For those who are curious about what it is like to be bitch slapped by the Juggernaut through a waffle house concrete wall, I can’t tell you. I have three different consciousness, three separate minds and awareness in a body that is a fully enhanced and unshackled Kree, the greatest warrior race to ever set their will upon the galaxy, except the Asgardians we don’t talk about, and the Inhumans which are sort of kind of ours but not really because Black Bolt telling you to fuck off would crack the earths crust. My physiology is the perfection to which lesser species can only look upon in awe.

I cannot tell you how it feels to get bitch slapped through the wall because all three of my brains got blasted out of consciousness, my lungs got compressed flat, and while my ribs and skull didn’t break cleanly, there were definitely fractures running through all of them. My flesh tore and my blue blood (not just a metaphor, we truly are a noble race!) was leaking everywhere. Juggernaut isn’t as strong as Warpath, but Warpath was doing his best not to kill anyone. Juggernaut does not give a fuck, and if he gets any kind of momentum the magic of the Juggernaut makes that momentum exponentially harder to oppose than the usual Force=Mass x Acceleration math that non magical muscle heads need to deal with.

If you want to know what makes a Kree panic, it is being physically outmatched by an enemy. Sure we have technological peers, we have numerically superior foes, but when our tech fails, we count on sheer Kree musclebrained racial supremacy and well polished jack boots to save the day. Juggernaut’s bitch slap knocked the supremacy right out of me and dragged up all those nested memories of battle from ancient Kree who survived long enough on the front lines of our endless Imperial stupidity to get past indoctrination and develop real combat prowess.

I was still in the wall when my blaster came up and I began servicing targets. Sure this weapon could be dialed down, but its base setting would kill an earth main battle tank, and I punched three rounds into Juggernauts center of mass before I successfully got a breath of air into my lungs. They ricochet off him in random directions. Two that hit his naked chest blasted back towards me and into the Waffle House interior, the one that hit his stupid leather and steel chest strap rig punched a neat hole through the leather but did not touch his skin. There was a force field on his skin that tanked rounds that would have put holes in an earth battle ship main armour belt or blown lengthways through a main battle tank.

Black Tom Cassidy pointed his shillelagh (fancy Irish word for whacking stick) at me, and two bolts of about a third my pistol’s power lanced back at me. Since I am not a main battle tank, my Mind Flayer reflexes did their best to redirect the beams, bending them around me. If your curious light is both a particle and a wave, and does have mass. Not much mass, but while that makes it hard to effect, it also means a very tiny amount of force applied to that mass can alter its vector as long as you aren’t stupid enough to try to stop it. Light speed makes any mass, however insignificant, a mother and a half to stop. I just bent it a little to the side, and he killed a Tesla.

I mean, I am not going to save my life and kill the beater of the Waffle House employee who needs it to get to work, but the owner can get a new Tesla. I may be inhuman, but I am a working class squid. The Tesla burned beautifully which is the first part of this fight that had gone right.

I lanced out my brain in a Mind Blast, a brutal brute force blast of mental energy that should have hammered that moron Juggernaut into twitching paste, but it only caused his great big domed helmet to ring like a bell, and caused Black Tom Cassidy to drop Echo. Echo for her part screamed in pain, which was weird because she had mental defenses not as strong but more sophisticated than my own. She should have been able, even semi-conscious to shrug that off. Then I noted the glowing technological collar at her throat. A mind suppression collar, it used nerve induction to send waves of howling static and junk nerve signal into a psionics or other mutants brain to make it impossible to control their powers. It wasn’t a power blocker, any more than you could say shoving a cattle prod up someone’s ass and triggering them into non stop muscle spasms is a way to stop thumb sucking. Sure you couldn’t do it, but it was because you were being tortured, not because you were being prevented from any specific behaviour. It didn’t even hurt you if you did something, it flooded you with overload continually, which is why so many people they used it on went clinically insane or suffered complete personality disjointment. I read the brief on those in SHIELD and former Director Carter was solidly in favor of using kill orders before “those torture devices”. I agreed.

Juggernaut spun and snarled at me.

“Get out of my head you mutant freak. I built this helmet to keep out my brother, and all you other little mind fuckers. Just for that, I am going to break you so badly all you can do is watch while I start the little Frost bitches training myself. See if a little mind fucker gets more reasonable given the real thing!”

I shot this time for his helmet, but Juggernaut threw an arm in front of his face to block the shots, and I had to use my legs plus telekinesis to jump over him as he plowed through the Waffle House, letting the roof collapse on top of him. However many people had not yet gotten out, would not be getting out. He really didn’t care who he killed.

Just to remind me that Juggernaut wasn’t alone, Black Tom Cassidy shot me with his shillelagh and the beams that came out of it. I didn’t have time to bend them, so my shield tried to stop them. Much of it got through, and it was like being hit with a sledgehammer. I could not bring my pistol to bear on him, and the pain made psychic attack a poor choice. Luckily, my Kree self had been working hard to turn the delicate capture and feeding tentacles of the mind flayer into weapons of blunt force trauma and ten thousand forms of improvised weaponry. Say what you will about the Kree, to them everything is a weapon, and every race is a natural born killer if only they let a Kree show them how.

How in this case was taking a Waffle House chair and Waffle House Wendy-ing Black Tom Cassidy. Sure it owed more to WWE Wrestling than it did to any conventional martial art, but my tentacles grabbed a Waffle house table and fired it like a discus at Black Tom Cassidy. He dodged the missile with a roll away from Echo, but I am telekinetic. If I chuck a Formica table at you like a frisbee of doom, you are doomed to be frisbeed. The table bend and dived on Black Tom like the IRS on undeclared assets, and he screamed as both his arms broke between elbow and wrist as he tried to stop the impossibly fast moving table.

Juggernaut blasted out of the rubble with a roar. The falling building, the explosion of the gas, the fire, none of it meant anything to him.

One thing did, he pointed to Black Tom Cassidy writhing in pain and screamed at me. “You hurt him, you die!”

I grabbed the power collar around Echo’s neck and put my Kree strength and my Telikinesis both into it as I tore it off her and screamed. “YOU WILL NOT COLLAR MY PEOPLE!”

I used my Telekinesis to shoot Echo over to Destiny and Marge to get her out of range. She was in no shape to fight right now, and against Juggernaut there was nothing she could do.

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Juggernaut charged me and I charged him back. Mind Flayers are terrified of anything they can’t see. To them eyes are secondary, or even tertiary after the infra red sensors and taste sensors in the tentacles, but the mind is the primary sensor. Something that lived and moved but we could not see with our minds was as deeply terrifying as anything the Kree could not brute force. Fortunately for me, the xenophobic racial superiority that forbid Mind Flayers from thinking outside the racial box had been shattered by merger with the Kree, and my little squidly Mind Flayer had been learning to think outside the box from the borrowed memory of a thousand dead Kree veterans.

We pumped rounds into Juggernauts face as he charged, this time he ducked his head low and spread his arms to catch us as he passed. The blasts of tank killing power did nothing whatsoever to Juggernaut, except blind him. His speed was not to be believed, and it was only with the use of our Kree reflexes and gymnastic vault experience that we could mirror what a Spaniard or ancient Minoan would recognize as a bull dancers vault, as we used his bullet head as a vaulting horse and flipped over him just as his huge hulk like hands slammed together in a blow that would have turned my ribs into kindling and my insides into pudding.

As Juggernaut planted a foot and spun in a reversal of momentum that again proved mystical expressions of unstoppable force don’t care about the physics, my tentacles wrapped around his helmet, as my arms and legs wrapped around his back. Anyone who has seen the start of Baldur’s gate video games remembers the scene of the Mind Flayer parasite burrowing into the helpless prisoners eye to burrow into their brain to begin the Mind Flayer cephalization. My problem with Juggernaut is that nothing I had could beat his force field physically, and nothing I could do mentally could beat his helmet. I would have to fix that.

Everyone knows the matador in bull fighting, the swordsman who strikes the final blow to kill the charging bull, but there are other players, the picadors who prod the bull with light lances to drive it insane with rage and pain so the matador can kill it with a single blow it would definitely have seen coming if it was allowed to think straight. I had to fight Juggernaut like a bull, and be both picador and matador. I spat my little parasite onto the back of his helmet, and the little murderous thing began the journey over the helmet to the eye hole, obedient to both my mental command and its own nature.

I then whispered into Juggernauts ear, well it wasn’t much of a whisper, but it was as disturbingly close as I could make it, riding a howling force of destruction.

“You threatened to rape Echo? That means your little force field just stops things damaging your skin, it won’t stop a little friendly penetration? How would you like to find out how that feels. Welcome to prison, bitch.” I shouted, slipping off his shoulders as his fists pounded into where I had been hanging.

I used my sapphire claws to rip his belt and pants, and yarded Juggernauts pants and yellow ducky boxers. Yes, yellow ducky. I had all three brains confirm I did indeed see yellow ducks on his boxers. Yank his boxers down around his knees.

Juggernaut spun with another backhand that I used a telekinetic assisted cartwheel to dodge moving again to his back, two tentacles sliding between his butt cheeks and yarding them apart.

“Peakaboo, I see you. Guess who is going to get a dose of wild tentacle love right up the unstoppable butthole, in front of the entire world!” I said, yanking my tentacles back before they were crushed. Not going to lie, his ass cheeks couldn’t crush a walnut, they could crush a diamond, but I had his attention.

Juggernaut roared as he charged at me, ripping his pants in half as they tried to trip him. He punched the ground so hard, I took damage from the fragments because I could not track let alone deflect them all, but I was motivated to keep moving. I punched him a half dozen times, and kicked him twice, cracking my own shin, but that was because my Kree reflexes could not be stopped before countering an enemy that didn’t even try to block. Didn’t try because he didn’t have to. My pistol, my punches, my kicks, my telekinetic hurled objects, even if I had my emotional support block of C-4 explosives from home, they still would not be enough to even scratch his skin. I just moved around him as fast as I could, keeping inside his reach where his size worked against him and my extra limbs and telekinetic boosts could keep me away from the fists and boots that would turn me into blueberry jam.

Then my little parasite got into his eye hole.

Can you imagine, living in fear your entire life of some mind controlling bastard getting into your brain, and suddenly a lamprey mouthed mind eating parasite slips inside the eye hole of your helmet and starts to wiggle between your eyelid and your eye, intent on worming its way into your brain? Logic would fail the most gifted thinkers, which Juggernaut was not. It could pry his eyelid up, but the forcefield would not actually let it inside. I don’t think Warpath with a hammer and chisel of adamantium could get something in that eye socket, but lets see you deal with a white wriggling toothy maw on your eyeball, wiggling up below your eyelid and lot lose your mind.

Juggernaut stopped what he was doing, and clawed his fingers into his telepathy blocking helmet and ripped.

The helmet came off, and the hate filled, fear filled, pain filled mind of Caine Marko, the Juggernaut blazed in my minds eye for the first time.

A massive fist big enough to blow my chest wall out my spine and through the building behind punched its own face so hard the cerebral parasite on his eye exploded into a pink mist, but it was too late. My tentacles snagged the helmet and tossed it to Destiny, Marge and Echo, while my mind lanced into Juggernaut, not with a brute force Mind Blast, but with a more focused directional attack.

I showed him the parasite wiggling into his brain, forcing him to rip off the ruby gem of Cyttorak that gave him his power and smash it to pieces. His hair fell out, and he put on an ill fitting suit and Xavier’s School For the Gifted tie, and he saw himself smiling like a servant and pushing his hated brother in law Charles around in his wheelchair for the rest of his life. Juggernaut fell to his knees and began pounding his own legs and weeping uncontrollably, his mind in a downward spiral of self hatred and despair that if the ruby gem of Cyttorak had not wrapped him in a protective power a nuclear weapon could not breach, I would worry about his suicide.

Instead, I dragged myself over to Echo, Marge and Destiny.

They were not alone.

Toad stood to one side, grinning. Wolverine stood to the other, sniffing the air and frowning.

Wolverine moved to step between the girls and me, but Toad lashed out with his tongue, forcing Wolverine to jump back.

Wolverine snarled. “Back off Toad, he isn’t one of yours.”

Toad handed me a business card. “You will not collar my people indeed. My card sir. It may be that my employer and you have similar sentiments, and goals.”

Wolverine puffed on his cigar. “You aren’t listening Toady. He isn’t one of ours.”

It was Echo who ended the conversation.

“He is one of mine. And we are overdue for some room service.” Echo said, grabbing me by a tentacle.

Destiny and Marge also grabbed a tentacle and began walking me back to the hotel. My Mind Flayer brain was picking up on some very disturbing thoughts, my Kree brain was entirely onboard with celebrating saving a damsel in distress with three damsels out of dresses altogether and my poor human straight laced SHIELD operative brain was terribly aware that all three of us were actual virgins, and none of our brains really knew how this equipment worked, since we had more aftermarket modifications than the Batmobile. Destiny and Marge had remarkably descriptive ideas about how it all went together and what could be done with it.

They had no idea, my Mind Flayer may have come from an asexual species that reproduced by sticking cerebral parasites in our victims, but given three hours of Hentai and a detailed telepath’s knowledge of how to both sense pleasure in others and stimulate pleasure in others, we were three virgins headed to a hotel room with three young ladies, one of whom was a fellow telepath, to boldly go where no hentai has gone before.

Behind me were two villains paid to kidnap Echo, both of whom I had crippled. Behind me were any number of dead, because I could not feel any mind glows from the Waffle House. Behind me was Wolverine of the X men, one of the deadliest killers on the planet who knew I was not human, and Toad, ally of Magneto who had decided I was……..useful against dear Professor X.

I can’t do anything about that.

We are getting room service, and then we are going to see what it is like to use my gifts to do something other than hurt people.