Marvel's Villainous Gacha 50 (Patreon)

While the city tried to process what had happened, Michael used his communicator. “Let’s bring back the mechs to the shore. After all, we just borrowed them,” he reminded the other pilots. He couldn’t close them remotely, but he didn’t care.

The only thing that was truly valuable in their mechs was the Yggdrasil drive, and the Mark I’s that he let out didn’t have it. Instead, they worked based on a cluster of miniature arc reactors.

Luckily, neither of them was stupid enough to potentially antagonize a cranky old villain who had single-handedly protected the city from an alien invasion. Soon, Michael stepped out of his own ride, systems cycling down. For an unfinished prototype, it worked perfectly.

Too bad it would never be used again. He already had some preliminary scans of alien tech and already saw that their alloys were superior to what he had used for Sutherland mechs. Then, there was the possibility that he could use their weapon tech and power cores to replace or hybridize his own tech.

While he considered that, Natasha and Clint arrived as well.

The submarines surfaced with the quiet efficiency of machines that had been designed for exactly this retrieval. Larger drones left the deck. Luckily, after the nuclear fiasco, SHIELD stopped trying to hack everything. Michael decided to let it slide.

At least until he had proper hack-proof mechs.

Clint was stepping out of his mech when the first SHIELD team arrived.

They rode fast. Two armored transports, disgorging twelve agents in tactical gear who fanned out across the shoreline with the specific formation of a seizure team rather than a response team. Their weapons were up, not aimed at Michael but not pointed at the ground either. He doubted that if it wasn’t been for Clint and Natasha, they would have even bothered to stop.

The team leader, a man with the particular combination of a clean haircut and dirty boots that identified a career SHIELD operator, stepped forward with his hand raised in a gesture that was technically a greeting and practically a demand to stop.

"Sir, we need you to step away from the equipment. These assets are being secured under SHIELD operational authority—"

"No," Michael said.

The word landed with the flat finality of someone who was fed up with nonsense.

"Sir, this technology represents a potential—"

"I said no." Michael raised his hands, palms forward, and golden fire wrapped around his fingers, visible in the afternoon light, casting warm shadows across the concrete shore. The SHIELD agents reacted. Weapons shifting, stances tightening, the instinctive response of trained professionals encountering something they hadn't been briefed on.

Michael pushed the fire outward in a wave before Natasha or Clint could react.

It washed over the asssault team like a warm breeze, the golden light enveloping each agent in a cocoon of healing energy that their bodies didn't need and their equipment couldn't survive. His fire did what it always did, distinguished between living and non-living with absolute precision.

Their bodies healed, while everything else burned harmlessly.

Twelve SHIELD agents stood on the Manhattan shoreline naked, blinking in the sudden sunlight, surrounded by small piles of ash that had recently been top of the line equipment.

[Feat Achieved! Intimidate and humiliate a SHIELD assault team

+1x Silver Random Gacha ticket]

The team leader stared at his own bare chest with the specific expression of a man whose threat assessment had just undergone a radical revision. He looked up at Michael, who stood with golden fire still flickering around his fingers and an expression of absolute calm.

"Let me be clear," Michael said, his voice carrying across the shore with the quiet authority that came from genuine conviction rather than volume. "I just spent half an hour protecting civilians from an alien invasion while someone in your organization tried to drop a nuclear weapon on my head. I’m not in the mood to deal with your shit."

The agents shifted uncomfortably, some already returning to their armored carriers. “Clint, I’m leaving these idiots to you,” Michael said. He didn’t need to fake his annoyance.

The fact that they had been targeted by a nuke was enough to turn his low-key annoyance with SHIELD into serious dislike.

He was considering whether dismantling it completely as a villain was a reasonable response. He was tempted, but only the knowledge that the resulting chaos would be even more troubling kept him back.

With all the key items and a sufficient number of tech samples already acquired, he didn’t need to intervene with the rest. Technically, he didn’t even need to confront the SHIELD agents, but he wasn’t feeling particularly good.

Instead, he moved toward the first responders. The exoskeletons did their job and prevented casualties, but there were still some dangerous wounds. “Medic,” Michael declared, his hands glowing golden.

People accepted their assistance without question. After a blond guy with a hammer summoned lightning from the sky to defeat an alien army, people were more receptive to the idea of a healer with gloved hands.

Michael only addressed the life-threatening wounds, making sure to look completely spent toward the end.

Many of them were still wearing the low-powered exosuits, the simplified armor pads carrying the scorch marks and dents of people who had used them exactly as intended. Others had removed them already, carrying them under their arms or dragging them behind on improvised sleds.

SHIELD didn’t try to stop him. A good choice, as it might have actually triggered a riot. At the same time, Professor Azure’s voice rang once again. “Attention, everyone. The danger is over. To the first responders and emergency personnel, you have my thanks. Keep those plasma weapons and exosuits as a gift. Just plug them into any outlet, and they will recharge. Instructions are printed on the interior chest panel. If the government tries to confiscate them, demand actual payment, or refuse to give up and sue them. However, please don’t take any alien tech. They are dangerously volatile.”

The officers and firefighters who heard the broadcast reacted with a mixture of surprise and the quiet satisfaction of people who had earned something and were being told so by someone they respected. Several of them looked at the exosuits they were carrying with renewed appreciation.

Michael smirked. SHIELD probably had a dozen different laws to confiscate them, but they would come across as bullies. Something they wouldn’t dare to pull after trying to nuke the city. If they wanted, they would have to pay.

A good way to thank the first responders.

He gave them because while the exoskeleton suits were useful; they weren’t exactly power armor. Just some strength and added protection. As for plasma guns, they were too dangerous for SHIELD to allow to stay in civilian hands.

A little trouble he gifted to SHIELD.

Natasha arrived at his side as he finished the emergency treatment. “How do you feel?” she asked.

“Like I just fought an alien invasion,” he chuckled, but acted exhausted when she hooked her arm and dragged him to her bike. He was more than fine taking the back seat, hugging her from behind. “Did I earn a reward?”

“Oh, you earned several rewards,” she muttered.

“Does one of them is uninterrupted eighteen-hour sleep while you keep that smug cyclops away from me?” he asked.

Natasha chuckled. “You really don’t like Fury, do you?” she asked.

“No. He’s an arrogant jackass who thinks himself smart,” Michael replied. “If he were half as competent as he believed himself to be, the organization he’s supposed to be leading wouldn’t have tried to nuke New York.”

“Fury would never order that. It must have been the Security Council going over his head.”

Michael sighed. “Probably, which is why I’m calling him a jackass rather than evil. Just keep the guy away from me. If he has anything to say, he can always send Coulson.”

“How about Maria Hill?” Natasha asked.

He hummed. “Now, that’s a proper reward.”

“You’re pushing your luck,” she warned, but her playful tone was impossible to miss.

He chuckled as he hugged her tighter, not missing a chance to flirt with the idea. After all, he had just saved the day. Perfect time to ask for some rewards. “But, what a way to go, right?” he said.

They soon reached their destination. A cratered intersection near Stark Tower, which the battle had turned into something resembling a construction site designed by an angry god. Which, in a sense, it had been, considering the very apparent hammer marks.

Tony was sitting on a chunk of fallen masonry, his faceplate up, eating a shawarma wrap. Steve sat beside him, his shield propped against his knee, looking like a recruiting poster that had been through a car wash. Clint was perched on a piece of debris above them, his bow across his knees, his expression carrying the particular thousand-yard quality of someone who was present in body, not in mind.

The guy needed a little holiday with his secret family.

Thor sat on the ground with his legs crossed, Mjolnir resting beside him, looking like a statue that had decided the museum was boring and went for a walk. His expression was excited rather than somber, the expression of someone who fought a lot, but didn’t deal with the aftermath.

Considering he was the crown prince, it made sense.

And Bruce Banner, wearing clothes that were two sizes too large and clearly borrowed from someone who hadn't been a huge green representation rage ten minutes ago, sat slightly apart from the group with the careful posture of someone who was always tense like an abuse victim. Only he wasn’t afraid for himself, but for other people.

Michael and Natasha approached, and the group's attention shifted toward them.

Steve raised his hand. "Michael. Just in time for food," he said, his tone calm and accepting, yet with just the perfect hint of kindness.

He grabbed a shawarma and sat down. Natasha sat next to him, letting him lean against her shoulder. “Delicious,” he groaned as he took a large bite. Only then, he look at Bruce Banner. “Sorry about being rude, Doctor Banner,” he said, extending his hand. "Michael Wren. Photographer extraordinare."

“Bruce Banner, unemployed,” he teased, a small smile appearing.

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short. You will make an excellent model,” he said. He was tempted to invite him to help with Jane’s startup, but it seemed like a particularly terrible idea when Thor was there.

That made Bruce chuckle. “I’ll pass.”

“It’s the loss of the modeling world,” Michael teased.

“So, what’s your deal?” he asked. “You weren’t called at first, right?”

He shook his head. “No. I don’t really like SHIELD,” he said. Banner looked at him, leaning against Natasha. “Well, most of SHIELD,” he corrected. “Shady government organizations and enhanced individuals don’t mix well.”

To his surprise, everyone nodded. “Yeah, Fury is not exactly our favorite person,” Tony interjected.

“Shocker,” Michael said, which earned a chuckle.

He focused on his food while the group shared comfortable chatter. Michael didn’t feel the need to probe or question, or somehow drive them to aggression. While they could probably grant him more tickets, they fought together against an alien invasion.

“By the way, does anyone need healing? No need to be shy?” he asked after he demolished his fourth shawarma.

“I’ll pass,” Tony said. “Chicks dig scars.”

“I will get one if it doesn’t exhaust you too much, my friend,” Thor replied loudly. He just pointed his hand, and the golden light covered him. He noted that healing Thor took more than usual despite merely healing bruises. “Marvelous gift, my friend!”

Michael shrugged. “I got lucky.”

“Gamma radiation?” Bruce asked.

“No, an unethical super soldier serum that somehow reacted with electromagnetic discharge,” he said. “Just as a note, don’t use Osborn Nonprofit hospitals.”

“Ah,” Bruce said. “There are rumors…”

Michael smirked. “Yeah, rumors,” he said, more than aware that SHIELD had long discovered Norman and Green Goblin, but chose not to prosecute in exchange for unofficial support.

Or, in other words, a huge bribe.

“Do you need healing?” he asked.

Bruce shook his head. “We had better not take the risk. The other guy can be … twitchy.”

Michael shrugged as he hit Natasha with his golden light, but when it was time to target Clint, he used the golden flames, burning his sleeve. “Really? A prank?” Clint said.

“You were laughing when I pulled the same prank on Coulson,” Michael responded. “Speaking of him, how’s he feeling? Any side effects?”

“No. He’s dealing with why the evacuation failed.”

They chatted for a while more, and he could see that Bruce was longing to ask him about the flames. “Bruce. Yes, you can take some readings once we calm down. Just make sure to keep everything offline and destroy it after studying.”

Bruce blushed. “I’m sorry, just…”

“You want to find a solution to your problem. Don’t worry, we all had inconvenient boners. Yours is just larger than usual.”

That made everyone laugh.

“So, my friend, does your flames only heal?” Thor asked.

Michael raised his hand, this time leaning to his anger. Thor touched, only into pull back. “It burns,” he said.

“It does, though if I have a choice, I much rather fight riding a giant robot,” Michael replied. He thought about delivering a sarcastic comment, but he had a feeling that it would be lost in the cultural context, which made it significantly less entertaining.

Not that it would be the worst thing he had done to Thor.

“Come on, they are basically oversized garbage,” Tony replied.

Michael shrugged. “Are you looking to start a leasing service for your armors?” Tony shrugged nonchalantly. “Then, I’m more than happy using that garbage.”

“It’s funny that a known villain did more than SHIELD to save New York,” Bruce said.

“He lives here. Makes sense that he defended it,” Natasha said.

“He’s an old man shouting to get the kids off his lawn,” Tony quipped.

Steve chuckled. “He shouts loudly.”

They continued eating. “So, the aliens?” he asked.

Thor answered, and the casual authority in his voice suggested that for him, this was closer to a weather report than a crisis debrief. "The Chitauri are a mystery. I know not whence they come, or whom they serve. I know not how Loki got in contact with them."

“And, I’m assuming they are not the only threat among the stars?” Tony asked.

"The universe is vast," Thor said. "Asgard has maintained peace across the Nine Realms for millennia, but beyond our borders exist civilizations that we monitor but do not govern. There are many empires among the stars, some with thousands of worlds, but most stay away from Earth, as it is under Asgard’s protection."

Michael filed that information with the particular intensity of someone whose entire strategic framework had just expanded by several orders of magnitude. Galactic empires that were spreading across thousands of worlds, only staying away because Earth was under the influence of another alien empire.

It was not a good feeling. Here he was, thinking that SHIELD was his biggest problem.

"What other civilizations should we know about?" Steve asked, and his voice carried the steady practicality of a man who treated the revelation of cosmic geopolitics the same way he treated battlefield intelligence, as information to be assessed and acted upon.

Thor gave them a brief breakdown of the geopolitic situation, but Michael didn’t know how much h would have to believe. Not because he expected Thor to lie, but he had the energy of a jock who slept through the history class. It was hard to judge. And, he suspected Thor cared more about the kind he could fight one by one rather than the fleets.

"The Dark Elves are a big problem," Thor continued. "Ancient, dangerous, and currently dormant. Frost giants. Other smaller threats like space pirates."

"Space pirates," Clint said, and there was something in his voice, the first hint of his normal dry humor surfacing through the post-mind-control fog. "Now we're talking. I know science fiction novels were not lying to us."

"And others," Thor finished. "Civilizations that I know by name but not by nature. The universe is a crowded place. Don’t worry. My father protects all."

Michael didn’t say anything, but he had no intention of trusting his safety to a mysterious old man who might or might not be a real divinity. Thor’s lightning was no technology, that much was clear.

“To your father, then,” Michael said, breaking the silence as all of them tried to recalibrate their perspectives.

Steve laughed. Tony snorted. Clint's mouth twitched. Even Bruce smiled, the expression carrying a hint of relaxation.

The discussion faded, Michael already thinking how to react. From Clint’s relatively minimal reaction, it was clear that SHIELD was at least aware of the general intergalactic threat … only to do nothing.

Incompetent bureaucrats, he decided. No doubt they decided to hide the truth for something inane like preventing chaos, like maintaining the status quo would protect them against an intergalactic enemy when they decided to squish them.

He felt like a European in 1938, with their politicians bragging how they had secured peace in their lifetime.

No, there was one adage that was true. If you want something done, you’d better do it yourself. “Guys, it was fun hanging with you, but I’m spent. Healing has exhausted me too much,” he said. Then, he turned to Natasha. “Do you mind driving me home?” he asked.

“I don’t mind. I think we are done here, right?” she said.

“Yes,” Thor replied. “Everything is ready for my departure now that Loki is captured and Tessaract is safe.”

Frankly, Michael was tempted to steal it, or the staff Loki used, believing that either would give him at least another Diamond ticket merely for stealing, but he decided against it. Even if he did that as Professor Azure, the heat would be too much.

Not worth a ticket or two, especially since he had no idea what kind of reward he would pull. With his luck, he would probably get another healing. Hardly worth making an alien empire strong enough to scare the other alien empires.

At least … not yet.