----------------------------------------
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!
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
"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.
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