Hey everyone, it's been a while huh? I know I promised faster uploads and less filler, but with everything going on in the world right now I'm afraid I won't be able to come through on either one of those promises, at least for now. I finally have a laptop, so I'm hoping that my muse will finally return to my now that I'm actually capable of writing again, though I'm afraid the worries over how I'm gonna make my way back across more than 16 thousand kilometers (or about ten thousand miles for those of you stubbornly refusing to get with the program) may make that somewhat difficult. As for the filler part, this chapter still doesn't have Michael Goomba stomping the remains of the Hand or leaving Earth, but it does leave of right before that happens, which means we will be getting to that in the next chapter and him meeting the Dwarves in either the same chapter or the one after that. No promises on when that's coming out though, since I also want to update both my Verily, A New Hope and the Green Lantern fics, as well as write a new one/rewrite my old one about Naruto (or Boruto's Dad if you wanna be meme-y about it). Sorry 'bout the rant, just wanted to let y'all know that I'm alive, still working on this, and immensely grateful to all of you who haven't given up on me yet.
/
Last time on: The Marvelous Misadventures of Michael McCole
There's a moment of silence between us, before I surprise myself by speaking up, trying to break the awkwardness between us.
"I will not apologize for my actions. No excuse will amend what I did to you and your family, and while I have several, out of respect for your pain, I shall not voice them. Know that I hold no ill intent to you or your people. My clash with your mother and sister was a result of Ramonda's fierce love of her daughter and my own mental instability at the time. I do not seek the destruction of Wakanda or its people, and I swear I do not seek to torment you, though finding out the fate of your sister and the end results of my clash with her must certainly feel that way. Know that while I will not apologize for my actions, I do regret them, and looking at all the pain and suffering they have caused, I wish things could have done differently."
I hesitate for a moment, before walking up and laying a massive hand on his shoulder.
"I know this will mean very little to you, coming from me but I am sorry for your loss, T'Challa. Truly."
This time on: The Marvelous Misadventures of Michael McCole
/
As expected, T'Challa had difficulty accepting my condolences, twisting his shoulder from underneath my hand and stepping away from me with a scowl on his face.
"Save me your words and your pity. I have no use for either." the prince growled out and I gave him a shallow nod.
"Very well. But I would urge you to heed my words regardless, T'Challa. We are at an impasse here and if you wish for your people to survive, then you and I need to resolve this peacefully and maturely. That means through dialogue." I stressed and the man doesn't take lightly to my unsubtle threat to the other people in the building.
Still, there's very little he can do other than nod grudgingly. He knows that he cannot fight me, so all that's left for him to try is persuade me instead.
"And what is this impasse then?"
"You have seen what became of Shuri. You know what will happen if you allow yourself to be consumed by hate, as it had your sister and as it has your cousin. I think you are a great enough man to realize this, and refuse to let yourself to be consumed as well. But I also know that you can't just let me walk away from all the suffering I have wrought on your family. Meanwhile, I don't wish to kill you. It might be the most expedient solution, perhaps even the most logical, but I'd rather let you be in peace instead. Unfortunately, I can't just do so and risk having you run to the authorities or the Avengers. The subsequent fight would be catastrophic and would at the very best merely result in a pyrrhic victory for me. Hence, our impasse."
T'Challa is silent for a moment, giving a slow, thoughtful nod.
"We don't wish to continue fighting, but we also cannot bring ourselves to walk away from the fight instead." he notes in a cynical voice, prompting a shrug from me in response.
"Precisely. Which is why we need to engage in dialogue with each other. Figure this out. Know what the other wants and what he's willing to settle for or compromise on. Only by diffusing the fight completely will either one of us be free from it to move on with our lives."
T'Challa clearly struggles with my suggestion, turning it over in his mind, but there's very little he can do other than accept. Both for the sake of his people and for his own, fraying, peace of mind.
"Very well then. Let's 'open a dialogue', as you say." the prince eventually says with a determined gleam in his eye.
After an awkward pause, I suggested that we should both list our priorities and go from there. Unsurprisingly, he began with wanting justice for Wakanda: Erik off the throne (dead if possible) and me behind bars. I countered that with the survival of Earth, something that clearly took him off guard until I pointed out that I had been instrumental in saving our planet twice already and that this was hardly the last time that Earth would be threatened on such a scale.
He grudgingly had to accept the truth of my words and subsequently that my priority overrode his: I can't save Earth if I'm thrown into a Wakandan prison cell and there'd be little justice for Wakanda if there simply wasn't a Wakanda in the first place. Still, that didn't exclude the option of getting Erik off his throne, which I conceded. Him calling himself the Golden Leopard and expanding the Wakandan borders to a significant part of sub-Saharan Africa was an unforeseen consequence of my actions in Wakanda (one of many), but one that I hadn't particularly minded as it gave me an in with the guy currently sitting on the largest Vibranium deposits on the planet: deposits that I desperately needed.
Here, T'Challa's eyebrow had raised as a calculating gleam entered his eyes, asking me how much of that Vibranium I actually needed. Taking my future body into account, as well as what would be necessary for the associated projects to make that happen, I gave him a rough estimate.
As it turned out, while T'Challa seemed somewhat worried about the high number, it was still less than a percents worth of the readily available stores within Wakanda's deposits.
"Could this be our compromise then?" the prince asked with a slight smirk, hope returning to him now that he was given a chance to plan and act, instead of uselessly spinning his wheels any longer.
"Hmm. The throne of Wakanda in return for the Vibranium that I need? Had you come to me a week ago, I would have indeed considered that an acceptable trade." I muse slowly out loud, deep in thought.
"What changed then?" T'Challa is quick to ask, a frown marring his face.
"Time." I respond simply, elaborating at the prince's surprised look.
"I am ambivalent as to what happens in Africa. I care only about my people and Othrys, so I don't really much care who it is that sits on the throne in Wakanda. I merely need its Vibranium and right now Erik can deliver that to me. However, removing him and installing you would be time consuming: I can't just portal in, rip off his head and proclaim you king. Many people follow his rule, it would take time before your position is secure enough that you can safely deliver the amounts of Vibranium I require. So I would lose a significant amount of time to obtain something that is already within my reach: Erik's hold over Wakanda is strong enough to give me the Vibranium and I have enough of a hold over him to make him do so."
"I think I can assuage your worries there. If it is as easy for you to kill Erik as you say, then I can promise that I can get you the Vibranium you need in less than a week."
"You can root out his supporters that fast?" I ask in surprise and out of suspicion.
Wakanda hadn't gone to an open civil war yet, keeping the conflict to the skirmishes in the shadows between Erik's War Dogs and those loyal to T'Challa. Still, it was no secret that it weren't just the War Dogs who still followed the legitimate ruler and while many within Wakanda itself kept their heads down, there was still a lot of loyalty to be found there for the exiled prince. That's not to mention those conquered nations who chafed under foreign rule now that Erik had been marching his armies to great success.
However, you can't stay a king for years if you didn't have supporters of your own and for every person that followed the old traditions (and thus followed the old king) there was a person who embraced Wakanda's new position on the world stage (and thus embraced the new king). Additionally, while some nations chafed under Wakanda, others prospered, mostly those that had been ravaged by war or poverty and whose populace was now profiting from having advanced Wakandan technology in their everyday lives.
For T'Challa to claim that he could silence all of those supporters in less than a week… it would take an amount of ruthlessness I more closely associated with his cousin (or, well… me) than him. He was too much on the side of the angels for a purge of that scope, or so I had thought. I had also thought that Shuri was a little teenage girl who was clever in a lab, outdated in her use of memes, and not much worth in a fight before my little trip to the African nation.
People change. Who knows how the years on the run have changed the prince following the trauma of losing his parents and now his sister as well?
Some of my doubts must have shown up on my face, because T'Challa quickly elaborated.
"I'm no fool: I know that there are those who follow my brother willingly. Political advisors who have gained much from Wakanda's expanding frontier. Warriors who revel in the abundance of conflict. He's popular in the military, expected given his background. Know that I don't take his hold over my people lightly, Hyperion. But, I still have eyes and ears in the capital and I know that the common people are still loyal to me. They obey Erik out of fear: the rage of the Golden Leopard is well known and they are wise to try and avoid his wrath. Then there are also the legitimate governments of the countries that Erik has conquered, but who have been spirited away by my War Dogs to a secure location. They are primed to be returned to power nearly overnight and I have several weapons caches and pockets of supporters just waiting for a signal back in the capital. From the first day since I had to leave the cooling corpse of my father behind me as I fled the palace, I've been putting everything into place to take it back again. All the people need now is their champion: which you can return to them, with ease even."
I remained silent as I thought on T'Challa's offer, trying my best to assess all the possible risks and rewards. Truthfully, there wasn't much of a reward: as I told him, that which he had offered me was something that I could already get, both sooner and with a better guarantee. Really, the only thing that this would accomplish that keeping Erik in power couldn't was getting T'Challa out of my (figurative) hair. Finally tie off the loose end that Wakanda's royal family had turned out to be. Unfortunately the risk there was that it would turn out T'Challa wouldn't stick to his word and instead use his country's resources to come after Othrys, in which case I saw very little alternatives to just ripping the entire goddamn city out of the ground and tossing it into orbit, which I know can be done, thanks to Ultron.
How to mitigate the risk then?
An idea quickly came to mind, and wishing to finally have all of this over with, I decided on my course of action.
"Very well. I return the throne of Wakanda to you today, you deliver the amounts of Vibranium I need to me within the week. But I need an assurance that this agreement will be the end of the conflict between you and me. I will bring a partition of Phineas with me, who will install himself in the systems of the Palace, acting in a purely observational capacity, hitching a ride as it were. Additionally, I shall appoint one of my Masters of the Mystic Arts to Wakanda, though they won't require residence in the Palace itself if you're particularly opposed to that. The land of Wakanda is rich in energy and magic and I think both our people could benefit from closer cooperation. Perhaps I'll arrange with your great grandchildren for a fourth Sanctum to be built there." I stated.
T'Challa frowned deeply when I mentioned Phineas and looked somewhat surprised when I mentioned negotiating with his descendants, mentally needing to adjust somewhat to the scale of time in which I could plan things.
It still took me off guard on occasion as well, but before the whole Captain Marvel debacle, my lifespan could be measured in centuries at least, if not millenia, which would've put it on Asgardian levels already. Should my new body come through, a lifespan measured in the millions might be distinctly possible.
"I reserve the right to have Wakanda's own premiere scientists check the extent to which your friend has embedded himself into our systems, as well as the right to install a kill switch to shut down the system in its entirety should we notice that he has overstepped his bounds. He'll only gain entry into Wakanda in a purely observational capacity, nothing more." he demanded, and I readily agreed.
Since it only concerned a partition of Phineas' mind, them shutting down their own systems would hardly mean his own death after all and that's not even considering T'Challa's misconception that his scientists were actually clever enough to spot Phineas when he didn't want to be seen.
"Deal." I intone gravely, extending my large hand towards him.
T'Challa looks at it with apprehension clear on his face, as if I'm about to reach out and crush his skull like a watermelon. Then again, he has probably done some extensive research on me, including analyzing footage of my fights, so it makes only sense that he's somewhat wary of coming within the range of my hands, knowing perfectly well what they're capable of.
Finally, he gets over himself, stepping towards me and slipping his much smaller hand into my own, his grip noticeable, but featherly light. He's probably squeezing it with all his strength, looking for a reaction on my face.
When all he gets in return is a nonchalant grin, his eyes widen slightly and he can't quite keep them from flitting down to our clasped hand in shock before regaining his composure, having confirmed for himself what he already intellectually knew.
I was completely and utterly out of his league.
Seeing that realization settling in and him coming to grips with it through my own psychokinetics is what truly convinced me that I did the right thing here. With my safety measures in place, I was now certain that putting T'Challa back in place on the Wakandan throne wouldn't bite me in the ass (at least immediately, which was all that counted really).
Then something I said earlier registers with T'Challa and his eyes widen in clear shock.
"Wait, did you say 'today'-?"
Before he's even finished voicing the question, a large portal stretching from the floor to the ceiling slams into existence behind me, and on the other side Erik Killmonger can be seen sitting on his throne, looking up from a sheaf of papers in clear shock.
Giving T'Challa a cheeky grin as I turn around and step through the portal, I call out to him over my shoulder.
"Did you have anything better to do, my King?"
Hurried footsteps quickly follow and for the first time in years T'Challa sets foot on the soil of his homeland.
Or rather, the marble tiles of his homeland, but it's the image that counts.
"What's the meaning of this?" Erik asks dangerously as he overcomes his shock, heat skyrocketing around him as he rises to his full length.
"Erik Killmonger, you sit on that throne by illegal means. You murdered the previous King outside of the official channels in which this is usually done, because somehow that is just fine and dandy. Therefore, you have no right to rule over the Wakandan people and as such, you have been replaced by the rightful heir to the throne, T'Challa, son of T'Chaka."
For a moment, the great hall, filled with nearly a hundred people watching on in gaping silence, remains completely frozen as everybody (including T'Challa at my side) can't quite believe what's going on.
It's Erik who first snaps out of it, splaying his arms wide and looking from side to side at the people present in his palace.
"Replaced huh? Doesn't look like it to me, so why don't you-"
He's cut off as I'm suddenly right there in his face, having crossed the dozens of meters between us in less time than it took him to blink. I'm leaning forwards, making our eyes on the same level but the glow coming from mine outshines his by quite a bit and the movement is just so sudden that Erik can't keep himself from falling back into his chair.
"This is merely a formality, Erik. To tell the people what is going on. You are a usurper. I gave you that throne: now I'm taking it back, letting the natural order of things return to Wakanda and ending the influence of Michael McCole here." I rumble, straightening to my full height so I'm towering over the dictator and his throne both.
While all this is going on, Phineas (who has been observing everything from the moment I portalled over to T'Challa's warehouse by hitching a ride in my hidden and folded up armor) remotely connects to the Palace's systems and sends off a partition of himself to infiltrate it, while simultaneously shooting a message to the Ancient One's cell phone, detailing my agreement with T'Challa and asking her to send a trusted wizard to the Wakandan Court.
For a lady born during the Middle Ages, she's surprisingly capable of keeping up with modern technology (though me giving her an Othrys phone certainly helped matters)
"Natural order of things?!" Erik sputters, before jumping back to his feet again, getting right up in my face, which is either impressively brave or impressively stupid.
Probably a bit of both.
"This is the natural order of things! Under my guidance, Wakanda has finally claimed it's rightful position in the world! These people, my people, will no longer hide and cower behind walls and forcefields! We are not going to suppress ourselves, or allow ourselves to be oppressed, ever again! We are rising up, freeing our brothers and sisters, and-!"
"Don't care."
The deadpan reply takes the winds out of Erik's sails, who has been shouting increasingly louder as his rant went on, while the temperature surrounding us kept increasing, far rapidly and higher than what Killian's Extremis puppets had been capable of in the past.
Intriguing, but ultimately not worth my time, which could be said for basically everything surrounding this whole clusterfuck.
"You can stand there and scream all you want about how your nationalist and expansionist policies are for the betterment of the Wakandan people and blacks all over the world and you might even be right on some level. But that's not my problem and it's not why I'm here. I need T'Challa back on his throne: you're an obstacle to that and therefore there's only one thing left to be done with you. You are to be removed, effective immediately." I say, slowly turning around and beginning to move away from him.
Heat explodes behind me as the familiar buzz of nano-technology fills the room, the 'shing!' noise of two unsheathed blades reaching my ears as Erik begins talking, his voice distorted by his Golden Leopard suit.
"You think it'll be that easy?! You think I haven't prepared for your betrayal!? I have trained for this since the moment you-"
And that's as far as he gets. Without even turning around, or so much as pausing in my step, a silvery metallic arc appears out of nothingness behind me, disappearing just as fast in a quickly fading streak of light.
A second passes, then two and then there's a light thud, followed by a heavier one. And Erik's head rolls all the way from his thrown down the length of the hall to come to a rest before T'Challa's feet, angry expression still on his face and mouth sperred open in a vitriolic tirade (thanks to some telekinesis from yours truly, just for effect).
If someone were to have a high-speed camera and meticulously play back the footage, they would have spotted a miniature Harpe slipping out of my left sleeve, arcing behind me and enlarging to full size as it does so, just in time for its gleaming curved blade to slide effortlessly through Erik's neck as if it weren't even there, before shrinking back down to miniature size again as it completes its arc, shuffling itself neatly up my right sleeve.
All in all, Erik Killmonger, N'Jadaka son of N'Jobu, Prince of Wakanda, the Golden Leopard, died in less than half a second.
I had less issue killing him than I would have with T'Challa, considering his mental instability and the fact that he was a villain, even if he didn't pose a real issue to my plans. He was as much of a bad guy as I was and nobody would mourn him now that he was gone, other than those who had profited from having him in power.
He wouldn't even be missed by the people he had 'freed' as there was very little doubt in my mind that T'Challa would make sure that the common people that had benefited from Wakanda's new foreign policies wouldn't fall back into squalor, while restoring their rightful governments to them.
All in all, everyone got what they wanted, even Erik, though he didn't get to enjoy it for as long as he had probably hoped for.
"Sir, your throne awaits." I rumble in slight amusement as I come to stand next to T'Challa who is looking down at the head at his feet with a blank expression of shock on his face.
Slowly, the young prince looks up from his decapitated cousin, to the stunned people filling the hall, to the empty throne and then to me.
"This…" he begins, only to trail off as the right words fail him and I can see his mind flashing back to our confrontation a little over an hour ago and can almost feel the icy cold chill that flows down his spine as he realizes the sheer ease with which I could've killed him.
With which I could have killed all of his men.
He quickly licks his lips, before straightening himself after glancing at the surrounding people again, determined to step up now that they're completely lost.
"This is going to be… difficult… to explain. To many people, not merely my own."
"As I told your cousin, my King: don't. care. I have held up my end of the bargain." I say, clasping his shoulder in a seemingly friendly manner, but though my grip is light, the strength that is kept at bay is felt clearly by him and he swallows as I rumble my next words in a low tone of voice.
"Make sure that you hold up yours."
Loosening my grip and patting his shoulder (which nearly sends him to his knees) I step through the still open portal back towards New York, letting it fall shut behind me without a further thought.
Phineas would keep an eye on things as T'Challa would try to get things back in order again. Should the Wakandan still try to screw me over, then my friend would notify me well beforehand, having spread to nearly all systems in the Palace and several security circuits throughout the entire city. If that came to pass, I'd kill T'Challa with the same speed as I had his cousin (though I'd be a lot stealthier about it), since he would knowingly forfeit any goodwill he had with me.
I felt for the guy because to him, I just dropped out of the sky out of seemingly nowhere, screwed over his entire life and country and then fucked off to become a successful businessman. So it was understandable he wouldn't think too kindly of me and I honestly kind of felt for the guy.
He decides to come after me though, after we both promised we'd bury the hatchet and go our separate ways? That's betrayal, and therefore, sufficient motive to get over my sympathy for the guy and just remove him from the equation entirely.
Should he choose to keep his word though, but be unable to keep up his part of the deal to provide me with the Vibranium needed due to the hornets nest I kicked up and then left him to deal with, then that would be annoying but more understandable and therefore forgivable.
Especially since in that case Phineas still had complete control over all security and observation measures in their mines so I could just portal in and rob them blind unseen. I'd give T'Challa a chance to come through before I would resort to that though, I was trying to be a nice guy here.
Arriving in New York, I leave the warehouse through the broken window and fly back to Othrys, trying to relax and enjoy the feeling of flight as I mentally reviewed the rest of my list of 'shit to get done before getting my body'.
The smooth flight is briefly interrupted by a quick heads up from Phineas alerting me that the Ancient One received my message and is currently choosing a representative of the Mystic Arts to send to Wakanda. She's thinking of sending Kaecillius, but in the interest of fairness she'll open up the position to all that are qualified first, in order to see if anyone's particularly interested in laying the groundwork for what may eventually turn into a New Sanctum.
There'd probably be a lot of eager participants, but with the massive influx of new members following Hell Week it was important to make sure enough qualified wizards remained in the sanctums to oversee the new students and make sure nobody killed themselves, or worse, tore the fabric of reality asunder when all they wanted to do was heat a cup of tea.
Touching down on Othrys' lawn and affectionately patting my Leviathan on its massive head as it rushed up out of the East River when it sensed my approach, I give a satisfied nod.
'All in all, a productive day indeed.'
/
It was two days later that Dr. Cho arrived, during which I had finalized my alliance with Afterlife and overseen the construction of our personal Bifrost. The former had been surprisingly cut and dry: Jiaying had only asked that Othrys would open its doors to any and all Inhumans should they sheek shelter, no questions asked and that we share what we knew of Kree history and technology (more specifically, the Diviners and the Words of God) with them. In return, Afterlife would be open to all employees of Othrys (though some areas would be off limits) and they would share their own experience with Inhuman powers with me as well.
Additionally they had offered to take in Skye and Darryl in order to educate them in the use of their powers, and while Skye agreed to come visit semi-regularly every few days in order to train with her parents (that is, if Calvin wasn't feeling too terrible after being beaten to a pulp by a grudge-carrying Jim Harper) Darryl had declined.
Or rather, his mother had, unwilling to leave the safety of Othrys so that her mutant son could join a bunch of misfits and outcasts with nebulous and strained ties to humanity. When Gideon, who had arrived at Othrys as Jiaying's spokesman, had tried to convince her by stating that it was important Darryl could learn how to control his powers, or he might injure someone in his flame form, Shannon had simply crossed her arms and given him a very flat stare (impressive, considering Gideon's lack of eyes).
She had simply asked "honey?" and her husband who had been standing silently and supportively next to her, tilted back his head and let out a six feet long cone of flame from his throat. Darryl had gotten caught up in excitement, burst into flames and tilted his own head back as well, repeating his dad's performance, though his own cone of fire was just shy of being only four feet long instead.
As fire and heat ranged around them, Shannon had merely raised an eyebrow in challenge, though her posture was resigned.
Gideon hadn't pushed any further after that little demonstration.
Due to Jessica going on a demonically infused roaring rampage of revenge towards Asia, Skye being present at Othrys less often in order to reconnect with her messed up parents and Jane being completely engrossed in her work regarding the manipulation of the space-time continuum beyond even what some of the most advanced species in the universe were capable of (not to mention being difficult to talk to in general for someone who hadn't been Brain Boosted themselves as well), Daisy had ended up feeling somewhat lonely, which had caused her to drift closer to the band of misfits I had taken back to Earth after my trip to Sakaar and Xandar, and they were steadily becoming fast friends.
Daisy loved getting Peter up to speed with the 20+ years of Earth (pop) culture he had been missing and he was giddy as a kid about it all ("they made more Star Wars movies! This is gonna be great!") which in turn roped in the aliens as well. Bill was professional about it all, stating that it was important to understand the culture and heritage of the world that his employer hailed from (though how exactly that translated to the hour long discussion between Peter and Daisy on whether or not Die Hard was a Christmas movie or not I wasn't sure), Groot tagged along just because he enjoyed the general bubbly atmosphere surrounding Daisy (who in turn had taken one look at the smiling tree and declared on the spot that she would protect him and save him from Maya's clutches, something that turned out to be a somewhat herculean task of its own) which in turn meant that Rocket went along with it all too, mostly just to laugh whenever Peter was inevitably disappointed by the direction some of his favorite movie franchises had taken ("midichlorians?! that's bullshit!").
The group had also, somehow, taken Bucky under their wing. It hadn't gone without any difficulty though. First off, there was Peter's and Darcy's reaction to him. Despite being born in the 80's and 90's respectively, they had still seen Bucky's face in plenty of their history textbooks whenever (inevitably) America's greatest achievement and champion, Captain America was being brought up.
Every kid since the '50s knew the tragedy of Captain America's closest friend, so to see him standing in front of you, with a mechanical arm for some reason, was understandably something that took a little while to wrap your head around. Peter adapted easier to it than Darcy, partly because of all the weird shit he had already seen during his life among the Ravagers and partly (as well as hilariously), because Darcy used to have a poster of the Howling Commandos on her bedroom wall.
Where girls in my universe had been obsessed with nonsense like which member of N'Sync they liked best, or the whole Team Edward vs Team Jakob thing that had been going on for a while, girls in this universe argued over who the hottest Commando was, with each having their own legion of fans.
They were like the Beatles, only war heroes instead and colleagues of the most successful supersoldier ever to boot.
Naturally, with his dark looks and tragic backstory, there was a not insignificant amount of women of the female persuasion who swooned over Bucky instead of over the Captain and to my great (and wisely hidden) amusement, Darcy had been one of them.
Poster!Bucky had seen some shit, which meant that Real!Bucky was confused in the extreme as to why Darcy acted absolutely mortified around him. He acted a lot easier around Peter, which was mostly because Peter's attempts to not have his masculinity be intimidated by the supersoldier completely went over Bucky's head, though Rocket took great enjoyment in needling Peter over them.
The Rocket Racoon actually got along rather easily with Bucky, who was familiar with Rocket's type of crass humor from his time in the Army. While they hadn't really had a heart to heart or anything, both also recognized the similarities between themselves, with Rocket not bothering to hide the ports along his spine when they all went swimming in my indoor pool (a tiny, perfect temperature lake would also be an apt description), which corresponded remarkably to the ones that sat along the sides of Bucky's spine as well.
Given Rocket's closeness with Groot, this meant that Bucky got along very well with the sapient tree as well, which was probably because Groot didn't really tend to do much talking and instead was usually just smiling like a doofus at everything. Hansen (after finally getting her hands on him for a few minutes before he ran through a wall in terror) told me that it was his reaction to my Chi that made him so very relaxed, basing it off her test results as well as my description of his sunflower reaction back on Xandar.
The life-nurturing properties of my Chi reacted intensely with his own unique status as a floral lifeform, which not only strengthened him but also felt extremely pleasant, and by just living and breathing in Othrys for so long, the very fortress itself was infused with minute traces of my Chi, which he in turn responded to as well, just not so dramatically as to spontaneously erupt in sunflowers.
Basically, I had a Flora Collossus in my base which was continually high on catnip.
It didn't really seem to harm him or affect him beyond being even more easy going than he already was so I had opted not to act on it for now.
Surprisingly, the most rocky start in the group had been between Bucky and Bill. While they had similarities in their shared military background and nature as cyborgs which had allowed them to be at ease with each other at first, Bill had turned very cold towards Bucky when it came out that I had taken him to Othrys so that the supersoldier could become the next Ghost Rider host.
Given how he had lost his planet and people to demons, Bill took a very dim opinion on anyone who would willingly embrace demonic powers, even if the demon in question wasn't of the exact same flavor as Surtur and his minions.
He didn't really have a problem with my role in the whole mess, considering it had hardly been my choice to place the Ghost Rider in Jessica in order to take down Shuri and the fact that I had been actively searching for a way to get the (literally) damned thing out of her as soon as possible, but he felt very uncomfortable at the ease with which Bucky seemed to embrace the Spirit as long as it would give him a chance at Vengeance against the people who had turned him into a monster and mindless killing machine.
Bucky wasn't just going to take criticism laying down however, and had stood up from the table they had been sitting at, ready to defend himself with words or action if need be. Thankfully, the entire situation had been discussed before Bill could turn the aged soldier into a smear on my walls by Daisy piping up, stating that what Bucky was willing to do wasn't so different from what Bill himself had agreed to.
Judging by the glare he had sent her she had better explain fast and so she had stammered that all Bucky was really doing was offering up his body so that he could become stronger, just like Bill had done in order to become the Beta-Ray. Bill had coldly pointed out that he had agreed to such a procedure to save his people, which could not be said of Bucky who merely desired revenge.
To which Bucky had angrily spit out that there was nobody left for him to save. The Howling Commandos were all dead, either due to old age or on other battlefields following the war. Others from his time were dead as well, but by his own hand no less: he couldn't even bring himself to visit their graves before being overcome with soul crushing guilt. The only two people left alive were Steve and Peggy. Peggy wouldn't even hesitate for a second to put a bullet between his eyes and Steve… Steve would give up everything to save Bucky from the rest of the world.
It was a choice that Bucky refused to force upon his brother.
So, completely isolated as he was, he saw only one cause of action: make those responsible for this entire mess pay. He needed the Spirit for that if he wanted to track them all down and overcome any nasty surprises they had left. Bill had been somewhat mollified by his motivations, but was still uncomfortable about being so close to a demon, until Peter pointed out that Bucky was actually doing the world a service: by taking the Spirit into his body and making sure to keep control over his soul and mind, Bucky was effectively throwing a demon in an unbreakable jail.
That thought had visibly pleased Bill and there had thankfully been no further tension between him and the supersoldier.
While her friend had been playing peacemaker between a presumed-dead supersoldier and an alien cyborg, Jane Foster had buried herself in her Bifrost work. Having had the chance to study the Tesseract while Brain Boosted had done wonders for her understanding of the underlying mechanisms of the universe, especially since she could bounce her ideas of off Selvig and his obtained Asgardian knowledge. Actually building the Bifrost using her painstakingly gained theories was slow going however, mostly due to the materials required.
However, between my stores of Vibranium and a heaping order for Iridium from the Schafer Siecherheitsdienst in Stuttgart, the structure had been steadily underway. The last issue that Jane was dealing with was how to actually aim the thing. Punching a hole in reality is easy: making sure you can safely travel through it is another thing entirely and this includes making sure that if you actually were going to go through it, you didn't land in the heart of a star or the gravitational black hole or something.
To tackle this, she was pouring over the information that Sterns brought back from Sakaar and Xandar regarding the Jump Gates that littered the Galaxy and which allowed for easy and safe interstellar travel. Unfortunately, while most species knew how to use them and what the dangers of mis-using them were, nobody really understood how they worked. They had been in place already even when the Asgardians had first taken to the stars and during that whole time, not a single one had broken down or failed.
Some civilisations (like the Kree) had on occasion debated trying to take one apart, but since they all seemed to be linked, this was seen as far too dangerous, with a catastrophic cascade shutting down the entire network listed as just one of the possible scenarios.
In fact it had been the Kree tampering with a Jump Gate that had sparked the conflict which had eventually erupted in the massive full out war between them and the Nova Empire.
The whole thing gave me Mass Effect-vibes and I fully understood why the Asgardians figured out their own method of interstellar travel as soon as they did, even if it did cut them off from the larger galaxy and confined them to the Yggdrasil. That this coincided roughly with the same time that Odin turned a new leaf and sealed his murder-crazy daughter away was probably no coincidence.
Still, that left Jane with a lot of conjecture to go on, but between the knowledge she and Selvig gained from the Tesseract and her own stubbornness, I was sure she'd figure it out. For now I'd be fine using Oliver to get around anyways.
While all this had been going down, Dr. Cho had finally arrived at Othrys, and Hall wouldn't be far behind. The woman didn't even have the good graces to look contrite at how long she had been making me wait, instead asking me where her lab was almost immediately after arriving on Othrys' docks and shaking my hand.
Since I was on a tight schedule myself I let go of my frustration and instead directed her to one of the higher sub-levels of Othrys to a standard-issue lab of her own (meaning it was absolutely bleeding edge where the rest of the world was concerned) with the Particle Infusion Chamber and Whitehall's own research already waiting for her.
Cho had already perfected the theory behind her Cradle but had yet to find a backer with deep enough pockets so that she could make the damned thing. Between the fact that I did my best John Hammond impression of sparing no expense (and actually following through on that statement instead of pushing almost the entirety of my island's security network on a single guy and then underpaying and belittling that same guy and then having the gall to act shocked and surprised when he ends up betraying me for his greed) and that I had access to materials and technology her old bosses could only dream of and salivate over and she assured me that actually building the Cradle itself would be a matter of weeks at most.
Incorporating the Particle Infusion Chamber would be tricky, but there were some similarities in the way it and her Cradle operated which would make bridging the gap between the two easier, especially with Whitehall's own research and thoughts on the matter readily available in a nice pdf. format (certainly more pleasant to work with than having to actually be in the same room as the man himself).
When I showed her our research on Vibranium as well as a small sample to experiment with, her eyes got a familiar gleam in them that I recognized from my other scientists whenever they were about to do SCIENCE! That gleam only intensified when I told her just how much more of the miracle stuff I would be receiving in the near future.
Almost immediately the woman had taken a seat at the nearest computer terminal and had been engrossed in her work within seconds, so with a bemused shake of my head I left her to her devices. If she'd run into problems or if she'd come close to finishing it, then she'd be capable of reaching me within moments through Phineas anyways, so there was no need for me to hover over her.
Almost a full day after Cho installed herself at Othrys did Hall arrive on my island. The aged scientist was both eager to start working and somewhat standoffish. The fact that he was now closer than ever to actually completing his research was conflicting with his frustration with being very clearly shown to no longer be the smartest in the room. Hell, when it came to raw intellectual capacity, the both of us were fairly evenly matched and he had been widely considered a genius by the scientific community, if not somewhat of the whacky kind for devoting his life to a material as rare as Gravitonium.
Really the only reason he was here was because of his pre-existing knowledge on the matter, which meant it was easier to just get him up to speed with the rest of us rather than having to divert someone else on my Think Tank from their own SCIENCE! in order to master this field as well.
They could do it, but it would take time, even for Sterns. Of course with how much Hall had been dragging his feet I belatedly realized that it probably would have been faster to just have Sterns go through all of Hall's published papers (and unpublished ones as well courtesy of Phineas' prodigious hacking skills) and become an expert on Gravitonium in less time than it took Hall to actually get his damned ass over here, but since that was crying over spilt milk I put it out of my mind and Hall to work.
I had a special project in mind that I wanted him to work on, using the Gravitonium that I had amassed through my Winter Soldiers and the Vibranium that I was soon to get my hands on. It eventually took me a little bit of time to actually explain the plan to him, as the scientist went positively giddy when I showed him the unstable floating mass of Gravitonium, which had turned out to be slightly larger than he was, the largest concentrated amount of the stuff anywhere on the planet (suck it Quinn!).
Between his giddiness and my own repeated insistence on going over OSHA regulations and Othrys' custom security measures it took a couple of minutes before he finally settled down enough to actually shut up and listen to me unveiling my plan, which caused him to look at me with a gaping mouth and wide eyes.
"That's… well, I would say it was physically impossible five minutes ago, but having seen the sheer amount of Gravitonium in your possession… still, it's surely illegal-"
"Doctor, I have been networking with the United Nations ever since SHIELD sent their cosmically supercharged attack dog to bash my skull in on the day of Natasha Romanov's funeral. That, in addition to my current standing both with the public and the government, have proven to be quite useful to make sure everything is in order. Trust me Doctor, even if it had been illegal, hell even if it still is illegal… it isn't for me."
"I… I see." Hall responded, and much of the spite that he had been carrying around with him ever since I approached him (and I suspect for decades before that as well) slowly bled out of him as he truly understood my power, not just physically but politically as well.
And the realization that he was now under the purview of said power, with all the benefits that it implied.
Hunger creeped into his expression as he looked back at the person-sized glob of shifting Gravitonium, a hand coming up to thoughtfully brush his chin.
"A third you said? I have a third to work with?"
"At maximum. I'm hoping that the amount of Vibranium that will shortly be available will ease your dependence on this material for the completion of your project. I wish to use as much as possible of the stuff, preferably 80 or more percent in fact, for another project that I had in mind, which has a far higher priority. Dr. Cho is already working on laying the foundations for said project and I want you to work closely with her on the Particle Infusion Chamber and the possibilities for Gravitonium as outlined by Whitehall."
"Of course." Hall quickly agrees, glancing at me when he speaks, but his eyes are slowly and inevitably dragged back to the suspended glob of material in front of him.
"Anything you want..." he softly murmures, lost in thought.
"Get to work."
"At once."
/
Over the next few days I made sure to keep an eye on my two new probationary additions to the Think Tank (only after a grace period of about a month during which Phineas would keep a close eye on them to ensure their loyalty would they be given the Brain Booster and become full-fledged members), as well as monitor the going ons of the rest of Othrys' inhabitants as well as the more notable persons in the outside world.
As I was waiting for both T'Challa to come through with his part of our deal (by all appearances he indeed seemed to try and do so instead of trying to betray me, though I had left him with a slightly larger mess than I had at first anticipated) and for Jess to finally reach Hong Kong (she had briefly been spotted crossing the border between Birma and Laos which put her very close indeed) I caught a few particularly intriguing going ons.
The first was the fact that Bucky had been sneaking out.
He had apparently found my Hangar and had taken a modified jet ski (better handling, higher top speed, virtually silent) to travel to the mainland. Following him had been a piece of cake when I alerted Phineas to it, though the man was doing an admirable job of staying aware of all surveillance equipment littering the city and doing his best to stay out of view from as many as possible.
Impressive but ultimately useless, as I wasn't tracking him through the city's CCTV network (though I certainly could have) but instead through several bugs hidden on his clothes and even his hair.
As skilled as he was, he was still a soldier from the '40s and was only sporadically updated on the level of technology he would be facing whenever Hydra let him out of his tank and those briefs were, well… brief. Only the bare-bone basics of what sort of equipment his targets had access to for which he would have to account and circumvent.
Fortunately for me, those briefs had never included nano technology.
As such, it was a breeze to simply sit at my desk in Othrys and watch his progress across a virtual map displayed on the augmented reality screen in front of me. If he were to make contact with the Avengers or a newspaper or something (though I highly doubted that was the case) I could be there in an instant to sweep him up and throw him back into Othrys again.
I wasn't usually this paranoid where my employees were concerned (I had even dropped Peter off at the cemetery back in St. Charles, Missouri and let him have some alone time for the rest of the day on his subdued request shortly after we had returned to Earth) but Bucky's strong relationship with Steve made me antsy. Steve was the heart of the Avengers, but more importantly its moral centre as well. If he discovers Bucky is alive he might just decide that his brother needs to be 'saved' from me and that's a whole can of worms that I don't wanna open right now.
I'll wait until Hall's side project that I put him on has been put in place (it shouldn't take long now, most of the heavy lifting had been done while he had still been dragging his feet), but until then Bucky has to accept that anonymity is his greatest defense right now.
Thankfully, all my worries were for nothing, as all Bucky did was go and stare at Avengers tower from a safe distance for several hours before turning around and coming back. Or, that had been his plan at least, but on the second night he did his whole silent guardian routine, a truly excessive amount of rain had caused the aged supersoldier to seek shelter in a nearby bar.
Seeing the large black man with a deep voice and a quick smile stand proudly behind the counter caused a small smile to form on my own face as well. It was good to see that Carl Lucas had made it out of his personal hellhole despite the changes I had made.
In fact, with Killmonger dead it's unlikely that Reva (who was waiting tables with a contented smile) would die this time around. It's a small miracle that the two of them made it through Hell Week together, though I suppose having unbreakable skin could only come in handy during a demonic invasion.
The unbreakable superhuman (actually, I wasn't sure if that was true now that I had taken Burstein away before the procedure could start) clearly recognized what kind of customer had just walked into his bar, setting down a tall beer in front of the supersoldier and leaving him be for the most part.
Due to the late hour and people still trying to recover from the trauma from Hell Week, the bar was nearly empty with only half a dozen people scattered across its tables and booths, though Carl didn't particularly seem to mind. The atmosphere was quiet and somewhat melancholy, but with underlying tones of contentment.
The only other person sitting at the counter however was what made me sit up straighter in my luxurious office chair.
Like Bucky she was wearing a dull colored jacket over a simple hoodie with a baseball cap planted firmly on her head. Like him, she was mostly just nursing her drink in silence. The two exchanged a cordial nod but hadn't really picked up a conversation.
Over in a corner, a TV was showing the news report of some channel that I couldn't be bothered to learn the name of. What they were showing was (again) footage of the confrontation between me and Captain Marvel that Phineas had uploaded to the internet, more specifically the moment that the both of us powered up into our respective Super Saiyan modes, which was quickly followed by me punching her across the Atlantic by thinking with portals.
The woman couldn't contain a derisive snort as she shook her head, before taking a deep gulp of her beer, which grabbed the attention of Bucky, who glanced between the woman and the TV for a moment, before speaking up.
"Not a fan?"
The woman looked briefly surprised at being addressed, before she settled down, giving a half-hearted shrug.
"Meh, you've seen it once, you've seen it a thousand times. Wish everyone would just… move on. Stop putting that as-... putting that guy in the spotlight all the time." Carol Danvers said sourly, and Bucky gave her another long, considering look.
Seeing this, Carol straightened somewhat, extending her hand and looking the supersoldier straight in the eye. Or trying to at least, the baseball caps made the whole thing somewhat difficult to pull off.
"Sorry, didn't get your name there?" she says, almost challengingly, as if she recognizes a fellow person who'd rather keep to their anonymity and solitude.
Bucky doesn't even hesitate however, clasping her hand with an apparent ease, as if mentally flipping a switch and going into work mode. He had been a special ops soldier during the war and a killing machine for decades under Hydra, but he was also an elite operative of a shadow organization and had been trained excessively in more than just combat, including stealth.
So it was with a calm, steady voice that he answered the sudden question.
"John."
Something like amusement flitted over the parts of Carol's face that were visible, and the challenge in her tone became slightly more obvious, though it was lighter than before as well.
"Smith, I presume?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, calling him out on the obviously fake name.
Instead of panicking at being caught out, Bucky replied with a smoothness that I thought had been lost forever after he fell of that train, shrugging slightly as he responded.
"If you want me to be."
Carol let out a snort at that, though I didn't miss the way that her eyes lingered somewhat longer on Bucky's arms and strong jawline than was strictly appropriate (and neither had Bucky himself).
"And you?" the supersoldier responded, and Carol's grin became just a tad wider.
"Jane."
"What a coincidence." Bucky softly murmured, and both soldier shared a secretive smile before going back to their beers, not breaking eye contact.
Meanwhile in the background, Carl was looking on out of the corner of his eyes as he wiped down a glass, slightly shaking his head and muttering "white folk" under his breath.
From then on, both soldiers had kept talking through the night, even when all other patrons had left and Carl had been rather loudly clearing his throat and looking at his wrist (which didn't even have a watch on it).
By some unspoken agreement they had kept returning to the bar every single night since and Carl had by now thrown his hands in the air out of frustration and resolved himself to having to kick them out each night until they finally admitted to themselves that they were attracted to each other (Reva seemed to think it was adorable though).
Not that I saw that happening anytime soon, considering how broken the people involved were, but it was precisely that which had allowed them to connect as they had, somehow recognizing it in the other even if they never openly discussed it.
They still went by John and Jane, even if I was fairly certain that both were probably aware of the other's real identity, and had confirmed that they had both served though they had been intentionally vague on what capacity and had offered no further information.
It was simply two people hurting who had found a great listening partner, someone who understood and didn't ask too many questions.
While there was the risk of Carol telling Peggy or Steve about Bucky's existence, I felt it unlikely, as that would be a huge betrayal of trust between her and her new friend and I didn't think she'd throw it away just like that, not now that she had so little else in her life. Honestly, I was just happy for the two of them.
They deserve at least a little bit of happiness in their life, and if they got that from sharing a couple of drinks with a kind and understanding stranger, then I wouldn't get in the way of it, as long as Bucky would step up to become the next Ghost Rider as he had promised.
The second thing of note was that Natasha Romanov had been revived from the dead.
Fury had used the Kree corpse, using the same methods as he would have used on Coulson in the canon timeline and almost had been forced to do in this timeline as well. Having a little over a foot long Asgardian blade shoved into your gut by a Frost Giant isn't something you just walk off after all.
He had been stabilized by something that I had briefly considered confronting Fury over, but had ultimately decided to let go: a vial of amber glowing liquid which had caused rapid cellular repair and division when it had been applied to Coulson's wound through a syringe.
The bleeding had stopped in minutes and the wound was completely scabbed over within the hour. It had taken Coulson the better part of two weeks with plenty of bed rest but the serum had allowed him to heal almost completely from the grievous wound Loki had given him, to the point only a thin, barely visible scar remained.
My first thought had been that Fury had gotten his hands on Extremis and if that had been the case I certainly would have confronted the Director on it, but the truth was somewhat less dramatic than that, if legally more ambiguous.
Apparently SHIELD somehow got wind of the 1% of the 1% in society having access to rejuvenating serums courtesy of Othrys and had managed to get their hands on one of my vials containing my Fountain of Youth.
They had tried to reverse engineer it, focusing on how it rapidly repaired damage on a cellular level and had eventually come up with something remarkably close to medigel. By injecting it directly into a wound, it would massively aid the body in sealing it up and healing it, though their research also noted that injecting it in healthy tissue would most likely result in super-cancer rapidly forming.
It said a lot about SHIELD that this had been labeled in the 'Combat Applications' tab, rather than in the 'General Medical Concerns' one.
As it was, nothing they had managed to get from my vial of Fountain of Youth had the capability of bringing Natasha back to life so Fury had had no choice but turn towards the Kree corpse.
The procedure had been successful to a point: Natasha Romanov was once again living and breathing, but there was very little doubt in my mind that the mental damage that had plagued Coulson would eventually start haunting her as well.
And she had a lot more fucked up shit in that brain of hers than Coulson's ever did, so the effects might end up being far worse.
Thankfully, though Fury had tried to keep it on the down-low, Barton had managed to track down where his partner was being held and busted her out of there, taking her back to Avengers tower with him.
While the other Avengers were of course ecstatic to have their teammate returned to them, they also understood the ramifications of what would happen when they revealed her survival to the general populace, so it was decided that they'd keep Natasha's survival a secret for now.
Not wanting her cooped up in a Tower all day long, Barton had taken her back to his family's house where she was now convalescing in relative peace and quiet, safe from the rest of the world. Barton knew what to look out for and if the Words of Creation imbedded in the Kree DNA started messing with Natasha's mind, then he'd know to contact me.
Additionally, I was also keeping an eye on the house through Phineas, who had hitched a ride in the Quinjet that Hawkeye had used to travel there, uploading its travel logs to Othrys before Clint wiped them clean and subsequently sending a small legion of nanites to infest the Barton household for their own safety.
It was when I was staring at a feed showing a smiling Natasha enthusiastically coloring in a drawing with Cooper and Lila that Phineas alerted me that T'Challa had finished getting together the Vibranium I had demanded and was waiting for me to discuss how we would transfer it from Wakanda to Othrys.
I was honestly somewhat surprised: a percentage worth of Wakanda's readily available stores was still well over 5000 kilograms of the stuff and to get it all together and packed up ready for shipping in such short order was no mean feat.
Deciding to be somewhat mischievous about it all (because after all why the fuck not), I asked Phineas for eyes on the prince and the cache and immediately a wide screen popped up in front of me, showing T'Challa and a contingent of Dora Milaje standing in a spacious hall, almost like a hangar of sorts. The King of Wakanda was standing in front of half a dozen enormous containers, similar to what they used on those underground trains of theirs, with the Dora Milaje surrounding them, with their eyes peeled.
T'Challa tried to portray an aura of calm and self-assuredness, and to an extent he succeeded. The Dora Milaje were very obviously tense and nervous however, and for good reason I suppose. Twice now they had failed utterly because of me, and even if they weren't really that upset about failing the second King to die due to my actions, that still stung on a professional level.
They certainly didn't like the prospect of their new King meeting with the same guy that had been responsible for the death of the previous two, especially now that they clearly knew just how spectacularly little there was that they could do to keep T'Challa safe from me.
The butts of their spears were still resting on the ground, but their hands were wrapped tightly around the shafts and I could tell by their posture that all of them were ready to jump into action at a moment's notice.
Looking them over, I realized what had been nagging at me when I first saw them: Okoye wasn't among them.
I guess she had been a bit too vocal in opposing Erik's rule.
Putting it out of my mind, I check briefly within Othrys itself to make sure that the intended storage room is empty, before taking greater care than usual in forming an immensely wide portal. By focusing on the intended 'exit' point and firmly planting the view of the Wakandan hangar in my mind, I call the dimensional tear into existence… right underneath the crates of Vibranium.
Inertia immediately kicks in and without warning the half dozen containers seemingly slip through the floor, the portal immediately closing right behind them. As the Dora Milaje give alarmed shouts, levelling their spears and glancing around them with wild eyes, I open up a much, much smaller portal, which springs into existence right behind the shocked looking T'Challa, who has whirled around in response to the alarmed shouts of his bodyguards, staring in absolute bafflement at the pristine and empty floor in front of him.
Sticking just my head through (making sure that the portals edges are far enough away I won't accidentally chop off an ear or something) as if I were some demented genie, I pipe up in a purposefully annoying tone of voice.
"Thanks for that!"
Without warning, T'Challa immediately whirls around on pure reflex, sending a picture perfect jab careening straight into my face, which of course does absolutely nothing at all to me.
Him on the other hand? He quickly clasps his hands at the small of his back again, posture rigid and his lips pressed together tightly as he slightly rocks back on the balls of his feet, his expression carefully blank as he stares at my floating head.
Honestly, he reminds me of Peter Sellers in that instance.
My grin widens until it's almost wolfish, sending him a wink before I pull my head back and allow the mini-portal to slip shut. Checking over the feed coming from my storage rooms I nod in satisfaction when I see that all containers have made it across safely.
Now then, for my next step-
My thought process is interrupted my a hologram of Phineas appearing above my desk. The fact that his body is his own instead of a Kevin Sorbo duplicate tells me that he has some serious news for me and he doesn't disappoint, explaining before I can even ask him what's going on.
"Jess has been spotted. She's in Hong Kong. She's close to Murakami's base."
Well then. Seems like I'm about to pay a visit to the Fragrant Harbor.
/
Fun Fact: The Thing cannot be beaten. The Beyonder once challenged him to a fight, which on paper Ben Grimm should've lost, as the Beyonder is stupidly powerful beyond comprehension. And indeed, the fight between the two resulted in The Thing getting the everloving shit kicked out of him. But no matter what the Beyonder tried, no matter how much force he put behind his punches or how much vitriol in his words, The Thing refused to stay down. No matter how brutal the fight got, he always got back up again. Eventually, the Beyonder conceded that, short of disintegrating The Thing on a molecular level, he would never be able to defeat him as he simply wouldn't accept defeat. Which means Ben Grimm's sheer willpower is stronger than even cosmic beings. Bad. Ass.
AN 2: This took a wholly unexpected turn. Originally, I had T'Challa being shipped off to Kamar Taj to cool off and find inner peace, Michael would travel to put the boot on Erik's neck and there he would confront the true nature of Bast, Vibranium and why Wakanda jumped from the Stone Age all the way to the Industrial Stage while skipping some crucial steps in between. The clue for that whole explanation is hinted at in this chapter, so I wonder if someone will spot it. I also put in a clue for what the mystery project is that Michael has Hall working on, which is a little bit more obvious I think. But yeah, instead Michael and T'Challa somehow ended up talking and then T'Challa came up with a solution that I hadn't thought off. I'm sorry this is just more filler, but now we'll finally be able to get back into the action with Michael going off to join Jess and Susan in stomping out the remains of the Hand. Hope you enjoyed the chapter nonetheless and please let me know what you thought about it! Stay safe and cheers!
Now, more than ever, do I wish to express my oceans' worth of thanks to the absolute madlads that choose to support me financially: Kyler Little, Justlovereadin, Daniel Dorfman, Doctor Tortoise, DavidJ, Carn Krauss, ReaperScythe, RC Oprea, Kyle Reese, Christopher Harris, Josh Tucker, RLStrained, Vu, Roman Krupkin. Thank you all so much! ^^