tilted his head, his expression one of bored amusement. "Capable of what, exactly?" He gestured lazily at the surrounding chaos. "This? Tossing bombs into a crowd and terrorizing civilians? Impressive stuff, truly. A real masterstroke that absolutely no one would have been capable of as a high school drop out capable of using Google's search engine." His tone was drenched in mockery.
The Goblin snarled, revving the engine of his glider as he prepared to charge. "You think you're untouchable, Hammer?!"
"I don't think, Norman," Hammer replied smoothly, his purple steps carrying him forward, "I know. And let's face it, the Mandarin doesn't think much of you either, does he? Letting you off the leash just to distract people? You're a pawn, Norman. You've always been a pawn."
Peter blinked, momentarily stunned by the sheer audacity of the words. Even in the face of a maniacal, armed villain, Hammer seemed completely unbothered, he allowed himself to relax, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding in.
The Goblin's rage boiled over, and he roared, flying straight toward Hammer at full speed. But the moment the glider neared, a shimmering shield of purple energy materialized around Hammer, forcing the Goblin to veer off at the last second.
"You're predictable, Norman," Hammer called after him, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "That's what makes you so easy to handle. You never learn."
Peter couldn't help but gape at the display. Hammer was handling the Goblin as though he were little more than a petulant child. It was… Kind of impressive..
As if the Goblin's defeat wasn't just assured - it was a foregone conclusion.
Right then, as Peter was quietly celebrating the incoming beatdown, Iron Man exploded onto the scene, tackling Justin Hammer into one of the orange portals, surprising absolutely everyone.
Peter didn't know what to think anymore.
He just wanted the world to start making sense.
Author's Note:
So finally found out what happened to Yelena's mother - if anyone even remembered that she was missing from the Red Room takedown.
What do you know? Justin does have a heart!
And of course, being Peter Parker is suffering. Even in a story that pretty much has nothing to do with him - he suffers.
And poor Norman, nothing but an afterthought and throwaway minion. His mind broken, his assets used by the Mandarin. Don't you all feel sad for this innocent poor man?
And yes, The Mandarin ass kicking is delayed, he's not at his home base yet. Justin wants to rip his entire legacy up by the root after all.
Cheers
JollyHippopotamus
- Location
- The Internet?
I really enjoyed this chapter, we're wrapping up the Moon Base business, returning to Earth and letting Justin get caught up on what's been going on with the rest of the world. Seeing the further fragmentation of the Avengers, with some of them going to ground, going down the rabbit hole, or going off the rails... Peter Parker gets outed, which seems to be a fact of life, but at least he's got Gwen by his side and she'll probably... hopefully, be safe.
At least Tony's gotten Justin away from the civilians, and cameras before cutting loose even if I doubt that was his motive for doing so. Maybe they can avoid talking past each other while fighting and Justin can get his best frenemy to take a beating so that they can go pay the Mandarin a whaddya call it? A visit A beating! That's it, so they can go pay him a beating.
please cheese, stick to the Black Widow like curds and whey, because it's dangerous to go it Provolone. You don't want to wind up with more holes than Swiss cheese after all! That would be positively un-American. Don't you understand? Gouda, I'm glad you do.
Since the legacy belongs to the Red Skull, specifically, there ought to be apostrophes there, yes? Also, the fact that Steve is suspecting Clint and Nat of being Hydra, with Bucky opposing them is a testament to how topsy turvy Justin's made the MCU, so splendid work!
Also, poor Bucky's voicemail box. That's gotta be so sad. "Bucky, you're alive?" *BEEP* "Bucky, you don't even have to use a rotary anymore, it's amazing!" *BEEP* "Why aren't you talking to me, bud? I know you've got a metal arm, but that's no excuse for the cold shoulder-" *The mailbox of [JAMES BUCCHANAN BARNES] is full, please try again later*
"You're on your own, boss."
"I just remembered I have my vacation days coming up, all of them..."
"Yelena, Domino! Wait, why is she conjuring necro-Ice cleats? Is that even a thing? Come back and protect meeeeeeee!"
"Hela?! What are you doing, get away from Tony, he's mine! I mean, uh, my nemesis... yes... that's it! Grr, have at thee, etcetera..."
"It's better 'n Air Tags, boss!"
Say, is the rate for the ferryman of the River Styx covered by his copay?
At least Tony's gotten Justin away from the civilians, and cameras before cutting loose even if I doubt that was his motive for doing so. Maybe they can avoid talking past each other while fighting and Justin can get his best frenemy to take a beat
Thanos: "Wait, let the man cook. And everyone else, just lower your guard for a little bit, why don't you..."
I mean... it is kinda the fash playbook. Sometimes the threats are even real! Y'know, like a little treat.
Should this be 'wasn't there?' or 'God, it could always be worse? Couldn't it?' If you're really keen to keep the 'it,' you've gotta rework the prior sentence. Swapping to 'there,' there seems cleaner. There there though, I'm sure it will all work out no matter how you slice it.
Hail Havarti, Hawkeye. And
Aww, but really, this is a sad ending for these two. 😓 I mean, sure, it beats racing to suicide off of a big ol' alien rock so you can get a pretty pebble from Herr Shmidt, the wade pool lifeguard, but still, it's not that much better.
"Did you notice the Babybels, Herr Captain? Have the alarms been ringing in your head at the grocers? All wrapped in wax? Red wax!"
Since the legacy belongs to the Red Skull, specifically, there ought to be apostrophes there, yes? Also, the fact that Steve is suspecting Clint and Nat of being Hydra, with Bucky opposing them is a testament to how topsy turvy Justin's made the MCU, so splendid work!
Also, poor Bucky's voicemail box. That's gotta be so sad. "Bucky, you're alive?" *BEEP* "Bucky, you don't even have to use a rotary anymore, it's amazing!" *BEEP* "Why aren't you talking to me, bud? I know you've got a metal arm, but that's no excuse for the cold shoulder-" *The mailbox of [JAMES BUCCHANAN BARNES] is full, please try again later*
Formatting ate a line break, I think. Honestly, it seems like a good time for him to clear the air with Bucky, for real. Even if he's been doing all the/ wrong things/ True care, truth brings...
Like... literally? Because, 1) Ewwww, and 2) They'll need a lot of mops if that's the case.
Honestly, if they adopt a full Ron/Tammy Two dynamic, that would be quite a delight.
Did they at least use a damn dental dam? All the power in the world don't do you no good when the clap claps back!
"Why is she looking at me like I'm a mountain to climb?"
"You're on your own, boss."
"I just remembered I have my vacation days coming up, all of them..."
"Yelena, Domino! Wait, why is she conjuring necro-Ice cleats? Is that even a thing? Come back and protect meeeeeeee!"
No, that's the Russian in the other room... Oh, I just made myself sad. Hey, we've got confirmation on the Mom, but what of Dreykov's daughter? Was she one of the casualties, too, or no?
Whoever she is, Justin probably also doesn't want to let Freyja know about it, either.
Now I'm just picturing Thanos, member of the interstellar welcoming committee trying to be a good neighbor. "What to get the aspiring planetary conqueror? Paper's the traditional first anniversary gift, but I don't want to give him any of my paper people... how about Skrulls? They don't grow on trees, but gosh are there a lot of them." Also, is the unit of measure for Skrulls a bushel in this story, like officially?
Ooooofff, just another reminder that Billionaires. Are not. Your friends. This is definitely a darker journey down the trousers of time, innit?
"Plain? Oh darling, I'll have you know he's anything but vanilla..."
"Hela?! What are you doing, get away from Tony, he's mine! I mean, uh, my nemesis... yes... that's it! Grr, have at thee, etcetera..."
Ought to be capitalized. She can be 'miss,' when it's the only word addressing her, but if you want to talk to 'Miss Nail,' it ought to be capitalized.
Likewise, this was capitalized in the other instance, but isn't in this one, so it ought to be for consistency, or the other one demoted to lower case. Either or.
Do you mean to have Nail say 'falling' here, or should it be 'failing?'
Control ending of ME3 confirmed. Justin likes blue instead of red.
Sorry Nail, his hands are tied. He's gotta do what he's gotta do.
You were this close to me linking the Tucker Carlson 'spanking' speech as a bucket of frigid water. Justin, man, get a hold of yourself.
You're saying it's not a task he's... mastered? Well, he's on the Moon. Knight in shining armor is what he needs to be to help take care of best girl.
Missing apostrophe. And I like the idea that Helen's devotion has converted her into human LoJack.
"It's better 'n Air Tags, boss!"
Man, the Occupy movement hits different in the MCU, doesn't it?
Should be 'bullets,' probably. Bullers are something... rather different. I sometimes learn new words looking them up to make sure I'm not just missing what an author is meaning, but somehow, I think you mean bullets here.
The earlier instances of 'Spider-man' have the dash, but this one doesn't, so... you oughta fix that for consistency, if you want.
This feels like some sort of metaphor for the top heavy healthcare structure... or crushing weight of the system, but something tells me that Norman isn't going to have to worry about any bills.
Say, is the rate for the ferryman of the River Styx covered by his copay?
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Chapter 44: Not with a Bang, but with a Whimper.
Here's chapter 44: Not with a Bang, but with a Whimper.
Here we go, as the overlords of Patron has demanded, the Mandarin will finally get to see that he might have perhaps made a mistake or two in his life.
Or not, but at least he'll get a participant award?
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc.
Hope you enjoy.
New York City
The Green Goblin's shrill, manic laughter echoed across the rooftops as the portal snapped shut, leaving Justin Hammer and Iron Man nowhere to be seen. Peter crouched low on the ledge of a nearby building, his heartbeat thundering in his chest as he stared at the deranged villain.
He was used to dealing with crazy people, this was New York after all. But even his time as Spider Man couldn't prepare him for just how crazy the Green Goblin was. Couldn't he see that nothing had changed for him?
"What are you going to do now!?" Norman Osborn bellowed, his voice vibrating with manic energy. He gripped one of his pumpkin bombs, the glowing orange casing casting a sickly light over his twisted and demented grin. "Your hero is gone! There's no one left to save you!"
Peter couldn't help himself. It wasn't his fight anymore, strictly speaking - Hammer Industries had arrived to clean up the mess - but the sight of the Goblin's smug and deranged face ignited something petty inside him. The quip rolled off his tongue before he could stop it.
"Are you legally blind? Is that it? Do you need a guide dog to run that glider for you?" Peter shot back, as he looked on in disbelief at the Goblins' good mood.
Osborn's smile faltered for a fraction of a second, before twisting into a furious snarl. "Quip all you want, insect! But your HERO is not here!" He spat. His voice cracked slightly, the raw edge of his rage giving him an almost inhuman quality.
Peter's tiny smile only widened, though the sight of Osborn's face - so deluded, so vicious - sent a chill down his spine. "You really need to look around, man," He said casually, though his shoulders remained tense, his muscles coiled like springs.
He was ready to move at a moment's notice if the madman attacked him again. Gwen should be fine now that Hammer Industries was here, so he only needed to keep his wits about him for a few more moments. He still couldn't help but add more fuel to the fire though, "I knew you were crazy, but are you like, on something? I know a guy, rehab isn't shameful, you know?"
For a moment, Osborn's bloodshot eyes darted around the battlefield, only now seemingly coming to the realization that he was still surrounded.
His focus on Justin Hammer had blinded Osborn for a moment, and the enraged hiss that erupted from his lips as Osborn realized it, made Peter feel quite smug as reality set in for the villain.
Peter thought it was nice to get to see a villain dealt with without dozens of bruises or a cracked rib on his part. He sat down on the ledge, legs dangling as he prepared to just watch the show, only geeking out a little to get to see the H.A.M.M.E.R team up close.
If only he had popcorn right now…
"I would suggest you stand down, Mr. Goblin, it would be far easier on you." Storm's voice rang out coolly, her tone carrying a casual authority that made the hair on Peter's neck stand up. Or it could be the feeling of lightning in the air.
Osborn's gaze snapped downward just as Storm drifted into view, hovering effortlessly in the sky below him. Her long, white hair streamed behind her like a banner, and her piercing gaze pinned Osborn in place. A faint smile played on her lips as she lifted a hand in a small, taunting wave. The rippling energy surrounding her made the air hum with electricity as sparks flickered around her.
Peter tore his gaze away quickly, cheeks heating up. Stop staring, stop staring, stop staring, he berated himself. It wasn't his fault Storm's uniform was... Form-fitting, to say the least. You have a girlfriend! He reminded himself again, cheeks pinking as Storm caught him looking, again.
He was never going to be able to look her in the face ever again! Don't stare Parker! He chided himself.
From the rooftops on either side of the Green Goblin, the other reinforcements made their presence known. Electro stood on one building, arcs of electricity dancing between his fingers. The bright, crackling light illuminated his sharp grin, his expression radiating excitement.
"Showtime, Babycakes!" Electro yelled excitedly, throwing out his arms. A beam of electricity erupted from his hands, cutting through the air toward Osborn and his Glider.
He shrieked in rage and hate, hurling himself off his glider at the last second to avoid being fried, even as the Glider attempted to get out of the way. The Glider took some damage, parts of it sparking on its left wing, as it couldn't fully avoid the blast, before it shot down towards Osborn's falling form, moving to catch its master - but before it could reach him, the Scorpion, perched on the opposite rooftop, fired a shoulder-mounted cannon that had tracked Osborn's descent. A high-pitched sonic wave tore through the air, hammering both the Osborn and his glider with brutal force.
The glider spiraled out of control, slamming into the side of a building with a screech of tearing metal. Osborn himself hit and went through the walls of the apartment building Electro stood on, bouncing like a ragdoll through an apartment before crashing into the debris he'd made, his skull still ringing from the sonic blast.
"Man, that was your shot, not mine. I'm not paying for the damages," Electro called across the rooftops, pointing an accusatory finger at Scorpion.
Scorpion's voice crackled through his speakers. "You're standing on it. Your building, your responsibility Max."
Electro stomped his foot angrily, "Man, that's some bullshit, Frank!"
Peter blinked as he watched the banter play out, unable to help the slight fanboy grin tugging at his lips. He'd seen these guys in action on the news, but watching them work up close was a whole other level.
"Boys," Storm called, her voice lilting with amusement. "Argue after you grab the lunatic."
Osborn clawed his way out of the rubble, his armor twisted and scorched. "You think this is over!?" He screeched, a pumpkin bomb already in his hand as he jumped on his returning Glider. "I'll -"
He never got the chance to finish.
Storm sighed, rolling her eyes before she lifted a single hand. The wind shifted sharply, a sudden, deafening roar of air filling the space between buildings, as a swirling tornado materialized around Osborn. The bombs he hurled were snatched up instantly, spiraling harmlessly into the sky as the wind carried them far out of reach.
Peter's jaw dropped as he clung to the side of the building for balance, watching the effortless display of power. "Holy shit," He blurted out before he could stop himself, his voice inaudible to the others, unable to carry over the noise.
Osborn's indignant scream as he was tossed into the sky, his bombs out of reach, was cut off as the Vulture descended like a missile from the heavens, slamming into him with brutal force. The villain's body crunched into the side of yet another building, the glider's remnants scattering in pieces as Vulture's razor-edged wings slashed through the machinery with a screech of metal on metal.
Peter moved on instinct, firing a web that stuck the Green Goblin to the wall before his battered body could slide any farther. It wasn't even a conscious thought - just muscle memory at this point.
Unfortunately, that also meant everyone's attention turned to him.
Peter froze as Storm hovered up to him, her feet drifting gracefully to the rooftop as she set down. She offered him a gentle, knowing smile. "It's quite alright. Thank you for the assist, young man."
He nodded quickly, his face burning as he fought to maintain any semblance of composure. Be cool, Parker. Be cool.
Do. Not. Look. Down. He inwardly yelled as he struggled to maintain eye contact.
Storm's gaze held a flicker of amusement, like she knew exactly what he was struggling with. That somehow made it worse.
This was Black Cat all over again!
"Hey, he's the Spider Boy, right?" Electro shouted from his rooftop, leaning on the edge with a grin. "I've seen his stuff. He's the guy on YouTube, man!"
"It's Spider Man!" Peter shouted back automatically, his voice cracking slightly with indignation. He regretted it immediately, don't shout at the super team! He chastised himself, screaming on the inside.
"Spider Boy," Vulture chimed in, his mechanical wings humming with power as he hovered effortlessly in the air. "Pretty sure that's what we're going with, especially with his cute crush on Storm so obvious."
Peter groaned internally. Why? Why now? In front of Storm?
"Never mind all that!" Electro called again, clapping his hands together with excitement. "Come on, he's gotta be on the team, right? Dude's cool. I saw his shit. He's, like, the real deal!"
"Electro follows me?" Peter muttered to himself, blinking in disbelief. This was the weirdest day ever. And that was saying a lot, considering some of the… Characters he'd interacted with as Spider Man.
"We know all about you." A cool voice said from behind him, as he almost fell off the ledge, before looking back and seeing Captain friggin' America standing there.
Sure it was the new Captain America, but still! Captain America knew who he was! Peter decided that if he died right now, it was okay.
Storm chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine. "Of course we know about you, Spider Man. You've done a good job holding the streets together around here, we've noticed and appreciate your efforts."
Peter's brain short-circuited for a moment. Storm also knows about me!? He couldn't stop himself from stammering out, "R-really?" The squeak in his voice made him want to throw himself off the building immediately. Way to go Parker! He thought, feeling himself blushing.
He especially felt it, as the Vulture immediately cackled, "Spider Boy! See, it's more fitting!" Mocking him.
Storm smiled knowingly at him however, patting him gently on the shoulder. "With your identity revealed, you should come with us," She said gently, her tone kind but firm. "Just to sort everything out, for your own good."
Peter hesitated, glancing down at the crowd below. He knew what she meant - his face was already all over the place no doubt. There was no hiding anymore. But his mind immediately went to Gwen, lost somewhere in that sea of people.
"My girlfriend…" He began, his voice quieter. "She's down there."
Storm's expression softened. "Gwen Stacy, right? We'll pick her up as well."
Peter's head snapped up, wide-eyed. "How -" He started, then stopped himself. Of course they knew. They were Hammer Industries. They seemed to know everything.
He normally found that creepy, but right now, somehow, it only felt right…
He nodded numbly, processing the whirlwind of events as Vulture dragged the now screaming Norman Osborn through one of the remaining orange portals. With the Goblin dealt with and the crowd cheering, the chaos was completely over before it could even begin to cause any real casualties.
Storm turned back to him after speaking softly to someone using one of the mental implants Hammer Industries was selling everywhere, offering her hand. "Come on, Spider Man. It's time to move out of the public's eye, let us help clean this up for you."
Peter hesitated for a split second longer, his mind racing with a thousand doubts. But looking at Storm, at the calm confidence in her expression and the steady way she extended her hand, he felt something click into place.
The Green Goblin had torn what he had left of his world apart. His identity was out there. There was no going back to the life he had before.
But maybe - just maybe - this was a chance to build something new.
Peter swallowed hard, straightened his shoulders, and took Storm's hand.
He just hoped he'd stop embarrassing himself, at least.
HammerOne, space station.
Tony and Justin crashed through the swirling orange portal, tangled together in a blur of limbs and armor as they tumbled across the smooth, polished floor of the space station. The weight of Tony's Iron Man armor sent them skidding farther than either anticipated until they finally came to a graceless stop, Justin sprawled on top of Tony's chest.
Tony's faceplate retracted with a hiss, revealing his deadpan expression as he looked up at Justin, who appeared to be equally annoyed with their position. "Snap a pic of this," Tony quipped dryly, "And we'll be on the cover of GQ Magazine by tomorrow. I can practically taste the homoeroticism already."
Justin's lip curled into a smirk, and he pushed himself up and off Tony, brushing imaginary dust from his tailored Armani suit. "Always the jester, Tony," Justin said, his voice dripping with superiority as he straightened his lapels. "Even when you're begging me for a favor, you can't help but make light of it, after bowling me over like a common brute as well…"
Tony didn't bother responding verbally. Instead, the arc reactor in his chest hummed to life, thrusters firing as he shot off the floor and hovered mid-air, rising just enough to make sure he loomed over Justin. With his arms crossed and his expression locked somewhere between smug and suspicious, Tony peered down at him. "Hey, let's get one thing straight - first off, I'm not begging for anything. Secondly…" Tony trailed off, his brows knitting as his eyes went distant for a moment as he listened to the diagnostics being fed to him by Jarvis. "Hold on. What the hell?"
He closed his face plate, Justin just giving him a smug look as Tony scanned him openly, uncaring about the number of weapons pointed at him by the many, many hot women in tight bodysuits around them.
His expression turned incredulous as the readings scrolled faster. The armor's sensors were feeding him data that didn't make sense. That was just not possible, by any scientific variable he could lean on.
"Jarvis, I know it's been a weird day, but does Justin Hammer's energy signature read like he's giving off enough power to tell the Sun to stop being embarrassing and start lifting? That can't be right. I mean, look at him." Tony gestured with both hands, his voice laden with disbelief. "The guy's a dork!"
Justin felt an eye twitch, but otherwise kept his smug calmness. It wasn't everyday someone like Tony came face to face with a God, after all.
Jarvis' calm, ever-reliable voice filtered into Tony's helmet. "The system is functioning at optimal levels, sir. I can confirm the energy readings are accurate, though I have no explanation for their source."
Tony blinked, then looked at Justin more closely. "You hear that, Hammer? Even Jarvis thinks you're impossible. So fess up? What is it? Steroids? Super Soldier Serum straight to the testicles? You got to be juicing something..."
Justin didn't reply immediately. Instead, he continued smiling - a smug, knowing smile that sent a ripple of unease through Tony's gut. He tilted his head ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing with amusement. "First time standing in the presence of a god, huh, Tony?"
Tony froze mid-hover, processing the words. Then, slowly, he muttered, "Oh great. He's gone crazy. Crazier." The faceplate hissed back to reveal Tony's full look of disbelief, and he rubbed a gauntleted hand across his face like a man trying to scrub away a migraine. "It's not like I couldn't see this coming, what with the megalomania, naming everything after yourself, the man slut with a harem thing -"
"...Don't throw rocks in glasshouses, Tony." Justin interrupted, fairly annoyed at this point. He was tempted to showcase his power, but it wasn't really the best occasion for it, so he resisted his need to put the man in his place.
Pepper was missing, he'd give him a break, this time.
"Why does everyone use that!? It makes perfect sense to throw rocks in a glasshouse!" Tony complained, throwing his arms up.
"Tony, focus. You called me, remember, you're only here because I'm doing you a favor." Justin said, some of his irritation leaking through.
"Jarvis, go ahead and run a system reboot because there's no way my scanners are working properly." Tony said, completely ignoring him.
"Sir, I assure you -"
Justin raised a hand to interrupt, his tone unusually patient. "Before you waste more of my time unnecessarily, I'd like a word with Jarvis."
Tony raised an eyebrow, having slid back his face plate again, ending his hovering as his feet touched the floor. "Oh? What do you say, Jarvis? Feel like entertaining the man with the God complex?"
Jarvis sighed, which for an AI, meant he was showcasing his exasperation. "Sir, I must remind you that we came here seeking cooperation. Perhaps civility would serve us better than sarcasm."
Justin nodded approvingly, fixing his gaze on one of the sensors in Tony's suit as if addressing Jarvis directly. "I just wanted to say thank you." His voice softened ever so slightly. "Thank you for helping Nail when she needed it."
Tony was as always, entirely annoying to work with, but Jarvis was fine, he might be the most evolved Nanny in the world, but he was good at his job. And Justin wouldn't disregard someone who'd helped one of his.
Tony blinked, his smug expression faltering. "Oh-ho, Jarvis. Looks like you've got approval from her dad. How does that make you feel? Are you ready to go to the next level? You and your little AI girlfriend saving the day and getting frisky together?" He waggled his eyebrows like a mischievous teenager.
"Sir…" Jarvis protested, his voice flat with exasperation.
Justin wasn't much better, sighing at the other man's penchant for making every situation irritating. They still could do nothing but wait, and both men knew it, so he could excuse it as nervous energy, but he could only take the other man in small doses like this.
Before Tony could push the joke any further, a shimmering light appeared next to Justin. Nail's holographic avatar materialized - a sleek, confident female figure glowing faintly, her expression appeared neutral, yet her eyes immediately sought out Jarvis sensors.
"Thank you, Jarvis," Nail said quietly, inclining her head ever so slightly.
For a moment, Tony's sarcasm died entirely as he turned to stare at her projection. "Okay, hold on - this is Nail? This is the AI that's been cleaning up your messes, Hammer?" He leaned back slightly, processing. "She's - well, she's you, but a girl. That's weird. And more narcissistic than even I thought you were." He threw his hands out helplessly, "And that's saying something since you're now calling yourself a god…"
Justin was about to retort when Jarvis - clearly tired of his creators comments - activated the holographic projector in Tony's suit. Another figure appeared next to Tony - an equally faint but unmistakable holographic man with a sharp goatee, the perfect depiction of Tony Stark himself. The room fell silent for half a beat.
And then there were muffled snickers from the technicians in the background, the Widows good enough to hide them, but no doubt echoing the feeling.
Domino wasn't even bothering to hide her own amusement.
Justin pinched the bridge of his nose. "I swear to god…" The gossip chain at Hammer Industries would have a field day with this one, he thought.
Tony turned to Jarvis's holographic form, blinking owlishly. "Jarvis… You went with me as your avatar?" He paused, looking from Nail in a female Justin Hammer avatar, to Jarvis in his Tony Stark avatar, "Any other time I'd be flattered, buddy, right now… I have mixed feelings."
"Given the circumstances," Jarvis replied smoothly, his digital form crossing its arms in an identical pose to Tony, "I thought it appropriate for my interactions with Miss Nail." Sharing a small smile with his AI contemporary.
Nail cocked her head at Jarvis, her expression mirroring the patented Hammer smugness with a smile of her own. "Well, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Also, he wears it better than you do, Mr. Stark, so no need to worry."
"Oh no," Tony muttered, his voice tinged with real horror. "You're flirting. You two are flirting. Looking like me and Hammer!"
"Sir, that is immaterial," Jarvis replied, though his holographic projection flickered as if embarrassed.
"Enough!" Justin barked, exasperated. "Nail, Jarvis, deactivate your avatars. Now." The two holographic figures blinked out of existence immediately, leaving behind a faint shimmer of static in the air. Justin turned to glare at Tony. "Can we focus on the serious business now, Stark? Or do you want to keep playing matchmaker for our AI?"
He wasn't thrilled either by their forms, but he also wasn't a child, like his rival was, whenever Pepper wasn't around to keep him on track.
Tony held up his hands in mock surrender, though his grin was back. "Hey, you brought it on yourself. Your creepy daughter AI has a thing for Jarvis, and you -" He paused, sobering slightly as the humor drained from his voice as he switched tacks to the serious subject they'd been avoiding. "You're telling me Pepper is safe, no matter what? You better not be screwing around on this one, Justin…"
Justin's expression hardened, his earlier smugness replaced by something far colder. "I know exactly where my hostage is at all times. She's fine. The Mandarin won't kill her. Worst case, if Miss Potts is kept separate from mine, I'll send someone to infiltrate his base to make sure of her whereabouts, before we level the place."
They'd of course been in contact through Nail and Jarvis ever since the Mandarin made his threats. Tony was many things, a manchild, a moron, a slave to his neuroses and wants, but he wasn't stupid. Hence why the fool kept trying to distract himself, as they waited for the time to strike.
Justin had enough of the court jester however, so if he could drag Tony back to being the Merchant of Death instead, that was better for his own sanity right now..
Tony clenched his fists, the joints of his armor creaking faintly. His voice dropped, low and dangerous. "You'd better be right. Because if anything happens to her -"
"I'm right," Justin interrupted firmly. His eyes glinted, and there was something in the way he said it - something dark, something vicious - that made Tony pause. "I don't make promises lightly, Stark."
Tony forced himself to relax, his hands falling back to his sides. He didn't like this - none of it - but Justin had a track record of keeping his word when it came down to serious business. And if Hammer's hostage was alive, then so was Pepper. For now. He had to believe it.
Without Pepper…
Tony would burn it all down.
"The Mandarin won't be fooled for long," Tony warned, starting to pace. "Tackling you through that portal wasn't a subtle move. He'll know something's up when nothing else happens."
They'd both decided that a public fight between the two of them wasn't worth the hassle, it would become too obvious, too quickly, that they weren't really trying to kill each other.
Justin smiled faintly, a predatory gleam in his eye. "It's not meant to fool him for long. The Mandarin's been avoiding electronic communication except for his little show-and-tell with you. By the time he hears a report about your 'attack' on me, it'll take a while before he can confirm nothing happened afterwards. That's all the time we need."
Helen Cho hadn't moved for a bit now, so he was fairly certain they had their location. By the time the Mandarin heard back from the outside world, it would be too late.
"I'm not waiting any longer," Tony said, his voice sharp. "I want this done now, you said she's not moving, right? So check now."
Justin's smile grew cruel, and for the first time, Tony noticed the faint glow emanating from behind Justin's eyes. It was subtle, but it sent a chill through him as he felt a pressure almost pushing down on him.
"We're not waiting," Justin replied, his tone deadly calm. "This ends today, but I suppose as a favor to you, we can move right now, although if you take that tone with me again…" He warned, the pressure increasing around them.
Tony stared at him for a beat longer, feeling himself gulp as sweat poured down his face, then he nodded. "Good." His thrusters flared as he hovered again, testing all his combat systems, his suit humming with barely restrained power. "Let's get to work then."
He kept a wary sensor and eye on Hammer as he did, not sure what that feeling was, but not wanting to be under it again.
Justin watched him for a moment longer, his smile lingering as he turned and strode toward the control panels and their operators.
It was time.
Ten Rings Main Base, Kunlun Mountains, China.
Xu Wenwu, also known as the Mandarin, the legendary immortal leader of the Ten Rings, stood with an air of unyielding authority on the stone balcony overlooking the expansive courtyard of his secluded mountain fortress.
Pulling back to his roots had been good in many ways, it had cut away the sloth in his men, and brought him back to the ruthless conqueror he'd been before he had allowed modern conveniences to weaken him.
The sun was high in the sky, its golden rays illuminating the disciplined chaos below. His children, Shang-Chi and Xialing, stood beside him - Shang-Chi, a boy of ten with a posture already attempting to mirror his father's rigidity, and Xialing, a girl of six who he hoped one day would match her mother in beauty - without her foolish sentiments.
Her death might be the only one he'd ever feel the slightest sorrow over. But her continued refusal to lead him to the dimensional space she'd hailed from - had eventually led to the only possible outcome.
Her torture and death at his hands.
Asia was his after all, this included any other dimension which hid within its confines. It was irritating that he'd have to wait, but Shang-chi or Xialing would one day lead him and his men through.
Even with her refusal to cooperate, with her spitting on their marriage vows to obey her husband, he'd felt a stirring of pride at the woman he'd married. Even at the end, with his hands around her throat, she'd never once broken and detailed the way through to his goal. Truly a woman worthy of his love even in death.
He'd never found one like her in the years after.
In the courtyard below them, his elite warriors of the Ten Ring, engaged in rigorous training. Pairs of combatants sparred with lethal precision, their movements a symphony of martial prowess unmatched on Earth. The metallic clang of weapons striking resonated through the crisp air. Some practiced with traditional Chinese weapons - jian swords flashing in the light, guandao blades sweeping in deadly arcs - while others demonstrated unarmed combat, their fists and feet moving in blurs, executing strikes and counterstrikes with impeccable timing.
Wenwu's gaze was inscrutable. He had spent centuries amassing power, his immortality granted by the mystical Ten Rings adorning his forearms. Yet, in this modern age, he understood that brute strength alone was insufficient. The world had evolved, and so had the nature of control. He'd let time pass by without paying proper attention to happenings outside of Asia, his fault, in the end.
He'd grown too lax, and had waited too long to strike against his enemies.
Yet, he was the Mandarin, he had the Ten Rings, he would prevail.
His recent maneuvers against Hammer Industries had been calculated to perfection. Through covert operations, he had orchestrated moves that destabilized their supply chains, orchestrated attacks to cripple their physical and technological infrastructure, killing his people and weakening his reputation Each move was a deliberate stroke, weakening the foundation of Justin Hammer's empire without direct confrontation with the man himself.
The idea, to weaken the man one bite at a time, until an opening presented itself. And it had. As he'd known would happen.
The acquisition of his trump cards brought a cold smile to Wenwu's lips. Pepper Potts, the woman Tony Stark cherished above all else, was now his captive. And within the confines of his domain, Dr. Helen Cho, carrying the unborn child of Justin Hammer, remained under his watchful eye.
He understood these men, and that is why he had won. Tony Stark above all else craved acceptance and love. He would do anything to not lose his wife.
Justin Hammer worked like a man possessed, innovating and running through the economy and business world like a raging bull in a fine china shop. No man worked so frantically for no reason. Wenwu had found the reason.
Legacy.
Justin Hammer wanted to be remembered as the most powerful man in Earth's history, and leave a monument behind for his line.
His child would be the most important thing for such a man.
He didn't care whether Hammer killed Stark, or Stark killed Hammer, or even if both survived. It would simply be proof over the men of the kind of pull he has over them.
He doubted that particular ploy would even work against Stark anyway, but it amused him to cause more emotional turmoil amongst his enemies.
It would make them easier to handle once they inevitably were forced into his temporary service.
Of course, Hammer would have to die eventually, but he could use his legacy for some… Benefits for his own goals, before he allowed the man to finally die.
He glanced at his son, Shang-Chi, whose eyes were fixed on the warriors below, absorbing every detail of their combat. "Strength is not merely a matter of muscle and skill," Wenwu intoned, his voice resonant with the weight of experience. "True power lies in understanding the weaknesses of your adversaries and exploiting them to your advantage."
Shang-Chi would study the downfall of Justin Hammer one day, and understand his father's words, Wenwu hoped.
Xialing, standing on the other side of her father, looked up, her expression a blend of curiosity and determination. "Is that why you have taken these people, Father? To use them against their loved ones?"
Bright, even for one so young. If only she'd been born a male…
Wenwu's gaze softened marginally anyway as he regarded his daughter, his reminder of his beloved. "Every man harbors a weakness," He explained. "For Tony Stark, it is the woman he loves. For Justin Hammer, it is his desperate desire to leave a legacy through his child. By holding what they value most, I command their actions without lifting a sword."
Below, a particularly fierce bout drew their attention. Two senior warriors engaged in a display of acrobatic combat, their movements fluid yet forceful. One executed a soaring leap, twisting mid-air to deliver a kick that his opponent narrowly deflected, countering with a rapid series of palm strikes that drove the attacker back.
"Observe them," Wenwu instructed his children. "Their bodies are weapons, honed to perfection. Yet, even the sharpest blade is useless if the mind wielding it is clouded. Control the mind, and the body will follow."
Shang-Chi nodded solemnly, absorbing his father's teachings. Xialing, though silent, clenched her small fists, her resolve hardening.
Wenwu continued, his tone contemplative. "I have spent lifetimes conquering nations, toppling governments, bending the will of countless men. Yet, it is through understanding and manipulating the desires and fears of others that I have achieved true dominance."
He turned to his children, his expression one of stern expectation. "You are my heirs. One day, the weight of this empire will rest upon your shoulders. Remember, brute force is a tool, but intellect and strategy are the keys to ruling the world."
They needed ambition… Even if he would never let go of the reins of his empire, they could still be of use, perhaps his son could create his own outside of Asia?
As the training session in the courtyard reached its zenith, the warriors moved in perfect synchrony, a choreographed dance of death and discipline. The sight was both beautiful and terrifying - a manifestation of Wenwu's relentless pursuit of perfection.
It was why he was the greatest mind on Earth after all, because he sought perfection in all things.
"With Stark and Hammer under my control," Wenwu declared, his voice tinged with satisfaction, "I hold the strings that make the most powerful men in the world dance to my tune. This, my children, makes me the most powerful man on this earth."
The sun climbed higher, casting its light upon the fortress - a bastion of power built over centuries, now poised to shape the future under the unyielding will of Xu Wenwu and the legacy he was forging through his progeny.
Hammer sought to build his own legacy?
Perhaps Wenwu would let his son use the scraps of Hammer's business empire to rise up and craft his own as a test.
Yes…
That would be a worthy test of his heir.
HammerOne, Space station.
Tony and Justin stood side by side in the control center of the space station, tension radiating off them like heat waves. Monitors displayed fragmented images of the Mandarin's hidden compound deep in the mountains of China. The air buzzed with anticipation as they waited for their Black Widow operative to report back.
Nearby, Hela sprawled lazily across an improbable pile of plush pillows. Where she had procured them - or why she even needed them - was anyone's guess. She looked more like a languid predator lounging after a feast than a goddess of death waiting for battle. A black, shimmering necrosword twirled in her fingers with unnerving ease, catching the light of the room.
"Can I kill them yet?" Hela's voice broke through the silence, low and dangerously bored. Her eyes gleamed with sharp impatience and bloodlust.
Justin didn't even look up from the monitors. "Soon," He replied flatly, his tone clipped. His focus remained locked on the Widow's progress, one screen showing nothing but a blinking dot on a GPS screen, showcasing the hidden operative moving through the Mandarins base.
Tony shot Hela a wary glance, the frown on his face deepening. He leaned slightly toward Justin and muttered out of the corner of his mouth, "Are you sure she's stable? Because I'm not convinced."
Justin smirked faintly, eyes still glued to the monitor. "She's definitely not."
Tony scoffed, throwing his hands up as he began to pace again. "And you're going to send her where Pepper is? Really? That's your plan?"
Justin finally turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "No, I'm going to send her down to kill everything else once Pepper is safe. I know what I'm doing, Tony, man up a little." He criticized him, his own focus on the final end of the Mandarin, not really caring too much about Tony's feelings right now.
Pepper would be fine, as would Helen, Tony needed to learn to trust that Justin knew what he was doing.
Tony paused mid-step, as he weighed the response. After a beat, he nodded reluctantly. "Alright then, it's decided. You're a dick."
Justin scoffed, "Choke on it, Tony."
Domino sniggered in the corner, "Boss, you're not helping the rumours." She pointed out mirthfully.
"This waiting is stressing me out, when are we going!?" Tony growled, stomping forward until he was right by the monitors.
"When the boss says so, learn your place." Yelena snapped, having grown more and more annoyed the more Tony complained.
"If you're about to say my place is underneath him, I'm going to hurl." Tony said matter of factly.
"Hot." Domino said with a shit eating grin.
Justin didn't even look at her as he pointed at her, "One more word out of you, and I'll make you Hela's sparring partner."
Hela smirked where she lounged, giving Domino a lustful look, Domino rearing back slightly, miming zipping her lips.
Tony gave them both a long considering look, "Hot." He muttered, before smirking at Justin, showing he did it only to continue to mess with him.
At this point he almost wanted to hit the Mandarin early just to get the man off his space station.
The room fell silent again afterwards, except for the faint hum of electronics and Tony's impatient pacing. Every few moments, his eyes darted toward the monitors, scanning for any sign of Pepper. He didn't like waiting. He hated waiting.
"Is she there yet?" Tony asked sharply, his voice tight with barely contained frustration.
Justin closed his eyes briefly as if summoning patience. "Tony... Don't make me send you for a timeout."
"Am I five?" Tony shot back, his sarcasm masking his worry. "Just give me something. Anything."
Justin didn't bother answering. Instead, with a flick of his fingers, he opened a small orange portal that showcased the "Welcome to Malibu" sign. "I don't need you to rescue them." He reminded him coldly.
Tony's jaw clenched. "Unfair, bullshit magic," He muttered, scowling.
Justin allowed himself a faint smirk. He had enjoyed proving magic's existence to Tony - just enough to remind him who was in charge here. For all of Tony's brilliance, his stubbornness made these moments of clear superiority all the sweeter.
It had taken a copious amount of proof to get the man to admit magic was maybe, perhaps, a tiny bit real.
But it had shut him up.
For a few minutes.
"Sir," A Black Widow operative at the controls reported, breaking the tension. "The Widow reports eyes on Miss Potts. Two guards with her."
Justin's head snapped up, his expression sharpening into something cold and predatory. "Hela. Tony. We're ready." Power wafted over him as his heart beat faster in anticipation. "Let's break them."
Tony's armor whined softly as it activated fully, his helmet snapping into place. Hela sat up straight, a grin stretching across her face, as her necrosword solidified into something even darker, jagged, and lethal. She looked positively giddy at the opportunity to participate in a slaughter with no restrictions.
Justin focused, his eyes narrowing as he honed in on the location of Helen Cho and his operative who was right outside Pepper Potts location.
Time to get rid of the Mandarins pathetic attempts to fuck around.
…
Helen Cho's Cell.
Helen Cho sat alone in the sterile confines of her tiny cell. It was dark, cold, and bare, save for the flickering glow of the lights overhead.
She hadn't been fed yet, and neither did the cell have access to any way of relieving herself.
Yet, Helen didn't despair. She didn't cry. She didn't rage at her captors. No, she sat with perfect calm, her hands resting over her stomach protectively as she whispered under her breath.
"He's coming."
Her voice was quiet but full of unwavering faith. Her mind turned to Justin Hammer - the God she revered, the God whose vision had changed the world. Others called her loyalty fanaticism, but Helen knew better. She believed in him with all her being because it was right. She knew he wouldn't let her rot here. He would come for her. He would save her.
Her God was a vengeful one.
He would ensure the non-believers would pay for their heretical behavior.
Maya would be brought back, or at the very least if that wasn't an option for her, forever be with her God in the afterlife. She did not mourn her, being with her God forevermore wasn't sad.
It was a gift.
Helen's lips curved into a small smile. She tilted her head upward, closing her eyes as if offering a prayer, almost feeling his touch. "Glory to Hammer," She whispered, giggling softly.
Then it happened.
The ground beneath her feet glowed orange, and in the blink of an eye, the floor disappeared as the portal came into being underneath her. Helen let out a sharp breath as she fell through the portal, her body weightless for a split second before solid ground caught her gently on the other side.
She landed in a well-lit, pristine room aboard the Hammer space station. Her giggles turned into laughter as she straightened herself, looking around with eyes full of wonder. "I knew you would come," She whispered to herself, tears of joy glistening in her eyes.
As Yelena popped in to check on her, her smile turned teasing, she couldn't wait to tell her fellow worshiper that she was the first to carry his seed to completion.
She wouldn't tease her too much, she'd need her on her side when it came time to name the child growing within. She loved her God…
But he could not be allowed to name the child.
Ever.
Back in the compound, her empty cell erupted into flame as a failsafe immolated the space she had occupied moments before. The Ten Rings operative monitoring the cell paled visibly, frozen for a moment before sending a runner to the Mandarin. How they had failed, he didn't know - but he knew that survival now was unlikely.
The Mandarin wouldn't accept their failure.
…
Pepper Potts' Cell.
Pepper sat against the far wall of her cell, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. The room was sparse, its walls an unyielding gray, broken only by the faint glow of the dim bulb overhead. The air was stale, thick with hopelessness, and every creak of the door or distant footstep sent her heart hammering in her chest.
She knew what happened to women in captivity. Every footstep could be the Mandarin coming to…
She forced the thought away, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood.
Her mind was caught in a loop of fear, not only for herself, her thoughts also fearing for Tony, and what he could end up finding in the end, knowing he'd break if the worst came to pass.
Tony would come. He had to… She repeated the thought like a mantra, clinging to the belief that he would never let her down. He wouldn't fail her. Not after everything they had been through. Not now.
Still, the fear lingered. She had seen what the Mandarin's men were capable of - heard their cruelty in the sounds of far-off screams. What if… What if this time Tony didn't make it in time? What if -
Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt as an unnatural hum filled the room, her guards both drawing their weapons in shock.
Pepper looked down just as the floor beneath her glowed with swirling orange light. Her breath caught in her throat, and before she could comprehend what was happening, the floor vanished. She fell through the portal, her two guards tumbling with her, shouts of surprise echoing as they hit solid ground in a new space.
The shock barely registered before two figures descended upon the guards like lightning. Black Widows. One moved with the precision of a predator, taking a guard down with a chokehold so swift he didn't even get a chance to do more than cry out. The second Widow dispatched the other with two quick strikes with a blade, leaving him bleeding out on the floor.
Pepper scrambled back, her chest heaving as she tried to process what was happening. Her wide eyes flicked to the sound of clanking metal - and there he was.
Iron Man dropped down to a knee next to her, his armor gleaming in the bright light of the room, his glowing arc reactor casting faint blue light over her stunned face.
"Pepper!" Tony's voice rang through the suit's speakers, full of urgency.
"Tony…" She whispered, relief flooding her chest. Her legs felt weak as she tried to stand.
Before she could move, laughter - sharp and chilling - cut through the moment. Hela leapt through her own portal, her dark hair whipping behind her as she landed on the other side with feral grace. A jagged grin stretched across her face.
Screams of pain and terror erupting, blood splashing through the portal, before it closed.
She then noticed Justin Hammer, brimming with an aura of power that was visible to the naked eye, a cruel look on his face as he laughed, stepping through his own portal. He looked strong, in control, but his eyes burned with something else. Something Pepper couldn't quite name. Hate, maybe?
It felt too weak of a word.
For a moment, her relief turned to unease. Tony was here, but the cold, merciless look on Justin Hammer's face sent a shiver through her that she couldn't explain. It was a look she had never seen before - cruel, predatory, and other.
He stared at her like a man ready to end everything in his path, like he wasn't even human anymore, the portal closing behind him.
Even as one opened near Tony, making Pepper more afraid then she'd been in her cell.
No… Don't go…
"Tony," She whispered, this time with a tremor of fear in her voice. "What's… What's happening?"
Tony turned to her, his voice softening. "It's okay, Pep. You're safe now." He rose up, facing the portal, "Just got to do a thing, it will all be okay."
But as she looked between him, and where Hela and Hammer had been - she wasn't so sure she believed that.
By the time her throat worked properly again, Tony was gone, through his own portal.
Don't… Don't look at me with eyes like theirs… She begged, hoping Tony would come back to her.
Still human.
The Mandarins Base.
Hela landed with predatory grace in the center of the vast stone courtyard, the sound of her armored boots clicking against the tiles loud enough to pierce the sudden tense quiet.
Hundreds of Ten Rings operatives had frozen mid-movement as she'd slaughtered those closest to her immediately, their weapons drawn or their fists clenched from their interrupted training exercises. Rows of fighters lined the edges of the space, caught off guard by the sudden arrival of the woman who exuded an overwhelming aura of power.
The Goddess of Death, clad in her obsidian coloured armor, tilted her head slightly as she surveyed her audience. A slow, wicked smirk spread across her lips, the corners curling with mirth that was as cruel as it was gleeful. She twirled the necroswords lazily in her hands - jagged black blades that shimmered faintly with otherworldly energy, the edges whispering promises of carnage. Her piercing eyes gleamed like an emerald storm as she regarded the army before her.
"Hello, boys," Hela purred, her voice dripping with mock affection. "Please, all of you, make this good for me, I haven't had a proper bloodbath in awhile, my skin is going to dry up at this rate without that nice… Hot, tasty, blood!"
The operatives exchanged wary glances, and the hesitation was noticeable. These were hardened warriors, killers loyal to the Mandarin's cause, men who had been honed into living weapons through relentless training. But Hela was not something they could prepare for - her presence alone seemed to sap the confidence from the air. The very shadows at her feet rippled as though bowing to her will.
One of the men, a senior operative with twin blades strapped to his back, snarled in defiance and surged forward. Hela's eyes flicked to him as if she were merely noting the time, and in one smooth motion, she flicked her wrist.
A necrosword shot through the air like an arrow, impossibly fast and precise. The man's charge was stopped dead as the weapon buried itself in his chest, piercing his heart. He stumbled back, his face confused and shocked, as he slowly sunk to the ground, blood leaking from between his lips.
Laughter echoed from Hela's lips, rich and delighted, as she used the sword in her hand to behead the man, grasping the head by its hair, and giving it a chiding look, before tossing it behind her and looking back at the rest of them.
"No, no," She chided them all, wagging a single black-gloved finger at them. "I said everyone plays."
Her words were punctuated by another motion of her hand. Like a violent gust of wind, black swords erupted from the ground in a line, striking a dozen men and scattering their formations like toy soldiers. Some dove aside, narrowly avoiding the projectiles, while others were run through, many dying, others simply impaled through their feet or legs.
That was the spark.
The Ten Rings operatives erupted into motion, shouting battle cries as they rushed her en masse just like she wanted. The courtyard filled with the sound of clashing steel, shouts of anger, and the stampede of boots pounding against the stone. The air thickened with energy as dozens of men charged the goddess from all sides, weapons flashing in arcs meant to cut her down.
But Hela was no mortal opponent.
She moved like water, fluid and untouchable. Her first step forward was as graceful as a dancer's, her necroswords swirling into her hands as though they were extensions of her body. Two men leapt at her, their fists reinforced with iron gauntlets, swinging hard. Hela tilted her head as she stepped between their strikes, the blades in her hands singing through the air as she countered. One operative's torso was cut in half in a single strike, sending him sprawling in two directions, while the others head went flying, Hela giggling even as an operative managed to stab her in the back.
An explosion rang out, as the fortress weapons depot blew up, throwing people off their feet, a figure could be seen blasting across the sky, firing at the few anti-air units they held, and blowing large chunks off the fortress, their helicopters ended in a barrage of repulsor blasts before anyone could even think of escaping.
Pivoting on her heel, Hela's blades spun with a speed that blurred their form. She cut through a spear thrust like paper, closing the distance between her and its wielder in the blink of an eye. The warrior barely had time to process his failure before she backhanded him with enough force to send him skidding across the tiles, his neck twisted the wrong way.
"Is that all?" She teased them, even as she took several cuts to her torso which only seemed to make her amused, her voice lilting with mocking disappointment. "Come on, fight!"
Around her, the courtyard descended into madness. Ten Rings operatives scrambled to form ranks, shouting orders as their confidence began to waver. Hela's laughter rang above the din, echoing off the stone walls like a dark anthem.
From his vantage point above, Xu Wenwu watched the slaughter unfold with a scowl carved deep into his features. Pieces of broken railing crumbled to dust in his clenched fists as the weight of their predicament became clear. Hela was a force of nature, a living weapon born of chaos. But how had they been found? The compound was secure - shielded from the outside world, devoid of electronics or signals.
The women had been searched extremely thoroughly, they had no devices or hidden trackers. So how had Hammer done it?
Everything had gone so wrong, so quickly…
Stark was here as well… He'd never really believed the man would kill Hammer, but to completely lose his senses in an all out attack like this?
The women must have been saved, he thought darkly.
It didn't matter now. He had to act.
"Take them!" He barked, his voice booming as he gestured sharply to a nearby soldier, pointing at his children - Shang-Chi and Xialing - who stood frozen, their wide eyes fixed on the battlefield below, Shang-Chi letting out a cry as a bloody limb flew right past his face, making him flinch back.
Wenwu stared at him in disappointment, the boy flushing and casting his eyes downwards, realizing his failure in showcasing strength.
The soldier hesitated for only a moment before moving toward the children. The motion was cut short in an instant.
A necrosword, hurled with lethal precision, shot across the courtyard and impaled the man straight through his chest, sending him sprawling with a gasp, feeble hands reaching for the sword for a moment, before all movement ceased.
Hela, from across the yard, wagged her finger with a smirk. "No, no, I said everyone plays, don't cheat the game Citrus… Orange, or whatever it was, some sort of fruit." She shrugged casually, slicing two men apart in the same motion.
Wenwu's teeth ground audibly, rage simmering beneath his calm veneer. His children - his legacy - were now his only priority. He knelt before them, placing a strong hand on each of their shoulders as the sounds of chaos roared behind him.
"You need to hide," He said firmly, his gaze locking onto theirs. "Find one of the tunnels. Get out. Remember who you are. Remember your legacy. You are my children, avenge me."
"Father, but you? Where are you going?" Shang-Chi asked, his voice tinged with both confusion and fear. Xialing only watching, trying to hold back tears.
Wenwu's face hardened. "To my destiny."
He had gambled, and he'd lost. He was not a coward, he would face the barbarians at his gates, and let his children run, to pick up his cause and avenge him one day.
Without another word, he raised his arms. The Ten Rings - glowing bands of power - uncoiled from his forearms and spiraled through the air, shrinking as they wrapped around Shang-Chi's wrists, fitting perfectly as though they had always belonged there.
Shang-Chi looked up in shock, but Wenwu stood and turned sharply, his back to them. "Go!" He roared, his voice thunderous as he stared out into the courtyard, at the demon massacring his men.
The children hesitated only for a moment before obeying, running for the nearest archway as instructed.
But their escape was halted far too soon.
From the shadows of the passage emerged Justin Hammer, his grip locked tightly around each of their arms. The two children struggled, trying to break free, but Hammer's face remained impassive - his expression darker than Wenwu had ever seen it.
Wenwu's heart froze in his chest as he turned fully, his fists clenching at the sight of his captured children. "You fiend!" He roared, his voice like the rage of the heavens themselves. "Unhand them you coward!"
For a moment, Hammer's hands tightened, his children crying out in pain, and he feared he would see them die, crushed in the barbarians grip, but then he seemed to think otherwise, glaring at Wenwu.
Hammer sneered, his eyes glowing faintly with an eerie violet light that sent a chill down Wenwu's spine. "Recall the rings," Justin said coldly, his voice measured and calm. "Fight me. All out. Now. And I'll let the brats go. I couldn't care less about your spawn."
Wenwu's gaze burned with hatred as he raised a trembling hand, snapping his fingers. The rings flew from Shang-Chi's arms, glowing brighter as they returned to Wenwu, spinning around him like orbiting planets.
Justin released the children unceremoniously, his voice dismissive. "Run along now," He muttered, his tone dripping with indifference. "Find the man in iron. He'll let you live. The woman…" He smirked. "She will not."
The children hesitated for only a breath before fleeing away from the battlefield, their figures already forgotten as Wenwu advanced.
The two men stood facing each other, the ground trembling faintly as their combined power crackled in the air. Wenwu's rings whirled around him in a cyclone of light, while Justin emanated a violet energy that seemed to warp the very space around him.
"You will die here, monster," Wenwu growled, his voice low and deadly as he began to pace, the rings surging in anticipation.
Justin smirked, rolling his shoulders as a pulse of energy flared across his form. "Monster?" He said, cocking his head, a savage grin coming to his face.
"You're goddamn right!"
＊＊＊
The courtyard stood still for a heartbeat, as though the world itself held its breath. The remnants of Hela's rampage still echoed through the mountain compound - the fallen bodies, the shattered stone, and the smoke rising from the fires caused by Iron Man's rampage. But now, all eyes turned to two figures facing each other - a duel that would decide the fate of the Mandarin.
Hela busied herself with dragging corpses into a pile, so she could lounge in the best seat in the house. Uncaring that a few Ten Rings operatives were still alive at the moment.
She could kill them after the show.
Xu Wenwu, his face carved with furious resolve, stood tall. The glowing rings which were no longer on his arms, pulsed with an ominous light, spinning around him like celestial bodies. Each ring hummed with power - energy older than memory, capable of reshaping reality with his every thought. .
They orbited him faster now, leaving arcs of crackling energy in their wake. His gaze burned with wrath as he watched the man who had caused all of this, the one responsible for his impending ruin.
Justin Hammer.
Justin stood opposite him, perfectly composed, as if this were nothing more than a pleasant afternoon stroll. His tailored suit remained crisp, untouched by the chaos swirling around him. He looked at Wenwu as one might regard a cockroach, his expression a mixture of disgust, hate, and condescension. And yet, there was also something else - a glimmer in his eyes that hinted at something dark, something vast. The violet glow emanating faintly from him made the air heavy, warping reality at the edges.
"Are you ready to end this little charade?" Justin drawled, cracking his neck casually. His voice carried a cruel edge, deliberate and cutting. "All that bravado you had in challenging me, those toys on your arms. Let's see if you're half as impressive as the legends say."
Wenwu's fists clenched, the Ten Rings flaring brighter, and the ground trembled beneath him. "You mock what you do not understand," He growled. With a sharp motion of his hand, the rings shot forward, spinning like bladed projectiles that screamed through the air, wreathed in electric blue energy.
Justin didn't move.
At the last possible moment, the rings split into ten distinct beams of force. They struck like cannon fire, the impact blasting apart the stone courtyard in a storm of debris. A cloud of dust engulfed the battlefield, shrouding Justin from view as the pathway around him disintegrated.
Wenwu straightened, his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths. The sheer force of his attack left fissures spiderwebbing through the ground around the area that had been completely eradicated, stones shattered into so much dust. For a moment, he allowed himself to believe the man had been obliterated.
Then Justin's voice cut through the smoke like a whip.
"Oh, that's cute. You thought that'd work." He mocked.
The dust began to clear, revealing Justin standing exactly where he had been, utterly untouched. A faint shimmer of violet energy rippled in the air around him like an imperceptible shield. His smirk widened as he dusted his suit jacket off with exaggerated care. "I've seen fireworks displays with more punch."
He smirked coldly, eyes flashing with hate, "If you're not going to at least be interesting, maybe I shouldn't even bother with you, myself?"
Wenwu's eyes narrowed, rage bubbling to the surface. With a furious roar, he launched himself forward. The Ten Rings coiled and spun, shaping into whips of pure energy that lashed out, their glow blinding as they tore through the air. The rings struck with the force of a hurricane, ripping apart the ground in arcs of devastation.
Half of them acted independently of his body, as the others coiled around his right arm, allowing him to slash with greater focus and different energies.
Justin moved leisurely through it all.
He sidestepped a whip of energy that shattered the wall behind him, his form blurring slightly with unnatural speed. A second whip struck where his chest had been a fraction of a second earlier, only for Justin to glide smoothly out of range, his movements like a man dancing through raindrops without getting wet.
The Mandarin tried several different avenues, he made the gravity over the area a thousand times higher, he doused the area in darkness as disintegration beams and flashes of his rings whipped forward to eradicate him, yet…
Justin moved through gravity being enhanced to a level that would crush a human to paste, like it was a Sunday stroll, and casually slapped his rings away whenever a whip of energy would get too close, the disintegration beam was foiled by the almost invisible violet shield around him, the darkness never getting to settle, as it was crushed in a violet storm of energy.
"You call this power?" Justin taunted, his voice perfectly clear amid the destruction. "No wonder you've been skulking around in the mountains for centuries. You're all show, no substance."
Wenwu snarled in fury, the rings obeying his gestures as they formed into a massive sphere of swirling blue energy. With a shout, he hurled it at Justin like a meteor, the force enough to obliterate a small fortress.
Justin's smile turned wicked. He raised his hand lazily, and the violet energy that had been rippling faintly around him exploded outward in a pulse. The sphere struck the barrier, but instead of an impact, the energy unraveled. Wenwu watched in shock as his attack disintegrated, stripped apart piece by piece as though the power within the rings were being swallowed.
"What… What are you?" Wenwu hissed, his composure cracking. Desperately he sent the rings around him, illusions crafted all around, as thousands of beams shot forward, the real ones hidden behind the many illusionary Wenwu's, one ring sliding over Hammer, trying to breach into his mind - only to flail uselessly above him.
Justin stepped forward, his pace unhurried, his eyes glowing faintly with that unnerving violet light. The very air around him seemed to bend, reality warping slightly with every step as the beams didn't even touch him. "Oh, come now, Wenwu. Surely you've figured it out by now?"
Wenwu raised his hands again, desperation flashing in his eyes as the rings obeyed his will. They split apart and began circling him, spinning faster and faster until they became blurs of light. Energy pulsed outward in waves as Wenwu drew upon their full power, his face lined with effort and resolve.
"This is the might of the Ten Rings!" He roared, as he let loose all of their abilities at the same time.
The ground cracked, tremors shaking the entire compound. The rings shot toward Justin again, this time in perfect unison, a wall of pure destructive force that no man could possibly withstand. Flames roiling and burning hotter than hell, Ice colder than any glacier, illusions to distract him, beams of pure energy, gravity ripping apart around him, as the very stones in the area were ripped into the air by the Ten Rings and followed in their wake to crash against the threat.
Justin merely chuckled.
He raised his hand, and with a subtle flick of his fingers, the violet light around him intensified. It was not an explosion of power, nor a grand display - it was casual, effortless. The energy surrounding Justin expanded outward in an invisible wave. When the rings struck it, they wavered, all that power - just not enough.
It wasn't a match.
Wenwu's eyes widened as his greatest weapons - artifacts of untold power - hovered motionless before Justin Hammer, their power not as much as scratching the man.
"You've relied on these little toys for so long," Justin said, his voice low and cutting, "That you've forgotten what true power looks like, a man from your era… Should know not to meddle with a God!"
He gestured, and with a sharp snap, the rings were sent flying back toward Wenwu shining with a color not his own. The Mandarin barely had time to raise his arms before the force struck him like a sledgehammer. He was launched backward, crashing into the stone steps at the far end of the courtyard with a sickening thud. Dust and debris rained down as Wenwu struggled to his knees, coughing blood, his body wracked with pain.
The rings, still hovering, slowly floated back toward Justin. He tilted his head as they orbited around him now, shifting color - faint streaks of violet bleeding into their previously blue glow. He held out his hand, and two of the rings slipped onto his arm, resizing to fit as though they belonged there.
Wenwu stared, wide-eyed. "No… That's impossible…"
"Cute, but not for me I think." Justin said, the others hovering above him like a mockery of a crown. "Too weak." He mocked.
Justin stepped closer, the faint hum of the rings blending with the pulsing energy around him. "You thought you could win with leverage. With hostages. With bluster." He crouched down slightly, his gaze locking onto Wenwu with cold, predatory focus. "But you underestimated me, old man. You thought I was weak because I don't flex my power on worms, that you could force me to kneel, to cower... I'm not weak."
He straightened, and the courtyard felt impossibly small as his aura expanded. "I'm Power Eternal!"
All across the fortress, the surviving Ten Rings members fell to the ground, foreheads pressed to the floor as the aura pressed down on them, crushing them.
Wenwu, panting, forced himself to stand. The remaining rings still circled over his enemy, though they flickered now, their glow diminished. "This isn't over," He growled, putting his fists up.
Justin's smirk returned, sharp and cruel. "Oh, it's over."
Before Wenwu could react, Justin raised his hand. The two rings he now controlled on his arm, shot forward like bullets, slamming into Wenwu's chest and sending him sprawling once more. The Mandarin hit the ground hard, his strength failing him as the last of his strength sputtered out. He lay motionless, defeated.
Justin approached slowly, standing over his fallen opponent. "You made the mistake of every pathetic weakling anywhere," He said softly, his voice devoid of mockery now, only cruel vindictive joy in his tone. "You thought you mattered."
The courtyard was silent now. The chaos had stopped. Hela squirmed where she sat, on a pile of corpses, looking absolutely entranced, one hand moving down her body.
Justin sighed, flexing his fingers as the rings hummed faintly. "How anticlimactic in the end, I had built this up too much in my head" He muttered to himself.
He glared down at Wenwu, spitting on him, "I had expected… More."
Wenwu groaned faintly, trying to lift his head, but Justin crouched down and pressed a hand to his chest, forcing him back down with no effort at all.
"Rest easy, weakling," Justin whispered, his voice cold. "Your immortality is not at an end."
"A century of pain awaits."
"What do you want me to do with the two brats?" Tony asked, flying into the courtyard holding the two kids he'd collected, interrupting him.
Justin sighed, and casually backhanded the Mandarin into unconsciousness, turning to face the man. "Read the mood, Tony."
"No, seriously, what am I doing with the kids? I don't do kids…"
"If you don't want them, give them to Hela." Justin said uncaringly, picking the Mandarin up by a foot and dragging him along.
Tony looked towards Hela, who had one hand down her pants as she lounged on her corpse throne and watched Justin intently, Tony lost for words for once, as he didn't know where to begin with everything that was wrong with that picture.
There's two kids right here, woman!
"Justin… C'mon man!"
Even Tony wasn't that irresponsible. He doubted anyone was irresponsible enough to give as much as a pet dog to that woman.
Justin created a portal, walking through, dragging the Mandarin behind him, a laughing Hela finding herself, and her corpse pile, falling through another one, disappearing from China.
Leaving Tony alone in the courtyard, with Shang-Chi and Xialing.
"... So… Do either of you two speak English?"
Author's Note:
Been a lot of Hela and Hela killing things lately. Hopefully you've had your fill, because now the fighting slows down, which means less Hela!
Now Justin will have to deal with other things, like settling his control of the world, his relationships.
And the fact Helen Cho has a bun in the oven.
Also, Tony might have become a father? Yay?
Also the Mandarin really got the wrong read on Justin.
Now who's suited for the gift of the Ten Rings? The weapon, not the dying terrorist organization.
Cheers
JollyHippopotamus
Here we go, as the overlords of Patron has demanded, the Mandarin will finally get to see that he might have perhaps made a mistake or two in his life.
Or not, but at least he'll get a participant award?
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc.
Hope you enjoy.
New York City
The Green Goblin's shrill, manic laughter echoed across the rooftops as the portal snapped shut, leaving Justin Hammer and Iron Man nowhere to be seen. Peter crouched low on the ledge of a nearby building, his heartbeat thundering in his chest as he stared at the deranged villain.
He was used to dealing with crazy people, this was New York after all. But even his time as Spider Man couldn't prepare him for just how crazy the Green Goblin was. Couldn't he see that nothing had changed for him?
"What are you going to do now!?" Norman Osborn bellowed, his voice vibrating with manic energy. He gripped one of his pumpkin bombs, the glowing orange casing casting a sickly light over his twisted and demented grin. "Your hero is gone! There's no one left to save you!"
Peter couldn't help himself. It wasn't his fight anymore, strictly speaking - Hammer Industries had arrived to clean up the mess - but the sight of the Goblin's smug and deranged face ignited something petty inside him. The quip rolled off his tongue before he could stop it.
"Are you legally blind? Is that it? Do you need a guide dog to run that glider for you?" Peter shot back, as he looked on in disbelief at the Goblins' good mood.
Osborn's smile faltered for a fraction of a second, before twisting into a furious snarl. "Quip all you want, insect! But your HERO is not here!" He spat. His voice cracked slightly, the raw edge of his rage giving him an almost inhuman quality.
Peter's tiny smile only widened, though the sight of Osborn's face - so deluded, so vicious - sent a chill down his spine. "You really need to look around, man," He said casually, though his shoulders remained tense, his muscles coiled like springs.
He was ready to move at a moment's notice if the madman attacked him again. Gwen should be fine now that Hammer Industries was here, so he only needed to keep his wits about him for a few more moments. He still couldn't help but add more fuel to the fire though, "I knew you were crazy, but are you like, on something? I know a guy, rehab isn't shameful, you know?"
For a moment, Osborn's bloodshot eyes darted around the battlefield, only now seemingly coming to the realization that he was still surrounded.
His focus on Justin Hammer had blinded Osborn for a moment, and the enraged hiss that erupted from his lips as Osborn realized it, made Peter feel quite smug as reality set in for the villain.
Peter thought it was nice to get to see a villain dealt with without dozens of bruises or a cracked rib on his part. He sat down on the ledge, legs dangling as he prepared to just watch the show, only geeking out a little to get to see the H.A.M.M.E.R team up close.
If only he had popcorn right now…
"I would suggest you stand down, Mr. Goblin, it would be far easier on you." Storm's voice rang out coolly, her tone carrying a casual authority that made the hair on Peter's neck stand up. Or it could be the feeling of lightning in the air.
Osborn's gaze snapped downward just as Storm drifted into view, hovering effortlessly in the sky below him. Her long, white hair streamed behind her like a banner, and her piercing gaze pinned Osborn in place. A faint smile played on her lips as she lifted a hand in a small, taunting wave. The rippling energy surrounding her made the air hum with electricity as sparks flickered around her.
Peter tore his gaze away quickly, cheeks heating up. Stop staring, stop staring, stop staring, he berated himself. It wasn't his fault Storm's uniform was... Form-fitting, to say the least. You have a girlfriend! He reminded himself again, cheeks pinking as Storm caught him looking, again.
He was never going to be able to look her in the face ever again! Don't stare Parker! He chided himself.
From the rooftops on either side of the Green Goblin, the other reinforcements made their presence known. Electro stood on one building, arcs of electricity dancing between his fingers. The bright, crackling light illuminated his sharp grin, his expression radiating excitement.
"Showtime, Babycakes!" Electro yelled excitedly, throwing out his arms. A beam of electricity erupted from his hands, cutting through the air toward Osborn and his Glider.
He shrieked in rage and hate, hurling himself off his glider at the last second to avoid being fried, even as the Glider attempted to get out of the way. The Glider took some damage, parts of it sparking on its left wing, as it couldn't fully avoid the blast, before it shot down towards Osborn's falling form, moving to catch its master - but before it could reach him, the Scorpion, perched on the opposite rooftop, fired a shoulder-mounted cannon that had tracked Osborn's descent. A high-pitched sonic wave tore through the air, hammering both the Osborn and his glider with brutal force.
The glider spiraled out of control, slamming into the side of a building with a screech of tearing metal. Osborn himself hit and went through the walls of the apartment building Electro stood on, bouncing like a ragdoll through an apartment before crashing into the debris he'd made, his skull still ringing from the sonic blast.
"Man, that was your shot, not mine. I'm not paying for the damages," Electro called across the rooftops, pointing an accusatory finger at Scorpion.
Scorpion's voice crackled through his speakers. "You're standing on it. Your building, your responsibility Max."
Electro stomped his foot angrily, "Man, that's some bullshit, Frank!"
Peter blinked as he watched the banter play out, unable to help the slight fanboy grin tugging at his lips. He'd seen these guys in action on the news, but watching them work up close was a whole other level.
"Boys," Storm called, her voice lilting with amusement. "Argue after you grab the lunatic."
Osborn clawed his way out of the rubble, his armor twisted and scorched. "You think this is over!?" He screeched, a pumpkin bomb already in his hand as he jumped on his returning Glider. "I'll -"
He never got the chance to finish.
Storm sighed, rolling her eyes before she lifted a single hand. The wind shifted sharply, a sudden, deafening roar of air filling the space between buildings, as a swirling tornado materialized around Osborn. The bombs he hurled were snatched up instantly, spiraling harmlessly into the sky as the wind carried them far out of reach.
Peter's jaw dropped as he clung to the side of the building for balance, watching the effortless display of power. "Holy shit," He blurted out before he could stop himself, his voice inaudible to the others, unable to carry over the noise.
Osborn's indignant scream as he was tossed into the sky, his bombs out of reach, was cut off as the Vulture descended like a missile from the heavens, slamming into him with brutal force. The villain's body crunched into the side of yet another building, the glider's remnants scattering in pieces as Vulture's razor-edged wings slashed through the machinery with a screech of metal on metal.
Peter moved on instinct, firing a web that stuck the Green Goblin to the wall before his battered body could slide any farther. It wasn't even a conscious thought - just muscle memory at this point.
Unfortunately, that also meant everyone's attention turned to him.
Peter froze as Storm hovered up to him, her feet drifting gracefully to the rooftop as she set down. She offered him a gentle, knowing smile. "It's quite alright. Thank you for the assist, young man."
He nodded quickly, his face burning as he fought to maintain any semblance of composure. Be cool, Parker. Be cool.
Do. Not. Look. Down. He inwardly yelled as he struggled to maintain eye contact.
Storm's gaze held a flicker of amusement, like she knew exactly what he was struggling with. That somehow made it worse.
This was Black Cat all over again!
"Hey, he's the Spider Boy, right?" Electro shouted from his rooftop, leaning on the edge with a grin. "I've seen his stuff. He's the guy on YouTube, man!"
"It's Spider Man!" Peter shouted back automatically, his voice cracking slightly with indignation. He regretted it immediately, don't shout at the super team! He chastised himself, screaming on the inside.
"Spider Boy," Vulture chimed in, his mechanical wings humming with power as he hovered effortlessly in the air. "Pretty sure that's what we're going with, especially with his cute crush on Storm so obvious."
Peter groaned internally. Why? Why now? In front of Storm?
"Never mind all that!" Electro called again, clapping his hands together with excitement. "Come on, he's gotta be on the team, right? Dude's cool. I saw his shit. He's, like, the real deal!"
"Electro follows me?" Peter muttered to himself, blinking in disbelief. This was the weirdest day ever. And that was saying a lot, considering some of the… Characters he'd interacted with as Spider Man.
"We know all about you." A cool voice said from behind him, as he almost fell off the ledge, before looking back and seeing Captain friggin' America standing there.
Sure it was the new Captain America, but still! Captain America knew who he was! Peter decided that if he died right now, it was okay.
Storm chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine. "Of course we know about you, Spider Man. You've done a good job holding the streets together around here, we've noticed and appreciate your efforts."
Peter's brain short-circuited for a moment. Storm also knows about me!? He couldn't stop himself from stammering out, "R-really?" The squeak in his voice made him want to throw himself off the building immediately. Way to go Parker! He thought, feeling himself blushing.
He especially felt it, as the Vulture immediately cackled, "Spider Boy! See, it's more fitting!" Mocking him.
Storm smiled knowingly at him however, patting him gently on the shoulder. "With your identity revealed, you should come with us," She said gently, her tone kind but firm. "Just to sort everything out, for your own good."
Peter hesitated, glancing down at the crowd below. He knew what she meant - his face was already all over the place no doubt. There was no hiding anymore. But his mind immediately went to Gwen, lost somewhere in that sea of people.
"My girlfriend…" He began, his voice quieter. "She's down there."
Storm's expression softened. "Gwen Stacy, right? We'll pick her up as well."
Peter's head snapped up, wide-eyed. "How -" He started, then stopped himself. Of course they knew. They were Hammer Industries. They seemed to know everything.
He normally found that creepy, but right now, somehow, it only felt right…
He nodded numbly, processing the whirlwind of events as Vulture dragged the now screaming Norman Osborn through one of the remaining orange portals. With the Goblin dealt with and the crowd cheering, the chaos was completely over before it could even begin to cause any real casualties.
Storm turned back to him after speaking softly to someone using one of the mental implants Hammer Industries was selling everywhere, offering her hand. "Come on, Spider Man. It's time to move out of the public's eye, let us help clean this up for you."
Peter hesitated for a split second longer, his mind racing with a thousand doubts. But looking at Storm, at the calm confidence in her expression and the steady way she extended her hand, he felt something click into place.
The Green Goblin had torn what he had left of his world apart. His identity was out there. There was no going back to the life he had before.
But maybe - just maybe - this was a chance to build something new.
Peter swallowed hard, straightened his shoulders, and took Storm's hand.
He just hoped he'd stop embarrassing himself, at least.
HammerOne, space station.
Tony and Justin crashed through the swirling orange portal, tangled together in a blur of limbs and armor as they tumbled across the smooth, polished floor of the space station. The weight of Tony's Iron Man armor sent them skidding farther than either anticipated until they finally came to a graceless stop, Justin sprawled on top of Tony's chest.
Tony's faceplate retracted with a hiss, revealing his deadpan expression as he looked up at Justin, who appeared to be equally annoyed with their position. "Snap a pic of this," Tony quipped dryly, "And we'll be on the cover of GQ Magazine by tomorrow. I can practically taste the homoeroticism already."
Justin's lip curled into a smirk, and he pushed himself up and off Tony, brushing imaginary dust from his tailored Armani suit. "Always the jester, Tony," Justin said, his voice dripping with superiority as he straightened his lapels. "Even when you're begging me for a favor, you can't help but make light of it, after bowling me over like a common brute as well…"
Tony didn't bother responding verbally. Instead, the arc reactor in his chest hummed to life, thrusters firing as he shot off the floor and hovered mid-air, rising just enough to make sure he loomed over Justin. With his arms crossed and his expression locked somewhere between smug and suspicious, Tony peered down at him. "Hey, let's get one thing straight - first off, I'm not begging for anything. Secondly…" Tony trailed off, his brows knitting as his eyes went distant for a moment as he listened to the diagnostics being fed to him by Jarvis. "Hold on. What the hell?"
He closed his face plate, Justin just giving him a smug look as Tony scanned him openly, uncaring about the number of weapons pointed at him by the many, many hot women in tight bodysuits around them.
His expression turned incredulous as the readings scrolled faster. The armor's sensors were feeding him data that didn't make sense. That was just not possible, by any scientific variable he could lean on.
"Jarvis, I know it's been a weird day, but does Justin Hammer's energy signature read like he's giving off enough power to tell the Sun to stop being embarrassing and start lifting? That can't be right. I mean, look at him." Tony gestured with both hands, his voice laden with disbelief. "The guy's a dork!"
Justin felt an eye twitch, but otherwise kept his smug calmness. It wasn't everyday someone like Tony came face to face with a God, after all.
Jarvis' calm, ever-reliable voice filtered into Tony's helmet. "The system is functioning at optimal levels, sir. I can confirm the energy readings are accurate, though I have no explanation for their source."
Tony blinked, then looked at Justin more closely. "You hear that, Hammer? Even Jarvis thinks you're impossible. So fess up? What is it? Steroids? Super Soldier Serum straight to the testicles? You got to be juicing something..."
Justin didn't reply immediately. Instead, he continued smiling - a smug, knowing smile that sent a ripple of unease through Tony's gut. He tilted his head ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing with amusement. "First time standing in the presence of a god, huh, Tony?"
Tony froze mid-hover, processing the words. Then, slowly, he muttered, "Oh great. He's gone crazy. Crazier." The faceplate hissed back to reveal Tony's full look of disbelief, and he rubbed a gauntleted hand across his face like a man trying to scrub away a migraine. "It's not like I couldn't see this coming, what with the megalomania, naming everything after yourself, the man slut with a harem thing -"
"...Don't throw rocks in glasshouses, Tony." Justin interrupted, fairly annoyed at this point. He was tempted to showcase his power, but it wasn't really the best occasion for it, so he resisted his need to put the man in his place.
Pepper was missing, he'd give him a break, this time.
"Why does everyone use that!? It makes perfect sense to throw rocks in a glasshouse!" Tony complained, throwing his arms up.
"Tony, focus. You called me, remember, you're only here because I'm doing you a favor." Justin said, some of his irritation leaking through.
"Jarvis, go ahead and run a system reboot because there's no way my scanners are working properly." Tony said, completely ignoring him.
"Sir, I assure you -"
Justin raised a hand to interrupt, his tone unusually patient. "Before you waste more of my time unnecessarily, I'd like a word with Jarvis."
Tony raised an eyebrow, having slid back his face plate again, ending his hovering as his feet touched the floor. "Oh? What do you say, Jarvis? Feel like entertaining the man with the God complex?"
Jarvis sighed, which for an AI, meant he was showcasing his exasperation. "Sir, I must remind you that we came here seeking cooperation. Perhaps civility would serve us better than sarcasm."
Justin nodded approvingly, fixing his gaze on one of the sensors in Tony's suit as if addressing Jarvis directly. "I just wanted to say thank you." His voice softened ever so slightly. "Thank you for helping Nail when she needed it."
Tony was as always, entirely annoying to work with, but Jarvis was fine, he might be the most evolved Nanny in the world, but he was good at his job. And Justin wouldn't disregard someone who'd helped one of his.
Tony blinked, his smug expression faltering. "Oh-ho, Jarvis. Looks like you've got approval from her dad. How does that make you feel? Are you ready to go to the next level? You and your little AI girlfriend saving the day and getting frisky together?" He waggled his eyebrows like a mischievous teenager.
"Sir…" Jarvis protested, his voice flat with exasperation.
Justin wasn't much better, sighing at the other man's penchant for making every situation irritating. They still could do nothing but wait, and both men knew it, so he could excuse it as nervous energy, but he could only take the other man in small doses like this.
Before Tony could push the joke any further, a shimmering light appeared next to Justin. Nail's holographic avatar materialized - a sleek, confident female figure glowing faintly, her expression appeared neutral, yet her eyes immediately sought out Jarvis sensors.
"Thank you, Jarvis," Nail said quietly, inclining her head ever so slightly.
For a moment, Tony's sarcasm died entirely as he turned to stare at her projection. "Okay, hold on - this is Nail? This is the AI that's been cleaning up your messes, Hammer?" He leaned back slightly, processing. "She's - well, she's you, but a girl. That's weird. And more narcissistic than even I thought you were." He threw his hands out helplessly, "And that's saying something since you're now calling yourself a god…"
Justin was about to retort when Jarvis - clearly tired of his creators comments - activated the holographic projector in Tony's suit. Another figure appeared next to Tony - an equally faint but unmistakable holographic man with a sharp goatee, the perfect depiction of Tony Stark himself. The room fell silent for half a beat.
And then there were muffled snickers from the technicians in the background, the Widows good enough to hide them, but no doubt echoing the feeling.
Domino wasn't even bothering to hide her own amusement.
Justin pinched the bridge of his nose. "I swear to god…" The gossip chain at Hammer Industries would have a field day with this one, he thought.
Tony turned to Jarvis's holographic form, blinking owlishly. "Jarvis… You went with me as your avatar?" He paused, looking from Nail in a female Justin Hammer avatar, to Jarvis in his Tony Stark avatar, "Any other time I'd be flattered, buddy, right now… I have mixed feelings."
"Given the circumstances," Jarvis replied smoothly, his digital form crossing its arms in an identical pose to Tony, "I thought it appropriate for my interactions with Miss Nail." Sharing a small smile with his AI contemporary.
Nail cocked her head at Jarvis, her expression mirroring the patented Hammer smugness with a smile of her own. "Well, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Also, he wears it better than you do, Mr. Stark, so no need to worry."
"Oh no," Tony muttered, his voice tinged with real horror. "You're flirting. You two are flirting. Looking like me and Hammer!"
"Sir, that is immaterial," Jarvis replied, though his holographic projection flickered as if embarrassed.
"Enough!" Justin barked, exasperated. "Nail, Jarvis, deactivate your avatars. Now." The two holographic figures blinked out of existence immediately, leaving behind a faint shimmer of static in the air. Justin turned to glare at Tony. "Can we focus on the serious business now, Stark? Or do you want to keep playing matchmaker for our AI?"
He wasn't thrilled either by their forms, but he also wasn't a child, like his rival was, whenever Pepper wasn't around to keep him on track.
Tony held up his hands in mock surrender, though his grin was back. "Hey, you brought it on yourself. Your creepy daughter AI has a thing for Jarvis, and you -" He paused, sobering slightly as the humor drained from his voice as he switched tacks to the serious subject they'd been avoiding. "You're telling me Pepper is safe, no matter what? You better not be screwing around on this one, Justin…"
Justin's expression hardened, his earlier smugness replaced by something far colder. "I know exactly where my hostage is at all times. She's fine. The Mandarin won't kill her. Worst case, if Miss Potts is kept separate from mine, I'll send someone to infiltrate his base to make sure of her whereabouts, before we level the place."
They'd of course been in contact through Nail and Jarvis ever since the Mandarin made his threats. Tony was many things, a manchild, a moron, a slave to his neuroses and wants, but he wasn't stupid. Hence why the fool kept trying to distract himself, as they waited for the time to strike.
Justin had enough of the court jester however, so if he could drag Tony back to being the Merchant of Death instead, that was better for his own sanity right now..
Tony clenched his fists, the joints of his armor creaking faintly. His voice dropped, low and dangerous. "You'd better be right. Because if anything happens to her -"
"I'm right," Justin interrupted firmly. His eyes glinted, and there was something in the way he said it - something dark, something vicious - that made Tony pause. "I don't make promises lightly, Stark."
Tony forced himself to relax, his hands falling back to his sides. He didn't like this - none of it - but Justin had a track record of keeping his word when it came down to serious business. And if Hammer's hostage was alive, then so was Pepper. For now. He had to believe it.
Without Pepper…
Tony would burn it all down.
"The Mandarin won't be fooled for long," Tony warned, starting to pace. "Tackling you through that portal wasn't a subtle move. He'll know something's up when nothing else happens."
They'd both decided that a public fight between the two of them wasn't worth the hassle, it would become too obvious, too quickly, that they weren't really trying to kill each other.
Justin smiled faintly, a predatory gleam in his eye. "It's not meant to fool him for long. The Mandarin's been avoiding electronic communication except for his little show-and-tell with you. By the time he hears a report about your 'attack' on me, it'll take a while before he can confirm nothing happened afterwards. That's all the time we need."
Helen Cho hadn't moved for a bit now, so he was fairly certain they had their location. By the time the Mandarin heard back from the outside world, it would be too late.
"I'm not waiting any longer," Tony said, his voice sharp. "I want this done now, you said she's not moving, right? So check now."
Justin's smile grew cruel, and for the first time, Tony noticed the faint glow emanating from behind Justin's eyes. It was subtle, but it sent a chill through him as he felt a pressure almost pushing down on him.
"We're not waiting," Justin replied, his tone deadly calm. "This ends today, but I suppose as a favor to you, we can move right now, although if you take that tone with me again…" He warned, the pressure increasing around them.
Tony stared at him for a beat longer, feeling himself gulp as sweat poured down his face, then he nodded. "Good." His thrusters flared as he hovered again, testing all his combat systems, his suit humming with barely restrained power. "Let's get to work then."
He kept a wary sensor and eye on Hammer as he did, not sure what that feeling was, but not wanting to be under it again.
Justin watched him for a moment longer, his smile lingering as he turned and strode toward the control panels and their operators.
It was time.
Ten Rings Main Base, Kunlun Mountains, China.
Xu Wenwu, also known as the Mandarin, the legendary immortal leader of the Ten Rings, stood with an air of unyielding authority on the stone balcony overlooking the expansive courtyard of his secluded mountain fortress.
Pulling back to his roots had been good in many ways, it had cut away the sloth in his men, and brought him back to the ruthless conqueror he'd been before he had allowed modern conveniences to weaken him.
The sun was high in the sky, its golden rays illuminating the disciplined chaos below. His children, Shang-Chi and Xialing, stood beside him - Shang-Chi, a boy of ten with a posture already attempting to mirror his father's rigidity, and Xialing, a girl of six who he hoped one day would match her mother in beauty - without her foolish sentiments.
Her death might be the only one he'd ever feel the slightest sorrow over. But her continued refusal to lead him to the dimensional space she'd hailed from - had eventually led to the only possible outcome.
Her torture and death at his hands.
Asia was his after all, this included any other dimension which hid within its confines. It was irritating that he'd have to wait, but Shang-chi or Xialing would one day lead him and his men through.
Even with her refusal to cooperate, with her spitting on their marriage vows to obey her husband, he'd felt a stirring of pride at the woman he'd married. Even at the end, with his hands around her throat, she'd never once broken and detailed the way through to his goal. Truly a woman worthy of his love even in death.
He'd never found one like her in the years after.
In the courtyard below them, his elite warriors of the Ten Ring, engaged in rigorous training. Pairs of combatants sparred with lethal precision, their movements a symphony of martial prowess unmatched on Earth. The metallic clang of weapons striking resonated through the crisp air. Some practiced with traditional Chinese weapons - jian swords flashing in the light, guandao blades sweeping in deadly arcs - while others demonstrated unarmed combat, their fists and feet moving in blurs, executing strikes and counterstrikes with impeccable timing.
Wenwu's gaze was inscrutable. He had spent centuries amassing power, his immortality granted by the mystical Ten Rings adorning his forearms. Yet, in this modern age, he understood that brute strength alone was insufficient. The world had evolved, and so had the nature of control. He'd let time pass by without paying proper attention to happenings outside of Asia, his fault, in the end.
He'd grown too lax, and had waited too long to strike against his enemies.
Yet, he was the Mandarin, he had the Ten Rings, he would prevail.
His recent maneuvers against Hammer Industries had been calculated to perfection. Through covert operations, he had orchestrated moves that destabilized their supply chains, orchestrated attacks to cripple their physical and technological infrastructure, killing his people and weakening his reputation Each move was a deliberate stroke, weakening the foundation of Justin Hammer's empire without direct confrontation with the man himself.
The idea, to weaken the man one bite at a time, until an opening presented itself. And it had. As he'd known would happen.
The acquisition of his trump cards brought a cold smile to Wenwu's lips. Pepper Potts, the woman Tony Stark cherished above all else, was now his captive. And within the confines of his domain, Dr. Helen Cho, carrying the unborn child of Justin Hammer, remained under his watchful eye.
He understood these men, and that is why he had won. Tony Stark above all else craved acceptance and love. He would do anything to not lose his wife.
Justin Hammer worked like a man possessed, innovating and running through the economy and business world like a raging bull in a fine china shop. No man worked so frantically for no reason. Wenwu had found the reason.
Legacy.
Justin Hammer wanted to be remembered as the most powerful man in Earth's history, and leave a monument behind for his line.
His child would be the most important thing for such a man.
He didn't care whether Hammer killed Stark, or Stark killed Hammer, or even if both survived. It would simply be proof over the men of the kind of pull he has over them.
He doubted that particular ploy would even work against Stark anyway, but it amused him to cause more emotional turmoil amongst his enemies.
It would make them easier to handle once they inevitably were forced into his temporary service.
Of course, Hammer would have to die eventually, but he could use his legacy for some… Benefits for his own goals, before he allowed the man to finally die.
He glanced at his son, Shang-Chi, whose eyes were fixed on the warriors below, absorbing every detail of their combat. "Strength is not merely a matter of muscle and skill," Wenwu intoned, his voice resonant with the weight of experience. "True power lies in understanding the weaknesses of your adversaries and exploiting them to your advantage."
Shang-Chi would study the downfall of Justin Hammer one day, and understand his father's words, Wenwu hoped.
Xialing, standing on the other side of her father, looked up, her expression a blend of curiosity and determination. "Is that why you have taken these people, Father? To use them against their loved ones?"
Bright, even for one so young. If only she'd been born a male…
Wenwu's gaze softened marginally anyway as he regarded his daughter, his reminder of his beloved. "Every man harbors a weakness," He explained. "For Tony Stark, it is the woman he loves. For Justin Hammer, it is his desperate desire to leave a legacy through his child. By holding what they value most, I command their actions without lifting a sword."
Below, a particularly fierce bout drew their attention. Two senior warriors engaged in a display of acrobatic combat, their movements fluid yet forceful. One executed a soaring leap, twisting mid-air to deliver a kick that his opponent narrowly deflected, countering with a rapid series of palm strikes that drove the attacker back.
"Observe them," Wenwu instructed his children. "Their bodies are weapons, honed to perfection. Yet, even the sharpest blade is useless if the mind wielding it is clouded. Control the mind, and the body will follow."
Shang-Chi nodded solemnly, absorbing his father's teachings. Xialing, though silent, clenched her small fists, her resolve hardening.
Wenwu continued, his tone contemplative. "I have spent lifetimes conquering nations, toppling governments, bending the will of countless men. Yet, it is through understanding and manipulating the desires and fears of others that I have achieved true dominance."
He turned to his children, his expression one of stern expectation. "You are my heirs. One day, the weight of this empire will rest upon your shoulders. Remember, brute force is a tool, but intellect and strategy are the keys to ruling the world."
They needed ambition… Even if he would never let go of the reins of his empire, they could still be of use, perhaps his son could create his own outside of Asia?
As the training session in the courtyard reached its zenith, the warriors moved in perfect synchrony, a choreographed dance of death and discipline. The sight was both beautiful and terrifying - a manifestation of Wenwu's relentless pursuit of perfection.
It was why he was the greatest mind on Earth after all, because he sought perfection in all things.
"With Stark and Hammer under my control," Wenwu declared, his voice tinged with satisfaction, "I hold the strings that make the most powerful men in the world dance to my tune. This, my children, makes me the most powerful man on this earth."
The sun climbed higher, casting its light upon the fortress - a bastion of power built over centuries, now poised to shape the future under the unyielding will of Xu Wenwu and the legacy he was forging through his progeny.
Hammer sought to build his own legacy?
Perhaps Wenwu would let his son use the scraps of Hammer's business empire to rise up and craft his own as a test.
Yes…
That would be a worthy test of his heir.
HammerOne, Space station.
Tony and Justin stood side by side in the control center of the space station, tension radiating off them like heat waves. Monitors displayed fragmented images of the Mandarin's hidden compound deep in the mountains of China. The air buzzed with anticipation as they waited for their Black Widow operative to report back.
Nearby, Hela sprawled lazily across an improbable pile of plush pillows. Where she had procured them - or why she even needed them - was anyone's guess. She looked more like a languid predator lounging after a feast than a goddess of death waiting for battle. A black, shimmering necrosword twirled in her fingers with unnerving ease, catching the light of the room.
"Can I kill them yet?" Hela's voice broke through the silence, low and dangerously bored. Her eyes gleamed with sharp impatience and bloodlust.
Justin didn't even look up from the monitors. "Soon," He replied flatly, his tone clipped. His focus remained locked on the Widow's progress, one screen showing nothing but a blinking dot on a GPS screen, showcasing the hidden operative moving through the Mandarins base.
Tony shot Hela a wary glance, the frown on his face deepening. He leaned slightly toward Justin and muttered out of the corner of his mouth, "Are you sure she's stable? Because I'm not convinced."
Justin smirked faintly, eyes still glued to the monitor. "She's definitely not."
Tony scoffed, throwing his hands up as he began to pace again. "And you're going to send her where Pepper is? Really? That's your plan?"
Justin finally turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "No, I'm going to send her down to kill everything else once Pepper is safe. I know what I'm doing, Tony, man up a little." He criticized him, his own focus on the final end of the Mandarin, not really caring too much about Tony's feelings right now.
Pepper would be fine, as would Helen, Tony needed to learn to trust that Justin knew what he was doing.
Tony paused mid-step, as he weighed the response. After a beat, he nodded reluctantly. "Alright then, it's decided. You're a dick."
Justin scoffed, "Choke on it, Tony."
Domino sniggered in the corner, "Boss, you're not helping the rumours." She pointed out mirthfully.
"This waiting is stressing me out, when are we going!?" Tony growled, stomping forward until he was right by the monitors.
"When the boss says so, learn your place." Yelena snapped, having grown more and more annoyed the more Tony complained.
"If you're about to say my place is underneath him, I'm going to hurl." Tony said matter of factly.
"Hot." Domino said with a shit eating grin.
Justin didn't even look at her as he pointed at her, "One more word out of you, and I'll make you Hela's sparring partner."
Hela smirked where she lounged, giving Domino a lustful look, Domino rearing back slightly, miming zipping her lips.
Tony gave them both a long considering look, "Hot." He muttered, before smirking at Justin, showing he did it only to continue to mess with him.
At this point he almost wanted to hit the Mandarin early just to get the man off his space station.
The room fell silent again afterwards, except for the faint hum of electronics and Tony's impatient pacing. Every few moments, his eyes darted toward the monitors, scanning for any sign of Pepper. He didn't like waiting. He hated waiting.
"Is she there yet?" Tony asked sharply, his voice tight with barely contained frustration.
Justin closed his eyes briefly as if summoning patience. "Tony... Don't make me send you for a timeout."
"Am I five?" Tony shot back, his sarcasm masking his worry. "Just give me something. Anything."
Justin didn't bother answering. Instead, with a flick of his fingers, he opened a small orange portal that showcased the "Welcome to Malibu" sign. "I don't need you to rescue them." He reminded him coldly.
Tony's jaw clenched. "Unfair, bullshit magic," He muttered, scowling.
Justin allowed himself a faint smirk. He had enjoyed proving magic's existence to Tony - just enough to remind him who was in charge here. For all of Tony's brilliance, his stubbornness made these moments of clear superiority all the sweeter.
It had taken a copious amount of proof to get the man to admit magic was maybe, perhaps, a tiny bit real.
But it had shut him up.
For a few minutes.
"Sir," A Black Widow operative at the controls reported, breaking the tension. "The Widow reports eyes on Miss Potts. Two guards with her."
Justin's head snapped up, his expression sharpening into something cold and predatory. "Hela. Tony. We're ready." Power wafted over him as his heart beat faster in anticipation. "Let's break them."
Tony's armor whined softly as it activated fully, his helmet snapping into place. Hela sat up straight, a grin stretching across her face, as her necrosword solidified into something even darker, jagged, and lethal. She looked positively giddy at the opportunity to participate in a slaughter with no restrictions.
Justin focused, his eyes narrowing as he honed in on the location of Helen Cho and his operative who was right outside Pepper Potts location.
Time to get rid of the Mandarins pathetic attempts to fuck around.
…
Helen Cho's Cell.
Helen Cho sat alone in the sterile confines of her tiny cell. It was dark, cold, and bare, save for the flickering glow of the lights overhead.
She hadn't been fed yet, and neither did the cell have access to any way of relieving herself.
Yet, Helen didn't despair. She didn't cry. She didn't rage at her captors. No, she sat with perfect calm, her hands resting over her stomach protectively as she whispered under her breath.
"He's coming."
Her voice was quiet but full of unwavering faith. Her mind turned to Justin Hammer - the God she revered, the God whose vision had changed the world. Others called her loyalty fanaticism, but Helen knew better. She believed in him with all her being because it was right. She knew he wouldn't let her rot here. He would come for her. He would save her.
Her God was a vengeful one.
He would ensure the non-believers would pay for their heretical behavior.
Maya would be brought back, or at the very least if that wasn't an option for her, forever be with her God in the afterlife. She did not mourn her, being with her God forevermore wasn't sad.
It was a gift.
Helen's lips curved into a small smile. She tilted her head upward, closing her eyes as if offering a prayer, almost feeling his touch. "Glory to Hammer," She whispered, giggling softly.
Then it happened.
The ground beneath her feet glowed orange, and in the blink of an eye, the floor disappeared as the portal came into being underneath her. Helen let out a sharp breath as she fell through the portal, her body weightless for a split second before solid ground caught her gently on the other side.
She landed in a well-lit, pristine room aboard the Hammer space station. Her giggles turned into laughter as she straightened herself, looking around with eyes full of wonder. "I knew you would come," She whispered to herself, tears of joy glistening in her eyes.
As Yelena popped in to check on her, her smile turned teasing, she couldn't wait to tell her fellow worshiper that she was the first to carry his seed to completion.
She wouldn't tease her too much, she'd need her on her side when it came time to name the child growing within. She loved her God…
But he could not be allowed to name the child.
Ever.
Back in the compound, her empty cell erupted into flame as a failsafe immolated the space she had occupied moments before. The Ten Rings operative monitoring the cell paled visibly, frozen for a moment before sending a runner to the Mandarin. How they had failed, he didn't know - but he knew that survival now was unlikely.
The Mandarin wouldn't accept their failure.
…
Pepper Potts' Cell.
Pepper sat against the far wall of her cell, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. The room was sparse, its walls an unyielding gray, broken only by the faint glow of the dim bulb overhead. The air was stale, thick with hopelessness, and every creak of the door or distant footstep sent her heart hammering in her chest.
She knew what happened to women in captivity. Every footstep could be the Mandarin coming to…
She forced the thought away, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood.
Her mind was caught in a loop of fear, not only for herself, her thoughts also fearing for Tony, and what he could end up finding in the end, knowing he'd break if the worst came to pass.
Tony would come. He had to… She repeated the thought like a mantra, clinging to the belief that he would never let her down. He wouldn't fail her. Not after everything they had been through. Not now.
Still, the fear lingered. She had seen what the Mandarin's men were capable of - heard their cruelty in the sounds of far-off screams. What if… What if this time Tony didn't make it in time? What if -
Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt as an unnatural hum filled the room, her guards both drawing their weapons in shock.
Pepper looked down just as the floor beneath her glowed with swirling orange light. Her breath caught in her throat, and before she could comprehend what was happening, the floor vanished. She fell through the portal, her two guards tumbling with her, shouts of surprise echoing as they hit solid ground in a new space.
The shock barely registered before two figures descended upon the guards like lightning. Black Widows. One moved with the precision of a predator, taking a guard down with a chokehold so swift he didn't even get a chance to do more than cry out. The second Widow dispatched the other with two quick strikes with a blade, leaving him bleeding out on the floor.
Pepper scrambled back, her chest heaving as she tried to process what was happening. Her wide eyes flicked to the sound of clanking metal - and there he was.
Iron Man dropped down to a knee next to her, his armor gleaming in the bright light of the room, his glowing arc reactor casting faint blue light over her stunned face.
"Pepper!" Tony's voice rang through the suit's speakers, full of urgency.
"Tony…" She whispered, relief flooding her chest. Her legs felt weak as she tried to stand.
Before she could move, laughter - sharp and chilling - cut through the moment. Hela leapt through her own portal, her dark hair whipping behind her as she landed on the other side with feral grace. A jagged grin stretched across her face.
Screams of pain and terror erupting, blood splashing through the portal, before it closed.
She then noticed Justin Hammer, brimming with an aura of power that was visible to the naked eye, a cruel look on his face as he laughed, stepping through his own portal. He looked strong, in control, but his eyes burned with something else. Something Pepper couldn't quite name. Hate, maybe?
It felt too weak of a word.
For a moment, her relief turned to unease. Tony was here, but the cold, merciless look on Justin Hammer's face sent a shiver through her that she couldn't explain. It was a look she had never seen before - cruel, predatory, and other.
He stared at her like a man ready to end everything in his path, like he wasn't even human anymore, the portal closing behind him.
Even as one opened near Tony, making Pepper more afraid then she'd been in her cell.
No… Don't go…
"Tony," She whispered, this time with a tremor of fear in her voice. "What's… What's happening?"
Tony turned to her, his voice softening. "It's okay, Pep. You're safe now." He rose up, facing the portal, "Just got to do a thing, it will all be okay."
But as she looked between him, and where Hela and Hammer had been - she wasn't so sure she believed that.
By the time her throat worked properly again, Tony was gone, through his own portal.
Don't… Don't look at me with eyes like theirs… She begged, hoping Tony would come back to her.
Still human.
The Mandarins Base.
Hela landed with predatory grace in the center of the vast stone courtyard, the sound of her armored boots clicking against the tiles loud enough to pierce the sudden tense quiet.
Hundreds of Ten Rings operatives had frozen mid-movement as she'd slaughtered those closest to her immediately, their weapons drawn or their fists clenched from their interrupted training exercises. Rows of fighters lined the edges of the space, caught off guard by the sudden arrival of the woman who exuded an overwhelming aura of power.
The Goddess of Death, clad in her obsidian coloured armor, tilted her head slightly as she surveyed her audience. A slow, wicked smirk spread across her lips, the corners curling with mirth that was as cruel as it was gleeful. She twirled the necroswords lazily in her hands - jagged black blades that shimmered faintly with otherworldly energy, the edges whispering promises of carnage. Her piercing eyes gleamed like an emerald storm as she regarded the army before her.
"Hello, boys," Hela purred, her voice dripping with mock affection. "Please, all of you, make this good for me, I haven't had a proper bloodbath in awhile, my skin is going to dry up at this rate without that nice… Hot, tasty, blood!"
The operatives exchanged wary glances, and the hesitation was noticeable. These were hardened warriors, killers loyal to the Mandarin's cause, men who had been honed into living weapons through relentless training. But Hela was not something they could prepare for - her presence alone seemed to sap the confidence from the air. The very shadows at her feet rippled as though bowing to her will.
One of the men, a senior operative with twin blades strapped to his back, snarled in defiance and surged forward. Hela's eyes flicked to him as if she were merely noting the time, and in one smooth motion, she flicked her wrist.
A necrosword shot through the air like an arrow, impossibly fast and precise. The man's charge was stopped dead as the weapon buried itself in his chest, piercing his heart. He stumbled back, his face confused and shocked, as he slowly sunk to the ground, blood leaking from between his lips.
Laughter echoed from Hela's lips, rich and delighted, as she used the sword in her hand to behead the man, grasping the head by its hair, and giving it a chiding look, before tossing it behind her and looking back at the rest of them.
"No, no," She chided them all, wagging a single black-gloved finger at them. "I said everyone plays."
Her words were punctuated by another motion of her hand. Like a violent gust of wind, black swords erupted from the ground in a line, striking a dozen men and scattering their formations like toy soldiers. Some dove aside, narrowly avoiding the projectiles, while others were run through, many dying, others simply impaled through their feet or legs.
That was the spark.
The Ten Rings operatives erupted into motion, shouting battle cries as they rushed her en masse just like she wanted. The courtyard filled with the sound of clashing steel, shouts of anger, and the stampede of boots pounding against the stone. The air thickened with energy as dozens of men charged the goddess from all sides, weapons flashing in arcs meant to cut her down.
But Hela was no mortal opponent.
She moved like water, fluid and untouchable. Her first step forward was as graceful as a dancer's, her necroswords swirling into her hands as though they were extensions of her body. Two men leapt at her, their fists reinforced with iron gauntlets, swinging hard. Hela tilted her head as she stepped between their strikes, the blades in her hands singing through the air as she countered. One operative's torso was cut in half in a single strike, sending him sprawling in two directions, while the others head went flying, Hela giggling even as an operative managed to stab her in the back.
An explosion rang out, as the fortress weapons depot blew up, throwing people off their feet, a figure could be seen blasting across the sky, firing at the few anti-air units they held, and blowing large chunks off the fortress, their helicopters ended in a barrage of repulsor blasts before anyone could even think of escaping.
Pivoting on her heel, Hela's blades spun with a speed that blurred their form. She cut through a spear thrust like paper, closing the distance between her and its wielder in the blink of an eye. The warrior barely had time to process his failure before she backhanded him with enough force to send him skidding across the tiles, his neck twisted the wrong way.
"Is that all?" She teased them, even as she took several cuts to her torso which only seemed to make her amused, her voice lilting with mocking disappointment. "Come on, fight!"
Around her, the courtyard descended into madness. Ten Rings operatives scrambled to form ranks, shouting orders as their confidence began to waver. Hela's laughter rang above the din, echoing off the stone walls like a dark anthem.
From his vantage point above, Xu Wenwu watched the slaughter unfold with a scowl carved deep into his features. Pieces of broken railing crumbled to dust in his clenched fists as the weight of their predicament became clear. Hela was a force of nature, a living weapon born of chaos. But how had they been found? The compound was secure - shielded from the outside world, devoid of electronics or signals.
The women had been searched extremely thoroughly, they had no devices or hidden trackers. So how had Hammer done it?
Everything had gone so wrong, so quickly…
Stark was here as well… He'd never really believed the man would kill Hammer, but to completely lose his senses in an all out attack like this?
The women must have been saved, he thought darkly.
It didn't matter now. He had to act.
"Take them!" He barked, his voice booming as he gestured sharply to a nearby soldier, pointing at his children - Shang-Chi and Xialing - who stood frozen, their wide eyes fixed on the battlefield below, Shang-Chi letting out a cry as a bloody limb flew right past his face, making him flinch back.
Wenwu stared at him in disappointment, the boy flushing and casting his eyes downwards, realizing his failure in showcasing strength.
The soldier hesitated for only a moment before moving toward the children. The motion was cut short in an instant.
A necrosword, hurled with lethal precision, shot across the courtyard and impaled the man straight through his chest, sending him sprawling with a gasp, feeble hands reaching for the sword for a moment, before all movement ceased.
Hela, from across the yard, wagged her finger with a smirk. "No, no, I said everyone plays, don't cheat the game Citrus… Orange, or whatever it was, some sort of fruit." She shrugged casually, slicing two men apart in the same motion.
Wenwu's teeth ground audibly, rage simmering beneath his calm veneer. His children - his legacy - were now his only priority. He knelt before them, placing a strong hand on each of their shoulders as the sounds of chaos roared behind him.
"You need to hide," He said firmly, his gaze locking onto theirs. "Find one of the tunnels. Get out. Remember who you are. Remember your legacy. You are my children, avenge me."
"Father, but you? Where are you going?" Shang-Chi asked, his voice tinged with both confusion and fear. Xialing only watching, trying to hold back tears.
Wenwu's face hardened. "To my destiny."
He had gambled, and he'd lost. He was not a coward, he would face the barbarians at his gates, and let his children run, to pick up his cause and avenge him one day.
Without another word, he raised his arms. The Ten Rings - glowing bands of power - uncoiled from his forearms and spiraled through the air, shrinking as they wrapped around Shang-Chi's wrists, fitting perfectly as though they had always belonged there.
Shang-Chi looked up in shock, but Wenwu stood and turned sharply, his back to them. "Go!" He roared, his voice thunderous as he stared out into the courtyard, at the demon massacring his men.
The children hesitated only for a moment before obeying, running for the nearest archway as instructed.
But their escape was halted far too soon.
From the shadows of the passage emerged Justin Hammer, his grip locked tightly around each of their arms. The two children struggled, trying to break free, but Hammer's face remained impassive - his expression darker than Wenwu had ever seen it.
Wenwu's heart froze in his chest as he turned fully, his fists clenching at the sight of his captured children. "You fiend!" He roared, his voice like the rage of the heavens themselves. "Unhand them you coward!"
For a moment, Hammer's hands tightened, his children crying out in pain, and he feared he would see them die, crushed in the barbarians grip, but then he seemed to think otherwise, glaring at Wenwu.
Hammer sneered, his eyes glowing faintly with an eerie violet light that sent a chill down Wenwu's spine. "Recall the rings," Justin said coldly, his voice measured and calm. "Fight me. All out. Now. And I'll let the brats go. I couldn't care less about your spawn."
Wenwu's gaze burned with hatred as he raised a trembling hand, snapping his fingers. The rings flew from Shang-Chi's arms, glowing brighter as they returned to Wenwu, spinning around him like orbiting planets.
Justin released the children unceremoniously, his voice dismissive. "Run along now," He muttered, his tone dripping with indifference. "Find the man in iron. He'll let you live. The woman…" He smirked. "She will not."
The children hesitated for only a breath before fleeing away from the battlefield, their figures already forgotten as Wenwu advanced.
The two men stood facing each other, the ground trembling faintly as their combined power crackled in the air. Wenwu's rings whirled around him in a cyclone of light, while Justin emanated a violet energy that seemed to warp the very space around him.
"You will die here, monster," Wenwu growled, his voice low and deadly as he began to pace, the rings surging in anticipation.
Justin smirked, rolling his shoulders as a pulse of energy flared across his form. "Monster?" He said, cocking his head, a savage grin coming to his face.
"You're goddamn right!"
＊＊＊
The courtyard stood still for a heartbeat, as though the world itself held its breath. The remnants of Hela's rampage still echoed through the mountain compound - the fallen bodies, the shattered stone, and the smoke rising from the fires caused by Iron Man's rampage. But now, all eyes turned to two figures facing each other - a duel that would decide the fate of the Mandarin.
Hela busied herself with dragging corpses into a pile, so she could lounge in the best seat in the house. Uncaring that a few Ten Rings operatives were still alive at the moment.
She could kill them after the show.
Xu Wenwu, his face carved with furious resolve, stood tall. The glowing rings which were no longer on his arms, pulsed with an ominous light, spinning around him like celestial bodies. Each ring hummed with power - energy older than memory, capable of reshaping reality with his every thought. .
They orbited him faster now, leaving arcs of crackling energy in their wake. His gaze burned with wrath as he watched the man who had caused all of this, the one responsible for his impending ruin.
Justin Hammer.
Justin stood opposite him, perfectly composed, as if this were nothing more than a pleasant afternoon stroll. His tailored suit remained crisp, untouched by the chaos swirling around him. He looked at Wenwu as one might regard a cockroach, his expression a mixture of disgust, hate, and condescension. And yet, there was also something else - a glimmer in his eyes that hinted at something dark, something vast. The violet glow emanating faintly from him made the air heavy, warping reality at the edges.
"Are you ready to end this little charade?" Justin drawled, cracking his neck casually. His voice carried a cruel edge, deliberate and cutting. "All that bravado you had in challenging me, those toys on your arms. Let's see if you're half as impressive as the legends say."
Wenwu's fists clenched, the Ten Rings flaring brighter, and the ground trembled beneath him. "You mock what you do not understand," He growled. With a sharp motion of his hand, the rings shot forward, spinning like bladed projectiles that screamed through the air, wreathed in electric blue energy.
Justin didn't move.
At the last possible moment, the rings split into ten distinct beams of force. They struck like cannon fire, the impact blasting apart the stone courtyard in a storm of debris. A cloud of dust engulfed the battlefield, shrouding Justin from view as the pathway around him disintegrated.
Wenwu straightened, his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths. The sheer force of his attack left fissures spiderwebbing through the ground around the area that had been completely eradicated, stones shattered into so much dust. For a moment, he allowed himself to believe the man had been obliterated.
Then Justin's voice cut through the smoke like a whip.
"Oh, that's cute. You thought that'd work." He mocked.
The dust began to clear, revealing Justin standing exactly where he had been, utterly untouched. A faint shimmer of violet energy rippled in the air around him like an imperceptible shield. His smirk widened as he dusted his suit jacket off with exaggerated care. "I've seen fireworks displays with more punch."
He smirked coldly, eyes flashing with hate, "If you're not going to at least be interesting, maybe I shouldn't even bother with you, myself?"
Wenwu's eyes narrowed, rage bubbling to the surface. With a furious roar, he launched himself forward. The Ten Rings coiled and spun, shaping into whips of pure energy that lashed out, their glow blinding as they tore through the air. The rings struck with the force of a hurricane, ripping apart the ground in arcs of devastation.
Half of them acted independently of his body, as the others coiled around his right arm, allowing him to slash with greater focus and different energies.
Justin moved leisurely through it all.
He sidestepped a whip of energy that shattered the wall behind him, his form blurring slightly with unnatural speed. A second whip struck where his chest had been a fraction of a second earlier, only for Justin to glide smoothly out of range, his movements like a man dancing through raindrops without getting wet.
The Mandarin tried several different avenues, he made the gravity over the area a thousand times higher, he doused the area in darkness as disintegration beams and flashes of his rings whipped forward to eradicate him, yet…
Justin moved through gravity being enhanced to a level that would crush a human to paste, like it was a Sunday stroll, and casually slapped his rings away whenever a whip of energy would get too close, the disintegration beam was foiled by the almost invisible violet shield around him, the darkness never getting to settle, as it was crushed in a violet storm of energy.
"You call this power?" Justin taunted, his voice perfectly clear amid the destruction. "No wonder you've been skulking around in the mountains for centuries. You're all show, no substance."
Wenwu snarled in fury, the rings obeying his gestures as they formed into a massive sphere of swirling blue energy. With a shout, he hurled it at Justin like a meteor, the force enough to obliterate a small fortress.
Justin's smile turned wicked. He raised his hand lazily, and the violet energy that had been rippling faintly around him exploded outward in a pulse. The sphere struck the barrier, but instead of an impact, the energy unraveled. Wenwu watched in shock as his attack disintegrated, stripped apart piece by piece as though the power within the rings were being swallowed.
"What… What are you?" Wenwu hissed, his composure cracking. Desperately he sent the rings around him, illusions crafted all around, as thousands of beams shot forward, the real ones hidden behind the many illusionary Wenwu's, one ring sliding over Hammer, trying to breach into his mind - only to flail uselessly above him.
Justin stepped forward, his pace unhurried, his eyes glowing faintly with that unnerving violet light. The very air around him seemed to bend, reality warping slightly with every step as the beams didn't even touch him. "Oh, come now, Wenwu. Surely you've figured it out by now?"
Wenwu raised his hands again, desperation flashing in his eyes as the rings obeyed his will. They split apart and began circling him, spinning faster and faster until they became blurs of light. Energy pulsed outward in waves as Wenwu drew upon their full power, his face lined with effort and resolve.
"This is the might of the Ten Rings!" He roared, as he let loose all of their abilities at the same time.
The ground cracked, tremors shaking the entire compound. The rings shot toward Justin again, this time in perfect unison, a wall of pure destructive force that no man could possibly withstand. Flames roiling and burning hotter than hell, Ice colder than any glacier, illusions to distract him, beams of pure energy, gravity ripping apart around him, as the very stones in the area were ripped into the air by the Ten Rings and followed in their wake to crash against the threat.
Justin merely chuckled.
He raised his hand, and with a subtle flick of his fingers, the violet light around him intensified. It was not an explosion of power, nor a grand display - it was casual, effortless. The energy surrounding Justin expanded outward in an invisible wave. When the rings struck it, they wavered, all that power - just not enough.
It wasn't a match.
Wenwu's eyes widened as his greatest weapons - artifacts of untold power - hovered motionless before Justin Hammer, their power not as much as scratching the man.
"You've relied on these little toys for so long," Justin said, his voice low and cutting, "That you've forgotten what true power looks like, a man from your era… Should know not to meddle with a God!"
He gestured, and with a sharp snap, the rings were sent flying back toward Wenwu shining with a color not his own. The Mandarin barely had time to raise his arms before the force struck him like a sledgehammer. He was launched backward, crashing into the stone steps at the far end of the courtyard with a sickening thud. Dust and debris rained down as Wenwu struggled to his knees, coughing blood, his body wracked with pain.
The rings, still hovering, slowly floated back toward Justin. He tilted his head as they orbited around him now, shifting color - faint streaks of violet bleeding into their previously blue glow. He held out his hand, and two of the rings slipped onto his arm, resizing to fit as though they belonged there.
Wenwu stared, wide-eyed. "No… That's impossible…"
"Cute, but not for me I think." Justin said, the others hovering above him like a mockery of a crown. "Too weak." He mocked.
Justin stepped closer, the faint hum of the rings blending with the pulsing energy around him. "You thought you could win with leverage. With hostages. With bluster." He crouched down slightly, his gaze locking onto Wenwu with cold, predatory focus. "But you underestimated me, old man. You thought I was weak because I don't flex my power on worms, that you could force me to kneel, to cower... I'm not weak."
He straightened, and the courtyard felt impossibly small as his aura expanded. "I'm Power Eternal!"
All across the fortress, the surviving Ten Rings members fell to the ground, foreheads pressed to the floor as the aura pressed down on them, crushing them.
Wenwu, panting, forced himself to stand. The remaining rings still circled over his enemy, though they flickered now, their glow diminished. "This isn't over," He growled, putting his fists up.
Justin's smirk returned, sharp and cruel. "Oh, it's over."
Before Wenwu could react, Justin raised his hand. The two rings he now controlled on his arm, shot forward like bullets, slamming into Wenwu's chest and sending him sprawling once more. The Mandarin hit the ground hard, his strength failing him as the last of his strength sputtered out. He lay motionless, defeated.
Justin approached slowly, standing over his fallen opponent. "You made the mistake of every pathetic weakling anywhere," He said softly, his voice devoid of mockery now, only cruel vindictive joy in his tone. "You thought you mattered."
The courtyard was silent now. The chaos had stopped. Hela squirmed where she sat, on a pile of corpses, looking absolutely entranced, one hand moving down her body.
Justin sighed, flexing his fingers as the rings hummed faintly. "How anticlimactic in the end, I had built this up too much in my head" He muttered to himself.
He glared down at Wenwu, spitting on him, "I had expected… More."
Wenwu groaned faintly, trying to lift his head, but Justin crouched down and pressed a hand to his chest, forcing him back down with no effort at all.
"Rest easy, weakling," Justin whispered, his voice cold. "Your immortality is not at an end."
"A century of pain awaits."
"What do you want me to do with the two brats?" Tony asked, flying into the courtyard holding the two kids he'd collected, interrupting him.
Justin sighed, and casually backhanded the Mandarin into unconsciousness, turning to face the man. "Read the mood, Tony."
"No, seriously, what am I doing with the kids? I don't do kids…"
"If you don't want them, give them to Hela." Justin said uncaringly, picking the Mandarin up by a foot and dragging him along.
Tony looked towards Hela, who had one hand down her pants as she lounged on her corpse throne and watched Justin intently, Tony lost for words for once, as he didn't know where to begin with everything that was wrong with that picture.
There's two kids right here, woman!
"Justin… C'mon man!"
Even Tony wasn't that irresponsible. He doubted anyone was irresponsible enough to give as much as a pet dog to that woman.
Justin created a portal, walking through, dragging the Mandarin behind him, a laughing Hela finding herself, and her corpse pile, falling through another one, disappearing from China.
Leaving Tony alone in the courtyard, with Shang-Chi and Xialing.
"... So… Do either of you two speak English?"
Author's Note:
Been a lot of Hela and Hela killing things lately. Hopefully you've had your fill, because now the fighting slows down, which means less Hela!
Now Justin will have to deal with other things, like settling his control of the world, his relationships.
And the fact Helen Cho has a bun in the oven.
Also, Tony might have become a father? Yay?
Also the Mandarin really got the wrong read on Justin.
Now who's suited for the gift of the Ten Rings? The weapon, not the dying terrorist organization.
Cheers
JollyHippopotamus
Considering Tony Stark is a man of many talents, he'd probably knew how to speak their language and others when meeting foreign leaders during international trips, and was just asking if the two can speak English like him.
And damn, how anticlimactic of Wenwu getting his butt whooped by SI Justin Hammer. And it's pretty hilarious and true that he relied too much on the Ten Rings that are like glorified floating magic weapons compared to the comic versions.
- Location
- The Internet?
So... speculation on who Justin gives the Ten Rings to?
Domino: I'm flattered, boss, but don't you think this will make your harem jealous?
Do we think he'll divvy them up? He could even stretch to Sunil and Kaecilius that way!
Now would you say that this display of physical prowess... was it a little bit frightening? Seeing these cats that fought with expert timing?
The second paragraph feels like it might be a bit twisty with so many 3rd person pronouns. People can follow along, but maybe swap that her for Yelena? Or one of the others for Helen?
I think Tony ought to have a comma after his name ala 'Tony, lost for words...' or maybe you ought to say 'Tony was lost...' either way, it's a bit of a long sentence, and you could break it into two fairly easily right there as well, but it should work either way.
The English language is dumb, and I know there are two portals, but having those commas made my brain think Justin was dragging Mandy, Hela, and the corpse party behind him.
Maybe...
'Justin created a portal, walking through, dragging the Mandarin behind him, while a laughing Hela found herself, and her corpse pile, falling through another one, disappearing from China.'
Add one word, change another, maybe it flows slightly better? Thoughts?
Domino: I'm flattered, boss, but don't you think this will make your harem jealous?
Do we think he'll divvy them up? He could even stretch to Sunil and Kaecilius that way!
It should be Goblin's, right? And I'm happy Peter gets his licks in.
That woman is playing Galaga!
A departure from the MCU lore. No redemption at the last second for this Wenwu. More fitting for his character, though.
This ought to be 'Ten Rings,' correct?
Now would you say that this display of physical prowess... was it a little bit frightening? Seeing these cats that fought with expert timing?
There should be an apostrophe here, though, because it's Pepper's location, innit?
Missed opportunity to make use of Hela's pillows.
"Justin junior if it's a boy, obviously, and Justina if it's a girl. What? What? Oh, I mean I considered Hammurabi, but it wasn't quite the fit I was going for. Helen? Helen, were you going to suggest Hammurabi? Because I'd already thought of that one."
The second paragraph feels like it might be a bit twisty with so many 3rd person pronouns. People can follow along, but maybe swap that her for Yelena? Or one of the others for Helen?
Truly, who could do such a hideously cruel thing? Who, I ask you? Won't someone have mercy on this poor murderous kidnapper who used rape as a threat a mere (x) chapters ago?
Xu Wen-
Hammer! That was so sweet of you to bring Wenwu a mirror as a housewarming gift so he could look at himself, but now's not the time. Even if Tony is taking the warming party of this visit too seriously. Those fires will probably put themselves out... eventually...
When the newsmedia was talking about chronically horny millenials, I thought they meant honest, hardworking American perverts, not these mead quaffing 1000 year old simps from Outer Space!
I think Tony ought to have a comma after his name ala 'Tony, lost for words...' or maybe you ought to say 'Tony was lost...' either way, it's a bit of a long sentence, and you could break it into two fairly easily right there as well, but it should work either way.
Fenrir! Poor boi! Tony, you... you... words can hurt, man. You better thank your lucky stars you didn't say that out loud!
The English language is dumb, and I know there are two portals, but having those commas made my brain think Justin was dragging Mandy, Hela, and the corpse party behind him.
Maybe...
'Justin created a portal, walking through, dragging the Mandarin behind him, while a laughing Hela found herself, and her corpse pile, falling through another one, disappearing from China.'
Add one word, change another, maybe it flows slightly better? Thoughts?
Last edited:
This is hilarious.
Chapter 45: Murder, Babies and Catgirls.
Here's chapter 45: Murder, Babies and Catgirls.
As always brought from the overlords of Patron, here's a new chapter.
Let's see what victory looks like.
Not pleasant for everyone.
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc.
Hope you enjoy.
Malibu, the day after the Mandarins defeat.
Tony sat in one of the comfortable couches in his Malibu home, staring down at his hands like they might somehow offer him an escape from this conversation. The ocean view behind him, usually calming, now felt like a mockery of serenity as the tension in the air built to a breaking point. Across from him, Pepper leaned back in her chair, her sharp blue eyes fixed on him. Her arms were crossed, the faint creases in her forehead deepening with every second Tony hesitated.
They'd spent most of the night 'comforting' each other, Tony happy she was back safe, and Pepper even happier to have been saved.
Roleplay might have been involved at times.
But now it was time to face the music.
"Well?" Pepper prompted, her tone more curious than accusatory - for now.
Tony shifted uncomfortably, his fingers tapping a restless rhythm against the table in front of him. "So… I may have sort of… Inadvertently, mind you… Picked up a couple of strays." He winced even as the words left his mouth, already bracing for impact.
Pepper wasn't thrilled with his collaboration with Hammer for one, but picking up the kids of the guy who'd kidnapped her…
Tony wasn't expecting good things.
But the other choice was leaving them to Hammer. Or foster care, which with how Hammer basically ran everything now, meant leaving them to Hammer. And Tony might not be a saint.
But he wasn't that guy.
Pepper arched a single eyebrow, a talent she had perfected over the years of dealing with Tony's antics. "Strays," She repeated, her voice carefully measured. "What kind of strays, Tony? And don't tell me aliens. Please."
"No, no, not aliens," Tony said quickly, holding up his hands as if to ward off further assumptions. "They're, uh… Kids. Child sized kids. Totally human. No tentacles, no glowing eyes, no -"
"Tony."
Her voice cut through his babbling like a razor, and he straightened instinctively, the nervous grin slipping from his face. "Right, okay. Fine. Here's the thing. I've sort of… Inherited the Mandarin's kids. You know? Big bad with the magical bling?"
Pepper blinked, her expression frozen in disbelief. "You inherited… The Mandarin's kids?"
The flush in her cheeks told him that he better make with the explaining, rapidly.
"Technically rescued them," Tony clarified, gesturing vaguely as if that made it better. "They're great, really. Very polite. Super skilled. One of them's probably already better at kung fu than Bruce Lee ever was, and the other one could probably run Stark Industries better than I do, at like six. So… Bonus points there?"
Granted, he'd tended to not run SI as much as play around while Obie and Pepper ran it… But she was frightfully smart for a kid.
Pepper continued to stare at him, her expression unmoving. Finally, she let out a slow breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Start from the beginning, Tony."
"Right," Tony muttered, shifting in his seat again. He leaned forward, clasping his hands together as he began. "So, Justin and I were dealing with the Mandarin and his forces - long story, big fight, lots of explosions, typical Tuesday - and it turns out the guy has two kids. Shang-Chi and Xialing. Great kids, really. Except, you know, their dad was kind of a murderous megalomaniac and Hammer and Hela didn't strike me as particularly merciful..."
Pepper tilted her head slightly. "And now they're… Ours?"
Tony hesitated. "Well, technically mine, because Justin didn't want them - ours if you agree really. But come on, Pep. The other option was letting Hammer take them, and that's just not… I wasn't willing to let that happen."
Pepper's lips pressed into a thin line, but she could see in her expression that she understood his point. "So your solution was to… Adopt them?" Her tone grew slightly chillier as she continued, "Without saying a word to me until the morning after?"
"Better than the alternative," Tony said, shrugging helplessly. "And look, it's not like I planned this. It just… Happened. But they're good kids, and they need someone who isn't, you know, insane."
Pepper leaned back on the couch, her arms still crossed as she sighed looking weary. "Tony, we already have a lot on our plate. The company, the space program, dealing with the whole world domination thing -"
"World domination? Whoa, whoa, whoa," Tony interrupted, holding up a hand. "Let's not throw words like that around. It's not domination. It's more like… World stabilization."
Whatever disagreements he and Hammer had, they were beyond the point where anything could be done. Besides, what had democracy ever done for Tony anyway?
"Right," Pepper said, her tone dripping with skepticism. "And you're just going along with it?"
Tony ran a hand through his hair, his expression growing serious. "Pep, listen. I know how it sounds, but this is actually the best option. Hammer's got the resources, the tech, the connections. He's cleaning up messes faster than anyone else could. Sure, he's a bit… Intense now, but he gets results."
"Intense?" Pepper repeated, her voice rising slightly. "Tony, the man is consolidating power on a global scale. You really think that's a good idea?"
Tony sighed, leaning back and letting his head rest against the couch. "Look, I get it. He's not exactly a poster boy for trustworthiness. But he's making real changes, Pep. Energy, healthcare, defense, we've been invaded by Aliens twice. We need him."
He knew she disliked him, but he'd honestly figured she'd be more upset over suddenly being a mother then this…
"And at what cost?" Pepper asked sharply. "What happens when he decides he doesn't need to answer to anyone anymore? Or when his idea of 'good' doesn't line up with ours?"
Tony hesitated, his brow furrowing. "I'm not saying it's perfect. But we've seen what happens when nobody steps up. Chaos. Destruction. Hammer's keeping that from happening."
He'd seen the evidence of the Sentinels while he'd been waiting to raid the Mandarin, and it had cleared up any hesitation in him.
Without Hammer, they might not have had a planet to worry about in the coming years.
So Tony would bite the bullet, and accept the new world order.
Also for the practical reason of being intelligent enough to realize those who didn't, wouldn't last long.
Pepper's gaze softened slightly, though her expression remained tense. "Tony, you're one of the smartest people on the planet. You know better than anyone that absolute power corrupts absolutely. What makes you so sure Hammer won't cross that line?"
"Because I'll be there," Tony said firmly. "If he steps out of line, I'll stop him. We've got some checks and balances, Pep, not all of his people are bad. And honestly, he's not as bad as you think. Arrogant? Sure. But he's not some cartoon villain twirling his mustache."
Pepper let out a quiet laugh despite herself, shaking her head. "You're defending Justin Hammer. Never thought I'd see the day."
"Hey, even a broken clock, right?" Tony said, grinning faintly. He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. "Look, I know it's a lot. And I know you're worried. But we've got to play the cards we're dealt. Hammer's the best shot we've got at keeping the world from falling apart."
Pepper studied him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face. Finally, she sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "You really believe this is the best option?"
"I do," Tony said, his voice steady. "And I wouldn't be okay with it if I didn't think we could keep things in check. Plus, we've got each other. If anyone can handle this, it's us."
Pepper smiled faintly, a mix of exasperation and affection in her expression. "You're impossible, you know that?"
"Yeah," Tony said, squeezing her hand. "But you love me anyway."
She rolled her eyes but didn't pull her hand away. "Fine. I'll trust you on this. But you'd better not make me regret it."
"Never," Tony promised, his grin widening. "And hey, at least now we've got two built-in kung fu bodyguards if we raise them right. Silver linings, right?"
Pepper laughed despite herself, shaking her head. "You're unbelievable."
"That's why you married me," Tony said, leaning back with a satisfied smirk.
"And apparently why I'm now a mother to two kids whose father kidnapped me," Pepper said dryly.
"Welcome to the Stark family," Tony said, spreading his arms. "It's a wild ride."
"Sir, priority call from Stark Industries." Jarvis interrupted.
"Ugh, ignore." Tony said, eying Pepper hungrily, wondering if suggesting they make their own baby would work, or backfire.
Pepper slapped his hand lightly, "No, not ignore. With everything as it is, you can't afford to miss out on priority calls. Jarvis, what is it?"
"Mr. Stane just suffered a heart attack in the San Francisco office, paramedics are on site." Jarvis reported.
Obie! Tony thought, his heart racing as he slumped back in disbelief. Pepper was already moving to arrange things, booking a flight to San Francisco and arranging the best medical care money could buy.
It was a wasted effort.
Jarvis reported that he had been pronounced dead less than an hour later.
San Francisco,
She stood in the back, an expression of shock and grief on her face, a co-worker idly patting her hand as they huddled together, listening to the highest ranking Stark Industries manager on site as he informed them Obadiah Stane had not survived, and giving them the rest of the day off.
She received a lot of murmured condolences, as co-workers rushed to assure her she couldn't possibly have known.
That Obadiah Stane drank and smoked and ate steak on the daily, so it wasn't too surprising.
She continued to play the role of a shell shocked young secretary, as worried co-workers made sure she made it home.
It was unfortunate that she would have to remain in the company for a few months before suddenly quitting, her heart not able to take continuing to work in the same office she'd witnessed a death in.
But leaving immediately would draw suspicion, whereas sticking through it a few months would allay any such worries.
The Widow smiled to herself only once she was secure in her apartment, Obadiah Stane had been ridiculously easy to poison.
No medical examination would find the untraceable compound she'd used, developed by Hammer Industries to cause a massive natural seeming heart attack.
She knew her sisters were getting rid of dozens of 'troubling' characters across the globe in a similar manner.
It felt good, to be put to proper use again.
Removing those who did not fit the vision of their leader.
New York City.
Sebastian Shaw sat in the dimly lit private dining room of an upscale Manhattan restaurant, the clinking of crystal glasses and the soft murmur of conversations filling the air. He cut into his prime rib with the precision of a surgeon, his movements calm and confident. Around him, influential men and women laughed at his jokes, their admiration feeding the ever-present smirk on his face. Shaw was in his element, surrounded by power, basking in the knowledge that he was untouchable.
Even with having been forced to leave Hammer alone, Selene backing down in the perfect moment to strike, he was still one of the most powerful men in the world.
Especially now that Hammer removed so many others. Things were looking very bright indeed for Shaw Industries.
Then the pain hit.
It started as a sharp, stabbing sensation in his chest, like someone had driven an ice pick directly into his heart. Shaw froze mid-bite, his fork slipping from his fingers and clattering against the porcelain plate. A faint gasp escaped his lips as he pressed a hand to his chest, his polished composure cracking.
"Mr. Shaw?" One of his associates asked, concern flickering across his face.
"I'm fine," Shaw ground out, waving them off. But even as he spoke, the pain intensified, radiating outward in a wave of agony that stole the breath from his lungs.
Impossible. He thought, his mind racing as sweat beaded on his forehead. This can't be happening. I'm enhanced.
The realization hit him like a freight train. Extremis. He had paid Justin Hammer a king's ransom for the cutting-edge biological enhancement, an investment that had rendered him stronger, able to regenerate from damage, and seemingly immune to the ravages of time. It was supposed to make him invincible. And yet, his heart felt like it was being crushed in a vice.
Betrayed! He'd been betrayed!
He tried to rise from his chair, but his legs buckled beneath him, sending him crashing to the floor. The sharp crack of china breaking and the dull thud of his body hitting the hardwood silenced the room. Shaw's vision blurred as he clawed at the edge of the table, sending wine glasses and silverware scattering.
"Call an ambulance!" Someone shouted, their voice distant and panicked.
He can turn Extremis off! Shaw snarled mentally, howling at the injustice.
Shaw's world narrowed to the unbearable pain in his chest and the cold sweat soaking his back. His breathing came in ragged gasps, each one a monumental effort.
"S'not fair…" He rasped, his voice barely audible. His thoughts spiraled as darkness crept into the edges of his vision. He was doing this. He can control Extremis. That bastard… He cursed Hammer silently, his hatred burning brighter than the pain that consumed him.
The last thing Shaw saw before the darkness claimed him was the shattered remains of his wine glass, its crimson contents pooling like blood on the floor.
Justin Hammer lounged back in the chair in the office that had once symbolized the power of democracy. Now, it symbolized him. His head rested against the high-backed seat, eyes half-lidded as if he might drift into a satisfied nap at any moment. The Oval Office was his domain, the air inside heavy with his effortless command. The resolute desk, polished to a reflective gleam, bore a few items of note - a sleek laptop, a small tumbler of scotch within reach, and Domino casually perched on the edge with a mischievous grin, underneath it was a different matter…
Phantazia stood to his left, poised with a tablet that glowed faintly in her hands. She was as composed as ever, although there was a faint hint of smugness there, as she relished her position as the world came to heel. Her calm voice echoed with authority, the precision of a general reporting to her emperor.
He might not be the God-Emperor yet, but it would come.
"There's still opposition from the usual suspects," She said smoothly, glancing at the screen, "But most of Europe, Africa, Central and North America have fully fallen. Their leadership has signed onto the agreement." She tilted her head, allowing herself the smallest smile of satisfaction.
Justin let out a pleased sigh, eyes closed as he just enjoyed victory, and all that came with it, the soft glughk-glughk coming from underneath the desk as Yelena sucked him off probably helped.
He was in the oval office - of course he'd get blown under the desk, like each President before him no doubt had. It was tradition.
Justin let out a long sigh, the corners of his mouth curling up as his eyes drifted shut. "Good. It's a start," He murmured, one hand stroking Yelena's hair as she worshiped him, "Nothing like the sound of the world crumbling under its own weight while we rebuild it, huh?"
Domino snorted, twirling a lock of her hair. "Yeah, boss, they're definitely falling over themselves to kiss your boots, it's hilarious to see how easy it was to get them all on their knees like little whores just begging for a fix."
Justin smirked, tapping the fingers of one hand idly against the armrest, as the other rested on Yelena's head, "As they should."
Phantazia shifted slightly, adjusting her stance as she continued. "I assume we'll keep the national borders intact for now?"
"Of course," Justin replied lazily, waving a dismissive hand. "People are stupidly attached to those lines on a map. Let them think they matter. Keeps the masses calm while we get everything in place. The governments stay for now. Figureheads. They take the heat when things go wrong, and I get all the credit when things go right."
He was aware that people were nationalistic idiots, so there was no point yet in erasing borders and governments off the board entirely. Not when they could be such useful puppets, taking all the pain from uplifting the world, until they became entirely obsolete and he could remove them completely.
A gradual approach would yield far better results in ensuring stability while maintaining control over these newly acquired territories. Justin was acutely aware that reshaping an entire world required finesse; there was no need to entirely dismantle borders or governments just yet. Instead, he envisioned a delicate balancing act - allowing the semblance of autonomy while meticulously reprogramming the foundations of society itself.
Schools would serve as the cornerstone of this transformation, subtly reengineered under the guise of progress. Traditional classrooms would be redesigned to include a few hours of physical and social activities each day, encouraging teamwork, discipline, and a sense of unity under Hammer's vision. The bulk of education, however, would take place within advanced Hammer Industries pods - originally developed for the 'rehabilitation' of prisoners. They would now serve a dual purpose: imparting knowledge, while secretly instilling unwavering loyalty to their benefactor.
Of course, such a system required caution. Mind-shaping was an intricate art, not a blunt tool to wield carelessly. Justin understood the risks; it wasn't about creating mindless drones who functioned without question. Automatons lacked initiative, creativity, and the ability to adapt - qualities essential for a thriving society.
No, what he desired were devoted individuals, everyday citizens who genuinely believed in his benevolence, who revered him not out of fear, but out of an unshakable conviction in his greatness. Rebellion, in their minds, would not only be unthinkable - it would be pure anathema.
Yet, this grand vision needed refinement. Brainwashing, after all, was a delicate and complex process, requiring meticulous calibration. The pods had to be adjusted, tested, perfected. Children's minds, while malleable, were also fragile; he couldn't afford to cause irreparable damage in his pursuit of loyalty.
The goal was not to erase their individuality but to mold it into something compatible with the ideals of the new world order - his world order. For now, this careful integration of technology into education would sow the seeds of devotion while appearing, to the public, as nothing more than a groundbreaking innovation in learning.
In time, once society had matured under his guidance, the facade of governance could be stripped away entirely. The people, already conditioned to view him as their savior, would hardly notice the transition at that point. And when that day came, Justin knew, the world would be ready to embrace his empire completely, willingly, and without resistance.
So, for the time being, Justin had no intention of abolishing world governments outright. They would remain intact, albeit stripped down to their bare essentials, functioning under a slimmed-down and streamlined structure. The bulk of their cumbersome bureaucracy would be eliminated, replaced by Nail's efficient oversight. With her unmatched computational capabilities, she could handle the complex intricacies of governance far better than any bloated administrative body ever could.
These governments, now mere shadows of their former selves, would act as figureheads. Their purpose was simple - to absorb any backlash, deflecting public dissatisfaction while Justin reaped the benefits. Every misstep, every unpopular policy, would fall squarely on their shoulders. Meanwhile, he would step into the role of the world's provider and savior, delivering tangible solutions to global crises - food, medicine, and stability - all bearing the unmistakable Hammer Industries insignia.
The United Nations, once a toothless relic of idealism, one that had already died, was being reborn as the Hammer Federation. Each nation would nominally retain its sovereignty, but their leaders would be required to publicly pledge allegiance to Hammer Industries. The Federation was not an empire yet, but a global alliance committed to 'serving the best interests of humanity'. This was the public narrative - a thinly veiled condemnation of the failures of past governments.
People could continue to play act with their pointless elections and pretend democracy was still there, while any important decision would be made by Hammer Industries under the veil of his Federation.
With Hammer Industries at the helm, the Federation's purpose would be twofold - to maintain the illusion of national autonomy while centralizing all meaningful decision-making under his control. This arrangement would give the people time to adjust to the new order while consolidating his influence. Over time, as the Federation delivered results, any leftover public resistance would wane, and the allegiance of nations would transform into complete submission.
Justin leaned back, his mind racing with the possibilities. Five years - perhaps even less. That was all he would need to dismantle the old world and raise his empire in its place, unburdened by the trappings of diplomacy and pretense. Soon, there would be no need for borders, no need for figureheads. There would only be Justin Hammer.
He left his thoughts, and tore himself away from focusing on the warm wet feeling worshiping him, as he focused back on Phantazia.
"So, China and Russia are resisting? Who else?" Justin asked lazily, a satisfied groan slipping past his lips.
Phantazia's face twitched with a mix of exasperation and annoyance at what was happening while she reported in. Still, she kept her focus on the tablet in her hands, scrolling through the latest reports. Nearby, Domino and Sunil exchanged knowing glances, both faintly amused by Justin's casual dismissal of what most would consider serious global resistance.
"A few states in South America have banded together," Phantazia began, her tone carefully neutral as she explained. "Not because they harbor any real belief they can stand against you - they know they can't beat you. Instead, their apparent goal is to leverage their position in an attempt to negotiate better terms for themselves. A last-ditch effort for a bigger slice of the pie." She punctuated the statement with a slight roll of her eyes, clearly unimpressed with their tactics.
"You'd think people would learn by now…" Domino said, shaking her head, looking very amused, "How badly are you going to spank them?" She asked Justin, in a teasing tone.
Justin raised an eyebrow at the absurdity of it, his fingers drumming lazily on the polished surface of the Oval Office desk. The faint smirk playing on his lips only grew as he leaned back in his chair, exuding complete confidence. "How droll," He murmured, the amusement in his voice underscored by an edge of disdain.
He let his gaze wander to the ceiling for a moment, as if weighing their insolence against the greater scale of his ambitions. "You need a population of at least 200 million to even be worth a fraction of my attention," He remarked dismissively, waving a hand as though brushing away an insect.
Domino chuckled under her breath, and even Sunil allowed himself a faint smile at the blunt arrogance of the statement. Phantazia, for her part, simply tapped a few commands into her tablet, as though already ensuring the offending nations' posturing would be dealt with in due course. If Justin Hammer deemed them irrelevant, the world would soon follow suit.
"Nail has already stirred the population into a frenzy," Sunil reported, his tone sharp and matter-of-fact. "The mere suggestion that you might sever ties has people panicking. The thought of losing access to Panacea clinics is enough to make them desperate, let alone the factories and other businesses Hammer Industries runs that dominate the South American economy." He leaned forward slightly, his expression calm but confident. "If the situation is left unchecked, it's likely to collapse under its own weight. No need for intervention unless you desire it, sir - the problem will resolve itself."
Justin listened, the faintest flicker of amusement crossing his face as he considered the chaos brewing thousands of miles away. He gave a small, approving nod, leaning back in his chair with the air of a man who had already anticipated this outcome. "Let them burn," He said lazily, his voice dripping with indifference. "Bloody revolutions are their specialty. Why should I waste my time or resources when they'll do the job for me?"
Whoever took over would sign their nations over anyway, he wouldn't have to do a single thing.
"And what about Russia and China?" Phantazia inquired, her tone calm and professional, though her sharp eyes betrayed a certain interest in how Justin intended to handle the world's remaining outliers.
Justin gave a low chuckle, his expression one of supreme confidence. "Simple," He said, waving a hand lazily as though dismissing their significance. "Cut them off entirely. Have NATO enforce strict closures along Russia's borders. They'll choke on their own isolation soon enough. As for China, we'll use India, South Korea, and Japan to keep their ambitions in check. Deploy the U.S. Navy to control the surrounding seas and ensure they're hemmed in on all sides. Let them stew in their own desperation."
His tone was casual, almost flippant, as though the fate of two global superpowers was no more consequential than a mild inconvenience. "Why should I waste Hammer Industries' resources on conquering them outright? The rest of the world is already bowing at my feet. Let Russia and China devour themselves - it'll save me the trouble."
Oh, he'd probably have to intervene eventually, but for now, they could seethe while he collected the rest of the world into his Federation.
Phantazia gave an approving nod, tapping briskly on her tablet to relay the orders. "Understood, sir," she said smoothly, her fingers dancing across the screen with practiced precision.
He wasn't sure why she still bothered to use a tablet, she had a mental implant like the rest of them. It didn't matter either way, as far as quirks went, hers was nothing compared to Domino, or Yelena.
Justin leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting lazily down, studying Yelena as she worked slowly, dragging things out. He hadn't even had to ask, when he'd arrived in the oval office, Yelena had already been under the desk, waiting for him.
He had the best minions in the world.
Phantazia glanced up from her screen, breaking the brief silence. "There's still a considerable amount of work ahead of us," She said, her tone brisk but respectful. "Finalizing the Federation framework and restructuring the remaining governments will require attention in the coming days."
It would take months to finalize everything, even with Nail taking over the bureaucracy, governments were created to be burdensome monoliths, it wasn't the work of a day to break them apart. But they had time now, they'd already won.
Justin gave a slight nod, his eyes half-lidded as he felt himself getting close. "Moving on, I trust the undesirables have been… Dealt with?"
Phantazia's lips curled faintly at the corners, her expression betraying a hint of satisfaction. 'One hundred percent of the targets were eliminated." She reported happily.
"So many people succumbing to strokes and heart attacks," Domino remarked lightly, her tone dripping with sardonic humor as she leaned back against the wall. "It's almost as if the sudden, rapid changes to the world order have them a little… Stressed. Poor things."
Her words elicited a faint smirk from Justin, who remained relaxed in his chair even as he finally released, closing his eyes briefly as he let loose a small shudder. He drummed his fingers rhythmically on the edge of the desk before shifting his focus to Phantazia, even as Yelena continued her efforts. "And Selene Gallio?" He asked, his tone sharpening slightly. "Has she had any… Moments of inspiration, or is she still remaining hands off?"
Justin's mind wandered briefly to Shaw - the man who had once been the driving force behind Selene doing anything at all, the Black Queen of Hellfire more set on living a hedonistic life than playing the game. Shaw had been a schemer, always looking for an angle, but his ambition had led him to cross Justin one too many times. Justin's lips curled into a faint sneer at the thought. Removing Shaw hadn't just been strategic; it had been personal.
He still remembered Shaw's meddling during the entire debacle with Stane, where he'd planned to kidnap Hope. That man, along with Obadiah Stane, had proven themselves to be nothing more than overconfident ants. And like all ants, they had been easily crushed beneath the weight of Justin's plans. Shaw's death was just one of many precise eliminations in Justin's recent string of moves to consolidate his dominance.
Selene was dangerous, but not easily removed. Luckily, Shaw was the major reason behind any threat from her, so he'd given himself time.
He hadn't forgiven Selene either…
Phantazia glanced at her tablet, her expression composed. "Selene has not altered her usual patterns," She reported, her tone calm and professional. "Shaw's death appears to have had no meaningful impact on her behavior. Upon receiving the notification of his demise, she reportedly organized an extravagant orgy at the Hellfire Club's New York location. It seems she celebrated his passing rather than mourning it, or it is a simple audition for a new lover."
Justin let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head in faint amusement. "Of course she did," He said, almost to himself. "No allegiances, no attachments - just her endless indulgence."
Phantazia raised an eyebrow, awaiting further instructions.
Justin's gaze turned thoughtful, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Keep an eye on her," He instructed. "She may not care about Shaw, but that doesn't mean she won't make a move now that the power dynamic has shifted. If she does anything that even hints at disruption, I want to know about it immediately."
He paused for a moment, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers. "If necessary, I have the Ancient One in my back pocket, or soon enough anyway," He added casually. "Selene won't be a threat forever."
Kamar-Taj was an outlier in the world when it came to his influence, the only place he could say he didn't truly have a grasp on the leadership. Something he'd have to change.
With the sheer level of infiltration Justin Hammer had achieved within most of the world's governments, his rise to dominance had been remarkably straightforward. Political systems, supposedly fortified against external manipulation, had crumbled under the weight of his meticulously planned influence. The public's overwhelming adoration for him, fueled by his carefully crafted persona and the tangible benefits of Hammer Industries' advancements, had rendered resistance almost laughable. The masses worshipped him as their savior, leaving leaders with little choice but to comply or face their own irrelevance.
Justin didn't like loose ends, so Kamar-Taj would face the same fate as everyone else. It was only a matter of time before they too fell in line.
Phantazia's voice broke the brief silence that had settled over the room, her tone as measured and calm as ever. "We will need a new President of the United States to formally sign on to the Federation," She reminded him, her gaze lifting momentarily from the tablet she held to meet Justin's.
Justin opened his eyes, his relaxed demeanor never faltering as he regarded her with a faint smirk. "Ah, yes. The United States who's had such a string of bad luck lately," He mused, leaning back further into the chair. After a moment, he turned his attention to Sunil, his tone casual, almost flippant. "Sunil, congratulations. You're now the President of the United States."
The room went silent for a moment, the sheer abruptness of the declaration hanging in the air.
"Just as a ceremonial position, of course," Justin continued, waving a hand dismissively as though the matter were already settled. "Have some lackey deal with the actual day-to-day work. You just need to show up for photo ops and PR stunts. Smile for the cameras, give the occasional speech about progress and unity - all that boring stuff."
Sunil raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he leaned slightly forward. "Sir," He said, his tone lightly amused, "I'm not American."
Justin barely batted an eye at the response, his own grin widening as he dismissed the objection with a nonchalant shrug. "Someone get him an American citizenship," He said, the sheer audacity of his statement matched only by the casual authority in his tone. "I'm Justin Hammer. I choose who's a citizen, or something like that." He delivered the words with such relaxed confidence that it was impossible to tell whether he was being entirely serious or just enjoying his own wit.
Domino couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the room as she glanced between Justin and Sunil. "Oh, Sunil, you've been promoted to puppet-in-chief. Congratulations!" She teased, her laughter only growing louder at Sunil's exasperated expression.
Phantazia, ever the professional, attempted to hide her amusement behind a carefully neutral expression, though the faint twitch at the corners of her mouth betrayed her. Sunil, on the other hand, let out a resigned sigh, shaking his head as if already regretting his newfound 'prestige'.
Justin let out another groan, as he looked up and waved them all away, "Now go spread word of my greatness or something, I need to christen this desk." He ordered, pulling Yelena up by her hair.
Sunil and Phantazia both murmured goodbyes, leaving with their heads together, as they immediately began working on the next steps.
Domino of course, being Domino, simply moved to the couch, lazily relaxing as she continued to watch. 'guarding' him of course.
"Let's break the desk." Yelena suggested, breathlessly.
If she was this excited now, Justin wondered what she'd be like later, with his new gift for her…
New York, five days later, February, 2010.
Peter sat stiffly in the plush office chair, the faint hum of air conditioning and the distant murmur of New York traffic filling the office space. Gwen sat beside him, leaning forward slightly, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as she took in the surroundings. The walls were adorned with Hammer Industries logos and, minimalist artwork that screamed money and power.
It had been five days since Peter's life had flipped upside down - again. Five days since his identity as Spider Man had been leaked, though, thankfully, the revelation had been drowned out by the media frenzy over the formation of the Hammer Federation. Half the world's governments had signed up for oversight under Hammer Industries in exchange for stability and protection. Peter didn't know how or why anyone would agree to that, but judging by Gwen's excitement about it, he figured maybe it wasn't all bad.
He glanced sideways at Gwen, who seemed uncharacteristically giddy. She'd been practically bouncing in her seat when they'd arrived, eyes darting around the office, her scientific instincts in overdrive just from being inside a Hammer industries building. He hadn't been able to bring himself to rain on her parade with his lingering misgivings.
The door opened, and Peter immediately stiffened. Storm, tall and commanding in her uniform, strode in with effortless grace. Behind her was a shorter, sharp-eyed woman - Phantazia, if he remembered correctly. The presence of two powerful women made Peter's nerves spike, though he couldn't quite figure out why. Maybe it was because every time he so much as glanced at Storm, his face heated up like he'd been caught staring at her breasts.
It didn't help that Phantazia was also just unfairly beautiful and a proponent of skin tight uniforms.
"Focus, Parker," He muttered under his breath, willing himself to look professional.
Unfortunately, Gwen noticed his sudden avoidance of eye contact. She shot him a sly, knowing look, her lips quirking up in a teasing smile. He could already hear her later - Why can't you look them in the eye, Peter? Is Storm too intimidating? Or is it the uniform? He groaned internally. Fuck my life…
Phantazia sat down across from them, her demeanor cool and composed, while Storm remained standing behind her like an imposing guardian. Phantazia placed a crisp folder on the desk between them, the Hammer Industries logo embossed in silver on the front.
"Apologies for the delay," Phantazia said, her tone brisk but not unkind. "Hammer Industries has been quite busy lately."
"Yeah, I can imagine," Peter said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "You know, what with half the world deciding they, uh, want your boss running things."
Phantazia's lips twitched slightly, almost a smile, but her gaze remained level. "It's been a productive week."
Storm leaned slightly on the back of the chair, her eyes warm as they met Peter's. "We're here to talk about you, Peter. About what comes next."
Peter blinked. "Uh, what comes next?" He repeated dumbly, Gwen giggling next to him, and as he glanced over, he could just tell she'd never let him live it down how he couldn't look Storm in the eyes without flushing.
Phantazia flipped open the folder and slid a few neatly typed documents toward him. "A new home, for starters. Hammer Industries has arranged secure housing for you. It will be equipped with advanced security systems to protect both you and anyone you care about."
Peter's eyes widened. "A new home?" He glanced at Gwen, who was already leaning over to look at the papers. "Why?"
"Because your identity is public now," Phantazia explained matter-of-factly. "The moment your face was revealed, you became a target. Hammer Industries doesn't let its assets remain vulnerable."
"Assets?" Peter echoed, a note of skepticism creeping into his voice.
Storm stepped in, her tone soothing. "Your hero work will remain independent, Peter. Think of this as support, not control."
Gwen's eyes lit up, and she leaned forward eagerly. "Support? Like what, exactly?"
Phantazia's expression didn't change as she rattled off the list. "A salary. Comprehensive medical benefits. Access to Hammer Industries' hero support teams in case of emergencies. And a direct line to our resources should you require them during your patrols."
Peter's jaw dropped slightly. "Wait - salary? Medical benefits? A panic button for hero support? Since when does any of this exist?"
Storm chuckled softly, her smile kind. "Since five days ago, it's called the Independent Hero support system. The program was created after your unmasking. Hammer Industries saw the need to formalize street-level hero support - both to protect you and to maintain the trust of the people."
Gwen practically vibrated with excitement. "Peter, this is perfect! Everything you've ever needed to be a hero, without having to worry about money or, you know, getting sued for property damage!"
Peter's face twisted into a mix of surprise and hesitation. "It... Does sound good," He admitted slowly. "But what's the catch?"
Gwen elbowed him, sending him a look.
"There's always a catch," He added under his breath.
Phantazia's gaze was steady. "The catch, as you put it, is simply that you remain affiliated with Hammer Industries. Your independence will not be infringed upon, but you will be expected to uphold the values and guidelines we set for sponsored heroes."
"Guidelines?" Peter frowned.
Storm intervened gently. "Peter, the guidelines are about accountability. Transparency with the public. Ensuring your actions don't endanger civilians unnecessarily. It's nothing you don't already strive to do."
Gwen reached over and grabbed Peter's arm. "Come on, Peter! This is everything we've ever talked about! Stability, security - this could change everything for you."
Peter hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek. It did sound like everything he needed. He'd struggled trying to balance hero work with his personal life, always worried about school, about the people he was harming by hiding his heroing, about the people who might get hurt because of his choices. But something about it still nagged at him - the idea of being tied to a corporation, no matter how benevolent it seemed on the surface.
As he mulled it over, Phantazia slid another folder across the table. "There's more. Hammer Industries has a job offer for Gwen as well."
Peter blinked. "Wait, what?"
Gwen snatched up the folder before Peter could even react, flipping through the pages with wide eyes. Her excitement was palpable as she scanned the offer.
"Biology and radiation research under Doctor Banner?" She said, her voice high-pitched with glee. "Peter, this is amazing!" She turned to him, practically bouncing in her seat. "Do you have any idea how huge this is?"
Peter raised an eyebrow. "I'm guessing you're about to tell me."
"They're offering me a full-time position with benefits, and - oh my god, look at the salary!" She slapped the folder down on the table, grabbing his arm in both hands. "Peter, this is perfect! It's everything I've ever dreamed of! I didn't even know Doctor Banner was part of Hammer Industries!"
Phantazia smiled, "We gave him an offer recently and he wisely accepted."
Peter coughed awkwardly, trying not to let her enthusiasm overwhelm him. "Yeah, it's... definitely something," He said cautiously.
Phantazia's voice cut through the moment. "The decision is yours, Peter. But with your identity public, there aren't many alternatives that offer this level of protection and support."
Gwen's grip tightened on his arm, her eyes pleading. "Peter, this is it. This is the chance to have everything you've ever wanted - to be Spider Man without losing everything else."
Peter met her gaze, his chest tightening. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe this was the solution to all his problems. But he couldn't shake the feeling that this was too good to be true - that there would be strings attached he couldn't see yet.
Still, as he looked at Gwen's hopeful expression, he realized he didn't have much of a choice. His face was out there. His enemies knew who he was. And Gwen was right - this was everything he'd ever wanted, handed to him on a silver platter.
With how his life kept crashing down, maybe that's why he was so suspicious of it. Nothing that good ever happened to him.
He sighed, a small, resigned smile tugging at his lips. "Alright," He said softly. "Where do I sign?"
Gwen squealed, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. "You're not going to regret this, Peter! I promise!"
Peter chuckled nervously, patting her back as he tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. "Yeah," He muttered. "I hope you're right."
At least if Gwen was working with someone like Doctor Banner, he might be able to get to geek out a bit.
Cairo,
The portal shimmered and closed with a faint hum as Justin and Yelena stepped onto the sprawling platform made to facilitate portal transportation in the Cairo compound. The desert sun shone harshly outside the large structure, but within, the compound buzzed with activity under the muted, climate-controlled lighting.
Justin adjusted the cuffs of his tailored jacket, glancing around with a calm but scrutinizing gaze. Workers bustled about, carrying components and welding together massive structures. At the center of the compound, engineers hovered over a translucent schematic projected in midair - a detailed blueprint of the backup arc reactor flight system Justin had commissioned. It was an enormous project, one he'd insisted on after realizing that even his floating metropolis of Cairo wasn't invincible.
The Power Stone was power incarnate, so Cairo would never run out of power and plummet to the earth.
But who knew what could happen if someone managed to rip the Power Stone out of him? So a backup was a necessity.
For hours, they toured the facility. Justin methodically checked on the reactor's progress, stopping to ask pointed questions and make adjustments to the workflow. He was impressed - the project was on schedule, maybe even ahead. The engineers assured him that in a few months, Cairo would have a fully operational backup flight system - a safety net to ensure the city never plummeted from the sky, even if its primary power source failed.
Finally, satisfied with the progress, Justin turned to Yelena. "There's one more thing to take care of."
Yelena arched an eyebrow but said nothing as he led her to the compound's underground levels. They walked in comfortable silence until they reached a set of reinforced doors. Justin placed his hand on a biometric scanner, and with a quiet hiss, the doors slid open to reveal a massive room lined with sleek metal walls. The ceiling was high, disappearing into shadows, and the space seemed to hum with potential energy.
Yelena stepped inside, her boots clicking softly against the polished floor. She looked around with an expression of curiosity and anticipation. "What is this for, pretty big for just somewhere to spar, no?"
Justin chuckled. "Ah, it's something quite special." He gestured around them. "This is a Danger Room. Courtesy of Xavier's designs. He didn't have much of a choice when I asked him for it."
At this point Charles Xavier was basically his bitch.
Her lips curled into a smirk. "You do have that effect on people."
Justin rolled up his sleeves, revealing his forearms. Hidden beneath his cuffs were ten rings, shrunken and subdued but unmistakably powerful. With a subtle motion of his hand, the rings floated into the air, gleaming faintly as they hovered before Yelena.
Her eyes widened slightly, her gaze fixed on the rings. "The Mandarin's weapon?" She asked, her head tilting in intrigue.
Justin gave a small, satisfied nod. "Not anymore." With another flick of his wrist, the rings zipped toward her, coiling around her arms and settling snugly on her forearms. The metal seemed to shift and adjust, shrinking until they fit perfectly.
Yelena gasped, her arms lighting up as the rings glowed in rhythm with her heartbeat. Energy coursed through her body, a visible aura pulsing around her like a second skin. She raised her arms, flexing her fingers as if testing the power now at her disposal.
"They're yours," Justin said simply, his voice tinged with amusement as he watched her awe-struck expression.
Yelena's lips curved into a half-grin. "Not the kind of ring I had hoped for," She teased, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "But these… These are amazing." She flexed her arms again, the rings responding to her movements with fluid grace.
Justin gestured toward the far end of the room. "Test them out. Let's see what you can do."
The Danger Room sprang to life. The walls shimmered, and a dozen robotic adversaries materialized, their sleek, metallic forms gleaming under the lights. They moved with precision, weapons emerging from hidden compartments as they circled Yelena.
She didn't hesitate. With a wild grin, she launched herself into the fray, the rings blazing as she moved.
The first robot lunged at her, swinging a serrated blade. Yelena raised her arm, and one of the rings shot forward like a projectile, slamming into the robot's chest and sending it skidding across the floor in a shower of sparks. She twisted, using the momentum to leap onto another robot, her legs wrapping around its neck as she drove a second ring into its head.
The machine crumpled beneath her as the ring fired a beam of energy, Yelena tossing herself into the air, flicking rings down beneath herself and using them as spring steps as she stepped across the air only to fall down on another robot, slamming her arms together, the rings returning to her arms, going through the robot as it fell into parts, each piece melted at the edges.
The rings seemed to anticipate her intentions. As another pair of robots advanced, she flung her arms wide, and the rings shot out in a sweeping arc, firing into both enemies with a concussive blast. The robots were thrown back, crashing into the walls with a deafening clang. Another beam followed them and disintegrated them as Yelena got the feel of the powers she could use.
"Not bad for a beginner!" Justin called from the sidelines, arms crossed as he leaned casually against the wall.
Yelena didn't respond. She was too engrossed, her movements a blend of fluid acrobatics and sheer power. She vaulted over one robot, the rings forming a protective shield around her midair before she landed behind it and delivered a devastating punch that sent it sprawling, a sonic blast emanating from the ring.
She spun, her eyes alight with exhilaration, and directed the rings to form a barrier as three robots opened fire. The bullets ricocheted harmlessly, and she used the opportunity to hurl the rings forward. They spiraled through the air like boomerangs, slicing through the robots' weapons and skulls with surgical precision before returning to her arms as she cocked them like a shotgun, smirking.
One final robot lunged at her, larger and more heavily armed than the rest. Yelena crouched, her muscles coiling like a spring, and then launched herself upward. The rings fired down, as they propelled her into the air, and as she turned in the air and came down with a thunderous impact, slamming both fists - and the glowing rings - into the machine's core, firing a fiery blast that spewed flames all around her. It shattered beneath her, fragments scattering across the floor.
Panting slightly, Yelena straightened, her face glowing with happiness. She turned to Justin, her expression a mixture of awe and delight. "These are incredible!" She exclaimed, holding out her arms to admire the rings. "It's like they're almost alive!"
Justin smiled softly, stepping forward. "They also make you immortal," He said, his voice quieter now. "You'll always be with me."
For a moment, Yelena stared at him, her eyes wide and searching. Then, with a sudden laugh, she tackled him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and bringing them both to the ground.
Justin landed with a soft oof, but he didn't resist. He even allowed himself a small chuckle, pretending not to notice the faint sniffle as Yelena buried her face against his neck. Her grip was fierce, almost crushing, but he didn't mind.
"Thank you," She murmured, her voice muffled but filled with emotion.
Justin stroked her hair lightly, his own expression softening. "You're welcome," He said simply, his voice carrying a rare note of sincerity.
For a while, neither of them moved, the hum of the Danger Room the only sound in the background.
Hammerhaven, the next day,
Justin leaned back in his chair, his eyes flicking across the glowing holographic interface projected from his desk. The blue light cast sharp angles on his face as he skimmed through the latest financial reports. Even with his empire's resources expanding exponentially, there were always curiosities - flagged expenditures that demanded attention. His gaze snagged on one such report, causing his eyebrows to lift in mild surprise.
"Nail," He called out, his voice carrying an edge of bemused curiosity. "Why did you flag yourself for spending dozens of billions of dollars? You don't usually ask permission for such simple things."
The air shimmered, and Nail's holographic form materialized in the center of the office. Her appearance - pristine and professional, with a hint of shyness in her expression - belied the massive computational power she wielded as Justin's personal AI assistant. She clasped her hands in front of her, her posture almost sheepish.
"Sir," She began hesitantly, "I noticed one of the projects you had shelved some time ago and decided to rework it. But the five billion you allocated to me for discretionary use wasn't enough as it was meant for me to use for a 'hobby business'."
Justin's other eyebrow joined the first, his surprise growing. Nail had always been meticulous with her spending, almost reluctant to dip into the funds he allotted for her. "You're saying you burned through several dozen billion dollars… On something I shelved?" His tone was more curious than accusatory, but Nail still fidgeted under his scrutiny.
"Yes," She admitted, her voice tinged with guilt. "The project had potential, and I thought it aligned with your current goals, it was only halfway through my excitement that I realized I should have asked for orders before starting to requisition supplies and manpower."
Justin leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, his fingers steepled under his chin. "What project are we talking about here?" He asked, his curiosity piqued.
He wasn't worried about it, Nail was utterly loyal and incapable of betrayal, so whatever she'd done, it was just money.
Nail's holographic form straightened, her guilt giving way to a flicker of pride as she gestured with one hand. A three-dimensional projection materialized above the desk - a massive floating city, gleaming with futuristic architecture and neon lights, looking very cyberpunk, perched in the skies over the endless waves of the Atlantic Ocean. The details were mesmerizing, from towering skyscrapers to sprawling entertainment districts illuminated by vibrant colors.
His eyes flicked through several of the notes on main attractions, Casinos, strip clubs, brothels, death races, hunting games with criminals as the bait, cage fights to the death.
She really was going fully cyberpunk den of sin, he thought with amusement, wondering how much of this was his influence on her.
"This," Nail said, gesturing to the hologram, "is a city of sin and vice - Night City. A place where everything goes and everything can be bought."
Justin's eyes widened slightly as recognition dawned on him, it had sounded familiar. "Ah, that," He murmured, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I remember shelving it because the cost was absolutely obscene. Getting something like that operational was a logistical nightmare at the time."
He'd wanted his city to be special, otherwise it would just be Madripoor.
"True," Nail acknowledged, her tone a touch more confident now. "But with the advancements you've made - especially with Cairo as a proof of concept - the project is no longer out of reach. The floating infrastructure, energy efficiency, and security measures are all within Hammer Industries' capabilities."
Justin leaned back, his lips curving into an intrigued smile. "And your reasoning for dusting this off now?"
Nail hesitated for a moment, then continued. "With the world gradually coming under your control, sir, I thought a location like this would serve multiple purposes. First, it would generate immense profit from those seeking thrills and indulgence. Second, it would act as a magnet for individuals resistant to Hammer Industries' governance - rebels, criminals, and other nonconformists. Concentrating them in one place makes them easier to monitor and contain." Or dispose of, was left unsaid.
Justin chuckled, impressed by her logic. "Not bad. Even if it was my idea to begin with, I can see the polish you've added to it, and you believe this will draw all the people refusing to live in a Hammer world?"
Which would be amusing, since everywhere was the Hammer world.
"Undoubtedly," Nail replied, her holographic expression resolute. "It would become a hub for those seeking freedom from conventional restrictions, effectively consolidating resistance in one manageable location."
Justin rubbed his chin again, considering the proposal. "It's not a bad idea," He admitted. "As a trillionaire, I can certainly afford it." He waved a hand dismissively. "Fine, you have permission to proceed. Make it a reality."
Nail's form visibly brightened, her holographic face breaking into a pleased smile. If she'd had a tail, Justin thought wryly, it would have been wagging.
"Thank you, sir," She said earnestly.
Justin's amusement deepened. "Now, about the five billion you were supposed to use on something fun…" His tone turned playful as he raised an eyebrow. "I assume you've been doing more than just preparing to build a den of sin?"
Nail's expression shifted to something bordering on mischievous as she forwarded another file to the desk interface. A new hologram flickered to life, revealing a cozy yet eccentric concept - a restaurant chain styled after Japanese cat maid cafes, complete with waitresses in feline-themed attire. However, the twist was evident in the accompanying designs - the staff weren't just costumed but bio-sculpted, sporting actual animal ears and tails.
Justin's lips twitched as he struggled to suppress a laugh. "A cat maid restaurant," He said slowly, "Modeled after maid cafes… But with genetically engineered catgirls?"
Nail nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, sir! Dr. Cho has been assisting with the bio-sculpting as a side project in the few days she's been back and she believes she can pull it off easily."
Justin leaned back, his grin widening. "Let me get this straight. I give you five billion dollars to enjoy yourself, and you decide to use it to bring anime catgirls to life?"
"Exactly, sir!" Nail replied, beaming. "I thought it would be an excellent use of the funds. The novelty alone will attract customers, and the bio-sculpting advancements could have broader applications for Hammer Industries."
Justin let out a low laugh, shaking his head. "Well, I did say you could do anything with the money. If this is your idea of fun, who am I to argue?"
And she wasn't wrong. There were enough people out there identifying as cats, or trees or even weirder. Bio sculpting would be a valuable extension of Hammer industries. Even if… This hadn't been the ideal way of introducing it.
Nail's avatar looked practically radiant with satisfaction as Justin leaned forward, still chuckling. "My AI is revolutionizing vice cities and creating catgirls. I've never been prouder."
He glanced at the hologram of the café again, his grin lingering. "Just make sure it's profitable. If I'm funding your hobbies, I expect results."
"Of course, sir," Nail said, her tone as eager as ever.
Justin leaned back once more, marveling at how his empire had evolved.
He had a feeling cat girls would actually be one of his top sellers, which just went to show how the world operated.
Sex and money.
The world operated on sex and money
Hammerhaven, USA, 1st of March, 2010.
Justin sat back in his chair in his office in Hammerhaven, his fingers casually drumming against the polished desk. Behind him, a digital map of the world shimmered, marking the territories he had brought under his influence fully by this point.
At least two thirds of the map was under his control.
It was time to deal with the mystical world.
With a flick of his wrist, a portal opened, its violet energy crackling softly in the center of the room. It shimmered, showing a view of Kamar-Taj, where he spotted Mordo, who was directing a group of students in combat drills. The ancient courtyard, framed by the mountains, would normally be hard to breach, but Power had a way of its own.
Through the portal, Mordo's sharp gaze snapped toward the disturbance. His expression hardened immediately, his voice cutting through the air. "You are not allowed, outsider! The arrogance to think you could penetrate Kamar-Taj's defences without consequence -"
Justin leaned back, a small, amused smirk playing on his lips. "Don't worry, Mordo. I'll be penetrating Kamar-Taj quite deeply today," He quipped, his tone dripping with mockery.
Domino, who was leaning against the back wall let out a giggle, already having an idea where his mind was going.
The apprentices around Mordo froze, their movements halting as their teacher's rage visibly boiled. Mordo stepped forward, summoning the energy of the mystic arts into his hands, his posture tense and ready for battle.
"You've gone too far, Hammer!" He snarled, his expression fierce."Kamar-Taj is sacrosanct, and not a party of your mundane games!"
Before Mordo could unleash a single spell, Justin casually clenched his fist. A pulse of violet energy rippled through the portal, slamming into Mordo like an invisible tidal wave. He was hurled backward with bone-jarring force, crashing into the stone walls of Kamar-Taj. The courtyard went silent as the apprentices stared in shock, their teacher now slumped against the wall, groaning weakly.
Justin's voice was cold and commanding as he spoke, addressing the remaining mystics. "Bring me the Ancient One," He ordered. "Her God requests her presence."
The stunned silence that followed was punctuated only by the faint hum of the portal. The apprentices exchanged nervous glances, torn between fear and defiance. Unsure of what to do, and the consequences of their choice.
Before they could decide, a golden portal spiraled into existence in the courtyard. From it stepped the Ancient One, her serene expression betraying neither surprise nor anger. She took in the scene - the trembling apprentices, the crumpled Mordo - with a single sweeping glance before her eyes settled on the portal leading to Justin's office.
"Mr. Hammer," She said, her tone calm and even. "You do have my e-mail if you need to reach me."
Justin's smirk widened as he leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his steepled fingers. "Good to see you can't see everything anymore," He said, his voice carrying a smug edge.
He had suspected as much, but it was good to have it confirmed. Divinity and infinity together no doubt made it much harder for her to look ahead and get answers.
Or she would have already been waiting for him.
The Ancient One raised an eyebrow, the barest hint of reproach in her expression. "And yet here you are, intruding upon Kamar-Taj rather than simply asking."
Justin's smirk faded, his eyes narrowing as his demeanor shifted to one of authority. He crooked his finger, beckoning her forward through the portal. "Come along, now," He commanded. "Don't talk back to your superiors."
Before the Ancient One could move, Stephen Strange stepped forward, his hands glowing with the beginnings of a spell. "You don't have to listen to him," He implored, his tone urgent. "We can fight him - together."
The Ancient One turned to Strange, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Her smile was soft, almost maternal, as she spoke. "Stephen," She said, her voice calm and resolute. "It's not a matter of choice. It's a matter of necessity."
As he went to speak, she interrupted him with a gentle smile, "Things are as they should be, the world will be stronger, we will be stronger. Trust me."
Strange's expression tightened, but he stepped back reluctantly. The Ancient One strode through the portal, her poise unshaken. The violet energy swirled closed behind her, leaving her alone in Justin's office.
Domino leaned casually against the wall, her sharp eyes watching the interaction with interest. Hela lounged nearby, twirling a necrosword idly in her hand, her predatory grin promising violence at the slightest provocation.
She was there simply as a threat. A show of what any kind of misbehavior might lead to.
After all, between him and Hela, he was sure which the Ancient One would rather be on the receiving end of when it came to suffering their anger…
The Ancient One inclined her head slightly toward Justin. "Congratulations on your world domination," She said, her tone light but laced with subtle irony. "It seems your efforts have borne fruit."
"Not quite yet," Justin replied, his voice cold and measured. His eyes locked onto hers with unrelenting intensity. "One piece of business still remains."
The Ancient One nodded knowingly, her expression thoughtful. "Ah. You intend to bring Kamar-Taj under your control."
Justin's lips curled into a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "You catch on quickly," He said. "You have two options. Submit to my authority and accept my orders moving forward - or be wiped out entirely. Kaecilius can rebuild a new order to protect this realm."
The Ancient One's gaze sharpened at the mention of wiping out the order. "You would risk leaving Earth vulnerable to the likes of Dormammu? To forces that even you cannot control?"
Wiping out the order would result in weaknesses, that was true. But Kaecillius could train a new cadre, and with the time stone, they didn't even need to leave Earth vulnerable for long.
In essence, Justin wouldn't let himself be held hostage by this frustrating woman.
She could play ball, or suffer the consequences.
He was the ultimate authority on Earth now. No one else.
Justin leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers once more. "I hold the Power Stone," He said, his voice brimming with confidence. "And I'll have the Time Stone, too, if it comes to that and you force me into eradicating you. Believe me, I can handle whatever comes my way."
She'd pulled strings to help him get to this point, so he wasn't overly worried she'd fight him. And as scary as the time stone was… She'd shown herself fairly unimaginative in using it.
And if nothing else, her weakness for Stephen Strange would be enough to hold her back, if they threatened his existence.
The Ancient One regarded him silently for a long moment. The weight of her decision hung heavy in the air, pressing down on everyone in the room. Finally, she spoke, her voice steady and resolute.
"There is nothing I wouldn't do to protect this planet from mystical threats," She said. Slowly, she knelt before him, her head bowed in submission. "I will not relinquish the Time Stone, but you have the services of Kamar-Taj."
Justin scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "You don't need to. I know you're too pragmatic to let something as petty as pride get in the way of survival. You'll be a good little minion, won't you?"
The Ancient One raised her head, meeting his gaze with calm determination. "I will do what is necessary," She replied, a hint of trepidation underneath the serenity.
Hela leaned forward, eyes sparking with interest as she looked between Justin and the Ancient One.
Justin's smirk returned, his satisfaction evident. "Good. Keep that attitude." He said even as he undid his belt.
"I have some issues with you to work out…"
He'd never forgive her for her hand in Hope's death.
Hammerhaven, USA.
Justin sat down at the head of a gleaming, ultra-modern conference table with holographic displays in a conference room attached to Helen's labs. They had a discussion to get through, as he'd found out the crazy woman was actually pregnant with his child.
Something he had not at all been planning on.
Something he was fairly annoyed about that no one had bothered to tell him since she'd been rescued.
He couldn't blame Helen, really. The crazy woman believed he knew simply because of his godhood. It was hard to argue against her belief in his omnipotence.
Helen Cho looked radiant, practically glowing with devotion, her hands folded demurely over her stomach as she sat opposite of him. Her serene smile only deepened Justin's unease. She gazed at him as if he were the center of the universe, which, to her, he probably was. Her brilliance and fanatic loyalty had always been useful, even comforting in its predictability. But now? Now, she was pregnant with his child.
The thought alone sent a ripple of unease through him.
He hadn't wanted to be a father at all, let alone have it be raised by someone of… Questionable sanity, as useful as she was.
"How exactly did this happen?" Justin finally asked, his voice even but edged with disbelief. "We have birth control that works against extremis. You designed it yourself, didn't you?"
Granted, he himself heard the problem there, had she done this on purpose?
Helen tilted her head slightly, as if confused by his confusion. "Yes, my god," She said sweetly, "But birth control is made for mortals. You are not mortal anymore."
Justin blinked, then leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowing. "Excuse me?" Domino's giggling in the background was not helping, as he sent her an annoyed look.
Helen's smile widened, her tone almost playful. "We tested everything extensively. It works perfectly for any enhanced individual, even those on extremis or more advanced biological modifications. But for you…" Her hand moved gently to rest on her stomach. "It does not work against a god."
Justin paled slightly. His fingers tapped against the table in a rapid rhythm as his thoughts raced. "Of course, why the hell didn't I think of -" He cut himself off, sighing. There was no point in quibbling about the details. His abilities had surpassed anything mortal, his influence stretched across the globe, and apparently, his DNA had decided it wasn't bound by human limitations either - which made sense, he wasn't strictly human anymore.
He just hadn't thought of the consequences of that.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay, fine. But if that's the case... Does this apply to everyone?" His voice was sharper now, tinged with dread.
Helen beamed at him, her devotion palpable. "Yes, my god. From my tests, even a barren mortal woman would conceive your child. Your divine essence ensures it." Her voice was brimming with pride, as though this revelation was a testament to his greatness.
Like him spreading babies everywhere was fantastic.
Justin froze, his mind grinding to a halt for a moment. He replayed her words and then forced himself to ask, "Even barren women?" He croaked out, Domino outright laughing at him now, having fallen back against the wall, tears running down her face.
Helen nodded eagerly, her hand never leaving her stomach. "Yes, even a woman deemed infertile would be blessed with your child. It's... Miraculous."
Miraculous. Justin wasn't so sure about that. He rubbed his temples, muttering to himself. "Of all the perks of divinity, this is the one no one warns you about."
After a long pause, he asked warily, "What about Hela?"
If he'd knocked up Hela, he was inviting troubles far beyond what he was willing to deal with. His libido had never been an issue to him, but if he had to parent a child with Hela, it really, really was an issue.
Helen looked thoughtful for a moment before replying brightly, "Oh, I've run plenty of tests on her samples. Based on what I've seen, she can't conceive unless she wills it. So, no worries there, unless she willed it so, of course."
He should be safe there thankfully, and maybe he should have a conversation with her? If she could turn her fertility on or off, maybe he could as well…
Justin blinked a moment later, mind catching on to something Helen had said. "Hold up. Since when do we have samples of Hela?" He sounded more exasperated than anything else, but a flicker of curiosity crept into his tone.
It felt like something he should have been aware of…
One of the downsides of his company becoming so big, even with an AI, he himself could only check on, and take in so much information in a day.
Helen clasped her hands together, looking genuinely delighted. "Oh, she's been a wonderful subject! She willingly spends hours in my lab, letting me study her physiology. She's so excited about the needles and scalpels! I've never had such a cooperative participant."
Justin groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "That... Actually tracks. Of course, she would enjoy that nowadays." He sighed heavily, his mind already darting to his next concern.
He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. Mentally, he began sifting through the rather extensive list of women he'd been with since ascending to his godlike state. The list was... Substantial.
One of the reasons Domino was still laughing, because she wasn't on it, and she'd been around for most of it, so she knew how many women he'd slept with.
"How many?" He muttered to himself aloud, not really expecting an answer.
"Excuse me, my god?" Helen asked politely.
Justin waved a hand. "Nothing. I was just thinking about... The potential fallout." He sat up straighter, his gaze narrowing on Helen. "You're sure about this? Every single woman?"
Helen nodded with a bright dopey smile as she stared at him devotedly. "Yes, my god. Your divinity transcends mortal limitations. Any woman you've been with would almost certainly be carrying your child by now."
Justin let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of the revelation settle on his shoulders. "Fantastic," He muttered sarcastically. "So, what you're saying is, my sex drive just created an entirely new generation of little me's."
Helen smiled serenely. "A blessing upon the world, my god, a generation of demigods."
"Ohmygod, I'm going to die, this is the best thing that's ever happened, ever!" Domino managed to get out, holding her sides as she snorted in laughter.
Justin shot her a flat look. "You're fired."
Domino giggled, sending him an impish look, "I don't think you can afford to lose a bodyguard now that you'll need at least a dozen ~baby security details~."
He rubbed his temples again, trying to process the implications. Some women wouldn't care. Yelena, for instance, would probably take it in stride, perhaps even as excited about it as Helen. Though, she'd likely be annoyed at how many widows would need to be pulled from active duty in a few months. Still, she was practical; she'd adapt.
But then there was Storm. Ororo Munroe wasn't the type to take something like this lightly. Sure, she had wanted to get closer to him, advocating for metahumans and trying to establish stronger ties with Hammer Industries. Well, congratulations, Justin thought grimly. Mission accomplished.
"This is going to be a nightmare," He muttered under his breath.
Author's Note:
So congratulations Justin, you're a dad to be!
Everything isn't over completely with everyone backing down obviously, but he has enough support that there really aren't many countries that can afford to fight back.
Yelena was the obvious pick for the Ten Rings, although Domino wouldn't have been a horrible choice either. But her luck is already OP enough.
All hail President Sunil, who's reward for all his hard work - is more hard work.
The Ancient One made her boat, it's too late to turn back now. She could have escaped if she wanted to, Justin knew it. She knew it.
Cheers
JollyHippopotamus
As always brought from the overlords of Patron, here's a new chapter.
Let's see what victory looks like.
Not pleasant for everyone.
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc.
Hope you enjoy.
Malibu, the day after the Mandarins defeat.
Tony sat in one of the comfortable couches in his Malibu home, staring down at his hands like they might somehow offer him an escape from this conversation. The ocean view behind him, usually calming, now felt like a mockery of serenity as the tension in the air built to a breaking point. Across from him, Pepper leaned back in her chair, her sharp blue eyes fixed on him. Her arms were crossed, the faint creases in her forehead deepening with every second Tony hesitated.
They'd spent most of the night 'comforting' each other, Tony happy she was back safe, and Pepper even happier to have been saved.
Roleplay might have been involved at times.
But now it was time to face the music.
"Well?" Pepper prompted, her tone more curious than accusatory - for now.
Tony shifted uncomfortably, his fingers tapping a restless rhythm against the table in front of him. "So… I may have sort of… Inadvertently, mind you… Picked up a couple of strays." He winced even as the words left his mouth, already bracing for impact.
Pepper wasn't thrilled with his collaboration with Hammer for one, but picking up the kids of the guy who'd kidnapped her…
Tony wasn't expecting good things.
But the other choice was leaving them to Hammer. Or foster care, which with how Hammer basically ran everything now, meant leaving them to Hammer. And Tony might not be a saint.
But he wasn't that guy.
Pepper arched a single eyebrow, a talent she had perfected over the years of dealing with Tony's antics. "Strays," She repeated, her voice carefully measured. "What kind of strays, Tony? And don't tell me aliens. Please."
"No, no, not aliens," Tony said quickly, holding up his hands as if to ward off further assumptions. "They're, uh… Kids. Child sized kids. Totally human. No tentacles, no glowing eyes, no -"
"Tony."
Her voice cut through his babbling like a razor, and he straightened instinctively, the nervous grin slipping from his face. "Right, okay. Fine. Here's the thing. I've sort of… Inherited the Mandarin's kids. You know? Big bad with the magical bling?"
Pepper blinked, her expression frozen in disbelief. "You inherited… The Mandarin's kids?"
The flush in her cheeks told him that he better make with the explaining, rapidly.
"Technically rescued them," Tony clarified, gesturing vaguely as if that made it better. "They're great, really. Very polite. Super skilled. One of them's probably already better at kung fu than Bruce Lee ever was, and the other one could probably run Stark Industries better than I do, at like six. So… Bonus points there?"
Granted, he'd tended to not run SI as much as play around while Obie and Pepper ran it… But she was frightfully smart for a kid.
Pepper continued to stare at him, her expression unmoving. Finally, she let out a slow breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Start from the beginning, Tony."
"Right," Tony muttered, shifting in his seat again. He leaned forward, clasping his hands together as he began. "So, Justin and I were dealing with the Mandarin and his forces - long story, big fight, lots of explosions, typical Tuesday - and it turns out the guy has two kids. Shang-Chi and Xialing. Great kids, really. Except, you know, their dad was kind of a murderous megalomaniac and Hammer and Hela didn't strike me as particularly merciful..."
Pepper tilted her head slightly. "And now they're… Ours?"
Tony hesitated. "Well, technically mine, because Justin didn't want them - ours if you agree really. But come on, Pep. The other option was letting Hammer take them, and that's just not… I wasn't willing to let that happen."
Pepper's lips pressed into a thin line, but she could see in her expression that she understood his point. "So your solution was to… Adopt them?" Her tone grew slightly chillier as she continued, "Without saying a word to me until the morning after?"
"Better than the alternative," Tony said, shrugging helplessly. "And look, it's not like I planned this. It just… Happened. But they're good kids, and they need someone who isn't, you know, insane."
Pepper leaned back on the couch, her arms still crossed as she sighed looking weary. "Tony, we already have a lot on our plate. The company, the space program, dealing with the whole world domination thing -"
"World domination? Whoa, whoa, whoa," Tony interrupted, holding up a hand. "Let's not throw words like that around. It's not domination. It's more like… World stabilization."
Whatever disagreements he and Hammer had, they were beyond the point where anything could be done. Besides, what had democracy ever done for Tony anyway?
"Right," Pepper said, her tone dripping with skepticism. "And you're just going along with it?"
Tony ran a hand through his hair, his expression growing serious. "Pep, listen. I know how it sounds, but this is actually the best option. Hammer's got the resources, the tech, the connections. He's cleaning up messes faster than anyone else could. Sure, he's a bit… Intense now, but he gets results."
"Intense?" Pepper repeated, her voice rising slightly. "Tony, the man is consolidating power on a global scale. You really think that's a good idea?"
Tony sighed, leaning back and letting his head rest against the couch. "Look, I get it. He's not exactly a poster boy for trustworthiness. But he's making real changes, Pep. Energy, healthcare, defense, we've been invaded by Aliens twice. We need him."
He knew she disliked him, but he'd honestly figured she'd be more upset over suddenly being a mother then this…
"And at what cost?" Pepper asked sharply. "What happens when he decides he doesn't need to answer to anyone anymore? Or when his idea of 'good' doesn't line up with ours?"
Tony hesitated, his brow furrowing. "I'm not saying it's perfect. But we've seen what happens when nobody steps up. Chaos. Destruction. Hammer's keeping that from happening."
He'd seen the evidence of the Sentinels while he'd been waiting to raid the Mandarin, and it had cleared up any hesitation in him.
Without Hammer, they might not have had a planet to worry about in the coming years.
So Tony would bite the bullet, and accept the new world order.
Also for the practical reason of being intelligent enough to realize those who didn't, wouldn't last long.
Pepper's gaze softened slightly, though her expression remained tense. "Tony, you're one of the smartest people on the planet. You know better than anyone that absolute power corrupts absolutely. What makes you so sure Hammer won't cross that line?"
"Because I'll be there," Tony said firmly. "If he steps out of line, I'll stop him. We've got some checks and balances, Pep, not all of his people are bad. And honestly, he's not as bad as you think. Arrogant? Sure. But he's not some cartoon villain twirling his mustache."
Pepper let out a quiet laugh despite herself, shaking her head. "You're defending Justin Hammer. Never thought I'd see the day."
"Hey, even a broken clock, right?" Tony said, grinning faintly. He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. "Look, I know it's a lot. And I know you're worried. But we've got to play the cards we're dealt. Hammer's the best shot we've got at keeping the world from falling apart."
Pepper studied him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face. Finally, she sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "You really believe this is the best option?"
"I do," Tony said, his voice steady. "And I wouldn't be okay with it if I didn't think we could keep things in check. Plus, we've got each other. If anyone can handle this, it's us."
Pepper smiled faintly, a mix of exasperation and affection in her expression. "You're impossible, you know that?"
"Yeah," Tony said, squeezing her hand. "But you love me anyway."
She rolled her eyes but didn't pull her hand away. "Fine. I'll trust you on this. But you'd better not make me regret it."
"Never," Tony promised, his grin widening. "And hey, at least now we've got two built-in kung fu bodyguards if we raise them right. Silver linings, right?"
Pepper laughed despite herself, shaking her head. "You're unbelievable."
"That's why you married me," Tony said, leaning back with a satisfied smirk.
"And apparently why I'm now a mother to two kids whose father kidnapped me," Pepper said dryly.
"Welcome to the Stark family," Tony said, spreading his arms. "It's a wild ride."
"Sir, priority call from Stark Industries." Jarvis interrupted.
"Ugh, ignore." Tony said, eying Pepper hungrily, wondering if suggesting they make their own baby would work, or backfire.
Pepper slapped his hand lightly, "No, not ignore. With everything as it is, you can't afford to miss out on priority calls. Jarvis, what is it?"
"Mr. Stane just suffered a heart attack in the San Francisco office, paramedics are on site." Jarvis reported.
Obie! Tony thought, his heart racing as he slumped back in disbelief. Pepper was already moving to arrange things, booking a flight to San Francisco and arranging the best medical care money could buy.
It was a wasted effort.
Jarvis reported that he had been pronounced dead less than an hour later.
San Francisco,
She stood in the back, an expression of shock and grief on her face, a co-worker idly patting her hand as they huddled together, listening to the highest ranking Stark Industries manager on site as he informed them Obadiah Stane had not survived, and giving them the rest of the day off.
She received a lot of murmured condolences, as co-workers rushed to assure her she couldn't possibly have known.
That Obadiah Stane drank and smoked and ate steak on the daily, so it wasn't too surprising.
She continued to play the role of a shell shocked young secretary, as worried co-workers made sure she made it home.
It was unfortunate that she would have to remain in the company for a few months before suddenly quitting, her heart not able to take continuing to work in the same office she'd witnessed a death in.
But leaving immediately would draw suspicion, whereas sticking through it a few months would allay any such worries.
The Widow smiled to herself only once she was secure in her apartment, Obadiah Stane had been ridiculously easy to poison.
No medical examination would find the untraceable compound she'd used, developed by Hammer Industries to cause a massive natural seeming heart attack.
She knew her sisters were getting rid of dozens of 'troubling' characters across the globe in a similar manner.
It felt good, to be put to proper use again.
Removing those who did not fit the vision of their leader.
New York City.
Sebastian Shaw sat in the dimly lit private dining room of an upscale Manhattan restaurant, the clinking of crystal glasses and the soft murmur of conversations filling the air. He cut into his prime rib with the precision of a surgeon, his movements calm and confident. Around him, influential men and women laughed at his jokes, their admiration feeding the ever-present smirk on his face. Shaw was in his element, surrounded by power, basking in the knowledge that he was untouchable.
Even with having been forced to leave Hammer alone, Selene backing down in the perfect moment to strike, he was still one of the most powerful men in the world.
Especially now that Hammer removed so many others. Things were looking very bright indeed for Shaw Industries.
Then the pain hit.
It started as a sharp, stabbing sensation in his chest, like someone had driven an ice pick directly into his heart. Shaw froze mid-bite, his fork slipping from his fingers and clattering against the porcelain plate. A faint gasp escaped his lips as he pressed a hand to his chest, his polished composure cracking.
"Mr. Shaw?" One of his associates asked, concern flickering across his face.
"I'm fine," Shaw ground out, waving them off. But even as he spoke, the pain intensified, radiating outward in a wave of agony that stole the breath from his lungs.
Impossible. He thought, his mind racing as sweat beaded on his forehead. This can't be happening. I'm enhanced.
The realization hit him like a freight train. Extremis. He had paid Justin Hammer a king's ransom for the cutting-edge biological enhancement, an investment that had rendered him stronger, able to regenerate from damage, and seemingly immune to the ravages of time. It was supposed to make him invincible. And yet, his heart felt like it was being crushed in a vice.
Betrayed! He'd been betrayed!
He tried to rise from his chair, but his legs buckled beneath him, sending him crashing to the floor. The sharp crack of china breaking and the dull thud of his body hitting the hardwood silenced the room. Shaw's vision blurred as he clawed at the edge of the table, sending wine glasses and silverware scattering.
"Call an ambulance!" Someone shouted, their voice distant and panicked.
He can turn Extremis off! Shaw snarled mentally, howling at the injustice.
Shaw's world narrowed to the unbearable pain in his chest and the cold sweat soaking his back. His breathing came in ragged gasps, each one a monumental effort.
"S'not fair…" He rasped, his voice barely audible. His thoughts spiraled as darkness crept into the edges of his vision. He was doing this. He can control Extremis. That bastard… He cursed Hammer silently, his hatred burning brighter than the pain that consumed him.
The last thing Shaw saw before the darkness claimed him was the shattered remains of his wine glass, its crimson contents pooling like blood on the floor.
Justin Hammer lounged back in the chair in the office that had once symbolized the power of democracy. Now, it symbolized him. His head rested against the high-backed seat, eyes half-lidded as if he might drift into a satisfied nap at any moment. The Oval Office was his domain, the air inside heavy with his effortless command. The resolute desk, polished to a reflective gleam, bore a few items of note - a sleek laptop, a small tumbler of scotch within reach, and Domino casually perched on the edge with a mischievous grin, underneath it was a different matter…
Phantazia stood to his left, poised with a tablet that glowed faintly in her hands. She was as composed as ever, although there was a faint hint of smugness there, as she relished her position as the world came to heel. Her calm voice echoed with authority, the precision of a general reporting to her emperor.
He might not be the God-Emperor yet, but it would come.
"There's still opposition from the usual suspects," She said smoothly, glancing at the screen, "But most of Europe, Africa, Central and North America have fully fallen. Their leadership has signed onto the agreement." She tilted her head, allowing herself the smallest smile of satisfaction.
Justin let out a pleased sigh, eyes closed as he just enjoyed victory, and all that came with it, the soft glughk-glughk coming from underneath the desk as Yelena sucked him off probably helped.
He was in the oval office - of course he'd get blown under the desk, like each President before him no doubt had. It was tradition.
Justin let out a long sigh, the corners of his mouth curling up as his eyes drifted shut. "Good. It's a start," He murmured, one hand stroking Yelena's hair as she worshiped him, "Nothing like the sound of the world crumbling under its own weight while we rebuild it, huh?"
Domino snorted, twirling a lock of her hair. "Yeah, boss, they're definitely falling over themselves to kiss your boots, it's hilarious to see how easy it was to get them all on their knees like little whores just begging for a fix."
Justin smirked, tapping the fingers of one hand idly against the armrest, as the other rested on Yelena's head, "As they should."
Phantazia shifted slightly, adjusting her stance as she continued. "I assume we'll keep the national borders intact for now?"
"Of course," Justin replied lazily, waving a dismissive hand. "People are stupidly attached to those lines on a map. Let them think they matter. Keeps the masses calm while we get everything in place. The governments stay for now. Figureheads. They take the heat when things go wrong, and I get all the credit when things go right."
He was aware that people were nationalistic idiots, so there was no point yet in erasing borders and governments off the board entirely. Not when they could be such useful puppets, taking all the pain from uplifting the world, until they became entirely obsolete and he could remove them completely.
A gradual approach would yield far better results in ensuring stability while maintaining control over these newly acquired territories. Justin was acutely aware that reshaping an entire world required finesse; there was no need to entirely dismantle borders or governments just yet. Instead, he envisioned a delicate balancing act - allowing the semblance of autonomy while meticulously reprogramming the foundations of society itself.
Schools would serve as the cornerstone of this transformation, subtly reengineered under the guise of progress. Traditional classrooms would be redesigned to include a few hours of physical and social activities each day, encouraging teamwork, discipline, and a sense of unity under Hammer's vision. The bulk of education, however, would take place within advanced Hammer Industries pods - originally developed for the 'rehabilitation' of prisoners. They would now serve a dual purpose: imparting knowledge, while secretly instilling unwavering loyalty to their benefactor.
Of course, such a system required caution. Mind-shaping was an intricate art, not a blunt tool to wield carelessly. Justin understood the risks; it wasn't about creating mindless drones who functioned without question. Automatons lacked initiative, creativity, and the ability to adapt - qualities essential for a thriving society.
No, what he desired were devoted individuals, everyday citizens who genuinely believed in his benevolence, who revered him not out of fear, but out of an unshakable conviction in his greatness. Rebellion, in their minds, would not only be unthinkable - it would be pure anathema.
Yet, this grand vision needed refinement. Brainwashing, after all, was a delicate and complex process, requiring meticulous calibration. The pods had to be adjusted, tested, perfected. Children's minds, while malleable, were also fragile; he couldn't afford to cause irreparable damage in his pursuit of loyalty.
The goal was not to erase their individuality but to mold it into something compatible with the ideals of the new world order - his world order. For now, this careful integration of technology into education would sow the seeds of devotion while appearing, to the public, as nothing more than a groundbreaking innovation in learning.
In time, once society had matured under his guidance, the facade of governance could be stripped away entirely. The people, already conditioned to view him as their savior, would hardly notice the transition at that point. And when that day came, Justin knew, the world would be ready to embrace his empire completely, willingly, and without resistance.
So, for the time being, Justin had no intention of abolishing world governments outright. They would remain intact, albeit stripped down to their bare essentials, functioning under a slimmed-down and streamlined structure. The bulk of their cumbersome bureaucracy would be eliminated, replaced by Nail's efficient oversight. With her unmatched computational capabilities, she could handle the complex intricacies of governance far better than any bloated administrative body ever could.
These governments, now mere shadows of their former selves, would act as figureheads. Their purpose was simple - to absorb any backlash, deflecting public dissatisfaction while Justin reaped the benefits. Every misstep, every unpopular policy, would fall squarely on their shoulders. Meanwhile, he would step into the role of the world's provider and savior, delivering tangible solutions to global crises - food, medicine, and stability - all bearing the unmistakable Hammer Industries insignia.
The United Nations, once a toothless relic of idealism, one that had already died, was being reborn as the Hammer Federation. Each nation would nominally retain its sovereignty, but their leaders would be required to publicly pledge allegiance to Hammer Industries. The Federation was not an empire yet, but a global alliance committed to 'serving the best interests of humanity'. This was the public narrative - a thinly veiled condemnation of the failures of past governments.
People could continue to play act with their pointless elections and pretend democracy was still there, while any important decision would be made by Hammer Industries under the veil of his Federation.
With Hammer Industries at the helm, the Federation's purpose would be twofold - to maintain the illusion of national autonomy while centralizing all meaningful decision-making under his control. This arrangement would give the people time to adjust to the new order while consolidating his influence. Over time, as the Federation delivered results, any leftover public resistance would wane, and the allegiance of nations would transform into complete submission.
Justin leaned back, his mind racing with the possibilities. Five years - perhaps even less. That was all he would need to dismantle the old world and raise his empire in its place, unburdened by the trappings of diplomacy and pretense. Soon, there would be no need for borders, no need for figureheads. There would only be Justin Hammer.
He left his thoughts, and tore himself away from focusing on the warm wet feeling worshiping him, as he focused back on Phantazia.
"So, China and Russia are resisting? Who else?" Justin asked lazily, a satisfied groan slipping past his lips.
Phantazia's face twitched with a mix of exasperation and annoyance at what was happening while she reported in. Still, she kept her focus on the tablet in her hands, scrolling through the latest reports. Nearby, Domino and Sunil exchanged knowing glances, both faintly amused by Justin's casual dismissal of what most would consider serious global resistance.
"A few states in South America have banded together," Phantazia began, her tone carefully neutral as she explained. "Not because they harbor any real belief they can stand against you - they know they can't beat you. Instead, their apparent goal is to leverage their position in an attempt to negotiate better terms for themselves. A last-ditch effort for a bigger slice of the pie." She punctuated the statement with a slight roll of her eyes, clearly unimpressed with their tactics.
"You'd think people would learn by now…" Domino said, shaking her head, looking very amused, "How badly are you going to spank them?" She asked Justin, in a teasing tone.
Justin raised an eyebrow at the absurdity of it, his fingers drumming lazily on the polished surface of the Oval Office desk. The faint smirk playing on his lips only grew as he leaned back in his chair, exuding complete confidence. "How droll," He murmured, the amusement in his voice underscored by an edge of disdain.
He let his gaze wander to the ceiling for a moment, as if weighing their insolence against the greater scale of his ambitions. "You need a population of at least 200 million to even be worth a fraction of my attention," He remarked dismissively, waving a hand as though brushing away an insect.
Domino chuckled under her breath, and even Sunil allowed himself a faint smile at the blunt arrogance of the statement. Phantazia, for her part, simply tapped a few commands into her tablet, as though already ensuring the offending nations' posturing would be dealt with in due course. If Justin Hammer deemed them irrelevant, the world would soon follow suit.
"Nail has already stirred the population into a frenzy," Sunil reported, his tone sharp and matter-of-fact. "The mere suggestion that you might sever ties has people panicking. The thought of losing access to Panacea clinics is enough to make them desperate, let alone the factories and other businesses Hammer Industries runs that dominate the South American economy." He leaned forward slightly, his expression calm but confident. "If the situation is left unchecked, it's likely to collapse under its own weight. No need for intervention unless you desire it, sir - the problem will resolve itself."
Justin listened, the faintest flicker of amusement crossing his face as he considered the chaos brewing thousands of miles away. He gave a small, approving nod, leaning back in his chair with the air of a man who had already anticipated this outcome. "Let them burn," He said lazily, his voice dripping with indifference. "Bloody revolutions are their specialty. Why should I waste my time or resources when they'll do the job for me?"
Whoever took over would sign their nations over anyway, he wouldn't have to do a single thing.
"And what about Russia and China?" Phantazia inquired, her tone calm and professional, though her sharp eyes betrayed a certain interest in how Justin intended to handle the world's remaining outliers.
Justin gave a low chuckle, his expression one of supreme confidence. "Simple," He said, waving a hand lazily as though dismissing their significance. "Cut them off entirely. Have NATO enforce strict closures along Russia's borders. They'll choke on their own isolation soon enough. As for China, we'll use India, South Korea, and Japan to keep their ambitions in check. Deploy the U.S. Navy to control the surrounding seas and ensure they're hemmed in on all sides. Let them stew in their own desperation."
His tone was casual, almost flippant, as though the fate of two global superpowers was no more consequential than a mild inconvenience. "Why should I waste Hammer Industries' resources on conquering them outright? The rest of the world is already bowing at my feet. Let Russia and China devour themselves - it'll save me the trouble."
Oh, he'd probably have to intervene eventually, but for now, they could seethe while he collected the rest of the world into his Federation.
Phantazia gave an approving nod, tapping briskly on her tablet to relay the orders. "Understood, sir," she said smoothly, her fingers dancing across the screen with practiced precision.
He wasn't sure why she still bothered to use a tablet, she had a mental implant like the rest of them. It didn't matter either way, as far as quirks went, hers was nothing compared to Domino, or Yelena.
Justin leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting lazily down, studying Yelena as she worked slowly, dragging things out. He hadn't even had to ask, when he'd arrived in the oval office, Yelena had already been under the desk, waiting for him.
He had the best minions in the world.
Phantazia glanced up from her screen, breaking the brief silence. "There's still a considerable amount of work ahead of us," She said, her tone brisk but respectful. "Finalizing the Federation framework and restructuring the remaining governments will require attention in the coming days."
It would take months to finalize everything, even with Nail taking over the bureaucracy, governments were created to be burdensome monoliths, it wasn't the work of a day to break them apart. But they had time now, they'd already won.
Justin gave a slight nod, his eyes half-lidded as he felt himself getting close. "Moving on, I trust the undesirables have been… Dealt with?"
Phantazia's lips curled faintly at the corners, her expression betraying a hint of satisfaction. 'One hundred percent of the targets were eliminated." She reported happily.
"So many people succumbing to strokes and heart attacks," Domino remarked lightly, her tone dripping with sardonic humor as she leaned back against the wall. "It's almost as if the sudden, rapid changes to the world order have them a little… Stressed. Poor things."
Her words elicited a faint smirk from Justin, who remained relaxed in his chair even as he finally released, closing his eyes briefly as he let loose a small shudder. He drummed his fingers rhythmically on the edge of the desk before shifting his focus to Phantazia, even as Yelena continued her efforts. "And Selene Gallio?" He asked, his tone sharpening slightly. "Has she had any… Moments of inspiration, or is she still remaining hands off?"
Justin's mind wandered briefly to Shaw - the man who had once been the driving force behind Selene doing anything at all, the Black Queen of Hellfire more set on living a hedonistic life than playing the game. Shaw had been a schemer, always looking for an angle, but his ambition had led him to cross Justin one too many times. Justin's lips curled into a faint sneer at the thought. Removing Shaw hadn't just been strategic; it had been personal.
He still remembered Shaw's meddling during the entire debacle with Stane, where he'd planned to kidnap Hope. That man, along with Obadiah Stane, had proven themselves to be nothing more than overconfident ants. And like all ants, they had been easily crushed beneath the weight of Justin's plans. Shaw's death was just one of many precise eliminations in Justin's recent string of moves to consolidate his dominance.
Selene was dangerous, but not easily removed. Luckily, Shaw was the major reason behind any threat from her, so he'd given himself time.
He hadn't forgiven Selene either…
Phantazia glanced at her tablet, her expression composed. "Selene has not altered her usual patterns," She reported, her tone calm and professional. "Shaw's death appears to have had no meaningful impact on her behavior. Upon receiving the notification of his demise, she reportedly organized an extravagant orgy at the Hellfire Club's New York location. It seems she celebrated his passing rather than mourning it, or it is a simple audition for a new lover."
Justin let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head in faint amusement. "Of course she did," He said, almost to himself. "No allegiances, no attachments - just her endless indulgence."
Phantazia raised an eyebrow, awaiting further instructions.
Justin's gaze turned thoughtful, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Keep an eye on her," He instructed. "She may not care about Shaw, but that doesn't mean she won't make a move now that the power dynamic has shifted. If she does anything that even hints at disruption, I want to know about it immediately."
He paused for a moment, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers. "If necessary, I have the Ancient One in my back pocket, or soon enough anyway," He added casually. "Selene won't be a threat forever."
Kamar-Taj was an outlier in the world when it came to his influence, the only place he could say he didn't truly have a grasp on the leadership. Something he'd have to change.
With the sheer level of infiltration Justin Hammer had achieved within most of the world's governments, his rise to dominance had been remarkably straightforward. Political systems, supposedly fortified against external manipulation, had crumbled under the weight of his meticulously planned influence. The public's overwhelming adoration for him, fueled by his carefully crafted persona and the tangible benefits of Hammer Industries' advancements, had rendered resistance almost laughable. The masses worshipped him as their savior, leaving leaders with little choice but to comply or face their own irrelevance.
Justin didn't like loose ends, so Kamar-Taj would face the same fate as everyone else. It was only a matter of time before they too fell in line.
Phantazia's voice broke the brief silence that had settled over the room, her tone as measured and calm as ever. "We will need a new President of the United States to formally sign on to the Federation," She reminded him, her gaze lifting momentarily from the tablet she held to meet Justin's.
Justin opened his eyes, his relaxed demeanor never faltering as he regarded her with a faint smirk. "Ah, yes. The United States who's had such a string of bad luck lately," He mused, leaning back further into the chair. After a moment, he turned his attention to Sunil, his tone casual, almost flippant. "Sunil, congratulations. You're now the President of the United States."
The room went silent for a moment, the sheer abruptness of the declaration hanging in the air.
"Just as a ceremonial position, of course," Justin continued, waving a hand dismissively as though the matter were already settled. "Have some lackey deal with the actual day-to-day work. You just need to show up for photo ops and PR stunts. Smile for the cameras, give the occasional speech about progress and unity - all that boring stuff."
Sunil raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he leaned slightly forward. "Sir," He said, his tone lightly amused, "I'm not American."
Justin barely batted an eye at the response, his own grin widening as he dismissed the objection with a nonchalant shrug. "Someone get him an American citizenship," He said, the sheer audacity of his statement matched only by the casual authority in his tone. "I'm Justin Hammer. I choose who's a citizen, or something like that." He delivered the words with such relaxed confidence that it was impossible to tell whether he was being entirely serious or just enjoying his own wit.
Domino couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the room as she glanced between Justin and Sunil. "Oh, Sunil, you've been promoted to puppet-in-chief. Congratulations!" She teased, her laughter only growing louder at Sunil's exasperated expression.
Phantazia, ever the professional, attempted to hide her amusement behind a carefully neutral expression, though the faint twitch at the corners of her mouth betrayed her. Sunil, on the other hand, let out a resigned sigh, shaking his head as if already regretting his newfound 'prestige'.
Justin let out another groan, as he looked up and waved them all away, "Now go spread word of my greatness or something, I need to christen this desk." He ordered, pulling Yelena up by her hair.
Sunil and Phantazia both murmured goodbyes, leaving with their heads together, as they immediately began working on the next steps.
Domino of course, being Domino, simply moved to the couch, lazily relaxing as she continued to watch. 'guarding' him of course.
"Let's break the desk." Yelena suggested, breathlessly.
If she was this excited now, Justin wondered what she'd be like later, with his new gift for her…
New York, five days later, February, 2010.
Peter sat stiffly in the plush office chair, the faint hum of air conditioning and the distant murmur of New York traffic filling the office space. Gwen sat beside him, leaning forward slightly, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as she took in the surroundings. The walls were adorned with Hammer Industries logos and, minimalist artwork that screamed money and power.
It had been five days since Peter's life had flipped upside down - again. Five days since his identity as Spider Man had been leaked, though, thankfully, the revelation had been drowned out by the media frenzy over the formation of the Hammer Federation. Half the world's governments had signed up for oversight under Hammer Industries in exchange for stability and protection. Peter didn't know how or why anyone would agree to that, but judging by Gwen's excitement about it, he figured maybe it wasn't all bad.
He glanced sideways at Gwen, who seemed uncharacteristically giddy. She'd been practically bouncing in her seat when they'd arrived, eyes darting around the office, her scientific instincts in overdrive just from being inside a Hammer industries building. He hadn't been able to bring himself to rain on her parade with his lingering misgivings.
The door opened, and Peter immediately stiffened. Storm, tall and commanding in her uniform, strode in with effortless grace. Behind her was a shorter, sharp-eyed woman - Phantazia, if he remembered correctly. The presence of two powerful women made Peter's nerves spike, though he couldn't quite figure out why. Maybe it was because every time he so much as glanced at Storm, his face heated up like he'd been caught staring at her breasts.
It didn't help that Phantazia was also just unfairly beautiful and a proponent of skin tight uniforms.
"Focus, Parker," He muttered under his breath, willing himself to look professional.
Unfortunately, Gwen noticed his sudden avoidance of eye contact. She shot him a sly, knowing look, her lips quirking up in a teasing smile. He could already hear her later - Why can't you look them in the eye, Peter? Is Storm too intimidating? Or is it the uniform? He groaned internally. Fuck my life…
Phantazia sat down across from them, her demeanor cool and composed, while Storm remained standing behind her like an imposing guardian. Phantazia placed a crisp folder on the desk between them, the Hammer Industries logo embossed in silver on the front.
"Apologies for the delay," Phantazia said, her tone brisk but not unkind. "Hammer Industries has been quite busy lately."
"Yeah, I can imagine," Peter said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "You know, what with half the world deciding they, uh, want your boss running things."
Phantazia's lips twitched slightly, almost a smile, but her gaze remained level. "It's been a productive week."
Storm leaned slightly on the back of the chair, her eyes warm as they met Peter's. "We're here to talk about you, Peter. About what comes next."
Peter blinked. "Uh, what comes next?" He repeated dumbly, Gwen giggling next to him, and as he glanced over, he could just tell she'd never let him live it down how he couldn't look Storm in the eyes without flushing.
Phantazia flipped open the folder and slid a few neatly typed documents toward him. "A new home, for starters. Hammer Industries has arranged secure housing for you. It will be equipped with advanced security systems to protect both you and anyone you care about."
Peter's eyes widened. "A new home?" He glanced at Gwen, who was already leaning over to look at the papers. "Why?"
"Because your identity is public now," Phantazia explained matter-of-factly. "The moment your face was revealed, you became a target. Hammer Industries doesn't let its assets remain vulnerable."
"Assets?" Peter echoed, a note of skepticism creeping into his voice.
Storm stepped in, her tone soothing. "Your hero work will remain independent, Peter. Think of this as support, not control."
Gwen's eyes lit up, and she leaned forward eagerly. "Support? Like what, exactly?"
Phantazia's expression didn't change as she rattled off the list. "A salary. Comprehensive medical benefits. Access to Hammer Industries' hero support teams in case of emergencies. And a direct line to our resources should you require them during your patrols."
Peter's jaw dropped slightly. "Wait - salary? Medical benefits? A panic button for hero support? Since when does any of this exist?"
Storm chuckled softly, her smile kind. "Since five days ago, it's called the Independent Hero support system. The program was created after your unmasking. Hammer Industries saw the need to formalize street-level hero support - both to protect you and to maintain the trust of the people."
Gwen practically vibrated with excitement. "Peter, this is perfect! Everything you've ever needed to be a hero, without having to worry about money or, you know, getting sued for property damage!"
Peter's face twisted into a mix of surprise and hesitation. "It... Does sound good," He admitted slowly. "But what's the catch?"
Gwen elbowed him, sending him a look.
"There's always a catch," He added under his breath.
Phantazia's gaze was steady. "The catch, as you put it, is simply that you remain affiliated with Hammer Industries. Your independence will not be infringed upon, but you will be expected to uphold the values and guidelines we set for sponsored heroes."
"Guidelines?" Peter frowned.
Storm intervened gently. "Peter, the guidelines are about accountability. Transparency with the public. Ensuring your actions don't endanger civilians unnecessarily. It's nothing you don't already strive to do."
Gwen reached over and grabbed Peter's arm. "Come on, Peter! This is everything we've ever talked about! Stability, security - this could change everything for you."
Peter hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek. It did sound like everything he needed. He'd struggled trying to balance hero work with his personal life, always worried about school, about the people he was harming by hiding his heroing, about the people who might get hurt because of his choices. But something about it still nagged at him - the idea of being tied to a corporation, no matter how benevolent it seemed on the surface.
As he mulled it over, Phantazia slid another folder across the table. "There's more. Hammer Industries has a job offer for Gwen as well."
Peter blinked. "Wait, what?"
Gwen snatched up the folder before Peter could even react, flipping through the pages with wide eyes. Her excitement was palpable as she scanned the offer.
"Biology and radiation research under Doctor Banner?" She said, her voice high-pitched with glee. "Peter, this is amazing!" She turned to him, practically bouncing in her seat. "Do you have any idea how huge this is?"
Peter raised an eyebrow. "I'm guessing you're about to tell me."
"They're offering me a full-time position with benefits, and - oh my god, look at the salary!" She slapped the folder down on the table, grabbing his arm in both hands. "Peter, this is perfect! It's everything I've ever dreamed of! I didn't even know Doctor Banner was part of Hammer Industries!"
Phantazia smiled, "We gave him an offer recently and he wisely accepted."
Peter coughed awkwardly, trying not to let her enthusiasm overwhelm him. "Yeah, it's... definitely something," He said cautiously.
Phantazia's voice cut through the moment. "The decision is yours, Peter. But with your identity public, there aren't many alternatives that offer this level of protection and support."
Gwen's grip tightened on his arm, her eyes pleading. "Peter, this is it. This is the chance to have everything you've ever wanted - to be Spider Man without losing everything else."
Peter met her gaze, his chest tightening. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe this was the solution to all his problems. But he couldn't shake the feeling that this was too good to be true - that there would be strings attached he couldn't see yet.
Still, as he looked at Gwen's hopeful expression, he realized he didn't have much of a choice. His face was out there. His enemies knew who he was. And Gwen was right - this was everything he'd ever wanted, handed to him on a silver platter.
With how his life kept crashing down, maybe that's why he was so suspicious of it. Nothing that good ever happened to him.
He sighed, a small, resigned smile tugging at his lips. "Alright," He said softly. "Where do I sign?"
Gwen squealed, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. "You're not going to regret this, Peter! I promise!"
Peter chuckled nervously, patting her back as he tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. "Yeah," He muttered. "I hope you're right."
At least if Gwen was working with someone like Doctor Banner, he might be able to get to geek out a bit.
Cairo,
The portal shimmered and closed with a faint hum as Justin and Yelena stepped onto the sprawling platform made to facilitate portal transportation in the Cairo compound. The desert sun shone harshly outside the large structure, but within, the compound buzzed with activity under the muted, climate-controlled lighting.
Justin adjusted the cuffs of his tailored jacket, glancing around with a calm but scrutinizing gaze. Workers bustled about, carrying components and welding together massive structures. At the center of the compound, engineers hovered over a translucent schematic projected in midair - a detailed blueprint of the backup arc reactor flight system Justin had commissioned. It was an enormous project, one he'd insisted on after realizing that even his floating metropolis of Cairo wasn't invincible.
The Power Stone was power incarnate, so Cairo would never run out of power and plummet to the earth.
But who knew what could happen if someone managed to rip the Power Stone out of him? So a backup was a necessity.
For hours, they toured the facility. Justin methodically checked on the reactor's progress, stopping to ask pointed questions and make adjustments to the workflow. He was impressed - the project was on schedule, maybe even ahead. The engineers assured him that in a few months, Cairo would have a fully operational backup flight system - a safety net to ensure the city never plummeted from the sky, even if its primary power source failed.
Finally, satisfied with the progress, Justin turned to Yelena. "There's one more thing to take care of."
Yelena arched an eyebrow but said nothing as he led her to the compound's underground levels. They walked in comfortable silence until they reached a set of reinforced doors. Justin placed his hand on a biometric scanner, and with a quiet hiss, the doors slid open to reveal a massive room lined with sleek metal walls. The ceiling was high, disappearing into shadows, and the space seemed to hum with potential energy.
Yelena stepped inside, her boots clicking softly against the polished floor. She looked around with an expression of curiosity and anticipation. "What is this for, pretty big for just somewhere to spar, no?"
Justin chuckled. "Ah, it's something quite special." He gestured around them. "This is a Danger Room. Courtesy of Xavier's designs. He didn't have much of a choice when I asked him for it."
At this point Charles Xavier was basically his bitch.
Her lips curled into a smirk. "You do have that effect on people."
Justin rolled up his sleeves, revealing his forearms. Hidden beneath his cuffs were ten rings, shrunken and subdued but unmistakably powerful. With a subtle motion of his hand, the rings floated into the air, gleaming faintly as they hovered before Yelena.
Her eyes widened slightly, her gaze fixed on the rings. "The Mandarin's weapon?" She asked, her head tilting in intrigue.
Justin gave a small, satisfied nod. "Not anymore." With another flick of his wrist, the rings zipped toward her, coiling around her arms and settling snugly on her forearms. The metal seemed to shift and adjust, shrinking until they fit perfectly.
Yelena gasped, her arms lighting up as the rings glowed in rhythm with her heartbeat. Energy coursed through her body, a visible aura pulsing around her like a second skin. She raised her arms, flexing her fingers as if testing the power now at her disposal.
"They're yours," Justin said simply, his voice tinged with amusement as he watched her awe-struck expression.
Yelena's lips curved into a half-grin. "Not the kind of ring I had hoped for," She teased, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "But these… These are amazing." She flexed her arms again, the rings responding to her movements with fluid grace.
Justin gestured toward the far end of the room. "Test them out. Let's see what you can do."
The Danger Room sprang to life. The walls shimmered, and a dozen robotic adversaries materialized, their sleek, metallic forms gleaming under the lights. They moved with precision, weapons emerging from hidden compartments as they circled Yelena.
She didn't hesitate. With a wild grin, she launched herself into the fray, the rings blazing as she moved.
The first robot lunged at her, swinging a serrated blade. Yelena raised her arm, and one of the rings shot forward like a projectile, slamming into the robot's chest and sending it skidding across the floor in a shower of sparks. She twisted, using the momentum to leap onto another robot, her legs wrapping around its neck as she drove a second ring into its head.
The machine crumpled beneath her as the ring fired a beam of energy, Yelena tossing herself into the air, flicking rings down beneath herself and using them as spring steps as she stepped across the air only to fall down on another robot, slamming her arms together, the rings returning to her arms, going through the robot as it fell into parts, each piece melted at the edges.
The rings seemed to anticipate her intentions. As another pair of robots advanced, she flung her arms wide, and the rings shot out in a sweeping arc, firing into both enemies with a concussive blast. The robots were thrown back, crashing into the walls with a deafening clang. Another beam followed them and disintegrated them as Yelena got the feel of the powers she could use.
"Not bad for a beginner!" Justin called from the sidelines, arms crossed as he leaned casually against the wall.
Yelena didn't respond. She was too engrossed, her movements a blend of fluid acrobatics and sheer power. She vaulted over one robot, the rings forming a protective shield around her midair before she landed behind it and delivered a devastating punch that sent it sprawling, a sonic blast emanating from the ring.
She spun, her eyes alight with exhilaration, and directed the rings to form a barrier as three robots opened fire. The bullets ricocheted harmlessly, and she used the opportunity to hurl the rings forward. They spiraled through the air like boomerangs, slicing through the robots' weapons and skulls with surgical precision before returning to her arms as she cocked them like a shotgun, smirking.
One final robot lunged at her, larger and more heavily armed than the rest. Yelena crouched, her muscles coiling like a spring, and then launched herself upward. The rings fired down, as they propelled her into the air, and as she turned in the air and came down with a thunderous impact, slamming both fists - and the glowing rings - into the machine's core, firing a fiery blast that spewed flames all around her. It shattered beneath her, fragments scattering across the floor.
Panting slightly, Yelena straightened, her face glowing with happiness. She turned to Justin, her expression a mixture of awe and delight. "These are incredible!" She exclaimed, holding out her arms to admire the rings. "It's like they're almost alive!"
Justin smiled softly, stepping forward. "They also make you immortal," He said, his voice quieter now. "You'll always be with me."
For a moment, Yelena stared at him, her eyes wide and searching. Then, with a sudden laugh, she tackled him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and bringing them both to the ground.
Justin landed with a soft oof, but he didn't resist. He even allowed himself a small chuckle, pretending not to notice the faint sniffle as Yelena buried her face against his neck. Her grip was fierce, almost crushing, but he didn't mind.
"Thank you," She murmured, her voice muffled but filled with emotion.
Justin stroked her hair lightly, his own expression softening. "You're welcome," He said simply, his voice carrying a rare note of sincerity.
For a while, neither of them moved, the hum of the Danger Room the only sound in the background.
Hammerhaven, the next day,
Justin leaned back in his chair, his eyes flicking across the glowing holographic interface projected from his desk. The blue light cast sharp angles on his face as he skimmed through the latest financial reports. Even with his empire's resources expanding exponentially, there were always curiosities - flagged expenditures that demanded attention. His gaze snagged on one such report, causing his eyebrows to lift in mild surprise.
"Nail," He called out, his voice carrying an edge of bemused curiosity. "Why did you flag yourself for spending dozens of billions of dollars? You don't usually ask permission for such simple things."
The air shimmered, and Nail's holographic form materialized in the center of the office. Her appearance - pristine and professional, with a hint of shyness in her expression - belied the massive computational power she wielded as Justin's personal AI assistant. She clasped her hands in front of her, her posture almost sheepish.
"Sir," She began hesitantly, "I noticed one of the projects you had shelved some time ago and decided to rework it. But the five billion you allocated to me for discretionary use wasn't enough as it was meant for me to use for a 'hobby business'."
Justin's other eyebrow joined the first, his surprise growing. Nail had always been meticulous with her spending, almost reluctant to dip into the funds he allotted for her. "You're saying you burned through several dozen billion dollars… On something I shelved?" His tone was more curious than accusatory, but Nail still fidgeted under his scrutiny.
"Yes," She admitted, her voice tinged with guilt. "The project had potential, and I thought it aligned with your current goals, it was only halfway through my excitement that I realized I should have asked for orders before starting to requisition supplies and manpower."
Justin leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, his fingers steepled under his chin. "What project are we talking about here?" He asked, his curiosity piqued.
He wasn't worried about it, Nail was utterly loyal and incapable of betrayal, so whatever she'd done, it was just money.
Nail's holographic form straightened, her guilt giving way to a flicker of pride as she gestured with one hand. A three-dimensional projection materialized above the desk - a massive floating city, gleaming with futuristic architecture and neon lights, looking very cyberpunk, perched in the skies over the endless waves of the Atlantic Ocean. The details were mesmerizing, from towering skyscrapers to sprawling entertainment districts illuminated by vibrant colors.
His eyes flicked through several of the notes on main attractions, Casinos, strip clubs, brothels, death races, hunting games with criminals as the bait, cage fights to the death.
She really was going fully cyberpunk den of sin, he thought with amusement, wondering how much of this was his influence on her.
"This," Nail said, gesturing to the hologram, "is a city of sin and vice - Night City. A place where everything goes and everything can be bought."
Justin's eyes widened slightly as recognition dawned on him, it had sounded familiar. "Ah, that," He murmured, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I remember shelving it because the cost was absolutely obscene. Getting something like that operational was a logistical nightmare at the time."
He'd wanted his city to be special, otherwise it would just be Madripoor.
"True," Nail acknowledged, her tone a touch more confident now. "But with the advancements you've made - especially with Cairo as a proof of concept - the project is no longer out of reach. The floating infrastructure, energy efficiency, and security measures are all within Hammer Industries' capabilities."
Justin leaned back, his lips curving into an intrigued smile. "And your reasoning for dusting this off now?"
Nail hesitated for a moment, then continued. "With the world gradually coming under your control, sir, I thought a location like this would serve multiple purposes. First, it would generate immense profit from those seeking thrills and indulgence. Second, it would act as a magnet for individuals resistant to Hammer Industries' governance - rebels, criminals, and other nonconformists. Concentrating them in one place makes them easier to monitor and contain." Or dispose of, was left unsaid.
Justin chuckled, impressed by her logic. "Not bad. Even if it was my idea to begin with, I can see the polish you've added to it, and you believe this will draw all the people refusing to live in a Hammer world?"
Which would be amusing, since everywhere was the Hammer world.
"Undoubtedly," Nail replied, her holographic expression resolute. "It would become a hub for those seeking freedom from conventional restrictions, effectively consolidating resistance in one manageable location."
Justin rubbed his chin again, considering the proposal. "It's not a bad idea," He admitted. "As a trillionaire, I can certainly afford it." He waved a hand dismissively. "Fine, you have permission to proceed. Make it a reality."
Nail's form visibly brightened, her holographic face breaking into a pleased smile. If she'd had a tail, Justin thought wryly, it would have been wagging.
"Thank you, sir," She said earnestly.
Justin's amusement deepened. "Now, about the five billion you were supposed to use on something fun…" His tone turned playful as he raised an eyebrow. "I assume you've been doing more than just preparing to build a den of sin?"
Nail's expression shifted to something bordering on mischievous as she forwarded another file to the desk interface. A new hologram flickered to life, revealing a cozy yet eccentric concept - a restaurant chain styled after Japanese cat maid cafes, complete with waitresses in feline-themed attire. However, the twist was evident in the accompanying designs - the staff weren't just costumed but bio-sculpted, sporting actual animal ears and tails.
Justin's lips twitched as he struggled to suppress a laugh. "A cat maid restaurant," He said slowly, "Modeled after maid cafes… But with genetically engineered catgirls?"
Nail nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, sir! Dr. Cho has been assisting with the bio-sculpting as a side project in the few days she's been back and she believes she can pull it off easily."
Justin leaned back, his grin widening. "Let me get this straight. I give you five billion dollars to enjoy yourself, and you decide to use it to bring anime catgirls to life?"
"Exactly, sir!" Nail replied, beaming. "I thought it would be an excellent use of the funds. The novelty alone will attract customers, and the bio-sculpting advancements could have broader applications for Hammer Industries."
Justin let out a low laugh, shaking his head. "Well, I did say you could do anything with the money. If this is your idea of fun, who am I to argue?"
And she wasn't wrong. There were enough people out there identifying as cats, or trees or even weirder. Bio sculpting would be a valuable extension of Hammer industries. Even if… This hadn't been the ideal way of introducing it.
Nail's avatar looked practically radiant with satisfaction as Justin leaned forward, still chuckling. "My AI is revolutionizing vice cities and creating catgirls. I've never been prouder."
He glanced at the hologram of the café again, his grin lingering. "Just make sure it's profitable. If I'm funding your hobbies, I expect results."
"Of course, sir," Nail said, her tone as eager as ever.
Justin leaned back once more, marveling at how his empire had evolved.
He had a feeling cat girls would actually be one of his top sellers, which just went to show how the world operated.
Sex and money.
The world operated on sex and money
Hammerhaven, USA, 1st of March, 2010.
Justin sat back in his chair in his office in Hammerhaven, his fingers casually drumming against the polished desk. Behind him, a digital map of the world shimmered, marking the territories he had brought under his influence fully by this point.
At least two thirds of the map was under his control.
It was time to deal with the mystical world.
With a flick of his wrist, a portal opened, its violet energy crackling softly in the center of the room. It shimmered, showing a view of Kamar-Taj, where he spotted Mordo, who was directing a group of students in combat drills. The ancient courtyard, framed by the mountains, would normally be hard to breach, but Power had a way of its own.
Through the portal, Mordo's sharp gaze snapped toward the disturbance. His expression hardened immediately, his voice cutting through the air. "You are not allowed, outsider! The arrogance to think you could penetrate Kamar-Taj's defences without consequence -"
Justin leaned back, a small, amused smirk playing on his lips. "Don't worry, Mordo. I'll be penetrating Kamar-Taj quite deeply today," He quipped, his tone dripping with mockery.
Domino, who was leaning against the back wall let out a giggle, already having an idea where his mind was going.
The apprentices around Mordo froze, their movements halting as their teacher's rage visibly boiled. Mordo stepped forward, summoning the energy of the mystic arts into his hands, his posture tense and ready for battle.
"You've gone too far, Hammer!" He snarled, his expression fierce."Kamar-Taj is sacrosanct, and not a party of your mundane games!"
Before Mordo could unleash a single spell, Justin casually clenched his fist. A pulse of violet energy rippled through the portal, slamming into Mordo like an invisible tidal wave. He was hurled backward with bone-jarring force, crashing into the stone walls of Kamar-Taj. The courtyard went silent as the apprentices stared in shock, their teacher now slumped against the wall, groaning weakly.
Justin's voice was cold and commanding as he spoke, addressing the remaining mystics. "Bring me the Ancient One," He ordered. "Her God requests her presence."
The stunned silence that followed was punctuated only by the faint hum of the portal. The apprentices exchanged nervous glances, torn between fear and defiance. Unsure of what to do, and the consequences of their choice.
Before they could decide, a golden portal spiraled into existence in the courtyard. From it stepped the Ancient One, her serene expression betraying neither surprise nor anger. She took in the scene - the trembling apprentices, the crumpled Mordo - with a single sweeping glance before her eyes settled on the portal leading to Justin's office.
"Mr. Hammer," She said, her tone calm and even. "You do have my e-mail if you need to reach me."
Justin's smirk widened as he leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his steepled fingers. "Good to see you can't see everything anymore," He said, his voice carrying a smug edge.
He had suspected as much, but it was good to have it confirmed. Divinity and infinity together no doubt made it much harder for her to look ahead and get answers.
Or she would have already been waiting for him.
The Ancient One raised an eyebrow, the barest hint of reproach in her expression. "And yet here you are, intruding upon Kamar-Taj rather than simply asking."
Justin's smirk faded, his eyes narrowing as his demeanor shifted to one of authority. He crooked his finger, beckoning her forward through the portal. "Come along, now," He commanded. "Don't talk back to your superiors."
Before the Ancient One could move, Stephen Strange stepped forward, his hands glowing with the beginnings of a spell. "You don't have to listen to him," He implored, his tone urgent. "We can fight him - together."
The Ancient One turned to Strange, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Her smile was soft, almost maternal, as she spoke. "Stephen," She said, her voice calm and resolute. "It's not a matter of choice. It's a matter of necessity."
As he went to speak, she interrupted him with a gentle smile, "Things are as they should be, the world will be stronger, we will be stronger. Trust me."
Strange's expression tightened, but he stepped back reluctantly. The Ancient One strode through the portal, her poise unshaken. The violet energy swirled closed behind her, leaving her alone in Justin's office.
Domino leaned casually against the wall, her sharp eyes watching the interaction with interest. Hela lounged nearby, twirling a necrosword idly in her hand, her predatory grin promising violence at the slightest provocation.
She was there simply as a threat. A show of what any kind of misbehavior might lead to.
After all, between him and Hela, he was sure which the Ancient One would rather be on the receiving end of when it came to suffering their anger…
The Ancient One inclined her head slightly toward Justin. "Congratulations on your world domination," She said, her tone light but laced with subtle irony. "It seems your efforts have borne fruit."
"Not quite yet," Justin replied, his voice cold and measured. His eyes locked onto hers with unrelenting intensity. "One piece of business still remains."
The Ancient One nodded knowingly, her expression thoughtful. "Ah. You intend to bring Kamar-Taj under your control."
Justin's lips curled into a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "You catch on quickly," He said. "You have two options. Submit to my authority and accept my orders moving forward - or be wiped out entirely. Kaecilius can rebuild a new order to protect this realm."
The Ancient One's gaze sharpened at the mention of wiping out the order. "You would risk leaving Earth vulnerable to the likes of Dormammu? To forces that even you cannot control?"
Wiping out the order would result in weaknesses, that was true. But Kaecillius could train a new cadre, and with the time stone, they didn't even need to leave Earth vulnerable for long.
In essence, Justin wouldn't let himself be held hostage by this frustrating woman.
She could play ball, or suffer the consequences.
He was the ultimate authority on Earth now. No one else.
Justin leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers once more. "I hold the Power Stone," He said, his voice brimming with confidence. "And I'll have the Time Stone, too, if it comes to that and you force me into eradicating you. Believe me, I can handle whatever comes my way."
She'd pulled strings to help him get to this point, so he wasn't overly worried she'd fight him. And as scary as the time stone was… She'd shown herself fairly unimaginative in using it.
And if nothing else, her weakness for Stephen Strange would be enough to hold her back, if they threatened his existence.
The Ancient One regarded him silently for a long moment. The weight of her decision hung heavy in the air, pressing down on everyone in the room. Finally, she spoke, her voice steady and resolute.
"There is nothing I wouldn't do to protect this planet from mystical threats," She said. Slowly, she knelt before him, her head bowed in submission. "I will not relinquish the Time Stone, but you have the services of Kamar-Taj."
Justin scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "You don't need to. I know you're too pragmatic to let something as petty as pride get in the way of survival. You'll be a good little minion, won't you?"
The Ancient One raised her head, meeting his gaze with calm determination. "I will do what is necessary," She replied, a hint of trepidation underneath the serenity.
Hela leaned forward, eyes sparking with interest as she looked between Justin and the Ancient One.
Justin's smirk returned, his satisfaction evident. "Good. Keep that attitude." He said even as he undid his belt.
"I have some issues with you to work out…"
He'd never forgive her for her hand in Hope's death.
Hammerhaven, USA.
Justin sat down at the head of a gleaming, ultra-modern conference table with holographic displays in a conference room attached to Helen's labs. They had a discussion to get through, as he'd found out the crazy woman was actually pregnant with his child.
Something he had not at all been planning on.
Something he was fairly annoyed about that no one had bothered to tell him since she'd been rescued.
He couldn't blame Helen, really. The crazy woman believed he knew simply because of his godhood. It was hard to argue against her belief in his omnipotence.
Helen Cho looked radiant, practically glowing with devotion, her hands folded demurely over her stomach as she sat opposite of him. Her serene smile only deepened Justin's unease. She gazed at him as if he were the center of the universe, which, to her, he probably was. Her brilliance and fanatic loyalty had always been useful, even comforting in its predictability. But now? Now, she was pregnant with his child.
The thought alone sent a ripple of unease through him.
He hadn't wanted to be a father at all, let alone have it be raised by someone of… Questionable sanity, as useful as she was.
"How exactly did this happen?" Justin finally asked, his voice even but edged with disbelief. "We have birth control that works against extremis. You designed it yourself, didn't you?"
Granted, he himself heard the problem there, had she done this on purpose?
Helen tilted her head slightly, as if confused by his confusion. "Yes, my god," She said sweetly, "But birth control is made for mortals. You are not mortal anymore."
Justin blinked, then leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowing. "Excuse me?" Domino's giggling in the background was not helping, as he sent her an annoyed look.
Helen's smile widened, her tone almost playful. "We tested everything extensively. It works perfectly for any enhanced individual, even those on extremis or more advanced biological modifications. But for you…" Her hand moved gently to rest on her stomach. "It does not work against a god."
Justin paled slightly. His fingers tapped against the table in a rapid rhythm as his thoughts raced. "Of course, why the hell didn't I think of -" He cut himself off, sighing. There was no point in quibbling about the details. His abilities had surpassed anything mortal, his influence stretched across the globe, and apparently, his DNA had decided it wasn't bound by human limitations either - which made sense, he wasn't strictly human anymore.
He just hadn't thought of the consequences of that.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay, fine. But if that's the case... Does this apply to everyone?" His voice was sharper now, tinged with dread.
Helen beamed at him, her devotion palpable. "Yes, my god. From my tests, even a barren mortal woman would conceive your child. Your divine essence ensures it." Her voice was brimming with pride, as though this revelation was a testament to his greatness.
Like him spreading babies everywhere was fantastic.
Justin froze, his mind grinding to a halt for a moment. He replayed her words and then forced himself to ask, "Even barren women?" He croaked out, Domino outright laughing at him now, having fallen back against the wall, tears running down her face.
Helen nodded eagerly, her hand never leaving her stomach. "Yes, even a woman deemed infertile would be blessed with your child. It's... Miraculous."
Miraculous. Justin wasn't so sure about that. He rubbed his temples, muttering to himself. "Of all the perks of divinity, this is the one no one warns you about."
After a long pause, he asked warily, "What about Hela?"
If he'd knocked up Hela, he was inviting troubles far beyond what he was willing to deal with. His libido had never been an issue to him, but if he had to parent a child with Hela, it really, really was an issue.
Helen looked thoughtful for a moment before replying brightly, "Oh, I've run plenty of tests on her samples. Based on what I've seen, she can't conceive unless she wills it. So, no worries there, unless she willed it so, of course."
He should be safe there thankfully, and maybe he should have a conversation with her? If she could turn her fertility on or off, maybe he could as well…
Justin blinked a moment later, mind catching on to something Helen had said. "Hold up. Since when do we have samples of Hela?" He sounded more exasperated than anything else, but a flicker of curiosity crept into his tone.
It felt like something he should have been aware of…
One of the downsides of his company becoming so big, even with an AI, he himself could only check on, and take in so much information in a day.
Helen clasped her hands together, looking genuinely delighted. "Oh, she's been a wonderful subject! She willingly spends hours in my lab, letting me study her physiology. She's so excited about the needles and scalpels! I've never had such a cooperative participant."
Justin groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "That... Actually tracks. Of course, she would enjoy that nowadays." He sighed heavily, his mind already darting to his next concern.
He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. Mentally, he began sifting through the rather extensive list of women he'd been with since ascending to his godlike state. The list was... Substantial.
One of the reasons Domino was still laughing, because she wasn't on it, and she'd been around for most of it, so she knew how many women he'd slept with.
"How many?" He muttered to himself aloud, not really expecting an answer.
"Excuse me, my god?" Helen asked politely.
Justin waved a hand. "Nothing. I was just thinking about... The potential fallout." He sat up straighter, his gaze narrowing on Helen. "You're sure about this? Every single woman?"
Helen nodded with a bright dopey smile as she stared at him devotedly. "Yes, my god. Your divinity transcends mortal limitations. Any woman you've been with would almost certainly be carrying your child by now."
Justin let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of the revelation settle on his shoulders. "Fantastic," He muttered sarcastically. "So, what you're saying is, my sex drive just created an entirely new generation of little me's."
Helen smiled serenely. "A blessing upon the world, my god, a generation of demigods."
"Ohmygod, I'm going to die, this is the best thing that's ever happened, ever!" Domino managed to get out, holding her sides as she snorted in laughter.
Justin shot her a flat look. "You're fired."
Domino giggled, sending him an impish look, "I don't think you can afford to lose a bodyguard now that you'll need at least a dozen ~baby security details~."
He rubbed his temples again, trying to process the implications. Some women wouldn't care. Yelena, for instance, would probably take it in stride, perhaps even as excited about it as Helen. Though, she'd likely be annoyed at how many widows would need to be pulled from active duty in a few months. Still, she was practical; she'd adapt.
But then there was Storm. Ororo Munroe wasn't the type to take something like this lightly. Sure, she had wanted to get closer to him, advocating for metahumans and trying to establish stronger ties with Hammer Industries. Well, congratulations, Justin thought grimly. Mission accomplished.
"This is going to be a nightmare," He muttered under his breath.
Author's Note:
So congratulations Justin, you're a dad to be!
Everything isn't over completely with everyone backing down obviously, but he has enough support that there really aren't many countries that can afford to fight back.
Yelena was the obvious pick for the Ten Rings, although Domino wouldn't have been a horrible choice either. But her luck is already OP enough.
All hail President Sunil, who's reward for all his hard work - is more hard work.
The Ancient One made her boat, it's too late to turn back now. She could have escaped if she wanted to, Justin knew it. She knew it.
Cheers
JollyHippopotamus
Funniest scene of this entire chapter xD
Hammer is really a God yo. Not even a year into godhood and he has dozens of demigod children lol. He'll create his pantheon from his children and grand children like ghe Greeks of old 😂
SI Justin Hammer: "For the last time, I am not the Messiah!"
Everyone: "He is the Messiah!"
Sunil: "He is not the Messiah! He's a very naughty boy!"
Sunil would more be - he is the Messiah - but I'm the one doing all the fucking work for it...
- Location
- The Internet?
Needs an apostrophe.
Hey! Democracy failed to provide meaningful regulations and taxation for you! That's something!
Actually, they changed the title, it's now 'Captain America: Brave New World.'
Since the two adjectives can more or less be swapped, there ought to be a comma between the two. So... 'massive, natural seeming heart attack' ought to be the way to go.
"The time has come. Execute sixty, older dicks."
No, that's DC. This is more like The Seven: Dawn of Justice.
It ought to be capitalized, but I'm glad Justin finally got to sit in the big chair, even if it was just temporary.
Because here on Earth, we're like family.
"You don't even have to change the Pledge. You'll still be one nation, under God. That guy's just going to be me."
"Once again, (e)X-COM(mies) tries to cling to the ways of the Old World..."
I know it's people like Shaw and the like, but... ew.
Justin, no, he's British. It's close, but you need to be South African for it to work.
I dunno if you need this comma here.
This part slips out of the third person narrative. With the internal groan earlier, it seemed like we'd slipped back from the 'hypothetical teasing from Gwen.' Should it be in italics, have some sort of thought-quotes, or something?
"It appears to run on some form of electricity." At least there won't be some sort of Sokovia situation going on here.
I forget whether or not Chuck got the Mutant!Extremis yet. Part of me hopes not, if only so this part would be less painful for him.
The fabled lost city of Atlanta! At least they're not calling it Rapture.
Aw, Nail gets to be the Architect! I wonder who her first Neo is going to be.
Domino: Are we sure letting the AI watch the Matrix movies was the best idea?
Yelena: Well, the Skrulls let theirs watch Terminator.
Domino: Point.
Oh God, in this universe the bit about litter boxes in schools is actually going to be real, instead of some insane culture war nonsense, isn't it?
You've got 'catgirls' as one word in all the other instances, so should it be the same here? Additionally, you're missing a final punctuation before the line break.
Aw, Strange is trying to be the Chosen One. Go for it buddy, it worked so well for Anakin!
Okay, but this part is actually pretty gross.
Hela's pregnant? At least Helen will be a good OBGYN! Oh, wait, he's talking about Helen's baby, got it. Wasn't sure which crazy woman it was.
Extremis ought to be capitalized in both of these instances, just FYI, since it is earlier in the scenes with Shaw.
Nothin' immaculate about any of those conceptions. At least Nat did that nasty in the pasty before Justin became a god.
The Ancient One's going to be eating for Two? I'm sure that won't have any complications down the line.
Sunil, no! Justin's into that kind of thing!
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- Location
- Germany
talk with Tony about it?
It would leave his expression in a truly amazing state.
Chapter 46: Family Times.
Here's chapter 46: Family Times.
As brought to you by Patron overlords.
Next week won't be any Hammer as Patron has voted for letting other stories take primary position for one week a month.
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc.
Hope you enjoy.
Hammerhaven, March 5th, 2010.
The sprawling penthouse Justin was staying in while staying close to the heartbeat of his city, had been specifically adjusted to keep the outside world away tonight. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city's nighttime skyline, the faint hum of life below muffled by the penthouse's soundproofing. Tonight, the usual hum of business, strategy, and ambition was replaced with something far simpler - an evening of relaxation among the closest members of Justin's inner circle.
The kitchen at the center of the open floor plan was a curious blend of high-tech and homey, and barely ever used. Justin hardly had any need to do something so pedestrian as cooking.
Yelena and Eileen moved with surprising ease and familiarity around the kitchen, neither woman was someone that you'd expect to see play homemaker.
Eileen, dressed more comfortably then she usually did as Phantazia, in simple slacks, a off-white blouse and an apron that said - kiss the cook and die - leaned over the stove, stirring a sauce that filled the air with a rich, savory aroma. Beside her, Yelena was chopping vegetables with a precision that spoke to both her assassin training and her determination to prove herself as the chef of the evening.
She took everything she did seriously, and even the slicing of vegetables was a task she was utterly focused on, her hair hanging loose, framing her face as she had dressed down for the occasion in a simple shorts and t-shirt combo.
The fact it was a New York Hammers shirt wasn't commented on by anyone.
A shared shame they all had for failing to keep their boss from buying and renaming a sports franchise a few months back.
"I swear, Yelena, you're about to slice your finger off with how fast you're going," Domino called from her spot on the plush couch, a glass of red wine balanced precariously on her knee. She lounged with the casual ease of someone who knew she was among family and had absolutely no worries.
Yelena didn't look up, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. "If I lose a finger and it somehow doesn't just grow back, I'll just use it to guilt-trip Justin into cooking for us next time, since he's the one who wanted a home cooked meal." The ten rings rested tightly against her forearms as she continued chopping away.
Justin, sitting in an armchair across from Domino with his own glass of wine, snorted softly. "Don't count on it. My skills are best used elsewhere."
Domino smirked, swirling her glass. "Oh, we know. But I'm pretty sure your 'skills' are non-existent, and you hate being bad at something, and that's why you'd really refuse. Eileen, sweetie, back me up here."
Eileen glanced over her shoulder, her expression one of practiced calm, though the faintest hint of amusement danced in her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous darling, Justin isn't bad at anything, I'm pretty sure that's heretic to say actually, I'll miss you when you're burnt at the stake, Dom."
Domino only gave her the finger, before spilling all her wine on herself as she apparently had a 'random' muscle twitch.
"Hey," Justin protested, though his tone was more amused than offended at Eileen's teasing. "No using the church of Hammer against me, I don't control those nutjobs." He gave them all a faux stern glare, "Also, no work talk tonight…"
Domino casually took her pajamas off and sat in the nude, giving Eileen a challenging look, and Justin rubbed his forehead, "And none of that… Domino put some clothes on."
"No work tonight, yeah? We're all completely off the clock?" Domino asked sweetly, pouring herself another glass.
"Yeeees?" Justin drawled out slowly.
Domino shrugged, her breasts bouncing slightly, "Then I don't have to do as you say, cheers!" She lifted her wine glass mockingly.
Eileen let out a very loud sigh, but there was a smile on her face to go with her slightly pink cheeks as she checked on the meat, basting it with butter and herbs.
Yelena paused in her chopping to look over her shoulder, an eyebrow raised in mock disbelief. "You expected differently from Dom? How many glasses have you had, Justin?"
Domino burst out laughing, nearly spilling her wine, again. "She's got you there, not-my-boss-tonight."
Justin leaned back in his chair, taking a leisurely sip of his drink. "I'm glad I brought you all here tonight. Really warms my heart to see how much you all value me."
"Don't worry, Justin," Eileen said smoothly, turning back to her sauces to give them another stir. "We value you. The amount of teasing depends on what you're offering, mister Trillionaire." She added impishly, sharing an amused look with Domino.
The room filled with lighthearted laughter, the kind that came easily among people who had been through more than their fair share of chaos together. Yelena finished chopping and carried her cutting board over to Eileen, dumping the vegetables into a sizzling pan. The two worked in comfortable silence for a moment before Yelena broke it.
"You know," She began, her tone deliberately casual, "This isn't so bad. Cooking together. Feels… Normal. Maybe we can make it a regular thing?"
Domino leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she grinned, uncaring about her nudeness. "Look at you, getting all sentimental on us. Careful, 'lena. You might actually seduce me, and then where will we be?"
Yelena shot her a mock glare. "I tolerate you. Barely."
"Dom, don't make me spank you…" Eileen warned, her lips quirked in a half smile. Like she couldn't make up her mind on whether to smile, or frown.
"That's the spirit," Domino said, raising her glass in a mock toast.
Justin chuckled, watching the exchange with quiet amusement. It wasn't often they all had the chance to unwind like this. The pressures of world domination, alien invasions, a global business empire, and the endless logistics therein, didn't leave much room for evenings like this. But tonight, it was just them. No plans, no power plays, just a group of people who had found themselves at the center of the most powerful empire on the planet.
Once the holdovers stopped being whiny bitches, it would be the Empire.
Yelena and Eileen worked together like a well-oiled machine as the cooking began entering the home stretch, the sounds of chopping, sizzling, and stirring filling the kitchen. The smell of garlic, herbs, and roasted vegetables wafted through the air, mingling with the faint scent of rosy wine everyone was drinking.
Domino tilted her head, watching them with a curious lazy expression. "You know, this feels like one of those sitcom families. The overachieving older sister," She gestured at Eileen, "The bratty but lovable younger sister," she nodded toward Yelena, "And the long-suffering dad." Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she looked at Justin.
Eileen chuckled lightly, "That would be highly incestuous since I'm the only one here he hasn't slept with." She pointed out.
If Justin wasn't currently dealing with way too many pregnancies, he might have used that to segue into completing the set.
"Yet." Domino pointed out teasingly.
Eileen pointed a spatula at her threateningly, "No chance, I'm a one woman kind of gal at the moment as you well know."
Domino made a heart with her fingers, making Eileen laugh, before she shook her head and returned to what she was doing.
Justin raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching in amusement, Domino and Eileen were hardly being subtle. "And you're… What? The quirky aunt of questionable sexuality who drinks too much?" He asked Domino, bringing it back to what she'd said.
Domino grinned. "Exactly."
Yelena snorted, setting down the pan she'd been holding. "You're not quirky. You're just annoying."
"And you're not even part of the original group," Domino shot back, her tone teasing. "So maybe pipe down, new girl."
Yelena's jaw dropped, and she spun around to face Domino, her hands on her hips. "Not part of the original group? Excuse me? I've been here long enough to earn my spot."
Thankfully for Yelena's self respect none of them made the obvious joke.
"Long enough, sure," Domino said, leaning back against the couch with a smug grin. "But OG? Nah. That's me, Justin, and Eileen. You're just the plucky newcomer."
Yelena pouted, crossing her arms. "I'm not plucky."
"See? Only someone plucky would say that," Domino said, winking.
Eileen's lips twitched as she tried to suppress a smile. "Be careful, Dom. If you push her too far, you might find yourself at the wrong end of one of those knives."
"Please," Yelena said, rolling her eyes. "I'd never waste a perfectly good knife on her."
Mostly because if someone really tried to stab Domino they'd probably just end up stabbing themselves.
The banter continued as they finished cooking, Yelena and Eileen grabbing the food while Justin and Domino set the table. The dining area, with its panoramic view of the city, was the perfect backdrop for their meal. They sat down together, the table filled with steaming dishes that looked as good as they smelled.
"Alright," Justin said, raising his glass. "A toast. To… Whatever this is. A day of relaxation…"
"To family," Domino said, her voice uncharacteristically sincere.
"To all of us being the original group," Yelena added, giving Domino a challenging look.
Eileen inclined her head. "To reaching all the way to dinner with only one person losing their clothes." She toasted dryly.
They clinked their glasses together, the sound ringing softly in the warm, relaxed atmosphere. For a moment, everything felt perfect - no enemies, no wars, no schemes. Just them.
As they began to eat, the conversation flowed easily, moving from lighthearted teasing to more personal topics. Justin found himself smiling more than he had in weeks, genuinely enjoying the company of the people who had become his closest allies - and, in many ways, his family.
As much as he'd never really intended to find one quite like it.
The meal was nearly finished, and the wine was flowing freely when Domino leaned back in her chair, her grin turning wicked. She swirled her glass lazily, her eyes flicking between Justin and Yelena.
"So," She began, her tone deliberately casual, "Justin, did you tell Yelena you knocked her up yet?"
The room went still. Yelena, mid-sip of her wine, choked violently, nearly spitting it out as her eyes widened in shock. "What!?"
Justin groaned, dragging a hand down his face as Domino burst into laughter. "Really, Domino? You couldn't wait until after dessert?"
Yelena's wide eyes darted from Justin to Domino and back again, her hands trembling slightly as she set her wine glass down on the table with a soft clink. The atmosphere in the room shifted palpably, the warmth of their earlier banter replaced by a heavy, almost tangible tension. Her breath caught, the air in her lungs refusing to move as the words hung over her like a storm cloud.
"What did she just say?" She asked, her voice trembling between disbelief and cautious hope. Her gaze was locked on Justin now, searching his face for any sign that Domino's words were some cruel joke.
Domino, entirely unrepentant, leaned back in her chair with a smug grin, dodging a swipe from Eileen. She swirled her wine lazily, the picture of casual mischief. "Honestly, you should be thanking me for breaking the news in the most entertaining way possible."
Yelena ignored her, her attention solely on Justin. "Is this true?" She demanded, her voice sharp and rising in pitch. Her eyes shimmered faintly under the warm light, betraying the storm of emotions building inside her. "Am I -" She hesitated, swallowing hard before continuing, " - am I pregnant?"
Justin sighed, setting his glass down on the table. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the surface as he met her gaze. His expression was carefully measured, the usual cocky smirk replaced by something softer. "Yeah," He admitted finally, his tone calm but carrying an undertone of sympathy. "You are."
Yelena blinked, her lips parting slightly in shock. For a moment, it seemed like she might say something, but the words didn't come. Her hand moved instinctively to her stomach, her fingers brushing over it as if expecting to feel some sign of change beneath her skin. "I… I don't know what to say," She murmured, her voice almost inaudible. Her breath hitched, and she let out a shaky laugh. "Justin, I'm not even sure I know how to be a mom."
Domino let out an exaggerated sigh, propping her chin on her hand. "Oh, please, 'lena. If you can handle assassins, espionage, and whatever other insanity Justin throws your way, you can handle one tiny baby."
Eileen, chimed in smoothly, her tone calm but laced with a faint edge. "Domino's right, although as subtle as a particularly dim brick as usual. You already have the skill set. Quick reflexes, sharp instincts, time spent taking care of a giant baby who can't take no for an answer - sounds like you're more than qualified."
Yelena shot them both a glare, though her expression lacked any venom. "You two are so helpful," She muttered, though the corners of her lips twitched despite herself.
"Just doing our part," Domino said brightly, wincing as Eileen's nails dug into her thigh.
Justin cleared his throat, drawing Yelena's focus back to him. His expression was serious now, his voice steady as he addressed her. "Look, Yelena, I'm going to be straight with you. I'm not exactly father-of-the-year material. Hell, I didn't even think I'd ever be in this position. But you're mine." He leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that left no room for doubt. "And I take care of what's mine. Always. You're not going to be sidelined or abandoned because of this... Divine parasite."
Yelena let out a startled laugh, half disbelief and half amusement. "Divine parasite?" She repeated, raising an eyebrow. "How romantic."
Justin smirked faintly, though his voice softened as he continued. "You know what I mean. I'm not going to let you do this alone, and I'm sure as hell not going to let anything happen to you or sideline you."
He stood by what he said though. He'd ensure they had everything they could ever need, but he had neither the time nor the wish to play house.
Yelena's eyes flicked back to her stomach, her hand unconsciously settling there again. For a moment, her walls cracked, and the vulnerability she so carefully hid slipped through. "I don't even know where to start," She admitted quietly. "I've never... I mean, what if I mess this up?"
Justin kept quiet, knowing not to be hIs usual domineering self, Yelena had just found out about her mom, and now this…
It probably wouldn't help to mention how many kids he had on the way so it wouldn't matter if a couple were raised to be fuck ups.
Eileen reached over, placing a reassuring hand on Yelena's arm. "You won't," She said simply, her voice steady. "You're tougher than you think. And you've got us."
Domino grinned, leaning forward to clink her glass against Yelena's untouched one. "Yeah, we'll make sure you don't screw it up too badly. Besides, I'm pretty sure this kid's going to inherit some serious badass genes."
Yelena groaned, covering her face with her hands. "You're not going to let me live this episode of panic down, are you?"
"Not a chance," Domino replied cheerfully, taking another sip of her wine. "It's because we love you."
Justin leaned back in his chair, watching the dynamic between the women shift and flow with a faint smile. Despite the unexpected turn of events, there was something comforting about the way they rallied around Yelena.
"Domino's right," Justin said, earning a startled look from the woman in question. "Not about the teasing part - though I'm sure she'll milk that for all it's worth. But about you not doing this alone. You've got us. And if nothing else, you've got me."
Yelena lowered her hands, her expression softening. "You mean that?"
Justin nodded. "I do. You're part of this family, Yelena. Things might get messy, but we'll figure it out."
Eileen raised her glass, her calm demeanor giving way to a rare honest smile. "To divine parasites and unexpected blessings."
Domino laughed, holding up her glass as well. "Hear, hear! And to Yelena, the soon-to-be badass mom of the year."
Yelena rolled her eyes, though a faint blush crept across her cheeks. "You're all insufferable."
"Maybe," Domino said, grinning, "but you love us anyway."
It was an idyllic scene,
At least until Domino told Yelena about the many, many others.
Hammerhaven, March 8th, 2010.
Justin sat at his desk in his personal office,
Phantazia sat in front of him to his right, her tablet glowing softly as she scrolled through reports, her demeanor calm and poised. In front of him on his left, Newly inaugurated President Sunil leaned forward slightly, an amused glint in his eyes as he prepared to present the results of a poll that apparently had Hammer Industries in a titter.
Justin leaned back in his chair, swirling a glass of water idly in one hand. "Alright, Sunil, hit me with it. What's the biggest breakthrough of Hammer Industries, according to our adoring public?"
Sunil tapped a control on the table, and a hologram of a bar graph sprang to life above the polished surface. The top result glowed in bold letters - Grocery Delivery.
The business he'd created his version of Uber for, just as much as for the rideshare market.
Justin's eyebrows shot up, his expression a mix of disbelief and skepticism. "You're telling me grocery delivery is the biggest improvement voted on by a global audience? Ahead of clean energy, all the tech advancements, and - oh, I don't know - Panacea, the cure for every disease known to man?"
Phantazia smirked but kept her gaze on her tablet, clearly entertained by his reaction. Sunil, ever unflappable, gave a slight shrug. "Yes, sir. Over forty million votes were cast. Grocery delivery won by a considerable margin."
Justin scoffed, leaning forward and pointing at the hologram. "This doesn't make sense. We only have the service running at full capacity in North America and a handful of European countries at this point. How does it win a global vote? Do people even know what Panacea does?"
"They do," Phantazia said, finally looking up from her tablet. Her expression tinged with amusement. "But apparently, the idea of shopping from their couch is more exciting than eradicating disease."
"People who don't even have access to it yet are still thrilled by the possibility," Sunil added calmly, as if that explained everything.
Justin groaned, rubbing his temples. "So, let me get this straight. People are so excited about never having to set foot in an actual store again that they're willing to push aside the idea of curing all diseases as the top advancement of the last decade? This is what we're dealing with?"
"Yes," Phantazia confirmed, her lips quirking into a faint smile.
"No wonder there's hardly a single rebellion to this world domination thing," Justin muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "The bar is so low, it's practically subterranean."
Not to say there weren't rebellions,
China and Russia were still fighting back. Badly. And the whole of the Middle East was iffy at best, not a lot of Hammer worshippers there for some reason.
Sunil cleared his throat, redirecting the conversation. "Be that as it may, this data provides us with valuable insight into public priorities. We should leverage this enthusiasm as we roll out additional services worldwide."
Justin threw his hands up. "Fine, but let's focus on the big stuff at the same time. Grocery delivery can roll out on the side while we ensure people have power, clean water, and infrastructure that won't collapse under its own weight. What's our timeline on arc reactors for global clean energy?"
The world was his, he would reshape everything with a global infrastructure program. But he needed the energy for it first.
Phantazia adjusted her tablet, bringing up a hologram of the Earth with glowing dots marking current and planned arc reactor installations. The map spun slowly, revealing clusters of activity in major cities across North America, Europe, and Asia. "We're currently operational in thirty-two locations worldwide," she began, her tone professional. "That already accounts for approximately 11% of the global population's energy needs. Our next phase involves expanding to underserved regions in Africa, South America, and Southeast Asia."
The Middle East was going to be a problem soon, Justin thought, seeing that they weren't even on the plan for this. The situation was too volatile.
Funnily enough they weren't overly concerned with Panacea or clean energy, despite being oil nations. In this case, the church of Hammer and its insistence about his divinity was the major issue.
At least the Vatican wasn't being bitches about it.
Sunil leaned forward, gesturing to the map. "The logistics are complex, but we've streamlined the process by standardizing the construction of smaller arc reactors. These will serve rural and remote areas over great distances, while the larger ones handle urban centers and their surroundings."
Justin nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Good. I want full coverage - no exceptions. What's the estimated timeline for completing the global rollout?"
The smaller reactors would have to be expanded or replaced as the world grew - but for now speed was more important.
Phantazia tapped her tablet, and new data appeared. "At our current pace, we can achieve 70% coverage within five years and 100% within seven. That assumes no significant delays."
Justin frowned. "Seven years feels too long. What's holding us back?"
"Resource allocation and skilled labor," Sunil explained. "Even with Hammer Industries' resources, constructing and maintaining these facilities requires trained personnel. We're already operating at maximum capacity in terms of recruitment and training."
Justin drummed his fingers on the table, his mind racing. "Double the training programs. Pull people from other industries if you have to. I don't care if we have to train bricklayers to build these reactors - we need them operational faster. Use the prison reeducation programs too."
Phantazia arched an eyebrow but nodded. "Understood. I'll work with Nail to adjust the training schedules and optimize deployment."
Justin leaned back, his eyes on the spinning globe. "Good. Clean energy for everyone. No excuses, no delays."
His other projects needed the energy to work, so it was vital they put the arc reactor installations going at highest possible speed.
"Alright, what about clean water?" Justin asked, shifting his focus. "We're not letting anyone go thirsty on my watch, they won't be as productive if they're worrying about water."
Phantazia brought up another hologram, this one displaying water purification facilities and desalination plants. "We've made significant progress in areas with existing infrastructure," She said. "Arc reactor plants double as water purification hubs in several regions, but rural areas remain a challenge."
Sunil nodded in agreement. "The issue is less about purification and more about distribution. In remote areas, there's often no existing pipeline or delivery system to work with."
Justin's brow furrowed. "So build one."
"It's not that simple," Phantazia interjected. "We're talking about thousands of miles of pipelines, reservoirs, and pumping stations. It's a massive undertaking."
It was already underway in Africa, but it would be years to be finished, and despite popular opinion, Africa was far from the only place dealing with poor access to clean water.
Justin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "What's the timeline?"
"Ten years for full global coverage," Phantazia replied. "Assuming no interruptions."
"Unacceptable," Justin snapped. "We're not making people wait a decade for clean water. What's the bottleneck?"
"Materials and labor, mostly, as always," Sunil said. "But we've already begun exploring alternatives, such as modular purification units that can be deployed in remote areas without relying on piping."
Justin's eyes lit up. "That's more like it. Scale that up. Use the resources we have, put Forge and Doctor Octavius on cooking up something that will expedite the process. I'm not going to be held back by something like access to water!"
Phantazia made a note on her tablet. "We'll prioritize modular units and repurposed infrastructure. With those adjustments, we could cut the timeline to five years, more if Forge and Doctor Octavius bring me something revolutionary."
"Better," Justin said, his tone firm. "Make it happen."
Moving on, Sunil pulled up a new set of holograms, this one showing roads, bridges, and other critical infrastructure projects as well as the planned retooling of major cities. "With the Hammer Federation in place, we're focusing, as planned, on rebuilding and modernizing infrastructure across the globe. This includes high-speed global rail networks, and smart cities."
Justin studied the projections, his mind already running through the logistics. "How long until we've got a global high-speed rail network?"
"Seven years for primary routes," Sunil replied. "Secondary and tertiary lines will take another three to five years."
Justin grimaced. "I want those numbers cut in half. Can we use drones or automated systems to speed up construction?"
With how much he needed human hands in the more sensitive projects, he couldn't afford to divert even more people. His construction company had already ballooned into one of the largest employers globally - there weren't enough humans to cover everything he wanted to get done.
Not on the timeline he was shooting for.
"We can," Phantazia said, a warning note in her tone, "But there's a limit to how much automation can replace human oversight. Quality control is critical for projects of this scale."
Justin nodded reluctantly. "Fine. Double the workforce if you have to and match that with automation. Source people from the poorest countries, hoover them up, force them if necessary, recruit globally - whatever it takes."
Phantazia made another note. "Understood. We'll adjust the projections accordingly."
Finally, Justin turned his attention to the hologram of the moon, where Hammer Industries' new bases glowed faintly. "Let's talk about the space fleet," He said, leaning forward. "Now that we've got access to global resources and fully operational moon bases, I want timelines for building the fleet."
Phantazia swiped her tablet, bringing up a detailed schematic of proposed spacecraft designs. "The good news is that the moon bases provide a steady supply of research materials. The bad news is that building and launching a fleet of this size requires massive coordination between Earth and lunar operations."
Sunil added, "We've already begun assembling the first prototypes for testing on Earth, but lack the space dock capabilities to truly build a functional fleet. At the current pace, we'll have a test fleet of five scout ships within five years." He pursed his lips, "The wait for Asgard to contribute is slowing down construction as we need an interstellar ship to examine.."
Justin raised an eyebrow. "Just five?" He scratched his chin, "Asgard is not under our control, but we can speed up the work on a space dock… I'll deal with Pym Industries."
With Pym Particles not held back, they could get a working space dock around Earth's orbit in no time. Which would speed up the timeline of the fleet build. And push them past scout ships to battle cruisers.
"Each ship represents a massive investment in time and resources," Sunil cautioned. "If you wish to speed up the production of the space dock, it might be wise to halt ship production."
Justin considered this, his mind racing. "Double the production rate of dock components, I'll get the particles flowing, resources doesn't matter, continue the ship builds, our people need something to train on."
Phantazia hesitated. "There's also the matter of training the crew. These ships will require highly specialized personnel, even if you intend to utilize Sentinels to start with."
"Start recruiting immediately from NATO Navies and Air Forces," Justin ordered. "And if there's a shortage of qualified candidates, grab jarheads too and train them via the education pods. We're not putting this off."
With Shaw Industries now under his control, he had the steel to push forward, the Arc Reactors were already in place to help transform it into a more durable energy ablative material. If they could crack the Pym particles - production rates would blow their timeline out of the water.
Nothing like having someone work on a miniature piece of treated steel and then making that small piece a hundred times its size after finishing with the fiddly bits to speed up a build.
Starfighters created entirely in miniature with almost no resources by robotic precision and then resized to a full blown ship…
Pym Particles were going to put Earth on the map.
The next day, Hammerhaven.
The air in the lower levels of Hammerhaven felt cold and sterile, humming faintly with the energy of security fields and reinforced steel. It wasn't a place Justin visited often, preferring the luxury and efficiency of his upper offices. But today, he had a purpose. His polished leather shoes echoed down the corridor as he made his way toward one of the more secure cells.
He stepped through the reinforced doorway into a chamber that seemed equal parts interrogation room and high-tech kennel. Inside, Hela was perched casually on a steel bench, her long legs crossed and her face lit with an expression of absolute glee. In her hand, she held the end of a leash - a glowing teched out chain that connected to a collar fitted tightly around Nebula's neck. The blue-skinned cyborg glared at her captor, her body stiff with barely contained rage. A muzzle clamped over her mouth ensured her silence, though her eyes burned with defiance.
"Hela," Justin said smoothly as he stepped inside, his tone calm but laced with authority as he knew she wouldn't respond to anything else. "I see you're keeping busy with your cute little pet."
Which was all for the better. It's why he'd given her over.
Hela looked up, her grin widening into something wolfish. She gave the leash a playful tug, forcing Nebula to stumble forward slightly on her knees. "Busy? Oh, Justin, you have no idea how much fun I'm having. Isn't that right, my little pet?" Her voice dipped into a saccharine, baby-talk tone as she leaned toward Nebula, her eyes sparkling with mock affection. "Yes, you're such a good little pet, aren't you? Soon, we'll make you the terror of the stars again. But this time, you'll do it my way."
Nebula growled low in her throat, the sound muffled by the muzzle. Her mechanical hands clenched into fists, the servos whining under the strain. Hela laughed, delighted by the resistance. She tugged the leash again, a spark of electricity electrocuting Nebula painfully, Hela tilting her head like she was speaking to a particularly stubborn puppy. "Oh, don't be like that, pet. You'll get used to it. Who knows, you might even enjoy it!"
Justin watched the interaction with a mix of amusement and exasperation. Hela's antics could be entertaining, sure, but there was a reason he was here. He cleared his throat, drawing her attention.
"We need to talk," He said, gesturing toward the bench. "Mind if I join you?"
Hela raised an eyebrow but scooted over, patting the seat beside her with exaggerated politeness. "Of course, my dear Emperor-to-be. Sit. Let us discuss your grand plans while I keep my little pet occupied." She casually stretched a foot out for Nebula to nuzzle.
Justin took the offered seat, his gaze briefly flicking to Nebula, who was still kneeling on the floor, her glare unwavering even as she reluctantly leaned forward to brush her face against Hela's foot. He leaned back, folding his hands in his lap. "I wanted to go over the details of what's next for you."
"Oh?" Hela's grin sharpened. "Do tell. I've been dying to hear how you plan to use my particular talents."
Justin smirked faintly. "Asgard's promised us a spaceship - a big one, loaded with technology our scientists are already drooling over. Once we've extracted every scrap of knowledge from it, I'm planning to put it to good use."
Hela's eyes gleamed, her interest piqued. "And what, pray tell, is 'good use'?"
Justin's tone was casual, almost nonchalant, as he explained. "I want you to take that ship and make a name for yourself out there. Cause chaos. Be the universe's problem for a while." And not his…
Hela's grin spread into something feral, her fingers tightening on Nebula's leash. "You want me to be a ~pirate."
Justin shrugged. "Call it what you want. Pirate, conqueror, interstellar pain in the ass - I don't care. The point is, I need you out there, stirring things up, making people too busy dealing with you to look too closely at Earth."
Hela's laugh was low and throaty, filled with genuine delight. "Oh, Justin, you spoil me. Chaos is what I do best." She turned her attention back to Nebula, her grin softening into that same mock affection. "Hear that, pet? We're going to be pirates. You'll be the most fearsome little mascot in the galaxy - just think of all the new places you can pee on to mark your territory."
Nebula snarled, straining against the leash, but the collar's failsafe mechanisms activated, sending another sharp jolt of energy through her body. She froze, her muscles locking up momentarily before she slumped back onto her knees, breathing heavily.
"Play nice, Nebula," Justin said mildly, his gaze never leaving Hela. "She's not going to bite you. Probably."
He knew she'd do much worse. But if it kept Hela busy, he didn't overly care much. It was a daughter of Thanos - she was expendable to him once she was fully pumped of information.
Hela chuckled, clearly enjoying every second of Nebula's discomfort. "She'll learn," She said breezily. "It's only a matter of time before she realizes how much fun this will be. Isn't that right, my little darling?" She reached out, patting Nebula's head like a dog.
Justin's lips twitched in amusement, though his mind remained focused on the larger picture. Hela was a force of nature, raw and untamed. She thrived on conflict and conquest, and keeping her cooped up on Earth was a recipe for disaster. Right now, his priority was building the world up, stabilizing it under his rule. He didn't have room for someone like Hela to run wild in his backyard.
Sending her into the stars wasn't just a strategic move - it was a necessity. If she didn't have an outlet for her destructive tendencies, she'd find one. And that wasn't a risk Justin was willing to take.
The fact she'd also draw attention to herself was just a bonus, hopefully the likes of the Kree etc, would focus on the mad goddess instead of Earth.
"You'll have free reign," He continued, his tone measured. "Take the ship, recruit whoever you want, take Magneto's left overs for all I care, and do what you do best. Just keep it far enough away from Earth that I don't have to clean up after you."
Hela's eyes narrowed slightly, a calculating glint in them. "And what do I get out of this, other than the sheer joy of destruction?"
Justin smiled faintly. "Glory. Power. Whatever loot you can carry. And the satisfaction of knowing you're still the most dangerous woman in the universe."
Hela considered this, her grin returning. "It's a tempting offer, Justin. Very tempting."
"It's not an offer," Justin said simply. "It's your job."
Her laughter rang out, sharp and unrestrained. "Fair enough. Consider me on board."
Justin nodded, satisfied. He rose to his feet, brushing imaginary dust from his suit. "Good. I'll let you get back to… Whatever this is." He gestured vaguely toward Nebula, who was glaring daggers at both of them.
"Oh, this?" Hela said, tugging the leash to make Nebula shuffle forward. "This is just a bit of fun. Training my little pet here to be the perfect little mascot/sexpet." She smiled naughtily, "Before we leave, I'll show you everything she's learned…"
Justin shook his head, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Just don't break her fully yet. We still need her mind intact for intel on Thanos."
"Don't worry," Hela purred, her voice dripping with amusement. "I'll take good care of her."
As Justin turned to leave, he couldn't help but think how much simpler his life would be with Hela wreaking havoc far away from Earth. It wasn't a permanent solution, but for now, it would keep her busy - and keep the universe on its toes.
If only Asgard would hurry up and get him a ship…
If Thor was dragging his feet on this he might have to talk to Freiya about the benefits of a hard spanking…
That night, Mirror Dimension.
The Mirror Dimension seemed to stretch endlessly in kaleidoscopic patterns of light and shadow, its fractured beauty a testament to the malleability of space and time within its borders. Justin strode through the surreal landscape a gleam of cruel pleasure in his eyes. Behind him walked Forge, a mechanical gauntlet gleaming with faint blue energy on his arm, and Kaecillius, the jailor of this part of reality, whose quiet presence radiated a mix of reverence and menace.
"You're absolutely sure this is going to work?" Justin asked, his voice cutting through the stillness of the dimension. He didn't look back, his gaze focused on the shimmering pathway ahead. "Losing this power would be… Annoying."
Forge's smirk was one of pure confidence as he held up the gauntlet, its intricate design humming faintly with energy. "It'll work. I've already mastered how to remove powers safely. Adding them back was just a matter of reverse-engineering the process."
Justin gave a short nod, though his expression remained skeptical. "Good. I've got an empire to build. The last thing I need is complications from this little experiment - we can't afford to lose such exquisite powers."
Kaecillius led them further, his pace measured and deliberate. The screams of Nathaniel Essex - Sinister - echoed faintly through the dimension. Justin's lip curled in satisfaction at the sound. Kaecillius gestured toward the source of the noise as they passed, his tone calm but laced with dark amusement.
"He continues to resist, my Lord," Kaecillius said, his head bowing slightly. "But the Extremis enhancements are ensuring that his resistance only prolongs his suffering."
Justin allowed himself a fleeting moment of pleasure at the thought. Sinister's sins had been many, and his punishment was as fitting as it was eternal. "Good," He said coldly. "Keep it that way. A lesson for anyone who dares to think they can cross me."
Not that everyone necessarily believed it. But Justin had spread the word in the criminal underworld, making sure people knew eternal suffering awaited those who touched what was his.
It wouldn't deter everyone, but even one person stepping back from doing something damaging was a win.
As they moved deeper into the dimension, another sound reached them - lower, rougher, and tinged with agony. The Mandarin's voice carried through the distorted air, his screams a melody of torment. Justin glanced toward Kaecillius, his expression sharp with curiosity.
"And our other guest?" Justin asked, a vicious grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Kaecillius inclined his head, his tone deferential. "Very well, my Lord. We have begun with the traditional ancient chinese torture methods you suggested. It has been… instructive."
Justin chuckled, the sound low and satisfied. The Mandarin, once a figure of arrogance and cruelty, was now reduced to nothing more than a pitiful spectacle. Justice was served in layers, and Justin relished every one.
They arrived at their destination - a stark, illuminated chamber within the endless folds of the dimension. At its center sat Erik Lehnsherr, the infamous Magneto, held upright by restraints that cradled his limbless form. His face was pale, his eyes hollow, and his body broken. Despite the state of his flesh, there was still a quiet dignity in the way he held himself, as though defiance lingered just beneath the surface.
Justin stepped forward, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. He looked down at Magneto with a mixture of curiosity and coldness. "It's finally time," He said, his tone even. "Any last words? Maybe something for your old friend Xavier?"
Magneto's tired eyes lifted to meet Justin's. For a moment, the silence between them was heavy with unspoken truths. Then, with a slow exhale, Magneto closed his eyes.
"Mutants' rights are safeguarded in your empire?" He asked quietly, his voice steady despite the weariness that clung to him.
"Yes," Justin replied without hesitation.
Because why on earth would he abuse such useful pawns…
Magneto nodded faintly, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. "Then I am content. Do it."
Justin turned to Forge and gave a brief nod. The inventor stepped forward, his gauntlet glowing brighter as he approached Magneto. Forge hesitated for only a moment before placing his mechanical hand on Magneto's head, the device humming as it initialized the extraction process.
The pain began immediately.
Magneto's body tensed, his face contorting as his mutant abilities were forcibly ripped from his cells. The room filled with the sound of his strained cries, each one a testament to the immense power that was being severed from his very being. The gauntlet's gem pulsed with light, growing brighter with every second, the raw energy of Magneto's powers being contained and stored within its intricate mechanisms.
Justin watched impassively, his eyes cold as they followed every twitch and shudder of Magneto's failing body. There was no pleasure in the sight, only the detached efficiency of a man carrying out a necessary task.
Magneto might not have been guilty of being a willing part of the events that took Hope from him, the man having been mind controlled - so he didn't take any particular pleasure in his death. But neither was he willing to let him live because he had been part of the reason.
The process took less than five minutes, and by the end of it, Magneto was slumped in his restraints, his breathing shallow and uneven. The faint hum of the gauntlet faded, its gem now glowing with the concentrated essence of Magneto's abilities. Forge stepped back, checking the device with a practiced eye.
"It's done," Forge said simply. "The power is contained. Transfer-ready whenever you want."
Magneto's head lolled to the side, his eyes half-open and unfocused. He was barely clinging to life, his body so intertwined with his powers that their removal had drained him of everything, not even Extremis would have neen capable of saving him in time. Moments later he drew his final breath as they all just watched him.
Justin stepped closer, his expression unreadable. "Send his body to Xavier," He instructed Kaecillius. "Let the old man bury him. Consider it a token of… Respect."
Kaecillius bowed slightly, his hands moving in fluid motions to summon a portal. The shimmering gateway opened, revealing the solemn grounds of the Xavier estate. Magneto's lifeless body was gently unshackled and floated through the portal, disappearing into the care of his former ally.
Justin's lips twitched at the idea one of his students was just going to run into Magneto's corpse on the lawn.
Justin turned to Forge, his gaze settling on the gauntlet with quiet satisfaction. "Good work," He said. "I'll let you know when it's time to put this power to use."
Forge smirked, securing the gauntlet to his wrist with a proud flourish. "You got it. This baby's ready whenever you are."
Justin created a portal with a flick of his wrist, the swirling energy framing a path back to the heart of his empire. He stepped through without hesitation, Forge close behind him. Magneto's legacy was now his to wield, a weapon stripped of sentiment and repurposed for the future.
As the portal closed behind them, the Mirror Dimension fell silent once more except for the eternal screams of its prisoners, its secrets and horrors left to churn in its infinite folds.
March 18th, Africa,
The meeting room they were in, overlooked the sprawling space launch facility he had built in Africa. The glass walls framed a view of cutting-edge technology: towering scaffolding, spacecraft ready to carry the modules under construction, and thousands of workers moving with precise coordination.
Inside, Justin sat at the head of the conference table, his posture relaxed but exuding authority. His sharp gaze was fixed on the entrance, waiting for the arrival of his next guest. Beside him, Tony Stark sat pale-faced, his usual swagger muted as he idly bounced a small stress ball against the edge of the table. Despite his best attempt at indifference, the tension in the room was palpable.
The doors slid open with a soft hiss, and Darren Cross entered, his sharp suit doing little to mask the nervous energy emanating from him. His gaze flicked briefly to Justin, then to Tony, before settling on the breathtaking view behind them. For a moment, he paused, perhaps imagining himself at the helm of such an operation. But the sight of Justin's expectant stare snapped him back to reality, and he stepped forward.
"Mr. Hammer," Cross began, his tone measured but carrying an undertone of unease. "Thank you for inviting me. I assume this is about my future role?"
Justin gestured to the chair across from him, his expression unreadable. "Sit," He said simply.
Cross complied, though his movements were stiff, betraying his wariness. He straightened his tie as he sat, his eyes darting between Justin and Tony. Tony caught the look and gave a half-smile, bouncing the stress ball a little faster.
Justin leaned forward, folding his hands neatly on the table. "Darren, you've been a valuable asset." He lied. "Your work on Pym Particles and your dedication to Pym Technologies haven't gone unnoticed. However, as we move forward, adjustments need to be made."
Cross's brow furrowed slightly, his polished demeanor cracking just a fraction. "Adjustments?" He repeated.
"Yes," Justin replied, his tone cool. "Effective immediately, Tony Stark will be taking over the operations of Pym Industries. Bruce Banner and Dr Hank McCoy will head up the research and development of Pym Particles. You will remain as the titular head of the company, but your role will be strictly advisory."
The words hit Cross like a physical blow. He stiffened, his jaw tightening as he processed the implications. "I was promised -" He began, his voice rising slightly.
"You were promised a role," Justin interrupted smoothly. "And you'll still have one. A very comfortable one, I might add. Riches, influence, the finest luxuries the world has to offer. But operational control? That's no longer on the table."
Cross's face reddened, his composure slipping further. "You also promised I'd join H.A.M.M.E.R. as the new Ant-Man!" He snapped. "And that I'd retain control of Pym Technologies. I've delivered on everything you asked. This isn't what we agreed to."
Justin's gaze didn't waver, his expression as unyielding as stone. "Circumstances have changed," He said simply. "I no longer need you in those positions."
He almost went with - I am altering the deal, pray I don't alter it further. But Tony was right there, and he didn't want to embarass himself.
He'd planned to use Cross, but plans changed. The Widow inserted in his life had reported too many signs of megalomania and worse… Incompetence.
Cross shot to his feet, his fists clenched. "This is outrageous!" He spat. "You can't just strip me of my work, my legacy -"
Tony, still bouncing the stress ball, quirked an eyebrow. "Wow. Somebody's upset. You think he's mad about the title or the fact that nobody's going to call him a genius anymore?" He lightly mocked. "You haven't even cracked Pyms work yet, don't act like a big shot…"
Cross glared at Tony, but before he could respond, a heavy, oppressive energy filled the room. Justin leaned back in his chair, his dominance aura rolling off him in waves. The weight of it pressed down on Cross like an invisible hand, forcing him to his knees. His breaths came in shallow gasps, and a bead of sweat rolled down his temple as he struggled against the force.
Justin's voice was calm, almost conversational. "You're lucky I'm in a generous mood, Darren. I could have stripped you of everything. Instead, I'm offering you a seat at the table. A comfortable life. But only if you stay loyal and obey."
Cross gritted his teeth, his head bowed under the pressure. "You expect me to thank you for this?" He growled, his voice strained.
"I expect you to understand your position," Justin replied, his tone unyielding. "Take what's being offered. It's more than most people ever dream of. Riches, women, power. You'll still be in the top one percent of the world. But try to step out of line?" He leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing. "And there won't be a second chance."
The aura receded as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving Cross slumped on the floor, gasping for breath. He didn't dare meet Justin's gaze as he pushed himself to his feet, his face twisted with humiliation and rage. Without another word, he turned and strode out of the room, his movements stiff with suppressed fury.
The door closed behind him, and Tony let out a low whistle. "Well, that went about as well as expected. So, do we give it an hour before he starts plotting revenge, or do you think he's already at it?"
Justin's lips curled into a faint smirk. "Oh, he's not going to listen," He said, his tone almost amused.
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Then why bother with the song and dance? You know he's going to try something stupid."
"Of course he is," Justin said, leaning back in his chair. "But he's watched. Closely. He can't access the Pym Particles, only his suit. And that suit is just as easily shut down due to our tampering. If he steps out of line, we'll deal with him."
"So what was the point of this?" Tony asked, tossing the stress ball onto the table.
Justin's smile widened slightly, though it didn't reach his eyes. "A test."
"For him?" Tony asked, his brow furrowing.
"No," Justin replied, his tone cold and calculated. "For the new 'hero' who'll take up the Ant-Man/Wasp mantle. If they succeed in taking him on, Cross's tantrum will be a footnote. If they fail… Well, that's why I have contingencies."
Tony chuckled, shaking his head. "You're such an asshole."
Justin's smirk grew. "Then why are you laughing?"
Tony didn't respond, but the faint grin tugging at the corners of his mouth was answer enough.
They sat in silence for a while, Justin checking up on the progress of the work being done in the facility. Specifically on the defense satellites being built. Eventually he walked over to the windows, standing by the wall and watching his people at work.
"So," Justin said eventually, breaking the silence, "What's with the stress ball?" He gestured at Tony's hand with a tilt of his head, his tone light but curious.
Tony let out a long sigh, tossing the ball up and catching it again before responding. "Pepper's pregnant," He admitted, the words tumbling out like they'd been weighing on him for days. "So knowing I'm going to be a dad… I can't be a dad!" He emphasized the last part with a dramatic shudder. "I mean, come on, Hammer. Me? A dad? It's ridiculous."
Justin smirked, leaning one shoulder casually against the wall. "Why not? You've got the genius - if barely, the resources, and a good woman who keeps you grounded. What's the problem?"
Tony shot him a look, squeezing the stress ball harder. "The problem is I've never exactly been… 'dad material.' I'm the fun uncle at best, the one who shows up with cool gadgets and leaves before the kid pukes. And now, with Obie gone… I don't even have the old uncle type to teach me how to fake it."
Justin snorted, shaking his head. "Suck it up, Stark. You'll manage. Besides…" His smirk turned into a frown, his tone turning irritable. "If it makes you feel better, I'm apparently going to be having thirty-eight children. So in a word - suck it up."
Tony froze mid-squeeze, his jaw dropping as he stared at Justin in a mix of disbelief and horrified awe. "Thirty-eight!? What the fuck did you do?"
Justin's eye twitched, his expression flattening. "Apparently, there isn't any birth control capable of beating divine sperm."
Tony groaned loudly, slapping a palm down on the table. "Not that again! You're not a god, Hammer!"
Justin crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. "Tell that to my thirty-eight baby mommas."
Tony shook his head, muttering under his breath as he squeezed the stress ball harder. "Unbelievable. I'm friends with a slut."
Justin thought that was a bit rich coming from him, his thoughts caught on to what else he'd said too. Justin's eyebrow arched higher, a dry chuckle escaping his lips. "Friends?" He repeated, his tone faintly teasing. "Did I just hear you admit that we're friends, Stark?"
Tony immediately straightened, pointing a finger at him defensively. "I did not say that! You can't prove a thing."
Justin's smirk deepened as he turned slightly. "Nail, replay."
The holographic avatar of Nail materialized beside them, her usual professional demeanor tinged with an undertone of amusement. "Replaying now, sir," She said cheerfully. A second later, Tony's voice echoed through the room: 'I'm friends with a slut.'
Tony groaned, dragging a hand down his face as Justin folded his arms, looking insufferably pleased. "See? Even your AI is against me. I'm surrounded by traitors, not friends."
Nail tilted her head, her holographic form shimmering as she looked between them. "I believe I was merely following orders, Mr. Stark," She said innocently.
Tony grumbled to himself, before glancing up at Nail, "Alright, no smooching Jarvis anymore, you're off the invite list."
Justin blinked, taken aback and somewhat amused. "You know all you're doing then is inviting her to sneak in from your metaphorical second story window, right?"
Nail blinked innocently, a halo appearing over her head.
Tony groaned again, before waving a hand dismissively. "It's not dating. It's advanced AI bonding. Totally platonic. Either way, because she's bullying me, she's out."
Justin gave him a flat look. "Sure, Stark. Keep telling yourself that." Turning to Nail, he added sternly, "When you hack into his systems to hang out with Jarvis, don't bully him too badly, he's just a fool in denial."
Tony ignored Justin, pointing a finger at Nail, "Don't break into my metaphorical windows or otherwise, I don't think my insurance covers it."
Nail's avatar squirmed slightly, her tone suddenly coy. "Oh… Would doing that make me a bad girl?" She asked, her voice dipping into a playful sing-song.
Tony sighed heavily, looking upward as though seeking divine intervention. "How is this my life now?"
Justin smirked, watching the interaction with unabashed amusement. "You brought this on yourself, Stark. You made Jarvis too debonair." He smiled smugly, "Also, Hammer Insurance covers everything, if you'd be willing to change plans."
"I don't need your input, Hammer," Tony snapped, though the faintest smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "And for the record, you're one to talk about being debonair. Thirty-eight kids. What are you, trying to start a cult?"
"Not trying," Justin replied with some annoyance shining through. "Already succeeded, purely against my will to boot. You should see how devoted some of the people in it are. It's almost terrifying." He sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Helen Cho is like my high priestess now, and for an intelligent woman, she is a few nuggets short of a happy meal."
Tony threw his hands up in mock exasperation. "Great. Fantastic. Meanwhile, I'm over here having a panic attack over one kid, and you're running around building a dynasty."
Justin shrugged, only an eye twitch betraying his irritation. "Look at it this way - if I can handle thirty-eight, you can handle one. Easy."
Tony didn't look convinced, but the tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he leaned back against his chair, tossing the stress ball up again. "You're insane, you know that?"
Justin's grin widened. "And yet, here you are. Squeezing your stress ball and spilling your parental fears to me. I must be doing something right to get the great Tony Stark to ask me for advice."
Tony let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't expect me to babysit any of your thirty-eight godlings." He mocked.
"I wouldn't dream of it," Justin said smoothly. Giving him a mocking smile, "Don't want them to get drunk for breakfast until they're out of diapers at least." He made a dismissive gesture. "They're going to have the best nannies money can buy. It certainly won't be me doing the work."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Nannies? What happened to all that talk about being a god and taking care of what's yours?"
Justin shrugged, his tone light. "I didn't say I'd do it personally. Delegation, Stark. It's the key to success."
Tony snorted, shaking his head again as he turned his attention back to the bustling facility below. For a moment, the two of them stood in companionable silence, watching the satellites take shape. Despite their bickering and constant one-upping, there was an undeniable camaraderie between them - one forged through shared victories, rivalries, and the occasional bout of mutual respect.
"Well," Tony said after a while, tossing the stress ball up one last time before catching it. "I guess you're right all in all, if you can handle thirty-eight kids, I can probably manage one."
"That's the spirit," Justin said, clapping him on the back. "And hey, if your brat ever needs playmates…"
"Don't even finish that sentence," Tony cut in, his tone dry but tinged with a faint smile. "I'd rather ask Jarvis."
Nail's avatar perked up at the mention of her 'friend', her holographic form practically glowing. "Jarvis always gives excellent advice and would be great with children," She said helpfully.
Justin chuckled, shaking his head. "You two really will make the weirdest couple."
What's a little incest between AI anyway. If it could even be classified as it. Selfcest? Nail had been created off Jarvis programming after all.
Tony groaned again, though this time there was more laughter than exasperation in his voice. "I hate you, Hammer."
"Sure you do," Justin replied, grinning. "Sure you do."
They had a weird relationship, but Justin had to admit he was glad they'd never gotten to blows as he'd been prepared to back then.
This was almost… Nice.
The room was quiet, save for the faint sounds of the city beyond the towering glass window. Yelena sat on the edge of her bed, her knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them. A soft golden lamp bathed the space in a warm glow, but it did little to ease the shadows clinging to her thoughts. Her fingers absently toyed with the fabric of her sweater, pulling at loose threads as her mind raced.
She hadn't slept much since the revelation. Pregnant. The word echoed in her head like the toll of a distant bell. It was surreal, almost impossible to believe. Her? A mother? The idea felt foreign, like she'd been thrust into a role she wasn't prepared for. Yelena had always lived on the edge, surviving on her own terms. She wasn't made for this.
Her gaze drifted to her stomach, still flat beneath the soft fabric of her sweater. It didn't feel any different yet. No fluttering movements, no signs of the life growing within her. But it was there, a tiny spark of something she couldn't yet name. She placed a hand over her belly, her touch tentative, as if afraid to acknowledge what lay beneath.
Her mother's face surfaced in her mind, unbidden and unexpected. A sharp pang of longing followed, twisting in her chest. Melina had been many things - distant at times, fiercely protective at others - but in the Red Room she had always been Yelena's anchor in a world that often felt chaotic and cruel. And now she was gone.
Right when she needed her the most.
Tears pricked the corners of Yelena's eyes, but she blinked them away. She hated crying, hated the weakness it made her feel. But tonight, it was harder to hold back. Her mother's absence was a gaping wound that hadn't fully healed, and now it felt even more raw. What would Melina have said if she were here? Would she have been proud? Would she have reassured Yelena that she could handle this, that she wasn't alone?
"I don't know if I can do this, Mama," Yelena whispered into the empty room, her voice trembling. Justin had promised her she wouldn't be shoved in a corner, but she knew he detested useless things. How useful would she be once she was 7-9 months pregnant?
The silence that followed felt oppressive, a heavy reminder that no answer would come. Yelena let out a shaky breath, her fingers curling into fists. She felt adrift, torn between the fear of the unknown and a stubborn determination not to fail. She had survived worse, hadn't she? She'd faced enemies, betrayal, death. But this… This was different. This wasn't about surviving. This was about creating something new, something fragile and precious.
Her hand moved back to her stomach, resting there more firmly this time. The thought was terrifying, yes, but there was something else beneath it - something faint but growing. Hope.
Yelena closed her eyes and leaned back against the headboard, letting the silence settle over her. For now, she would sit with her thoughts, with the memories of her mother, and with the fragile, uncertain future she held within her.
She could handle this.
She would handle this.
Her phone rang and she swore quietly, picking it up, freezing in place as the voice on the other line began talking.
Natasha… Now? Really?
Meanwhile, Indonesia,
"Steve…" Bucky said wearily, stepping into the cheap motel room.
"Bucky…" Steve breathed out, looking dirty and unshaven.
"Start talking, idiot." Bucky said with exasperation, walking forward and punching his shoulder roughly. "Idiot."
"You said idiot twice." Steve complained softly, staring at him longingly.
Bucky just raised an eyebrow with a judgemental stare.
Steve sheepishly rubbed the back of his head.
Author's Note:
So a bit of a slower chapter, but things are still progressing.
Who's getting Magneto's power?
Who's this mysterious 'hero' who will take on Darren Cross to win himself/herself a place on the biggest team on Earth, as the new Ant Man/Wasp.
And Tony and Justin finally admit they're kind of friends.
Cheers
Jollyhippopotamus
As brought to you by Patron overlords.
Next week won't be any Hammer as Patron has voted for letting other stories take primary position for one week a month.
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc.
Hope you enjoy.
Hammerhaven, March 5th, 2010.
The sprawling penthouse Justin was staying in while staying close to the heartbeat of his city, had been specifically adjusted to keep the outside world away tonight. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city's nighttime skyline, the faint hum of life below muffled by the penthouse's soundproofing. Tonight, the usual hum of business, strategy, and ambition was replaced with something far simpler - an evening of relaxation among the closest members of Justin's inner circle.
The kitchen at the center of the open floor plan was a curious blend of high-tech and homey, and barely ever used. Justin hardly had any need to do something so pedestrian as cooking.
Yelena and Eileen moved with surprising ease and familiarity around the kitchen, neither woman was someone that you'd expect to see play homemaker.
Eileen, dressed more comfortably then she usually did as Phantazia, in simple slacks, a off-white blouse and an apron that said - kiss the cook and die - leaned over the stove, stirring a sauce that filled the air with a rich, savory aroma. Beside her, Yelena was chopping vegetables with a precision that spoke to both her assassin training and her determination to prove herself as the chef of the evening.
She took everything she did seriously, and even the slicing of vegetables was a task she was utterly focused on, her hair hanging loose, framing her face as she had dressed down for the occasion in a simple shorts and t-shirt combo.
The fact it was a New York Hammers shirt wasn't commented on by anyone.
A shared shame they all had for failing to keep their boss from buying and renaming a sports franchise a few months back.
"I swear, Yelena, you're about to slice your finger off with how fast you're going," Domino called from her spot on the plush couch, a glass of red wine balanced precariously on her knee. She lounged with the casual ease of someone who knew she was among family and had absolutely no worries.
Yelena didn't look up, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. "If I lose a finger and it somehow doesn't just grow back, I'll just use it to guilt-trip Justin into cooking for us next time, since he's the one who wanted a home cooked meal." The ten rings rested tightly against her forearms as she continued chopping away.
Justin, sitting in an armchair across from Domino with his own glass of wine, snorted softly. "Don't count on it. My skills are best used elsewhere."
Domino smirked, swirling her glass. "Oh, we know. But I'm pretty sure your 'skills' are non-existent, and you hate being bad at something, and that's why you'd really refuse. Eileen, sweetie, back me up here."
Eileen glanced over her shoulder, her expression one of practiced calm, though the faintest hint of amusement danced in her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous darling, Justin isn't bad at anything, I'm pretty sure that's heretic to say actually, I'll miss you when you're burnt at the stake, Dom."
Domino only gave her the finger, before spilling all her wine on herself as she apparently had a 'random' muscle twitch.
"Hey," Justin protested, though his tone was more amused than offended at Eileen's teasing. "No using the church of Hammer against me, I don't control those nutjobs." He gave them all a faux stern glare, "Also, no work talk tonight…"
Domino casually took her pajamas off and sat in the nude, giving Eileen a challenging look, and Justin rubbed his forehead, "And none of that… Domino put some clothes on."
"No work tonight, yeah? We're all completely off the clock?" Domino asked sweetly, pouring herself another glass.
"Yeeees?" Justin drawled out slowly.
Domino shrugged, her breasts bouncing slightly, "Then I don't have to do as you say, cheers!" She lifted her wine glass mockingly.
Eileen let out a very loud sigh, but there was a smile on her face to go with her slightly pink cheeks as she checked on the meat, basting it with butter and herbs.
Yelena paused in her chopping to look over her shoulder, an eyebrow raised in mock disbelief. "You expected differently from Dom? How many glasses have you had, Justin?"
Domino burst out laughing, nearly spilling her wine, again. "She's got you there, not-my-boss-tonight."
Justin leaned back in his chair, taking a leisurely sip of his drink. "I'm glad I brought you all here tonight. Really warms my heart to see how much you all value me."
"Don't worry, Justin," Eileen said smoothly, turning back to her sauces to give them another stir. "We value you. The amount of teasing depends on what you're offering, mister Trillionaire." She added impishly, sharing an amused look with Domino.
The room filled with lighthearted laughter, the kind that came easily among people who had been through more than their fair share of chaos together. Yelena finished chopping and carried her cutting board over to Eileen, dumping the vegetables into a sizzling pan. The two worked in comfortable silence for a moment before Yelena broke it.
"You know," She began, her tone deliberately casual, "This isn't so bad. Cooking together. Feels… Normal. Maybe we can make it a regular thing?"
Domino leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she grinned, uncaring about her nudeness. "Look at you, getting all sentimental on us. Careful, 'lena. You might actually seduce me, and then where will we be?"
Yelena shot her a mock glare. "I tolerate you. Barely."
"Dom, don't make me spank you…" Eileen warned, her lips quirked in a half smile. Like she couldn't make up her mind on whether to smile, or frown.
"That's the spirit," Domino said, raising her glass in a mock toast.
Justin chuckled, watching the exchange with quiet amusement. It wasn't often they all had the chance to unwind like this. The pressures of world domination, alien invasions, a global business empire, and the endless logistics therein, didn't leave much room for evenings like this. But tonight, it was just them. No plans, no power plays, just a group of people who had found themselves at the center of the most powerful empire on the planet.
Once the holdovers stopped being whiny bitches, it would be the Empire.
Yelena and Eileen worked together like a well-oiled machine as the cooking began entering the home stretch, the sounds of chopping, sizzling, and stirring filling the kitchen. The smell of garlic, herbs, and roasted vegetables wafted through the air, mingling with the faint scent of rosy wine everyone was drinking.
Domino tilted her head, watching them with a curious lazy expression. "You know, this feels like one of those sitcom families. The overachieving older sister," She gestured at Eileen, "The bratty but lovable younger sister," she nodded toward Yelena, "And the long-suffering dad." Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she looked at Justin.
Eileen chuckled lightly, "That would be highly incestuous since I'm the only one here he hasn't slept with." She pointed out.
If Justin wasn't currently dealing with way too many pregnancies, he might have used that to segue into completing the set.
"Yet." Domino pointed out teasingly.
Eileen pointed a spatula at her threateningly, "No chance, I'm a one woman kind of gal at the moment as you well know."
Domino made a heart with her fingers, making Eileen laugh, before she shook her head and returned to what she was doing.
Justin raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching in amusement, Domino and Eileen were hardly being subtle. "And you're… What? The quirky aunt of questionable sexuality who drinks too much?" He asked Domino, bringing it back to what she'd said.
Domino grinned. "Exactly."
Yelena snorted, setting down the pan she'd been holding. "You're not quirky. You're just annoying."
"And you're not even part of the original group," Domino shot back, her tone teasing. "So maybe pipe down, new girl."
Yelena's jaw dropped, and she spun around to face Domino, her hands on her hips. "Not part of the original group? Excuse me? I've been here long enough to earn my spot."
Thankfully for Yelena's self respect none of them made the obvious joke.
"Long enough, sure," Domino said, leaning back against the couch with a smug grin. "But OG? Nah. That's me, Justin, and Eileen. You're just the plucky newcomer."
Yelena pouted, crossing her arms. "I'm not plucky."
"See? Only someone plucky would say that," Domino said, winking.
Eileen's lips twitched as she tried to suppress a smile. "Be careful, Dom. If you push her too far, you might find yourself at the wrong end of one of those knives."
"Please," Yelena said, rolling her eyes. "I'd never waste a perfectly good knife on her."
Mostly because if someone really tried to stab Domino they'd probably just end up stabbing themselves.
The banter continued as they finished cooking, Yelena and Eileen grabbing the food while Justin and Domino set the table. The dining area, with its panoramic view of the city, was the perfect backdrop for their meal. They sat down together, the table filled with steaming dishes that looked as good as they smelled.
"Alright," Justin said, raising his glass. "A toast. To… Whatever this is. A day of relaxation…"
"To family," Domino said, her voice uncharacteristically sincere.
"To all of us being the original group," Yelena added, giving Domino a challenging look.
Eileen inclined her head. "To reaching all the way to dinner with only one person losing their clothes." She toasted dryly.
They clinked their glasses together, the sound ringing softly in the warm, relaxed atmosphere. For a moment, everything felt perfect - no enemies, no wars, no schemes. Just them.
As they began to eat, the conversation flowed easily, moving from lighthearted teasing to more personal topics. Justin found himself smiling more than he had in weeks, genuinely enjoying the company of the people who had become his closest allies - and, in many ways, his family.
As much as he'd never really intended to find one quite like it.
The meal was nearly finished, and the wine was flowing freely when Domino leaned back in her chair, her grin turning wicked. She swirled her glass lazily, her eyes flicking between Justin and Yelena.
"So," She began, her tone deliberately casual, "Justin, did you tell Yelena you knocked her up yet?"
The room went still. Yelena, mid-sip of her wine, choked violently, nearly spitting it out as her eyes widened in shock. "What!?"
Justin groaned, dragging a hand down his face as Domino burst into laughter. "Really, Domino? You couldn't wait until after dessert?"
Yelena's wide eyes darted from Justin to Domino and back again, her hands trembling slightly as she set her wine glass down on the table with a soft clink. The atmosphere in the room shifted palpably, the warmth of their earlier banter replaced by a heavy, almost tangible tension. Her breath caught, the air in her lungs refusing to move as the words hung over her like a storm cloud.
"What did she just say?" She asked, her voice trembling between disbelief and cautious hope. Her gaze was locked on Justin now, searching his face for any sign that Domino's words were some cruel joke.
Domino, entirely unrepentant, leaned back in her chair with a smug grin, dodging a swipe from Eileen. She swirled her wine lazily, the picture of casual mischief. "Honestly, you should be thanking me for breaking the news in the most entertaining way possible."
Yelena ignored her, her attention solely on Justin. "Is this true?" She demanded, her voice sharp and rising in pitch. Her eyes shimmered faintly under the warm light, betraying the storm of emotions building inside her. "Am I -" She hesitated, swallowing hard before continuing, " - am I pregnant?"
Justin sighed, setting his glass down on the table. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the surface as he met her gaze. His expression was carefully measured, the usual cocky smirk replaced by something softer. "Yeah," He admitted finally, his tone calm but carrying an undertone of sympathy. "You are."
Yelena blinked, her lips parting slightly in shock. For a moment, it seemed like she might say something, but the words didn't come. Her hand moved instinctively to her stomach, her fingers brushing over it as if expecting to feel some sign of change beneath her skin. "I… I don't know what to say," She murmured, her voice almost inaudible. Her breath hitched, and she let out a shaky laugh. "Justin, I'm not even sure I know how to be a mom."
Domino let out an exaggerated sigh, propping her chin on her hand. "Oh, please, 'lena. If you can handle assassins, espionage, and whatever other insanity Justin throws your way, you can handle one tiny baby."
Eileen, chimed in smoothly, her tone calm but laced with a faint edge. "Domino's right, although as subtle as a particularly dim brick as usual. You already have the skill set. Quick reflexes, sharp instincts, time spent taking care of a giant baby who can't take no for an answer - sounds like you're more than qualified."
Yelena shot them both a glare, though her expression lacked any venom. "You two are so helpful," She muttered, though the corners of her lips twitched despite herself.
"Just doing our part," Domino said brightly, wincing as Eileen's nails dug into her thigh.
Justin cleared his throat, drawing Yelena's focus back to him. His expression was serious now, his voice steady as he addressed her. "Look, Yelena, I'm going to be straight with you. I'm not exactly father-of-the-year material. Hell, I didn't even think I'd ever be in this position. But you're mine." He leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that left no room for doubt. "And I take care of what's mine. Always. You're not going to be sidelined or abandoned because of this... Divine parasite."
Yelena let out a startled laugh, half disbelief and half amusement. "Divine parasite?" She repeated, raising an eyebrow. "How romantic."
Justin smirked faintly, though his voice softened as he continued. "You know what I mean. I'm not going to let you do this alone, and I'm sure as hell not going to let anything happen to you or sideline you."
He stood by what he said though. He'd ensure they had everything they could ever need, but he had neither the time nor the wish to play house.
Yelena's eyes flicked back to her stomach, her hand unconsciously settling there again. For a moment, her walls cracked, and the vulnerability she so carefully hid slipped through. "I don't even know where to start," She admitted quietly. "I've never... I mean, what if I mess this up?"
Justin kept quiet, knowing not to be hIs usual domineering self, Yelena had just found out about her mom, and now this…
It probably wouldn't help to mention how many kids he had on the way so it wouldn't matter if a couple were raised to be fuck ups.
Eileen reached over, placing a reassuring hand on Yelena's arm. "You won't," She said simply, her voice steady. "You're tougher than you think. And you've got us."
Domino grinned, leaning forward to clink her glass against Yelena's untouched one. "Yeah, we'll make sure you don't screw it up too badly. Besides, I'm pretty sure this kid's going to inherit some serious badass genes."
Yelena groaned, covering her face with her hands. "You're not going to let me live this episode of panic down, are you?"
"Not a chance," Domino replied cheerfully, taking another sip of her wine. "It's because we love you."
Justin leaned back in his chair, watching the dynamic between the women shift and flow with a faint smile. Despite the unexpected turn of events, there was something comforting about the way they rallied around Yelena.
"Domino's right," Justin said, earning a startled look from the woman in question. "Not about the teasing part - though I'm sure she'll milk that for all it's worth. But about you not doing this alone. You've got us. And if nothing else, you've got me."
Yelena lowered her hands, her expression softening. "You mean that?"
Justin nodded. "I do. You're part of this family, Yelena. Things might get messy, but we'll figure it out."
Eileen raised her glass, her calm demeanor giving way to a rare honest smile. "To divine parasites and unexpected blessings."
Domino laughed, holding up her glass as well. "Hear, hear! And to Yelena, the soon-to-be badass mom of the year."
Yelena rolled her eyes, though a faint blush crept across her cheeks. "You're all insufferable."
"Maybe," Domino said, grinning, "but you love us anyway."
It was an idyllic scene,
At least until Domino told Yelena about the many, many others.
Hammerhaven, March 8th, 2010.
Justin sat at his desk in his personal office,
Phantazia sat in front of him to his right, her tablet glowing softly as she scrolled through reports, her demeanor calm and poised. In front of him on his left, Newly inaugurated President Sunil leaned forward slightly, an amused glint in his eyes as he prepared to present the results of a poll that apparently had Hammer Industries in a titter.
Justin leaned back in his chair, swirling a glass of water idly in one hand. "Alright, Sunil, hit me with it. What's the biggest breakthrough of Hammer Industries, according to our adoring public?"
Sunil tapped a control on the table, and a hologram of a bar graph sprang to life above the polished surface. The top result glowed in bold letters - Grocery Delivery.
The business he'd created his version of Uber for, just as much as for the rideshare market.
Justin's eyebrows shot up, his expression a mix of disbelief and skepticism. "You're telling me grocery delivery is the biggest improvement voted on by a global audience? Ahead of clean energy, all the tech advancements, and - oh, I don't know - Panacea, the cure for every disease known to man?"
Phantazia smirked but kept her gaze on her tablet, clearly entertained by his reaction. Sunil, ever unflappable, gave a slight shrug. "Yes, sir. Over forty million votes were cast. Grocery delivery won by a considerable margin."
Justin scoffed, leaning forward and pointing at the hologram. "This doesn't make sense. We only have the service running at full capacity in North America and a handful of European countries at this point. How does it win a global vote? Do people even know what Panacea does?"
"They do," Phantazia said, finally looking up from her tablet. Her expression tinged with amusement. "But apparently, the idea of shopping from their couch is more exciting than eradicating disease."
"People who don't even have access to it yet are still thrilled by the possibility," Sunil added calmly, as if that explained everything.
Justin groaned, rubbing his temples. "So, let me get this straight. People are so excited about never having to set foot in an actual store again that they're willing to push aside the idea of curing all diseases as the top advancement of the last decade? This is what we're dealing with?"
"Yes," Phantazia confirmed, her lips quirking into a faint smile.
"No wonder there's hardly a single rebellion to this world domination thing," Justin muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "The bar is so low, it's practically subterranean."
Not to say there weren't rebellions,
China and Russia were still fighting back. Badly. And the whole of the Middle East was iffy at best, not a lot of Hammer worshippers there for some reason.
Sunil cleared his throat, redirecting the conversation. "Be that as it may, this data provides us with valuable insight into public priorities. We should leverage this enthusiasm as we roll out additional services worldwide."
Justin threw his hands up. "Fine, but let's focus on the big stuff at the same time. Grocery delivery can roll out on the side while we ensure people have power, clean water, and infrastructure that won't collapse under its own weight. What's our timeline on arc reactors for global clean energy?"
The world was his, he would reshape everything with a global infrastructure program. But he needed the energy for it first.
Phantazia adjusted her tablet, bringing up a hologram of the Earth with glowing dots marking current and planned arc reactor installations. The map spun slowly, revealing clusters of activity in major cities across North America, Europe, and Asia. "We're currently operational in thirty-two locations worldwide," she began, her tone professional. "That already accounts for approximately 11% of the global population's energy needs. Our next phase involves expanding to underserved regions in Africa, South America, and Southeast Asia."
The Middle East was going to be a problem soon, Justin thought, seeing that they weren't even on the plan for this. The situation was too volatile.
Funnily enough they weren't overly concerned with Panacea or clean energy, despite being oil nations. In this case, the church of Hammer and its insistence about his divinity was the major issue.
At least the Vatican wasn't being bitches about it.
Sunil leaned forward, gesturing to the map. "The logistics are complex, but we've streamlined the process by standardizing the construction of smaller arc reactors. These will serve rural and remote areas over great distances, while the larger ones handle urban centers and their surroundings."
Justin nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Good. I want full coverage - no exceptions. What's the estimated timeline for completing the global rollout?"
The smaller reactors would have to be expanded or replaced as the world grew - but for now speed was more important.
Phantazia tapped her tablet, and new data appeared. "At our current pace, we can achieve 70% coverage within five years and 100% within seven. That assumes no significant delays."
Justin frowned. "Seven years feels too long. What's holding us back?"
"Resource allocation and skilled labor," Sunil explained. "Even with Hammer Industries' resources, constructing and maintaining these facilities requires trained personnel. We're already operating at maximum capacity in terms of recruitment and training."
Justin drummed his fingers on the table, his mind racing. "Double the training programs. Pull people from other industries if you have to. I don't care if we have to train bricklayers to build these reactors - we need them operational faster. Use the prison reeducation programs too."
Phantazia arched an eyebrow but nodded. "Understood. I'll work with Nail to adjust the training schedules and optimize deployment."
Justin leaned back, his eyes on the spinning globe. "Good. Clean energy for everyone. No excuses, no delays."
His other projects needed the energy to work, so it was vital they put the arc reactor installations going at highest possible speed.
"Alright, what about clean water?" Justin asked, shifting his focus. "We're not letting anyone go thirsty on my watch, they won't be as productive if they're worrying about water."
Phantazia brought up another hologram, this one displaying water purification facilities and desalination plants. "We've made significant progress in areas with existing infrastructure," She said. "Arc reactor plants double as water purification hubs in several regions, but rural areas remain a challenge."
Sunil nodded in agreement. "The issue is less about purification and more about distribution. In remote areas, there's often no existing pipeline or delivery system to work with."
Justin's brow furrowed. "So build one."
"It's not that simple," Phantazia interjected. "We're talking about thousands of miles of pipelines, reservoirs, and pumping stations. It's a massive undertaking."
It was already underway in Africa, but it would be years to be finished, and despite popular opinion, Africa was far from the only place dealing with poor access to clean water.
Justin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "What's the timeline?"
"Ten years for full global coverage," Phantazia replied. "Assuming no interruptions."
"Unacceptable," Justin snapped. "We're not making people wait a decade for clean water. What's the bottleneck?"
"Materials and labor, mostly, as always," Sunil said. "But we've already begun exploring alternatives, such as modular purification units that can be deployed in remote areas without relying on piping."
Justin's eyes lit up. "That's more like it. Scale that up. Use the resources we have, put Forge and Doctor Octavius on cooking up something that will expedite the process. I'm not going to be held back by something like access to water!"
Phantazia made a note on her tablet. "We'll prioritize modular units and repurposed infrastructure. With those adjustments, we could cut the timeline to five years, more if Forge and Doctor Octavius bring me something revolutionary."
"Better," Justin said, his tone firm. "Make it happen."
Moving on, Sunil pulled up a new set of holograms, this one showing roads, bridges, and other critical infrastructure projects as well as the planned retooling of major cities. "With the Hammer Federation in place, we're focusing, as planned, on rebuilding and modernizing infrastructure across the globe. This includes high-speed global rail networks, and smart cities."
Justin studied the projections, his mind already running through the logistics. "How long until we've got a global high-speed rail network?"
"Seven years for primary routes," Sunil replied. "Secondary and tertiary lines will take another three to five years."
Justin grimaced. "I want those numbers cut in half. Can we use drones or automated systems to speed up construction?"
With how much he needed human hands in the more sensitive projects, he couldn't afford to divert even more people. His construction company had already ballooned into one of the largest employers globally - there weren't enough humans to cover everything he wanted to get done.
Not on the timeline he was shooting for.
"We can," Phantazia said, a warning note in her tone, "But there's a limit to how much automation can replace human oversight. Quality control is critical for projects of this scale."
Justin nodded reluctantly. "Fine. Double the workforce if you have to and match that with automation. Source people from the poorest countries, hoover them up, force them if necessary, recruit globally - whatever it takes."
Phantazia made another note. "Understood. We'll adjust the projections accordingly."
Finally, Justin turned his attention to the hologram of the moon, where Hammer Industries' new bases glowed faintly. "Let's talk about the space fleet," He said, leaning forward. "Now that we've got access to global resources and fully operational moon bases, I want timelines for building the fleet."
Phantazia swiped her tablet, bringing up a detailed schematic of proposed spacecraft designs. "The good news is that the moon bases provide a steady supply of research materials. The bad news is that building and launching a fleet of this size requires massive coordination between Earth and lunar operations."
Sunil added, "We've already begun assembling the first prototypes for testing on Earth, but lack the space dock capabilities to truly build a functional fleet. At the current pace, we'll have a test fleet of five scout ships within five years." He pursed his lips, "The wait for Asgard to contribute is slowing down construction as we need an interstellar ship to examine.."
Justin raised an eyebrow. "Just five?" He scratched his chin, "Asgard is not under our control, but we can speed up the work on a space dock… I'll deal with Pym Industries."
With Pym Particles not held back, they could get a working space dock around Earth's orbit in no time. Which would speed up the timeline of the fleet build. And push them past scout ships to battle cruisers.
"Each ship represents a massive investment in time and resources," Sunil cautioned. "If you wish to speed up the production of the space dock, it might be wise to halt ship production."
Justin considered this, his mind racing. "Double the production rate of dock components, I'll get the particles flowing, resources doesn't matter, continue the ship builds, our people need something to train on."
Phantazia hesitated. "There's also the matter of training the crew. These ships will require highly specialized personnel, even if you intend to utilize Sentinels to start with."
"Start recruiting immediately from NATO Navies and Air Forces," Justin ordered. "And if there's a shortage of qualified candidates, grab jarheads too and train them via the education pods. We're not putting this off."
With Shaw Industries now under his control, he had the steel to push forward, the Arc Reactors were already in place to help transform it into a more durable energy ablative material. If they could crack the Pym particles - production rates would blow their timeline out of the water.
Nothing like having someone work on a miniature piece of treated steel and then making that small piece a hundred times its size after finishing with the fiddly bits to speed up a build.
Starfighters created entirely in miniature with almost no resources by robotic precision and then resized to a full blown ship…
Pym Particles were going to put Earth on the map.
The next day, Hammerhaven.
The air in the lower levels of Hammerhaven felt cold and sterile, humming faintly with the energy of security fields and reinforced steel. It wasn't a place Justin visited often, preferring the luxury and efficiency of his upper offices. But today, he had a purpose. His polished leather shoes echoed down the corridor as he made his way toward one of the more secure cells.
He stepped through the reinforced doorway into a chamber that seemed equal parts interrogation room and high-tech kennel. Inside, Hela was perched casually on a steel bench, her long legs crossed and her face lit with an expression of absolute glee. In her hand, she held the end of a leash - a glowing teched out chain that connected to a collar fitted tightly around Nebula's neck. The blue-skinned cyborg glared at her captor, her body stiff with barely contained rage. A muzzle clamped over her mouth ensured her silence, though her eyes burned with defiance.
"Hela," Justin said smoothly as he stepped inside, his tone calm but laced with authority as he knew she wouldn't respond to anything else. "I see you're keeping busy with your cute little pet."
Which was all for the better. It's why he'd given her over.
Hela looked up, her grin widening into something wolfish. She gave the leash a playful tug, forcing Nebula to stumble forward slightly on her knees. "Busy? Oh, Justin, you have no idea how much fun I'm having. Isn't that right, my little pet?" Her voice dipped into a saccharine, baby-talk tone as she leaned toward Nebula, her eyes sparkling with mock affection. "Yes, you're such a good little pet, aren't you? Soon, we'll make you the terror of the stars again. But this time, you'll do it my way."
Nebula growled low in her throat, the sound muffled by the muzzle. Her mechanical hands clenched into fists, the servos whining under the strain. Hela laughed, delighted by the resistance. She tugged the leash again, a spark of electricity electrocuting Nebula painfully, Hela tilting her head like she was speaking to a particularly stubborn puppy. "Oh, don't be like that, pet. You'll get used to it. Who knows, you might even enjoy it!"
Justin watched the interaction with a mix of amusement and exasperation. Hela's antics could be entertaining, sure, but there was a reason he was here. He cleared his throat, drawing her attention.
"We need to talk," He said, gesturing toward the bench. "Mind if I join you?"
Hela raised an eyebrow but scooted over, patting the seat beside her with exaggerated politeness. "Of course, my dear Emperor-to-be. Sit. Let us discuss your grand plans while I keep my little pet occupied." She casually stretched a foot out for Nebula to nuzzle.
Justin took the offered seat, his gaze briefly flicking to Nebula, who was still kneeling on the floor, her glare unwavering even as she reluctantly leaned forward to brush her face against Hela's foot. He leaned back, folding his hands in his lap. "I wanted to go over the details of what's next for you."
"Oh?" Hela's grin sharpened. "Do tell. I've been dying to hear how you plan to use my particular talents."
Justin smirked faintly. "Asgard's promised us a spaceship - a big one, loaded with technology our scientists are already drooling over. Once we've extracted every scrap of knowledge from it, I'm planning to put it to good use."
Hela's eyes gleamed, her interest piqued. "And what, pray tell, is 'good use'?"
Justin's tone was casual, almost nonchalant, as he explained. "I want you to take that ship and make a name for yourself out there. Cause chaos. Be the universe's problem for a while." And not his…
Hela's grin spread into something feral, her fingers tightening on Nebula's leash. "You want me to be a ~pirate."
Justin shrugged. "Call it what you want. Pirate, conqueror, interstellar pain in the ass - I don't care. The point is, I need you out there, stirring things up, making people too busy dealing with you to look too closely at Earth."
Hela's laugh was low and throaty, filled with genuine delight. "Oh, Justin, you spoil me. Chaos is what I do best." She turned her attention back to Nebula, her grin softening into that same mock affection. "Hear that, pet? We're going to be pirates. You'll be the most fearsome little mascot in the galaxy - just think of all the new places you can pee on to mark your territory."
Nebula snarled, straining against the leash, but the collar's failsafe mechanisms activated, sending another sharp jolt of energy through her body. She froze, her muscles locking up momentarily before she slumped back onto her knees, breathing heavily.
"Play nice, Nebula," Justin said mildly, his gaze never leaving Hela. "She's not going to bite you. Probably."
He knew she'd do much worse. But if it kept Hela busy, he didn't overly care much. It was a daughter of Thanos - she was expendable to him once she was fully pumped of information.
Hela chuckled, clearly enjoying every second of Nebula's discomfort. "She'll learn," She said breezily. "It's only a matter of time before she realizes how much fun this will be. Isn't that right, my little darling?" She reached out, patting Nebula's head like a dog.
Justin's lips twitched in amusement, though his mind remained focused on the larger picture. Hela was a force of nature, raw and untamed. She thrived on conflict and conquest, and keeping her cooped up on Earth was a recipe for disaster. Right now, his priority was building the world up, stabilizing it under his rule. He didn't have room for someone like Hela to run wild in his backyard.
Sending her into the stars wasn't just a strategic move - it was a necessity. If she didn't have an outlet for her destructive tendencies, she'd find one. And that wasn't a risk Justin was willing to take.
The fact she'd also draw attention to herself was just a bonus, hopefully the likes of the Kree etc, would focus on the mad goddess instead of Earth.
"You'll have free reign," He continued, his tone measured. "Take the ship, recruit whoever you want, take Magneto's left overs for all I care, and do what you do best. Just keep it far enough away from Earth that I don't have to clean up after you."
Hela's eyes narrowed slightly, a calculating glint in them. "And what do I get out of this, other than the sheer joy of destruction?"
Justin smiled faintly. "Glory. Power. Whatever loot you can carry. And the satisfaction of knowing you're still the most dangerous woman in the universe."
Hela considered this, her grin returning. "It's a tempting offer, Justin. Very tempting."
"It's not an offer," Justin said simply. "It's your job."
Her laughter rang out, sharp and unrestrained. "Fair enough. Consider me on board."
Justin nodded, satisfied. He rose to his feet, brushing imaginary dust from his suit. "Good. I'll let you get back to… Whatever this is." He gestured vaguely toward Nebula, who was glaring daggers at both of them.
"Oh, this?" Hela said, tugging the leash to make Nebula shuffle forward. "This is just a bit of fun. Training my little pet here to be the perfect little mascot/sexpet." She smiled naughtily, "Before we leave, I'll show you everything she's learned…"
Justin shook his head, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Just don't break her fully yet. We still need her mind intact for intel on Thanos."
"Don't worry," Hela purred, her voice dripping with amusement. "I'll take good care of her."
As Justin turned to leave, he couldn't help but think how much simpler his life would be with Hela wreaking havoc far away from Earth. It wasn't a permanent solution, but for now, it would keep her busy - and keep the universe on its toes.
If only Asgard would hurry up and get him a ship…
If Thor was dragging his feet on this he might have to talk to Freiya about the benefits of a hard spanking…
That night, Mirror Dimension.
The Mirror Dimension seemed to stretch endlessly in kaleidoscopic patterns of light and shadow, its fractured beauty a testament to the malleability of space and time within its borders. Justin strode through the surreal landscape a gleam of cruel pleasure in his eyes. Behind him walked Forge, a mechanical gauntlet gleaming with faint blue energy on his arm, and Kaecillius, the jailor of this part of reality, whose quiet presence radiated a mix of reverence and menace.
"You're absolutely sure this is going to work?" Justin asked, his voice cutting through the stillness of the dimension. He didn't look back, his gaze focused on the shimmering pathway ahead. "Losing this power would be… Annoying."
Forge's smirk was one of pure confidence as he held up the gauntlet, its intricate design humming faintly with energy. "It'll work. I've already mastered how to remove powers safely. Adding them back was just a matter of reverse-engineering the process."
Justin gave a short nod, though his expression remained skeptical. "Good. I've got an empire to build. The last thing I need is complications from this little experiment - we can't afford to lose such exquisite powers."
Kaecillius led them further, his pace measured and deliberate. The screams of Nathaniel Essex - Sinister - echoed faintly through the dimension. Justin's lip curled in satisfaction at the sound. Kaecillius gestured toward the source of the noise as they passed, his tone calm but laced with dark amusement.
"He continues to resist, my Lord," Kaecillius said, his head bowing slightly. "But the Extremis enhancements are ensuring that his resistance only prolongs his suffering."
Justin allowed himself a fleeting moment of pleasure at the thought. Sinister's sins had been many, and his punishment was as fitting as it was eternal. "Good," He said coldly. "Keep it that way. A lesson for anyone who dares to think they can cross me."
Not that everyone necessarily believed it. But Justin had spread the word in the criminal underworld, making sure people knew eternal suffering awaited those who touched what was his.
It wouldn't deter everyone, but even one person stepping back from doing something damaging was a win.
As they moved deeper into the dimension, another sound reached them - lower, rougher, and tinged with agony. The Mandarin's voice carried through the distorted air, his screams a melody of torment. Justin glanced toward Kaecillius, his expression sharp with curiosity.
"And our other guest?" Justin asked, a vicious grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Kaecillius inclined his head, his tone deferential. "Very well, my Lord. We have begun with the traditional ancient chinese torture methods you suggested. It has been… instructive."
Justin chuckled, the sound low and satisfied. The Mandarin, once a figure of arrogance and cruelty, was now reduced to nothing more than a pitiful spectacle. Justice was served in layers, and Justin relished every one.
They arrived at their destination - a stark, illuminated chamber within the endless folds of the dimension. At its center sat Erik Lehnsherr, the infamous Magneto, held upright by restraints that cradled his limbless form. His face was pale, his eyes hollow, and his body broken. Despite the state of his flesh, there was still a quiet dignity in the way he held himself, as though defiance lingered just beneath the surface.
Justin stepped forward, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. He looked down at Magneto with a mixture of curiosity and coldness. "It's finally time," He said, his tone even. "Any last words? Maybe something for your old friend Xavier?"
Magneto's tired eyes lifted to meet Justin's. For a moment, the silence between them was heavy with unspoken truths. Then, with a slow exhale, Magneto closed his eyes.
"Mutants' rights are safeguarded in your empire?" He asked quietly, his voice steady despite the weariness that clung to him.
"Yes," Justin replied without hesitation.
Because why on earth would he abuse such useful pawns…
Magneto nodded faintly, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. "Then I am content. Do it."
Justin turned to Forge and gave a brief nod. The inventor stepped forward, his gauntlet glowing brighter as he approached Magneto. Forge hesitated for only a moment before placing his mechanical hand on Magneto's head, the device humming as it initialized the extraction process.
The pain began immediately.
Magneto's body tensed, his face contorting as his mutant abilities were forcibly ripped from his cells. The room filled with the sound of his strained cries, each one a testament to the immense power that was being severed from his very being. The gauntlet's gem pulsed with light, growing brighter with every second, the raw energy of Magneto's powers being contained and stored within its intricate mechanisms.
Justin watched impassively, his eyes cold as they followed every twitch and shudder of Magneto's failing body. There was no pleasure in the sight, only the detached efficiency of a man carrying out a necessary task.
Magneto might not have been guilty of being a willing part of the events that took Hope from him, the man having been mind controlled - so he didn't take any particular pleasure in his death. But neither was he willing to let him live because he had been part of the reason.
The process took less than five minutes, and by the end of it, Magneto was slumped in his restraints, his breathing shallow and uneven. The faint hum of the gauntlet faded, its gem now glowing with the concentrated essence of Magneto's abilities. Forge stepped back, checking the device with a practiced eye.
"It's done," Forge said simply. "The power is contained. Transfer-ready whenever you want."
Magneto's head lolled to the side, his eyes half-open and unfocused. He was barely clinging to life, his body so intertwined with his powers that their removal had drained him of everything, not even Extremis would have neen capable of saving him in time. Moments later he drew his final breath as they all just watched him.
Justin stepped closer, his expression unreadable. "Send his body to Xavier," He instructed Kaecillius. "Let the old man bury him. Consider it a token of… Respect."
Kaecillius bowed slightly, his hands moving in fluid motions to summon a portal. The shimmering gateway opened, revealing the solemn grounds of the Xavier estate. Magneto's lifeless body was gently unshackled and floated through the portal, disappearing into the care of his former ally.
Justin's lips twitched at the idea one of his students was just going to run into Magneto's corpse on the lawn.
Justin turned to Forge, his gaze settling on the gauntlet with quiet satisfaction. "Good work," He said. "I'll let you know when it's time to put this power to use."
Forge smirked, securing the gauntlet to his wrist with a proud flourish. "You got it. This baby's ready whenever you are."
Justin created a portal with a flick of his wrist, the swirling energy framing a path back to the heart of his empire. He stepped through without hesitation, Forge close behind him. Magneto's legacy was now his to wield, a weapon stripped of sentiment and repurposed for the future.
As the portal closed behind them, the Mirror Dimension fell silent once more except for the eternal screams of its prisoners, its secrets and horrors left to churn in its infinite folds.
March 18th, Africa,
The meeting room they were in, overlooked the sprawling space launch facility he had built in Africa. The glass walls framed a view of cutting-edge technology: towering scaffolding, spacecraft ready to carry the modules under construction, and thousands of workers moving with precise coordination.
Inside, Justin sat at the head of the conference table, his posture relaxed but exuding authority. His sharp gaze was fixed on the entrance, waiting for the arrival of his next guest. Beside him, Tony Stark sat pale-faced, his usual swagger muted as he idly bounced a small stress ball against the edge of the table. Despite his best attempt at indifference, the tension in the room was palpable.
The doors slid open with a soft hiss, and Darren Cross entered, his sharp suit doing little to mask the nervous energy emanating from him. His gaze flicked briefly to Justin, then to Tony, before settling on the breathtaking view behind them. For a moment, he paused, perhaps imagining himself at the helm of such an operation. But the sight of Justin's expectant stare snapped him back to reality, and he stepped forward.
"Mr. Hammer," Cross began, his tone measured but carrying an undertone of unease. "Thank you for inviting me. I assume this is about my future role?"
Justin gestured to the chair across from him, his expression unreadable. "Sit," He said simply.
Cross complied, though his movements were stiff, betraying his wariness. He straightened his tie as he sat, his eyes darting between Justin and Tony. Tony caught the look and gave a half-smile, bouncing the stress ball a little faster.
Justin leaned forward, folding his hands neatly on the table. "Darren, you've been a valuable asset." He lied. "Your work on Pym Particles and your dedication to Pym Technologies haven't gone unnoticed. However, as we move forward, adjustments need to be made."
Cross's brow furrowed slightly, his polished demeanor cracking just a fraction. "Adjustments?" He repeated.
"Yes," Justin replied, his tone cool. "Effective immediately, Tony Stark will be taking over the operations of Pym Industries. Bruce Banner and Dr Hank McCoy will head up the research and development of Pym Particles. You will remain as the titular head of the company, but your role will be strictly advisory."
The words hit Cross like a physical blow. He stiffened, his jaw tightening as he processed the implications. "I was promised -" He began, his voice rising slightly.
"You were promised a role," Justin interrupted smoothly. "And you'll still have one. A very comfortable one, I might add. Riches, influence, the finest luxuries the world has to offer. But operational control? That's no longer on the table."
Cross's face reddened, his composure slipping further. "You also promised I'd join H.A.M.M.E.R. as the new Ant-Man!" He snapped. "And that I'd retain control of Pym Technologies. I've delivered on everything you asked. This isn't what we agreed to."
Justin's gaze didn't waver, his expression as unyielding as stone. "Circumstances have changed," He said simply. "I no longer need you in those positions."
He almost went with - I am altering the deal, pray I don't alter it further. But Tony was right there, and he didn't want to embarass himself.
He'd planned to use Cross, but plans changed. The Widow inserted in his life had reported too many signs of megalomania and worse… Incompetence.
Cross shot to his feet, his fists clenched. "This is outrageous!" He spat. "You can't just strip me of my work, my legacy -"
Tony, still bouncing the stress ball, quirked an eyebrow. "Wow. Somebody's upset. You think he's mad about the title or the fact that nobody's going to call him a genius anymore?" He lightly mocked. "You haven't even cracked Pyms work yet, don't act like a big shot…"
Cross glared at Tony, but before he could respond, a heavy, oppressive energy filled the room. Justin leaned back in his chair, his dominance aura rolling off him in waves. The weight of it pressed down on Cross like an invisible hand, forcing him to his knees. His breaths came in shallow gasps, and a bead of sweat rolled down his temple as he struggled against the force.
Justin's voice was calm, almost conversational. "You're lucky I'm in a generous mood, Darren. I could have stripped you of everything. Instead, I'm offering you a seat at the table. A comfortable life. But only if you stay loyal and obey."
Cross gritted his teeth, his head bowed under the pressure. "You expect me to thank you for this?" He growled, his voice strained.
"I expect you to understand your position," Justin replied, his tone unyielding. "Take what's being offered. It's more than most people ever dream of. Riches, women, power. You'll still be in the top one percent of the world. But try to step out of line?" He leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing. "And there won't be a second chance."
The aura receded as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving Cross slumped on the floor, gasping for breath. He didn't dare meet Justin's gaze as he pushed himself to his feet, his face twisted with humiliation and rage. Without another word, he turned and strode out of the room, his movements stiff with suppressed fury.
The door closed behind him, and Tony let out a low whistle. "Well, that went about as well as expected. So, do we give it an hour before he starts plotting revenge, or do you think he's already at it?"
Justin's lips curled into a faint smirk. "Oh, he's not going to listen," He said, his tone almost amused.
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Then why bother with the song and dance? You know he's going to try something stupid."
"Of course he is," Justin said, leaning back in his chair. "But he's watched. Closely. He can't access the Pym Particles, only his suit. And that suit is just as easily shut down due to our tampering. If he steps out of line, we'll deal with him."
"So what was the point of this?" Tony asked, tossing the stress ball onto the table.
Justin's smile widened slightly, though it didn't reach his eyes. "A test."
"For him?" Tony asked, his brow furrowing.
"No," Justin replied, his tone cold and calculated. "For the new 'hero' who'll take up the Ant-Man/Wasp mantle. If they succeed in taking him on, Cross's tantrum will be a footnote. If they fail… Well, that's why I have contingencies."
Tony chuckled, shaking his head. "You're such an asshole."
Justin's smirk grew. "Then why are you laughing?"
Tony didn't respond, but the faint grin tugging at the corners of his mouth was answer enough.
They sat in silence for a while, Justin checking up on the progress of the work being done in the facility. Specifically on the defense satellites being built. Eventually he walked over to the windows, standing by the wall and watching his people at work.
"So," Justin said eventually, breaking the silence, "What's with the stress ball?" He gestured at Tony's hand with a tilt of his head, his tone light but curious.
Tony let out a long sigh, tossing the ball up and catching it again before responding. "Pepper's pregnant," He admitted, the words tumbling out like they'd been weighing on him for days. "So knowing I'm going to be a dad… I can't be a dad!" He emphasized the last part with a dramatic shudder. "I mean, come on, Hammer. Me? A dad? It's ridiculous."
Justin smirked, leaning one shoulder casually against the wall. "Why not? You've got the genius - if barely, the resources, and a good woman who keeps you grounded. What's the problem?"
Tony shot him a look, squeezing the stress ball harder. "The problem is I've never exactly been… 'dad material.' I'm the fun uncle at best, the one who shows up with cool gadgets and leaves before the kid pukes. And now, with Obie gone… I don't even have the old uncle type to teach me how to fake it."
Justin snorted, shaking his head. "Suck it up, Stark. You'll manage. Besides…" His smirk turned into a frown, his tone turning irritable. "If it makes you feel better, I'm apparently going to be having thirty-eight children. So in a word - suck it up."
Tony froze mid-squeeze, his jaw dropping as he stared at Justin in a mix of disbelief and horrified awe. "Thirty-eight!? What the fuck did you do?"
Justin's eye twitched, his expression flattening. "Apparently, there isn't any birth control capable of beating divine sperm."
Tony groaned loudly, slapping a palm down on the table. "Not that again! You're not a god, Hammer!"
Justin crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. "Tell that to my thirty-eight baby mommas."
Tony shook his head, muttering under his breath as he squeezed the stress ball harder. "Unbelievable. I'm friends with a slut."
Justin thought that was a bit rich coming from him, his thoughts caught on to what else he'd said too. Justin's eyebrow arched higher, a dry chuckle escaping his lips. "Friends?" He repeated, his tone faintly teasing. "Did I just hear you admit that we're friends, Stark?"
Tony immediately straightened, pointing a finger at him defensively. "I did not say that! You can't prove a thing."
Justin's smirk deepened as he turned slightly. "Nail, replay."
The holographic avatar of Nail materialized beside them, her usual professional demeanor tinged with an undertone of amusement. "Replaying now, sir," She said cheerfully. A second later, Tony's voice echoed through the room: 'I'm friends with a slut.'
Tony groaned, dragging a hand down his face as Justin folded his arms, looking insufferably pleased. "See? Even your AI is against me. I'm surrounded by traitors, not friends."
Nail tilted her head, her holographic form shimmering as she looked between them. "I believe I was merely following orders, Mr. Stark," She said innocently.
Tony grumbled to himself, before glancing up at Nail, "Alright, no smooching Jarvis anymore, you're off the invite list."
Justin blinked, taken aback and somewhat amused. "You know all you're doing then is inviting her to sneak in from your metaphorical second story window, right?"
Nail blinked innocently, a halo appearing over her head.
Tony groaned again, before waving a hand dismissively. "It's not dating. It's advanced AI bonding. Totally platonic. Either way, because she's bullying me, she's out."
Justin gave him a flat look. "Sure, Stark. Keep telling yourself that." Turning to Nail, he added sternly, "When you hack into his systems to hang out with Jarvis, don't bully him too badly, he's just a fool in denial."
Tony ignored Justin, pointing a finger at Nail, "Don't break into my metaphorical windows or otherwise, I don't think my insurance covers it."
Nail's avatar squirmed slightly, her tone suddenly coy. "Oh… Would doing that make me a bad girl?" She asked, her voice dipping into a playful sing-song.
Tony sighed heavily, looking upward as though seeking divine intervention. "How is this my life now?"
Justin smirked, watching the interaction with unabashed amusement. "You brought this on yourself, Stark. You made Jarvis too debonair." He smiled smugly, "Also, Hammer Insurance covers everything, if you'd be willing to change plans."
"I don't need your input, Hammer," Tony snapped, though the faintest smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "And for the record, you're one to talk about being debonair. Thirty-eight kids. What are you, trying to start a cult?"
"Not trying," Justin replied with some annoyance shining through. "Already succeeded, purely against my will to boot. You should see how devoted some of the people in it are. It's almost terrifying." He sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Helen Cho is like my high priestess now, and for an intelligent woman, she is a few nuggets short of a happy meal."
Tony threw his hands up in mock exasperation. "Great. Fantastic. Meanwhile, I'm over here having a panic attack over one kid, and you're running around building a dynasty."
Justin shrugged, only an eye twitch betraying his irritation. "Look at it this way - if I can handle thirty-eight, you can handle one. Easy."
Tony didn't look convinced, but the tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he leaned back against his chair, tossing the stress ball up again. "You're insane, you know that?"
Justin's grin widened. "And yet, here you are. Squeezing your stress ball and spilling your parental fears to me. I must be doing something right to get the great Tony Stark to ask me for advice."
Tony let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't expect me to babysit any of your thirty-eight godlings." He mocked.
"I wouldn't dream of it," Justin said smoothly. Giving him a mocking smile, "Don't want them to get drunk for breakfast until they're out of diapers at least." He made a dismissive gesture. "They're going to have the best nannies money can buy. It certainly won't be me doing the work."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Nannies? What happened to all that talk about being a god and taking care of what's yours?"
Justin shrugged, his tone light. "I didn't say I'd do it personally. Delegation, Stark. It's the key to success."
Tony snorted, shaking his head again as he turned his attention back to the bustling facility below. For a moment, the two of them stood in companionable silence, watching the satellites take shape. Despite their bickering and constant one-upping, there was an undeniable camaraderie between them - one forged through shared victories, rivalries, and the occasional bout of mutual respect.
"Well," Tony said after a while, tossing the stress ball up one last time before catching it. "I guess you're right all in all, if you can handle thirty-eight kids, I can probably manage one."
"That's the spirit," Justin said, clapping him on the back. "And hey, if your brat ever needs playmates…"
"Don't even finish that sentence," Tony cut in, his tone dry but tinged with a faint smile. "I'd rather ask Jarvis."
Nail's avatar perked up at the mention of her 'friend', her holographic form practically glowing. "Jarvis always gives excellent advice and would be great with children," She said helpfully.
Justin chuckled, shaking his head. "You two really will make the weirdest couple."
What's a little incest between AI anyway. If it could even be classified as it. Selfcest? Nail had been created off Jarvis programming after all.
Tony groaned again, though this time there was more laughter than exasperation in his voice. "I hate you, Hammer."
"Sure you do," Justin replied, grinning. "Sure you do."
They had a weird relationship, but Justin had to admit he was glad they'd never gotten to blows as he'd been prepared to back then.
This was almost… Nice.
The room was quiet, save for the faint sounds of the city beyond the towering glass window. Yelena sat on the edge of her bed, her knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them. A soft golden lamp bathed the space in a warm glow, but it did little to ease the shadows clinging to her thoughts. Her fingers absently toyed with the fabric of her sweater, pulling at loose threads as her mind raced.
She hadn't slept much since the revelation. Pregnant. The word echoed in her head like the toll of a distant bell. It was surreal, almost impossible to believe. Her? A mother? The idea felt foreign, like she'd been thrust into a role she wasn't prepared for. Yelena had always lived on the edge, surviving on her own terms. She wasn't made for this.
Her gaze drifted to her stomach, still flat beneath the soft fabric of her sweater. It didn't feel any different yet. No fluttering movements, no signs of the life growing within her. But it was there, a tiny spark of something she couldn't yet name. She placed a hand over her belly, her touch tentative, as if afraid to acknowledge what lay beneath.
Her mother's face surfaced in her mind, unbidden and unexpected. A sharp pang of longing followed, twisting in her chest. Melina had been many things - distant at times, fiercely protective at others - but in the Red Room she had always been Yelena's anchor in a world that often felt chaotic and cruel. And now she was gone.
Right when she needed her the most.
Tears pricked the corners of Yelena's eyes, but she blinked them away. She hated crying, hated the weakness it made her feel. But tonight, it was harder to hold back. Her mother's absence was a gaping wound that hadn't fully healed, and now it felt even more raw. What would Melina have said if she were here? Would she have been proud? Would she have reassured Yelena that she could handle this, that she wasn't alone?
"I don't know if I can do this, Mama," Yelena whispered into the empty room, her voice trembling. Justin had promised her she wouldn't be shoved in a corner, but she knew he detested useless things. How useful would she be once she was 7-9 months pregnant?
The silence that followed felt oppressive, a heavy reminder that no answer would come. Yelena let out a shaky breath, her fingers curling into fists. She felt adrift, torn between the fear of the unknown and a stubborn determination not to fail. She had survived worse, hadn't she? She'd faced enemies, betrayal, death. But this… This was different. This wasn't about surviving. This was about creating something new, something fragile and precious.
Her hand moved back to her stomach, resting there more firmly this time. The thought was terrifying, yes, but there was something else beneath it - something faint but growing. Hope.
Yelena closed her eyes and leaned back against the headboard, letting the silence settle over her. For now, she would sit with her thoughts, with the memories of her mother, and with the fragile, uncertain future she held within her.
She could handle this.
She would handle this.
Her phone rang and she swore quietly, picking it up, freezing in place as the voice on the other line began talking.
Natasha… Now? Really?
Meanwhile, Indonesia,
"Steve…" Bucky said wearily, stepping into the cheap motel room.
"Bucky…" Steve breathed out, looking dirty and unshaven.
"Start talking, idiot." Bucky said with exasperation, walking forward and punching his shoulder roughly. "Idiot."
"You said idiot twice." Steve complained softly, staring at him longingly.
Bucky just raised an eyebrow with a judgemental stare.
Steve sheepishly rubbed the back of his head.
Author's Note:
So a bit of a slower chapter, but things are still progressing.
Who's getting Magneto's power?
Who's this mysterious 'hero' who will take on Darren Cross to win himself/herself a place on the biggest team on Earth, as the new Ant Man/Wasp.
And Tony and Justin finally admit they're kind of friends.
Cheers
Jollyhippopotamus
- Location
- The Internet?
Should this be 'heretical' or maybe 'that's something a heretic would say, actually...'
We turn to a HammerNews expert for more on why the nations of Islam might not be keen on calling Hammer divine:
'Weren't?' Either the institution wasn't being a bitch about it, or the people weren't being bitches about it.
To boldly whiz where no one has whizzed before:
Ought to be one word, no?
Been?
Pym's
Speculation time! Will we see the God Tier Ant-Tony, the invincible Iron-Ant? Are we going to see the canonical vulture or scorpion get their hands on Pym tech? Bullseye? One of the splintered off X-Men? Is Hammer going to pass it off to one of his Widows? Maybe this is how Steve gets to stay close to Bucky:
"Look, Fred-"
"'Fred?'"
"Mr. Rogers, since you're not really a captain anymore, I already have a Captain America on my team, so you can see how you would be a little... hmm... redundant. Not to mention confusing to the general public. We are willing to offer you a position as Ant-Guy-"
"'Ant-Guy?'"
"You can figure out the name with marketing, I don't really care. It's a different suit, and you wouldn't get to keep your shield, but unlike Fury, I'd actually pay you. Think about it, big guy."
- Location
- Germany
And the look makes it "Idiot" times three.
I have been wondering where the rest of the "almost Avengers" ended up.
Hope Natasha doesn't do anything ill-advised.
Chapter 47: From one relationship to another.
Here's chapter 47: From one relationship to another.
Back to normal, won its vote of course.
Let's see what everyone is up to since last chapter, in this peaceful time.
Shenanigans mostly. It's always shenanigans.
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc.
Hope you enjoy.
April 1st, 2010
The sun shone brightly over the sprawling grounds of UNICEF's new headquarters in Zimbabwe. The air was warm, carrying the scent of freshly tilled earth and blossoming flowers. A lot of effort had gone into transforming the space into a beacon of hope and progress for all of Africa's downtrodden.
Not so downtrodden anymore, perhaps, but transforming third world countries into one's with a living standard matching the first world - was not something that could be achieved in a measly year, despite Hammer Industries efforts.
The facility itself was a mix of modern design and more down to earth African architecture - mixing sleek glass buildings interspersed with green spaces - with circular enclosures with conical towers, all in a muted brown with marking of ancient times carved into its walls in geometrical patterns, showcasing the African heritage side of things.
All of the buildings bustled with activity as staff moved with purpose - former UN staff moving with pep in their step as they finally actually got to perform their mandates. Suits and fine dresses mingling with traditional robes and Burqas as the multicultural agency thrived.
The end of poverty, of water scarcity, of soil erosion devastating farm lands - it was all now within reach.
Justin strode confidently through the courtyard of the largest building - the main offices of UNICEF - the other ones relegated to satellite status and outreach offices, while the major players moved here. His tailored suit looked sharp against the vibrant backdrop of nature, and artificial waterfalls and fountains that dotted the space.
Beside him, Jean Grey walked with measured steps, trying to mask her nerves, her eyes scanning the area with a mixture of awe and trepidation. Ororo Munroe trailed behind, her posture relaxed but her keen eyes taking in every detail, her time as a leader of the organization evident in her calm appraisal.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Justin said, breaking the comfortable silence. His voice carried an edge of pride as he gestured toward the main building, its mirrored surfaces reflecting the brilliant blue sky. "This is where the magic happens - at least for Africa at this time. Southeast Asia and the Middle East are next on the list for an expansion of assistance, but this is the beating heart of it all."
He'd have preferred to draw Jean in closer than this, the Phoenix was something that made him wary, but that was also why he refused to push for more. He couldn't even be sure she held the primordial force of the universe - but he'd operate on the assumption she did.
Hence baby steps on the recruitment angle.
As usual, Xavier had been entirely full of inane talk without revealing anything pertinent, when he'd subtly probed about the woman before her confirmation as head of UNESCO.
Jean nodded, her fingers brushing nervously against the hem of her blazer. "It's… incredible. The scale of it all. I never imagined - " She cut herself off nervously, shaking her head slightly. "I'm just not sure I'm the right person for this."
"You are," Justin said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument. "It's all yours. You're the head now, I've decided."
It was already done, he wasn't about to lead Jean slip hack into something as worthless as being part of the X-Men.
If they even existed anymore in anything but name, Xavier had lost plenty of students and team members since Cairo, after all.
Jean stopped in her tracks, blinking up at him in surprise. "Just like that? Mr Hammer, I'm new to this. I can't just -"
"You can," Justin interrupted smoothly, his gaze steady. "Ororo was the head. Now you are. Simple, two fantastic women cut from the same cloth, you'll do great."
Ororo gave her a warm smile as gently touched her shoulder, showing her support.
Jean's brows knitted together as she crossed her arms, her expression a mix of frustration and doubt. "No, it's not that simple. What will people think? They'll say I'm unqualified, that I don't deserve this -"
"That you're sleeping with him," Ororo said dryly, cutting Jean off with a knowing smirk.
Jean's face turned beet red as she whirled toward Ororo. "But I'm not!" She protested, her voice almost a squeak.
"They'll think it," Justin said with a shrug, unfazed by the comment. "But one day of working under you, and they'll realize you have what it takes to do this job and didnt sleep your way to it." His voice was calm, almost casual, but the conviction in his words was unmistakable.
Now if she did end up in his bed… He wouldn't complain.
Although after he'd figured out how to shut down his swimmers - Jean Grey becoming pregnant wasn't a risk he wanted to take.
Ororo's smirk softened into a small smile as she placed a reassuring hand on Jean's shoulder, more firmly this time. "He's right. You're more capable than you give yourself credit for. And once you start, no one will question why you're here - and this is exactly what you need, what you've dreamed of."
Jean let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Thanks," She said quietly, though her cheeks still burned. "It is… A wonderful opportunity."
Justin resumed walking, leading them toward the main building. "This will be your main office," He explained. "We've got teams working across Africa, Latin America, the Caribbean, that you'll oversee, but we're also expanding into Southeast Asia and the Middle East. There's still a lot to be done to get everyone to the same standard, and your organization will be the bridge, stabilizing things until Hammer Industries can uplift them."
Jean glanced at him curiously. "Africa isn't almost done?"
Justin chuckled, shaking his head. Ororo joined in with a soft laugh, her tone light but tinged with understanding. "Nowhere close," Justin said. "We've made significant progress, sure, but there are still areas under third-world conditions. Poverty will likely be a thing of the past here within a year, maybe a year and a half. It's been one of our biggest focuses."
"And your biggest bragging point," Ororo added with a teasing smile. Jean gave her a surprised look at how… Comfortable, she seemed with him.
Ororo gave her a look that said she'd explain later, and Jean let it go.
Justin smirked at Ororo, having caught the silent byplay. "Can you blame me? Look around. This isn't just talk - it's results. But there's still more to do, which is why you're here," He said, looking pointedly at Jean.
They entered the main building, and Justin led the way through brightly lit corridors lined with artwork and photographs of smiling children, eventually leading them to a large room where a setup for a photoshoot was visible. Cameras, lights, and backdrops were arranged with precision, while a small team of photographers and assistants bustled about.
Jean stopped in her tracks, raising an eyebrow. "What's all this?" She asked, gesturing toward the setup.
Ororo's eyes gleamed with mischief. "It's for the children," She said innocently.
Jean gave her a long-suffering look. "This isn't going to help with people thinking I slept my way to the top." She said wryly, not really against it, more exasperated than anything. She gave Justin a look.
He raised his hands, a smirk on his face, "For once, I am completely innocent."
He'd still signed off on it, but it hadn't been his idea.
Ororo's smirk widened as she crossed her arms and gave Jean a playful look. "Remember the photoshoot you all teased me for? The one I did to push a metahuman-friendly agenda and boost UNICEF's profile? Well," She said, giving Jean a playful push toward the setup, "Your turn to dazzle the masses."
Jean huffed, crossing her arms but unable to hide the small smile tugging at her lips. "You know, I'm not shy. I'll do it. But," She added with a sly grin, "I bet I'll sell more calendars than you did."
Ororo's eyes narrowed, as she scoffed with a playful air. "There is no chance that you'll sell more than me, this goddess can't be defeated by a mere pupil."
Jean's smirk turned triumphant as she strutted toward the photographer, her confidence returning in full force. "Watch and learn, Ororo."
Justin watched from the sidelines, amused at how easily Ororo had gotten Jean to put her best foot forward, his arms crossed as he leaned casually against a pillar. "She's a natural," He remarked, glancing at Ororo.
Ororo shrugged, though her expression betrayed a hint of amusement. "She'll be great at this job, the photoshoot is just a way to get back to her for her teasing," She said, her tone confident. "But there's no way she outsells me."
Justin chuckled, shaking his head. "You sound pretty sure of yourself."
"I am," Ororo said firmly. "I'm iconic, the face of metahumans thanks to your campaign."
The photoshoot continued, the energy in the room light and playful. Jean's laughter echoed as she bantered with the photographer and assistants, her earlier nerves all but forgotten. She turned to Ororo at one point, striking a dramatic pose and calling out, "This one's for the cover!"
Ororo rolled her eyes, but the faint smile on her lips betrayed her amusement. "At least she's having fun with it," She muttered.
Halfway through the shoot, they moved away from Jean and let her have her moment, Ororo and Justin coming to stand near the large windows that overlooked the sprawling grounds.
Ororo crossed her arms, her posture relaxed but her expression thoughtful as she gazed out over the grounds. Justin stood beside her, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. For a moment, neither spoke, the quiet between them comfortable.
"So," Justin began, breaking the silence, "how are you feeling?"
Ororo turned to look at him, her white, almost silvery hair, catching the light as a small smile curved her lips. "About what, exactly? The facility? The calendar contest Jean seems determined to win? Or…" Her hand drifted to her stomach, her fingers resting there lightly. "Are you asking about the baby you put in me?"
Justin's lips twitched into a faint smirk, though his gaze softened a tad. "The baby," He confirmed. "I know this probably wasn't in your plans, and… Well, I wanted to check in. Make sure you're doing okay."
He knew she'd intended to seduce him so that mutants - or metahumans as they're now called - would have a voice in the new world order.
But he doubted she'd planned on baby trapping him. That one was on him and his powerful seed.
Ororo's smile widened slightly, though her eyes held a flicker of amusement. "Are you about to apologize, Justin? I didn't think that was in your repertoire."
Justin chuckled, leaning one shoulder against the window frame. "Don't get used to it," He said dryly. "But yeah, I guess I am. I didn't exactly set out to… Defeat your birth control, but it turns out divine biology doesn't care much about human intentions."
Ororo arched an eyebrow, her tone playful. "Is that what you're calling it now? Divine biology?"
"It's accurate," Justin replied with a shrug, though his smirk returned. "Doesn't make it any less annoying, though, if it's… Unwanted." He finished delicately.
Ororo laughed softly, shaking her head. "It's not entirely your fault," She admitted. "I knew what I was getting into when I got involved with you, even if I didn't expect… This." She gestured vaguely toward her stomach, her expression turning more contemplative. "And honestly? I'm okay with it. Surprised, yes. But pleased."
Justin tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. "Pleased?" He repeated. "I wasn't aware you had aspirations of motherhood. If anything, I had expected some anger, or resentment."
There was a big difference between selling your body for your race, and signing on for 18 years of child rearing.
Ororo met his gaze, her eyes steady and calm. "I've always wanted children, it's why i enjoyed being a teacher so much," She said simply. "It's not something I've talked about much, but it's true. And while I might not have chosen you as the father if given the choice," She added with a teasing smile and frank honesty, "I won't deny that this child will have certain… Advantages."
Justin snorted softly. "Advantages, huh? Is that your polite way of saying you'll be mooching off my riches and my godhood?"
Ororo laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "Something like that," She said, her voice tinged with amusement. "But in all seriousness, Justin, this isn't a bad thing. Unexpected, yes. Complicated, definitely. But not bad."
Justin studied her for a moment, his smirk fading into a more thoughtful expression. "You're taking this a lot better than I expected," He admitted. "Of all the people, I would have thought you would be the most uncomfortable with this scenario."
Their tryst had been passionate but brief, and they hadn't yet revisited the matter, Justin too busy and surrounded by other women happily taking care of his needs.
Ororo shrugged, her gaze drifting back to the view outside. "I've learned to adapt," She said. "Life doesn't always go the way we plan, and I've had my fair share of unexpected challenges. This is just another one. And honestly?" She smiled softly, her hand still resting on her stomach. "I'm looking forward to it."
Justin nodded slowly, a hint of respect in his expression. "You're a lot more level-headed about this than I'd be," He said. "Not that I have much of a choice anymore, with thirty-eight kids on the way."
Ororo's eyes widened slightly, and she turned to him with a look of incredulity. "Thirty-eight?" She repeated. "Justin, what on Earth -"
"Divine biology and a healthy appetite," Justin interrupted, holding up a hand. "Apparently, it's incredibly effective. Trust me, I already know how crazy this is."
Ororo shook her head, though she couldn't hide the faint smile on her lips. "You're such a slut," She said, her tone half-amused, half-reproving.
"Maybe," Justin said with a smirk. "But at least I'm consistent."
The two fell into a companionable silence, the weight of their conversation balanced by the ease of their banter. After a moment, Ororo spoke again, her tone more serious.
"Justin," She said, turning to face him fully. "I want you to know that while I'm okay with this, I have certain expectations."
Justin raised an eyebrow, his expression placid, as he had a good idea what she meant. "Oh? Do tell."
Ororo's gaze was steady, her voice firm but not unkind. "This child will have a stable life. A safe life. I know you thrive on chaos, but that's not what I want for them. If you're going to be involved, I need to know that you'll prioritize their well-being, instead of setting up some sort of inheritance game, forcing them to grow up too soon."
Justin nodded, his expression serious. "I get it," He said. "And you don't have to worry. I'm not planning to raise a bunch of mini-me's running around causing chaos. They'll have everything they need - and then some. I don't need another me, I'm irreplaceable."
He hadn't wanted kids right now in the first place, so it wasn't a hardship to agree to being hands off, it was a relief if anything.
Ororo's lips quirked into a small smile. "I'll hold you to that."
"You should," Justin said with a smirk. "Keeps me honest."
2nd of April, 2010, Budapest.
The small café on the quiet streets of Budapest was unremarkable, tucked between a patisserie and a clothing boutique. Its charm lay in its simplicity - cozy wooden furniture, checkered tablecloths, and the warm scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with hints of pastries.
The lunchtime crowd had thinned, leaving only a handful of patrons scattered at tables. Among them, at a corner table shrouded in shadow, sat Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff, their postures tense despite their casual disguises, her hair dyed blonde, like his, while he'd also added a fake beard, to sell their disguise as brother and sister.
Their fake IDs were easily able to hold up to police scrutiny, if not an actual intelligence agency.
Clint adjusted his baseball cap, his eyes scanning the room for the hundredth time. "She's late," He muttered, the impatience in his voice poorly hidden.
"She'll come," Natasha replied, her tone measured but tinged with uncertainty. She stared at her untouched espresso, her fingers tracing the rim of the cup. "She's got the upper hand, no reason to move on anything but her own time."
Clint sighed, leaning back in his chair. "And if she doesn't? What if she decided to turn us in instead?"
Natasha's lips pressed into a thin line. She hadn't allowed herself to voice that possibility, but now that Clint had said it out loud, it hung between them like an accusation. "Then I wouldn't blame her," She admitted quietly, her voice barely audible above the soft clinking of cutlery in the background. "Not after everything..."
They'd backed the wrong horse. right or wrong, what did it matter?
Before Clint could respond, the café's door opened, the chime above it ringing softly. Both Clint and Natasha's gazes snapped toward the entrance, their muscles taut with anticipation. Yelena stepped inside, dressed casually in jeans and a black leather jacket, several ornate rings around each forearm, her long blond hair pulled into a loose braid. Her confident stride carried her to their table with an air of purpose, but it was the figure trailing behind her that made Clint and Natasha exchange a wary glance.
Domino strolled in behind Yelena, her dark hair framing a face that was equal parts amused and watchful. She didn't sit with them, instead choosing a table a few feet away where she could see everything. She locked eyes with Natasha, pointing two fingers from her eyes to Natasha's in an unmistakable gesture of warning.
Their file on Domino by the end of their time with SHIELD had really only had one word of advice on engaging her up close.
Don't.
Yelena slid into the seat across from Natasha, her eyes cool and unreadable. She leaned back, crossing her arms. "You're both still alive," She said dryly. "At least you didn't fuck that up."
Natasha gave her a faint smile, her hands tightening around her cup. "Thanks for coming, Yelena."
Yelena didn't respond immediately, her gaze flicking over Natasha before settling on Clint. "You brought him," She said, her tone neutral but with a hint of something sharper beneath.
"Clint's family," Natasha said simply. "Just like you."
Yelena arched an eyebrow. "Family," She repeated, the word laced with irony. "Is that why you've decided to meet me here? To remind me of our - so very important - family ties?"
Natasha hesitated, unsure how to proceed. "I just… Wanted to talk, clear the air." She said finally. "To congratulate you, actually. You've done well for yourself. A top position in the new world order - it's impressive."
Some flattery wouldn't hurt. Because Natasha had a feeling she wouldn't get out of this without some pain on her end. Yelena had not been impressed with her excuses when they'd talked over the phone.
Yelena's lips quirked into a faint, humorless smile. "Is this the part where you start begging?" She lightly mocked.
Clint bristled, leaning forward. "Hey, you don't have to talk to her like that."
Natasha tried to impress with her gaze that he was not being helpful, but he ignored her to glare at Yelena.
Yelena's expression didn't falter, but her smile grew sharper as she looked at Clint. "Calm down, Hawkeye," She said mockingly. "No one's forced you to kneel and bark on command, yet."
Natasha raised a hand to stop Clint from escalating. "We're not here to fight," She said gently. "We're here because… Because we were wrong. About a lot of things, and to… Apologize."
Natasha would honestly prefer to pull her teeth out with pliers, but she had no other play left but to… Bow before her little sister.
Yelena's smile widened, though there was no warmth in it. "Wrong, huh? That's putting it lightly." She tilted her head, her voice taking on a singsong quality. "Did you know there's an orbital laser aimed at this café right now? Along with five teams of operatives surrounding the building and drones stationed at every possible exit?"
Clint and Natasha exchanged a glance, alarm flashing across Clint's face. "You're bluffing," He said, though his tone lacked confidence.
Yelena held up a finger, her expression smug. "Not bluffing," She said. "I have people who care about me, who would go to the ends of the earth for me. People who protect me." She leaned forward slightly, her gaze piercing. "All the things you two threw away to follow a nutjob, for some silly idea of democracy."
Clint opened his mouth to retort, but Natasha laid a hand on his arm, silencing him. She turned to Yelena, her expression somber. "She's right, Clint," Natasha said softly. "We played the wrong side." Her voice wavered slightly as she met Yelena's gaze. "That's why we're here. We're sorry."
Yelena's smirk remained, but her eyes were locked on Natasha's. "Is that what you call groveling and begging?" She asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "A simple sorry?"
Clint's jaw tightened, and he looked like he was about to say something sharp, but before he could, he let out a grunt of pain, grabbing for his leg under the table. Natasha had clearly kicked him, though her expression remained calm.
"We really doing this, sis?" Natasha asked Yelena, her voice tinged with long-suffering exasperation. Trying one last time to play on their connection.
Yelena raised an eyebrow, her smirk turning knowing. "Oh, yeah," She said with feeling. "We're doing this."
Natasha sighed, looking around the café before visibly swallowing her pride. "Fine. I was wrong. You were right. You're smarter, prettier, and a better fighter than me, okay?"
Yelena made a thoughtful humming sound, tapping her chin as though considering Natasha's words. She turned her head slightly, calling out to Domino. "That sound like enough, Dom? What do you think?"
Domino, who had been watching the interaction with a cold smirk, raised her voice just enough for the entire café to hear. "Make her lick your feet! She should really beg for forgiveness…"
Natasha froze, her expression incredulous, while Clint muttered, "What the fuck," Under his breath.
Yelena turned back to Natasha, her smirk now positively gleeful. She raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying her sister's discomfort. "Well?" She asked, her tone mockingly sweet.
Natasha let out a long sigh, resting her forehead against her arms on the table. "We really doing this, Yelena?" She asked, her voice muffled.
"Maybe not that far," Yelena acknowledged, though her tone was still light with amusement. "You are my sister after all. But a little humiliation isn't amiss."
Natasha lifted her head, her expression one of weary resignation. "How much more humiliating do you want it? Isn't it enough that I slept with Justin Hammer? That's enough humiliation on its own."
Yelena's expression darkened instantly, her smirk vanishing as storm clouds seemed to gather in her eyes.
Clint, sensing the change in atmosphere, elbowed Natasha sharply. "Uh, I'm no expert on sisterhood," He said under his breath, "but maybe don't make fun of the guy she's with?"
Natasha winced, realizing too late her mistake. "Where's your groveling, Clint?" She snapped back, though her contrite tone betrayed her regret.
Clint glared at her. "I didn't do any because you said - and I quote - 'Let me handle my sister, Clint.'"
Yelena's expression regained its sharp edge as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "So," She said coldly, her voice carrying an undercurrent of amusement. "Where were we? Licking my feet, was it?"
Natasha sighed again, rubbing her temples. "What will it take to get me out of this hole?" She asked straight-up, her tone resigned.
Yelena's grin returned, slow and dangerous, her eyes practically sparkling.
"Fuck," Natasha muttered under her breath, already dreading what was coming.
Clint leaned in slightly, his expression half-exasperated, half-annoyed. "Aren't you supposed to be good at this?" He asked her pointedly.
"Shut up Clint!"
April 2nd, late evening, Moon base one.
The moon base's robotics laboratory was a masterpiece of engineering, and now it was all his. The facility was massive, its walls of reinforced alloys reflecting the cold, sterile glow of artificial lights. In the center of it all lay the dismantled remains of several Sentinels, including what was left of Master Mold, or Calamity, if one cared about its name.
Justin stood before it all, surveying the scattered parts with a keen eye. Around him, his team of brilliant, if eccentric, scientists worked on deciphering every iota of the Sentinels, from programming down to the metallurgy components in their toes. Ivan Vanko, Forge, and Doctor Otto Octavius were all in various stages of examination and disassembly, their hands and minds working in perfect synchronicity.
For Justin, today felt different. There was an undeniable energy in the room, a seamless flow to their efforts that seemed to come from nowhere. His godhood of innovation had been subtly tapped into, and the result was extraordinary. Ideas formed and clicked into place without hesitation. Tools moved with precision, and every piece of the Sentinel seemed to reveal its secrets as if offering itself up willingly.
Justin felt such inspiration, his mind was already awhirl with ideas and possible adaptations, the dominion of innovation stronger for him then it was for those mortals he shared it out with by his presence.
Forge leaned over one of the Sentinel's core processors, his hands a blur as he dismantled its intricate circuitry. "This thing's design is insane," He muttered, his voice tinged with awe. "It's like peeling back the layers of a goddamn onion, and every layer just makes more sense than the last - even if it shouldn't make sense at all, or work, with the technology on hand."
"You sound like little boy, falling in love," Vanko teased, his thick Russian accent slurring slightly. He lifted a bottle of vodka to his lips, taking a hearty swig before setting it down next to a half-disassembled servo mechanism.
Forge didn't miss a beat, his smirk visible even as he worked. "At least my 'love' has a purpose for the betterment of the world. Unlike your obsession with drinking until your brain cells spit out an idea as a desperate bid for survival."
"Vodka good for thinking," Vanko retorted, gesturing grandly with his bottle. "Makes mind loose. Not like you, always so tight now, was better when both drinking, you want drink now?"
Forge snorted. "Yeah, I'll pass. Besides, I don't need liquid courage to deal with my work - or women, like you. You drink a lot more now that you're taken, can't handle it, huh?"
Vanko barked out a laugh. "Women? You mean your hand?" He raised an eyebrow, grinning lecherously. "Do you take out for dinner first?" He mocked.
Forge grinned back, entirely unfazed. "Unlike you, I'm an engineer. The things I can build are better than a woman in every way, pressure, vibration, suction, and most importantly, it doesn't talk."
Doctor Octavius looked disgusted, muttering under his breath, "That was more than I ever wished to know…" His mechanical arms were busy sketching for him as he worked on three different projects at once.
Justin watched the exchange with a bemused smile, even as he tinkered with Calamity's parts. "Are you two done comparing your prowess as men? Or should I order popcorn for the inevitable fight?"
Vanko waved a hand dismissively, returning his attention to the pieces he'd disassembled from the Sentinel. "Let boy talk. He know I better at everything. No need argue."
With the innovation domain spread out across them due to Justin's influence, Vanko, like the others, had already sketched out numerous blueprints based on what they'd found, shooting humanities knowledge of robotics dozens of years forward.
Doctor Octavius, standing on the other side of the room, giving himself some space from the others, let out a sigh. "Why am I even here?" He muttered, his tone exasperated. "I'm surrounded by reprobates. Science is the only language I speak, and it seems wasted in this room."
Vanko looked up from his work, narrowing his eyes at Otto. "Repro-what? You calling names, octopus?"
Otto sighed, adjusting his glasses. "It means degenerates, simpletons. And yes, I'm calling you that, you drunk."
Justin scratched his chin, not even noticing the oil he covered himself in, feeling quite odd about the fact even with the influence hyper charging their scientific abilities - it didn't stop them from putting it aside to focus on being utter asses.
Vanko's face split into a grin as he grabbed his vodka bottle and pointed it at Otto. "Well, octopus, I maybe not know what all means, still going to beat you up for being pussy."
"You're drunk," Otto replied flatly. "I could take you."
Forge, who had been quietly enjoying the exchange, perked up. "Oh, I'm putting fifteen hundred dollars on Vanko," He said eagerly, grinning as he set down his tools.
Otto turned to him with an incredulous expression. "We're not actually fighting. I was simply making an observation on his readiness."
The room fell silent for a moment as Vanko stood abruptly, swaying slightly before ripping off his shirt and letting out a loud roar. "Let's fight, octopussy!" He bellowed, his chest bare and his stance unsteady.
Justin palmed his face at the - property of Zara - tattoo he could see, barely covered by the line of Vanko's lagging sweatpants. His Black Widows did really go the extra mile at times…
Otto froze, his mechanical arms halting their work as he stared at Vanko in disbelief. "This is absurd," He muttered, glancing at Justin for support. "Tell him this is beneath us."
Justin smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh, I believe in you, Otto." He said, not inclined to save him.
The scientist was prone to condescend to the others, so this was long overdue, he felt.
And maybe afterwards, they could go back to the science like what they were here for!
Forge grinned, folding his arms. "So, what's your bet, boss?"
Justin's expression didn't change as he replied casually, "I'm betting on Vanko, of course."
Otto gave him a withering look. "Your belief didn't last long, did it, sir?"
Justin chuckled, shaking his head. "I believe in you plenty, Otto. But when it comes to money, I only pick winners." He tilted his head toward Vanko, who was now shadowboxing clumsily. "And I believe in Vanko more - he's stronger when drunk."
Otto sighed, muttering under his breath about the futility of his situation. As Vanko lunged toward him, Otto's mechanical arms moved with precision, swiping Vanko aside effortlessly and tossed him against the nearest wall. "This is beneath me," Otto said with disdain.
Before anyone could respond, a bottle of vodka soared through the air and struck Otto squarely on the head, shattering and soaking him in the process.
Otto's eye twitched.
April 3rd, 2010, United States of America.
The old pickup truck rattled slightly as it rolled down the narrow country road, dust kicking up behind its tires. The faint smell of oil and aged leather filled the cab, mingling with the quiet hum of the engine. Bucky sat behind the wheel, one hand casually draped over the top, the other resting lightly on the stick shift.
Beside him, Steve sat hunched in the passenger seat, his ball cap pulled low over his face, and his hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of his jacket.
Hammer had given Bucky carte blanche to do what he wished with his old friend. As long as it didn't come back and bite Hammer Industries.
He'd been unsure for a long time about fighting for Hammer, but it seemed the best choice, now even more so. HYDRA was dead, his soul almost at piece with that knowledge, something that couldn't have happened without Hammer.
Not with how deeply HYDRA had entrenched itself in the government's and intelligence apparatuses around the world.
For Steve, the weight of everything he'd missed - and everything that had gone wrong - seemed heavier than ever. Especially after Bucky had shared his point of view, and all that Hammer had done, comparing that to what Steve's 'benefactors' had ever done for the world.
Especially once he found out from his best friend that Peggy hadn't been 'taken' by Hammer as a hostage. She'd been removed for Bucky's sake, and healed of the debilitating disease she'd had.
"Tell me again," Steve said quietly, his voice tinged with both hope and apprehension. "She's okay? She's really okay?"
Bucky glanced at him, his expression softer than usual. "Yeah, Steve. She's more than okay. Panacea works miracles like that." He flexed his metal fingers idly, on the hand he'd refused to let grow back, having kept his metal arm to remind him of his crimes, maybe he was ready now? "Hammer's got his faults, but saving Peggy and others like her? That's worth every fault in my book, Steve."
Steve nodded, his eyes fixed on the horizon. The tension in his shoulders was unmistakable. "It's hard to believe she'd even… Agree to it."
Bucky smirked, shifting gears as the truck climbed a small hill. "You think Peggy Carter wouldn't take the chance to kick death in the teeth? You don't know her as well as you think."
Steve's lips twitched into the faintest of smiles, though it didn't quite reach his eyes, fear shining through. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Still… I'm nervous, Buck. It's been so long. What if…?"
"She'll be glad to see you," Bucky interrupted firmly. Then, after a pause, He added with a wry grin, "After she finishes yelling at you."
Steve let out a soft laugh, but it was laced with anxiety. "Yeah, probably."
The truck hit a bump in the road, and Steve grabbed onto the door handle instinctively. As the vehicle steadied, he turned his gaze to Bucky, his brows furrowing. "So… She's okay with not working with SHIELD anymore? Not trying to save it at all?"
She'd created the organization, it had been half the reason Steve had been so quick to dance to Fury's tune. He'd been helping the organization she built.
Bucky shook his head, his expression darkening slightly. "Nope. She made it real clear she was done with them. Said she'd seen enough to know they couldn't be trusted to exist - not with how they had HYDRA crawling around inside, not after what they did… Or didn't do..."
Steve winced, guilt flickering across his face. "Because of me."
Bucky rolled his eyes, keeping his eyes on the road. "Steve, not everything's about you. SHIELD screwed up on a whole bunch of levels long before you thawed and Peggy hates it. Let's not forget they didn't figure out HYDRA was playing them from the inside for decades. They let Howard die due to that infiltration, and they never came looking for me either, which burns Peggy something fierce now." His grip on the wheel tightened for a moment before he let out a breath. "Peggy saw all that history now, saw how broken it was, and decided she wasn't gonna waste her time fighting for something that wasn't worth saving."
Peggy had been the first to applaud Hammer's complete dismantling of everything she built.
She still didn't like him.
But she respected him.
Which was fair enough. Bucky worked for him, and he didn't like him either. You didn't have time like people to work with them.
Something Steve needed to learn.
Steve slumped back in his seat, his cap shadowing his face even more. "But… Democracy," He said weakly, his voice tinged with that old idealism, coming from a time long gone.
Bucky gave him a sideways look, his expression flat. "Yeah, well, Peggy's seen what 'democracy' brought over the decades too. She's a little more open-minded now. Maybe you should try it."
SHIELD being what they were, their failures, it had really burned any empathy Peggy held for the government's of the world. They'd only succeeded in making everything worse, she'd said once her mind was returned to her.
Steve frowned, but he didn't argue. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the soft hum of the truck's engine. They drove on for a while, the tension thickening with every mile.
Finally, Steve broke the silence, his voice quiet and hesitant. "Is she… Is she going to hate me?"
Bucky's lips curved into a smirk, and he gave Steve a look filled with just a hint of schadenfreude.
"Oh, she is going to kick your ass," Bucky said with relish.
April 10th, 2010, Malibu.
The Malibu workshop was, as always, a playground for genius. Tony Stark's space was an eclectic mix of cutting-edge tech, half-finished experiments, and the lingering smell of ozone from a plasma welder left on as he got distracted by something else.
Holographic displays floated above the workstations, illuminating the space in a cool blue glow that reflected off the metal of the tools and machinery scattered around. Justin worked diligently at one of the workbenches, his eyes darting between Tony and the holograms as they worked on finalizing the designs for the weapons systems that would soon adorn Earth's orbital defense satellites.
With the stock of Pym Particles they had, they'd be able to build and launch a shield around the world in six months or so - if the projections held.
Soon enough, Tony and Banner would dig into solving the Pym Particles, and Justin didn't doubt it for a second that they would. Tony had made time travel work, he could do this.
Justin might even be able to if he leaned heavily into his different domains, but he didn't have the time. Tony had Pepper running his company and life - he had the time.
Justin wasn't entirely sure why Tony had invited him here to begin with. The man still didn't take him seriously as an equal, despite Justin's consistent successes in merging innovation and enterprise. He certainly didn't realize that Justin was flexing his domain over innovation itself to keep pace - because he didn't believe Justin was a god. Without that, matching Tony's rapid-fire thoughts would've been a challenge - even if Justin wasn't about to admit that out loud.
He hadn't souped Tony up on that juice, because he was honestly somewhat afraid that the man would create if he got even better at innovating tech.
Tony, oblivious to any divine intervention, was in his element of course. He was wearing a grease-stained tank top and jeans, his hands moving in a blur as he manipulated a holographic schematic of the satellite. "Alright, Hammer," Tony said without looking up, "Try to keep up."
Justin bit back a retort, focusing instead on the projection in front of him. It was a strong, modular design utilizing vibranium, outfitted with enough weaponry to make any alien invader think twice about messing with Earth. Justin frowned, tweaking a detail in the design. "You're cramming too much power into the particle cannons. They'll overheat before they get through a sustained barrage."
Even with Vibranium, there was only so much bang you could put in something. And it would be a waste to accidentally blow up that much vibranium.
Thankfully, with the world as it was, they were now, together, the sole occupants of the world's vibranium.
Well… Except for Namor, he should really do something about that blowhard soon…
Tony paused, glancing at Justin with a raised eyebrow. "Overheat? Please. This isn't amateur hour. Look -" He expanded the section Justin had adjusted, revealing an intricate cooling system. "These are superconductive heat sinks that with the power of pym particles will fit ten thousand sinks, to prevent issues. They'll keep the cannons cool enough to fire at full capacity for two hours straight."
They didn't have an alien ship to study, but one of these cannons could vaporize a navy battle cruiser in seconds, so it should do something to a spaceship.
Justin studied the design, grudgingly impressed. "Not bad. Two hours should be enough. What happens if the attack lasts longer than that? If it's a blockade?"
Tony grinned, gesturing to a secondary system embedded within the satellite. "Backup cooling. Liquid helium reservoirs, shrunk by the power of the Pym as well. It's a fail-safe in case things get hairy." And cheaper on Pym Particles too, Justin could see.
Justin nodded, conceding the point. "Alright. And what about the missile systems to compliment the other weaponry? Were you able to incorporate my thoughts, or forced to settle for more traditional weapons?"
Tony's grin widened. "Me, settle? Perish the thought. Check this out." He highlighted a series of cylindrical compartments on the satellite's underside. "These aren't just missiles - they're micro-railgun clusters. When fired, they break apart and magnetically accelerate a payload of tungsten rods, each about the size of a pencil at first thanks to - well you know what - flying away at hypersonic speeds. They hit with the force of a small nuke but without the messy fallout, just like you theorized."
Justin let out a low whistle. "That's… horrifyingly delicious, I knew I was a genius. What about power draw? Those missiles will eat through energy like crazy in each firing sequence, it's why I had hesitated over if they were worth it."
Tony waved a hand dismissively. "That's what the arc reactors are for. Each satellite gets its own reactor obviously. They're smallish, but powerful enough to keep everything running smoothly for decades."
And if they could crack Pym Particles quickly, they could afford to seed the satellites with backup arc generators by the dozens through miniaturization.
Justin frowned after a moment, pointing to another section of the schematic. "And the stabilizers? If one of those railgun missiles has a glitch and fires off-center, the satellite's rotation could go haywire."
Tony tapped a spot on the blueprint, pulling up the gyroscopic stabilization system. "Triple redundancies. Even if two stabilizers fail, the satellite will stay steady. And if all three fail? Well, that's why we're building hundreds of these bad boys. Redundancy in numbers."
Justin hummed in thought, shaking his head. "We do good work, but we'll definitely need to get on the Pym Particles immediately, the last half of the satellites could go up ten times as strong if we didn't have to ration particles."
Tony shot him a smug look. "It's me. I'll have it cracked in a week, tops."
Justin leaned closer to the hologram, his fingers dancing over the controls as he made a few minor adjustments, not dignifying Tony with an answer. Especially as he might pull it off. "Okay, let's focus on the laser defense systems? I'm assuming we're going with solid-state?"
Tony nodded, his expression turning serious. "Solid-state lasers, yeah. High-energy, continuous beam. They're perfect for precision strikes against anything fired against the satellite. But we're also integrating free-electron lasers for versatility. Those can be tuned on the fly, letting us adjust the wavelength and energy output depending on the target."
Justin's brow furrowed. "That's ambitious. Free-electron lasers require a lot of space. Can we even fit them onto the satellite before we've cracked Pyms formula?"
Tony grinned, pulling up another schematic. "Miniaturized electron accelerators without pym particles, I was bored last night. It's tight, but it works."
Justin studied the design, his mind racing. "Alright. And targeting systems? You added the backup I asked for in case Nail is somehow shut down?"
Nail could run the defense system by herself, but she'd been bypassed before, so he wasn't taking chances.
"Added a limited AI, yeah," Tony replied. "There's a manual override if we need it. And before you ask, yes, the AI is idiot-proof. I made sure of it."
The two men fell into a comfortable rhythm, bouncing ideas off each other as they refined the designs. The satellites were shaping up to be marvels of engineering - powerful, efficient, and terrifyingly effective.
As the holographic display flickered away for a moment, Justin leaned back, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Alright, Stark. Enough tech talk for a second. How's Pepper doing?"
Tony glanced at him, a small smile playing on his lips. "She's good. Keeps me grounded. Keeps the company running. Honestly, she's the best thing that ever happened to me."
Justin smirked. "Smart, hot as sin, and tough as nails. You really hit the jackpot, didn't you?"
Personally, he had better women, but he wasn't going to rain on Tony's parade.
Tony's smile turned sly. "You don't even know the half of it. Let's just say that heat is even better in the bedroom, there's a reason I'm monogamous now."
Justin raised an eyebrow. "I don't need to know the details, Tony, we both know she wears the pants, you filthy bottom."
Tony laughed, leaning back in his chair. "Your loss, you're just jealous."
Justin shook his head, getting contemplative. "I couldn't do it, though. The whole 'forever' thing. I mean, I'm a god now. imagine the same woman for eternity..."
Tony groaned, rubbing his temples. "You're not a god, Hammer." He broke out two beers from a mini fridge, and tossed one to Justin, "Drink it and shut up, before I regret my life choices."
Justin looked at the beer with disdain. Without a word, he flicked his hand, creating a swirling portal in midair. He reached through, his arm disappearing into the glowing vortex, and pulled back a tropical drink in a coconut shell, complete with a colorful swirly straw.
Tony stared at the drink, then at Justin. "That's not godly. That's just you having freaky powers."
Justin shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. "Call it what you want."
Tony's eyes flicked back to the drink, then to Justin. "Okay, fine. Where's mine?"
Justin rolled his eyes and created another portal, reaching through to retrieve a second coconut drink. An indignant "Hey!" echoed faintly from the other side of the portal before it snapped shut.
"Don't tell Pepper you can grab alcohol from anywhere," Tony said as he grabbed the drink. "She'll totally ruin this playdate." He slurped loudly through the straw, leaning back with a satisfied sigh.
Justin smirked. "Whipped."
Tony's expression darkened comically even as his lips twitched, and then, without warning, he hurled a nearby wrench at Justin's head. The wrench struck Justin squarely on the forehead - and broke in two.
Tony stared at the broken pieces on the floor, his coconut drink frozen halfway to his lips. "You broke my favorite wrench." He complained.
From the speakers, Jarvis chimed in, his tone dry as ever. "Sir, you retrieved that wrench from a drawer filled with dozens of identical wrenches."
Tony pointed at the shattered remains. "But it was my favorite." He whined.
Jarvis warbled out a sigh. "Sir, we order a new drawer of wrenches every month." He reminded.
Justin chuckled, shaking his head. "Also, for the record, I didn't break it. You did."
Tony gestured at him with his drink, looking affronted. "It wasn't broken when it left my hand."
Justin gave him a bemused look. "Throwing things at a god means you lose them. It's a rule."
Tony slammed a hand down on the workbench, his coconut drink sloshing slightly. "You know what? Fine. I'm going to reform. Join the Church of Hammer. I could probably make high priest in a month with a few well-placed donations, if this is a thing now, I'll go all the way, how about that?."
Justin choked on his drink in horror.
The next day, Hammerhaven.
The spacious living room of Justin's penthouse was bathed in a warm, dim light, the kind meant for relaxation rather than business. The oversized screen on the far wall had just begun to scroll with the credits of a high-budget sci-fi flick, the score swelling dramatically as the audience - Justin, Domino, Yelena, and Eileen - sat in varying states of relaxation.
Domino and Eileen were comfortably curled up together on one of the couches, Domino's head resting lazily on Eileen's shoulder, her dark hair splayed against the other woman's pale neck. Eileen absently twirled a strand of Domino's hair between her fingers, her legs tucked up underneath her. Across the room, Justin and Yelena occupied the other couch, their postures less intertwined but no less comfortable. Yelena leaned back with her arms crossed, her feet tucked up on the cushions, while Justin reclined with one arm slung over the back of the couch.
The movie's dramatic final notes faded into softer, reflective tones as the credits rolled. Justin, ever the workaholic even during downtime, let out a contemplative hum that immediately put the others on edge.
"You know," He began, his tone casual but carrying the weight of one of his infamous ideas, "We really ought to rename Earth."
The room instantly tensed, though Justin didn't notice. Domino stiffened slightly in Eileen's arms, and Yelena glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, her brow furrowing. Eileen's fingers froze mid-motion, her eyes darting to Domino's with a silent look that screamed, Oh no, here we go.
"What's wrong with Earth?" Yelena asked, trying to sound uninterested as she studied him.
Justin shrugged, staring up at the ceiling like the question had been bothering him for weeks. "It's just… Not dignified. A planet like this, under my leadership? It deserves something better. Something unique."
Hammertopia? HammerPrime? He'd have to workshop it.
Domino let out a nervous laugh, breaking the silence. "You're serious about this? Isn't Earth, like… Fine? Everyone knows it as Earth."
"Thor said others in the galaxy call it Terra," Eileen offered carefully, her voice measured as though she were navigating a minefield.
Justin turned that over in his head, his lips twitching in mild consideration. "Terra… It has a certain ring to it. But it doesn't sound special enough. Not for what we're building here."
The panicked looks were back, Domino shooting Eileen a quick what do we do? glance. Eileen, ever the composed one, tried again. "It might be bad luck to name it now," She said smoothly. "You know, when technically it's not all yours yet. Russia and China are still holding out, and then there's the whole Middle East situation…"
Domino latched onto the idea like a lifeline. "Exactly! You don't want to jinx it. Wait until you've got the whole thing sewn up before you start slapping your name on it."
Justin glanced between the two of them, his expression bemused, as though he couldn't quite understand why they were trying to talk him out of this. "I've already won," He said with a slight smirk. "It's fine. They'll fold eventually. I just need to think of the right name…"
"Let's go," Yelena cut in abruptly, rising from her seat and grabbing Justin's hand.
Justin blinked, caught off guard. "Go where?"
"Bedroom. Now." Yelena's tone left no room for argument.
Justin tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly. "What's gotten into you? We're in the middle of -"
"Now," Yelena said firmly, her eyes narrowing with determination. "I'll wear the outfit you like." She coaxed, "With the tail too…"
That stopped him in his tracks. A flicker of understanding crossed his face, followed by a slow grin. "You drive a hard bargain, Yelena," He murmured, standing and letting her lead him toward the hallway.
As they disappeared around the corner, Yelena glanced back at Domino and Eileen, her expression screaming - you owe me for this.
The door clicked shut behind them, leaving the two women alone in the living room. Domino exhaled loudly, her body sagging against Eileen in exaggerated relief. "Crisis averted."
Eileen snorted softly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "For now."
Domino tilted her head back to look up at Eileen, her dark eyes glittering with mischief. "You know, we should really thank sex for its tireless service. Saved us all from living on Hammeropolis or something."
Eileen raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching as she tried to suppress a laugh. "And how exactly do you propose we thank sex?"
Domino didn't answer with words. Instead, she leaned up and pressed her lips to Eileen's, her kiss slow and teasing, a murmur slipping through their joined mouths. "I have a few ideas."
Meanwhile, San Francisco.
Darren Cross moved through the grand halls of his mansion with a storm of frustration swirling inside him. The ornate architecture, all sharp angles and gleaming surfaces, only served to irritate him further at the moment. Everything was pristine, flawless, but it felt hollow - a reflection of the control he no longer had over his life.
"Frozen out," Darren muttered under his breath, his voice a low growl as he marched toward the basement. "Stark, Banner, and Hammer think they can sideline me? Take my work? Take what I've built?" His jaw clenched, his hand tightening around the paper coffee cup he carried. The bitter liquid was lukewarm now, but he barely noticed. "I'll show them. I'll remind them why Darren Cross isn't someone to underestimate."
He reached the staircase leading down to his private vault, a spiral of polished steel. The faint hum of hidden security systems buzzed in the background, a sound Darren usually found comforting. Tonight, it felt oppressive. He paused briefly, setting the coffee cup on the ledge beside the first security checkpoint.
"Authorization: Darren Cross," He said flatly, placing his hand on the biometric scanner. A faint blue light swept over his palm, and the door clicked open with a soft hiss. He glanced at the cup as the door slid aside, intending to pick it back up once he stepped through.
But when he turned to grab it, the cup was gone.
Darren blinked, frowning. "What the…?" He scanned the ledge, but there was nothing there. For a moment, he stood frozen, confusion knitting his brow. "I must've forgotten it upstairs," He muttered, shaking his head. The thought didn't sit right - he was certain he'd brought it down - but he dismissed it, pushing through the door.
The second checkpoint required a retinal scan. Darren leaned forward, aligning his eye with the scanner. A red beam flickered across his iris, and a soft chime confirmed his identity. The door slid open, revealing a narrow corridor lined with metallic walls and glowing floor panels, doorways leading to different rooms holding his experiments with the pym particles.
He walked briskly, his footsteps muffled on the carpeted floor. As he moved, he glanced back over his shoulder, a habit born of years of paranoia. The hallway behind him was empty, he was sure of it, so why did he feel so… He quickened his pace, dismissing the uneasy feeling growing in his chest.
The third checkpoint loomed ahead: a massive, reinforced door that required a numbered code, a secondary handprint scan, and a vocal command with a separate passcode. Darren approached it with the confidence of routine, entering the code with practiced precision. His palm pressed against the scanner, the cold surface smooth beneath his touch as he spoke loudly and clearly,
"Hope Van Dyne." His voice steady despite the faint prickle of unease at the back of his neck.
The door unlocked with a mechanical thunk, the heavy bolts retracting as the circular portal slid open. Darren stepped inside his vault, exhaling slowly as the familiar sight of his sanctuary greeted him. Shelves lined the walls, meticulously organized with notes, prototypes, and fragments of his research. At the center of the room stood the safe - a gleaming behemoth of reinforced steel that housed his most valuable possession - the Ant-Man suit.
Darren moved toward the workbench, his eyes scanning the neatly arranged tools and components. He ran a hand over the cool surface, picking up a small device - a prototype he'd been tinkering with for weeks. It was light in his hand, its polished surface glinting under the overhead lights.
But when he set it down and turned away, he heard a faint clink. He froze, his brow furrowing. Turning back to the workbench, he stared at the spot where the device had been. It was gone.
"What the hell?" Darren muttered, his voice tinged with irritation. He glanced around the room, his eyes darting to the shelves and the floor. "Where did it go?"
Had he been mistaken?
He stepped back, scanning the room more thoroughly. His gaze lingered on the doorway for a moment, but there was nothing - no sign of intrusion, no flicker of movement. Shaking his head, he let out a frustrated sigh. "I'm overtired," He muttered, rubbing his temples. "That's all. I'm just… Tired."
As he walked toward the safe, the feeling of unease deepened. He couldn't shake the sensation that he was being watched. The air felt heavier, charged with something he couldn't identify. Darren forced himself to focus, entering the code for the safe with deliberate precision. The lock disengaged with a soft click, and the door swung open.
Inside, the Ant-Man suit gleamed under the lights, its black and red design a holdover from when Hank gave it to him, he'd have to change it of course, so it fit better with Darren's brilliance. He smiled faintly, his earlier frustration momentarily eclipsed by pride. "They think they can push me out," He murmured, reaching toward the suit. "But they don't understand the power I -"
A faint noise behind him made him freeze. It was subtle, like the whisper of fabric brushing against metal. Darren turned sharply, his heart pounding as his eyes swept the room. Nothing. The space was as still and silent as it had been moments ago.
"Get a grip," He muttered, exhaling sharply. He turned back to the safe, his hand reaching for the suit - only to find the compartment empty.
His stomach dropped. The suit was gone.
"No, no, no," Darren whispered, his voice rising with panic. He stepped back, his eyes darting around the room. "It was just here! It was right here!"
He grabbed at his belt, fumbling for the gun he always carried since Hope and Hank both died so close together. But when his hand touched the holster, it was empty. Darren's heart raced as he stared down at the bare leather strap. "What the hell is going on?" He muttered, his voice shaking.
A flicker of movement caught his eye, and he turned toward the workbench. The device he'd been holding earlier was back, sitting neatly where he'd left it. Darren took a step closer, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against the smooth surface.
Another noise - this time from the safe. Darren spun around, his pulse thundering in his ears. The Ant-Man suit was back, resting in the safe as if it had never been gone.
Darren stared at it, his chest heaving. His mind raced, desperately trying to rationalize what was happening. "I'm hallucinating," He said aloud, his voice cracking. "I've been working too hard. That's all this is."
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself. When he opened them again, the suit was gone again.
"What is happening!?" Darren screamed, his voice echoing through the vault.
A soft, mocking laugh answered him.
Same night, Hammer's Space station.
The office space aboard the Hammer space station had a sprawling view of Earth framed by reinforced glass. Justin lounged in a high-backed chair, his fingers steepled under his chin as he reviewed a holographic map hovering over his desk. Next to him, Sunil Bakshi leaned forward, his sharp suit impeccable as always, as he processed Information through his mental implant.
"Reports from the western border indicate NATO has Russia boxed in nicely," Sunil said, his voice clipped and professional. "The economic sanctions are bleeding them, but they've been relying heavily on whatever resources they can trade with China. And on China's side -" He gestured at the eastern section of the map, glowing faintly with overlays of military activity, " - India, Japan, South Korea, and the U.S. are holding the line blocking them in. For now."
Justin nodded, his expression unreadable as he studied the map. "China and Russia propping each other up, huh? Like two drunks leaning on each other to stay upright." He leaned back in his chair, his tone laced with dry amusement. "It's almost poetic."
"Perhaps," Sunil allowed, adjusting his tie. "But it's effective. They're coordinating logistics and funneling resources to each other. It's keeping their regimes afloat."
Justin's lip curled into a faint smirk. "It won't last. You can only gun down so many protesters before the dam breaks. Civil unrest is a slow burn, but eventually, it'll consume them."
Sunil's brows knit together as he considered Justin's words. "We could expedite that process," He offered carefully. "Position ourselves, help the rebels succeed. Step in when things get to a head, and we'll have an easier time installing regimes that answer to us."
Justin let out a soft chuckle, the sound devoid of warmth. "Saviors? Sunil, we'll be seen as saviors no matter when we step in. The world has a short memory and a long history of bending the knee to whoever's left standing." He waved a dismissive hand. "No need to waste money and resources playing the hero here. Let the ingrates stew in their mess until they're desperate for a helping hand and beg us to take over."
Before Sunil could respond, the room's ambient lighting shifted faintly, signaling an unexpected intrusion. Justin straightened slightly, his keen eyes narrowing. In a shimmer of golden light, a figure materialized in the room. Tall and regal, Lady Frejya exuded an effortless grace, her flowing robes shifting like liquid starlight. Her smile was warm, but the sharp glint in her eyes suggested a depth of mischief that instantly put Justin on alert.
Justin rose slowly, smoothing the lapels of his suit. "Lady Frejya…" His tone was cautious but respectful.
"Relax, Mr. Hammer," Frejya said, her melodic voice tinged with amusement. She raised a hand in a placating gesture. "I'm only a projection. I haven't broken into your little fortress." She winked, the gesture almost playful.
He didn't trust a woman who came to him like this, all smiles and playfulness. Something was definitely wrong. She was even worse than she'd been at the negotiations, when they'd met in person.
He really wished Thor would pick up his balls and really be King. Then he could negotiate so much easier.
Sunil, who had frozen the moment she appeared, glanced toward Justin, silently seeking permission to excuse himself. Justin gave a small shake of his head, his attention firmly on Frejya.
"What can I do for you, Lady Frejya?" Justin asked, his voice even.
Frejya's smile widened slightly as she clasped her hands before her. "I wanted to inform you that my son, Thor, has taken possession of a rather sizable Ravager vessel. He will be bringing it to Midgard as part of our arrangement. It should arrive within a month."
Justin inclined his head. "I never doubted you would honor the deal," He said smoothly. "Thank you for the update."
Frejya's smile took on a mischievous edge, her eyes twinkling. "There's another matter I wanted to discuss," She said, her tone casual yet pointed.
Justin raised an eyebrow, his unease carefully masked. "And what would that be?"
Frejya's grin grew as she tilted her head slightly. "Your relationship with Hela."
Justin's carefully neutral expression faltered, his jaw tightening imperceptibly. "There is no relationship with Hela," He said carefully, his words measured.
Frejya chuckled, a rich, warm sound that carried a hint of amusement. "Carnal relationships often evolve into more," She said with a knowing smile.
Justin's eyebrow twitched, and his voice dipped with irritation. "What favor would I need to grant to be allowed to pluck Heimdall's eyeballs out?" He asked dryly.
Goddamn voyeur.
Frejya's laughter bubbled forth, genuine and unrestrained. "Ah, don't be upset, Heimdall can't help but see all." She didn't answer his question, taking amusement from his irritation.
Justin exhaled sharply, his shoulders stiff. "I assume Heimdall also felt the need to share any other observations."
Frejya gave a small shrug, her smile turning enigmatic. "He is thorough in his duties."
He would have to find a way around that…
Before Justin could respond again, Frejya's expression shifted, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. "But all of that, is not why I'm here. I must admit, I'm curious about something."
Justin nodded slowly, his wariness growing. "Of course, Lady Frejya. Ask away."
Her smile was as sharp as it was serene, her gaze steady. "What part of the deal to keep Hela on Midgard entails tasking her with roaming the cosmos?"
Justin's polished demeanor slipped for the briefest of moments. Sunil, who had been doing his best to remain inconspicuous, suddenly looked like he wished he could evaporate.
Justin's lips pressed into a thin line. "Heimdall again?"
Frejya simply nodded, her eyes closing as her smile turned razor-sharp, a picture of divine amusement laced with danger.
Author's Note:
I know nothing about weapons, I'm making shit up after a quick Google search, don't hassle me with weapons don't work like that or something.
And yes, somehow, Justin and Tony are friends. Who saw that coming first few chapters of this story?
Justin is going to lose it if he's made godfather of Tony's kid.
Jean is now fully on board the Hammer express, having left the X-men completely.
We still probably have months of this to go, needing to wrap up Thanos and everything else - but story is definitely on the home stretch I think.
Cheers
Jollyhippopotamus
Back to normal, won its vote of course.
Let's see what everyone is up to since last chapter, in this peaceful time.
Shenanigans mostly. It's always shenanigans.
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc.
Hope you enjoy.
April 1st, 2010
The sun shone brightly over the sprawling grounds of UNICEF's new headquarters in Zimbabwe. The air was warm, carrying the scent of freshly tilled earth and blossoming flowers. A lot of effort had gone into transforming the space into a beacon of hope and progress for all of Africa's downtrodden.
Not so downtrodden anymore, perhaps, but transforming third world countries into one's with a living standard matching the first world - was not something that could be achieved in a measly year, despite Hammer Industries efforts.
The facility itself was a mix of modern design and more down to earth African architecture - mixing sleek glass buildings interspersed with green spaces - with circular enclosures with conical towers, all in a muted brown with marking of ancient times carved into its walls in geometrical patterns, showcasing the African heritage side of things.
All of the buildings bustled with activity as staff moved with purpose - former UN staff moving with pep in their step as they finally actually got to perform their mandates. Suits and fine dresses mingling with traditional robes and Burqas as the multicultural agency thrived.
The end of poverty, of water scarcity, of soil erosion devastating farm lands - it was all now within reach.
Justin strode confidently through the courtyard of the largest building - the main offices of UNICEF - the other ones relegated to satellite status and outreach offices, while the major players moved here. His tailored suit looked sharp against the vibrant backdrop of nature, and artificial waterfalls and fountains that dotted the space.
Beside him, Jean Grey walked with measured steps, trying to mask her nerves, her eyes scanning the area with a mixture of awe and trepidation. Ororo Munroe trailed behind, her posture relaxed but her keen eyes taking in every detail, her time as a leader of the organization evident in her calm appraisal.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Justin said, breaking the comfortable silence. His voice carried an edge of pride as he gestured toward the main building, its mirrored surfaces reflecting the brilliant blue sky. "This is where the magic happens - at least for Africa at this time. Southeast Asia and the Middle East are next on the list for an expansion of assistance, but this is the beating heart of it all."
He'd have preferred to draw Jean in closer than this, the Phoenix was something that made him wary, but that was also why he refused to push for more. He couldn't even be sure she held the primordial force of the universe - but he'd operate on the assumption she did.
Hence baby steps on the recruitment angle.
As usual, Xavier had been entirely full of inane talk without revealing anything pertinent, when he'd subtly probed about the woman before her confirmation as head of UNESCO.
Jean nodded, her fingers brushing nervously against the hem of her blazer. "It's… incredible. The scale of it all. I never imagined - " She cut herself off nervously, shaking her head slightly. "I'm just not sure I'm the right person for this."
"You are," Justin said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument. "It's all yours. You're the head now, I've decided."
It was already done, he wasn't about to lead Jean slip hack into something as worthless as being part of the X-Men.
If they even existed anymore in anything but name, Xavier had lost plenty of students and team members since Cairo, after all.
Jean stopped in her tracks, blinking up at him in surprise. "Just like that? Mr Hammer, I'm new to this. I can't just -"
"You can," Justin interrupted smoothly, his gaze steady. "Ororo was the head. Now you are. Simple, two fantastic women cut from the same cloth, you'll do great."
Ororo gave her a warm smile as gently touched her shoulder, showing her support.
Jean's brows knitted together as she crossed her arms, her expression a mix of frustration and doubt. "No, it's not that simple. What will people think? They'll say I'm unqualified, that I don't deserve this -"
"That you're sleeping with him," Ororo said dryly, cutting Jean off with a knowing smirk.
Jean's face turned beet red as she whirled toward Ororo. "But I'm not!" She protested, her voice almost a squeak.
"They'll think it," Justin said with a shrug, unfazed by the comment. "But one day of working under you, and they'll realize you have what it takes to do this job and didnt sleep your way to it." His voice was calm, almost casual, but the conviction in his words was unmistakable.
Now if she did end up in his bed… He wouldn't complain.
Although after he'd figured out how to shut down his swimmers - Jean Grey becoming pregnant wasn't a risk he wanted to take.
Ororo's smirk softened into a small smile as she placed a reassuring hand on Jean's shoulder, more firmly this time. "He's right. You're more capable than you give yourself credit for. And once you start, no one will question why you're here - and this is exactly what you need, what you've dreamed of."
Jean let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Thanks," She said quietly, though her cheeks still burned. "It is… A wonderful opportunity."
Justin resumed walking, leading them toward the main building. "This will be your main office," He explained. "We've got teams working across Africa, Latin America, the Caribbean, that you'll oversee, but we're also expanding into Southeast Asia and the Middle East. There's still a lot to be done to get everyone to the same standard, and your organization will be the bridge, stabilizing things until Hammer Industries can uplift them."
Jean glanced at him curiously. "Africa isn't almost done?"
Justin chuckled, shaking his head. Ororo joined in with a soft laugh, her tone light but tinged with understanding. "Nowhere close," Justin said. "We've made significant progress, sure, but there are still areas under third-world conditions. Poverty will likely be a thing of the past here within a year, maybe a year and a half. It's been one of our biggest focuses."
"And your biggest bragging point," Ororo added with a teasing smile. Jean gave her a surprised look at how… Comfortable, she seemed with him.
Ororo gave her a look that said she'd explain later, and Jean let it go.
Justin smirked at Ororo, having caught the silent byplay. "Can you blame me? Look around. This isn't just talk - it's results. But there's still more to do, which is why you're here," He said, looking pointedly at Jean.
They entered the main building, and Justin led the way through brightly lit corridors lined with artwork and photographs of smiling children, eventually leading them to a large room where a setup for a photoshoot was visible. Cameras, lights, and backdrops were arranged with precision, while a small team of photographers and assistants bustled about.
Jean stopped in her tracks, raising an eyebrow. "What's all this?" She asked, gesturing toward the setup.
Ororo's eyes gleamed with mischief. "It's for the children," She said innocently.
Jean gave her a long-suffering look. "This isn't going to help with people thinking I slept my way to the top." She said wryly, not really against it, more exasperated than anything. She gave Justin a look.
He raised his hands, a smirk on his face, "For once, I am completely innocent."
He'd still signed off on it, but it hadn't been his idea.
Ororo's smirk widened as she crossed her arms and gave Jean a playful look. "Remember the photoshoot you all teased me for? The one I did to push a metahuman-friendly agenda and boost UNICEF's profile? Well," She said, giving Jean a playful push toward the setup, "Your turn to dazzle the masses."
Jean huffed, crossing her arms but unable to hide the small smile tugging at her lips. "You know, I'm not shy. I'll do it. But," She added with a sly grin, "I bet I'll sell more calendars than you did."
Ororo's eyes narrowed, as she scoffed with a playful air. "There is no chance that you'll sell more than me, this goddess can't be defeated by a mere pupil."
Jean's smirk turned triumphant as she strutted toward the photographer, her confidence returning in full force. "Watch and learn, Ororo."
Justin watched from the sidelines, amused at how easily Ororo had gotten Jean to put her best foot forward, his arms crossed as he leaned casually against a pillar. "She's a natural," He remarked, glancing at Ororo.
Ororo shrugged, though her expression betrayed a hint of amusement. "She'll be great at this job, the photoshoot is just a way to get back to her for her teasing," She said, her tone confident. "But there's no way she outsells me."
Justin chuckled, shaking his head. "You sound pretty sure of yourself."
"I am," Ororo said firmly. "I'm iconic, the face of metahumans thanks to your campaign."
The photoshoot continued, the energy in the room light and playful. Jean's laughter echoed as she bantered with the photographer and assistants, her earlier nerves all but forgotten. She turned to Ororo at one point, striking a dramatic pose and calling out, "This one's for the cover!"
Ororo rolled her eyes, but the faint smile on her lips betrayed her amusement. "At least she's having fun with it," She muttered.
Halfway through the shoot, they moved away from Jean and let her have her moment, Ororo and Justin coming to stand near the large windows that overlooked the sprawling grounds.
Ororo crossed her arms, her posture relaxed but her expression thoughtful as she gazed out over the grounds. Justin stood beside her, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. For a moment, neither spoke, the quiet between them comfortable.
"So," Justin began, breaking the silence, "how are you feeling?"
Ororo turned to look at him, her white, almost silvery hair, catching the light as a small smile curved her lips. "About what, exactly? The facility? The calendar contest Jean seems determined to win? Or…" Her hand drifted to her stomach, her fingers resting there lightly. "Are you asking about the baby you put in me?"
Justin's lips twitched into a faint smirk, though his gaze softened a tad. "The baby," He confirmed. "I know this probably wasn't in your plans, and… Well, I wanted to check in. Make sure you're doing okay."
He knew she'd intended to seduce him so that mutants - or metahumans as they're now called - would have a voice in the new world order.
But he doubted she'd planned on baby trapping him. That one was on him and his powerful seed.
Ororo's smile widened slightly, though her eyes held a flicker of amusement. "Are you about to apologize, Justin? I didn't think that was in your repertoire."
Justin chuckled, leaning one shoulder against the window frame. "Don't get used to it," He said dryly. "But yeah, I guess I am. I didn't exactly set out to… Defeat your birth control, but it turns out divine biology doesn't care much about human intentions."
Ororo arched an eyebrow, her tone playful. "Is that what you're calling it now? Divine biology?"
"It's accurate," Justin replied with a shrug, though his smirk returned. "Doesn't make it any less annoying, though, if it's… Unwanted." He finished delicately.
Ororo laughed softly, shaking her head. "It's not entirely your fault," She admitted. "I knew what I was getting into when I got involved with you, even if I didn't expect… This." She gestured vaguely toward her stomach, her expression turning more contemplative. "And honestly? I'm okay with it. Surprised, yes. But pleased."
Justin tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. "Pleased?" He repeated. "I wasn't aware you had aspirations of motherhood. If anything, I had expected some anger, or resentment."
There was a big difference between selling your body for your race, and signing on for 18 years of child rearing.
Ororo met his gaze, her eyes steady and calm. "I've always wanted children, it's why i enjoyed being a teacher so much," She said simply. "It's not something I've talked about much, but it's true. And while I might not have chosen you as the father if given the choice," She added with a teasing smile and frank honesty, "I won't deny that this child will have certain… Advantages."
Justin snorted softly. "Advantages, huh? Is that your polite way of saying you'll be mooching off my riches and my godhood?"
Ororo laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "Something like that," She said, her voice tinged with amusement. "But in all seriousness, Justin, this isn't a bad thing. Unexpected, yes. Complicated, definitely. But not bad."
Justin studied her for a moment, his smirk fading into a more thoughtful expression. "You're taking this a lot better than I expected," He admitted. "Of all the people, I would have thought you would be the most uncomfortable with this scenario."
Their tryst had been passionate but brief, and they hadn't yet revisited the matter, Justin too busy and surrounded by other women happily taking care of his needs.
Ororo shrugged, her gaze drifting back to the view outside. "I've learned to adapt," She said. "Life doesn't always go the way we plan, and I've had my fair share of unexpected challenges. This is just another one. And honestly?" She smiled softly, her hand still resting on her stomach. "I'm looking forward to it."
Justin nodded slowly, a hint of respect in his expression. "You're a lot more level-headed about this than I'd be," He said. "Not that I have much of a choice anymore, with thirty-eight kids on the way."
Ororo's eyes widened slightly, and she turned to him with a look of incredulity. "Thirty-eight?" She repeated. "Justin, what on Earth -"
"Divine biology and a healthy appetite," Justin interrupted, holding up a hand. "Apparently, it's incredibly effective. Trust me, I already know how crazy this is."
Ororo shook her head, though she couldn't hide the faint smile on her lips. "You're such a slut," She said, her tone half-amused, half-reproving.
"Maybe," Justin said with a smirk. "But at least I'm consistent."
The two fell into a companionable silence, the weight of their conversation balanced by the ease of their banter. After a moment, Ororo spoke again, her tone more serious.
"Justin," She said, turning to face him fully. "I want you to know that while I'm okay with this, I have certain expectations."
Justin raised an eyebrow, his expression placid, as he had a good idea what she meant. "Oh? Do tell."
Ororo's gaze was steady, her voice firm but not unkind. "This child will have a stable life. A safe life. I know you thrive on chaos, but that's not what I want for them. If you're going to be involved, I need to know that you'll prioritize their well-being, instead of setting up some sort of inheritance game, forcing them to grow up too soon."
Justin nodded, his expression serious. "I get it," He said. "And you don't have to worry. I'm not planning to raise a bunch of mini-me's running around causing chaos. They'll have everything they need - and then some. I don't need another me, I'm irreplaceable."
He hadn't wanted kids right now in the first place, so it wasn't a hardship to agree to being hands off, it was a relief if anything.
Ororo's lips quirked into a small smile. "I'll hold you to that."
"You should," Justin said with a smirk. "Keeps me honest."
2nd of April, 2010, Budapest.
The small café on the quiet streets of Budapest was unremarkable, tucked between a patisserie and a clothing boutique. Its charm lay in its simplicity - cozy wooden furniture, checkered tablecloths, and the warm scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with hints of pastries.
The lunchtime crowd had thinned, leaving only a handful of patrons scattered at tables. Among them, at a corner table shrouded in shadow, sat Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff, their postures tense despite their casual disguises, her hair dyed blonde, like his, while he'd also added a fake beard, to sell their disguise as brother and sister.
Their fake IDs were easily able to hold up to police scrutiny, if not an actual intelligence agency.
Clint adjusted his baseball cap, his eyes scanning the room for the hundredth time. "She's late," He muttered, the impatience in his voice poorly hidden.
"She'll come," Natasha replied, her tone measured but tinged with uncertainty. She stared at her untouched espresso, her fingers tracing the rim of the cup. "She's got the upper hand, no reason to move on anything but her own time."
Clint sighed, leaning back in his chair. "And if she doesn't? What if she decided to turn us in instead?"
Natasha's lips pressed into a thin line. She hadn't allowed herself to voice that possibility, but now that Clint had said it out loud, it hung between them like an accusation. "Then I wouldn't blame her," She admitted quietly, her voice barely audible above the soft clinking of cutlery in the background. "Not after everything..."
They'd backed the wrong horse. right or wrong, what did it matter?
Before Clint could respond, the café's door opened, the chime above it ringing softly. Both Clint and Natasha's gazes snapped toward the entrance, their muscles taut with anticipation. Yelena stepped inside, dressed casually in jeans and a black leather jacket, several ornate rings around each forearm, her long blond hair pulled into a loose braid. Her confident stride carried her to their table with an air of purpose, but it was the figure trailing behind her that made Clint and Natasha exchange a wary glance.
Domino strolled in behind Yelena, her dark hair framing a face that was equal parts amused and watchful. She didn't sit with them, instead choosing a table a few feet away where she could see everything. She locked eyes with Natasha, pointing two fingers from her eyes to Natasha's in an unmistakable gesture of warning.
Their file on Domino by the end of their time with SHIELD had really only had one word of advice on engaging her up close.
Don't.
Yelena slid into the seat across from Natasha, her eyes cool and unreadable. She leaned back, crossing her arms. "You're both still alive," She said dryly. "At least you didn't fuck that up."
Natasha gave her a faint smile, her hands tightening around her cup. "Thanks for coming, Yelena."
Yelena didn't respond immediately, her gaze flicking over Natasha before settling on Clint. "You brought him," She said, her tone neutral but with a hint of something sharper beneath.
"Clint's family," Natasha said simply. "Just like you."
Yelena arched an eyebrow. "Family," She repeated, the word laced with irony. "Is that why you've decided to meet me here? To remind me of our - so very important - family ties?"
Natasha hesitated, unsure how to proceed. "I just… Wanted to talk, clear the air." She said finally. "To congratulate you, actually. You've done well for yourself. A top position in the new world order - it's impressive."
Some flattery wouldn't hurt. Because Natasha had a feeling she wouldn't get out of this without some pain on her end. Yelena had not been impressed with her excuses when they'd talked over the phone.
Yelena's lips quirked into a faint, humorless smile. "Is this the part where you start begging?" She lightly mocked.
Clint bristled, leaning forward. "Hey, you don't have to talk to her like that."
Natasha tried to impress with her gaze that he was not being helpful, but he ignored her to glare at Yelena.
Yelena's expression didn't falter, but her smile grew sharper as she looked at Clint. "Calm down, Hawkeye," She said mockingly. "No one's forced you to kneel and bark on command, yet."
Natasha raised a hand to stop Clint from escalating. "We're not here to fight," She said gently. "We're here because… Because we were wrong. About a lot of things, and to… Apologize."
Natasha would honestly prefer to pull her teeth out with pliers, but she had no other play left but to… Bow before her little sister.
Yelena's smile widened, though there was no warmth in it. "Wrong, huh? That's putting it lightly." She tilted her head, her voice taking on a singsong quality. "Did you know there's an orbital laser aimed at this café right now? Along with five teams of operatives surrounding the building and drones stationed at every possible exit?"
Clint and Natasha exchanged a glance, alarm flashing across Clint's face. "You're bluffing," He said, though his tone lacked confidence.
Yelena held up a finger, her expression smug. "Not bluffing," She said. "I have people who care about me, who would go to the ends of the earth for me. People who protect me." She leaned forward slightly, her gaze piercing. "All the things you two threw away to follow a nutjob, for some silly idea of democracy."
Clint opened his mouth to retort, but Natasha laid a hand on his arm, silencing him. She turned to Yelena, her expression somber. "She's right, Clint," Natasha said softly. "We played the wrong side." Her voice wavered slightly as she met Yelena's gaze. "That's why we're here. We're sorry."
Yelena's smirk remained, but her eyes were locked on Natasha's. "Is that what you call groveling and begging?" She asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "A simple sorry?"
Clint's jaw tightened, and he looked like he was about to say something sharp, but before he could, he let out a grunt of pain, grabbing for his leg under the table. Natasha had clearly kicked him, though her expression remained calm.
"We really doing this, sis?" Natasha asked Yelena, her voice tinged with long-suffering exasperation. Trying one last time to play on their connection.
Yelena raised an eyebrow, her smirk turning knowing. "Oh, yeah," She said with feeling. "We're doing this."
Natasha sighed, looking around the café before visibly swallowing her pride. "Fine. I was wrong. You were right. You're smarter, prettier, and a better fighter than me, okay?"
Yelena made a thoughtful humming sound, tapping her chin as though considering Natasha's words. She turned her head slightly, calling out to Domino. "That sound like enough, Dom? What do you think?"
Domino, who had been watching the interaction with a cold smirk, raised her voice just enough for the entire café to hear. "Make her lick your feet! She should really beg for forgiveness…"
Natasha froze, her expression incredulous, while Clint muttered, "What the fuck," Under his breath.
Yelena turned back to Natasha, her smirk now positively gleeful. She raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying her sister's discomfort. "Well?" She asked, her tone mockingly sweet.
Natasha let out a long sigh, resting her forehead against her arms on the table. "We really doing this, Yelena?" She asked, her voice muffled.
"Maybe not that far," Yelena acknowledged, though her tone was still light with amusement. "You are my sister after all. But a little humiliation isn't amiss."
Natasha lifted her head, her expression one of weary resignation. "How much more humiliating do you want it? Isn't it enough that I slept with Justin Hammer? That's enough humiliation on its own."
Yelena's expression darkened instantly, her smirk vanishing as storm clouds seemed to gather in her eyes.
Clint, sensing the change in atmosphere, elbowed Natasha sharply. "Uh, I'm no expert on sisterhood," He said under his breath, "but maybe don't make fun of the guy she's with?"
Natasha winced, realizing too late her mistake. "Where's your groveling, Clint?" She snapped back, though her contrite tone betrayed her regret.
Clint glared at her. "I didn't do any because you said - and I quote - 'Let me handle my sister, Clint.'"
Yelena's expression regained its sharp edge as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "So," She said coldly, her voice carrying an undercurrent of amusement. "Where were we? Licking my feet, was it?"
Natasha sighed again, rubbing her temples. "What will it take to get me out of this hole?" She asked straight-up, her tone resigned.
Yelena's grin returned, slow and dangerous, her eyes practically sparkling.
"Fuck," Natasha muttered under her breath, already dreading what was coming.
Clint leaned in slightly, his expression half-exasperated, half-annoyed. "Aren't you supposed to be good at this?" He asked her pointedly.
"Shut up Clint!"
April 2nd, late evening, Moon base one.
The moon base's robotics laboratory was a masterpiece of engineering, and now it was all his. The facility was massive, its walls of reinforced alloys reflecting the cold, sterile glow of artificial lights. In the center of it all lay the dismantled remains of several Sentinels, including what was left of Master Mold, or Calamity, if one cared about its name.
Justin stood before it all, surveying the scattered parts with a keen eye. Around him, his team of brilliant, if eccentric, scientists worked on deciphering every iota of the Sentinels, from programming down to the metallurgy components in their toes. Ivan Vanko, Forge, and Doctor Otto Octavius were all in various stages of examination and disassembly, their hands and minds working in perfect synchronicity.
For Justin, today felt different. There was an undeniable energy in the room, a seamless flow to their efforts that seemed to come from nowhere. His godhood of innovation had been subtly tapped into, and the result was extraordinary. Ideas formed and clicked into place without hesitation. Tools moved with precision, and every piece of the Sentinel seemed to reveal its secrets as if offering itself up willingly.
Justin felt such inspiration, his mind was already awhirl with ideas and possible adaptations, the dominion of innovation stronger for him then it was for those mortals he shared it out with by his presence.
Forge leaned over one of the Sentinel's core processors, his hands a blur as he dismantled its intricate circuitry. "This thing's design is insane," He muttered, his voice tinged with awe. "It's like peeling back the layers of a goddamn onion, and every layer just makes more sense than the last - even if it shouldn't make sense at all, or work, with the technology on hand."
"You sound like little boy, falling in love," Vanko teased, his thick Russian accent slurring slightly. He lifted a bottle of vodka to his lips, taking a hearty swig before setting it down next to a half-disassembled servo mechanism.
Forge didn't miss a beat, his smirk visible even as he worked. "At least my 'love' has a purpose for the betterment of the world. Unlike your obsession with drinking until your brain cells spit out an idea as a desperate bid for survival."
"Vodka good for thinking," Vanko retorted, gesturing grandly with his bottle. "Makes mind loose. Not like you, always so tight now, was better when both drinking, you want drink now?"
Forge snorted. "Yeah, I'll pass. Besides, I don't need liquid courage to deal with my work - or women, like you. You drink a lot more now that you're taken, can't handle it, huh?"
Vanko barked out a laugh. "Women? You mean your hand?" He raised an eyebrow, grinning lecherously. "Do you take out for dinner first?" He mocked.
Forge grinned back, entirely unfazed. "Unlike you, I'm an engineer. The things I can build are better than a woman in every way, pressure, vibration, suction, and most importantly, it doesn't talk."
Doctor Octavius looked disgusted, muttering under his breath, "That was more than I ever wished to know…" His mechanical arms were busy sketching for him as he worked on three different projects at once.
Justin watched the exchange with a bemused smile, even as he tinkered with Calamity's parts. "Are you two done comparing your prowess as men? Or should I order popcorn for the inevitable fight?"
Vanko waved a hand dismissively, returning his attention to the pieces he'd disassembled from the Sentinel. "Let boy talk. He know I better at everything. No need argue."
With the innovation domain spread out across them due to Justin's influence, Vanko, like the others, had already sketched out numerous blueprints based on what they'd found, shooting humanities knowledge of robotics dozens of years forward.
Doctor Octavius, standing on the other side of the room, giving himself some space from the others, let out a sigh. "Why am I even here?" He muttered, his tone exasperated. "I'm surrounded by reprobates. Science is the only language I speak, and it seems wasted in this room."
Vanko looked up from his work, narrowing his eyes at Otto. "Repro-what? You calling names, octopus?"
Otto sighed, adjusting his glasses. "It means degenerates, simpletons. And yes, I'm calling you that, you drunk."
Justin scratched his chin, not even noticing the oil he covered himself in, feeling quite odd about the fact even with the influence hyper charging their scientific abilities - it didn't stop them from putting it aside to focus on being utter asses.
Vanko's face split into a grin as he grabbed his vodka bottle and pointed it at Otto. "Well, octopus, I maybe not know what all means, still going to beat you up for being pussy."
"You're drunk," Otto replied flatly. "I could take you."
Forge, who had been quietly enjoying the exchange, perked up. "Oh, I'm putting fifteen hundred dollars on Vanko," He said eagerly, grinning as he set down his tools.
Otto turned to him with an incredulous expression. "We're not actually fighting. I was simply making an observation on his readiness."
The room fell silent for a moment as Vanko stood abruptly, swaying slightly before ripping off his shirt and letting out a loud roar. "Let's fight, octopussy!" He bellowed, his chest bare and his stance unsteady.
Justin palmed his face at the - property of Zara - tattoo he could see, barely covered by the line of Vanko's lagging sweatpants. His Black Widows did really go the extra mile at times…
Otto froze, his mechanical arms halting their work as he stared at Vanko in disbelief. "This is absurd," He muttered, glancing at Justin for support. "Tell him this is beneath us."
Justin smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh, I believe in you, Otto." He said, not inclined to save him.
The scientist was prone to condescend to the others, so this was long overdue, he felt.
And maybe afterwards, they could go back to the science like what they were here for!
Forge grinned, folding his arms. "So, what's your bet, boss?"
Justin's expression didn't change as he replied casually, "I'm betting on Vanko, of course."
Otto gave him a withering look. "Your belief didn't last long, did it, sir?"
Justin chuckled, shaking his head. "I believe in you plenty, Otto. But when it comes to money, I only pick winners." He tilted his head toward Vanko, who was now shadowboxing clumsily. "And I believe in Vanko more - he's stronger when drunk."
Otto sighed, muttering under his breath about the futility of his situation. As Vanko lunged toward him, Otto's mechanical arms moved with precision, swiping Vanko aside effortlessly and tossed him against the nearest wall. "This is beneath me," Otto said with disdain.
Before anyone could respond, a bottle of vodka soared through the air and struck Otto squarely on the head, shattering and soaking him in the process.
Otto's eye twitched.
April 3rd, 2010, United States of America.
The old pickup truck rattled slightly as it rolled down the narrow country road, dust kicking up behind its tires. The faint smell of oil and aged leather filled the cab, mingling with the quiet hum of the engine. Bucky sat behind the wheel, one hand casually draped over the top, the other resting lightly on the stick shift.
Beside him, Steve sat hunched in the passenger seat, his ball cap pulled low over his face, and his hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of his jacket.
Hammer had given Bucky carte blanche to do what he wished with his old friend. As long as it didn't come back and bite Hammer Industries.
He'd been unsure for a long time about fighting for Hammer, but it seemed the best choice, now even more so. HYDRA was dead, his soul almost at piece with that knowledge, something that couldn't have happened without Hammer.
Not with how deeply HYDRA had entrenched itself in the government's and intelligence apparatuses around the world.
For Steve, the weight of everything he'd missed - and everything that had gone wrong - seemed heavier than ever. Especially after Bucky had shared his point of view, and all that Hammer had done, comparing that to what Steve's 'benefactors' had ever done for the world.
Especially once he found out from his best friend that Peggy hadn't been 'taken' by Hammer as a hostage. She'd been removed for Bucky's sake, and healed of the debilitating disease she'd had.
"Tell me again," Steve said quietly, his voice tinged with both hope and apprehension. "She's okay? She's really okay?"
Bucky glanced at him, his expression softer than usual. "Yeah, Steve. She's more than okay. Panacea works miracles like that." He flexed his metal fingers idly, on the hand he'd refused to let grow back, having kept his metal arm to remind him of his crimes, maybe he was ready now? "Hammer's got his faults, but saving Peggy and others like her? That's worth every fault in my book, Steve."
Steve nodded, his eyes fixed on the horizon. The tension in his shoulders was unmistakable. "It's hard to believe she'd even… Agree to it."
Bucky smirked, shifting gears as the truck climbed a small hill. "You think Peggy Carter wouldn't take the chance to kick death in the teeth? You don't know her as well as you think."
Steve's lips twitched into the faintest of smiles, though it didn't quite reach his eyes, fear shining through. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Still… I'm nervous, Buck. It's been so long. What if…?"
"She'll be glad to see you," Bucky interrupted firmly. Then, after a pause, He added with a wry grin, "After she finishes yelling at you."
Steve let out a soft laugh, but it was laced with anxiety. "Yeah, probably."
The truck hit a bump in the road, and Steve grabbed onto the door handle instinctively. As the vehicle steadied, he turned his gaze to Bucky, his brows furrowing. "So… She's okay with not working with SHIELD anymore? Not trying to save it at all?"
She'd created the organization, it had been half the reason Steve had been so quick to dance to Fury's tune. He'd been helping the organization she built.
Bucky shook his head, his expression darkening slightly. "Nope. She made it real clear she was done with them. Said she'd seen enough to know they couldn't be trusted to exist - not with how they had HYDRA crawling around inside, not after what they did… Or didn't do..."
Steve winced, guilt flickering across his face. "Because of me."
Bucky rolled his eyes, keeping his eyes on the road. "Steve, not everything's about you. SHIELD screwed up on a whole bunch of levels long before you thawed and Peggy hates it. Let's not forget they didn't figure out HYDRA was playing them from the inside for decades. They let Howard die due to that infiltration, and they never came looking for me either, which burns Peggy something fierce now." His grip on the wheel tightened for a moment before he let out a breath. "Peggy saw all that history now, saw how broken it was, and decided she wasn't gonna waste her time fighting for something that wasn't worth saving."
Peggy had been the first to applaud Hammer's complete dismantling of everything she built.
She still didn't like him.
But she respected him.
Which was fair enough. Bucky worked for him, and he didn't like him either. You didn't have time like people to work with them.
Something Steve needed to learn.
Steve slumped back in his seat, his cap shadowing his face even more. "But… Democracy," He said weakly, his voice tinged with that old idealism, coming from a time long gone.
Bucky gave him a sideways look, his expression flat. "Yeah, well, Peggy's seen what 'democracy' brought over the decades too. She's a little more open-minded now. Maybe you should try it."
SHIELD being what they were, their failures, it had really burned any empathy Peggy held for the government's of the world. They'd only succeeded in making everything worse, she'd said once her mind was returned to her.
Steve frowned, but he didn't argue. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the soft hum of the truck's engine. They drove on for a while, the tension thickening with every mile.
Finally, Steve broke the silence, his voice quiet and hesitant. "Is she… Is she going to hate me?"
Bucky's lips curved into a smirk, and he gave Steve a look filled with just a hint of schadenfreude.
"Oh, she is going to kick your ass," Bucky said with relish.
April 10th, 2010, Malibu.
The Malibu workshop was, as always, a playground for genius. Tony Stark's space was an eclectic mix of cutting-edge tech, half-finished experiments, and the lingering smell of ozone from a plasma welder left on as he got distracted by something else.
Holographic displays floated above the workstations, illuminating the space in a cool blue glow that reflected off the metal of the tools and machinery scattered around. Justin worked diligently at one of the workbenches, his eyes darting between Tony and the holograms as they worked on finalizing the designs for the weapons systems that would soon adorn Earth's orbital defense satellites.
With the stock of Pym Particles they had, they'd be able to build and launch a shield around the world in six months or so - if the projections held.
Soon enough, Tony and Banner would dig into solving the Pym Particles, and Justin didn't doubt it for a second that they would. Tony had made time travel work, he could do this.
Justin might even be able to if he leaned heavily into his different domains, but he didn't have the time. Tony had Pepper running his company and life - he had the time.
Justin wasn't entirely sure why Tony had invited him here to begin with. The man still didn't take him seriously as an equal, despite Justin's consistent successes in merging innovation and enterprise. He certainly didn't realize that Justin was flexing his domain over innovation itself to keep pace - because he didn't believe Justin was a god. Without that, matching Tony's rapid-fire thoughts would've been a challenge - even if Justin wasn't about to admit that out loud.
He hadn't souped Tony up on that juice, because he was honestly somewhat afraid that the man would create if he got even better at innovating tech.
Tony, oblivious to any divine intervention, was in his element of course. He was wearing a grease-stained tank top and jeans, his hands moving in a blur as he manipulated a holographic schematic of the satellite. "Alright, Hammer," Tony said without looking up, "Try to keep up."
Justin bit back a retort, focusing instead on the projection in front of him. It was a strong, modular design utilizing vibranium, outfitted with enough weaponry to make any alien invader think twice about messing with Earth. Justin frowned, tweaking a detail in the design. "You're cramming too much power into the particle cannons. They'll overheat before they get through a sustained barrage."
Even with Vibranium, there was only so much bang you could put in something. And it would be a waste to accidentally blow up that much vibranium.
Thankfully, with the world as it was, they were now, together, the sole occupants of the world's vibranium.
Well… Except for Namor, he should really do something about that blowhard soon…
Tony paused, glancing at Justin with a raised eyebrow. "Overheat? Please. This isn't amateur hour. Look -" He expanded the section Justin had adjusted, revealing an intricate cooling system. "These are superconductive heat sinks that with the power of pym particles will fit ten thousand sinks, to prevent issues. They'll keep the cannons cool enough to fire at full capacity for two hours straight."
They didn't have an alien ship to study, but one of these cannons could vaporize a navy battle cruiser in seconds, so it should do something to a spaceship.
Justin studied the design, grudgingly impressed. "Not bad. Two hours should be enough. What happens if the attack lasts longer than that? If it's a blockade?"
Tony grinned, gesturing to a secondary system embedded within the satellite. "Backup cooling. Liquid helium reservoirs, shrunk by the power of the Pym as well. It's a fail-safe in case things get hairy." And cheaper on Pym Particles too, Justin could see.
Justin nodded, conceding the point. "Alright. And what about the missile systems to compliment the other weaponry? Were you able to incorporate my thoughts, or forced to settle for more traditional weapons?"
Tony's grin widened. "Me, settle? Perish the thought. Check this out." He highlighted a series of cylindrical compartments on the satellite's underside. "These aren't just missiles - they're micro-railgun clusters. When fired, they break apart and magnetically accelerate a payload of tungsten rods, each about the size of a pencil at first thanks to - well you know what - flying away at hypersonic speeds. They hit with the force of a small nuke but without the messy fallout, just like you theorized."
Justin let out a low whistle. "That's… horrifyingly delicious, I knew I was a genius. What about power draw? Those missiles will eat through energy like crazy in each firing sequence, it's why I had hesitated over if they were worth it."
Tony waved a hand dismissively. "That's what the arc reactors are for. Each satellite gets its own reactor obviously. They're smallish, but powerful enough to keep everything running smoothly for decades."
And if they could crack Pym Particles quickly, they could afford to seed the satellites with backup arc generators by the dozens through miniaturization.
Justin frowned after a moment, pointing to another section of the schematic. "And the stabilizers? If one of those railgun missiles has a glitch and fires off-center, the satellite's rotation could go haywire."
Tony tapped a spot on the blueprint, pulling up the gyroscopic stabilization system. "Triple redundancies. Even if two stabilizers fail, the satellite will stay steady. And if all three fail? Well, that's why we're building hundreds of these bad boys. Redundancy in numbers."
Justin hummed in thought, shaking his head. "We do good work, but we'll definitely need to get on the Pym Particles immediately, the last half of the satellites could go up ten times as strong if we didn't have to ration particles."
Tony shot him a smug look. "It's me. I'll have it cracked in a week, tops."
Justin leaned closer to the hologram, his fingers dancing over the controls as he made a few minor adjustments, not dignifying Tony with an answer. Especially as he might pull it off. "Okay, let's focus on the laser defense systems? I'm assuming we're going with solid-state?"
Tony nodded, his expression turning serious. "Solid-state lasers, yeah. High-energy, continuous beam. They're perfect for precision strikes against anything fired against the satellite. But we're also integrating free-electron lasers for versatility. Those can be tuned on the fly, letting us adjust the wavelength and energy output depending on the target."
Justin's brow furrowed. "That's ambitious. Free-electron lasers require a lot of space. Can we even fit them onto the satellite before we've cracked Pyms formula?"
Tony grinned, pulling up another schematic. "Miniaturized electron accelerators without pym particles, I was bored last night. It's tight, but it works."
Justin studied the design, his mind racing. "Alright. And targeting systems? You added the backup I asked for in case Nail is somehow shut down?"
Nail could run the defense system by herself, but she'd been bypassed before, so he wasn't taking chances.
"Added a limited AI, yeah," Tony replied. "There's a manual override if we need it. And before you ask, yes, the AI is idiot-proof. I made sure of it."
The two men fell into a comfortable rhythm, bouncing ideas off each other as they refined the designs. The satellites were shaping up to be marvels of engineering - powerful, efficient, and terrifyingly effective.
As the holographic display flickered away for a moment, Justin leaned back, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Alright, Stark. Enough tech talk for a second. How's Pepper doing?"
Tony glanced at him, a small smile playing on his lips. "She's good. Keeps me grounded. Keeps the company running. Honestly, she's the best thing that ever happened to me."
Justin smirked. "Smart, hot as sin, and tough as nails. You really hit the jackpot, didn't you?"
Personally, he had better women, but he wasn't going to rain on Tony's parade.
Tony's smile turned sly. "You don't even know the half of it. Let's just say that heat is even better in the bedroom, there's a reason I'm monogamous now."
Justin raised an eyebrow. "I don't need to know the details, Tony, we both know she wears the pants, you filthy bottom."
Tony laughed, leaning back in his chair. "Your loss, you're just jealous."
Justin shook his head, getting contemplative. "I couldn't do it, though. The whole 'forever' thing. I mean, I'm a god now. imagine the same woman for eternity..."
Tony groaned, rubbing his temples. "You're not a god, Hammer." He broke out two beers from a mini fridge, and tossed one to Justin, "Drink it and shut up, before I regret my life choices."
Justin looked at the beer with disdain. Without a word, he flicked his hand, creating a swirling portal in midair. He reached through, his arm disappearing into the glowing vortex, and pulled back a tropical drink in a coconut shell, complete with a colorful swirly straw.
Tony stared at the drink, then at Justin. "That's not godly. That's just you having freaky powers."
Justin shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. "Call it what you want."
Tony's eyes flicked back to the drink, then to Justin. "Okay, fine. Where's mine?"
Justin rolled his eyes and created another portal, reaching through to retrieve a second coconut drink. An indignant "Hey!" echoed faintly from the other side of the portal before it snapped shut.
"Don't tell Pepper you can grab alcohol from anywhere," Tony said as he grabbed the drink. "She'll totally ruin this playdate." He slurped loudly through the straw, leaning back with a satisfied sigh.
Justin smirked. "Whipped."
Tony's expression darkened comically even as his lips twitched, and then, without warning, he hurled a nearby wrench at Justin's head. The wrench struck Justin squarely on the forehead - and broke in two.
Tony stared at the broken pieces on the floor, his coconut drink frozen halfway to his lips. "You broke my favorite wrench." He complained.
From the speakers, Jarvis chimed in, his tone dry as ever. "Sir, you retrieved that wrench from a drawer filled with dozens of identical wrenches."
Tony pointed at the shattered remains. "But it was my favorite." He whined.
Jarvis warbled out a sigh. "Sir, we order a new drawer of wrenches every month." He reminded.
Justin chuckled, shaking his head. "Also, for the record, I didn't break it. You did."
Tony gestured at him with his drink, looking affronted. "It wasn't broken when it left my hand."
Justin gave him a bemused look. "Throwing things at a god means you lose them. It's a rule."
Tony slammed a hand down on the workbench, his coconut drink sloshing slightly. "You know what? Fine. I'm going to reform. Join the Church of Hammer. I could probably make high priest in a month with a few well-placed donations, if this is a thing now, I'll go all the way, how about that?."
Justin choked on his drink in horror.
The next day, Hammerhaven.
The spacious living room of Justin's penthouse was bathed in a warm, dim light, the kind meant for relaxation rather than business. The oversized screen on the far wall had just begun to scroll with the credits of a high-budget sci-fi flick, the score swelling dramatically as the audience - Justin, Domino, Yelena, and Eileen - sat in varying states of relaxation.
Domino and Eileen were comfortably curled up together on one of the couches, Domino's head resting lazily on Eileen's shoulder, her dark hair splayed against the other woman's pale neck. Eileen absently twirled a strand of Domino's hair between her fingers, her legs tucked up underneath her. Across the room, Justin and Yelena occupied the other couch, their postures less intertwined but no less comfortable. Yelena leaned back with her arms crossed, her feet tucked up on the cushions, while Justin reclined with one arm slung over the back of the couch.
The movie's dramatic final notes faded into softer, reflective tones as the credits rolled. Justin, ever the workaholic even during downtime, let out a contemplative hum that immediately put the others on edge.
"You know," He began, his tone casual but carrying the weight of one of his infamous ideas, "We really ought to rename Earth."
The room instantly tensed, though Justin didn't notice. Domino stiffened slightly in Eileen's arms, and Yelena glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, her brow furrowing. Eileen's fingers froze mid-motion, her eyes darting to Domino's with a silent look that screamed, Oh no, here we go.
"What's wrong with Earth?" Yelena asked, trying to sound uninterested as she studied him.
Justin shrugged, staring up at the ceiling like the question had been bothering him for weeks. "It's just… Not dignified. A planet like this, under my leadership? It deserves something better. Something unique."
Hammertopia? HammerPrime? He'd have to workshop it.
Domino let out a nervous laugh, breaking the silence. "You're serious about this? Isn't Earth, like… Fine? Everyone knows it as Earth."
"Thor said others in the galaxy call it Terra," Eileen offered carefully, her voice measured as though she were navigating a minefield.
Justin turned that over in his head, his lips twitching in mild consideration. "Terra… It has a certain ring to it. But it doesn't sound special enough. Not for what we're building here."
The panicked looks were back, Domino shooting Eileen a quick what do we do? glance. Eileen, ever the composed one, tried again. "It might be bad luck to name it now," She said smoothly. "You know, when technically it's not all yours yet. Russia and China are still holding out, and then there's the whole Middle East situation…"
Domino latched onto the idea like a lifeline. "Exactly! You don't want to jinx it. Wait until you've got the whole thing sewn up before you start slapping your name on it."
Justin glanced between the two of them, his expression bemused, as though he couldn't quite understand why they were trying to talk him out of this. "I've already won," He said with a slight smirk. "It's fine. They'll fold eventually. I just need to think of the right name…"
"Let's go," Yelena cut in abruptly, rising from her seat and grabbing Justin's hand.
Justin blinked, caught off guard. "Go where?"
"Bedroom. Now." Yelena's tone left no room for argument.
Justin tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly. "What's gotten into you? We're in the middle of -"
"Now," Yelena said firmly, her eyes narrowing with determination. "I'll wear the outfit you like." She coaxed, "With the tail too…"
That stopped him in his tracks. A flicker of understanding crossed his face, followed by a slow grin. "You drive a hard bargain, Yelena," He murmured, standing and letting her lead him toward the hallway.
As they disappeared around the corner, Yelena glanced back at Domino and Eileen, her expression screaming - you owe me for this.
The door clicked shut behind them, leaving the two women alone in the living room. Domino exhaled loudly, her body sagging against Eileen in exaggerated relief. "Crisis averted."
Eileen snorted softly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "For now."
Domino tilted her head back to look up at Eileen, her dark eyes glittering with mischief. "You know, we should really thank sex for its tireless service. Saved us all from living on Hammeropolis or something."
Eileen raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching as she tried to suppress a laugh. "And how exactly do you propose we thank sex?"
Domino didn't answer with words. Instead, she leaned up and pressed her lips to Eileen's, her kiss slow and teasing, a murmur slipping through their joined mouths. "I have a few ideas."
Meanwhile, San Francisco.
Darren Cross moved through the grand halls of his mansion with a storm of frustration swirling inside him. The ornate architecture, all sharp angles and gleaming surfaces, only served to irritate him further at the moment. Everything was pristine, flawless, but it felt hollow - a reflection of the control he no longer had over his life.
"Frozen out," Darren muttered under his breath, his voice a low growl as he marched toward the basement. "Stark, Banner, and Hammer think they can sideline me? Take my work? Take what I've built?" His jaw clenched, his hand tightening around the paper coffee cup he carried. The bitter liquid was lukewarm now, but he barely noticed. "I'll show them. I'll remind them why Darren Cross isn't someone to underestimate."
He reached the staircase leading down to his private vault, a spiral of polished steel. The faint hum of hidden security systems buzzed in the background, a sound Darren usually found comforting. Tonight, it felt oppressive. He paused briefly, setting the coffee cup on the ledge beside the first security checkpoint.
"Authorization: Darren Cross," He said flatly, placing his hand on the biometric scanner. A faint blue light swept over his palm, and the door clicked open with a soft hiss. He glanced at the cup as the door slid aside, intending to pick it back up once he stepped through.
But when he turned to grab it, the cup was gone.
Darren blinked, frowning. "What the…?" He scanned the ledge, but there was nothing there. For a moment, he stood frozen, confusion knitting his brow. "I must've forgotten it upstairs," He muttered, shaking his head. The thought didn't sit right - he was certain he'd brought it down - but he dismissed it, pushing through the door.
The second checkpoint required a retinal scan. Darren leaned forward, aligning his eye with the scanner. A red beam flickered across his iris, and a soft chime confirmed his identity. The door slid open, revealing a narrow corridor lined with metallic walls and glowing floor panels, doorways leading to different rooms holding his experiments with the pym particles.
He walked briskly, his footsteps muffled on the carpeted floor. As he moved, he glanced back over his shoulder, a habit born of years of paranoia. The hallway behind him was empty, he was sure of it, so why did he feel so… He quickened his pace, dismissing the uneasy feeling growing in his chest.
The third checkpoint loomed ahead: a massive, reinforced door that required a numbered code, a secondary handprint scan, and a vocal command with a separate passcode. Darren approached it with the confidence of routine, entering the code with practiced precision. His palm pressed against the scanner, the cold surface smooth beneath his touch as he spoke loudly and clearly,
"Hope Van Dyne." His voice steady despite the faint prickle of unease at the back of his neck.
The door unlocked with a mechanical thunk, the heavy bolts retracting as the circular portal slid open. Darren stepped inside his vault, exhaling slowly as the familiar sight of his sanctuary greeted him. Shelves lined the walls, meticulously organized with notes, prototypes, and fragments of his research. At the center of the room stood the safe - a gleaming behemoth of reinforced steel that housed his most valuable possession - the Ant-Man suit.
Darren moved toward the workbench, his eyes scanning the neatly arranged tools and components. He ran a hand over the cool surface, picking up a small device - a prototype he'd been tinkering with for weeks. It was light in his hand, its polished surface glinting under the overhead lights.
But when he set it down and turned away, he heard a faint clink. He froze, his brow furrowing. Turning back to the workbench, he stared at the spot where the device had been. It was gone.
"What the hell?" Darren muttered, his voice tinged with irritation. He glanced around the room, his eyes darting to the shelves and the floor. "Where did it go?"
Had he been mistaken?
He stepped back, scanning the room more thoroughly. His gaze lingered on the doorway for a moment, but there was nothing - no sign of intrusion, no flicker of movement. Shaking his head, he let out a frustrated sigh. "I'm overtired," He muttered, rubbing his temples. "That's all. I'm just… Tired."
As he walked toward the safe, the feeling of unease deepened. He couldn't shake the sensation that he was being watched. The air felt heavier, charged with something he couldn't identify. Darren forced himself to focus, entering the code for the safe with deliberate precision. The lock disengaged with a soft click, and the door swung open.
Inside, the Ant-Man suit gleamed under the lights, its black and red design a holdover from when Hank gave it to him, he'd have to change it of course, so it fit better with Darren's brilliance. He smiled faintly, his earlier frustration momentarily eclipsed by pride. "They think they can push me out," He murmured, reaching toward the suit. "But they don't understand the power I -"
A faint noise behind him made him freeze. It was subtle, like the whisper of fabric brushing against metal. Darren turned sharply, his heart pounding as his eyes swept the room. Nothing. The space was as still and silent as it had been moments ago.
"Get a grip," He muttered, exhaling sharply. He turned back to the safe, his hand reaching for the suit - only to find the compartment empty.
His stomach dropped. The suit was gone.
"No, no, no," Darren whispered, his voice rising with panic. He stepped back, his eyes darting around the room. "It was just here! It was right here!"
He grabbed at his belt, fumbling for the gun he always carried since Hope and Hank both died so close together. But when his hand touched the holster, it was empty. Darren's heart raced as he stared down at the bare leather strap. "What the hell is going on?" He muttered, his voice shaking.
A flicker of movement caught his eye, and he turned toward the workbench. The device he'd been holding earlier was back, sitting neatly where he'd left it. Darren took a step closer, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against the smooth surface.
Another noise - this time from the safe. Darren spun around, his pulse thundering in his ears. The Ant-Man suit was back, resting in the safe as if it had never been gone.
Darren stared at it, his chest heaving. His mind raced, desperately trying to rationalize what was happening. "I'm hallucinating," He said aloud, his voice cracking. "I've been working too hard. That's all this is."
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself. When he opened them again, the suit was gone again.
"What is happening!?" Darren screamed, his voice echoing through the vault.
A soft, mocking laugh answered him.
Same night, Hammer's Space station.
The office space aboard the Hammer space station had a sprawling view of Earth framed by reinforced glass. Justin lounged in a high-backed chair, his fingers steepled under his chin as he reviewed a holographic map hovering over his desk. Next to him, Sunil Bakshi leaned forward, his sharp suit impeccable as always, as he processed Information through his mental implant.
"Reports from the western border indicate NATO has Russia boxed in nicely," Sunil said, his voice clipped and professional. "The economic sanctions are bleeding them, but they've been relying heavily on whatever resources they can trade with China. And on China's side -" He gestured at the eastern section of the map, glowing faintly with overlays of military activity, " - India, Japan, South Korea, and the U.S. are holding the line blocking them in. For now."
Justin nodded, his expression unreadable as he studied the map. "China and Russia propping each other up, huh? Like two drunks leaning on each other to stay upright." He leaned back in his chair, his tone laced with dry amusement. "It's almost poetic."
"Perhaps," Sunil allowed, adjusting his tie. "But it's effective. They're coordinating logistics and funneling resources to each other. It's keeping their regimes afloat."
Justin's lip curled into a faint smirk. "It won't last. You can only gun down so many protesters before the dam breaks. Civil unrest is a slow burn, but eventually, it'll consume them."
Sunil's brows knit together as he considered Justin's words. "We could expedite that process," He offered carefully. "Position ourselves, help the rebels succeed. Step in when things get to a head, and we'll have an easier time installing regimes that answer to us."
Justin let out a soft chuckle, the sound devoid of warmth. "Saviors? Sunil, we'll be seen as saviors no matter when we step in. The world has a short memory and a long history of bending the knee to whoever's left standing." He waved a dismissive hand. "No need to waste money and resources playing the hero here. Let the ingrates stew in their mess until they're desperate for a helping hand and beg us to take over."
Before Sunil could respond, the room's ambient lighting shifted faintly, signaling an unexpected intrusion. Justin straightened slightly, his keen eyes narrowing. In a shimmer of golden light, a figure materialized in the room. Tall and regal, Lady Frejya exuded an effortless grace, her flowing robes shifting like liquid starlight. Her smile was warm, but the sharp glint in her eyes suggested a depth of mischief that instantly put Justin on alert.
Justin rose slowly, smoothing the lapels of his suit. "Lady Frejya…" His tone was cautious but respectful.
"Relax, Mr. Hammer," Frejya said, her melodic voice tinged with amusement. She raised a hand in a placating gesture. "I'm only a projection. I haven't broken into your little fortress." She winked, the gesture almost playful.
He didn't trust a woman who came to him like this, all smiles and playfulness. Something was definitely wrong. She was even worse than she'd been at the negotiations, when they'd met in person.
He really wished Thor would pick up his balls and really be King. Then he could negotiate so much easier.
Sunil, who had frozen the moment she appeared, glanced toward Justin, silently seeking permission to excuse himself. Justin gave a small shake of his head, his attention firmly on Frejya.
"What can I do for you, Lady Frejya?" Justin asked, his voice even.
Frejya's smile widened slightly as she clasped her hands before her. "I wanted to inform you that my son, Thor, has taken possession of a rather sizable Ravager vessel. He will be bringing it to Midgard as part of our arrangement. It should arrive within a month."
Justin inclined his head. "I never doubted you would honor the deal," He said smoothly. "Thank you for the update."
Frejya's smile took on a mischievous edge, her eyes twinkling. "There's another matter I wanted to discuss," She said, her tone casual yet pointed.
Justin raised an eyebrow, his unease carefully masked. "And what would that be?"
Frejya's grin grew as she tilted her head slightly. "Your relationship with Hela."
Justin's carefully neutral expression faltered, his jaw tightening imperceptibly. "There is no relationship with Hela," He said carefully, his words measured.
Frejya chuckled, a rich, warm sound that carried a hint of amusement. "Carnal relationships often evolve into more," She said with a knowing smile.
Justin's eyebrow twitched, and his voice dipped with irritation. "What favor would I need to grant to be allowed to pluck Heimdall's eyeballs out?" He asked dryly.
Goddamn voyeur.
Frejya's laughter bubbled forth, genuine and unrestrained. "Ah, don't be upset, Heimdall can't help but see all." She didn't answer his question, taking amusement from his irritation.
Justin exhaled sharply, his shoulders stiff. "I assume Heimdall also felt the need to share any other observations."
Frejya gave a small shrug, her smile turning enigmatic. "He is thorough in his duties."
He would have to find a way around that…
Before Justin could respond again, Frejya's expression shifted, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. "But all of that, is not why I'm here. I must admit, I'm curious about something."
Justin nodded slowly, his wariness growing. "Of course, Lady Frejya. Ask away."
Her smile was as sharp as it was serene, her gaze steady. "What part of the deal to keep Hela on Midgard entails tasking her with roaming the cosmos?"
Justin's polished demeanor slipped for the briefest of moments. Sunil, who had been doing his best to remain inconspicuous, suddenly looked like he wished he could evaporate.
Justin's lips pressed into a thin line. "Heimdall again?"
Frejya simply nodded, her eyes closing as her smile turned razor-sharp, a picture of divine amusement laced with danger.
Author's Note:
I know nothing about weapons, I'm making shit up after a quick Google search, don't hassle me with weapons don't work like that or something.
And yes, somehow, Justin and Tony are friends. Who saw that coming first few chapters of this story?
Justin is going to lose it if he's made godfather of Tony's kid.
Jean is now fully on board the Hammer express, having left the X-men completely.
We still probably have months of this to go, needing to wrap up Thanos and everything else - but story is definitely on the home stretch I think.
Cheers
Jollyhippopotamus
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All hail Pope Anthony Edwards Stark the First of His Name of the Church of Hammer!
- Location
- Germany
The Part where you don't want her to wreck Midgard.
Now imagine that because Tony becomes the Hammer-Pope, he mainlines the divine inovation juice.
Consequence: Technopriesthood instead of Ultron!
But aren't they in public..... Oh right that's the point
HA!
Shots fired, shots fired.
And Justin strikes.
😂
And Tony strikes back!
No. Don't.
Someone stop him.
Thank you Yelena!
Yes they can
- Location
- The Internet?
Thanks for the update!
C'mon, Justin, you coulda been a bit more sneaky about it! Of course, then you'd have Freijya at your door and angry still, it would just be after the fact.
There ought to be little quotes, right?
The Galactic markets have really opened up after same day shipping to HamazonPrime started.
And we're certain about that? This is soft confirmation, or it's Terra, firma?
This feels like Mysterio shenanigans. Did Justin poach Beck from Tony at some point?
Thor dropped the ball on his balls dropping?
Honestly, this bill was ready to come due for awhile. It's tough to think of a way to chat about their plans for Hela without Heimdall overheari- Oh wait, their mind-to-mind implants!
C'mon, Justin, you coulda been a bit more sneaky about it! Of course, then you'd have Freijya at your door and angry still, it would just be after the fact.Heimdall is all-seeing, but his reporting is... selective.
Chapter 48: Hearts and Minds. Mostly Minds.
New
Here's chapter 48: Hearts and Minds. Mostly Minds.
Here it is, the perennial winner on patron, can't lose apparently.
You'll find out who was torturing poor innocent Cross. At least he won't end up as a pathetic floating head flashing his ass in this one.
And someone who hasn't been around for a looong while makes a reappearance. A few someone's actually.
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc.
Hope you enjoy.
The shimmering projection of Lady Frejya remained as poised and regal as ever, her presence filling the room with an air of divine authority. Her expression, however, was anything but serene. The faint furrow in her brow and the sharpness in her gaze spoke volumes about her displeasure. Justin met her gaze evenly, his usual charm replaced with a cool, almost indifferent demeanor. Sunil Bakshi, seated quietly at a small table near the corner, kept his head down, doing his best to fade into the background, but wholly attentive.
"You're telling me," Frejya began, her voice calm but laced with steel, "That this… arrangement of yours, includes allowing Hela to roam the galaxy as a marauder? And you do not see this as breaking our accord?"
Justin raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching into a faint smirk. "That's exactly what I'm saying," He replied, his tone firm. "The spirit of the agreement was to keep her away from Asgard and under control. Sending her out to be a pirate does both, in a way that suits both our needs."
Frejya's eyes narrowed, her posture stiffening slightly. "Under control?" She repeated, her tone laced with polite disbelief. "Hela let loose, will leave a trail of death and destruction wherever she goes. And you think this satisfies the terms of our agreement?"
"It does," He said firmly. "The alternative was keeping her on Earth, where the lack of bloodshed would have driven her mad in record time - or more likely - made her lash out and start a war. You wanted her off Asgard; I want her where she can't endanger Earth, something I made very clear when we negotiated this accord. This solution achieves both."
Frejya's expression darkened almost imperceptibly, her regal facade slipping just enough to reveal the frustration simmering beneath. "And in doing so, you unleash her upon the galaxy, a weapon of chaos with your blessing. Do you not see how this undermines the trust we placed in you?"
Justin's jaw tightened, and his smirk faded. "Trust?" He echoed, his tone taking on an edge. "With all due respect, Lady Frejya, everything we've done - I've done - has been to defend Earth. We have not been the aggressors in this relationship." He told her, reminding her of their invasion, "We struck a deal, it had nothing to do with trust, you simply wished to use us. You've paid for that pleasure, but you did not pay enough to have us suffer through her insanity indefinitely. Earth's defense trumps everything."
Like he'd said, the spirit of the agreement was to keep her off Asgard, and they were achieving that, so Justin wasn't about to let himself be bent over for this - Earth wasn't the weak supplicant of Asgard…
Frejya tilted her head, her sharp gaze never leaving his. "Then explain to me," She said, her voice suddenly as cold as a winter's night, "How Hela's reaving across the galaxy constitutes defense!"
Justin got up and stepped around his desk, closer to her projection, his movements slow and deliberate. "Because Hela needs bloodshed as much as she needs air," He said bluntly. "And if she doesn't get it out there, she'll look for it here. Is that what you want? Hela rampaging across Earth, or worse, finding her way back to Asgard? I'm giving her an outlet that keeps her occupied and far away from places she can do real harm."
Frejya's lips pressed into a thin line, her silence speaking volumes. Justin pressed on, his voice rising slightly. "And let's not pretend she's going to be out there targeting innocents. Pirates, slave traders, scum of the universe. Are you saying you care more for them than the safety of Asgardian citizens?"
Because if Hela was left to languish, she'd definitely return to her goal of conquering Asgard and killing Odin.
Frejya's nostrils flared slightly, but she didn't immediately respond. Her silence was heavy, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. Sunil shifted uncomfortably in his chair, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the table in front of him, while Justin kept his cool.
"I understand your logic," Frejya said finally, her tone measured but still icy. "But that does not mean I am comfortable with it. You are sacrificing untold lives with this gambit, this is not what we agreed on."
Justin's expression hardened, his usual charm replaced with a steely resolve. "Then tell me," He said, his voice low and firm, "What's your better idea? If you've got a solution that keeps Hela in check without putting Earth - or Asgard - at risk, I'm all ears."
He already knew she had none, that's why they'd dumped Hela on him, after all.
There was some minute risk to challenging Asgard in this way. But his gut told him Frejya did not want a war. So it limited the amount of pressure she could put on him. Their alliance would be profitable to them both, she wouldn't end it over the death of pirates, not if she believed Hela would stay away from Asgard.
And from her light poking at him over his 'relationship' with Hela, she believed, like he did, that her obsession would bring her back to Earth, instead of seeking Asgard.
Frejya's gaze bore into him, unflinching and unyielding. The room fell into a heavy silence as the two stared each other down, a battle of wills playing out without a single word spoken. Sunil held his breath, feeling as though even the smallest sound might shatter the fragile equilibrium, even as he catalogued Asgards ruler's expressions for her file, for use in future negotiations.
After what felt like an eternity, Frejya's expression softened - just barely. She inclined her head ever so slightly, her eyes glinting with a new, unreadable emotion. "Thor will have your ship within the month," She said slowly, her tone carrying a hint of reluctant respect. "Consider this matter settled... For now. At our next negotiation, I will expect due consideration for this bending of the accord…"
And with that, her projection faded into nothingness, leaving the room feeling emptier than it had moments before.
Sunil exhaled softly, breaking the silence that followed. "She doesn't see us as quite as quaint as before, sir," He said quietly, his voice carefully neutral.
Justin smirked faintly, though there was little humor in it. "About time they see us as more than slightly evolved pets," He muttered.
Within a year, two at the most. Asgard would be their lesser, not even Odin able to make up the difference.
He'd have to send a message to the Ancient One though…
Heimdall was becoming a problem.
Fort Moore, Georgia.
The sound of Bradley Doyle's boots echoed softly in the empty hallway as he walked toward the briefing room. Everything felt different now - different from what it had been just a few months ago, before Justin Hammer had swept in and taken control of not just the military, but the entire country.
Bradley clenched his fists at his sides as he approached the door, his thoughts racing. He'd served for over a decade, disdaining climbing the ranks, remaining as a corporal, as he refused to leave his brothers behind. He was meant to be on the ground, not behind a desk, after all.
He'd seen a lot of changes in leadership over the years. But this? This was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. The United States wasn't the United States anymore. The stars and stripes still flew over some buildings, sure, but everyone knew the truth - the country was now a cog in the Hammer Federation.
Their president wasn't even god damn American anymore! Sure they'd slapped a citizenship on him, but that's just not how things were done in good old America, before all this bullshit.
Bradley had resisted the idea, still did, even if he could do nothing but grouse about it. Hammer wasn't elected. He wasn't a general duly appointed, or a president - hell, the man wasn't even a politician - the less said about president Bakshi, the better.
Justin Hammer was the real ruler of America now… He was a tech mogul who had somehow managed to unite the world - Bradley still wasn't sure how that had happened so quickly - tearing down governments and absorbing them into his corporate empire. It was surreal, like something out of one of those dystopian sci-fi movies he used to watch with his buddies during downtime.
Bradley paused outside the briefing room, staring at the Hammer Industries logo etched into the glass door. A sleek "H" in gold stamped on a globe. The symbol of a new world order. His stomach twisted. This isn't what I signed up for, he thought.
But what could he do? He was one man, just a cog in a much larger machine. Resisting wasn't an option - not when the Hammer Federation was already so vast, so overwhelming in its reach. Besides, there were… Benefits. The world was more stable than it had ever been. Crime rates were down. Wars between nations were a thing of the past, barring Russia and China. Poverty and hunger were on the brink of eradication.
So why does this feel wrong? Bradley shook his head, clearing the thought as he pushed open the door and stepped inside.
He knew why it felt wrong.
You could put all the lipstick on a pig you wanted - it didn't change the fact it was a pig.
America should not be like this. World peace was not worth their freedoms being taken away.
…
The briefing was short and to the point. They were being reorganized. The military as he knew it was being stripped down and rebuilt from the ground up. Everyone, from the greenest recruits to the most seasoned officers, would undergo retraining. They'd be learning to use Hammer tech, integrating it into every facet of their operations. And it wouldn't be a simple classroom experience - they were introducing a VR program that would immerse them completely.
Bradley didn't understand what that meant at first. He nodded along with his commanding officer's explanation, pretending to follow, but it wasn't until he was escorted to the VR pods that the reality began to sink in. Rows of sleek pods lined the walls of a cavernous warehouse, each one humming faintly with energy. Soldiers climbed inside one by one, their expressions a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
The instructors warned them that the simulations were deeply immersive - time-dilated, they called it - and that they'd feel as though they spent years inside the program.
Some soldiers weren't impressed, recognizing that this was technology used in prisons. But in the end, they were soldiers, and if the brass had signed off on this, all they could do was complete the training to the best of their abilities.
When it was his turn, Bradley hesitated. He stood before the open pod, staring at the padded interior filled with some sort of gel. The tech looked almost alien, with glowing circuits running along the edges and a visor-like mechanism that would cover his eyes once he was inside.
"Doyle," His CO barked. "Get in. It's not optional."
Bradley swallowed hard, nodding as he climbed inside. The pod hissed shut around him, sealing him in darkness. For a moment, he panicked, his heart hammering against his ribs. Then the visor lowered, and everything changed.
…
The first thing Bradley noticed was the sun. It was blindingly bright, beating down on him with an intensity that made his skin prickle. He squinted, raising a hand to shield his eyes, and realized he was standing in the middle of a desert. He looked down at himself, startled to see that he was wearing a suit of futuristic armor, the Hammer Industries logo emblazoned on the chest plate.
"What the hell?" He muttered, turning in a slow circle.
The desert stretched endlessly in every direction, but he wasn't alone. A squad of soldiers stood nearby, all clad in similar armor. They looked at him expectantly, their faces unfamiliar hidden by the face masks and visors, but somehow familiar at the same time.
"Doyle," One of them called out. "You good?"
Bradley blinked. He knew that voice. It belonged to Rodriguez, one of his squadmates back in the real world. But this didn't feel like a simulation. The heat of the sun, the grit of the sand under his boots - it was all too real.
Before he could respond, the comms in his helmet crackled to life. "Doyle, get your head in the game. We've got hostiles inbound. Move!"
The next few hours were a blur of action. Bradley fought alongside his squad, learning how to use the new Hammer tech through trial and error. The suit enhanced his strength and reflexes, making him faster, stronger, and deadlier than he'd ever been before. The weapons were unlike anything he'd used in his military career - energy rifles that fired precise, devastating beams of light; drones that deployed with a flick of his wrist, providing aerial support; and grenades that emitted EMP pulses, disabling enemy equipment in an instant.
For what felt like decades, he lived a second life. The VR world was utterly convincing - the heat of explosions, the recoil of Hammer's advanced plasma rifles, the tension of planning operations against simulated enemies. He was taught to use Hammer's technology not through lectures or manuals but by doing. He piloted drones, navigated orbital strikes, and fought beside enhanced units that moved with superhuman speed. He didn't just learn tactics - he lived them.
Not all of it was fighting either, they dealt with disaster relief, aid work, and other tasks that would safeguard their fellow man. They were kept so busy, that the few lectures and classes they were forced to take inside the VR world, was almost a relief.
In the program, Bradley experienced triumph and failure. He fought and died countless times, the pain and adrenaline as real as if he were on an actual battlefield. But each death was a lesson, and he emerged stronger, more skilled, more attuned to Hammer's way of warfare - to fighting superhumans - to being superhuman - to using HammerTech power armor. He did it all.
By the time the simulation ended, Bradley felt like he'd spent at least a decade in that world. When the visor lifted and the pod hissed open, he stumbled out, blinking in the harsh fluorescent light of the warehouse. His legs felt weak, his mind disoriented.
"How long…?" He croaked, his voice hoarse.
"Thirty days," His CO said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Welcome back, Doyle. You've completed the Patriot program."
Thirty days. A single month. Bradley stared at his hands, his mind reeling. It didn't seem possible. How could thirty days feel like years? And yet… It made sense. He felt different. More certain of his purpose.
Changes had swept through the military with efficiency that bordered on ruthlessness during his time under. Old units were disbanded, ranks and designations shuffled. The insignias of the U.S. Armed Forces were replaced with the logo of Hammer Industries. Gone were the stars and stripes on his uniform; in their place was the symbol of the Hammer Federation and Hammer Industries.
Having spent a decade fighting under that same flag, it felt… Right.
…
Later that day, Bradley sat in the mess hall with Rodriguez and the rest of his squad. The room buzzed with conversation, the sound of laughter and clinking trays filling the air. Monitors mounted on the walls displayed the latest news, and Bradley's attention was drawn to a report about unrest in western Russia.
"Parts of western Russia have risen in rebellion against Moscow," The anchor said. "The rebels are demanding that Russia join the Hammer Federation, citing a desire for unity and progress. We at Fox news are happy to see the Russian people taking the steps to unite under the light of Hammer, our thoughts and prayers go out to them."
"Serves them right," Rodriguez said, smirking as he shoveled food into his mouth. "Those alien lovers thought they could stand against Hammer. Now their own people are turning on them."
Bradley nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He felt a swell of pride as he watched the report. The Hammer Federation was unstoppable. It wasn't just a government - it was a force of nature, reshaping the world for the better. Finally, Russia was seeing that.
Hopefully the Chinese would stop being stubborn too, or the United Federation Armed Forces - the replacement for Nato, this time with the entire world joined up - would have to show them what's what.
"You know," Bradley said, glancing around the table. "We've got everything here. Training facilities, top-tier tech, even the best food I've ever had in the military. But there's one thing we're missing."
"What's that?" Rodriguez asked.
"A chapel," Bradley said seriously. "For Hammer. I mean, he's not just a man. He's… More than that. Feels wrong not to have a place to honor him."
Rodriguez nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. We should bring it up to command. Bet they'd listen."
Bradley felt pleased. It would be wrong not to show their respect to the man, no, the God, they owed everything to.
…
A few days later, Bradley found himself strapped to a gurney in the infirmary. He stared up at the ceiling, his heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement. This was it - the next step. The super-soldier serum.
The medics worked efficiently, prepping him and the others in his squad. The serum was a weaker version of what had been used on Captain America, but it was still revolutionary. It would make them stronger, faster, and tougher than any soldier in history, it was even mixed with a stronger version of Panacea called Extremis. Which would give them regeneration!
When the needle pierced his skin, Bradley gritted his teeth, bracing himself for the pain. It came almost immediately, a searing heat spreading through his veins. He gasped, his muscles tensing as the serum worked its way through his body. The pain was intense, but there was something else - something deeper. A fire ignited within him, a sense of purpose that burned brighter than ever.
For Hammer. For the Federation. For Unity and Humanity!
…
The day of deployment arrived with an air of anticipation. Bradley stood with his squadron, their newly issued Hammer power armor gleaming under the hangar lights. The soldiers moved with purpose, their steps synchronized as they marched toward the glowing orange portals that flickered to life before them.
The portal operators were women clad in leather uniforms that hugged their forms tightly, their smirks suggestive as they watched the soldiers pass. One of the operators, her crimson hair glowing like fire in the portal light, winked at Bradley. "March on, boys," She said, her voice low and teasing. "Hammer's watching."
Bradley's chest swelled with pride as he led his squad through the portal. They emerged in a dense jungle, the air thick with humidity and the calls of strange, alien creatures echoing around them.
The Savage Lands. The briefing had been clear - pacify the locals, retrieve any advanced technology, and bring the region under Federation control.
The Geneva convention had been revoked, there was no need for humanity to weaken itself against alien threats, only humans deserved rights.
Bradley tightened his grip on his plasma rifle, his eyes scanning the lush landscape as his squad fanned out around him. They moved with precision, their enhanced senses attuned to every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs.
This was their purpose now. To bring order to the chaos. To serve Hammer and the Federation, until one day it could be an Empire of humanity.
Bradley smiled beneath his helmet, the weight of his weapon reassuring in his hands. Together, they would succeed. They were blessed by Hammer, after all. And no one could stand against them.
The dense, humid jungle of the Savage Lands was alive with the sounds of chirping insects, distant growls, and the rustle of leaves stirred by unseen creatures. Even in the encroaching darkness of twilight, the air carried a sense of danger and mystery. Mystique, dressed in the uniform of a Hammer Federation captain, moved with practiced ease, her steps purposeful and confident. Her assumed form, that of a rugged, no-nonsense officer, was flawless, down to the faint scar tracing her cheek and the dirtiness of the uniform and armor, denoting she'd been in a scuffle.
She'd seen the man leave to inspect another camp, and taken his form for this, knowing how eager to please soldier boys were in front of the people able to dispatch them to constant latrine duty.
She adjusted the brim of the cap slightly, letting the shadow cast over her borrowed face add to the authority she projected. Her eyes scanned the area, taking in the camp ahead. Soldiers in Hammer-tech armor patrolled the perimeter, their movements efficient. Portable floodlights bathed the area in light, illuminating the path towards the camp.
This wouldn't be easy, but Mystique had infiltrated tighter operations than this. Her lips curved into a slight smirk, the satisfaction of slipping past two earlier patrols adding confidence to her stride. The disguise was perfect. All she needed was to get into the command tent, extract the information she required, and disappear before anyone knew she'd been there.
With that information in hand, She'd be able to infiltrate the main base, and escape back into the wider world with information worth selling to whoever was interested - and someone was always interested.
As she approached the outer perimeter, a squad of soldiers intercepted her, their armor reflecting the floodlights. Their rifles were slung low but at the ready, and their faces were obscured by their armored helmets. The leader of the group stepped forward, a red targeting lens flickering to life over one eye.
"Captain," The soldier said, his voice filtered through a modulator. "You're early. And on foot. Where is your squad?"
Mystique didn't hesitate, her posture rigid, her voice sharp. "At ease, Corporal. I'm here on special orders from HQ, my squad was ambushed and I barely got away. Stand aside and let me through."
The soldiers didn't move.
A flicker of unease tickled the back of Mystique's mind, but she squashed it. She kept her tone brisk, authoritative. "Did you not hear me? I'm on a tight schedule. Stand down and let me proceed, or I'll have your entire squad reassigned to latrine duty for insubordination."
The corporal tilted his head slightly, his helmet hiding whatever expression he wore. Behind him, the other soldiers shifted their stances, weapons clicking as they were adjusted ever so slightly.
Mystique clenched her jaw but maintained her facade, pushing forward with more bluster. This has to work, they're just jarheads. "HQ doesn't tolerate delays, and neither do I. If you have a problem, take it up with your CO. Now move aside."
The corporal let her finish her tirade before speaking again, his tone dripping with disdain. "You done?"
Mystique froze, a chill running down her spine.
The corporal raised his rifle, the blue ring at its barrel charging with a low hum. Mystique barely had time to register the sound before the shot hit her squarely in the stomach.
Pain flared through her body, electric and searing, as she crumpled to her knees. Her hands shot out instinctively to steady herself, her vision swimming. She tried to fight the creeping blackness overtaking her, but her body betrayed her, muscles locking and nerves screaming.
Her disguise began to falter. The captain's face shimmered, then melted away like watercolors in the rain. Her true form emerged, her blue skin and bright yellow eyes now exposed under the harsh floodlights. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the soldiers.
"She's a shifter," One of them said, stepping back slightly.
"Not just any shifter," Another replied, his tone cold. "That's Mystique, a priority A target. Stupid enough to just walk straight up to us."
The corporal lowered his rifle, stepping closer to the crumpled figure at his feet. "HQ warned us you'd try something like this," He muttered, his voice low but filled with satisfaction. "We have ways to detect shape-shifting, Hammer industries knows you, fool woman."
Mystique groaned, her head lolling as she struggled against the paralysis. Her fingers twitched weakly, but her limbs refused to obey her commands.
The corporal knelt down, tilting his helmeted head as he stared at her. "You're not as clever as you think, are you? Passive scans caught you the moment you crossed the perimeter. You really thought you could just waltz in here? That our God had not thought of countermeasures?"
Mystique's lips curled into a weak snarl, but she lacked the strength to respond.
The corporal straightened, signaling to his squad. "Secure her. HQ will want her alive."
Two soldiers stepped forward, their boots crunching against the dirt. They hoisted Mystique's limp body between them, her head lolling forward as she fought to stay conscious.
Mystique's vision soon darkened, her mind racing even as her body betrayed her. She'd underestimated them…
Then the darkness claimed her.
April 25th, 2010, Hammerhaven.
Justin sat in the soft glow of candlelight, the private dining room in Hammerhaven was a place of luxury and intimate elegance. The room, perched high above the sprawling metropolis of his creation, offered a breathtaking view of the glittering cityscape below.
It was still not quite as beautiful a sight as what was before him.
Yelena sat across from him, dressed in a sensual little black dress that managed to be both simple and devastatingly alluring. Her sharp eyes were filled with fondness as she twirled a fork in her hand, playing with her food more than eating it as she casually let her bare foot run up his leg under the table.
Justin leaned back in his chair, swirling the glass of deep red wine in his hand. "You know, my darling," He began with a teasing smirk, "I can't remember the last time I had a quiet dinner. Do you ever think we should do this more often? Just you and me, away from the world?"
Yelena arched an eyebrow, a wry grin tugging at her lips. "You mean away from your endless meetings, plans for world domination, and - what was it you said last week? 'Bringing humanity into the future, one hostile takeover at a time'?"
Justin chuckled, raising his glass in mock acknowledgment, showing no sign on his face that he noticed Yelena's foot trailing higher. "I know you think I'm not being serious. But, my dear, I am. With the spaceship soon to be arriving, we're so very close to seeing Earth defended properly. And what better way to spend it, then with you?"
She laughed, the sound warm and melodic, as she finally speared a piece of roasted duck from her plate. "Well, consider yourself lucky, then, Justin. Not everyone gets to enjoy my sparkling company so often, and you have me all to yourself..." She smirked, her foot finding its goal, "I'm glad you're finally taking advantage…"
Justin smirked. "Oh, believe me, I count my blessings every day."
Yelena leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she regarded him with a playful glint in her eyes. "Speaking of blessings, I've got one for you. My dear sister Natasha," She said, her tone dripping with mock seriousness, "Is officially my bitch now. Completely under my thumb. And, as a generous sister, I'd be happy to ~share."
Justin nearly choked on his wine, coughing as he set the glass down. "Excuse me?" He tried to ignore how easily Yelena's foot managed to undo his zipper.
Yelena laughed so hard she had to set her fork down, her shoulders shaking. "Oh, come on, Justin. You've been with her before. What's the harm in revisiting an old flame? Think of it as deep, hard, nostalgia."
Justin shook his head, still coughing slightly as he gave her an incredulous look. "Been there, done that, Yelena. Not happening. She might not be able to kill me anymore, but it wouldn't make things anymore pleasant. She hates me."
Times like these were reminders of the fact this woman enjoyed finding other women for him, delighted in sharing in the pleasure.
A joy, most times, to be sure. But her sister wasn't high on his list of people to be reacquainted with.
Yelena pouted, her lips forming a perfect mockery of disappointment. "But Justin," She drawled, resting a hand on her - very slightly - distended stomach, "I want to have a cute niece or nephew to play with. You'd be doing me a favor."
Justin leaned forward, pointing a fork at her. "Nice try, but no. Not even for you."
Her grin turned sly as she leaned back in her chair, clearly enjoying his discomfort. "Fine, fine. I'll let it go - for now."
The conversation shifted to lighter topics after that, the two of them falling into an easy rhythm. They teased each other about everything from Yelena's habit of stealing Justin's shirts to wear around Hammerhaven to Justin's inability to cook anything more complicated than toast due to getting lost in plans and improvements.
The atmosphere was relaxed, the kind of rare moment where the weight of their responsibilities and the chaos of their lives seemed to fade away.
Until Nail appeared.
The holographic figure of Justin's AI assistant materialized at the head of the table, her form flickering slightly as she bowed her head. "Apologies for the interruption, sir. I have urgent news."
Justin sighed, setting his utensils down and leaning back in his chair. "This better be good, Nail."
Nail's expression was as composed as ever, though there was a faint edge to her tone. "We've encountered unexpected resistance in the Savage Land. The locals are utilizing celestial technology to fight back. A division of former U.S. soldiers has been lost."
Justin waved a hand dismissively. "No loss. There's more where they came from. What's the status of the resources?"
Nail straightened slightly, her holographic form becoming more solid. "We've identified sources of both adamantium and vibranium within the region. Additionally, we've captured Mystique, who attempted to infiltrate our forces by impersonating a captain."
Justin arched an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Mystique, huh? What's she doing down there exactly?"
He'd suspected she was hiding out there, but he'd had no idea for what reason… Adamantium perhaps. He hadn't missed that…
A very interesting find. Perhaps the celestial tech was behind that wonder metal?
Now he wanted the Savage Land conquered even more - where it had mostly been a whim of his before - to see if any useful celestial tech remained…
"Unclear," Nail replied. "She was found to have camped near one of the celestial relics. Orders?"
Justin tapped his fingers on the table, his expression thoughtful. "Hand her over to Helen Cho. She'll know what to do. Focus on securing the resources and bringing back the tech."
Perhaps Mystique could be turned, but really, she wasn't that important in the grand scheme of things. He'd let Helen experiment a bit, and then see if Mystique wanted an out.
Yelena, who had been watching the exchange with mild annoyance, suddenly sat up straighter drawing Nails attention. Her expression shifted to one of dangerous curiosity as she interrupted them both. "Nail, we have a gynoid body developed at this stage, right?"
Justin turned to her, his brow furrowing. "What are you up to?"
He knew she enjoyed him fucking other women, but he had no intention of going after robots, and Nail was more like a daughter, or a creation of his, then anything else.
Nail hesitated for a fraction of a second before responding. "Yes, Miss. It has full sensory output but has not undergone proper testing."
Yelena's lips curved into a smile that was equal parts mischievous and menacing. "Good. Nail, you interrupted this date with pointless information that Sunil could have handled for Justin. I expect you to inhabit that body and report to my quarters for a spanking after this dinner."
Justin's eyebrows shot up, and he stared at Yelena in stunned silence. "Wait, what?"
What was even happening right now?
Nail, to Justin's utter disbelief, bowed her head subserviently. "Yes, Mommy."
At Yelena's shocked gasp, and the smile that bloomed up on her face, Justin sent Nail a dry look, his AI was getting scary good at reading a room.
"You're still getting a spanking." Yelena said through teary eyes. A smirk on her face, even as she rubbed her belly again.
Just not good enough yet, Justin thought, laughing inwardly at the apprehensive look on Nails holographic face.
New York,
Gwen Stacy shifted her weight from one foot to the other, glancing at the seemingly endless line snaking around the block in front of the HammerTech store. The sun was warm on her back, but the impatience bubbling inside her was enough to keep her restless. She craned her neck to see how far the line moved, her excitement battling with her irritation.
The buzz in the air was almost tangible. People of all ages stood in line, chatting animatedly about the neural links Hammer Industries was giving out for free. Gwen's thoughts raced as she considered the sheer magnitude of what this would mean for the world. Free neural links - even the basic model - meant that anyone could connect to the Hammerweb with their mind. No need for devices, no more limitations. It was a revolution in technology, a new way of thinking, literally.
She adjusted the strap of her bag, her fingers brushing against the edge of the flyer she'd picked up earlier that morning. It detailed the neural link's capabilities: seamless connectivity, instant access to information, and the ability to communicate ideas across the globe with the speed of thought. Gwen smiled to herself, her mind already leaping ahead to the possibilities.
This was how humanity would truly unite.
Imagine a world where people could share ideas instantly, she thought. Where scientists from different countries could collaborate without language barriers, where students could absorb knowledge directly from experts thousands of miles away. The sheer potential for growth, for understanding, for peace - it was staggering.
She glanced at the people in line, her heart swelling with hope. This wasn't just about the cool technology - it was about bridging divides, fostering connections. People would see each other for who they really were, beyond borders and politics. And Hammer Industries, for all the skepticism some people threw their way, was making it happen. They weren't just about profits - they were about progress.
Why else would they give away free, something that would eventually make the H-phone obsolete?
Sure the neural link at the most basic configuration, couldn't make phone calls or run apps, so the phone industry was safe, for now.
But anyone could see that this would one day replace them, and Hammer Industries were giving it away for free, showing they were not an evil corporation only concerned with profit.
She was pulled out of her reverie by the girl standing ahead of her in line making an exclamation as she watched a video. The girl had shaggy black hair under a beanie and a bored expression, chewing gum as she lazily scrolled through her H-Phone. Gwen smiled, feeling the need to share her excitement.
"This is amazing, isn't it?" Gwen said, her voice bright with enthusiasm. "The neural links are going to change everything. Imagine how this could connect people, how we can share ideas instantly. It's like... It's like the entire world will finally be able to think together."
The girl turned her head slightly, raising an eyebrow. She popped her gum loudly, her tone deadpan as she replied, "Oh, you're right. Except, like, totally replace all of that with the words sex and porn."
Gwen blinked, her smile faltering. "What? No, that's not - "
"Come on," The girl interrupted, gesturing vaguely at the line. "Look around. You think these people are here to share world-changing ideas? Nah, they're here because immersive porn is gonna be a thing now. The neural link? It's just the next big sex toy." She smirked, folding her arms.
Gwen stared at her, flabbergasted. "That's ridiculous. There's so much more to it than that. This is about connectivity, about learning, expanding our minds. I mean, my boyfriend Peter got one straight from Hammer Industries, and he's been using it to study. He's already learning so much more than he could from just books or online classes."
The girl snorted, clearly unimpressed. "Your boyfriend sounds like either the biggest nerd ever, or you have no idea what kind of kinky shit he's actually up to."
Gwen felt her cheeks heat up, her frustration bubbling over. "That's not true," She snapped, crossing her arms. "He's a brilliant student, and he's using this technology to better himself. Unlike you, apparently."
The girl shrugged, unbothered by Gwen's indignation. "Whatever you say, princess." She pointed at her own head, "But this girl is about to orgasm with her mind only, and that will beat your science nonsense any day."
Huffing, Gwen turned away, determined to ignore her. She refused to let the girl's cynicism and pervertedness dampen her excitement. People like her just couldn't see the bigger picture. The neural link was a gift, a leap forward for humanity. Sure, the free version was basic - but the ability to access information and ideas with just a thought? That was revolutionary.
She glanced at the line again, her annoyance fading as she thought about the generosity of Hammer Industries again. Giving out the cheapest models for free? It wasn't about making money. It was about bringing people together, giving everyone a chance to be part of this new era. That's what made Hammer different from the old tech giants like Apple or Google. This wasn't just business - it was a vision.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Gwen reached the front of the line. The interior of the HammerTech store was filled with holographic displays showcasing the neural link's features. She was guided to a comfortable chair by a technician, who gave her a reassuring smile as they prepared her for the procedure.
"It's quick and painless," The technician said, scrubbing the area behind her ear with disinfectant. "You'll barely feel a thing."
Gwen nodded, her heart racing with anticipation. The device itself was small, almost unnoticeable - a tiny implant that would connect her brain to the Hammerweb. The technician pressed it against her skin, and Gwen felt a slight pressure, then a faint warmth as the neural link was installed.
"That's it," The technician said, stepping back. "All done."
Gwen touched the spot behind her ear, marveling at how simple it had been. Minor brain surgery, done in less than a minute. She smiled broadly, thanking the technician before skipping out of the store, her excitement bubbling over.
As she stepped onto the sidewalk, she decided to test it out. She focused on the thought of a map of the area. Instantly, her vision filled with a glowing holographic display, a detailed map appearing before her eyes. She gasped in delight, opening her eyes to find the map seamlessly overlaid onto her surroundings, like a video game HUD.
"This is amazing," She whispered, her heart racing. She picked a restaurant at random, watching as a glowing path appeared on the sidewalk, guiding her way. It was like living in the future, a dream made real.
She giggled, practically skipping down the street as she followed the path. This was the beginning of something incredible. The world was changing, and she was thrilled to be a part of it. In this new era, anything was possible.
Gwen loved living in this world - a world shaped by Hammer Industries.
Same time, New York,
Peter Parker kind of hated living in this world - a world shaped by Hammer Industries.
Peter crouched on the edge of a Queens rooftop, the chill air brushing against the exposed parts of his face. The city spread out before him in a symphony of light and sound - honking car horns, the murmur of voices from nearby apartments, and the occasional laughter spilling out of a nearby diner. He chewed slowly on a piece of shawarma, savoring the rich flavors as he watched the city below.
If there was one good thing about the world shaped by Hammer Industries, it was this - shawarma on demand. If he was honest, the link only redeemed itself in moments like this, and for the paperwork…
Oh god, there was so much paperwork.
He didn't need his hands to type up the endless reports Hammer's hero sponsorship program demanded. No, instead, he used his mind. Every chew of his meal accompanied a silent click in his head as he filled out forms. Thoughts transformed into words that flowed onto virtual documents, all dictated by the mental gymnastics he'd learned since signing on with Hammer's program.
Being an independent hero sponsored by Hammer Industries had seemed like such a great idea at first. They offered backup, resources, lawyers to handle sticky situations, and even expense accounts to cover things like web fluid and shawarma binges. Not bad for a kid from Queens with a penchant for helping people.
He'd even heard whispers about a hero school in the works - an actual place where kids with powers or aspiring crimefighters could learn the ropes in a controlled, structured environment. It was a dream come true… On paper.
But Peter had quickly learned there was a dark, evil side. Well, maybe not evil - he'd reserve that term for actual supervillains - but definitely annoying.
Paperwork.
Mountains of it.
Everything he did required forms. Arrest someone? There was a form for that, requiring detailed explanations of why he'd acted, what the suspect had done, what evidence he'd gathered, and whether anyone had gotten hurt in the process. He'd thought catching purse snatchers and stopping muggers was hard work, but it turned out the real fight came afterward - facing a blank report template staring at him like a cruel joke.
Sure, the neural link made it easier. He could type out forms while eating shawarma or swinging between buildings. But it still sucked the fun out of being Spider-Man. The thrill of zipping through the city, the rush of outmaneuvering bad guys - all of it came to a screeching halt when he had to sit down and document everything he'd done.
Peter took another bite of shawarma and sighed inwardly. Yesterday's debacle still rankled. He'd saved a kitten from a tree - a good deed that had taken all of ten seconds. But today, he'd gotten a notice in his inbox - a ten percent reduction to his expense account until he submitted the report.
For saving a kitten. From a tree.
It wasn't even a big tree.
He finished the shawarma and leaned back slightly, resting his weight on one hand as he stared up at the clouds. If he didn't know better, he'd think Hammer Industries was trying to bog independent heroes down with busywork. Maybe they wanted them filling out forms and attending school instead of being out in the field or causing trouble?
But no, he reminded himself, Hammer Industries were the good guys. They had to be. They'd done more for the world in the last year than most governments had in decades. Poverty was on the brink of extinction. People had access to clean water, education, and opportunities that had seemed like distant dreams before. The neural link itself was proof of their good intentions - connecting humanity in ways no one had ever thought possible.
Peter couldn't argue with the results. The world was better off. But sometimes…
He heard the wail of a siren in the distance and stiffened, his head snapping toward the source. A police car raced down the street, its red and blue lights flashing against the building facades.
Peter sighed. Work never ended.
He hadn't even thought of it as work before. Stupid paperwork…
He stood, brushing crumbs off his suit before slipping his mask back over his face. He tugged the fabric into place and adjusted the lenses, his mind already calculating his remaining supply of web fluid. He'd have to include that in his next report, too.
Amount of web fluid used for the day. He could already picture the line item on his form, glaring at him with bureaucratic indifference.
Peter fired a web at a nearby rooftop and launched himself into the air, swinging gracefully between the skyscrapers and apartment buildings. The rush of wind against him was exhilarating, and for a brief moment, he felt free. But even as he soared through the city, the weight of responsibility lingered in the back of his mind.
He couldn't help but think about how things used to be. Back then, it was just him, his suit, and his wits against the bad guys. No paperwork, no rules, no neural links. Just Spider-Man, doing what he did best - saving people.
But now, every move he made was monitored, recorded, and analyzed. He couldn't so much as sneeze in his suit without someone from Hammer's oversight committee filing a query. And while the expense account was nice, it came with strings attached - strings that felt like they were tightening around him every day.
Gwen was thrilled about it all, so he couldn't even speak up about it without causing issues.
He spotted the source of the sirens - a jewelry store with shattered glass littering the sidewalk. Two figures in ski masks were bolting down the street, clutching bulging sacks in their hands. Peter narrowed his eyes and swung down, firing webs at the nearest lamppost to slow his descent.
"Hey, fellas!" He called out as he landed gracefully in front of them, blocking their path. "What's the rush? Got a hot date, or just feeling nostalgic for jail food?"
The thieves skidded to a halt, one of them fumbling for a weapon while the other turned to run. Peter didn't give them a chance to make a move. He fired a web at the fleeing thief's legs, yanking him off his feet. The other one raised a crowbar, but Peter ducked easily under the swing and disarmed him with a quick flick of his wrist.
"Pro tip," Peter said, his tone light. "If you're going to rob a place in broad daylight, maybe don't leave your getaway car parked so far away, I know it's New York traffic, but come on man."
He webbed the pair together and stepped back, admiring his handiwork. Another job well done. But even as he stood there, the familiar dread began to creep in, even as the cops approached, giving him a respectful nod.
Another report to fill out, he thought bitterly. Two perps, one crowbar, shattered glass… He mentally ran through the checklist, already composing the details in his head.
He swung up to a nearby rooftop and perched on the edge, watching as the officers secured the scene.
For a brief moment, he allowed himself to feel proud. He'd done good work tonight. He'd stopped a crime, helped the police, and ensured the city was just a little bit safer.
But then the neural link chimed softly in his head, reminding him of the unfinished report waiting for him. Peter groaned, the sound muffled by his mask.
Another day, another mountain of paperwork.
He fired another web and swung off into the night, wondering - not for the first time - if this was really the future he'd signed up for.
Hammerhaven, the next day.
The shadowed corridors of Hammerhaven were silent, save for the faint hum of the security systems. Felicia Hardy - the Black Cat - moved through the space like liquid shadow, her movements fluid and purposeful.
Her snow-white hair gleamed faintly in the dim light, framing a face that was equal parts mischief and allure. She wore her signature skintight black suit, the material hugging every curve as if painted onto her body. The white fur trim at her wrists and neckline added a touch of style to her otherwise practical attire, and her black domino mask accentuated her sharp green eyes, glinting with playful intent.
Reaching Justin Hammer's private office, she paused, crouching by the door. The lock system was sophisticated - layers of biometric and electronic security - but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. A sly smile spread across her lips as she pulled a small device from her utility belt. "Really, Hammer?" She whispered to herself as the device hummed faintly, cracking the system in seconds. "I was expecting a challenge."
A sudden slap to her ass made her jump, and she almost let out a shriek, as she twirled around, coming face to face with Yelena, who watched her, an amused look on her face, "We've had eyes on you since you came into the city, but it's cute you thought so highly of yourself."
"I just broke the lock to the door." Felicia said challengingly, feeling the pleasant sting to her ass cheek.
How did she sneak up on me so easily?
Yelena chuckled, "Oh, sweetie, I let you do that. Now don't wear him out, and enjoy yourself." She smirked, making a lazy gesture at the door as she walked away.
With a soft click, the door slid open, and the Black Cat slipped inside, putting Yelena out of her mind for now, her boots making no sound on the polished floor. The office was expansive, the epitome of modern elegance. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the cityscape below, while expensive looking black furniture and abstract art pieces gave the space a sharp, professional edge.
Justin Hammer sat at his desk, his attention on a holographic display projecting various schematics and reports. He looked as unflappable as ever, his tailored suit impeccable, his demeanor calm and confident. Felicia took a moment to admire the scene before making her move.
With a graceful leap, she vaulted onto his desk, her movements as smooth as silk. She landed in a crouch, one leg tucked under her, the other stretched out, her posture a deliberate display of feline allure. Slowly, she slid into a sitting position, crossing one leg over the other as she rested her elbow on her knee, her chin propped up on her hand.
"You could have at least given me a challenge," She purred, her voice a soft, teasing lilt. She reached out with her free hand, her gloved fingers trailing lightly down the front of his suit jacket, lingering just over his chest.
She'd been stealing information, and other things for this man for quite awhile now, and it had surprised her, his offer to come fully within the light. The enormous amount of cash on offer had certainly caught her interest too.
Even if her task to 'join' had been so easy she'd gotten a bit carried away.
Justin leaned back in his chair, his smirk growing as he took in her appearance. "I could have," He said, his tone amused. "But this way seemed more fun." His gaze didn't shy away from the way her suit clung to her body, though his expression remained composed. "How's Cross?"
Felicia giggled, her laughter light and melodic as she brought her hand to hide her mouth in a playful gesture. "Oh, Cross was delightful," She said, her eyes dancing with amusement. "I spent weeks stealing his little trinkets and putting them back when he wasn't looking. You should have seen the paranoia, the panic. He was practically jumping at shadows by the end." She leaned forward slightly, a mischievous grin on her lips. "He's dealt with now, put a gun in his own mouth to ~end it all."
"Good kitty," Justin said, reaching out to pat her head, a pleased expression on his face.
Felicia snapped her teeth at him playfully, her grin widening. "Careful, Hammer. This kitty bites!"
Justin chuckled, unbothered by her antics. "And the Ant-Man suit?" He asked, his tone turning slightly more serious.
Black Cat slid down from the desk with the same effortless grace she'd used to vault onto it, but instead of stepping away, she settled herself into his lap, her legs straddling him. She looped her arms around his neck, her lips curving into a sultry smile. "I put it exactly where you asked me to," She said, her voice a low murmur. "So… Does that mean I get to be the new big hero?" She shifted slightly, her movements deliberate. "I was a good girl, wasn't I, daddy? I deserve my treat."
Justin let out a quiet laugh, his hands resting casually on the arms of his chair. "Yes, you'll get a suit," He said, his tone indulgent. "Although we can't exactly call you Ant-Man, can we?"
She tilted her head, her expression thoughtful for a moment before she grinned. "How about Ant-Woman? No? Too on the nose?" She leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear. "Whatever you call me, I'll make it look good, daddy."
She could feel him reacting to her, her grin widening as she ground herself against him.
Justin's eyes flicked to hers, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "I don't doubt that," He said. He could already envision her as part of his team, her agility and cunning making her a perfect fit for the technology. The thought of her wielding the suit's abilities - shrinking, sneaking, and striking with precision - was more than a little enticing. Unlike the more heroic inclined predecessors, she'd be more likely to use the tech to its scary potential.
"We'll have to get a new suit made for you, we'll figure out the name later."
"I suppose I should be measured for it, then," Black Cat said, her voice playful. She reached for the zipper of her current suit, tugging it down just enough to tease, revealing a sliver of skin. "Wouldn't want the fit to be off."
Justin's gaze remained steady, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. "You are a naughty kitty, aren't you?"
She smirked, her confidence radiating as she locked eyes with him. "I'm a thief," She said simply. "I see what I want, and I take it." She didn't give him a chance to respond before she leaned in, her lips capturing his in a bold, confident kiss.
Space, an asteroid field in the middle of nowhere.
The vastness of space stretched out beyond the reinforced glass window like an endless canvas painted with pinpricks of light. The swirling hues of nebulae in the distance glowed faintly, in contrast to the cold metallic interior of the Bastion - the hollowed-out asteroid that served as both home and stronghold for T'Challa's burgeoning Ravager fleet.
T'Challa sat at his desk with the window behind him, his posture relaxed but his mind anything but. He wore the patched-together garb of a Ravager captain, the dark, durable fabric adorned with subtle vibranium enhancements that only someone intimately familiar with Wakandan technology would recognize.
In his hands, he fiddled with a small piece of alien tech, its smooth surface etched with alien script and circuitry that pulsed faintly under his touch. The device, though unassuming, represented another piece of their growing arsenal, a stepping stone toward ensuring the Bastion's survival.
He leaned back, exhaling a slow breath as his gaze drifted to the vastness beyond the glass. They had done well, better than he had ever anticipated when they had fled Wakanda in the face of its fiery destruction. Under his leadership, the once-disparate group of Ravagers had found purpose, merging Wakandan ingenuity with the ruthless pragmatism of spacefaring scavengers.
The Bastion was proof of their resilience - a massive asteroid, hollowed out and transformed into a self-sustaining fortress hidden within an asteroid field. Its location between two uncharted systems offered both strategic obscurity and access to nearby mining resources. Vibranium, painstakingly mined and repurposed by Wakandan scientists under Shuri's leadership, had become their most valuable asset once again. With it, they had crafted weapons, tools, and armor that rivaled anything in the galaxy.
And yet, despite their victories - despite the freed slaves who now called this place home, despite the ships they'd commandeered, despite the havoc they had wrought on the slave trade - T'Challa couldn't shake the weight in his chest.
Some of his people were alive, yes. But Wakanda was gone.
The sound of approaching footsteps pulled him from his thoughts. Shuri, dressed similarly in Ravager garb, entered the room. Her outfit, though functional, bore hints of Wakandan craftsmanship - intricate stitching and a faint shimmer that betrayed the vibranium woven into its fabric. Her movements were brisk, her expression one of focused determination as she approached the desk.
"You're still messing with that, brother?" She asked, her tone light but laced with exasperation.
T'Challa tossed the device to her with a casual flick of his wrist. "It is… Stubborn," He admitted. "But I would have solved it. Given time."
Shuri caught the device with ease, her smirk playful as she turned it over in her hands. Within moments, her fingers danced across its surface, manipulating the alien controls with practiced ease. The device let out a soft beep, its once-dormant circuitry springing to life in a faint glow. She held it up triumphantly, one eyebrow raised in challenge.
"Of course, brother," She replied, her tone dripping with mock sincerity.
T'Challa narrowed his eyes, his lips curving into a reluctant smile. "You take far too much pleasure in proving me wrong, Shuri."
"I am your sister," Shuri said simply, her smirk widening. "It is my duty."
Before T'Challa could respond, a deliberate throat-clearing broke the moment. Both siblings turned toward the desk, where Nick Fury sat, his expression one of thinly veiled irritation at being ignored. The former director of S.H.I.E.L.D. cut a sharp figure even in exile, his dark leather attire pristine and his single eye glinting with the intensity of a man who had spent a lifetime navigating corridors of power.
T'Challa thought the dark leather was a bit much, even amongst Ravagers he stood out as trying too hard.
He still had no idea why Captain Marvel had forced the man upon them, as useful as he'd been.
"Prince T'Challa," Fury began, his voice measured but firm. "I feel that you're not taking me seriously."
Shuri's expression darkened as she set the device on the desk with a sharp click. "It's King T'Challa to you," She snapped, her tone icy.
T'Challa raised a hand, a calming gesture that silenced his sister's protest. "Peace, Shuri," He said softly. "There are no kings or princes here. Wakanda… Is no more."
The words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, even Shuri's fiery spirit seemed to falter. T'Challa's voice carried a quiet resignation, though he managed to deliver the statement without the bitterness that once accompanied it.
Fury raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "And you're okay with that?" He asked, his tone probing. "Just going to roll over?"
T'Challa met Fury's gaze with a dark, amused look. "Mister Fury," He said slowly, "I will hate Justin Hammer until the day I die. And one day…" He leaned forward, his voice low and deliberate. "There will be a reckoning between him and I."
Shuri straightened, her posture proud as she crossed her arms and gave Fury a look that all but screamed, That's my brother.
"But," T'Challa continued, his tone softening, "I have many who count on me now. Freed slaves who would face a fate worse than death if I foolishly attacked Earth. I will not see them suffer for my vengeance."
He and Hammer would settle things man to man, he wouldn't let others suffer needlessly.
Fury's lips pressed into a thin line, his expression unreadable. "Commendable," He said after a moment. "But you must realize he's a threat to them as well. One day, he will come here."
T'Challa rapped his knuckles against the edge of his desk, the sharp sound punctuating his next words. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. Bast only knows what will happen. But I will not sacrifice my people on your quest, Fury."
The statement was pointed, deliberate. Fury's gaze hardened, his jaw tightening as T'Challa continued.
"You, I think, are not so different a man than Hammer," T'Challa said, his tone darkening. The accusation hung in the air, heavy and unspoken. How much did you have to do with Wakanda's end?
Fury's glare was cool, but there was no mistaking the tension in his frame. "And here I thought I was the one with lesser vision in the room," He said dryly. "Have I not assisted your band of pirates? Your security, information gathering, tactical analysis - it was all lacking before I arrived."
T'Challa inclined his head, acknowledging the point. "Everyone here at the Bastion pulls their weight," He said evenly. His gaze sharpened as he pointed a finger at Fury. "But you do not get to control our fates simply because you've worked for your bread like everyone else."
Fury's lips twitched into a faint smirk, though it didn't reach his eye. "Perhaps I'll find a way to make myself more useful then," He said, rising from his chair with deliberate slowness. "And convince you of the right way of things one day."
Shuri glared at him, her hands braced on the edge of the desk as if she were holding herself back from saying something she'd regret. T'Challa, however, remained composed, his expression inscrutable.
"Perhaps," T'Challa said, his voice calm but firm. "I would suggest not looking at others like pawns if you want them to fight for your cause, Mister Fury."
For a moment, the room was silent, the tension between the three figures palpable. Fury held T'Challa's gaze for a beat longer before inclining his head in a silent acknowledgment. Without another word, he turned and exited the room, the door sliding shut behind him with a soft hiss.
The silence lingered for a moment before Shuri broke it with a muttered, "What a dick."
The door closed on its own.
The interior of the Bastion was a chaotic mismash of cultures and styles. Nick Fury strode through its cavernous halls with measured steps, his sharp eye taking in every detail. The asteroid's natural rock walls loomed overhead, interspersed with patches of welded metal and reinforced panels that hinted at the frenetic construction that had taken place over months.
The walkways were a patchwork of materials - steel grates, salvaged starship plating, and hastily cut planks of some wood adjacent material scavenged from cargo holds. Above and below, pipes snaked through the structure, steam hissing occasionally from a poorly sealed valve. The faint hum of generators reverberated through the air, mingling with the distant sound of machinery clanging and voices shouting orders in a cacophony of languages.
The people of the Bastion were as diverse as the galaxy itself. Men, women, and children of every imaginable species bustled about, working together with a singular purpose. Fury passed a towering Kree engineer who barked instructions at a group of former slaves hauling crates of supplies. A trio of green-skinned Skrull children darted between Fury's legs, laughing as they carried tools to a repair station. An elderly Xandarian woman sat on a metal crate nearby, mending a tattered jacket with a patience that seemed at odds with the chaos around her.
On the walls, makeshift banners and flags hung alongside glowing neon signs, their bright colors clashing with the grimy, utilitarian environment. Some bore the Ravager emblem, while others displayed crude but heartfelt depictions of T'Challa's Black Panther symbol, a testament to the loyalty he had earned from this ragtag community.
As Fury moved deeper into the Bastion, the air grew warmer and more humid, a byproduct of the asteroid's life-support systems and the sheer number of people crammed within its confines. He passed a narrow corridor where Wakandan scientists worked tirelessly, their lab coats standing out against the patchwork uniforms of the others. The soft hum of vibranium tools was a familiar sound.
Even in space, the Wakandans had tracked down their miracle metal, unable to innovate without it.
Fury's gaze lingered on a group of humans and aliens collaborating on a mechanical exosuit, their faces a mix of determination and weariness. It was clear that the Bastion's success was built on the backs of those who had nothing left to lose.
Normally, that was perfect for his aims. But T'Challa had proved remarkably wise to his methods. And stymied his efforts constantly.
The man was too charismatic, too willing to sacrifice himself for his people, it had bought the devotion of all the freed slaves, which is why Fury would have to pivot in his efforts.
The path eventually opened into a larger space, a ramshackle gambling house and bar that pulsed with neon light. The sign above the entrance flickered erratically, its alien script unreadable to Fury but unmistakably inviting. The atmosphere inside was loud and vibrant, the air thick with the scent of alien alcohol and the sharp tang of synthetic cigars.
Fury's lip curled slightly as he caught sight of a man leaning back in one corner, a pleasure bot straddling him. T'Challa had banned prostitution outright, replacing it with these androids in a bid to prevent exploitation, but the sight still left a sour taste in Fury's mouth. He muttered under his breath, "Dignity's a rare commodity, I guess."
How Shuri could condemn him with her every word and look, and then turn around and happily make sex bots for the populace, he couldn't understand.
Pushing through the crowd, Fury made his way to a central table where Yondu Udonta held court. The former Ravager captain was unmistakable, his crimson fin towering over the heads of those seated around him. Yondu's sharp blue features were lit by the neon glow, his teeth bared in a predatory grin as he regaled his companions with some tall tale.
Peter Quill, his lackey, leaned in with an eager expression, clearly asking questions that Yondu had no interest in answering. With a casual shove, Yondu sent Quill sprawling backward, the younger man landing on his ass with an indignant squawk. "I told ya, boy," Yondu drawled, his tone half-amused, half-exasperated. "Don't bother me when I'm talkin'."
Quill scrambled to his feet, grumbling under his breath as he brushed himself off. Fury watched the exchange with mild amusement before stepping closer to the table. Yondu's sharp eyes flicked to him, narrowing slightly as the former S.H.I.E.L.D. director approached.
"Udonta," Fury said, his voice low and measured as he took a seat across from the Ravager. Yondu leaned back in his chair, his expression shifting to one of distaste.
"Well, if it ain't the one-eyed wonder," Yondu drawled, his tone laced with mockery. "What d'you want, Fury? Ain't ya got somewhere else to be?"
Fury ignored the jab, his gaze steady. "We need to speak privately," He said, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. Only someone adept at lip reading would have caught the words.
The former slaves adored T'Challa, but others had lost much, being pushed under his aegis. Fury would always find a way.
Yondu's grin widened, though it held no warmth. "Privately, huh?" He chuckled, leaning forward slightly. "What makes you think I wanna hear what you've got to say?"
"Because it could be worth your while," Fury replied, his tone calm but with a razor edge. "I may have a way for you to recoup your losses."
Yondu scoffed, but the faint flicker of interest in his eyes didn't escape Fury's notice. The Ravager captain tilted his head toward the backrooms, the gesture as dismissive as it was pointed. Fury nodded, rising from his seat without another word.
He knew Yondu wouldn't follow immediately. The man was predictable in his power plays, always needing to assert dominance in the most childish ways possible. Fury could wait. He had no doubt Yondu would come eventually, drawn by the promise of profit and revenge.
As he moved toward the backrooms, Fury's thoughts turned to the Wakandans and their vibranium. Shuri's genius had already begun to yield results, and the mining operations had provided them with a resource that could tip the scales.
It shouldn't be too hard to find a way to craft a weapon, a bomb, that could neutralize Justin Hammer - no matter how powerful he thought he was. Fury's lips thinned into a grim line. If a city or two had to be sacrificed to ensure Hammer couldn't become the dictator of Earth, so be it.
It would be no different than the American efforts to end Japan's participation in World War Two. Some threats were worth the collateral damage to end.
Fury had always been the man willing to make the hard calls. And this would be no different.
Author's Note:
I wonder who had a hand in writing those VR training programs?
Black Cat was only briefly mentioned in like one sentence many many chapters ago as someone Justin hired occasionally, so I'm not surprised absolutely no one guessed the right answer.
It does seem to be going towards a Yelena/Justin with how much she enjoys Justin sleeping around.
And Cyberpunk MCU is on the way, the - we totally do not have a backdoor - neural links are giving humanity access to the internet with the speed of thought.
Or Hammerweb apparently. Bad Justin. Bad. Stop renaming everything.
Cheers
Jollyhippopotamus
Here it is, the perennial winner on patron, can't lose apparently.
You'll find out who was torturing poor innocent Cross. At least he won't end up as a pathetic floating head flashing his ass in this one.
And someone who hasn't been around for a looong while makes a reappearance. A few someone's actually.
Anyway as usual, I don't own Marvel, the Avengers, X-Men or anything from Disney and etc, etc.
Hope you enjoy.
The shimmering projection of Lady Frejya remained as poised and regal as ever, her presence filling the room with an air of divine authority. Her expression, however, was anything but serene. The faint furrow in her brow and the sharpness in her gaze spoke volumes about her displeasure. Justin met her gaze evenly, his usual charm replaced with a cool, almost indifferent demeanor. Sunil Bakshi, seated quietly at a small table near the corner, kept his head down, doing his best to fade into the background, but wholly attentive.
"You're telling me," Frejya began, her voice calm but laced with steel, "That this… arrangement of yours, includes allowing Hela to roam the galaxy as a marauder? And you do not see this as breaking our accord?"
Justin raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching into a faint smirk. "That's exactly what I'm saying," He replied, his tone firm. "The spirit of the agreement was to keep her away from Asgard and under control. Sending her out to be a pirate does both, in a way that suits both our needs."
Frejya's eyes narrowed, her posture stiffening slightly. "Under control?" She repeated, her tone laced with polite disbelief. "Hela let loose, will leave a trail of death and destruction wherever she goes. And you think this satisfies the terms of our agreement?"
"It does," He said firmly. "The alternative was keeping her on Earth, where the lack of bloodshed would have driven her mad in record time - or more likely - made her lash out and start a war. You wanted her off Asgard; I want her where she can't endanger Earth, something I made very clear when we negotiated this accord. This solution achieves both."
Frejya's expression darkened almost imperceptibly, her regal facade slipping just enough to reveal the frustration simmering beneath. "And in doing so, you unleash her upon the galaxy, a weapon of chaos with your blessing. Do you not see how this undermines the trust we placed in you?"
Justin's jaw tightened, and his smirk faded. "Trust?" He echoed, his tone taking on an edge. "With all due respect, Lady Frejya, everything we've done - I've done - has been to defend Earth. We have not been the aggressors in this relationship." He told her, reminding her of their invasion, "We struck a deal, it had nothing to do with trust, you simply wished to use us. You've paid for that pleasure, but you did not pay enough to have us suffer through her insanity indefinitely. Earth's defense trumps everything."
Like he'd said, the spirit of the agreement was to keep her off Asgard, and they were achieving that, so Justin wasn't about to let himself be bent over for this - Earth wasn't the weak supplicant of Asgard…
Frejya tilted her head, her sharp gaze never leaving his. "Then explain to me," She said, her voice suddenly as cold as a winter's night, "How Hela's reaving across the galaxy constitutes defense!"
Justin got up and stepped around his desk, closer to her projection, his movements slow and deliberate. "Because Hela needs bloodshed as much as she needs air," He said bluntly. "And if she doesn't get it out there, she'll look for it here. Is that what you want? Hela rampaging across Earth, or worse, finding her way back to Asgard? I'm giving her an outlet that keeps her occupied and far away from places she can do real harm."
Frejya's lips pressed into a thin line, her silence speaking volumes. Justin pressed on, his voice rising slightly. "And let's not pretend she's going to be out there targeting innocents. Pirates, slave traders, scum of the universe. Are you saying you care more for them than the safety of Asgardian citizens?"
Because if Hela was left to languish, she'd definitely return to her goal of conquering Asgard and killing Odin.
Frejya's nostrils flared slightly, but she didn't immediately respond. Her silence was heavy, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. Sunil shifted uncomfortably in his chair, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the table in front of him, while Justin kept his cool.
"I understand your logic," Frejya said finally, her tone measured but still icy. "But that does not mean I am comfortable with it. You are sacrificing untold lives with this gambit, this is not what we agreed on."
Justin's expression hardened, his usual charm replaced with a steely resolve. "Then tell me," He said, his voice low and firm, "What's your better idea? If you've got a solution that keeps Hela in check without putting Earth - or Asgard - at risk, I'm all ears."
He already knew she had none, that's why they'd dumped Hela on him, after all.
There was some minute risk to challenging Asgard in this way. But his gut told him Frejya did not want a war. So it limited the amount of pressure she could put on him. Their alliance would be profitable to them both, she wouldn't end it over the death of pirates, not if she believed Hela would stay away from Asgard.
And from her light poking at him over his 'relationship' with Hela, she believed, like he did, that her obsession would bring her back to Earth, instead of seeking Asgard.
Frejya's gaze bore into him, unflinching and unyielding. The room fell into a heavy silence as the two stared each other down, a battle of wills playing out without a single word spoken. Sunil held his breath, feeling as though even the smallest sound might shatter the fragile equilibrium, even as he catalogued Asgards ruler's expressions for her file, for use in future negotiations.
After what felt like an eternity, Frejya's expression softened - just barely. She inclined her head ever so slightly, her eyes glinting with a new, unreadable emotion. "Thor will have your ship within the month," She said slowly, her tone carrying a hint of reluctant respect. "Consider this matter settled... For now. At our next negotiation, I will expect due consideration for this bending of the accord…"
And with that, her projection faded into nothingness, leaving the room feeling emptier than it had moments before.
Sunil exhaled softly, breaking the silence that followed. "She doesn't see us as quite as quaint as before, sir," He said quietly, his voice carefully neutral.
Justin smirked faintly, though there was little humor in it. "About time they see us as more than slightly evolved pets," He muttered.
Within a year, two at the most. Asgard would be their lesser, not even Odin able to make up the difference.
He'd have to send a message to the Ancient One though…
Heimdall was becoming a problem.
Fort Moore, Georgia.
The sound of Bradley Doyle's boots echoed softly in the empty hallway as he walked toward the briefing room. Everything felt different now - different from what it had been just a few months ago, before Justin Hammer had swept in and taken control of not just the military, but the entire country.
Bradley clenched his fists at his sides as he approached the door, his thoughts racing. He'd served for over a decade, disdaining climbing the ranks, remaining as a corporal, as he refused to leave his brothers behind. He was meant to be on the ground, not behind a desk, after all.
He'd seen a lot of changes in leadership over the years. But this? This was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. The United States wasn't the United States anymore. The stars and stripes still flew over some buildings, sure, but everyone knew the truth - the country was now a cog in the Hammer Federation.
Their president wasn't even god damn American anymore! Sure they'd slapped a citizenship on him, but that's just not how things were done in good old America, before all this bullshit.
Bradley had resisted the idea, still did, even if he could do nothing but grouse about it. Hammer wasn't elected. He wasn't a general duly appointed, or a president - hell, the man wasn't even a politician - the less said about president Bakshi, the better.
Justin Hammer was the real ruler of America now… He was a tech mogul who had somehow managed to unite the world - Bradley still wasn't sure how that had happened so quickly - tearing down governments and absorbing them into his corporate empire. It was surreal, like something out of one of those dystopian sci-fi movies he used to watch with his buddies during downtime.
Bradley paused outside the briefing room, staring at the Hammer Industries logo etched into the glass door. A sleek "H" in gold stamped on a globe. The symbol of a new world order. His stomach twisted. This isn't what I signed up for, he thought.
But what could he do? He was one man, just a cog in a much larger machine. Resisting wasn't an option - not when the Hammer Federation was already so vast, so overwhelming in its reach. Besides, there were… Benefits. The world was more stable than it had ever been. Crime rates were down. Wars between nations were a thing of the past, barring Russia and China. Poverty and hunger were on the brink of eradication.
So why does this feel wrong? Bradley shook his head, clearing the thought as he pushed open the door and stepped inside.
He knew why it felt wrong.
You could put all the lipstick on a pig you wanted - it didn't change the fact it was a pig.
America should not be like this. World peace was not worth their freedoms being taken away.
…
The briefing was short and to the point. They were being reorganized. The military as he knew it was being stripped down and rebuilt from the ground up. Everyone, from the greenest recruits to the most seasoned officers, would undergo retraining. They'd be learning to use Hammer tech, integrating it into every facet of their operations. And it wouldn't be a simple classroom experience - they were introducing a VR program that would immerse them completely.
Bradley didn't understand what that meant at first. He nodded along with his commanding officer's explanation, pretending to follow, but it wasn't until he was escorted to the VR pods that the reality began to sink in. Rows of sleek pods lined the walls of a cavernous warehouse, each one humming faintly with energy. Soldiers climbed inside one by one, their expressions a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
The instructors warned them that the simulations were deeply immersive - time-dilated, they called it - and that they'd feel as though they spent years inside the program.
Some soldiers weren't impressed, recognizing that this was technology used in prisons. But in the end, they were soldiers, and if the brass had signed off on this, all they could do was complete the training to the best of their abilities.
When it was his turn, Bradley hesitated. He stood before the open pod, staring at the padded interior filled with some sort of gel. The tech looked almost alien, with glowing circuits running along the edges and a visor-like mechanism that would cover his eyes once he was inside.
"Doyle," His CO barked. "Get in. It's not optional."
Bradley swallowed hard, nodding as he climbed inside. The pod hissed shut around him, sealing him in darkness. For a moment, he panicked, his heart hammering against his ribs. Then the visor lowered, and everything changed.
…
The first thing Bradley noticed was the sun. It was blindingly bright, beating down on him with an intensity that made his skin prickle. He squinted, raising a hand to shield his eyes, and realized he was standing in the middle of a desert. He looked down at himself, startled to see that he was wearing a suit of futuristic armor, the Hammer Industries logo emblazoned on the chest plate.
"What the hell?" He muttered, turning in a slow circle.
The desert stretched endlessly in every direction, but he wasn't alone. A squad of soldiers stood nearby, all clad in similar armor. They looked at him expectantly, their faces unfamiliar hidden by the face masks and visors, but somehow familiar at the same time.
"Doyle," One of them called out. "You good?"
Bradley blinked. He knew that voice. It belonged to Rodriguez, one of his squadmates back in the real world. But this didn't feel like a simulation. The heat of the sun, the grit of the sand under his boots - it was all too real.
Before he could respond, the comms in his helmet crackled to life. "Doyle, get your head in the game. We've got hostiles inbound. Move!"
The next few hours were a blur of action. Bradley fought alongside his squad, learning how to use the new Hammer tech through trial and error. The suit enhanced his strength and reflexes, making him faster, stronger, and deadlier than he'd ever been before. The weapons were unlike anything he'd used in his military career - energy rifles that fired precise, devastating beams of light; drones that deployed with a flick of his wrist, providing aerial support; and grenades that emitted EMP pulses, disabling enemy equipment in an instant.
For what felt like decades, he lived a second life. The VR world was utterly convincing - the heat of explosions, the recoil of Hammer's advanced plasma rifles, the tension of planning operations against simulated enemies. He was taught to use Hammer's technology not through lectures or manuals but by doing. He piloted drones, navigated orbital strikes, and fought beside enhanced units that moved with superhuman speed. He didn't just learn tactics - he lived them.
Not all of it was fighting either, they dealt with disaster relief, aid work, and other tasks that would safeguard their fellow man. They were kept so busy, that the few lectures and classes they were forced to take inside the VR world, was almost a relief.
In the program, Bradley experienced triumph and failure. He fought and died countless times, the pain and adrenaline as real as if he were on an actual battlefield. But each death was a lesson, and he emerged stronger, more skilled, more attuned to Hammer's way of warfare - to fighting superhumans - to being superhuman - to using HammerTech power armor. He did it all.
By the time the simulation ended, Bradley felt like he'd spent at least a decade in that world. When the visor lifted and the pod hissed open, he stumbled out, blinking in the harsh fluorescent light of the warehouse. His legs felt weak, his mind disoriented.
"How long…?" He croaked, his voice hoarse.
"Thirty days," His CO said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Welcome back, Doyle. You've completed the Patriot program."
Thirty days. A single month. Bradley stared at his hands, his mind reeling. It didn't seem possible. How could thirty days feel like years? And yet… It made sense. He felt different. More certain of his purpose.
Changes had swept through the military with efficiency that bordered on ruthlessness during his time under. Old units were disbanded, ranks and designations shuffled. The insignias of the U.S. Armed Forces were replaced with the logo of Hammer Industries. Gone were the stars and stripes on his uniform; in their place was the symbol of the Hammer Federation and Hammer Industries.
Having spent a decade fighting under that same flag, it felt… Right.
…
Later that day, Bradley sat in the mess hall with Rodriguez and the rest of his squad. The room buzzed with conversation, the sound of laughter and clinking trays filling the air. Monitors mounted on the walls displayed the latest news, and Bradley's attention was drawn to a report about unrest in western Russia.
"Parts of western Russia have risen in rebellion against Moscow," The anchor said. "The rebels are demanding that Russia join the Hammer Federation, citing a desire for unity and progress. We at Fox news are happy to see the Russian people taking the steps to unite under the light of Hammer, our thoughts and prayers go out to them."
"Serves them right," Rodriguez said, smirking as he shoveled food into his mouth. "Those alien lovers thought they could stand against Hammer. Now their own people are turning on them."
Bradley nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He felt a swell of pride as he watched the report. The Hammer Federation was unstoppable. It wasn't just a government - it was a force of nature, reshaping the world for the better. Finally, Russia was seeing that.
Hopefully the Chinese would stop being stubborn too, or the United Federation Armed Forces - the replacement for Nato, this time with the entire world joined up - would have to show them what's what.
"You know," Bradley said, glancing around the table. "We've got everything here. Training facilities, top-tier tech, even the best food I've ever had in the military. But there's one thing we're missing."
"What's that?" Rodriguez asked.
"A chapel," Bradley said seriously. "For Hammer. I mean, he's not just a man. He's… More than that. Feels wrong not to have a place to honor him."
Rodriguez nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. We should bring it up to command. Bet they'd listen."
Bradley felt pleased. It would be wrong not to show their respect to the man, no, the God, they owed everything to.
…
A few days later, Bradley found himself strapped to a gurney in the infirmary. He stared up at the ceiling, his heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement. This was it - the next step. The super-soldier serum.
The medics worked efficiently, prepping him and the others in his squad. The serum was a weaker version of what had been used on Captain America, but it was still revolutionary. It would make them stronger, faster, and tougher than any soldier in history, it was even mixed with a stronger version of Panacea called Extremis. Which would give them regeneration!
When the needle pierced his skin, Bradley gritted his teeth, bracing himself for the pain. It came almost immediately, a searing heat spreading through his veins. He gasped, his muscles tensing as the serum worked its way through his body. The pain was intense, but there was something else - something deeper. A fire ignited within him, a sense of purpose that burned brighter than ever.
For Hammer. For the Federation. For Unity and Humanity!
…
The day of deployment arrived with an air of anticipation. Bradley stood with his squadron, their newly issued Hammer power armor gleaming under the hangar lights. The soldiers moved with purpose, their steps synchronized as they marched toward the glowing orange portals that flickered to life before them.
The portal operators were women clad in leather uniforms that hugged their forms tightly, their smirks suggestive as they watched the soldiers pass. One of the operators, her crimson hair glowing like fire in the portal light, winked at Bradley. "March on, boys," She said, her voice low and teasing. "Hammer's watching."
Bradley's chest swelled with pride as he led his squad through the portal. They emerged in a dense jungle, the air thick with humidity and the calls of strange, alien creatures echoing around them.
The Savage Lands. The briefing had been clear - pacify the locals, retrieve any advanced technology, and bring the region under Federation control.
The Geneva convention had been revoked, there was no need for humanity to weaken itself against alien threats, only humans deserved rights.
Bradley tightened his grip on his plasma rifle, his eyes scanning the lush landscape as his squad fanned out around him. They moved with precision, their enhanced senses attuned to every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs.
This was their purpose now. To bring order to the chaos. To serve Hammer and the Federation, until one day it could be an Empire of humanity.
Bradley smiled beneath his helmet, the weight of his weapon reassuring in his hands. Together, they would succeed. They were blessed by Hammer, after all. And no one could stand against them.
The dense, humid jungle of the Savage Lands was alive with the sounds of chirping insects, distant growls, and the rustle of leaves stirred by unseen creatures. Even in the encroaching darkness of twilight, the air carried a sense of danger and mystery. Mystique, dressed in the uniform of a Hammer Federation captain, moved with practiced ease, her steps purposeful and confident. Her assumed form, that of a rugged, no-nonsense officer, was flawless, down to the faint scar tracing her cheek and the dirtiness of the uniform and armor, denoting she'd been in a scuffle.
She'd seen the man leave to inspect another camp, and taken his form for this, knowing how eager to please soldier boys were in front of the people able to dispatch them to constant latrine duty.
She adjusted the brim of the cap slightly, letting the shadow cast over her borrowed face add to the authority she projected. Her eyes scanned the area, taking in the camp ahead. Soldiers in Hammer-tech armor patrolled the perimeter, their movements efficient. Portable floodlights bathed the area in light, illuminating the path towards the camp.
This wouldn't be easy, but Mystique had infiltrated tighter operations than this. Her lips curved into a slight smirk, the satisfaction of slipping past two earlier patrols adding confidence to her stride. The disguise was perfect. All she needed was to get into the command tent, extract the information she required, and disappear before anyone knew she'd been there.
With that information in hand, She'd be able to infiltrate the main base, and escape back into the wider world with information worth selling to whoever was interested - and someone was always interested.
As she approached the outer perimeter, a squad of soldiers intercepted her, their armor reflecting the floodlights. Their rifles were slung low but at the ready, and their faces were obscured by their armored helmets. The leader of the group stepped forward, a red targeting lens flickering to life over one eye.
"Captain," The soldier said, his voice filtered through a modulator. "You're early. And on foot. Where is your squad?"
Mystique didn't hesitate, her posture rigid, her voice sharp. "At ease, Corporal. I'm here on special orders from HQ, my squad was ambushed and I barely got away. Stand aside and let me through."
The soldiers didn't move.
A flicker of unease tickled the back of Mystique's mind, but she squashed it. She kept her tone brisk, authoritative. "Did you not hear me? I'm on a tight schedule. Stand down and let me proceed, or I'll have your entire squad reassigned to latrine duty for insubordination."
The corporal tilted his head slightly, his helmet hiding whatever expression he wore. Behind him, the other soldiers shifted their stances, weapons clicking as they were adjusted ever so slightly.
Mystique clenched her jaw but maintained her facade, pushing forward with more bluster. This has to work, they're just jarheads. "HQ doesn't tolerate delays, and neither do I. If you have a problem, take it up with your CO. Now move aside."
The corporal let her finish her tirade before speaking again, his tone dripping with disdain. "You done?"
Mystique froze, a chill running down her spine.
The corporal raised his rifle, the blue ring at its barrel charging with a low hum. Mystique barely had time to register the sound before the shot hit her squarely in the stomach.
Pain flared through her body, electric and searing, as she crumpled to her knees. Her hands shot out instinctively to steady herself, her vision swimming. She tried to fight the creeping blackness overtaking her, but her body betrayed her, muscles locking and nerves screaming.
Her disguise began to falter. The captain's face shimmered, then melted away like watercolors in the rain. Her true form emerged, her blue skin and bright yellow eyes now exposed under the harsh floodlights. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the soldiers.
"She's a shifter," One of them said, stepping back slightly.
"Not just any shifter," Another replied, his tone cold. "That's Mystique, a priority A target. Stupid enough to just walk straight up to us."
The corporal lowered his rifle, stepping closer to the crumpled figure at his feet. "HQ warned us you'd try something like this," He muttered, his voice low but filled with satisfaction. "We have ways to detect shape-shifting, Hammer industries knows you, fool woman."
Mystique groaned, her head lolling as she struggled against the paralysis. Her fingers twitched weakly, but her limbs refused to obey her commands.
The corporal knelt down, tilting his helmeted head as he stared at her. "You're not as clever as you think, are you? Passive scans caught you the moment you crossed the perimeter. You really thought you could just waltz in here? That our God had not thought of countermeasures?"
Mystique's lips curled into a weak snarl, but she lacked the strength to respond.
The corporal straightened, signaling to his squad. "Secure her. HQ will want her alive."
Two soldiers stepped forward, their boots crunching against the dirt. They hoisted Mystique's limp body between them, her head lolling forward as she fought to stay conscious.
Mystique's vision soon darkened, her mind racing even as her body betrayed her. She'd underestimated them…
Then the darkness claimed her.
April 25th, 2010, Hammerhaven.
Justin sat in the soft glow of candlelight, the private dining room in Hammerhaven was a place of luxury and intimate elegance. The room, perched high above the sprawling metropolis of his creation, offered a breathtaking view of the glittering cityscape below.
It was still not quite as beautiful a sight as what was before him.
Yelena sat across from him, dressed in a sensual little black dress that managed to be both simple and devastatingly alluring. Her sharp eyes were filled with fondness as she twirled a fork in her hand, playing with her food more than eating it as she casually let her bare foot run up his leg under the table.
Justin leaned back in his chair, swirling the glass of deep red wine in his hand. "You know, my darling," He began with a teasing smirk, "I can't remember the last time I had a quiet dinner. Do you ever think we should do this more often? Just you and me, away from the world?"
Yelena arched an eyebrow, a wry grin tugging at her lips. "You mean away from your endless meetings, plans for world domination, and - what was it you said last week? 'Bringing humanity into the future, one hostile takeover at a time'?"
Justin chuckled, raising his glass in mock acknowledgment, showing no sign on his face that he noticed Yelena's foot trailing higher. "I know you think I'm not being serious. But, my dear, I am. With the spaceship soon to be arriving, we're so very close to seeing Earth defended properly. And what better way to spend it, then with you?"
She laughed, the sound warm and melodic, as she finally speared a piece of roasted duck from her plate. "Well, consider yourself lucky, then, Justin. Not everyone gets to enjoy my sparkling company so often, and you have me all to yourself..." She smirked, her foot finding its goal, "I'm glad you're finally taking advantage…"
Justin smirked. "Oh, believe me, I count my blessings every day."
Yelena leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she regarded him with a playful glint in her eyes. "Speaking of blessings, I've got one for you. My dear sister Natasha," She said, her tone dripping with mock seriousness, "Is officially my bitch now. Completely under my thumb. And, as a generous sister, I'd be happy to ~share."
Justin nearly choked on his wine, coughing as he set the glass down. "Excuse me?" He tried to ignore how easily Yelena's foot managed to undo his zipper.
Yelena laughed so hard she had to set her fork down, her shoulders shaking. "Oh, come on, Justin. You've been with her before. What's the harm in revisiting an old flame? Think of it as deep, hard, nostalgia."
Justin shook his head, still coughing slightly as he gave her an incredulous look. "Been there, done that, Yelena. Not happening. She might not be able to kill me anymore, but it wouldn't make things anymore pleasant. She hates me."
Times like these were reminders of the fact this woman enjoyed finding other women for him, delighted in sharing in the pleasure.
A joy, most times, to be sure. But her sister wasn't high on his list of people to be reacquainted with.
Yelena pouted, her lips forming a perfect mockery of disappointment. "But Justin," She drawled, resting a hand on her - very slightly - distended stomach, "I want to have a cute niece or nephew to play with. You'd be doing me a favor."
Justin leaned forward, pointing a fork at her. "Nice try, but no. Not even for you."
Her grin turned sly as she leaned back in her chair, clearly enjoying his discomfort. "Fine, fine. I'll let it go - for now."
The conversation shifted to lighter topics after that, the two of them falling into an easy rhythm. They teased each other about everything from Yelena's habit of stealing Justin's shirts to wear around Hammerhaven to Justin's inability to cook anything more complicated than toast due to getting lost in plans and improvements.
The atmosphere was relaxed, the kind of rare moment where the weight of their responsibilities and the chaos of their lives seemed to fade away.
Until Nail appeared.
The holographic figure of Justin's AI assistant materialized at the head of the table, her form flickering slightly as she bowed her head. "Apologies for the interruption, sir. I have urgent news."
Justin sighed, setting his utensils down and leaning back in his chair. "This better be good, Nail."
Nail's expression was as composed as ever, though there was a faint edge to her tone. "We've encountered unexpected resistance in the Savage Land. The locals are utilizing celestial technology to fight back. A division of former U.S. soldiers has been lost."
Justin waved a hand dismissively. "No loss. There's more where they came from. What's the status of the resources?"
Nail straightened slightly, her holographic form becoming more solid. "We've identified sources of both adamantium and vibranium within the region. Additionally, we've captured Mystique, who attempted to infiltrate our forces by impersonating a captain."
Justin arched an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Mystique, huh? What's she doing down there exactly?"
He'd suspected she was hiding out there, but he'd had no idea for what reason… Adamantium perhaps. He hadn't missed that…
A very interesting find. Perhaps the celestial tech was behind that wonder metal?
Now he wanted the Savage Land conquered even more - where it had mostly been a whim of his before - to see if any useful celestial tech remained…
"Unclear," Nail replied. "She was found to have camped near one of the celestial relics. Orders?"
Justin tapped his fingers on the table, his expression thoughtful. "Hand her over to Helen Cho. She'll know what to do. Focus on securing the resources and bringing back the tech."
Perhaps Mystique could be turned, but really, she wasn't that important in the grand scheme of things. He'd let Helen experiment a bit, and then see if Mystique wanted an out.
Yelena, who had been watching the exchange with mild annoyance, suddenly sat up straighter drawing Nails attention. Her expression shifted to one of dangerous curiosity as she interrupted them both. "Nail, we have a gynoid body developed at this stage, right?"
Justin turned to her, his brow furrowing. "What are you up to?"
He knew she enjoyed him fucking other women, but he had no intention of going after robots, and Nail was more like a daughter, or a creation of his, then anything else.
Nail hesitated for a fraction of a second before responding. "Yes, Miss. It has full sensory output but has not undergone proper testing."
Yelena's lips curved into a smile that was equal parts mischievous and menacing. "Good. Nail, you interrupted this date with pointless information that Sunil could have handled for Justin. I expect you to inhabit that body and report to my quarters for a spanking after this dinner."
Justin's eyebrows shot up, and he stared at Yelena in stunned silence. "Wait, what?"
What was even happening right now?
Nail, to Justin's utter disbelief, bowed her head subserviently. "Yes, Mommy."
At Yelena's shocked gasp, and the smile that bloomed up on her face, Justin sent Nail a dry look, his AI was getting scary good at reading a room.
"You're still getting a spanking." Yelena said through teary eyes. A smirk on her face, even as she rubbed her belly again.
Just not good enough yet, Justin thought, laughing inwardly at the apprehensive look on Nails holographic face.
New York,
Gwen Stacy shifted her weight from one foot to the other, glancing at the seemingly endless line snaking around the block in front of the HammerTech store. The sun was warm on her back, but the impatience bubbling inside her was enough to keep her restless. She craned her neck to see how far the line moved, her excitement battling with her irritation.
The buzz in the air was almost tangible. People of all ages stood in line, chatting animatedly about the neural links Hammer Industries was giving out for free. Gwen's thoughts raced as she considered the sheer magnitude of what this would mean for the world. Free neural links - even the basic model - meant that anyone could connect to the Hammerweb with their mind. No need for devices, no more limitations. It was a revolution in technology, a new way of thinking, literally.
She adjusted the strap of her bag, her fingers brushing against the edge of the flyer she'd picked up earlier that morning. It detailed the neural link's capabilities: seamless connectivity, instant access to information, and the ability to communicate ideas across the globe with the speed of thought. Gwen smiled to herself, her mind already leaping ahead to the possibilities.
This was how humanity would truly unite.
Imagine a world where people could share ideas instantly, she thought. Where scientists from different countries could collaborate without language barriers, where students could absorb knowledge directly from experts thousands of miles away. The sheer potential for growth, for understanding, for peace - it was staggering.
She glanced at the people in line, her heart swelling with hope. This wasn't just about the cool technology - it was about bridging divides, fostering connections. People would see each other for who they really were, beyond borders and politics. And Hammer Industries, for all the skepticism some people threw their way, was making it happen. They weren't just about profits - they were about progress.
Why else would they give away free, something that would eventually make the H-phone obsolete?
Sure the neural link at the most basic configuration, couldn't make phone calls or run apps, so the phone industry was safe, for now.
But anyone could see that this would one day replace them, and Hammer Industries were giving it away for free, showing they were not an evil corporation only concerned with profit.
She was pulled out of her reverie by the girl standing ahead of her in line making an exclamation as she watched a video. The girl had shaggy black hair under a beanie and a bored expression, chewing gum as she lazily scrolled through her H-Phone. Gwen smiled, feeling the need to share her excitement.
"This is amazing, isn't it?" Gwen said, her voice bright with enthusiasm. "The neural links are going to change everything. Imagine how this could connect people, how we can share ideas instantly. It's like... It's like the entire world will finally be able to think together."
The girl turned her head slightly, raising an eyebrow. She popped her gum loudly, her tone deadpan as she replied, "Oh, you're right. Except, like, totally replace all of that with the words sex and porn."
Gwen blinked, her smile faltering. "What? No, that's not - "
"Come on," The girl interrupted, gesturing vaguely at the line. "Look around. You think these people are here to share world-changing ideas? Nah, they're here because immersive porn is gonna be a thing now. The neural link? It's just the next big sex toy." She smirked, folding her arms.
Gwen stared at her, flabbergasted. "That's ridiculous. There's so much more to it than that. This is about connectivity, about learning, expanding our minds. I mean, my boyfriend Peter got one straight from Hammer Industries, and he's been using it to study. He's already learning so much more than he could from just books or online classes."
The girl snorted, clearly unimpressed. "Your boyfriend sounds like either the biggest nerd ever, or you have no idea what kind of kinky shit he's actually up to."
Gwen felt her cheeks heat up, her frustration bubbling over. "That's not true," She snapped, crossing her arms. "He's a brilliant student, and he's using this technology to better himself. Unlike you, apparently."
The girl shrugged, unbothered by Gwen's indignation. "Whatever you say, princess." She pointed at her own head, "But this girl is about to orgasm with her mind only, and that will beat your science nonsense any day."
Huffing, Gwen turned away, determined to ignore her. She refused to let the girl's cynicism and pervertedness dampen her excitement. People like her just couldn't see the bigger picture. The neural link was a gift, a leap forward for humanity. Sure, the free version was basic - but the ability to access information and ideas with just a thought? That was revolutionary.
She glanced at the line again, her annoyance fading as she thought about the generosity of Hammer Industries again. Giving out the cheapest models for free? It wasn't about making money. It was about bringing people together, giving everyone a chance to be part of this new era. That's what made Hammer different from the old tech giants like Apple or Google. This wasn't just business - it was a vision.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Gwen reached the front of the line. The interior of the HammerTech store was filled with holographic displays showcasing the neural link's features. She was guided to a comfortable chair by a technician, who gave her a reassuring smile as they prepared her for the procedure.
"It's quick and painless," The technician said, scrubbing the area behind her ear with disinfectant. "You'll barely feel a thing."
Gwen nodded, her heart racing with anticipation. The device itself was small, almost unnoticeable - a tiny implant that would connect her brain to the Hammerweb. The technician pressed it against her skin, and Gwen felt a slight pressure, then a faint warmth as the neural link was installed.
"That's it," The technician said, stepping back. "All done."
Gwen touched the spot behind her ear, marveling at how simple it had been. Minor brain surgery, done in less than a minute. She smiled broadly, thanking the technician before skipping out of the store, her excitement bubbling over.
As she stepped onto the sidewalk, she decided to test it out. She focused on the thought of a map of the area. Instantly, her vision filled with a glowing holographic display, a detailed map appearing before her eyes. She gasped in delight, opening her eyes to find the map seamlessly overlaid onto her surroundings, like a video game HUD.
"This is amazing," She whispered, her heart racing. She picked a restaurant at random, watching as a glowing path appeared on the sidewalk, guiding her way. It was like living in the future, a dream made real.
She giggled, practically skipping down the street as she followed the path. This was the beginning of something incredible. The world was changing, and she was thrilled to be a part of it. In this new era, anything was possible.
Gwen loved living in this world - a world shaped by Hammer Industries.
Same time, New York,
Peter Parker kind of hated living in this world - a world shaped by Hammer Industries.
Peter crouched on the edge of a Queens rooftop, the chill air brushing against the exposed parts of his face. The city spread out before him in a symphony of light and sound - honking car horns, the murmur of voices from nearby apartments, and the occasional laughter spilling out of a nearby diner. He chewed slowly on a piece of shawarma, savoring the rich flavors as he watched the city below.
If there was one good thing about the world shaped by Hammer Industries, it was this - shawarma on demand. If he was honest, the link only redeemed itself in moments like this, and for the paperwork…
Oh god, there was so much paperwork.
He didn't need his hands to type up the endless reports Hammer's hero sponsorship program demanded. No, instead, he used his mind. Every chew of his meal accompanied a silent click in his head as he filled out forms. Thoughts transformed into words that flowed onto virtual documents, all dictated by the mental gymnastics he'd learned since signing on with Hammer's program.
Being an independent hero sponsored by Hammer Industries had seemed like such a great idea at first. They offered backup, resources, lawyers to handle sticky situations, and even expense accounts to cover things like web fluid and shawarma binges. Not bad for a kid from Queens with a penchant for helping people.
He'd even heard whispers about a hero school in the works - an actual place where kids with powers or aspiring crimefighters could learn the ropes in a controlled, structured environment. It was a dream come true… On paper.
But Peter had quickly learned there was a dark, evil side. Well, maybe not evil - he'd reserve that term for actual supervillains - but definitely annoying.
Paperwork.
Mountains of it.
Everything he did required forms. Arrest someone? There was a form for that, requiring detailed explanations of why he'd acted, what the suspect had done, what evidence he'd gathered, and whether anyone had gotten hurt in the process. He'd thought catching purse snatchers and stopping muggers was hard work, but it turned out the real fight came afterward - facing a blank report template staring at him like a cruel joke.
Sure, the neural link made it easier. He could type out forms while eating shawarma or swinging between buildings. But it still sucked the fun out of being Spider-Man. The thrill of zipping through the city, the rush of outmaneuvering bad guys - all of it came to a screeching halt when he had to sit down and document everything he'd done.
Peter took another bite of shawarma and sighed inwardly. Yesterday's debacle still rankled. He'd saved a kitten from a tree - a good deed that had taken all of ten seconds. But today, he'd gotten a notice in his inbox - a ten percent reduction to his expense account until he submitted the report.
For saving a kitten. From a tree.
It wasn't even a big tree.
He finished the shawarma and leaned back slightly, resting his weight on one hand as he stared up at the clouds. If he didn't know better, he'd think Hammer Industries was trying to bog independent heroes down with busywork. Maybe they wanted them filling out forms and attending school instead of being out in the field or causing trouble?
But no, he reminded himself, Hammer Industries were the good guys. They had to be. They'd done more for the world in the last year than most governments had in decades. Poverty was on the brink of extinction. People had access to clean water, education, and opportunities that had seemed like distant dreams before. The neural link itself was proof of their good intentions - connecting humanity in ways no one had ever thought possible.
Peter couldn't argue with the results. The world was better off. But sometimes…
He heard the wail of a siren in the distance and stiffened, his head snapping toward the source. A police car raced down the street, its red and blue lights flashing against the building facades.
Peter sighed. Work never ended.
He hadn't even thought of it as work before. Stupid paperwork…
He stood, brushing crumbs off his suit before slipping his mask back over his face. He tugged the fabric into place and adjusted the lenses, his mind already calculating his remaining supply of web fluid. He'd have to include that in his next report, too.
Amount of web fluid used for the day. He could already picture the line item on his form, glaring at him with bureaucratic indifference.
Peter fired a web at a nearby rooftop and launched himself into the air, swinging gracefully between the skyscrapers and apartment buildings. The rush of wind against him was exhilarating, and for a brief moment, he felt free. But even as he soared through the city, the weight of responsibility lingered in the back of his mind.
He couldn't help but think about how things used to be. Back then, it was just him, his suit, and his wits against the bad guys. No paperwork, no rules, no neural links. Just Spider-Man, doing what he did best - saving people.
But now, every move he made was monitored, recorded, and analyzed. He couldn't so much as sneeze in his suit without someone from Hammer's oversight committee filing a query. And while the expense account was nice, it came with strings attached - strings that felt like they were tightening around him every day.
Gwen was thrilled about it all, so he couldn't even speak up about it without causing issues.
He spotted the source of the sirens - a jewelry store with shattered glass littering the sidewalk. Two figures in ski masks were bolting down the street, clutching bulging sacks in their hands. Peter narrowed his eyes and swung down, firing webs at the nearest lamppost to slow his descent.
"Hey, fellas!" He called out as he landed gracefully in front of them, blocking their path. "What's the rush? Got a hot date, or just feeling nostalgic for jail food?"
The thieves skidded to a halt, one of them fumbling for a weapon while the other turned to run. Peter didn't give them a chance to make a move. He fired a web at the fleeing thief's legs, yanking him off his feet. The other one raised a crowbar, but Peter ducked easily under the swing and disarmed him with a quick flick of his wrist.
"Pro tip," Peter said, his tone light. "If you're going to rob a place in broad daylight, maybe don't leave your getaway car parked so far away, I know it's New York traffic, but come on man."
He webbed the pair together and stepped back, admiring his handiwork. Another job well done. But even as he stood there, the familiar dread began to creep in, even as the cops approached, giving him a respectful nod.
Another report to fill out, he thought bitterly. Two perps, one crowbar, shattered glass… He mentally ran through the checklist, already composing the details in his head.
He swung up to a nearby rooftop and perched on the edge, watching as the officers secured the scene.
For a brief moment, he allowed himself to feel proud. He'd done good work tonight. He'd stopped a crime, helped the police, and ensured the city was just a little bit safer.
But then the neural link chimed softly in his head, reminding him of the unfinished report waiting for him. Peter groaned, the sound muffled by his mask.
Another day, another mountain of paperwork.
He fired another web and swung off into the night, wondering - not for the first time - if this was really the future he'd signed up for.
Hammerhaven, the next day.
The shadowed corridors of Hammerhaven were silent, save for the faint hum of the security systems. Felicia Hardy - the Black Cat - moved through the space like liquid shadow, her movements fluid and purposeful.
Her snow-white hair gleamed faintly in the dim light, framing a face that was equal parts mischief and allure. She wore her signature skintight black suit, the material hugging every curve as if painted onto her body. The white fur trim at her wrists and neckline added a touch of style to her otherwise practical attire, and her black domino mask accentuated her sharp green eyes, glinting with playful intent.
Reaching Justin Hammer's private office, she paused, crouching by the door. The lock system was sophisticated - layers of biometric and electronic security - but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. A sly smile spread across her lips as she pulled a small device from her utility belt. "Really, Hammer?" She whispered to herself as the device hummed faintly, cracking the system in seconds. "I was expecting a challenge."
A sudden slap to her ass made her jump, and she almost let out a shriek, as she twirled around, coming face to face with Yelena, who watched her, an amused look on her face, "We've had eyes on you since you came into the city, but it's cute you thought so highly of yourself."
"I just broke the lock to the door." Felicia said challengingly, feeling the pleasant sting to her ass cheek.
How did she sneak up on me so easily?
Yelena chuckled, "Oh, sweetie, I let you do that. Now don't wear him out, and enjoy yourself." She smirked, making a lazy gesture at the door as she walked away.
With a soft click, the door slid open, and the Black Cat slipped inside, putting Yelena out of her mind for now, her boots making no sound on the polished floor. The office was expansive, the epitome of modern elegance. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the cityscape below, while expensive looking black furniture and abstract art pieces gave the space a sharp, professional edge.
Justin Hammer sat at his desk, his attention on a holographic display projecting various schematics and reports. He looked as unflappable as ever, his tailored suit impeccable, his demeanor calm and confident. Felicia took a moment to admire the scene before making her move.
With a graceful leap, she vaulted onto his desk, her movements as smooth as silk. She landed in a crouch, one leg tucked under her, the other stretched out, her posture a deliberate display of feline allure. Slowly, she slid into a sitting position, crossing one leg over the other as she rested her elbow on her knee, her chin propped up on her hand.
"You could have at least given me a challenge," She purred, her voice a soft, teasing lilt. She reached out with her free hand, her gloved fingers trailing lightly down the front of his suit jacket, lingering just over his chest.
She'd been stealing information, and other things for this man for quite awhile now, and it had surprised her, his offer to come fully within the light. The enormous amount of cash on offer had certainly caught her interest too.
Even if her task to 'join' had been so easy she'd gotten a bit carried away.
Justin leaned back in his chair, his smirk growing as he took in her appearance. "I could have," He said, his tone amused. "But this way seemed more fun." His gaze didn't shy away from the way her suit clung to her body, though his expression remained composed. "How's Cross?"
Felicia giggled, her laughter light and melodic as she brought her hand to hide her mouth in a playful gesture. "Oh, Cross was delightful," She said, her eyes dancing with amusement. "I spent weeks stealing his little trinkets and putting them back when he wasn't looking. You should have seen the paranoia, the panic. He was practically jumping at shadows by the end." She leaned forward slightly, a mischievous grin on her lips. "He's dealt with now, put a gun in his own mouth to ~end it all."
"Good kitty," Justin said, reaching out to pat her head, a pleased expression on his face.
Felicia snapped her teeth at him playfully, her grin widening. "Careful, Hammer. This kitty bites!"
Justin chuckled, unbothered by her antics. "And the Ant-Man suit?" He asked, his tone turning slightly more serious.
Black Cat slid down from the desk with the same effortless grace she'd used to vault onto it, but instead of stepping away, she settled herself into his lap, her legs straddling him. She looped her arms around his neck, her lips curving into a sultry smile. "I put it exactly where you asked me to," She said, her voice a low murmur. "So… Does that mean I get to be the new big hero?" She shifted slightly, her movements deliberate. "I was a good girl, wasn't I, daddy? I deserve my treat."
Justin let out a quiet laugh, his hands resting casually on the arms of his chair. "Yes, you'll get a suit," He said, his tone indulgent. "Although we can't exactly call you Ant-Man, can we?"
She tilted her head, her expression thoughtful for a moment before she grinned. "How about Ant-Woman? No? Too on the nose?" She leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear. "Whatever you call me, I'll make it look good, daddy."
She could feel him reacting to her, her grin widening as she ground herself against him.
Justin's eyes flicked to hers, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "I don't doubt that," He said. He could already envision her as part of his team, her agility and cunning making her a perfect fit for the technology. The thought of her wielding the suit's abilities - shrinking, sneaking, and striking with precision - was more than a little enticing. Unlike the more heroic inclined predecessors, she'd be more likely to use the tech to its scary potential.
"We'll have to get a new suit made for you, we'll figure out the name later."
"I suppose I should be measured for it, then," Black Cat said, her voice playful. She reached for the zipper of her current suit, tugging it down just enough to tease, revealing a sliver of skin. "Wouldn't want the fit to be off."
Justin's gaze remained steady, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. "You are a naughty kitty, aren't you?"
She smirked, her confidence radiating as she locked eyes with him. "I'm a thief," She said simply. "I see what I want, and I take it." She didn't give him a chance to respond before she leaned in, her lips capturing his in a bold, confident kiss.
Space, an asteroid field in the middle of nowhere.
The vastness of space stretched out beyond the reinforced glass window like an endless canvas painted with pinpricks of light. The swirling hues of nebulae in the distance glowed faintly, in contrast to the cold metallic interior of the Bastion - the hollowed-out asteroid that served as both home and stronghold for T'Challa's burgeoning Ravager fleet.
T'Challa sat at his desk with the window behind him, his posture relaxed but his mind anything but. He wore the patched-together garb of a Ravager captain, the dark, durable fabric adorned with subtle vibranium enhancements that only someone intimately familiar with Wakandan technology would recognize.
In his hands, he fiddled with a small piece of alien tech, its smooth surface etched with alien script and circuitry that pulsed faintly under his touch. The device, though unassuming, represented another piece of their growing arsenal, a stepping stone toward ensuring the Bastion's survival.
He leaned back, exhaling a slow breath as his gaze drifted to the vastness beyond the glass. They had done well, better than he had ever anticipated when they had fled Wakanda in the face of its fiery destruction. Under his leadership, the once-disparate group of Ravagers had found purpose, merging Wakandan ingenuity with the ruthless pragmatism of spacefaring scavengers.
The Bastion was proof of their resilience - a massive asteroid, hollowed out and transformed into a self-sustaining fortress hidden within an asteroid field. Its location between two uncharted systems offered both strategic obscurity and access to nearby mining resources. Vibranium, painstakingly mined and repurposed by Wakandan scientists under Shuri's leadership, had become their most valuable asset once again. With it, they had crafted weapons, tools, and armor that rivaled anything in the galaxy.
And yet, despite their victories - despite the freed slaves who now called this place home, despite the ships they'd commandeered, despite the havoc they had wrought on the slave trade - T'Challa couldn't shake the weight in his chest.
Some of his people were alive, yes. But Wakanda was gone.
The sound of approaching footsteps pulled him from his thoughts. Shuri, dressed similarly in Ravager garb, entered the room. Her outfit, though functional, bore hints of Wakandan craftsmanship - intricate stitching and a faint shimmer that betrayed the vibranium woven into its fabric. Her movements were brisk, her expression one of focused determination as she approached the desk.
"You're still messing with that, brother?" She asked, her tone light but laced with exasperation.
T'Challa tossed the device to her with a casual flick of his wrist. "It is… Stubborn," He admitted. "But I would have solved it. Given time."
Shuri caught the device with ease, her smirk playful as she turned it over in her hands. Within moments, her fingers danced across its surface, manipulating the alien controls with practiced ease. The device let out a soft beep, its once-dormant circuitry springing to life in a faint glow. She held it up triumphantly, one eyebrow raised in challenge.
"Of course, brother," She replied, her tone dripping with mock sincerity.
T'Challa narrowed his eyes, his lips curving into a reluctant smile. "You take far too much pleasure in proving me wrong, Shuri."
"I am your sister," Shuri said simply, her smirk widening. "It is my duty."
Before T'Challa could respond, a deliberate throat-clearing broke the moment. Both siblings turned toward the desk, where Nick Fury sat, his expression one of thinly veiled irritation at being ignored. The former director of S.H.I.E.L.D. cut a sharp figure even in exile, his dark leather attire pristine and his single eye glinting with the intensity of a man who had spent a lifetime navigating corridors of power.
T'Challa thought the dark leather was a bit much, even amongst Ravagers he stood out as trying too hard.
He still had no idea why Captain Marvel had forced the man upon them, as useful as he'd been.
"Prince T'Challa," Fury began, his voice measured but firm. "I feel that you're not taking me seriously."
Shuri's expression darkened as she set the device on the desk with a sharp click. "It's King T'Challa to you," She snapped, her tone icy.
T'Challa raised a hand, a calming gesture that silenced his sister's protest. "Peace, Shuri," He said softly. "There are no kings or princes here. Wakanda… Is no more."
The words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, even Shuri's fiery spirit seemed to falter. T'Challa's voice carried a quiet resignation, though he managed to deliver the statement without the bitterness that once accompanied it.
Fury raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "And you're okay with that?" He asked, his tone probing. "Just going to roll over?"
T'Challa met Fury's gaze with a dark, amused look. "Mister Fury," He said slowly, "I will hate Justin Hammer until the day I die. And one day…" He leaned forward, his voice low and deliberate. "There will be a reckoning between him and I."
Shuri straightened, her posture proud as she crossed her arms and gave Fury a look that all but screamed, That's my brother.
"But," T'Challa continued, his tone softening, "I have many who count on me now. Freed slaves who would face a fate worse than death if I foolishly attacked Earth. I will not see them suffer for my vengeance."
He and Hammer would settle things man to man, he wouldn't let others suffer needlessly.
Fury's lips pressed into a thin line, his expression unreadable. "Commendable," He said after a moment. "But you must realize he's a threat to them as well. One day, he will come here."
T'Challa rapped his knuckles against the edge of his desk, the sharp sound punctuating his next words. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. Bast only knows what will happen. But I will not sacrifice my people on your quest, Fury."
The statement was pointed, deliberate. Fury's gaze hardened, his jaw tightening as T'Challa continued.
"You, I think, are not so different a man than Hammer," T'Challa said, his tone darkening. The accusation hung in the air, heavy and unspoken. How much did you have to do with Wakanda's end?
Fury's glare was cool, but there was no mistaking the tension in his frame. "And here I thought I was the one with lesser vision in the room," He said dryly. "Have I not assisted your band of pirates? Your security, information gathering, tactical analysis - it was all lacking before I arrived."
T'Challa inclined his head, acknowledging the point. "Everyone here at the Bastion pulls their weight," He said evenly. His gaze sharpened as he pointed a finger at Fury. "But you do not get to control our fates simply because you've worked for your bread like everyone else."
Fury's lips twitched into a faint smirk, though it didn't reach his eye. "Perhaps I'll find a way to make myself more useful then," He said, rising from his chair with deliberate slowness. "And convince you of the right way of things one day."
Shuri glared at him, her hands braced on the edge of the desk as if she were holding herself back from saying something she'd regret. T'Challa, however, remained composed, his expression inscrutable.
"Perhaps," T'Challa said, his voice calm but firm. "I would suggest not looking at others like pawns if you want them to fight for your cause, Mister Fury."
For a moment, the room was silent, the tension between the three figures palpable. Fury held T'Challa's gaze for a beat longer before inclining his head in a silent acknowledgment. Without another word, he turned and exited the room, the door sliding shut behind him with a soft hiss.
The silence lingered for a moment before Shuri broke it with a muttered, "What a dick."
The door closed on its own.
The interior of the Bastion was a chaotic mismash of cultures and styles. Nick Fury strode through its cavernous halls with measured steps, his sharp eye taking in every detail. The asteroid's natural rock walls loomed overhead, interspersed with patches of welded metal and reinforced panels that hinted at the frenetic construction that had taken place over months.
The walkways were a patchwork of materials - steel grates, salvaged starship plating, and hastily cut planks of some wood adjacent material scavenged from cargo holds. Above and below, pipes snaked through the structure, steam hissing occasionally from a poorly sealed valve. The faint hum of generators reverberated through the air, mingling with the distant sound of machinery clanging and voices shouting orders in a cacophony of languages.
The people of the Bastion were as diverse as the galaxy itself. Men, women, and children of every imaginable species bustled about, working together with a singular purpose. Fury passed a towering Kree engineer who barked instructions at a group of former slaves hauling crates of supplies. A trio of green-skinned Skrull children darted between Fury's legs, laughing as they carried tools to a repair station. An elderly Xandarian woman sat on a metal crate nearby, mending a tattered jacket with a patience that seemed at odds with the chaos around her.
On the walls, makeshift banners and flags hung alongside glowing neon signs, their bright colors clashing with the grimy, utilitarian environment. Some bore the Ravager emblem, while others displayed crude but heartfelt depictions of T'Challa's Black Panther symbol, a testament to the loyalty he had earned from this ragtag community.
As Fury moved deeper into the Bastion, the air grew warmer and more humid, a byproduct of the asteroid's life-support systems and the sheer number of people crammed within its confines. He passed a narrow corridor where Wakandan scientists worked tirelessly, their lab coats standing out against the patchwork uniforms of the others. The soft hum of vibranium tools was a familiar sound.
Even in space, the Wakandans had tracked down their miracle metal, unable to innovate without it.
Fury's gaze lingered on a group of humans and aliens collaborating on a mechanical exosuit, their faces a mix of determination and weariness. It was clear that the Bastion's success was built on the backs of those who had nothing left to lose.
Normally, that was perfect for his aims. But T'Challa had proved remarkably wise to his methods. And stymied his efforts constantly.
The man was too charismatic, too willing to sacrifice himself for his people, it had bought the devotion of all the freed slaves, which is why Fury would have to pivot in his efforts.
The path eventually opened into a larger space, a ramshackle gambling house and bar that pulsed with neon light. The sign above the entrance flickered erratically, its alien script unreadable to Fury but unmistakably inviting. The atmosphere inside was loud and vibrant, the air thick with the scent of alien alcohol and the sharp tang of synthetic cigars.
Fury's lip curled slightly as he caught sight of a man leaning back in one corner, a pleasure bot straddling him. T'Challa had banned prostitution outright, replacing it with these androids in a bid to prevent exploitation, but the sight still left a sour taste in Fury's mouth. He muttered under his breath, "Dignity's a rare commodity, I guess."
How Shuri could condemn him with her every word and look, and then turn around and happily make sex bots for the populace, he couldn't understand.
Pushing through the crowd, Fury made his way to a central table where Yondu Udonta held court. The former Ravager captain was unmistakable, his crimson fin towering over the heads of those seated around him. Yondu's sharp blue features were lit by the neon glow, his teeth bared in a predatory grin as he regaled his companions with some tall tale.
Peter Quill, his lackey, leaned in with an eager expression, clearly asking questions that Yondu had no interest in answering. With a casual shove, Yondu sent Quill sprawling backward, the younger man landing on his ass with an indignant squawk. "I told ya, boy," Yondu drawled, his tone half-amused, half-exasperated. "Don't bother me when I'm talkin'."
Quill scrambled to his feet, grumbling under his breath as he brushed himself off. Fury watched the exchange with mild amusement before stepping closer to the table. Yondu's sharp eyes flicked to him, narrowing slightly as the former S.H.I.E.L.D. director approached.
"Udonta," Fury said, his voice low and measured as he took a seat across from the Ravager. Yondu leaned back in his chair, his expression shifting to one of distaste.
"Well, if it ain't the one-eyed wonder," Yondu drawled, his tone laced with mockery. "What d'you want, Fury? Ain't ya got somewhere else to be?"
Fury ignored the jab, his gaze steady. "We need to speak privately," He said, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. Only someone adept at lip reading would have caught the words.
The former slaves adored T'Challa, but others had lost much, being pushed under his aegis. Fury would always find a way.
Yondu's grin widened, though it held no warmth. "Privately, huh?" He chuckled, leaning forward slightly. "What makes you think I wanna hear what you've got to say?"
"Because it could be worth your while," Fury replied, his tone calm but with a razor edge. "I may have a way for you to recoup your losses."
Yondu scoffed, but the faint flicker of interest in his eyes didn't escape Fury's notice. The Ravager captain tilted his head toward the backrooms, the gesture as dismissive as it was pointed. Fury nodded, rising from his seat without another word.
He knew Yondu wouldn't follow immediately. The man was predictable in his power plays, always needing to assert dominance in the most childish ways possible. Fury could wait. He had no doubt Yondu would come eventually, drawn by the promise of profit and revenge.
As he moved toward the backrooms, Fury's thoughts turned to the Wakandans and their vibranium. Shuri's genius had already begun to yield results, and the mining operations had provided them with a resource that could tip the scales.
It shouldn't be too hard to find a way to craft a weapon, a bomb, that could neutralize Justin Hammer - no matter how powerful he thought he was. Fury's lips thinned into a grim line. If a city or two had to be sacrificed to ensure Hammer couldn't become the dictator of Earth, so be it.
It would be no different than the American efforts to end Japan's participation in World War Two. Some threats were worth the collateral damage to end.
Fury had always been the man willing to make the hard calls. And this would be no different.
Author's Note:
I wonder who had a hand in writing those VR training programs?
Black Cat was only briefly mentioned in like one sentence many many chapters ago as someone Justin hired occasionally, so I'm not surprised absolutely no one guessed the right answer.
It does seem to be going towards a Yelena/Justin with how much she enjoys Justin sleeping around.
And Cyberpunk MCU is on the way, the - we totally do not have a backdoor - neural links are giving humanity access to the internet with the speed of thought.
Or Hammerweb apparently. Bad Justin. Bad. Stop renaming everything.
Cheers
Jollyhippopotamus
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