Chapter 25: Chapter 25
Thanks to the Net, I was able to sense the energy, and once that happened, manipulating it became much easier.
Shaping this energy stream, holding it, and determining its direction felt like a dance, where every movement, every step was pre-planned and executed with flawless precision.
BAM
The energy beam, released from my weapon, pierced through the air, cutting through Namor's body with surprising ease, as if he were a mere shadow rather than the mighty ruler of the seas. The water behind him parted before the power of the beam, like the Red Sea before Moses, leaving behind only emptiness and a trail of destruction.
"Khah!" Namor coughed, his eyes filled with disbelief and pain as he focused on his abdomen, now marred by a hole disrupting the integrity of his powerful body.
"Thank Fury," I said, my words sounding like a verdict as I watched Namor's eyes slowly close, seemingly refusing to accept their fate.
Indeed, Nick Fury had asked me to keep Namor alive, insisting that his place was behind bars, not in a grave. According to my one-eyed friend, Namor would be imprisoned for many years.
"B-Bastard..." Namor's last words were whispered through pain before darkness enveloped his consciousness, rendering him unconscious.
Anticipating questions and doubts from my teammates, I noted, "He will live. I aimed to incapacitate, not kill him."
These words brought relief to Sue and Ben, while Johnny, descending from the sky, couldn't hide his surprise.
"Didn't think Magneto could do that. Reed, are you sure you got his powers?"
Johnny and Ben were unaware of our battle with Magneto, where he had demonstrated exactly such abilities.
The research on Max Eisenhardt's X-gene, known as Magneto, had been my secret project, known only to a select few. I explained that this was done to ensure we had enough power for the next encounter with such threats.
"The thing is, I managed to harness incredible energy to create what I did," I replied, feeling the Net's energy completely drained. "Magneto can do similar things without any problems."
The prospects made Johnny shudder.
"I wouldn't want to go through that again," Sue said dryly.
Hugging her shoulder, I tried to convey all the support and confidence I could muster.
"I promise you, it won't happen again," my words were not just a promise but a vow, given not only to her but also to myself, a vow to protect our world and those who live in it from any threats.
Burying her face in my chest, Sue whispered back, "I believe you."
Those three words sounded like a ray of light piercing through the clouds, a reminder that despite all the difficulties and trials, faith and love can overcome anything.
Ben and Johnny stood beside us, watching with warm smiles.
However, this moment of peace and unity was short-lived. I sensed the approach of a dozen armed individuals moving in our direction. These were SHIELD agents, arriving to take Namor, who was still unconscious.
Leading the group was their director, Nicholas Joseph Fury, or rather, his puppet. Fury's single eye fell on Namor, now bearing an unnatural hole, and his brow raised at the sight.
"He's alive," I said. "And he will survive."
Fury appraised me and, smirking, said, "I'll take your word for it, Dr. Richards."
He then looked at his subordinates and added, "Take him."
SHIELD agents, with their characteristic efficiency and precision, embodied discipline and professionalism. Their movements were coordinated and exact, like a well-oiled machine operating with remarkable synchronicity. Namor's hands, feet, and neck were shackled with devices that left him no chance of escape, demonstrating that SHIELD had extensive experience handling superhumans whose power required special measures.
However, my attention was drawn to something else — the collar around Namor's neck.
This item stood out with its uniqueness and the intentions behind its creation. Upon closer inspection, I realized its purpose: X-gene suppression. It was a technological marvel, capable of changing the rules of dealing with mutants, and the fact that SHIELD had such technology was concerning.
In my own research, I had long since developed a similar device, but seeing it confirmed that my technology was not the only one of its kind.
The collar suppressed the X-gene. While my technology surpassed what SHIELD had, still...
"Thank you for your help, Dr. Richards," Fury's voice was firm and sincere.
He extended his hand for a handshake, symbolizing not only gratitude but also recognition of our contribution to the cause. "Without you and your team, this wouldn't have ended so smoothly."
I shook his hand and said, "I hope he will remain behind bars for the rest of his days?"
Fury looked at me. Now that I knew he was a puppet of the real Fury, I began to notice the details...
Those glassy, almost motionless eyes betrayed him for a split second, giving his entire figure a touch of carefully crafted masquerade.
"Of course, Dr. Richards," Fury said. "There is no other way."
"That's all I wanted to hear from you."
Fury nodded and, bidding farewell, left with Namor. The Fantastic Four and I gathered our equipment and waited for the Fantasticar, which the autopilot had parked nearby.
"What's bugging you, Stretch?" Ben asked me.
My rocky friend, like the rest of the team, knew me inside out.
"Is it that obvious?"
"No," Johnny shook his head with a slight smile. "But I remember you having that look only at certain moments. What-AUCH!"
Johnny received a slap from his sister, who said, "My brother means that you rarely have that look."
I sighed but eventually said, "I have a bad feeling about Namor."
"What do you mean?" Sue asked, her eyes puzzled.
I understood why my words seemed strange. From their perspective, the issue of Namor shouldn't arise again since SHIELD had taken him...
"Let's just call it my paranoia," I said, deciding not to dwell on the matter for now.
—\\—
"What's everyone having?" I asked my team.
In that moment, standing before the choice of dinner, I felt a lightness after the tension of the battle. The decision to return home and order food seemed like the perfect way to recharge and strengthen the team's spirit.
"Mexican or Italian?" Ben asked Alicia with his usual easy confidence and warmth. His voice filled the room with anticipation, creating a friendly competition between culinary traditions.
Alicia Masters, with a slight contemplation as if weighing all the flavors of the world, replied, "Let's go with Mexican."
Ben, smiling as if he had just gifted her the world of flavors, exclaimed cheerfully, "You heard the lady."
Internally noting Ben and Alicia's choice for Mexican cuisine, I pictured their dinner—enchiladas wrapped in soft corn tortillas, filled with juicy meat and generously covered in aromatic sauce, likely their choice based on past preferences.
Johnny, meanwhile, had gone on a date with his girlfriend. At least that's what he told us.
Then my gaze fell on Sue, who was immersed in her discoveries, working on documentation. Her dedication to science and research always inspired admiration in me.
"I'd like Pho," her soft, thoughtful voice sounded like music, inviting us to momentarily escape reality and imagine the warm, flavorful Vietnamese soup, where delicate notes of spices and freshness intertwined.
"Got it," I nodded, locking in our family dinner in my thoughts before finalizing the order. This evening promised to be filled with warmth, world flavors, and a sense of renewal after the trials we had faced, surrounded by those who were more than just friends or a team to me.
—= Johnny Storm =—
"...That's how our team handled Namor McKenzie," the blonde finished his story, his eyes shining with pride and unmistakable excitement. His lively, energetic gaze rested on his date's face, sparkling with amazement and admiration.
They were in an upscale restaurant Johnny had reserved through his connections and reputation as a member of the famous Fantastic Four. The air was filled with the aromas of exquisite dishes and light music, adding a special charm to their meeting. The candlelight on the table and soft lighting created an atmosphere of coziness and warmth, making the evening truly unforgettable.
The girl couldn't suppress a gentle smile that blossomed on her face as she listened to Johnny. This smile reflected not only her pleasure from the story of her hero's adventures but also Johnny's unique talent for storytelling, bringing his tales to life. His words were full of humor and liveliness, making each moment of the story burst into vivid colors in the listener's imagination.
The soft glow of the lamps illuminated their table, creating a halo around the couple, setting them apart from the rest of the world. Waiters passed by, carrying dishes that were not just food but culinary masterpieces, adding to the sense of exclusivity and sophistication.
This evening in the upscale restaurant, filled with tales of heroic exploits and the magic of each other's presence, not only deepened the bond between them but also reminded them that behind every feat lies real emotions, dreams, and aspirations.
After gazing at the lovely smile on her face, Johnny dared to say, "Tell me about yourself. As I understand it, you're not from around here?"
Crystal's smile tightened for a moment.
"Am I right that you're from Europe?"
After Johnny spoke, the tension eased, and she replied, "Yes, I'm from Norway..."
Inwardly, Crystal cursed herself for having to lie to Johnny...
—= Namor McKenzie =—
The King of Atlantis regained consciousness, engulfed by a wave of excruciating pain that washed over his body with unfamiliar intensity. This was something entirely new for Namor McKenzie, the great and powerful ruler of the seas, who had until now considered himself invincible. Pain was a cruel teacher, revealing unknown pages of sensory experience.
"Welcome back, Mr. McKenzie," a voice dripping with irony and cold disdain reached his ears. The voice sounded hauntingly familiar, like an echo from a distant past, bringing Namor back to long-forgotten memories.
Straining forward, trying to focus through the veil of pain, Namor's gaze fell on the source of the sound. There stood Fury, whose figure, despite the passing years, remained steadfast and commanding.
"Fury," Namor muttered, his voice sharp and pained. "I thought you had aged and died long ago."
Despite the circumstances of their meeting, moments of their shared past surfaced, when, as captain of the Howling Commandos, Fury and Namor had shared the hardships of war, fighting side by side against common foes.
"I'm glad to see you too," Fury replied, his voice calm and assured, his face showing no change, as if carved from stone. "Since you're awake, I think it's time I explain your current status."
Looking around, Namor realized he wasn't just being held in this grim place; his strength was bound by shackles, depriving him of his power. The metal collar around his neck and the cuffs on his wrists symbolized his complete helplessness in this situation.
In that moment, Namor remembered everything that had happened to him, and the fury in his eyes intensified severalfold.
"I can see by your eyes that what I'm about to say won't make you happy..."
Judging by the gritting of the King of Atlantis's teeth, Fury was right in his assumptions.
—= Reed Richards =—
First and foremost, I decided to check SHIELD's databases. I needed to understand how SHIELD had acquired such advanced weaponry.
"Hmm..." My gaze slid across the screen, analyzing the information that unfolded before me. The structure of SHIELD's database protection had undergone significant changes, forcing me to adapt my methods and once again penetrate their defense system. It was like a chess game, where each move required a new strategy and anticipation of the opponent's next steps.
"Now let's see... I see," I muttered as the coveted information finally appeared before my eyes. It soon became clear how SHIELD had acquired this cutting-edge technology. The source of this technological marvel was a mutant named Forge, whose unique technopathy ability allowed him not only to "hear" technology but also to create things that seemed miraculous even to the most advanced minds.
Forge's power turned him into a living bridge between the world of technology and humanity, allowing him to bring the boldest ideas and concepts to life. The fact that SHIELD had managed to persuade or force him to work for them opened new horizons for the organization in terms of armament and defense.
Soon, all of SHIELD's developments were in my hands again, and I said, "Chronos, what happened while I was gone?"
"There was an explosion at Oscorp."
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Arcane_Eso
Arcane_Eso Stones for the God of Stones! Souls for the Throne of Souls!
Chapter 26: Chapter 26
After Chronos's words, I immediately began analyzing the data collected by my backdoors in the Oscorp system, and what I saw took even me by surprise.
"Of course, it had to be this version of Norman..." I muttered under my breath, watching the horrifying footage where the Green Goblin, like an envoy from hell, slaughtered the entire staff without a trace of remorse or compassion.
His claws, like curved blades thirsting for blood, teeth resembling spears designed to tear flesh, and eyes burning with madness, filled the soul with chilling terror. The scene indeed painted a grim and terrifying picture, as if it had emerged from the darkest corners of human nightmares.
The Green Goblin in this universe resembled his counterpart from the well-known Earth-1610, where every action was shrouded in terrifying power and madness. Using fire as his weapon, he announced another, even more frightening ability — incredible regeneration, close to immortality, making him not only terrifying but also nearly invincible.
Without a shadow of doubt and with ease, as if strolling through a familiar park, I reached the OZ serum, the very key to unraveling this web of mysteries and horrors. My mind already began working on solving the problem, like an ancient mechanism awakened from slumber.
"Chronos, show me the DNA sample of Norman Osborn exposed to the OZ serum," I commanded, full of determination and persistence.
"Executing, Dr. Richards," responded my AI, its voice filled with loyalty and artificial calm that instilled confidence in me.
And there before my eyes, like on a magical screen, information about Norman Osborn flashed, revealing his essence in minute detail.
"Hmm..." Despite all my preparation and experience, I couldn't hide my inner turmoil at the realization of the colossal task ahead.
This was a sign for me to stop watching the news and dive into the heart of the events.
"What else has happened here?" My question to Chronos was filled with anticipation of new discoveries.
My intuition suggested that the appearance of the Green Goblin inevitably heralded the arrival of his eternal adversary — Spider-Man.
"A hero named Spider-Man has appeared in the city, and thanks to the cameras, I discovered that under the mask is a schoolboy named Peter Parker," reported Chronos, fueling my curiosity.
"Is that all?" My question sounded more like a plea for a break in this marathon of revelations.
"Hell's Kitchen remains stable," Chronos's response was a balm for the soul, indicating that Daredevil, also known as Matt Murdock, continued his work as usual, protecting the city from the shadows of the night.
"I also detected suspicious financial movements by Victor von Doom," added Chronos, reminding me that the peace was only fleeting.
"Let's take a look at that..." I sighed heavily, already feeling the weight of upcoming challenges.
And so, a new chapter of this epic unfolded before me:
—= Peter Parker =—
"Damn it!" The sudden cry shattered the silence, coming from a man in military attire with the ability to generate electrical blasts. His eyes were full of despair and rage as he met the gaze of Peter Benjamin Parker, also known as Spider-Man, who at that moment was like the embodiment of a relentless, powerful force.
After Uncle Ben's death, Peter devoted more and more of himself to being Spider-Man, finding his purpose and salvation in it.
"Hey, Shocker! Have you ever tried charging your gloves with USB? Maybe then your punches would be faster because I have enough time to order pizza for next week while you're aiming!"
"DAMN BUG!" The man's furious roar echoed as he brandished his electrified gloves. In that instant, as sparks fell to the ground like a meteor shower, Spider-Man sprang into action.
BAM
The force of the punch, filled with justice, lifted Shocker's body a few meters into the air like a leaf caught in an autumn wind before it fell unconscious. For Peter, this moment was a reflection of his inner struggle as he was just beginning to master his newfound abilities. Control over his power didn't come immediately; every punch was a test of self-discipline, every fight a lesson in responsibility. Over time, he realized that his gift could be both a blessing and a curse, and that his full strength could lead to irreparable consequences.
"By the way, spiders aren't insects," Peter quipped, dispelling the tension of the moment with a playful tone. His voice carried irony, underscored by the ease of being Spider-Man, even in the face of danger.
Without wasting time, Parker felt the need to retreat immediately. The sound of approaching police sirens was as unyielding as their intent. The relationship between Spider-Man and the police always remained tenuous, balancing on the edge of mutual respect and suspicion.
Seeking solitude, Peter found refuge atop a gargoyle on one of the buildings, high above the city's hustle. From this height, New York spread out before him like an endless ocean of lights and life. The air seemed purer up here, and the world's problems less significant.
"Hmm, I should've gotten a milder taco..." Peter mumbled, chewing the last bits of his lunch. The casual mention of tacos added a light touch to the moment, reminding that even superheroes experience everyday inconveniences like everyone else.
—= Tony Stark =—
The hammer in Tony's hands felt like an extension of himself. The billionaire struck with enthusiasm, each blow filled with determination and hope, for this work was crucial not just for his fate but for that of his friend. Sparks flew in all directions, illuminating the dim space of the cave where Tony was forced to work.
Tony's gaze fell on the reactor in his chest. This marvel of technology not only kept him alive, preventing shrapnel from reaching his heart, but also symbolized his unyielding spirit and engineering genius. Its soft pulsing light was a constant reminder of the fragile boundary between life and death.
BAM
The hammer struck the sheet of metal again. Each blow brought Tony closer to his goal — creating something that would change everything. It needed to take the right shape, requiring not just physical strength but the intellectual finesse Tony Stark was known for worldwide.
"Ready..." Tony whispered as the metal piece finally took the desired shape. It was not just an engineering feat; it was the embodiment of his will to live, an iron will encased in steel.
At that moment, Tony began hearing approaching footsteps. He froze, setting the hammer aside. Time seemed to slow, waiting to see what would happen next.
"No time for tests," Tony said, looking at the person who had saved his life and become not just a comrade but a close friend whose trust and support were invaluable in these tough times.
Yinsen nodded, his gaze filled with determination. He started helping Tony don the armor, each piece not just a protection but a symbol of a new beginning for Stark. This process was filled with anticipation and tension, for it wasn't just a test of new technology but a step into the unknown that could change everything.
"TONY STARK!" the terrorist shouted, kicking the door open.
By that time, Tony was fully armored and ready to face his adversaries.
—\\—
"Thank you," Tony Stark nodded, gripping the juicy burger as if it were the most valuable trophy after weeks of deprivation.
The billionaire had recently made a daring escape from the clutches of terrorists who had captured him during a demonstration of his latest weapon. This shocking turn of events had dominated the news headlines, and reporters gathered eagerly at the airport, waiting to be the first to share his story with the world.
As Tony Stark stepped through the airport doors, it was immediately apparent that the ordeal had left its mark on him. His usually impeccable appearance was disheveled: his hair was a wild mess, his face was unshaven, adding to his look of exhaustion and weariness. His typically radiant skin was now dry and weathered, with dark circles under his eyes indicating sleepless nights and stress. His clothes were torn and dusty, as if he had spent the last days on the run rather than in the luxurious halls of his mansion.
He moved forward slowly, each step seeming like an effort, but in his eyes burned an unwavering determination. Stark didn't try to hide the signs of his captivity; instead, he wore them as medals of his resilience and strength of spirit. His gaze, though tired, still sparkled with the wit and intelligence that had made him a legend.
"I assume you're all aware of why I look so... less than my best?" Tony asked, tossing the last bite of his burger into his mouth. The question was rhetorical, given the extensive media coverage of his ordeal.
The reporters surrounding him nodded uncertainly, the atmosphere thick with tension and anticipation. Tony, noticing their reaction, smirked, his smile full of irony and meaning that only he fully understood.
"In that case, there's no point in dragging this out," he continued, his voice firm and resolute, as if he had made a decision that was not open for discussion.
"Stark Industries will no longer manufacture weapons."
Tony Stark's words struck like lightning. The room, filled with tense silence just a second before, erupted in questions and exclamations. Reporters, barely recovering from the shock, scrambled over each other to get a comment, to understand the reasons behind such a dramatic shift in policy from one of the largest players in the arms market.
"That's all," Tony Stark declared, stepping away from the microphones. His face showed determination and confidence in his decision. He paid no mind to the reporters' outcries, his steps directed towards a future where he envisioned himself and his company not as creators of weapons, but as pioneers of a new direction aimed at preserving and protecting life rather than destroying it.
—= Some Time Later =—
Sometime after Tony Stark, the billionaire genius inventor, announced his company's decision to cease weapons production, he found that the world continued to whirl in a vortex of events, giving him no chance to pause and catch his breath. Within his tower, which served as his home, workshop, testing ground, and incubator for innovations, Tony embarked on the next phase of his journey.
"Jarvis, show me information on superheroes," he said, deep in thought. Everything he had learned during his enforced absence pointed to the idea that the world needed not just new technologies but new heroes.
The AI, created by Tony, responded instantly, filling the screens in his lab with information about superheroes who had become symbols of hope and justice. Articles, battle footage, interviews, and analytical reports on the activities of these extraordinary individuals flashed before Tony's eyes, igniting his imagination and passion for innovation.
"The Fantastic Four, Spider-Man, Daredevil, the X-Men..."
Tony sifted through the names, each associated with stories of courage, sacrifice, and the fight for higher ideals. These individuals, so different yet united by a common goal — the protection of the innocent and the fight against evil...
His gaze lingered on the screen, where scenes of epic battles and heroic deeds played out. Tony pondered, imagining himself as someone who could contribute to this fight. He was a genius, a billionaire, a playboy, a philanthropist... but could he be a hero? Not one who created weapons, but one who used them for good.
"Jarvis, initiate Project 'Iron Man'," Tony declared decisively.
—= Reed Richards =—
"And what did I expect?" the thought flashed through my mind as I finally unraveled the scale and direction of Victor von Doom's financial flows. By tracing each of these channels, I was able to construct a complete picture of his operations, which unfolded before me, leaving little doubt about his intentions.
On my screens, schematics, blueprints, and financial reports flashed, coming together to reveal Victor's ambitions. Before me was the blueprint of a Doombot...
Doombots, despite their complexity and autonomy, were not the main threat. They could spy, fight, and even make decisions based on artificial intelligence, but they were merely extensions of the will and mind of their creator. The problem was Victor von Doom himself — a man who embodied not only a brilliant intellect but also unrelenting persistence and a desire for power. He was the epitome of that unyielding will to victory that could overcome any obstacle in pursuit of his ambitions.
When I say any obstacle, it's no exaggeration, as this man was one of the few who managed to escape from Hell, attain the power of a god, and create his own world.
I needed to quickly address the issue with magic because Victor was far ahead of me in that regard.
"Chronos, begin the development of the anti-OZ serum."
—= Some Time Later =—
Using every available moment within the dome, I tirelessly worked on refining my newfound abilities. These long hours, days, months, and years of experiments and training allowed me to reach a new level of control over one of the fundamental forces of the universe.
Now I could use this power not only for complex tasks or in battles but also for managing everyday affairs, adding a touch of magic to the mundane aspects of my existence.
My quest for knowledge did not stop at my own abilities. I also began a deep study of the X-gene of Charles Xavier and Jean Grey. This project was still in its early stages, but I was confident that the results were only a matter of time.
After a long period of isolation and intense work on myself and my projects, I felt it was time to move on to the next task.
"Chronos, restore the normal flow of time," I said, feeling my feet touch the ground.
"Done, Dr. Richards," Chronos announced.
I was headed to Kamar-Taj, or more precisely, to their sanctuary branch in New York.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS
Arcane_Eso
Arcane_Eso
Stones for the God of Stones! Souls for the Throne of Souls!
Weekly Power Status
200+ Power
Ranking 
5 Power
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