Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel
It has come a bit late, but RIP Stan Lee 28/12/1922-12/11/2018.
Marvellous World
Chapter 8: Saviour
Sven finally got a good look at the girl who had been trailing him. Sitting across from her, he could see the WDRA symbol on her hoodie. So either she was a fan who bought a hoodie online, or she was an agent. Removing her hood, she revealed her curly brown hair, which reached up to her neck. She was American, but there were subtle signs of her mixed Asian heritage. Looking at her hands touching her coffee cup, he saw her black gloves, but partially hidden by the sleeves was a pair of gauntlets.
"God, I can't tell you how much easier this feels now, and how awesome this is too," she said, exuding enthusiasm.
"Well it certainly is good to meet new people," Sven said, smiling himself.
"But we know each other, we've met before," she said.
"Have we?" Sven raised his eyebrows in confusion, sipping his tea.
"Yeah, man, it amazes me how much you look like your father."
Sven paused at that, leaning forward and looking at the girl.
"You knew my dad?" he asked.
"Knew him? We know each other Sven, although we only really met from a distance. Your dad and mine worked together," she said.
He continued to look at her in confusion. She slapped her forehead and laughed.
"I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself..."
"Daisy Coulson!"
Years ago she was a little girl, he was the little boy reading in his tree house. Slade Reilly picked up the daughter of fellow agent Phil Coulson, spun her around and roughed up her hair.
"Wow it's all over the place isn't it, you should have brought her round earlier Phil, how have you been?" Slade asked.
"Been great, Daisy, you know Sven's your age, how about you go and play with him," Phil gave her a little push, and she walked over to the tree house.
But she didn't climb up the ladder, instead she sat behind the tree and took out her phone. As she played games, the adults conversed at the barbecue Slade and his wife Lisa hosted. Their younger daughter Kate was holding Lisa's hand as she brought out one of the salads.
"Phil, great to see you, no wife yet?" she asked.
"No wife yet," Phil shrugged his shoulders, taking the salad and hugging her.
Sven remembered that day, looking at a few faces from the window. Phil Coulson, a numbers man from the agency. John Garret, a specialist who always smiled and laughed whenever Lisa scolded him. Ian Blake, an investigator who although seemed cold and distant always smiled for the children at least. Jasper Sitwell, plain looking but nice around people, an advisor and good at being a 'patsy' according to Slade. Melinda May, a specialist with a very sweet smile and laugh, Sven liked her and her husband. Then there was Arthur Caster, Slade's partner and best friend. He was at the barbecue, cooking the burgers and the kebabs. The brown haired man looked up at Sven, smiling as he waved to him.
Then he remembered the flames and rubble, the deaths caused by cataclysm. He remembered the numerous souls in need of saving, begging for someone to save them. But alas, he also remembered the bodies of those who weren't save. It was the cataclysm with but a single survivor. A boy who shouldn't have been able to be saved, but was. He remembered the face of Arthur Caster, looking down at him and smiling He remembered the tears that man shed and the thanks to god he gave. Something was started that day, and it began with a boy thinking:
'I want to be a hero too!'
'Hero,' Sven thought, looking at his hand.
Daisy too looked at him and noticed the calluses on it. The kind of scarring associated with fist fighters.
"What have you been doing Sven?" Daisy asked, leaning across the table and whispering to him. "As soon as you graduated from high school, you disappeared, a few part time jobs here and there and a visit to the hospital for what you had at the time described as a 'mutant attack'. Your arm had been broken and required severe surgery to repair the nerve damage, you were also put under psychiatric care for a time, you mother's ability as a guardian was put into question and..."
"My mom and sis hated me, they were never cruel enough to say it but I put them through that," Sven said, interrupting Daisy.
"Why did they hate you Sven, what did you do? What are you trying to do now?" Daisy asked.
Sven looked at Daisy, his gaze shifting to over her shoulder. He narrowed his eyes, seeing two others sitting behind them. One was looking over his shoulder.
"Just leave me alone all right, tell your dad I said hi though," he said.
He stood up and waved at the people sitting at the table.
"Better luck next time!"
The pair shook their heads, taking their ear pieces out as Sven walked past them.
Downtown New York
The X-men looked up at the new arrival, the robotic Sentinel. Named after the guardians of the citadel, it stood over the mutants and raised its hand.
"There's no mind behind it, that doesn't mean there isn't a consciousness controlling it from far away," Charles said.
"Or it could be operating under an advanced AI, that head certainly looks big enough to store a super computer?" Hank explained.
"You'd better diamond up again," Warren said to Emma.
"It drains my stamina, unless you want me turning into charcoal I won't be able to use my powers for a while," she retorted.
"Those gears on the legs look vulnerable," Bobby said.
He threw his hands forward, spraying an ice mist over the Sentinel's leg joints.
"Hostile action, engaging elimination protocols," the Sentinel said.
It fired a blast from its hand, and Hank dived at Bobby, knocking him out of the way. Beast then jumped up, carrying Bobby over his shoulder.
"The alloy they're using must be resistant to the cold," Hank noted, rebounding off of a fire escape and launching himself onto a rooftop.
Warren picked up Emma and flew upwards, Charles himself rolled between the Sentinel's legs, avoiding its hand. Despite disliking his wheelchair, he was well practiced at manoeuvring with it. His physiotherapist one suggested he try out for the Olympics, and though in the past Charles would have been for the idea, his mission was too great to allow for that kind of distraction.
'If only you could see me now Amelia,' he thought.
Turning the corner in the alleyway, Charles accessed the minds of others on the street. They were beginning to clear it, looking up at the robotic Sentinel and fearing the worst. It climbed onto the rooftops, chasing after Bobby and Hank. Beast jumped onto another rooftop, Bobby squealing in delight on his shoulder. The boy found the experience fun and even Hank had a smile on his face. Warren and Emma however were both much more serious, regarding the situation with the same caution Charles had seen during his days in the UN. Rolling onto the street until he became part of the crowd, Charles focused with his telepathy, broadened his range and searched for a blind spot.
'Such a machine would still require a crew to monitor it and conduct field repairs,' Charles thought.
He narrowed the search to an area his powers could not perceive. Not without 'hijacking' the eyes of passersby. A cargo truck, located roughly ten blocks away. Whatever alloys were used in its construction blocked Charles's powers. He could not determine what machines or crew inside the cargo area and there was no driver. Certain metals could block Charles's abilities.
"Angel, drop Emma into the streets and go to where I tell you, we may be able to disrupt the machine, Hank, Bobby, continue to distract it," Charles commanded with his telepathy.
"No problem there Prof," Bobby said, hitting the Sentinel in the face with another ice mist.
The Sentinel fired another blast, this time hitting the roof and dropping Beast and Iceman into the building. On the streets, Stryker slammed the door shut on his car, looking up at the Sentinel as it rammed its hand through the hole in the building it made.
"Damn it, what the hell is going on here, the Sentinel was not approved for deployment," he said.
Wraith and Maverick both exited the vehicle behind him and exchanged worried glances.
"We have mutant operatives on the field, I repeat we have mutant operatives on the field," Stryker shouted into his comm.
"Calm down Stryker, did you think I wouldn't include an IFF into my design?" a voice asked over the radio.
"Trask," Stryker snarled.
Inside the very truck Charles had identified a moment ago, a white haired man in a goatee stood with an MRD vest on his business clothes. He was looking through video feeds of the Sentinel, and at monitors showing the integrity of his creation.
"Anyone in an MRD uniform is exempt from the Sentinel's targeting systems," Trask said, pride in his voice.
Unknown to the great inventor though, Charles Xavier could 'hijack' more senses than eyesight. He turned into an alleyway, rolling until he reached a portion occupied by the homeless. Altering their perceptions to make himself look like one of them, Charles focused on contacting the X-men.
"Warren, a change of plans, go back to where we had our earlier battles," and an ally that Charles knew would come in handy. "Spider-man!"
"AGH!" Peter yelped in mid swing, falling onto a rooftop vent. "What? God is that you?"
"Spider-man, you may call me Professor X, my team and I will need your assistance, please listen carefully."
Tony Stark entered his run down motel room and looked at his flask. The motel was upmarket enough to fill the fridge with mini beer cans. He rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration, drink was not something he needed right now. Filling his flask with water, he took a few swigs. It still carried the taste and smell of vodka in it. He didn't bother cleaning it out because of those precious smidges of flavour that he savoured.
'Just a little bit won't hurt,' he thought.
He crashed his bottom onto the sofa, throwing his arms onto the back of it and leaning back. Beside him sat his 'last' invention. Soon he'd begin his plans for his future, his last bit of planning before he intended to stay out of the world's way. The suitcase was red, metallic and heavy, big enough to exercise Tony's arms, but not to strain in his heart. He rubbed the spot on his chest and reached for the TV remote.
"News just in, a fire started two hours ago in a building owned by the Hardy foundation, the cause is unknown but the fire itself has spread to several other buildings. Additional emergency services have however been delayed due to the MRD cordons set up in response to the mutant incident," Tony paid no attention to the mutant part.
His focus was on the Hardy building, he knew Anastasia Hardy. Stark industries had won the 'charitable organisation of the year' award (the true award was a name Tony never cared to remember at the time) over the much smaller Hardy foundation. Anastasia was rich enough to live the high life and pay her employees, and the foundation was big enough to known in science magazines, but hadn't released revolutionary patents like Stark I or Oscorp. Tony focused on the fire and the lives of citizens endangered by whatever shortcuts that Anastasia had probably taken (or to be fair hadn't known had been taken). He put on his suit case, pocketed his flask and picked up his suitcase. On his way to the door, he got a beer from the fridge. Leaving his key and cash payment at the front desk, he lightly jogged to the back of the motel. Pouring the contents of the can down his throat, Tony enjoyed the acidic sensation in his throat, the sweet taste and refreshment of his mouth. He tossed the can aside and held out his suitcase. The scanner in the handle read his palm and began the sequence.
The last creation, his greatest creation. It began to fold out of the suitcase, abandoning the handle, which Tony split into two, attaching each one to red bands on a pair of gloves. He inserted his hands into the gloves, then grabbed the main part of the suitcase. The front folded to reveal a glass circle on the chest and cargo pockets on the waist, and then the back expanded. Tony pushed the plate onto his chest and crotch, feeling the latches on his back fuse together. As this happened, metallic red boots slammed out of the case, each boot was either side of a helmet. Tony slid his feet into the boots, feeling them tighten around his shins. Gold pumps on the boots and gauntlets linked to pumps on his chest plate, enabling Tony to lift the heavy limbs, granting his exposed arms and legs some extra protection and increasing his strength. The arc reactor on his chest shined through the glass on his chest plate, powering the suit in its entirety. Magnets built into his finger tips reacted with the helmet between his feet, lifting it into his hands. The helmet was red, but the face plate was gold with slits for Tony's eyes and a mouth slit for him to breathe through. His last and greatest creation, the Iron man.
Rockets on his boots and backs ignited, allowing Tony to fly out of the neighbourhood. People looked up in wonder at the armoured hero Tony had become, ignorant to who was behind the mask. Tony revealed the Iron man was a company employee, a corporate bodyguard. It wasn't for any reason like protecting his loved ones from reprisal, but for himself. He wasn't looking for redemption, or to be called a hero. The world had falsely called him a patriot, awarding him with lifetime achievements, prizes he had given back after his experience in the desert. Within moments Tony reached the Hardy foundation fire.
'Identifying possible life sources,' he aimed his fingers at the buildings on fire.
One gauntlet held a motion tracked, the other a heart beat monitor. Linking a wire to his helmet, Tony determined from the heart beats a large number of survivors inside the building. He used the motion tracker to determine specific possible locations. Tony himself knew the type of buildings, he knew how much damage they could take. Flying straight through one of the buildings, he grabbed two people and flew them to the Ambulances.
"Officers, the west stairwell is the best possible place to access the building, some survivors are already exiting through that direction," he told one of the firemen.
Flying back into the building, Tony removed two devices from his belt, attached them to his gauntlets and then squeezed the handle triggers on them. Spinning in a wide arc, he fired a foam across the corridors. It suffocated the flames, and turned into a hard paste.
"Everyone, keep low and come out, go to the Western stairwell and do not stop to get anything," he broadcasted his voice with a speaker on his helmet, it also allowed him to distort his voice so that people wouldn't recognise him.
Iron man then flew out of the same window he had come through. A window would cost less than a roof that wasn't broken already. He planned each step, composed a rescue strategy, knowing the slightest miscalculation could get someone killed, or create more damages that would bankrupt some poor soul. Flying through another window, he opened a wardrobe, a hiding place for a couple kids. They were too young to be taught the dangers of hiding in such a place. Again Tony dropped them off at an ambulance and watched more fire fighters arrive. They were professionals, better trained than him, so Tony left them to it. He focused on the building they would let burn, the Hardy foundation building. It had insurance and there was no reason for the fire service to risk any lives. But Tony knew something they didn't, there was still someone in the building.
"HELP! HELP!" he could hear them as clear as day with his enhanced receiver.
Diving through the building, uncaring of the falling debris and the heat, he flew for the place the fire was at its hottest. It was also where the person was screaming. A young man, barely eighteen and screaming. Tony quickly noted the boy's skin pigmentation, bright orange, eyes clear. The young man was naked and frightened. Tony grabbed him, shielding him from the debris as he flew out of the building. The young man's temperature was still hot, and Tony could feel his skin heat up his armour. He dropped the young man on a nearby rooftop and sprayed him with extinguishing foam.
"Try to stay calm and tell me what happened," Tony said, looking at the young man.
He was probably just out of high school, far too young to get a job at the Hardy foundation. Tony landed by him, keeping his hands up diplomatically.
"It's all right kid, I'm not here to harm you," he said.
"Oh god, what did they do to me, what did they do?" the boy asked.
"Tell me your name kid, why were you here?" Iron man asked.
"Mark, my names Mark, I..." the boy never got to finish, as a disc shaped object slammed into his chest.
The young man screamed as electricity spread across his body. Tony traced the trajectory of the shot, just in time to dodge another projectile. It was an arrow, with the same kind of device attached to it that had latched onto Mark's chest. A type of EMP perhaps, suggested Mark's 'abilities' were related to tech. Perhaps nanites, though Tony knew of no kind of nanotech that was that advanced, that kind of tech was only possible in movies. After checking Mark's heart rate, Tony looked towards the rooftop opposite. No one was there, but to the right of that building stood a figure in dark clothing. They were dark purple, tactical clothing. The man wearing them had a tuft of blonde hair coming out of the top of his purple mask. Devices covered his ears, a form of hearing aid, and red lenses covered his eyes, to reduce glare. He had armoured padding on his wrist and knees and had his shoulders exposed. But it wasn't a rifle he was preparing, or even a pistol (Tony knew a few good long range pistols) but oddly a bow. The man had a quiver on his back and like Tony, a utility belt with devices he could put onto the arrow heads.
"Low tech huh? Easy to use and less likely to fail, I'm all for," Tony said.
The bowman quickly fired an arrow, ricocheting it off of a pipe and sending it flying towards Tony. He quickly dodged it, but as soon as Tony veered to the left, an arrow struck one of his leg motors, disrupting his connection to his boot. With his control momentarily lost, Tony slammed into the wall of the building opposite of the one Mark had landed on. The bowman began to tap the device on his ear.
"Acknowledged Hawkeye, moving in to secure asset," a voice spoke through his hearing aid.
Tony regained control of his boots and looked towards Mark. A woman in a black suit stood over the boy. She had covered her face with a black mask and a pair of goggles with three zooming lenses on them. A pair of devices consisting of multiple cartridges were wrapped around her wrists, and there was a type of red hour glass symbol on her belt buckle.
"Widow here, securing Molten man," the woman said, beginning to wrap a device around the young man's chest.
Iron man began flying towards her, arming his gauntlets with his repulsors. He fired a blast, but much to his shock the woman flipped, suddenly wrapping her legs around Tony's chest.
"Usually I buy dinner first," he quipped.
A blue light passed through the device on her wrist, before she stabbed it into Tony's neck. Tony gasped as it passed an electrical surge through his armour, and his heart. He fell to the floor, clinically dead. Widow stood over Tony's body, listening to her comm. as Hawkeye tapped his.
"You're right, the watcher might want him alive, " she activated her shock device again and struck Tony's chest plate.
It charged the armour, and restarted his heart. Tony gasped, regaining his bearings. He was still incapacitated, allowing Widow to activate the device on Mark's chest. A massive balloon expanded on the boy's chest, beginning to lift him off of the floor. Suddenly, a gunshot echoed in the neighbourhood, piercing through the balloon. In a building in the next block, an agent looked through the scope of his rifle.
"Ward here, I've prevented their extraction of the asset," the dark haired man said.
On the streets, amongst the emergency services, black government vehicles arrived. Garret of the WDRA stepped out of one of the vehicles and smirked.
"Our first team up with the Iron man, Ward, I'd pick up that rifle at get clear of that window now," the agent said.
"What? Are you worried about robin hood over there, his arrows won't reach me..." Ward screamed as an arrow flew into his shoulder, pinning him to the wall a foot away from him.
"Yeah, Barton's muscular arms aren't just for show, his bow isn't the average kind either. It takes immense strength to draw back that string, Tripplet, go and pick up agent dumbass, I'm moving to secure the target," Garret explained.
"Yes sir," another agent spoke over the radio.
Garret stretched his arms and then broke off into a run. Leaving a crack on the street, he jumped, high enough to dig his finger nails into the building and leap up onto the rooftop. Widow looked towards Garret, drawing a pair of pistols from her belt. She fired a flurry of bullets that Garret blocked with his hands. He moved towards Widow, attempting to punch her. As the woman rolled underneath his swing, he rolled out of the range of her attempted punch.
"Your little widows kiss won't work on me darlin," he taunted.
He tilted his head back, narrowly avoiding an arrow fired by Hawkeye. Recovering from his earlier attack, Iron man fired a repulsor and knocked Hawkeye onto his back.
"Nice shot, you ever think of switching to government work, the pensions worth it," Garret said.
"Sorry, but private is where the money is," Tony said.
He was still sweating underneath his helmet, but still able to put on some bravado. Garret attempted to strike Widow again, only for her to jump over him. Iron man fired a blast, hitting her in the chest and throwing her into Garret's arms.
"Caught myself a spider," Garret tilted his head in confusion for a moment. "You sure?" he seemed to be talking to someone. "Sorry about this lady, but I've got orders."
He began to tighten his grip, and Tony widened his eyes underneath his helmet. He could hear the woman's bone creaking. Garret was going to crush her. Tony was no stranger to bloodshed, he had thousands of deaths on his hands, and the handful of men he had personally killed himself. The woman had deliberately saved his life, that wasn't an action Tony was going to dismiss. Firing his repulsors, he knocked her and Garret back.
"Damn it, you really are an amateur," Garret growled.
Widow jumped off of the roof, firing a cable from her wrist and using it to swing onto the streets. She hit her belt buckle, suddenly disappearing.
"Light bending technology," Tony whistled in amazement.
"We have that and more at the WDRA," Garret huffed.
Tony turned to Mark as he heard the boy scream. He was gripping the sides of his head, rolling in agony as his skin began to glow again. Garret gulped before jumping off of the roof.
"YOU NEED TO GET CLEAR!" he yelled at Iron man.
Suddenly, the temperature around Mark increased, leading to combustion. He was knocked off of the roof, landing and burning a crater onto the road. Mark stepped out of the crater, his skin glowing orange and each step melting the road. Tony landed a few feet away from him, a crack across his helmet.
"Oh no," he was familiar with explosions, the chemical reactions and their early signs.
Mark's overall temperature was growing and would continue to grow. If Mark couldn't control himself, he could cause more than just a few building fires. A shadow suddenly appeared over Mark and the agents of the WRDA. Hawkeye narrowed his eyes at the object, tapping his comm. Behind him, X-51 watched and took a step forward, tempted to intervene.
"Remember my herald, we cannot interfere," Uatu's voice echoed in his mind.
The shadow had been followed by a light. A light that came from the gold armour of the being that Gary Stewarts had become. Behind him though were wings of darkness and blood, a parody of the purity his body was. He looked down at Mark, showing no sympathy for his fear.
"Your saviour has arrived," he proclaimed, before the darkness engulfed Mark.
Beast and Iceman were both kicking at the Sentinel's arm, desperately trying to slip out of its grip. Bobby fired more mist into the Sentinel's eyes. It disrupted its targeting systems, and obscured its gaze. This gave Hank and opening to jump off of the wall with all his strength, curling into a ball and slamming against the Sentinel's head. It knocked the robot back, making it stumble on the rooftops. Trask grit his teeth together in frustration and threw his arm forward.
"Just kill those mutants, worry about collateral damage later," he said.
"But sir, if the Sentinel program proves to be as dangerous to the public as mutants, we'll get shut down."
"Once the Sentinel's ability to kill mutants has been proven, it won't matter," Trask retorted.
He smirked in satisfaction as the Sentinel regained its eyesight, and looked down at Beast and Iceman. The Sentinel raised its hands, ready to blast them into oblivion. Trask's jaw dropped however, as a substance of some kind covered the Sentinel's main camera. Spider-man landed on the Sentinel's head, tapping it.
"Oh giant death robots just aren't what they used to be," he said, shaking his head. "Your boss man wanted you to have these, black isn't my colour anyway," he tossed to Beast and Iceman the objects that Xavier had asked him to retrieved.
Trask tapped his foot against the floor impatiently as the tech crews worked to regain control of the Sentinel. Using a few inputted commands, they had the Sentinel peel the webbing off of its face.
"Begin scanning for mutant activity," he commanded.
The Sentinel rotated its head, eyes and mouth blinking. Trask was surprised to see a no X-gene detection marker on Spider-man. The Sentinel left the masked vigilante be and continued the search for the mutant fugitives. There were two readings in the immediate area.
"What happened to the other two?" one of the crew asked, much to Trask's anger.
"Instead of asking obvious questions, FIND THE ANSWERS!" he yelled.
On the streets, Stryker watched four fully uniformed agents of the MRD walking past the cordons and smirked.
"Should we," Wraith began, but stopped as Stryker shook his head.
"If Trask wants to take over mutant response, then he can accept responsibility when mutants slip through our fingers. Besides, these people went out of their way to keep people safe. Right now at least, they aren't a threat...for now," Stryker emphasised and Wraith nodded his head in understanding.
Charles rolled down the street, taking a deep breath and sighing in relief. As he hoped, having his X-men put on MRD uniforms prevented them from being detected by the Sentinels. He had read certain details from Stryker's mind and believed that the soldier had allowed that information to be accessed. Will Stryker had a high resistance to telepathy, but Charles sensed at least good intentions from the man.
"Once you've reached a safe distance, abandon the uniforms, switch to your civilian clothes and meet at the safe house," Charles relayed to his X-men. "Sage, I'm going into telepathic silence, I suspect they may have found a way to track my psychic waves."
"As you wish Charles, I'll wait 2 hours before making telepathic contact again!"
Feeling his old student psychic presence leave him, Charles continued to roll across the street. He had borrowed the coat of a fellow veteran he met in the alleyway, no telepathic convincing required. It obscured his uniform and allowed him to roll across the street without harassment. Looking at the path ahead, Charles blinked and narrowed his eyes, focusing on a person he could see in the distance. The man was wearing a red turtle neck and a brown jacket that clung to his muscular frame. Leather gloves covered his hands, and a fedora partly covered his face. When Charles got close enough, he could see the spots of white hair on his head.
A scream alerted Charles and he turned his head, seeing pedestrians running as fast as they could. One knocked him off of his wheelchair, and it was then that Charles became aware of why they were running. The Sentinel landed on the street and began making its way towards Charles. It raised its hand, the circle on the palm of it glowing. Charles braced himself, afraid only of his mission ending before it could begin. Then he heard a deep vibrating sound, followed by the creek of metal. The Sentinel's hand was suddenly crushed, and the Sentinel stepped back. Slowly, its head began to shrink, like watching a can being crushed in slow motion. It was as if a hand had formed over the Sentinel's head and squeezed until it was crushed completely. Charles looked towards the stranger, and saw that the man had raised his hand and formed it into a fist. He offered that same hand to Charles and revealed his face, a few yours older than Charles, hardened, but with a kind smile. The face of a man Charles knew before, and even called brother.
"Hello, old friend," said Max 'Magnus' Eisenhardt.
Next Chapter 9: Darkness
Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, the debut of Iron man, Hawkeye and (obviously) Black Widow, as well as the reveal of Magneto.
Daisy Coulson: Daisy Johnson reimagined as the (adopted?) daughter of Phil Coulson, anyone who has watched the Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. series knows the dynamic between these two characters. Visually of course she looks like Chloe Bennet, the actress who portrays her in AOS. In fact the whole interaction between Sven and Daisy was inspired by Bennet's great enthusiastic performance in her first dialogue scene in the series. She's a young agent, but still a fan girl who knows the history of the agency she works for and the famous figures in it, one being Sven's father.
Iron man: I wanted to go with a modern twist on the third Iron man armour, the thick boots and gloves, the chest plate and helmet, with the gold hydraulics on the arms and legs invoking images of the gold limbs on the classic armour. The suitcase part and the sequence of course coming from my first introduction of the character during the 90s animated series.
Hawkeye: Went with the Ultimate masked look, which I thought was badass. Also drawing on certain modern comics I made him deaf. But drawing on the classic comics he has trick arrows, and using information provided by 'Deathbattle' I wanted it to be quite clear Hawkeye uses a bow and arrow in a way no one else could.
Black Widow: Going with a classic look, but less provocative, attractive still but more functional. The movement and fighting style being inspired by Scarlett Johansson's stunt work.
Max Eisenhardt: Going with the less recognised real name in the comics, the look of course being the classic images of the disguised Magneto from sources like the 90's animated series and the X-men Evolution series.
Saviour: Gary Stewart's transformed state comes from his great desire to be the hero, and his own view of himself as the hero of the story (you guys must of course figured out the joke behind his name) with the dark wings a hint of the evil that's manipulating him, visually they're like the kagune of Tokyo Ghoul which I always find visually stunning and frightening at the same time.
Next time Sven's search for answers brings him into the path of the Saviour and a moment that will define him. And Max and Charles stop for tea (no, seriously that's what they'll do).
