＊＊＊

Wakanda,

T'Challa grunted as he walked straight into someone, knocking them over.

"Nakia…? What are you doing here?" He asked suspiciously, before blinking, feeling sheepish, offering her his hand, "Ah, sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going!"

There really weren't many people near this hangar, he'd made sure. Being the prince had its privileges, even if he had to lie. So Nakia being here of all places…

Nakia grumbled softly, but took his hand, the look in her eyes telling T'Challa he'd hear about this again at some point. He smiled wryly to himself, it didn't matter what he did after all

He'd always hear about it again at some point, usually in a situation where he could be embarrassed in front of his family.

"I was investigating, of course." She said, a tiny smirk on her face that made T'Challa look away with a light cough, feeling heat rushing to his face. Averting his gaze unfortunately brought his sight to Okoye, his current guard, who was smirking in a telling way at him.

It's not like that, Okoye, T'Challa tried to tell her with his eyes, but her smirk just widened.

The Dora were too impertinent really. Why did he even allow them around, he thought almost sulkily. He'd hear about this later too, the Dora worse gossips than the old ladies at the market.

Bast! They were all probably retired Dora Milaje now that he thought about it.

"T'Challa… Why were you coming here?" Nakia asked sweetly, "Perhaps you have something you'd like to tell me, hmm?"

"Do I have a choice?" He replied evasively, trying to not meet her eyes.

Nakia laid a hand against his cheek, tilting his head slightly, forcing him to meet her eyes, her own somehow soft, even through the harshness he saw, something prevalent in so many of their citizens in the last few weeks. "T'Challa, you know I trust you. You can talk to me."

She smirked playfully, "Or I'll just draw my own conclusions anyway." She said, tongue in cheek.

T'Challa sighed, although a small smile played on his lips, "You've already seen it, haven't you?"

What was the point of posting guards? He thought in fond exasperation.

"Mhm, seen, but still wondering about the how and why?"

T'Challa took her hand and led her forward, back the way she'd come, soon enough coming up on the hangar, giving Nakia a look upon seeing the two unconscious guards slumped against the wall.

Nakia shrugged lightly, "They weren't very good guards." A mischievous smile popped upon her face, "Some flirting, a flash of skin, and I got in close enough to take them down, no problem."

T'Challa suddenly found that he had no issue with the two men being knocked unconscious, giving them an irritated look.

"This is why the Dora should be guarding this project, not men." Okoye helpfully added. A disgusted curl to her lips as she looked down at the failed guards with a look of derision.

Nakia gave Okoye a playfully sultry look, "I'm sure I could draw a kiss or two out of your people, Okoye." She teased, lips quirked.

T'Challa rubbed his face, "Please stop that, both of you." I do not need that kind of mental image… Right now.

Nakia made an amused noise from the back of her throat, crossing her arms under her breasts. "Is the great prince getting flustered?" She asked with a raised eyebrow, eyes glittering with mirth.

"Nakia…"

"T'Challa." She replied with amusement.

"You wanted to know what it is I have the scientists and engineers working on?" T'Challa changed the subject with grace.

From the quiet giggle he got before Nakia looked forward into the hangar, some seriousness returning to her visage, he knew his quick change of the subject wouldn't be the end of it.

Teasing him seemed to be one of Nakia's greatest skills…

"Simply put, I'm working on a future." T'Challa said seriously, staring ahead, conflicted feelings warring inside him.

With this, he was technically diverting resources from the war, was technically moving against decrees from his father, although it was more the council then his father at this point.

For Shuri… I must succeed.

For any of Wakanda to survive…

＊＊＊

Mogadishu, Somalia,

"As far as shitholes go, this isn't too bad." Brock said, as their support team moved supplies into the warehouse at the edge of the city that they'd been instructed to hunker down in.

At least it had some industrial grade air conditioning to help with the fact Somalia was sweltering hot.

Frank grunted, a large crate in his arms as he muscled his way past Brock, "It'd be less of a shithole if you'd get off your ass to help, princess."

Brock grinned, pushing Frank's shoulder, which almost had the other man lose control of the crate, his dark look promising bruises for their next spar.

"We have grunts for that work now, I'm perfectly fine being the princess in this scenario." Brock said, uncaring of Frank's attitude. "We need to stay nice and relaxed in case we get called in."

Frank dumped the crate on the floor just inside the warehouse, "The boss doesn't want to reveal us yet, it would take something big to call us in."

Brock knew Frank was just as displeased as he was that they were still kept under wraps, they wanted to let loose, really let their upgraded armors go full tilt to find out their full capabilities.

"Wakanda will definitely do something big again, at some point. They won't just sit pretty and die." Brock said with absolute certainty. He didn't know them, he didn't care to know them. But warriors never just accepted impending defeat with grace. They'd strike out.

"There's worse debuts than slapping down Wakanda, considering all they've done." Frank said darkly, his countenance grim. The man would always be army, Brock took things easier, took things less personally.

Brock stretched, not too interested in the whole set up work, that's why Hammer had given them their own team of grunts after all. To do all the drudge work and guard duty and all that boring stuff Brock didn't have to do anymore.

"Pretty sure I saw a brothel a couple streets down, you want in Frankie?" Having a ton of money now was useless if he wasn't enjoying it after all. Unlike Frank who probably put it into a pension fund or something.

Hah, like either of them would ever live long enough to get to collect. Brock thought, armors or not, a soldier's life carried risks. Regeneration was a big boost - but it just meant enemies would be tougher and try harder to kill them.

"I'm married." Frank said flatly, giving him a look of disgust.

Brock chuckled, slapping the other man on the back, "It's not cheating if it's a whore."

".... Get the fuck out of my face."

Brock rolled his eyes, stepping away with his hands held up, a smirk on his face, "So sensitive, alright you do all the work, get this place nice and put together for me for when I return from actually having fun." He mocked.

Frank headed deeper into the warehouse without a word, while Brock stepped outside with a pep in his step.

Soon he'd be able to really let loose. Surely Wakanda or some other idiot would disrupt Hammer's Africa plan?

People in Mogadishu stepped out of his way as he walked down the street, his bloodthirsty grin enough to deter even the most hardened criminal.

He couldn't wait.

Hammer better let them loose soon… Because Brock wouldn't wait much longer for his debut.

＊＊＊

Bern, Switzerland.

Justin ignored the gawking of the people around him, all of them fabulously wealthy by common standards, you had to be to even get this far into the Universal Bank in Bern, Switzerland. However, compared to him, and his projected worth just over the next year, let alone decade - they were practically paupers, and therefore hardly even worth his notice.

Especially with recent events - their petty rivalries and lackluster companies hardly merited notice in comparison.

The last 2 weeks had been… Stressful. The world had cooled down slightly, as everyone suspiciously eyed each other, looking for whoever had been behind the attempted nuclear strike on Wakanda.

Without success. Considering Justin now sat on the World Security Council, he had access to a lot of privileged information, which left him with only three, in his mind, possible options.

Either the Iliad could suddenly now become invisible, which included invisibility to any detection system the world had.

Secondly, it had some sort of dimension shifting capabilities and simply wasn't here, until it was. Which… He really hoped wasn't the case. Because that just stank of alien interference.

Or thirdly, it was now a submersible, again, somehow. And good luck searching the whole ocean.

Justin had already been contracted by the Defense Department to devise a way to find them, because apparently everyone thought he shit out miracles now. Success had its own consequences and if he wanted to keep up the momentum, he needed to keep delivering until his reputation was so solidified that a failure or two wouldn't matter.

Of course the rest of the council suspected Magneto, because who else could manage to hide a big metal boat. And it was much easier to suspect the S class threat than some nebulous, possibly alien, interference.

Justin doubted he had anything to do with it. It just wasn't flashy enough. Magneto, if he'd hijacked the Iliad, would have dropped it on the White House lawn while monologuing, not playing hide and seek.

He'd also have succeeded if he was trying to nuke someone. Nuclear war wasn't good for Magneto, no matter what some idiot councilors thought. It's not like mutants would escape the effects, except for some outliers that would happen to have some sort of radiation immunity or something.

At least so far, these past two weeks hadn't led to any more missiles blasting off. From anyone.

No one had yet gone back to that hot red button, Justin working frantically behind the scenes to ensure it. He needed Africa. And he wouldn't put it past Wakanda to somehow make the entire continent an irradiated hellhole out of pure spite - if people fired more nukes at them.

There hadn't been any more strikes from Wakanda as well, either they'd destroyed enough of Wakanda's Air Force and special forces, to force them into turtle mode - or they didn't want to risk one of their ships being taken. One of the only ways they could infiltrate the nation with their shield up.

And if they knew that. Wakanda definitely knew that.

Shortly after Justin had sat down for his first World Security Council meeting, the African Union, buyoed by support from everyone. Advanced on Wakanda with whatever forces they could get close. Buyoed by a mercenary company or three.

Klaue had happily arranged for several mercenary companies to be available to serve at the pleasure of the African Union.

Not a real invasion or anything of the sort, they didn't have the capability to really work that quickly, what they did have was tons of artillery, dumped cheaply on them over the years - from primarily the US and Russia, as they divested themselves of old stock.

The force field protecting Wakanda's capital was no secret anymore, not with artillery pounding it day and night, twenty four/seven. The African forces were not yet heavy enough to do much more than guard their artillery, as it kept up the fire, more shells delivered everyday from the leading military nations of the world to ensure the fire never let up.

Justin had read the reports, everyday single soldiers snuck out from Wakanda, decimating a few artillery groups completely on their lonesome.

Ghosts in the night, moving faster than should be humanly possible, and able to wreck artillery pieces by hand.

And every day, grim faced African soldiers, knowing they'd likely die before the leading nations would arrive to take over - brought more artillery forward, retook their positions, and kept firing, waiting for the super soldiers to come kill them.

Because apparently Wakanda had more than one now, because of course they did. Justin shook his head, marching through a luxurious marble hallway, portraits of some of the richest and most influential business tycoons in history on the walls. He made a face as he spied a portrait of Howard Stark on the wall, at least Tony hadn't made it yet. And likely never would once his heroic bent became public…

His thoughts returned to Wakanda and how they'd managed to light even more of a fire under the world's superpowers, all of them marshaling as much as they could, even via proxy in some cases - like China.

Losing a fleet hadn't made the superpower give up, it had simply changed the way they projected their power in the region, Wakanda's neighbors becoming inundated in Chinese strings, as support, slowly trickled in.

Like the Vibranium hadn't been enough, now the world had the scent of a possible mass produced super soldier program. They'd never stop until Wakanda was owned, lock stock and barrel. Everyday soldiers and equipment were flowing through Spain into Africa, NATO moving quickly to reinforce the haphazard AU response force.

USAFRICOM only had about 5000 soldiers in North east Africa, but as their base kept being reinforced, soldiers trickled down towards Wakanda, supporting the AU with expert advice, and scouting places for forward bases for when the American army would arrive.

Possibly, the constant artillery fire was keeping the Wakandan ships behind their shields, or possibly they chose not to use them for a second strike after all. Justin didn't know, neither was it his concern right now. For the past two weeks, they seemed at least manageable, and besides…

Erik Stevens had passed all tests after Project Killmonger concluded with a tentative success, and was already on his way to Wakanda. After he'd had a quick one week vacation with Domino, to allow the woman to relax.

He'd either succeed at his task, or die without much loss for Justin. Other than Domino whining over losing her boytoy.

At least Justin had given him something to come home to, he had a feeling Domino was a wild one.

The major stress over the last two weeks hadn't been Wakanda. Not for Justin. It had partly been in having to deal with Alexander Pierce trying to butter him up, while obviously attempting to manipulate the World Security Council at the same time.

How the hell Fury hadn't suspected the man he didn't know, he practically exuded a - you can trust me, I'm a good guy - aura. That should have made Fury suspicious as hell! The scariest fuckers in politics were the ones that appeared honest and believable, because no one in politics were honest.

Justin did not want anything to do with HYDRA, but neither did he want to kick things off too early, it made the man endlessly frustrating to deal with. He couldn't kill him, couldn't tell him to fuck off, and couldn't just agree with him either, because the last thing he wanted was the invitation to become a HYDRA head to add to everything else.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as they exited the lavish elevator, now far below Bern, the area ahead of them bristling with both automated turrets and heavily armed guards. To Justin's amusement they already carried his shield batons and energy weapons. He hoped his people had charged them extra. They could afford it.

They arrived at an antechamber with enough splendor to make a French monarch blush - the Amber room… Looted from Russia by the Nazis, never to be found again after the war. And it was used as an antechamber for the Universal Bank's most secret conference room, well, one mystery solved.

Justin shook his head at the waste, eyes taking in the beautiful amber panels, with their golden leaf decorations and shining mirrors. Idly he entertained the thought of stealing it for his own mansion, but what was the point? He hadn't actually stepped a foot in it for the past two years, always traveling.

And this room, once called the eighth wonder of the world… Was used as a waiting room for the bodyguards of the top one percent of the richest one percenters. Or the ones with the most power and the will to use it, anyway.

Someone like Tony Stark could never fit in here.

Justin gave Domino and Phantazia a serious look, before he continued on through the gilded doors, several of the bodyguards already lounging in the amber room were people he recognized, which said something about the firepower in that room alone. Albeit he only knew them from Domino and Phantazia's dossiers.

Elektra sitting there… The Kingpin must be in attendance then - good, Fisk owed Justin 50 bucks from way back when he'd been less. Also, Phantazia had seen Bullseye in the attack on him at this headquarters, so either the guy was moonlighting for Roxxon or Oscorp… Or Fisk had tried to kill him too…

Justin was kind of offended that the Kingpin had thought Bullseye alone would have been enough. Perhaps he'd have the opportunity to rub it in his face today.

As he strolled on through the ostentatious hallway leading to the secure bunker deep under the Universal Bank, his thoughts strayed to the other part of his great mountain of stress these past weeks.

Fucking Hank fucking Pym.

He'd earned both curses added to his name.

Justin had hoped that going through Hope - would give him an edge. Even if unfortunately he hadn't even had time for a dinner with her yet, to reconnect and work the slow route, circumstances had forced his hand, he hadn't wanted to deal with Hank until closer to the Ant-Man movie events.

Now that was shot to hell.

Hope had been tentatively onboard with his plants to reopen the Suez, seeing not only the good for the world, but the absolute windfall for Pym technologies in such an endeavor, especially partnered with Hammer industries who right now held the public's adoration.

As soon as they brought Hank into the picture, it all crashed down. The cantankerous old fossil flat out refused to use his particles in such a showy way. Declaring it too dangerous, too likely to risk retaliation, thievery, or outright assassinations.

Which… He wasn't wrong. But like Justin had done, there were things one could do to mitigate the risks. And more people wanted him dead than anyone else on the planet right now. Except maybe T'Chaka, that man was universally being lumped in with the likes of Hitler and Stalin in western media right now.

For two weeks they'd been negotiating, trying to find a way forward. The nations of the world were leaning hard on Justin now, China reminding him daily of his promise to fix the Suez canal. Pressure was building, you could not tell the president of China to chill.

He'd known Hank would be an issue. But he hadn't expected this kind of pure rank - fuck the world - attitude. The man had been a hero once for fuck's sake.

He really didn't want to be forced to lean on Magneto for this.

He had one last card to play. Janet. But he really didn't want to add more of them to the picture - when the end goal was supposed to be him gaining at least some control over Pym technologies, Hope his eventual subordinate or at least collaborator.

Finally he entered the conference room, for all the previous glitter, it was a simple room, no different than a thousand other conference rooms, with a simple, heavy, wooden round table in the middle, the chairs all occupied but one, Justin's seat.

He hadn't even known about this place until his invitation, which irked him. Wasn't he rich and influential enough before? Hadn't he held enough power?

Apparently not.

"Fashionably late, are we, Hammer? For your first meeting as well, tch!" Tiberius Stone said acidicly, the good looking media mogul was a contemporary of Tony Stark, (having gone to school with him) His perfectly coiffed dark hair and tanned skin did nothing to hide his greedy, piercingly blue eyes. He leant forward and looked Justin over with a slimy leer, "I could teach you manners at my feet, I promise I'll be gentle… At first."

Justin didn't even bother replying, glancing over at him, unimpressed. Frankly, he was attractive enough that Justin might have taken him up on the offer, but his personality was rotten. Also he had once been close to Tony Stark, that said enough for Justin to not want anything to do with the man.

His international media empire was useful, and although he wasn't as rich as most here, his soft power was indeed worthy of inclusion, but Justin could just buy ads and anchors of his to get his point out, there would be no need to suck up, or suck off, Tiberius Stone for it. Tiberius knew where his bread was buttered, he wouldn't move against Justin for such a tiny thing as personal slight.

"I'm not a man well used to waiting" Wilson Fisk rumbled, tapping his thick fingers on the wooden table, his signature white suit on, the large man towering over everyone else at the table.

Fisk industries was a fortune 500 company, not to Hammer's level, but his other activities added up, and had apparently bought him a seat at this table. Justin sat down smoothly, on the only open seat, opposite of the Kingpin of New York. "Perhaps if all of you had bothered to invite me before the recent… Excitement… I would have had time to arrive promptly." Justin said, a cold sneer on his face. None here were really his allies after all, "As it was, I was busy ensuring we don't all die in a nuclear holocaust." He paused briefly, lifting an eyebrow, giving the table a long sarcastic look, "You're all welcome…"

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

The lack of appreciation of his wit around the table, showed that the richer one got, the less fun one became, except Justin himself, of course.

"No need to be so confrontational everyone, we're all honest to god enemies here." Sebastian Shaw said good naturedly from where he sat next to Justin. Even while wearing a dark pinstripe suit that likely cost a fortune, he had the look of a boxer, his square jaw and muscled torso looking ill fitting in such a suit.

His eyes were those of a shark though, beady and filled with barely hidden blood lust - someone well used to savaging his prey, whether business or personal.

Justin didn't have many dealings with Shaw industries - albeit he did do some business, he always needed steel after all. He knew Shaw had diversified his company and spread globally, not a simple steel magnate any longer since at least a decade - a man that had deserved his seat at the table. Justin gave him a slight nod, acknowledging his attempt at keeping them on track. For whatever this was.

"Hammer has made waves, sure, but I'm more interested in the first woman to ever make it to this table…" Dario Agger, Roxxon's CEO drawled lazily, drawing every eye to where Emma Frost, newly crowned CEO of Frost international sat, calm as can be, she could almost be mistaken for a barbie doll, not a hair out of place, and her expression entirely motionless and giving no clues to how she felt about being singled out.

"Ah, yes, poor Winston, he died at the UN bombing didn't he?" Shaw said, amusement practically wafting off him even as he gave Emma a predatory grin.

Justin raised an eyebrow, looking at Emma speculatively, there's a story there… He'd heard Winston Frost had died, but he'd been too busy to look into it, "What on earth was the CEO of Frost international doing at the UN, not I think, a place Winston held dear?" He asked, already having a good idea, but unable to help himself from needling a business rival.

Emma smiled sardonically, meeting Justin's eyes, he idly noted she was just as attractive as her photo, even with her eyes looking chillier than the arctic."He was found amongst the rubble, so he must have had a meeting there, we don't know more than that unfortunately. My father was a very private man, and he didn't share his agenda with anyone but his assistant, who also unfortunately perished in the attack."

Frost international would likely soar thanks to Justin, they had heavy shipping interests and with the economy on an upwards trajectory, Justin needing heavy imports for Africa for a decade plus, she'd profit immensely. Their Cold Steel weapons division was likely doomed with Hammer, Osborn, and Stark all leagues ahead and only going to go stronger now, until Stark threw his tantrum anyway.

"You sound heartbroken." Norman Osborn murmured, although audible enough for the table to hear, the CEO of Oscorp looking bored, slumped against the table with none of the decorum the others held, a sign he'd already taken steps perhaps... Justin was trying to ignore the fact that apparently Osborn of all people had been invited before him…

A likely already half insane Osborn to boot. At least Stark wasn't here. Even without the kidnapping, Justin doubted he'd have received an invite to this kind of meeting.

It was becoming a bit of a habit now, first the World Security Council, now this? What was next? How many 'secret' clubs were there?

He wished he was dealing with the Osborn he half remembered from a Spiderman movie - one dumped by his company, at the brink of economic ruin. But no, Oscorp was strong, very diversified in several sectors, and with the way they were ordering Justin's batteries… Their often rumored power armor might soon become reality, further increasing Osborn's fortune.

Justin ignored him, his eyes focused on Emma, wondering if she'd really killed her father because she'd seen a good opportunity, then buried him in the rubble to blame Wakanda. Vicious girl…"Condolences for your loss." Justin said, a wry smirk on his face as he tilted his head slightly, acknowledging she'd done quite well if she'd pulled that off so flawlessly - that none but her equals (or betters) would suspect her.

Emma met his eyes again, a charming tilt to her lips suddenly, as her eyes grew almost imperceptibly warmer. "Thank you, for your consideration." With her almost smile, came a sharp feeling against his mind, her smile dying out quickly as she winced, looking away from him to hide the reaction. Not that anyone at the table missed it.

The kind of people at this meeting weren't the kind to miss any reactions.

Justin narrowed his eyes, his smirk thinning, he'd felt a mental attack just then, he was pretty sure. Emma Frost was a telepath of some kind then… A mutant? Or something else?. That… Would make business with, or against her, difficult. He'd have to meet her himself from now on if he wanted to stand a chance in any dealings with Frost international, any of his people as a go between and she'd run circles around them if she could just dip into their heads.

He hoped her range was limited… Or Domino and Phantazia would be giving her a treasure trove of information right now from the Amber room… With the kind of meeting this was though, he doubted she was capable of multitasking and diverting her attention away from them all, he hoped as much at least.

At least the most vital information did not rest anywhere but his own head.

Thankfully the Vanko's had come through shortly after he'd met with Xavier - he'd pushed pretty hard, which turned out to be the right decision or Frost would have taken him for everything in this meeting…

He had, since only a few days ago, two small metal implants behind his ears that were projecting a field through his skull that completely stopped anything like telepathy from breaking through to his brain, and therefore his mind. Supposedly.

Apparently it worked, they hadn't exactly been able to test it, so confirmation was good. The fact he'd felt the attack bounce off him, was even better.

It was an old soviet invention, abandoned because after weeks of use after implanting them in people's heads, they'd invariably eventually boil their brains, killing them. Not very effective for any normal human.

Justin had Extremis however, so while the Vanko's looked to improve upon the process, he'd had the implants installed anyway - a lucky boon considering what he just discovered. His mind, protected by a field that would slowly over the course of weeks do micro damage to his brain while heating it up to the point of brain death. It was not a threat to someone who constantly regenerated after all, the damage healed immediately - apparently it did just fine against a telepath, good to know before he met Xavier again…

Justin gave Emma a sharp smile, they'd have to talk, after this. He now had some leverage.

A middle aged Asian man in a dark leather tunic, coupled with fancy jewelry across his arms, slammed a hand down on the table, scowling, "I did not call this meeting to socialize, are we done with pointless chattering? Yes? Can we get to the point?"

Justin leaned back in his chair, eying the man with his glasses, surreptitiously doing a facial search, finding nothing, which made him frown. At least his glasses were still overlooked in all security checks, but to find nothing, considering the kind of company he was in. It was odd. "I don't even know who you are?" Why should I listen to you? Was the meaning and it was heard clearly between the lines.

"Xu Wenwu. If you are unaware of me, then I shall not educate you, it holds no benefit to me." Wenwu said coldly in accented English, the rings spinning lazily across his arms, Shaw tensing next to Justin at the sight, the rest of the table looking more attentive as well. Osborn even got up from his slouching posture.

Justin let out a hum, gesturing with one arm, "Get on with it then." He said genially, not quite willing to antagonize someone in this MCU world who he had no knowledge of, and who the powerful people at this table beheld with some wariness. He eyed the rings around the man's arms with pensiveness. Ten rings? Surely… Surely not? Aren't they middle eastern? Is this a change? Justin thought, brows furrowing.

What he knew about them… Did not merit a position at this table. Which meant what he knew... Was wrong.

Wenwu kept the scowl as he looked around the table, "I created this society hundreds of years ago, to meet and make use of… Those titans of the world who would most affect and use the tides of change across the world." His intense, dark eyes met Justin's, "Change has come, it is up to us to influence where it ends, and to all our benefit."

Justin was inwardly freaking out just a little. Hundreds of years? He was meeting with an immortal? "As the one that threw the rock that sent the ripples across the world - why should I care?" He said with bravado, looking around the table, "We all do business anyway, more or less, why do your opinions matter to what I do?"

Just because he was off balance, didn't mean he'd roll over either, if that was why this meeting was called, if this is why he'd been invited to this…

Immortal or not, Justin wouldn't let himself be slowed down by anyone, especially someone that had failed in hundreds of years to gain as much as Justin had in just a few.

Osborn laughed sharply, "Hammer, this isn't about that, this isn't the nice and pretty outside world, this is where we get real, where we slice up the world between us, to benefit only ourselves."

"There is… Benefits to cooperation." Fisk said slowly, his gaze sweeping across the table, "We will compete between each other in business." Fisk waved a hand dismissively, "As is our norm." His size made it easy for the man to look over the table as he continued, "Yet we could still profit by clearing the table, all of us moving forward with an understanding."

Emma Frost tossed her hair irritably, "To think we would not sabotage each other even then is naive, none of us would shirk an advantage."

Justin wondered if the other men around the table held some kind of anti-telepathy devices or other defenses, or if Frost was taking everything from them. It was interesting that the woman who so obviously could control her every reaction, openly showed irritation. Was she trying to get them to underestimate her?

Like Justin, she was new, and like him, she also obviously wondered what this was actually about, because no one would be doing the others a favor, they just didn't work like that.

"That's just normal business, give and take. This would be an understanding of a sphere of influence for each of us, of goals, not getting into each other's way too much." Agger said. The Greek man, with his slick hair and olive skin, looked more like an actor than the CEO of a multinational company. Especially one as dubious as Roxxon.

"The entire world is my sphere of influence." Justin answered him, refusing the idea of cooperation in the form of an alliance, handily.

Everyone at the table, eyeing each other, looking for weakness.

He met Agger's gaze, smirking sardonically, "So you're going to stop trying to kill me then, in the spirit of cooperation? Is that it?" He sniped, the Roxxon CEO tossing his head back and laughing, an obvious no.

So what was the point?

Shaw shook his head, "You're all playing this wrong, Hammer won't listen if you try and play cute." He drawled, eying Justin shrewdly, "Neither will dear Emma, you've got to lay the cards on the table, no one made it this far by being trusting or stupid."

Tiberius Stone snorted loudly, "Or they made it here by being exceptionally stupid." He mocked.

Wenwu sighed quietly, "Everytime I do this, the arrogance of those seated at this table never abates… Fine. I will lay it out clearly." He said sharply, eyes hard.

"The point of our gathering is not to ally together, because people like us do not gather allies. It is to clear the path for all of us to benefit through the chaos. To take advantage, to temporarily lessen our rivalries for the benefit of all of us - for a short time… To work, not together, but adjacent. All of us benefiting, in our own ways…"

"We all have our own spheres of influence." Fisk said as Wenwu appeared to be finished, leaning back in his chair, staring at us all imperiously. "We all have men bought, companies subverted, nations willing to look the other way. Combined, even if only by loose strings, we are unstoppable."

Stone straightened his tie, a greedy look in his eyes, "I would of course gladly assist all of you, the media at your disposal, for a fat fee, of course, but I would be willing to prop all of you up, and your rivals down… For awhile, while it's interesting enough."

"Sounds like an alliance to me." Osborn muttered, "This whole discussion is schizophrenic." He scoffed, a thin smirk blooming onto his lips, "We're all such good friends, I'm sure it will all work out…"

Justin held back a laugh by pure force of will, because for that to come out of Osborn's mouth of all of them? That was actually hilarious. Talk about throwing rocks in glass houses, schizophrenic indeed…

"No… Not an alliance… A truce. A temporary focus on our own spheres without competition, allowing us to grow unhindered over the length of said truce…" Emma said slowly, eying Wenwu with a hint of unease on her face, "What I can't gather… Is what you get out of this?" Her suspicions were matched with Justin's, the others seemingly already aware of the man, in a way the newcomers were not.

Finding out was now on top of Justin's to do list. Well… Maybe top ten. His to do list was fucking big right now.

Wenwu's smile was unpleasant, "What I gain is my business."

He didn't elaborate, silence falling around the table as they all eyed each other.

Justin pondered it. A truce. These companies were his rivals. But realistically, nothing he did would ever bankrupt any of them, most of them operated in too many countries, too many different businesses, for Justin to harm all of them.

There was something to be said for allowing even his rivals to grow, in their own sectors, without Justin's interference, and in return, receive none back either. For however long that would last.

Like they'd already brought up, normal corporate espionage and sabotage was still on the table. That was just business. But how much could he benefit if he didn't have to worry about the Kingpin blowing up one of his factories, or Osborn sinking or stealing a ship full of exoskeletons, etc. To avoid the kind of corporate war that the current economic free for all would invite.

It was tempting. Very tempting.

"How long, this truce? How long would we be able to do this before we start betraying each other?" Agger asked, a wide grin on his face, "It's interesting isn't it? To see the massive profit, while always wondering. Is today the day?"

Shaw's answering grin was sharp, "A year, I doubt we'd last longer." He looked around the table, meeting the eyes of all of the participants, "One year, where we race forward grasping all the benefits and profit there is out there right now, not getting in each other's way more than the minimum amount…" He tilted his head, eyeing Justin, "I would even be willing to entertain actual cooperation with Hammer industries, it would be beneficial for both of us…"

"Three of the people at this table have tried to kill me already." Justin said mildly, meeting Shaw's eyes, "Just because you're not one of them, yet. Does not mean we can work together." Justin wasn't willing to ally with these people, they were like him, all too likely to come up with a plan to take over the other's company, all too willing to kill to get what they want - so very like him. The truce however… It held some promise.

If he could extract a promise they'd hold off on trying to kill him for the year. It would save him a headache. That alone almost made it worth it. It's not like these people could compete in the two most important sectors he was pushing ahead in right now, Energy and Healthcare. Even in communications he was leagues ahead, none of these people big in the telecom sector.

"Tentatively I could see myself drawing up a theoretical map of all our interests and negotiating a plan for the next year where we all profit and stay off each other's toes." Justin said, because it would be a good deal for him.

After all, his plans were fairly set for the next year, nothing these rival companies would do would massively affect his profits, the field where they most intersected was the weapons industry, and there was room for all of them there with the war and the rearmament underway.

Roxxon would likely concentrate on taking over the rest of the oil and coal industry, neither going to go under as the public panicked about, but with stock tanking due to public hysteria and sell offs, smaller companies were just there for the taking for Roxxon.

Viastone and all the companies owned by Tiberius - laid in sectors none of the others touched, and he was easily the one most eager to see some sort of truce, as he'd see profit rising for his companies from all of them. There really were no drawbacks for him.

Oscorp had their power armor and forays into genetics to go with their more regular businesses. Not to mention all the electronics they supplied for the space program and for the US navy.

Fisk in construction and logistics would financially benefit the most for all of them concentrating on solidifying their separate holds on industry. Since Hammer would focus on Africa, their construction companies would not be competing anyway, not really.

And they'd all use logistics companies heavily, especially Justin. And those like Fisk and Frost would profit, without having to lift a finger.

Frost equally would earn much due to her interests in the shipping industry, and likely would benefit heavily by avoiding any territorial disputes, as the new CEO put her own mark on the various subsidiaries of the company.

Shaw… He was the dark horse in this, while steel was where he'd cut his teeth, he had an empire in the financial and banking sector, in healthcare as well - where Justin would have seriously harmed him. He also had logistics interests, which clashed with Fisk and Frost - who were bigger fish in that arena. Would he truly be content with this? Cutting up sections of the economy for all of them, when he stood to lose more than anyone at the table?

He'd still make billions, so it wasn't really losing. But to people like them, missing out on profit was losing.

Then there was Wenwu, Justin eyed him, his expression hard to read, I have no idea what he gets out of this? Except maybe, if he has influence in Asia, he takes a cut of anything that comes through there?

"I can't, however, agree to this while people at this table keep trying to kill me…" Justin laid out, breaking the silence that had persisted after his last comments.

"Slanderous!" Stone called out, eyeing Justin with a hungry gaze, "Feel like going on the air and repeating that? I'll cut you in for a tiny slice."

Osborn cackled, eyes glittering with hints of something dark and ugly underneath, "Scared Hammer?" He purred, both hands splayed out on the table as he leaned forward with a demented grin.

Wenwu cracked the table with one of the rings, the spinning and glowing ring flowing off his arm, a crack running through the heavy table, almost breaking it in half, silencing them all, his gaze heavy, a pressure pushing down against them, "Hammer has a demand that is not unreasonable, will you comply, or shall we move on with three less in agreement?" He said in a measured tone, slowly meeting the eyes of Osborn, Agger, and Fisk.

Agger sighed, scratching his chin, "I suppose for profit, I can lean on the people in my company that might have been a tad overzealous." He offered, even here, lying through his teeth. If he hadn't personally signed off on the assassination attempt Justin would eat his glasses.

He wondered briefly if Agger was aware of Simon Krieger and his idiocy…

The Kingpin simply nodded slowly, giving Wenwu a measured look, Wenwu taking that as enough agreement as he turned to Osborn. His piercing gaze flashing with distaste, "Are you a part of this Osborn? I require an answer now."

Osborn muttered to himself, before grinning toothily, "One year? Fine. I can do one year…"

Wenwu nodded sharply, "Then let's discuss how this truce shall work."

＊＊＊

Hours later,

Private jet, Swiss airspace.

Justin sat in silence, pondering the recent events. They'd ended up coming to an agreement in the end.

Then, they'd all been forced to promise him even more - because they'd all figured out Justin could regenerate somehow, and they all wanted it.

Knowing Emma at least was likely a mutant, he'd frankly told the table it was currently not safe for mutants, which had cooled some of the interest. Notably Shaw, Osborn and Frost all ended up not making deals about meeting with him regarding Extremis.

Justin wasn't eager to empower his rivals, but he also had the ability to cancel their regeneration, not that he advertised that. So to make his rivals harder to kill to anyone but him, wasn't as big of a loss as it first appeared.

Tiberius Stone hadn't even waited for a personal meeting to offer his deal, a contract for a full out media blitz on Justin's behalf for a year across the globe, for free. And a lifetime contract on a price match deal - if anyone tried to buy ads attacking him or his companies, Stone would let Justin know, and allow him to match the offer, and replace those ads with his own. For life.

Regeneration wasn't a small thing for men such as these.

In return for all of that, Tiberius would get the regeneration treatment.

Fisk, Agger and Wenwu had all scheduled private consultations, Justin would need to find out more about Wenwu before then. To find out what he could achieve and if it was worth giving an unknown immortal any advantage at all.

Osborn hadn't asked for anything, or requested a meeting. Justin pursed his lips in thought, of all of them, he'd seemed the most unstable. He was going to be a problem…

Shaw and Frost both wanted meetings, albeit they hadn't pushed too hard for Extremis, just enough to appear to want the same thing as the rest of them.

He was fairly sure now that Shaw must be a mutant as well…

Either way, he'd make them all pay dearly for it, Shaw and Frost as well once they'd ensured Extremis and the X-gene played nice.

Perhaps…

Justin's mind was protected from Xavier now… Could Shaw or Frost produce mutants for testing? Justin had promised Xavier that he would not perform such unethical tests anymore.

What the bald man didn't know couldn't hurt him…

He'd have to think about it. Weigh the risks. It all depended on how slow the more ethical testing would proceed.

His thoughts turned to Roxxon's CEO, the man wanted regeneration pretty badly. Justin grinned darkly to himself at the thought.

He wouldn't like how high Justin would set the price.

When you played in this league, money didn't buy anything, Agger would have to be creative.

He looked forward to fleecing the bastard.

Elena sat down next to him, offering him a plate of beautifully prepared lobster risotto. "I doubt you had time to eat, you need to look after yourself better."

Justin chuckled warmly, accepting the plate, "You know I can handle more than the average man right? Regeneration and all that…" He pointed out.

Elena smirked, tossing her hair with a mock superior look, "Yes, but still, you are only a man, if you were a woman you'd be able to take care of yourself without prompting." She teased.

Justin snorted, amused at her cheek, "Didn't take you long to take after Domino. All my employees are too impertinent." He complained without any heat behind it.

"Maybe if you stopped sleeping with them, they wouldn't feel free to sass you." Phantazia said flatly from where she was seated across from them, working on a laptop.

"I'm only human." Justin said easily, "Have you seen the women and men around here, all tens." He shook his head, they didn't know his suffering, surrounded by models.

"Yes. Your life is suffering." Phantazia drawled. Elena hiding a chuckle behind one hand.

My people are too mean. Justin thought, digging into his excellent food, finding he was suddenly starving. Wouldn't change them for anything though…

He needed to get Extremis working for his mutants…

Losing them now was unthinkable.

＊＊＊

He briefly returned to his London Headquarters, dropping off Elena and Phantazia, before he moved on again.

He needed to strike while the iron was hot, his people were already buying up land in several locations in Africa, and in one case, an already built bunker that they'd purchased from the Libyan government.

It had been built as a fallback position for the head of state with capabilities to run the country and a military defense from the inside, so it would serve as a headquarters for him for now.

The war was an afterthought for him at the moment, he'd keep his defenses high, of course, in case Wakanda tried something. But he had a feeling they were too busy to care about him right now.

He had too many irons in the fire to not personally be nearby right now. So many of his companies rushing in to build, to survey, to prepare.

Thousands of his employees were already here, or on their way. The plans after all had been there for long enough already, now it just needed to be implemented.

And there were still negotiations to be had. Most importantly, he had a tragedy to take advantage of.

The destruction of the UN building had killed off a large amount of central authority and more importantly, the people who held the purse strings for many of the UN organs that operated in Africa.

There were regional offices in Nairobi and Addis Ababa, but they all received funding through the secretariat from the UN building in New York. Those bank accounts were not as simple to open up when the majority of the people with authority to touch them were dead.

The UN needed to be put back together again from the chaos and ruin, and the world… Just wasn't interested right now. The focus was on Wakanda. So the UN was in limbo, most of its leadership destroyed - and almost the entirety of its central bureaucracy.

UNESCO and UNIDO had already done plenty of good work in Africa, as had other less well known UN organs.

Justin intended to enact a gentle takeover. Offering money and support, while slowly folding the Africa branches of the organs into Hammer industries as its charity wing. Taking advantage of their reputation and adding it to his own, building his reputation in Africa even further.

The UN would eventually pull together again, so he didn't have forever, but with the situation in Africa, he had faith.

People did not join these kinds of organizations if they weren't interested in helping people, and they'd see him as someone capable of ensuring they could continue to help.

He didn't foresee too many difficulties. Especially when he could use Tiberius Stone to spin the media angle to ensure he came off as a savior, not an industrial magnate taking advantage.

He'd build up the infrastructure and business with one hand, while with the other, he'd build schools, distribute food and supplies, and look after the poor.

Who he'd eventually be able to turn into Hammer employees.

While hammering down the view into the mind of everyone on the continent - that only he was behind all this help, only Justin, not the UN, not their governments, Justin Hammer.

He would ensure no country here would ever turn on him, making sure his space industry would never risk destruction from foolish governments or the stupid press of the unwashed masses.

They'd be his, heart, mind and soul.

… If everything went as he'd planned.

First though… Another stop.

Because Emma Frost had already reached out. Someone was eager. She'd barely waited hours to schedule a meeting.

He'd hit Rome on his way to Africa.

See what the telepath wanted.

＊＊＊

London headquarters,

Eileen frowned, eyes following Mike Capinari on CCTV as he walked towards the security control center on the tenth floor. Eileen had made sure to become intimately aware of the security team that was responsible for her boss' personal security, in any location. And Mike walked with a slight hitch in his steps from an old injury he'd refused to have healed. (Men were idiots) It was almost there, almost perfect, but Eileen knew Mike was used to his old injury to the point he was completely unaware of it anymore while moving, this Mike… Was too aware of his walk.

A perfect replica, walking exactly like the original, but… The walk was just… Too focused on being perfect.

Raven… Again? Give it a rest… She thought with a mix of exasperation and anger.

Working for Hammer had given her a level of satisfaction she'd never had working for any of her clients, or even from back when she was running with the brotherhood - back when she'd been a dumb girl with a naive and idealistic outlook on life.

She had fond memories of the people there, but… The older she got, the more she realized how flawed their philosophy was. How Erik was still caught in the past, to the point he couldn't really see the future, not truly.

She'd left for mercenary work, her skills ideal for such a life, and her newly discovered cynicism a good fit for that kind of work. Even if she'd never truly cut ties completely, keeping her contacts, albeit rarely reaching out.

The constant infiltrations by Mystique… Was making her look bad. Was threatening her position now. There were only so many times it could be excused, eventually even Domino wouldn't be able to prevent Hammer from starting to distrust her.

Their London headquarters held too many secrets, nothing truly disastrous, because Eileen had made sure nothing of that was in any known Hammer Industries location. But still, she could not allow Mystique to sneak in and achieve her objective. Considering her destination…

Likely to place bugs, or hack into the security mainframe to make it easier to infiltrate again in the future, likely when her boss was in residence.

"If Mike is hurt, Raven…" She sighed, speaking quietly to herself, the man was good, only his refusal to take Extremis due to his fixation with the injury that he'd earned saving his best friend's life, stopped him from becoming a member of the roving team following Hammer.

Instead he was one of the top members of the security team guarding his office.

He also had three young daughters, and Eileen would not be happy if Mystique had done anything that would make things difficult for his family. The security team had become incredibly tight knit, and even she, cold as she was, felt a kinship with the men and women serving in it. Most of them had been amputees, or suffering from other war injuries that had prevented a normal life.

Mike, with his happy family and fairly good life, was an outlier, which just made Eileen more intent on allowing him to keep that normalcy.

She played with the button in front of her, one of many in the security suite attached to Hammer's top floor office, the suite the real security hub of the building. Mystique was playing things carefully, going for the secondary station rather than risk the higher amount of checks on the top floor.

Eileen wouldn't kid herself and think that she didn't know where the real hub was. But there was still much one could do by compromising the secondary.

I can't let you keep doing this Raven… Sorry… This time… I like my life as it is now. And Hammer… He's a net positive for the world, the brotherhood… Can't do as much for Mutants as he can…

She pressed the button. Watching on CCTV as nozzles popped out of the ceiling all over the hallway. Raven, to her credit, immediately reacted, realizing she had been caught, sprinting down the hallway trying to evade the nozzles, but she was not fast enough.

And either way she wouldn't get away, every hallway in the building, and most offices - had the nozzles, the retrofit had been insanely expensive. But as this showed. Worth it.

The nozzles sprayed their payload, liquid spraying across the hallway quickly solidifying into a yellowish foam. The material Hammer called Confoam quickly enveloping Mystique, covering her, and the hallway, in the foam.

Hammer believed it would take more than a super soldier to tear themselves out, and it was breathable as well, so safe for a non lethal takedown.

Too bad it cost so much to make it that I was financially unviable to sell at the moment, no police department could ever afford it - and the military had a limited interest in non lethal means, especially at the cost.

For their own defenses though? Hammer spared no expenses.

Every member of the roving team that followed Hammer carried Confoam grenades now. To the cost of fifty thousand dollars a grenade. Luckily the foam did not expire as long as it was not exposed to air.

She directed security to the hallway, before moving herself, although they had access to the solvent to dissolve the Confoam, there was a chance they'd accidentally spray too much and release Mystique, so she'd better be down there in person, to ensure she was properly caught, and contained.

Erik might get pissy, but they obviously wouldn't hold her, just a nice chat, then she could return and report her failure, and hopefully take the first steps to an actual detente instead of these constant needling acts.

She raised her phone to her ear as she walked, the number already dialed.

"You wanted a discussion with Mystique, Boss… I've got her."

"I know you're already on your way, boss, shipping her has… Dangers… Fine. I'll arrange it."

You won't make a fool out of me again, no more favors, Raven. Choose a side. Eileen thought as she hung up.

I've chosen mine.

＊＊＊

Rome, Italy.

Emma Frost was used to dealing with things from a position of uncertainty and forced subordination.

Her father had seen to that. Wielding his children like tools, Winston had never held an iota of warmth for any of them.

Emma had worked under his aegis begrudgingly, never for pleasure. Helping him expand the business if for nothing else then to force him to keep his focus on her instead of her brother.

In the end it hadn't been enough. Her brother dead. In an 'accident' so obviously engineered by her father. All for the crime of being uninterested in being a monster, and the embarrassment to the family name due to being gay.

Emma had loved her brother, the only member of their family that she felt was an actual human being, meant for better than using and abusing every soul in sight. Her own power ensuring that Emma saw only the worst in humanity, deadening her feelings by necessity, making it easier for her to continue to deal cruelty in the name of their father.

Killing Christian had been her father's largest mistake in his career and life. Allowing Emma such total access to company resources had been the second.

Wakanda destroying the UN building while they were both in New York had seemed like a blessing, within minutes of the news, she'd reached out with her power, and without an ounce of hesitation, destroyed the minds of her father and his assistant - his security team already suborned by her power ages ago.

With her in the back of a limo, her father where he belonged - in the trunk. It had been child's play to arrive at the rubble that night, using her power to confuse all those present, her people already having hacked into all surveillance.

Less than an hour of work, and his father was buried in the rubble, the security team having great fun on Emma's behalf - bludgeoning her father's body to ensure he had the breaks consistent with being in a destroyed buildings collapse.

It wouldn't have held up to an autopsy, but Emma had simply ridden along in the minds of the crew doing it, ensuring they reported exactly what she wanted them too. And like that she was free.

… And then days later Sebastian Shaw forced her into the position of White Queen of the Hellfire club, somehow immune to her power, leaving her helpless.

She'd had no intention of moving up in that club, her position there in the first place had simply been as a pawn on her father's chess board. She'd been content with taking over her father's reins at Frost international, she didn't need to further sink into the scum pond that was the Hellfire club.

Her fists clenched, the only visible sign of distress she allowed, as she thought back on the humiliation. Of Shaw's initiation ceremony. Of taking what he wanted, her power for the first time, useless… Shaw stealing something from Emma that she would one day ensure he would suffer tenfold from…

Now… To make matters worse, she needed to deal with Justin Hammer. The man obviously had noticed her mental probe at the meeting in Bern. She hadn't dared to even attempt the other men after that. With both Shaw and Hammer immune - she didn't need to out herself to even more enemies.

She shouldn't have even tried Hammer, but she had been intensely curious, the man had thrown the world into chaos, she'd wanted to see who he was, really.

As always when she made a choice out of anything but cold logic, that had failed her.

Hammer was on his way, even now. For negotiations. Emma was tentatively interested in the regeneration treatment if he could get it to work for mutants. But that wasn't her main concern, neither was any rivalry with Hammer industries - they did not intersect fields of business - except for Cold steel, a subsidiary she would happily divest herself of anyway.

… Perhaps she could rid herself of that and appease Hammer at the same time. Food for thought. She'd have to think on it, Hammer didn't need Cold steel, so how could she entice him to take it as payment?

Her fingers tapped the laptop in front of her, Hammer's intelligence profile pulled up. The man had changed markedly in two years, more than was reasonable really. It had piqued her interest.

There was something going on there, she felt. She didn't dare poke around in the minds of his subordinates, not yet. She couldn't afford to be caught out if they also had defenses. She would already have to do enough to appease the man as it was.

She hated this, being forced into subservient behavior. But she knew Hammer had the upper hand here, knowing that she had abilities. Like suspecting her to be a mutant. She was also aware Shaw intented to offer him a position in Hellfire as well. Again putting her underneath a man, although hopefully one better than Shaw, the man was nothing but a beast in human skin.

She steeled herself, gaze cold. She was Emma Frost. She had lived through her father, she was a woman of immense power.

Hammer would not humiliate her.

She would match him, she would negotiate, and she would rise above all these fools.

This was all a minor setback.

She would persevere.

＊＊＊

New York, America.

Norman Osborn picked up the helmet, admiring the craftsmanship on the beastly mask, the fear it would inspire, a wild grin on his face.

Let them all play the game of industrialists, they'd never realize he was more, that personal power could achieve so much more than money could ever tease out.

There was something primal there, something from the annals of humanity, back when civilization had not yet weakened them so.

He'd been inspired when seeing the batteries Hammer had put out, seeing the serum he was hawking to everyone. Surely if Hammer could do something like that, then Norman's serum was superior.

He'd refused to believe otherwise, and it had shown promise, after all. And it had held true.

He grinned at the mask, feeling it grin back.

Yes… The serum worked perfectly.

＊＊＊