Life can Change: What a Marvel Part 3 (0k -> 10k) (Patreon)

In a high-security conference room within a classified SHIELD facility. Nick Fury stood in the centre of the room with numerous screens surrounding him, each one displaying a blurred figure. "Director Fury," Hawley began, "Mark Grayson is an unprecedented security risk to global stability. Every day he operates as this... Invincible, acting as a hero without our permission, without oversight, he undermines the structures we've built to maintain order. An individual with that power cannot roam unchecked."

Fury tilted his head, barely concealing an annoyed expression. "With all due respect, Councilor, Grayson's not a risk, he's a kid doing what he thinks is right. He's not out there starting wars or toppling governments; he's pulling people out of burning buildings. You call that a threat?"

Alexander Pierce cleared his throat. "Intentions don't negate capability, Director. He can level cities, cross continents in minutes, and answers to no one. What happens when his version of 'the right thing' shifts? We need him under control... our control."

Fury snorted, leaning forward. "Control? You think you can leash someone like Grayson without him noticing? He's not some asset you can lock in a vault. He's a person, Pierce, and he's doing more good out there than half the ops we've greenlit in the last decade."

Gideon Malick, smirked coldly. "Your reports say he's resisted SHIELD's overtures Fury which makes him unpredictable. Unpredictable is dangerous. The Marriott incident proved he can act before we can even get a team out there, without our clearance."

Yen tapped the table. "He's a vigilante, making decisions that should be ours. The public loves him now, every day their trust grows in him, having that many followers is dangerous, and that's not even mentioning the Mutants who will come out of hiding now—inspired by his actions."

Singh nodded in agreement. "The data's clear, his power levels are off the charts, and who knows if that cosmic radiation exposure affected him like it did the rest of the people at the Marriot. An independent operator with that capability is a liability we cannot tolerate."

Rockwell crossed his arms. "Enough talk. He's a weapon walking free. Every day he's out there, he's a loose cannon. Bring him to our side, Fury, or we'll find someone who can."

Fury's jaw tightened. "You're all missing the point. Grayson's not the enemy, he's not out for power or to cause chaos. He's saving lives because he believes it's right. You force him into a corner, and you'll create the exact problem you're trying to prevent. Give me time to do this my way, or you'll regret it when he pushes back."

Hawley's eyes narrowed. "You've had time, Director. The Council is unanimous, bring Mark Grayson under SHIELD's authority, effective immediately. Use your agents, use incentives, use force if you have to, but he will be on our side or neutralized as a threat. Those are your orders."

Fury leaned back. "I'll work on Grayson, but I'm not dragging him in like some criminal, not when he's doing our job better than we are at keeping people safe. You want him on a leash, you better be ready for the consequences when he breaks it."

Pierce shifted topics, his voice cutting through the standoff. "And your operations in Greenland? We've poured resources into your excavation, what progress have you made?"

Fury's lips pressed into a thin line. "Greenland's been a dry well so far. The site's yielding minimal data, and the conditions are a logistical nightmare. But I'm not ready to pull the plug, it's still a possibility the Valkyrie is in the area."

Malick scoffed. "You're wasting our budget on a hunch, Fury. Shut down the Greenland operation immediately and get back to Project Pegasus. We need results, not another wild goose chase."

Fury crossed his arms tighter, looking up at them with a complete lack of care to any of what they were saying. "I'll redirect resources when I'm convinced Greenland's a dead end. Pegasus is on track, there is no need to redirect resources."

Hawley's face hardened. "You're treading on thin ice, Director. End the Greenland operation, focus on Pegasus, and bring Grayson in now. We're watching you closely, if there is anymore insubordination, then the Council might have a discussion on whether a replacement Director—"

Fury turned and walked out, no longer needing to hear whatever else they were going to say. They'd make their threats and whine at him, but until a better candidate came along they wouldn't do shit to remove him from his position. He stormed down the corridor, his boots echoing off the metal floors as he muttered under his breath. "Stupid sons of bitches, thinking they can micromanage the world from their desks. Grayson is a damn weapon we should be thanking god is on our side, I'm not going to alienate him and potentially turn him against humanity just to satisfy their need for control."

Maria Hill fell into step beside him, her tablet in hand and expression as stern as ever. "Sir."

Fury glanced at her without slowing. "Hill. Status on Grayson?"

"He's off the grid," Maria replied evenly.

Fury stopped dead, turning to face her with a scowl. "What do you mean off the grid? We have eyes everywhere."

"None of our satellites can track him," she said. "He's just gone, completely vanished from all surveillance."

"Damn it," Fury growled, rubbing his temple. "Find him for me now. Figure out a way to track him that does not rely on these satellites, they've been too unreliable as of late."

"Yes sir," Maria said with a nod.

They resumed walking, the corridor branching off toward ops as Fury shifted topics without preamble. "What about Romanoff? Likelihood she can reestablish her cover and get back in close?"

Maria hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "Unsure, sir. She's still acting strange since her cover was blown.... distant, off her game."

Fury's annoyance flared. "If Romanoff is not up to the task, get someone else on Grayson, I don't want any more mistakes or anything that might trigger the target."

Maria met his gaze steadily. "Understood."

They reached a junction, and Fury peeled off toward his office with a curt nod. "Keep me posted, hourly if you have to."

Maria headed the other way making her way for the training room, the distant thuds of impacts growing louder until she pushed through the door. Natasha was there, her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, sports bra clinging to her sweat-slicked skin and tight leggings hugging her form as she hammered a heavy bag with powerful strikes, each hit landing with a loud thud.

Maria waited a moment till she was done before speaking. "Romanoff," she said loud enough to catch her attention.

Natasha stopped mid-punch, grabbing the bag to steady it as she turned, wiping sweat from her brow and reaching for a water bottle. "Hill. You got something for me?"

Maria leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. "Intense session. You working out some frustration?" She said ignoring her question.

Natasha walked over to a bench and sat down, before she took a long drink, capping the bottle with a shrug. "Just staying in shape. You need something?" She asked again.

Maria nodded, getting to the point. "It's about the Grayson assignment."

Natasha set the bottle down, her posture straightening. Desperation, excitement, nervousness flashed through her all at once, but was immediately pressed down by the overarching feeling to see him. "I can be ready in an hour," she said, doing a good job of controlling her emotions.

Maria shook her head. "You misunderstand. You're not the chosen agent... we're assigning someone else."

Natasha's eyes narrowed, annoyance flashing across her face. "Why? I know him better than anyone; I am the best choice."

Maria held her ground. "We believe you're emotionally compromised, on top of your cover already being blown. Mark seeing you again could cause him to grow volatile."

Natasha stepped closer, her voice edged with anger. "I'm not compromised and even if my cover is blow I can still reconnect with Mark! I'll spin the story, make it work. You pull me now, you lose the best shot at bringing him in."

Maria listed it out calmly. "Distracted during briefings. Angry outbursts in training. Impulsive decisions. Purposely withholding information on the target. That's compromised, Romanoff."

Natasha just stood there, her fists clenching at her sides as the words sank in, no retort coming this time. She knew she was compromised, but she wanted to see Mark again, she knew if she tried to make contact with him without shields permission then they'd likely throw her in a black site. Everyone was jumpy when it came to Mark, they think the slightest provocation will set him off and he'll destroy the world. 'Shows how little they know him...' she thought to herself.

Maria softened her tone slightly. "A new agent's been assigned... I came here to tell you that you'll  be briefing her on everything she needs to know."

Natasha opened her mouth to argue again, but paused mid-sentence, her face paling as she clamped a hand over her mouth and bolted for the bathroom, dropping to her knees by the toilet to throw up violently.

Maria rushed after her, kneeling beside her with concern. "Natasha! Are you okay?"

Natasha heaved again, spitting into the bowl before wiping her mouth shakily. "I'm fine... just not feeling well lately... something I ate, probably."

Maria frowned, still worried but standing up. "Take it easy. Being reassigned from Grayson is for the best right now, trust me."

She left the room, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving Natasha alone on the floor, breathing heavily as she leaned against the wall as the nausea slowly ebbed. Her stomach calmed, but her chest felt heavier with every second. She squeezed her eyes shut, but the memory wouldn't loosen its grip. It clung to her like a scar that had etched itself to her very soull.

Mark...

Her reflection in the mirror wavered, her own face blurred by tears she hadn't noticed falling. She tried to force herself to look away, but the past pulled her back.

Flashback

Natalie sat stiffly on the edge of Mark's couch in his Harlem apartment, her knees pressed together, her fingers laced tightly in her lap. This was the night. She had told Luke that she was going to tell Mark the truth and tonight was finally the night she was going to do it. She didn't want to. She didn't want this to end. Even now her mind was concocting ways in which she could try and lie or manipulate; all in an effort to keep this amazing thing she found by chance.

She looked over to the other side of the apartment. Mark moved around the small kitchen, humming under his breath as he poured two glasses of wine. He was relaxed, barefoot, his shirt untucked and his hair messy—just how she liked it. He looked at home, at ease, the way she had grown to love him most.

"Red or white?" he asked, flashing her a grin.

"Red's fine," she murmured. Quieter than she meant, her throat was dry... as if even her own body didn't want her speaking.

He brought the glasses over, setting one in front of her before dropping onto the couch beside her. The cushions shifted, his shoulder brushing hers, his warmth seeping into her like it always did. He leaned back, one arm slung casually across the back of the couch.

"You're quiet tonight," he said softly. "That's not like you."

She forced a small smile. "Just tired."

Mark studied her face for a moment, then grinned again, trying to lighten the air. "Then it's a good thing I was planning to surprise you. I've been thinking about a trip. Somewhere far, I was thinking maybe Greece or anywhere on the Mediterranean. Just you and me."

Before she could respond, he stood suddenly, pulled her up, and spun her in a circle. She laughed despite the pain in her chest, clinging to his shoulders, her hair brushing his cheek.

"Picture it," he said, lowering her slowly until their foreheads touched. "Sunset on a beach. Drinks with umbrellas. Drinking sex on the beach while having sex on the beach, if you ask now I'm sure you could get some time off."

He kissed her then, and for a moment she almost let herself drown in it, to let the lie stretch just a little longer. Her hands cupped his face, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. But the words she'd buried pressed harder against her ribs. She broke the kiss, her lips trembling. "Mark, wait. Please... we need to talk."

He blinked, still smiling faintly. "Alright. Serious talk time." He flopped back onto the couch, patting the space beside him. "What's up?"

Her hands shook as she sat again. She clasped them together, pressing them so tightly her nails dug into her palms. She couldn't even look at him. She was an Agent of Shield for gods sake why was this so hard! "Mark," she whispered. "My name isn't Natalie Roma."

He chuckled going along with the joke. "Okay... so what, you've been lying about your last name? Are you secretly royalty or something?"

She looked up, and the tears already in her eyes told him it wasn't a joke. His smile faltered.

"My name is Natasha Romanoff," she said, her voice much calmer now only because if it wavered, she'd never get it out. "I work for an organization called SHIELD."

The room seemed to freeze. Mark's expression went blank, as if the words hadn't made sense.

Natasha forced herself to keep going. "They noticed you after the Stark Expo. The things you did. The strength. The speed, your ability to fly. They assigned me to you. To watch you. To figure out what you are, what you can do, if you were dangerous."

The glass in Mark's hand tilted, spilling wine onto the carpet, but he didn't seem to notice. He just stared at her like he was a statue.

"I didn't plan this," she said quickly, the panic rising in her voice. "I didn't plan to care about you. But I did. I do. Mark, I swear—"

He stood up so fast the couch shifted under her. He dragged both hands over his face, pacing across the living room, muttering under his breath. "No. No, this isn't real. Tell me this isn't real."

"Mark, please—"

"Don't," he snapped, spinning to face her, his hand up like a shield. His voice cracked with the effort to stay calm. "Don't say my name like that...."

He paced around for a few seconds, his breathing seemingly getting more ragged. "It was all a lie... all of it, you lied to me..."

She stood too, reaching out despite the warning in his eyes. "It wasn't all a lie. What I felt... it was real. Every moment we spent together I—"

"Was it?" His voice was louder now, breaking as his chest heaved. "Because when I look back, it all makes sense now... everything you did to get close to me. You smiling at me, you laughing at my stupid jokes, you telling me you loved me! God, was all of that just your special training? Was I just a file you had to update every night?"

Tears streaked her face. "No. I changed. You changed me. I fell in love with you, Mark. I didn't expect it, but it happened... I love you."

He slammed his fist against the wall, hard enough to crack the wall. She flinched. He turned away, his shoulders shaking looking guilty for scaring her. "You were in my bed, we made love...  And the whole time you were writing reports for someone else to read. Do you know what that feels like? To know I opened myself up, told you things I've never told anyone, and you were just collecting data?"

"I stopped reporting everything," she whispered, almost choking on the words. "After a while I couldn't. I kept things back. I tried to protect you. I didn't want them to use you."

He let out a bitter laugh, wiping at his eyes. "Now you're protecting me? Now you're telling the truth? Where the hell was this honesty months ago? You could've told me any day, Natasha. Any night. Instead you waited... and for what? Why did you wait?"

Natasha looked down at her feet. "It was Luke..." she mumbled.

"What?" Mark said.

"Luke found out about me, he gave me an ultimatum of telling you or he would do it himself... but I promise Mark I would've told you eventually! I would've!" She said trying to reach out for him.

Mark shook his head. "I guess I have Luke to thank for showing your true colour." He turned away.

She stepped closer, her hands trembling as she reached for him again. "I'll leave SHIELD. I'll walk away from all of it. I just don't want to lose you."

Mark turned, his face twisted with hurt so raw it hollowed her out. "You already did. You lost me the moment you chose to lie every day we were together." His voice broke slightly. "I trusted you. More than anyone. And you burned that to the ground."

Her chest caved in at his words. She tried again, desperate, her voice shaking. "Please, Mark. Don't shut me out. Don't let this be the end."

He stood there for a long moment, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his breath coming in shuddering pulls. Finally he shook his head. "I can't do this. I can't look at you and not see this thing... please leave, just please get out of here..."

Her vision blurred, her body trembling so hard she thought her knees might give out. She forced herself to nod. "I'll give you that... I am sorry I hurt you..."

He didn't answer. He turned his back, staring out the window at the wash of city lights, his reflection faint in the glass.Natasha lingered, her hand on the door, her heart screaming to fight harder. But she knew she couldn't win tonight. Her voice broke on the words as she whispered them into the quiet. "I love you."

The door clicked shut behind her.

Flashback End

Back in the bathroom, Natasha gripped the sink as the memory faded, her knuckles white, her reflection unrecognizable in the blurred mirror. She splashed cold water on her face, but it did nothing to wash away the ache inside her. She hadn't lost him to death or danger. She had lost him to herself. To her choices. And now SHIELD was pulling her off the assignment, making it that much harder to be with him.

"I'll find a way..." she whispered to herself.

_____________________________________

'So... here's the thing,'

'I've been... seeing people. Darcy. Colleen. Trisha. And when I say seeing, I mean... yeah, sleeping with them too. Not all together in like a four way? Five way?. But at different times.'

'At first it felt fine. No strings, just fun. But the longer it goes on... the more it feels wrong. Like I'm lying. Even if technically I'm not. They're my friends, and it's not like they can't see other people either... it just never comes up.'

They're my friends though and I don't want to lie even if by omission... I don't want to lose them.'

'So what do I do? Do I tell them? Be honest and tell them all about each other? Do I stop having sex with them and just stay friends?'

'I don't know. What do you think?'

A second of silence. Two. Then a voice answered, cutting across his thoughts.

'No offence, Mark, but the reason I had you haul me up here wasn't so you could dump your teenage soap opera on me. Which, I'll admit, I am extremely jealous of.'

Mark's eyes flicked sideways floating next to him above planet earth was Tony Stark, inside one of his Iron Man suits. Though this one was much more bulkier than they usually were; a design Tony mentioned was made for space walking.

Tony had contacted Mark and asked if he could fly him up here as he had lost contact with one of his important satellites. While he could've gotten up here himself it was much easier to ask him and Mark wasn't going to ignore a chance to get a favour from Tony. It also gave Mark a chance to get some perspective from someone who wasn't Luke or Jessica, both of whom who have as little experience in love as they do in living normal existences.

Mark folded his arms and gave him a light shrug. 'You're a known womanizer. I figured you might have some advice.'

'Advice?' His metal-clad fingers adjusted a circuit board as he replied. 'Kid, my advice is simple. Hit it and quit it. You'll save yourself a lot of late-night heart-to-hearts and whining about "feelings."'

Mark rolled his eyes. 'That's... terrible advice.'

'Hey, it worked for me. For years.' Tony twisted a panel back into place, his thrusters adjusting to keep him steady. 'Though in fairness, most of those women didn't want to see me again anyway. Saves you the trouble of awkward phone calls.'

Mark sighed, drifting a little closer, his arms still crossed. 'That's exactly what I don't want. They're not strangers. They're people I care about. Friends. While it's been fun doing the other stuff it's not worth it if it ends up upsetting everyone, I don't want to wreck our friendships.'

'So don't wreck it. Simple. Pick one, cut the others loose. Standard play.'

'I can't just pick one,' Mark shot back 'I'm not really looking for a relationship at the moment... I'm still not over... yeah I'm just not looking for one. So what do I do?'

'Grow a backbone and do it anyway,' Tony replied. 'Trust me, it's less painful than stringing them all along until it blows up in your face.'

Mark scowled, drifting until he was upside down compared to Tony. 'I don't want to string anyone along. That's why I'm asking you.'

Tony chuckled in his head, the sound dry as dust. 'You're asking the guy who once juggled a Vanity Fair reporter and a Maxim model in the same week. Kid, you might as well be asking Hulk for fashion tips.'

Mark smirked despite himself, but it faded quickly. 'So you're saying I should tell them. All of them. Be honest.'

Tony finished soldering a connection, flicked his wrist, and watched the diagnostic lights on the satellite flicker to green. 'What I'm saying is, if you want to keep them as friends, stop sleeping with them. You're not built for casual. You're not me. Boy Scout like you... more than one woman would tear you apart.'

Mark sighed . 'And if I tell them the truth, and I lose them anyway?'

'Then at least you didn't lie.'

Mark was silent, staring down at the planet turning slowly below. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Only the faint sparks from Tony's work broke the stillness. Finally Mark breathed out in annoyance. 'I hate that you're probably right.'

'Of course I'm right,' Tony replied smugly. He tapped the satellite, checking it was stable, and turned back toward Mark. His visor caught the sunlight. 'I am quite literally one of the smartest men in the world, why would t you want my advice.'

Mark gave him a flat look. 'Don't flatter yourself.'

'Kid, if I didn't flatter myself, who would?' Tony fired a short burst from his thrusters, drifting toward the next section of the satellite. 'Now quit brooding and hold the panel steady while I finish this. And for God's sake, stop thinking about your love life while we're six hundred miles above the planet. It's making me nauseous.'

Mark glanced at the tangle of open panels and dangling wires. 'How'd you even lose connection to this thing in the first place?'

'That's what I'm trying to find out,' Tony said, his gauntlet laser flicking against a circuit. The diagnostic lights blinked red, then green, then back to red, a stuttering pattern that didn't seem to changed.

Mark tilted his head while he watched, his mind already deconstructing the piece of technology. 'Looks like someone's messed with it.'

Tony didn't look up. 'Don't start with the conspiracy theories, kid. Satellites glitch. It happens. Weather, radiation, random space junk, it's a crapshoot.' But his tone carried a flicker of doubt, as if even he wasn't sure.

'I could help,' Mark offered.

That got Tony to scoff out loud in his mind. 'What do you know about this kind of tech? Your idea of fixing things is punching them until they stop moving.'

Mark smirked. 'I'm sure I know one or two things.'

Tony snorted, shaking his helmet slightly. 'Yeah, sure. Next you'll tell me you're secretly an MIT grad. Look, no offense, but the day I need muscle-brain help on satellite software is the day I hang up the suit.'

Mark chuckled, letting the comment slide.

Tony leaned closer to the circuit board, his thrusters humming faintly as he adjusted the wiring. The red lights flickered to amber, then to green, staying that way this time. He nodded to himself. 'Nearly finished up anyway. Give me a minute and we'll be good to head back down.'

Mark drifted lazily beside the satellite, his arms folded. 'You sure you don't want to make a detour to the moon first? Not every day you get a ride like this.'

'I'm good,' Tony replied flatly. 'No booze, no Pepper, no tech to tinker with. Moon might as well be the desert. Hard pass.'

Mark rolled his eyes. 'Fine. Be a killjoy.'

Tony flicked his wrist and the last panel locked into place. The diagnostic lights pulsed steady green, the satellite realigning its dish toward Earth. 'And just like that she's alive. Satellite's back online. God, I'm good.'

'Congratulations,' Mark said dryly.

'Save it. Let's get out of here.'

Mark hooked an arm under Tony, adjusting his hold before angling toward Earth. Tony's thought-voice went up half an octave. 'Seriously? You have to carry me like a damn princess?'

'Unless you want to burn up on reentry,' Mark replied. He tightened his grip and surged forward.

The planet expanded beneath them, the blue curve swelling as they plunged faster. The upper atmosphere caught them, friction blooming in streaks of flame. Tony screamed the entire way down.

'Jesus Christ, this is insane! Do you have to go this fast? Do you have any idea what reentry turbulence feels like in this suit?'

'You're fine,' Mark said calmly, his face deadpan even as the air tore in flaming arcs around them.

'Fine? I'm being carried bridal-style by a super-powered mutant through a fireball at Mach whatever-the-hell, we have very different definitions of fine!'

They broke through the flames into clean air, clouds rushing beneath them. Mark leveled out, holding Tony steady as the turbulence eased. Tony exhaled hard, then flicked a switch on his gauntlet. His thrusters adjusted pitch, the bulk of his suit shifting. 'Alright, space mode off. I've got it from here.' Mark released him, hovering back as Tony caught himself and floated next to him.

Tony gave a little shake of his helmet. 'You know, I'd have felt a hell of a lot cooler if I wasn't just carried halfway across the stratosphere like Snow White waiting for her prince.'

Mark smirked. 'You looked adorable.'

'Bite me.' Tony steadied his altitude, then angled slightly toward the city skyline in the distance. 'Thanks for the lift though, Mark. And seriously swing by sometime. My doors are always open.'

Mark nodded. 'Will do.'

With that, they split paths, Tony banking toward his Malibu House while Mark cut a different line through the clouds. Mark cut across the Atlantic in minutes, the roar of the wind carrying his laughter with it. He pushed faster, testing himself, the air splitting in a thunderous crack as he broke the sound barrier again. The coastline of Italy spread out beneath him, sun-washed and golden, until he slowed his descent and dropped gently onto the cobbled street just outside a corner pizzeria.

Here was a couple of special people that he visited relatively often since he became a hero; an older married couple who he had saved during their Anniversary in New York, he'd also helped the Husband in finding a proper gift for the wife—he'd gone across the world and fished out a beautiful antique necklace from the wreckage of a Spanish frigate—not that he'd ever told him where he got it from. Though needless to say she loved the gift and Mark had earned a good friend in return who said he would eat for free as long as they lived. It was pretty lucky that their food happened to be some of the best he'd tasted.

The smell of wood smoke and dough drifted out into the evening air. A painted sign above the doorway read Trattoria Russo, and inside, familiar voices echoed. Mark ducked through the door, the little brass bell jingling above his head.

"'Guarda chi c'è! Il nostro eroe!'" (Look who it is! Our hero!) Marco Russo beamed from behind the counter, wiping his hands on a towel.

Mark grinned, raising a hand in greeting. "'Ciao, Marco. Come va? La schiena ti dà ancora problemi?'" (Hi, Marco. How are you? Is your back still giving you trouble?)

Marco chuckled, shaking his head. "'Solo quando Sofia mi costringe a spostare i tavoli. Lei dice che sono pigro.'" (Only when Sofia makes me move the tables. She says I'm lazy.)

From the kitchen came Sofia's voice. "'Perché sei pigro!'" (Because you are lazy!) She appeared a moment later, carrying a tray, her face lighting up when she saw Mark. "'Tesoro! Sei troppo magro. Non stai mangiando abbastanza.'" (Darling! You're too skinny. You're not eating enough.)

Mark laughed, spreading his arms. "'Mangio più di chiunque altro che conosca. Solo voi pensate che non sia abbastanza.'" (I eat more than anyone I know. Only you two think it's not enough.)

Sofia set the tray down and came over to pinch his cheek like he was family. "'Per noi sei sempre un figlio. E i figli devono mangiare.'" (To us, you'll always be like a son. And sons need to eat.)

Mark smiled, touched in a way he couldn't quite put into words. "'E voi? Come stanno i nipoti?'" (And you two? How are the grandchildren?)

Marco's face softened, pride glowing in his eyes. "'Alessio ha imparato ad andare in bicicletta la settimana scorsa. Ha detto che voleva correre veloce come te.'" (Alessio learned to ride a bike last week. He said he wanted to go as fast as you.)

Mark chuckled. "'Allora dovrò fargli vedere qualche trucco.'" (Then I'll have to show him some tricks.)

Sofia leaned against the counter, smiling warmly. "'E tu? Sempre in giro per il mondo, a salvare vite. Non ti fermi mai.'" (And you? Always running around the world, saving lives. You never stop.)

Mark shrugged. "'Se mi fermo troppo, divento nervoso. E poi non mi fate mancare il riposo quando passo di qui.'" (If I stop too long, I get restless. And besides, you two make sure I don't miss out on rest when I stop by here.)

Marco winked. "'Vuoi il solito, vero?'" (You want the usual, right?)

Mark smirked. "'Sai già la risposta.'" (You already know the answer.)

Sofia tilted her head, teasing. "'E stasera sarà solo per te, o dividerai con quella ragazza speciale?'" (And tonight will it be just for you, or will you share with that special girl?)

Mark chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "'Qualcosa del genere.'" (Something like that.)

Sofia wagged a finger at him. "'Un uomo forte come te ha bisogno di una donna che lo tenga con i piedi per terra. Senza, voleresti via per sempre.'" (A strong man like you needs a woman to keep you grounded. Without one, you'd fly away forever.)

Mark laughed and went along with it. "'Forse hai ragione.'" (Maybe you're right.)

Marco returned from the oven with two steaming pizzas, sliding them carefully into a paper bag. "'Ecco qui, amico mio.'" (Here you go, my friend.)

Mark reached into his pocket, pulling out a folded bill, but Marco waved it away instantly. "'Mai. Preferirei chiudere la pizzeria che prendere soldi dall'uomo che ci ha salvati.'" (Never. I would rather close the pizzeria than take money from the man who saved us.)

Mark sighed, knowing it was pointless to argue. He set the money aside. "'Va bene. Ma la prossima settimana andiamo a pescare. Niente scuse.'" (Fine. But next week we're going fishing. No excuses.)

Marco grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. "'Affare fatto.'" (Deal.)

Mark held the bag close, smiling at them both. "'Grazie, amici miei. Ci vediamo presto.'" (Thank you, my friends. I'll see you soon.)

"'A presto, Signor Invincibile!'" (See you soon, Mr. Invincible!) they called as he pushed out into the street.

A heartbeat later, he crouched, then shot into the sky, leaving the trattoria as he carved a line through the clouds, turning his path back toward New York.

Mark soared through the clouds, the warm bag of pizzas pressed close to his chest. Even at altitude, the scent of dough and melted cheese cut through the chill air. He could have been back in New York in minutes if he pushed himself, but instead he kept his speed just shy of a blur. Old habits guided him.. The flight home was never just about getting home. It was about enjoying it, plus he'd always be able to see if someone needed help.

The faint sound of a shout reached him, carried on the wind. His head turned toward the cliffs where the sea hammered against the clifff. He descended in a controlled dive, spotting a lone climber dangling halfway up, his harness twisted, one leg shaking violently as his grip began to slip. A small group of hikers waited anxiously at the base, one holding a phone high, but the roar of waves drowned out their voices.

Mark slowed and landed lightly just below the man. "'Ehi! Non muoverti. Ti prendo io!'" (Hey! Don't move. I've got you!) he called.

The climber looked down, his eyes wide in disbelief. "'Invincibile? Sei tu? Aiutami, ti prego! Sto scivolando!'" (Invincible? Is that you? Help me, please! I'm slipping!)

Mark floated up until he was level with him, keeping a few feet of space so the man wouldn't feel crowded. "'Calma. Come ti chiami?'" (Easy. What's your name?)

"'Luca. Luca Rossi,'" the man gasped, fingers trembling around the rope. "'L'ancoraggio è saltato. Non riesco a risalire.'" (The anchor broke. I can't climb up.)

"'Va bene, Luca. Ti prenderò in braccio e scendiamo insieme. Non mollare finché non te lo dico io. Ci siamo, va tutto bene.'" (Alright, Luca. I'm going to hold you and take us down together. Don't let go until I say so. We've got this, you're going to be fine.)

Sweat beaded on Luca's forehead as he nodded quickly. "'Va bene, va bene, basta che fai presto.'" (Okay, okay, just do it quickly.)

Mark shifted the pizza bag under one arm and slipped the other around Luca's waist, feeling the man's rapid heartbeat through his jacket. With his grip secure on the harness, he said, "'Al tre. Uno, due, tre.'" (On three. One, two, three.) He lifted them both with effortlessly and glided down toward the waiting hikers.

The group rushed forward as Mark set Luca carefully on his feet. His legs buckled, but Mark steadied him. "'Stai bene? Niente rotto?'" (You good? Nothing broken?)

Luca shook his head, still breathless. "'No... sto bene. Dio, grazie. Mi hai salvato la vita. Pensavo fosse finita.'" (No... I'm okay. God, thank you. You saved my life. I thought it was over.)

A woman hurried up and threw her arms around him. "'Dio mio, Luca, stai bene?'" (My God, Luca, are you okay?)

Luca held her tightly, then turned back to Mark with tears in his eyes. He pulled him into a quick embrace, gripping his shoulder. "'Sei arrivato dal nulla. Come posso ringraziarti?'" (You came from nowhere. How can I thank you?)

Mark smiled, easing back. "'Controlla meglio l'attrezzatura la prossima volta. La montagna non scappa.'" (Double-check your gear next time. The mountain will still be there tomorrow.)

A young hiker with a backpack called out, holding up his phone. "'Una foto, per favore? I miei figli non ci crederanno mai.'" (A photo, please? My kids will never believe this.)

Mark chuckled. "'Va bene, ma facciamola veloce. Devo andare.'" (Alright, but make it quick. I've got somewhere to be.) He posed with them, Luca front and center, before waving as he rose back into the sky. Luca's voice followed him up the cliff face. "'Invincibile, sei una leggenda! Vieni a trovarci quando vuoi!'" (Invincible, you're a legend! Come visit anytime!)

Mark gave a final wave and cut upward through the clouds. It wasn't a world-ending crisis, but that was the point. The small saves mattered too, and they were his favourites.

The Atlantic stretched endless beneath him as he shot across it at high speeds. The pizzas were still warm, secure against his side—and hopefully he'd be able to keep them warm this time. He angled forward, accelerating until the horizon curved. He almost missed it, the flicker of red against the dark waves. A flare. His eyes narrowed. It was a ship. Mark dropped altitude fast, breaking through the clouds. Below him, a freighter listed dangerously, its deck awash with water. Lifeboats hung half-lowered. Crew scrambled as the sea claimed the vessel inch by inch.

"Hang on!" Mark shouted as he slowed over the deck.

The captain looked and saw Mark before he shouted up, "Flooding in the engine room! We've got crew trapped below. Pumps are dead, we're losing her fast!" Not caring about the flying man, just entirely focused on his ship.

Mark's eyes tracked the angle of the hull, the waterline climbing too quickly. He held the pizza bag carefully, securing it under his arm. "Get the rest to the boats. I'll get them out."

He dropped down, forcing open a sealed hatch, being careful so the structure wouldn't split further. Cold water rushed past him as he slipped inside, the narrow corridors half-flooded and tilted. Voices echoed from a blocked door, fists pounding desperately as they tried to get out. "Stand back!" Mark called. He gripped the frame and ripped it loose with a single pull, tossing it aside. Five crew members spilled out, drenched and coughing.

"You're Invincible," one of them gasped, clinging to his arm.

"That's me, now hurry to the life boats. Is there anyone else here?"

They pointed further down. Mark guided them back toward the hatch, then forced open two more doors, pulling another couple crew into the hallways. He carried the injured in his arm, water rising to his waist as he broke through blockages of steel and debris. Back on deck, he deposited the last man near the lifeboats, where the captain checked his crew off one by one. "That's all of them," the captain shouted. "But the ship won't last another minute!"

Mark looked at the hull groaning under its own weight. "Then let's give her a push."

Before the captain could argue, Mark ducked under the ship, pressing his shoulder into the keel. The steel screamed as he lifted, pulling the vessel slowly upright. Water cascaded off the deck in torrents, containers sliding but holding. He clenched his jaw, balancing the weight in one hand while his other pressed the pizza bag snug against his side. From the lifeboats, the crew stared in disbelief as the freighter rose above the waves. Phones lit up, recording the impossible sight.

"You're carrying her!" the captain yelled, his voice breaking.

"Just making sure she makes it home," Mark said with a smile.

He flew carefully toward the nearest stretch of coast, lights from a Portuguese coast guard station shining across the water. The ship ground into the shallows, tilted but intact. Rescue teams swarmed, their spotlights finding the crew as they climbed down to safety. The captain came forward with wide eyes. "We'd be at the bottom of the ocean if not for you. Anything you need it's yours."

Mark shook his hand. "Just take care of your people."

One of the younger sailors, the woman from before, hugged him tightly. "Thank you. You saved all of us."

He returned the embrace lightly, then stepped back. "Stay safe."

Cheers followed him as he lifted off, vanishing into the clouds before news helicopters could close in.

...

The Manhattan skyline glowed beneath him as Mark descended, weaving between towers until he leveled out above one of the tallest buildings. He touched down softly on the rooftop, the bag of pizzas still secure under his arm. Jessica was already there, sprawled half on her side against a metal vent, a half-empty bottle of whiskey balanced loosely in her hand. Her hair was a mess, her jacket wrinkled, but she looked right at home thirty stories up.

Mark folded his arms. "You know it's a little early for that, right?"

Without looking up, Jessica lifted her free hand and flipped him off.

Mark smirked and walked over, dropping down beside her. "Real classy."

She squinted at the bag. "Tell me you didn't fly all the way here with food again."

He pulled out a box and cracked it open. "Two words. Russo's Pizza."

Jessica sat up immediately, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "From Italy?"

"From Italy."

She snatched a slice and bit into it, then groaned. "Cold. You really brought me cold pizza?"

Mark raised an eyebrow. "I flew across the Atlantic with it. You want fresh, you can book a flight next time."

Jessica chewed, unimpressed. "You're Invincible. You telling me you can't keep a pizza warm?"

He gave her a look. "Pretty sure keeping a ship from sinking takes priority over reheating your dinner."

She grinned, satisfied at getting a rise out of him. "Depends on how hungry a girl is."

They ate in silence for a minute, looking at the city that stretched out in every direction. Eventually Jessica wiped her hands on her jeans and asked, "So, how's your day? Saving the world, kissing babies, that sort of thing?"

Mark shrugged. "Went to space. Stopped a guy from falling off a cliff. Kept a freighter from going under. Delivered pizza."

"Wow," she said dryly. "A real humanitarian."

He nudged her shoulder. "What about you?"

Jessica snorted. "No clients. Again. Turns out people don't like paying a PI who drinks before lunch."

"Maybe try a real job for once," Mark shot back.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Excuse me?"

"You know, something steady. Something where you don't spend half the day drunk on rooftops."

Jessica stood, dusted off her jeans, then casually kicked him in the side. The impact made him slide backward off the roof. He hovered just below the ledge, floating with his arms crossed, unimpressed.

She leaned over, smirking. "How's the view down there?"

He floated back up, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder. "Hilarious. Really."

Jessica plopped back down, tugging the whiskey bottle back into her lap. "You love it."

Mark rolled his eyes but sat again, reaching for another slice. They let the city noise fill the space for a while, comfortable in the quiet. Mark liked these moments with Jessica, the way they could just exist without filling every second with words, sharing cold pizza on a rooftop while the world spun on beneath them. It was their ritual, much like the ones he had with his other close friends. With Luke he had sitting on a Harlem rooftop to watch the sunset dip below the skyline while cracking open a few beers and trading stories about the day, or now with Darcy in New Mexico, stargazing from a desert ridge and talking about life's absurdities. Each one grounded him in a different way, a reminder that even with the weight of the world on his shoulders, there were pockets of normalcy where he could just be Mark, not Invincible.

He liked it.

Jessica chewed slowly, watching him out of the corner of her eye. "You've been quiet tonight. That's not like you."

Mark shrugged, tearing the tip off his slice. "Long day."

"Long day saving the world or long day brooding about your love life?" she asked, smirking before taking a swig from her bottle.

"Both," Mark admitted with half a grin, though it didn't reach his eyes.

Jessica leaned her head back against the metal vent. "You know, for someone who can fly across the ocean in under an hour, you've got this habit of carrying around more baggage than a 747."

Mark chuckled. "That's... true."

"Uh-huh." She glanced at him again, more serious now. "This about what went down out west?"

Mark's hand stilled on the pizza box. "Out west?"

Jessica nodded. "New Mexico. Don't look at me like that, it was all over the news. People screaming about some giant machine tearing through the desert, and guess whose name kept coming up?"

"Like jeez Mark me and Luke only sent you down there cause we thought you'd relax a bit," she said with a chuckle.

Mark sighed, setting his half-eaten slice back in the box as he leaned against the rooftop ledge. The city lights twinkled far below like scattered diamonds. "Yeah, New Mexico. It started as a trip to talk science with Jane. But it turned into... well, chaos."

Jessica arched a brow, taking another pull from her bottle before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Yeah I know that part get to the part where the giant robot shows up? Spill it, Grayson. Don't leave me hanging."

He rubbed the back of his neck, piecing it together as he spoke. "Okay, so I get there, meet Jane and her team. Erik, this old Norse expert, and Darcy, her intern. They're chasing these weird storms that pop up out of nowhere, leaving behind energy signatures that don't make sense. Turns out, one of them spits out this guy, he's tall, blond and built like a tank. They tase him, or more specifically Darcy taxes him."

Jessica snorted, nearly choking on her whiskey. "They tased him? Nice. And let me guess, he's not just some drunk hiker?"

Mark shook his head, grinning faintly at the memory. "Nope. Calls himself Thor... Yeah, that Thor, god of thunder from the myths. He was banished from Asgard by his dad, Odin, for being a hothead. Lost his hammer though it was thrown to Earth too."

"We bonded over beer, he learns some humility, but then his family sends this robot thing to wipe him out and cover up the mess."

She stared at him for a beat, then burst out laughing, slapping her knee. "Thor? As in hammer-swinging, lightning-zapping Viking god? Come on, Mark, did you hit your head out there? Or is this some elaborate prank to see if I'll buy it?"

"I'm serious," Mark insisted, though he couldn't help chuckling at her reaction. "The guy's from another realm. Asgard's like this advanced world connected by wormholes they call the Bifrost. His brother Loki tricked him into exile. We fought the destroyer in the desert. But while I was fighting it I got sucked into the Bifrost, ended up on Jotunheim, this ice planet, frost giants everywhere."

Jessica waved a hand, still laughing. "Frost giants? Now you're just messing with me. What, did you bump into elves and dwarves too? Or was Santa there with his reindeer?"

Mark leaned forward, his tone earnest. "Jess, I swear. Fought an army of them when they thought I was an invader. Then the Bifrost got stuck open on purpose by Loki. He was about to blow the whole planet, but I absorbed the energy to shut it down, damn thing nearly killed me. I managed to get to Asgard after, the Asgardians healed me up. Thor got his hammer back, we feasted. Mead that actually got me drunk. It was wild."

She wiped a tear from her eye, her laughter dying down to chuckles. "Okay, okay. If you're not bullshitting, that's the craziest story you've ever told. Asgard? Real gods? You're saying you partied with Vikings in space?"

"Pretty much," Mark said, shrugging with a grin. "Thor's a good guy. Arrogant at first, but he grew. His friends, the Warriors Three and Sif, they're like something out of a legend."

Jessica shook her head, taking another swig. "If anyone else said this, I'd call bullshit and walk away. But you've got that honest face. Still, gods and wormholes? Sounds like a bad acid trip."

"Trust me, I lived it," Mark replied, reaching for the bottle. "Felt real enough when I was getting blasted across the desert."

She passed it over, her smirk fading into something more thoughtful. "Alright, assuming you're not insane—what now? You buddies with thunder boy? Planning a playdate in space?"

Mark took a sip, handing the bottle back. "Something like that. He's got king stuff to handle, but yeah—"

Bzzzt

Marks phone vibrated before he could finish his thought. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and half-smiled.

Darcy: Hey space boy! You forget about our stargazing rematch tonight? Miss your arms already... don't keep a girl waiting. 🌌😘

Jessica leaned over, catching just enough of the screen before he tilted the phone away. "Ooh, who's got you grinning like an idiot? Let me guess, desert intern checking in?"

Mark rolled his eyes and slid the phone back into his pocket as he stood, brushing crumbs from his lap. "Darcy. The intern from New Mexico. We had plans tonight. Guess I lost track of time up here with you."

Jessica's smirk turned wicked. "Plans, huh?."

"Shut up," Mark said with a laugh, shaking his head as he picked up the empty pizza box. "It's just hanging out. Nothing like that."

"Uh-huh, sure," she teased, propping herself up on her elbows. "Go get her, tiger."

Mark grinned, leaning down to ruffle her hair. She swatted his hand away with a glare. "Noted. Catch you later, Jess. Try not to get into trouble."

"Like that's possible," she called after him as he stepped off the ledge and dropped to the ground before shooting upward, the city lights blurring below in a streak of gold and neon. He pushed westward at full speed heading down south towards New Mexico and hopefully an opportunity to get lucky.

_____________________________________

In a secure SHIELD facility buried deep beneath the Nevada desert, alarms blared through the corridors as red emergency lights flashede. Scientists and staff fled in panic while guards in tactical gear rushed the other way with rifles primed and their safeties off.

"Intruders in Sector 4, multiple hostiles, engage and lethal force is advised!" The attackers however had already made it very deep into the base, far enough that most of the people they tried to radio were already dead.

The rest of the guards moved into standard formation and raised their rifles. They did so just as the intruders walked around the corner; they expected to face an enemy spec ops squad, perhaps a terrorist group. What they didn't expect was to face three men. One who looked like a human/lion hybrid, the other a toad-human and the last one an old man wearing a cape.

The confusion this caused them managed to give the three men the initiative. Which they took, as these men were none other than Sabertooth, Toad and Magneto.

Sabertooth charged before they could adjust. The first guard recovered and fired, numerous bullets flying through the corridor. Sabertooth dropped low to the ground and slid under the fire, then came up into the man's chest. His claws punched straight through Kevlar, ribs snapping under the force. He shoved forward until his claws tore out the man's back in a spray. Sabertooth ripped his hand free and slammed the dying guard into his teammates, knocking two of them off balance. The next in line fired on reflex. The rounds stitched into the wall as Sabertooth dragged the first body in front of him like a shield. Bullets thudded into the corpse, jerking it in his grip. He snarled and flung the body forward. It crashed into the shooter, knocking him flat. Sabertooth followed, stomping down with one boot until the man's skull caved in against the floor.

Toad vaulted over sabertooth, springing off the wall. His tongue lashed out and coiled around a rifle barrel. With one hard yank he tore it free and flipped over the man holding it. Mid-spin, Toad snapped his leg across the guard's jaw. The helmet cracked, teeth spraying out as the man crumpled. Toad landed on his shoulders, slammed both knees into the base of his neck, and rode him to the ground. Another guard tried to fire, but Toad spat a line of corrosive saliva straight into his visor. The liquid hissed, eating through the polymer. The man screamed as it burned into his face. Toad cut him off with a kick that bent his knee sideways and left him howling on the ground.

Behind them, Magneto entered as if he had all the time in the world. A second detachment of guards open fired on the three of them after witnessing the horror of what happened to the first. Magneto raised one hand. Every bullet froze mid-air, inches from their targets. With a curl of his fingers, he reversed their path. The rounds tore back through the shooters' throats and helmets. Three dropped instantly, gurgling as blood pooled across the floor. The surviving guards broke formation, panic flashing across their faces. Sabertooth pounced on the nearest. He caught the man's wrist as he tried to draw a sidearm, twisted it until the bone broke through the skin, then slashed across his midsection. His belly split open, intestines spilling down his legs. Sabertooth shoved him into the wall and left him to die choking on his own blood.

One desperate guard rushed in with a baton crackling with electricity. He swung at Sabertooth. Sabertooth stepped in, letting the strike hit across his shoulder, then drove his claws up under the man's chin. They tore through his throat and came out the top of his skull. The body jerked, spasming, before he ripped free and tossed it aside.

At the rear, another guard unslung a shotgun. He managed to get off one round. The blast ripped across Sabertooth's ribs, tearing cloth and skin. Sabertooth roared, staggered, then lunged through the smoke. Before the guard could reload, Magneto pinched two fingers together. The shotgun barrel crumpled flat. Toad leapt from the wall, both boots slamming into the man's chest. The impact drove the guard back into the deck with enough force to snap his spine.

The last man tried to retreat down the hall, shouting into his radio. Sabertooth was on him in three strides. He caught the man's collar, spun him, and smashed him headfirst into the wall. The helmet split, blood spraying across the concrete. The body slumped, twitching.

Magneto raised his hand again, tearing a steel beam free from the ceiling. It bent and twisted around the final survivor's arms and chest, pinning him to the floor in a bloody heap. The man thrashed, sputtering, but couldn't break free.

The corridor was silent now, apart from alarms and the groans of the half-dead. Blood slicked the floor. Rifles lay in pieces. Shredded bodies were strewn across the hall, some still twitching, most already still.

"Forward," Magneto said. "The lab is ahead."

Sabertooth bared his teeth, stepping through a pool of blood without hesitation. Toad hopped after and followed. Magneto walked behind them floating over the blood. A few corridors later the Brotherhood reached the final blast door. It was reinforced, steel layered over a hydraulic lock. Magneto stopped in front of it, his hand rising. Metal groaned as bolts tore free from their housings and hinges buckled inward. The entire frame twisted like foil. Sabertooth shoved the remains aside and stalked in first, shoulders brushing the doorframe. His claws dripped with blood from the corridor fight, leaving streaks across the white tiles.

The room froze. Scientists stood rooted at benches and consoles, their eyes wide behind their glasses. A few screamed and dove for cover, others raised their hands, shaking. "Run!" One of them shouted before turning around.

Sabertooth moved fast. He snatched a man by the throat before he could run, lifted him off the ground, and hurled him across a workstation. The impact shattered the table, shards of glassware scattering across the floor. Another scientist scrambled for the emergency door, but Toad bounded across the lab and lashed out his tongue. It wrapped around the man's ankle, dragged him back kicking and clawing. Toad landed on his chest, pinning him down with his knees, and struck him in the face until blood sprayed across the tiles.

Magneto followed them in, his cape brushing the floor. He raised both hands, and every loose tool and instrument in the room lifted from the benches. Scalpels, clamps, screwdrivers—all floated in the air like shrapnel waiting to fly. He gestured, and they shot across the room, embedding themselves in walls, consoles, and human flesh alike. Three scientists were pinned against the walls, their arms and legs nailed in place, screaming as steel dug into muscle.

Sabertooth prowled among the others, dragging one out by his collar and throwing him at Toad's feet. Toad spat a stream of acid onto the man's lab coat, the fabric hissing and burning away as it touched skin. The scientist shrieked and writhed, but Toad pressed a foot on his chest and kept him pinned, watching with cruel satisfaction as the flesh blistered.

The room filled with panic. One woman cried out, "We're researchers! Please! we're not combat staff, we don't know what you want!"

Magneto spoke in a calm voice. "You are not here by accident. SHIELD does not waste resources on simple research. There is something more beneath this facility. A device. A project. You will tell me where it is."

The scientists exchanged terrified looks, no one speaking.

Sabertooth reached down and tore the jaw clean off the nearest man with a swipe of his claws. Blood sprayed across the floor. The man collapsed, gurgling in shock, dead before he hit the ground. The silence afterward was deafening.

Magneto stepped closer, his eyes fixed on the group. "It is called the GeoCore Stabilizer." His hand closed slowly into a fist. Metal rods from a nearby rack twisted around two men, constricting tighter and tighter until bones cracked and ribs snapped through skin. Their screams filled the lab, then cut short as the rods crushed their chests flat. The broken bodies sagged in the bindings, dripping blood.

Another scientist sobbed. "We... we don't know what that is—"

Toad struck before he could finish. His tongue shot out, wrapped around the man's neck, and pulled hard. The cartilage gave way with a sharp pop. The body twitched once, then slumped. Toad spat him out and licked his lips.

Magneto's voice sharpened. "Where is it?"

Silence. Only the whimpering of those still alive.

Sabertooth grabbed a woman by the hair, dragged her forward, and raked his claws across her stomach in one savage motion. Her intestines spilled onto the floor, steaming in the cold air. She collapsed forward, gasping once before she went still.

Magneto turned his gaze on the last cluster of survivors. "Every moment you hesitate, another of you dies. Where is it?"

They wept, shaking, pressed against the corner. Still no one spoke.

Magneto extended his hand. Metal tools rose from the floor, reshaping into jagged spikes. With a flick, they shot forward and skewered two more. Their blood ran down the clean tiles, staining the white floor red. That was enough. A young technician broke, dropping to his knees with his hands raised high. "It's not here! They moved it last week. Please I can show you in the logs. Just don't... don't kill me."

Magneto lowered his hand slightly, the weapons dropping back to the ground.

"Then show me where they are."

_____________________________________

In the Baxter Building on the 34th floor, in a private room on the south side, Susan Storm... or Sue, as her friends knew her stood in front of the mirror. "Come on," she muttered to herself. What stared back was not her reflection but emptiness, just the blank wall behind where her body should have been. "Come on, focus."

She had practiced this numerous times since the accident, so she knew the drill. Calm your thoughts. Take control. It is your body. Slowly but surely, she started to reappear; her blonde hair materializing first in soft waves framing her face, followed by bright blue eyes that blinked into view, then the rest of her features sharpening, high cheekbones, full lips, and a defined jawline leading down to her neck and shoulders.

She breathed a sigh of relief, rolling her neck to shake off the tension. She supposed it could be worse. Ben had it bad, his body transformed into a hulking mass of orange rock that made every movement a struggle, while her brother Johnny could burst into flames at will, but risked burning everything around him if he lost control. Reed stretched like rubber, which came with its own set of complications, and her father had escaped unscathed at least they hadn't been able to see any of the cosmic ray effects in his body despite his blood being irradiated by it.

Compared to that Invisibility and the occasional force field felt manageable by comparison, though the daily ritual of willing herself visible still unnerved her.

Sue reached for the hem of her pajama top, pulling it over her head to reveal her body. Breadts that sat high on her chest with rounded curves and nipples centered on each, leading down to a flat stomach with faint lines of muscle from her active lifestyle, hips that flared out slightly from her waist, and legs toned from years of running and yoga. She slid off the pajama bottoms next, exposing thighs that met at a patch of trimmed blonde hair above her folds, her skin smooth and pale from lack of sun during quarantine. Stepping into the shower, she turned on the hot water, letting it cascade over her shoulders and down her back, soaking her hair as she lathered soap across her arms, chest, and stomach, her hands gliding over the curves of her breasts and the dip of her waist before rinsing clean.

As the steam filled the stall, her mind wandered back to the incident at the Marriott—the cosmic ray explosion that had changed everything. It started as a routine science convention, her father's foundation showcasing various scientific experiments, including Reed Richards' prototype for trans-dimensional travel, a device meant to bridge realities through controlled wormholes. But something went wrong... sabotage, she suspected, though she hadn't voiced it yet.

The core overloaded and it would've ended up destroying the city if not for one person.

For Mark.

Or invincible as he was now called, he stepped in and contained it, his quick thinking turning a city-level catastrophe into a contained implosion. That blast had altered them on a cellular level. They called it an accident publicly, but Sue knew better—the tampering was definitely deliebrate, though she couldn't pinpoint who.

SHIELD had swooped in immediately after, quarantining them in the Baxter Building for weeks of tests to check if they were dangerous or contagious, isolating them from the world with no calls, no visitors, just endless scans and questions. Being stuck with Johnny was torture, her brother turned every moment into a joke or a complaint, his flames accidentally scorching furniture more than once. Reed buried himself in guilt, convinced his design flaw caused it all, while Ben sank into depression over his monstrous appearance, barely speaking some days.

Her father tried to mediate, but his admiration for Reed clouded everything, having invited him personally after months of praise. The tension built like a pressure cooker, and Sue kept her sabotage theory quiet, not trusting Reed or Ben enough yet—they were the only ones with the expertise to tamper with the device apart from herself and her father—and knowing Johnny couldn't keep a secret if his life depended on it she couldn't tell him about her thoughts.

The only person she trusted at the moment was Mark. He had saved them all without hesitation, a true hero who flew into danger and out again like it was nothing, and his genius shone through when he helped stabilize the core. How he had contained the explosion was nothing short of amazing, even she hadn't been able to think of it!

She hadn't stopped thinking about him since, replaying their brief conversation in her mind, wishing she could contact him, but trapped in this lockdown with no way out she couldn't. If anyone could help unravel the sabotage, it was him.

Sue turned off the water, stepping out to towel dry, the steam clearing from the mirror as she wrapped herself briefly before heading back to her room. She dressed in a white button-up blouse tucked into slim black pants that hugged her legs, paired withboots and a light gray cardigan draped over her shoulders for the chill in the building's AC. She pulled her blonde hair into a neat bun, securing it with a clip, then sighed deeply, her reflection staring back with tired eyes before she turned and left the room, the door clicking shut behind her as she adjusted her cardigan, her mind already wandering to the day's potential experiments. Before she could take more than a few steps, Johnny came barreling around the corner, his eyes wide with excitement and a grin splitting his face.

"Sue! Hey, Sue! Guess what?" he said, skidding to a stop in front of her and grabbing her arms.

She pulled back slightly, her expression souring. "What, Johnny? And slow down, have you been drinking Dynojuice before breakfast again?"

He ignored her words, bouncing on his heels. "SHIELD's here! Some agent's upstairs talking to Dad right now, come on, this has gotta be it!"

Sue's face hardened, her dislike for SHIELD bubbling up immediately after weeks of being caged in the building like lab rats, poked and prodded without a say. "SHIELD? Great... I can't wait for our next battery of tests."

Johnny waved off her sarcasm, still buzzing. "Nah, this could be good! Maybe they're finally letting us out, no more lockdown, no more tests. Freedom, sis!"

She crossed her arms. "Do you even know what they want, or are you just hyped for no reason?"

He shook his head, but his grin didn't fade. "No clue, but it's gotta be about us getting out, why else would they show up now? This is it, I can feel—" His excitement peaked, and suddenly his hair burst into flames, the tips flickering orange as heat radiated off him.

Sue stepped back, chiding him sharply. "Johnny—control it! You're gonna set off the sprinklers again."

Johnny blinked, patting his head quickly to snuff out the fire with a sheepish look. "Sorry, sorry, got carried away. It's out, see?"

Sue sighed, rubbing her temple. "Let's just go see what they want before you burn the place down."

They headed to the elevator and rode up to the 35th floor, the conference room where her father, Reed, and Ben were already seated around a large table with Agent Coulson at the head, his suit impeccable and his expression neutral as always. Coulson looked up as they entered. "Thank you both for coming, please have a seat."

Sue rolled her eyes but sat next to her father, crossing her arms tightly while Johnny plopped down beside Ben, immediately leaning forward. "So, is this the part where you finally let us out of this damn building?" Johnny asked, not waiting for Coulson to start. "Cause I've been climbing the walls. Literally! Sometimes. When do we get our lives back? Is it today? Please say today."

Coulson opened his mouth to respond, but Johnny kept going. "And what about our powers? You guys done poking us? Cause if I have to sit through one more scan—"

Ben growled from his seat, his rocky form shifting with irritation. "Kid, shut it and let the man talk, you're giving me a headache."

Johnny shot him a glare. "Hey, I'm just asking what we're all thinking—"

"Johnny," Sue chimed in firmly, "sit down and listen."

Johnny huffed but leaned back, crossing his arms as Coulson cleared his throat.

"Thank you," Coulson said. "First, I want to thank all of you for your patience during this process and apologize for the confinement, it's not something we take lightly. Our scientists have determined that the incident at the Marriott was a one-off event, and any secondary effects are limited to your unique abilities. You're not contagious or a danger to the public in that sense."

Johnny fist-pumped under the table, but Coulson continued. "Quarantine will be lifted effective immediately, you're free to resume your lives."

Franklin leaned forward. "That's a relief, Agent, but I sense there's more."

Coulson nodded. "There is. The reason I'm here today is because SHIELD wants to work with the Baxter Foundation for the foreseeable future, partner on projects that could benefit from your expertise and... recent developments."

Franklin shook his head immediately. "Absolutely not. I won't make weapons for the government, that's why I broke away from those contracts in the first place; this foundation is for pure science, not military applications."

Coulson raised a hand reassuringly. "I understand your concerns, Doctor Storm, and I can guarantee that the projects we're proposing won't be used as weapons. This is about technology advancement, saving lives, exploring the unknown. We're not asking you to build bombs; we're asking for collaboration on tech that could change the world for the better."

Reed tilted his head, intrigued despite himself. "You'll have to give us more than assurances, Agent Coulsen, what kind of projects?"

Sue interrupted the back-and-forth, her voice cutting in. "Yeah, let's hear what exactly would we be working on?"

Coulson leaned back slightly. "For starters, a device called the GeoCore Stabilizer. Our scientists hit a dead end with it, and we think your team could get it operational."

Reed's interest piqued. "What does it do?"

Coulson explained. "Its job is to stabilize earthquakes and protect against tsunamis by dispersing the magnetic and seismic stresses inside the Earth's crust. It works by generating a controlled, rotating magnetohydrodynamic field around molten metal deposits deep underground. This keeps pressure from building in tectonic plates, potentially saving millions of lives from natural disasters."

Reed's eyes widened, leaning forward. "That's incredible... the implications for global safety alone... modulating crustal stresses in real time? We'd need to refine the MHD field calibration, but with the right data..."

Sue nodded slowly, impressed by the humanitarian angle. "It doesn't sound like a weapon...."

Franklin rubbed his chin, still hesitant but swayed by the description. "If it's truly non-military..."

Coulson pressed gently. "It is and we have more like it. Will you work with us?"

Franklin glanced at Sue and Reed, who both nodded encouragingly. "Alright we'll give it a shot, but if anything smells like weaponry, we're out."

Coulson smiled faintly. "Fair enough. Thank you— we'll send more information soon, along with the device itself. You're free to come and go as you please now, but for security reasons, we'd appreciate it if you continued living in the Baxter Building for the time being."

They agreed with murmurs around the table, and Coulson stood, shaking hands before heading out. Johnny bolted from his seat the second the door closed, pumping his fist. "Yes! Freedom! I'm outta here!"

Sue walked quickly behind him, her steps extremely fatst as she ignored her father's calls from the room—"Sue, wait, we should discuss this!"—her mind set on finally escaping the confines that had felt like a prison for too long; she needed to get out, to breathe fresh air and clear her head.