Displaced Shadow
Chapter 1:- Emergence from the shadow
Manhattan, USA
In the heart of New York City, amidst the bustling chaos and the neon-lit nights, there stood a building that housed a family unlike any other. The Baxter Building, home to the Fantastic Four, towered above the streets, a beacon of hope and resilience in a world often shadowed by danger and uncertainty. Inside its walls, the lives of four extraordinary individuals intertwined, each bringing their unique strengths and vulnerabilities to form a team that had saved the world more times than Susan Storm could count.
Susan, known to the world as the Invisible Woman, sat at the kitchen island, her thoughts heavy with the weight of recent events. She was a striking figure, with long blonde hair that fell in waves around her shoulders and blue eyes that seemed to hold the depth of the ocean. Her beauty was matched only by her strength and intelligence, qualities that had seen her through countless battles and personal struggles.
Reed had returned not long ago, his face drawn and exhausted after hours of closed-door meetings in Washington. Tall and lean, with dark hair streaked with gray, Reed Richards was the epitome of a brilliant but often preoccupied scientist. His sharp features were softened by the worry lines that had etched themselves around his eyes and mouth over the years. His dedication to solving the world's problems often left little room for the everyday worries that plagued their family.
Johnny, her younger brother, was the Human Torch. With his tousled blond hair, mischievous blue eyes, and athletic build, Johnny exuded confidence and charm. His fiery personality matched his powers, and he faced the world with a bravado that Susan both admired and feared for. Johnny had always been a source of light and energy in her life, but his recklessness often landed him—and them—in trouble.
Ben, their stalwart friend, was The Thing. Standing at over six feet tall, with a hulking frame covered in a rocky, orange exterior, Ben was an imposing figure. His appearance belied the gentle soul within. Despite his rough, almost monstrous appearance, Ben's blue eyes held a kindness and warmth that made him the heart of their team. His strength was unparalleled, but it was his loyalty and compassion that truly defined him.
Together, they had faced villains from the depths of the Negative Zone to the far reaches of the cosmos. They had battled the likes of Doctor Doom, Galactus, and countless others who sought to bring harm to their world. But tonight, as Susan sat alone in the kitchen, the threats they faced felt more personal, more immediate.
The past few days had been a whirlwind of stress and uncertainty. The Child Welfare Department had launched an investigation into their fitness as parents, questioning whether Franklin and Valeria were being raised in a safe environment. The accusations had cut deeply, and the threat of losing her children had shaken Susan to her core.
As if that weren't enough, Reed had just returned from a meeting with the tony—one of the world's most powerful heroes and leaders. They had discussed the looming Superhero Registration Act, a piece of legislation that threatened to upend their lives. The act would require all individuals with superhuman abilities to register with the government, revealing their identities and operating under strict oversight.
Reed's voice broke through her thoughts, pulling her back to the present. "Sue, we need to talk," he said quietly, not looking up.
Susan joined him at the table, reaching out to touch his arm. "What did he say?"
Reed sighed deeply, the lines of worry etched into his face. "The Superhero Registration Act is moving forward. It's only a matter of time before it becomes law. Tony thinks we should support it to avoid worse consequences, but..."
A sudden crackle of static interrupted their conversation. Reed's communicator, linked to the emergency distress frequency he had given to S.H.I.E.L.D., blared to life.
"-CAN YOU READ US, REPEAT, DR. RICHARDS, CAN YOU READ US-"
Reed grabbed the device, his expression immediately alert. "This is Dr. Richards. Identify yourself."
Susan watched as Reed's brow furrowed in confusion. "What the-? That's coming in on the emergency distress frequency I gave S.H.I.E.L.D...nobody else is supposed to have it."
"NATZZZAL SECURITY... EMERGENCY... ONLY YOU CAN-"
"What is it? What's happened?" Susan asked, her heart rate quickening.
Reed's fingers danced over the controls, trying to clear the static. "Two minutes, ten seconds later. Ben, up and at 'em. We need to be in the air in five minutes."
Ben Grimm, still groggy from sleep, lumbered into the room. "Yer kidding me..."
"Four minutes, fifty seconds," Reed continued, urgency in his voice.
"In the air? Where're we goin'?" Ben asked, rubbing his eyes.
"Oklahoma," Reed replied, not missing a beat.
"Oklahoma...? We're goin' ta Oklahoma?" Ben repeated, incredulous. "On purpose?"
"Three minutes, thirty seconds," Reed said, already moving to gather his equipment.
Susan's mind raced. The emergency call, the looming threat of the Registration Act, the stress of the Child Welfare investigation—it all collided in a whirlwind of anxiety. She looked at Reed, seeing the same determination she felt.
"Thank God... Dr. Richards, we need your help. Got this frequency from S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ, they can't get here in time—this is General William Ray. Emergency. You're our only hope."
Susan stood, her resolve hardening. "Let's go, Reed. The world might be falling apart, but we still have a job to do."
-x-
The Fantasti-Car soared through the night sky, its sleek design cutting through the clouds as it raced towards the coordinates provided by General Ray. The tension inside the vehicle was palpable, each member of the Fantastic Four focused on the mission ahead. Reed piloted the craft, his eyes scanning the horizon, while Susan sat beside him, her mind swirling with worry and determination. Johnny and Ben occupied the rear seats, readying themselves for whatever awaited them.
The Oklahoma landscape unfolded below them, a patchwork of fields and forests now marred by the flickering lights of an ongoing battle. As they approached the designated area, the crackle of military communications filled the cockpit.
"SIR! GETTING REPORTS OF MORE ENEMY FORCES CLOSING AT NORTHWEST PERIMETER!" a frantic voice shouted over the radio.
"GET BRAVO UNIT OVER THERE NOW! WE HAVE TO KEEP THEM AWAY FROM THE DOME AT ALL COSTS!" another voice commanded, the urgency clear in his tone.
Susan glanced at Reed, her concern mirrored in his eyes. "What are we dealing with, Reed?" she asked, her voice steady despite the anxiety gnawing at her.
Reed's jaw tightened. "We'll find out soon enough."
"SIR, FIELD COMMAND SAYS NOTHING SEEMS TO STOP THE INTRUDERS—" the first voice continued, panic rising.
"That's because they can't be stopped. Not by our forces, that's for damned sure and S.H.I.E.L.D. can't get here in time," came the grim reply.
The Fantasti-Car descended rapidly, landing with a soft thud in a clearing surrounded by chaos. Soldiers and military vehicles scrambled in all directions, the air thick with the smell of smoke and the sounds of combat. As the team disembarked, they were met with a scene of devastation.
"STAND ASIDE FOR THE GLORY THAT IS DOOM! STAND ASIDE FOR THE GLORY THAT IS DOOM!" the metallic voices of Doombots echoed through the night, their chant a chilling reminder of their master's presence.
Reed's eyes narrowed as he surveyed the battlefield. "Not again... Doombots," he muttered.
"S.H.I.E.L.D. can't get here in time... same for conventional ground forces... but I'm not sure it would matter, not against them," Susan said, echoing the earlier sentiment. Her force fields shimmered around her, a visible manifestation of her readiness.
The team moved forward cautiously, expecting to find more casualties. Instead, they were greeted by an unexpected sight: hundreds of Doombot bodies, strewn across the ground, their mechanical parts scattered like fallen leaves. The remnants of battle were everywhere—shattered metal, sparking wires, and the telltale signs of an intense confrontation.
"What the hell...?" Johnny muttered, his flames flickering to life as he prepared for any remaining threats.
Ben stepped forward, his rocky fists clenched. "Looks like someone beat us to the punch."
Reed examined the scene closely. Amid the wreckage, he noticed something unusual—different kinds of weapons embedded in the Doombots. Kunai, shuriken, and short swords, their blades glinting in the dim light.
"These weapons... they're not from around here," Reed said, picking up a kunai and inspecting it. "Ninja tools."
Susan's eyes widened. "Who could have done this?"
Before she could finish her thought, the sound of clashing metal drew their attention. In the midst of the battlefield, a figure stood surrounded by the remains of countless Doombots. He was a tall man with white hair and piercing red eyes. His face, though calm, showed signs of exhaustion if one looked closely enough. His attire was unusual—a sleeveless dark jacket that left his heavily tattooed arms exposed. The tattoos were intricate, filled with strange patterns and symbols that pulsed faintly in the dim light.
Opposite him stood Doctor Doom, his green cloak billowing in the wind, his armor damaged and scorched. Doom's eyes blazed with fury behind his iron mask as he confronted the stranger.
"STAND ASIDE FOR THE GLORY THAT IS DOOM!" Doom's voice rang out, filled with arrogance and rage. "You dare to challenge me, a no-name interloper? I am Victor von Doom, monarch of Latveria, master of science and sorcery! You are nothing—a mere insect beneath my boot, unworthy of my time or wrath."
The stranger, undeterred by Doom's vitriol, tightened his grip on his strange three-pronged weapon. His calm demeanor, despite his visible exhaustion, seemed to infuriate Doom even more.
"You have managed to delay the inevitable, but you have only earned yourself a swifter death," Doom continued, his voice dripping with contempt. "Your primitive weapons, your feeble attempts at resistance—pathetic! I will crush you, as I have crushed all who have dared to oppose me. Prepare to be annihilated by the might of Doom!"
Reed signaled the team to hold their position, watching the confrontation with a mix of fascination and caution. "Whoever he is, he's holding his own against Doom," he whispered to Susan.
Susan nodded, her eyes never leaving the battle. "We need to step in, but let's handle these Doombots first."
Johnny's flames intensified as he hovered above the ground, ready to launch into action. "I don't know who this guy is, but he's got guts."
Ben cracked his knuckles, his rocky exterior gleaming in the light of the fires burning around them. "Let's hope he's on our side."
The stranger, bloodied but unbowed, met Doom's glare with unwavering resolve. The battlefield fell silent, the air thick with tension as the two prepared to clash once more. The Fantastic Four readied themselves, poised to intervene.
-x-
Doctor Doom, monarch of Latveria, master of science and sorcery, stood amidst the wreckage of his Doombots, facing an unexpected and vexing adversary. His green cloak fluttered in the night breeze, his iron mask reflecting the fires that lit the battlefield. Despite the damage to his armor and the relentless onslaught he had endured, his posture remained imperious, his presence a bastion of unwavering confidence.
It was impossible. Doom could scarcely believe his eyes. This stranger, wielding a strange three-pronged weapon, moved with an agility and precision that bypassed Doom's defenses repeatedly. The man had no right to be here, standing against Doom.
They had left Doom in Hell, with no way out. But Doom was not so easily defeated. He had faced the Hell-horde,exploited the battles of the Nordic gods and the energy they diffused which shook the very fabric of all relms, and rent the very fabric of Hell itself to escape. Here he stood, defiant and unbowed, despite the formidable forces arrayed against him. His armor, though damaged, still possessed enough power to challenge most foes, it was why he went straight for Mjölnir when he had the chance right as he escaped hell even if he was not fully prepared. But this... this interloper was something else entirely.
Doom's eyes narrowed as he analysed his opponent's movements. The teleportation technique, though unfamiliar, involved instantaneous displacement through marked locations. The stranger's use of these techniques was precise and deliberate, always keeping him one step ahead, evading both physical and mystical assaults. The three pronged knives with the strange marks on it's handle were made of some sort of special metal, likely adamantium as they were capable of doing substantial damage to Doom's armour.
The battlefield was a testament to the stranger's prowess. Hundreds of Doombots lay in ruins, their mechanical bodies pierced by kunai, shuriken, and short swords. These weapons, though primitive, were wielded with lethal precision, demonstrating a martial skill that rivaled Doom's own mastery of technology and sorcery.
Doom's voice thundered across the battlefield. "You dare to challenge me, a mere insect? I am Doom, ruler of Latveria, master of science and sorcery! You are nothing—a mere pest unworthy of my time or wrath." His gauntlet crackled with electrical energy, ready to unleash its devastating power.
But each time Doom launched an attack, the stranger vanished, reappearing moments later, his weapon poised to strike. The stranger's cowardly technique was an affront to Doom's superiority, bypassing his armor's defenses and avoiding his offense. Doom's electrical field, designed to incapacitate any who dared to engage him in melee, was rendered useless against this opponent's strange teleportation.
With a gesture, Doom summoned a surge of mystical energy, his armored form glowing with an eerie light. "You are but a distraction, a fleeting moment of resistance. Doom's destiny is to rule, to dominate. You, however, will be nothing but a footnote in my path to ultimate power."
The air crackled with power as Doom unleashed a torrent of electrical energy, the ground sizzling where the bolts struck. But once again, the stranger evaded the attack, his calm exterior betraying the signs of exhaustion that only a keen observer would notice.
Doom's lips curled into a snarl beneath his mask as he realized the arrival of his arch nemesis, the fantastic four. There arrival certainly made this a more difficult challenge but overcoming impossible adversity was Doom's destiny 'Let them come' Doom thought in enraged arrogance, 'Doom would crush them all'.
But for all the display of Doom's formidable power the man with blood streaked white hair refused to leave his calm disposition instead The enigmatic warrior wiped blood off his face with a swift motion, then drew a straight line on his left arm with his blood. With a determined slam of his palm on the line, a puff of smoke materialized three shurikens. The stranger balanced one on his fingers and it started spinning on it's own, its spinning motion increasing as he blew on it. The shuriken began to spin more rapidly, and extended blades of visible wind started forming around it.
Doom, seeing this, sneered. "You think such a feeble attack can harm me?" He dodged the shuriken effortlessly, only to realize it was never meant for him. The spinning wind-enhanced shuriken tore through a group of Doombots that were not engaged by the Fantastic Four, slicing them into pieces.
Feeling insulted, Doom prepared to retaliate, but another wind-enhanced shuriken was already heading towards his face. His instincts kicked in, allowing him to dodge just in time, but not before the shuriken grazed his mask. Doom's eyes widened in shock as he felt the damage to the most reinforced part of his armor. The very thought of his face being exposed sent him into a rage.
Doom's face twisted with fury beneath his iron mask. His mask was more than just armor—it was his shield against the world, hiding the scars that marked, his pain, his humiliation. The possibility of his disfigured face being revealed, even for a moment, was an insult he could not tolerate.
"You dare damage my mask?" Doom roared, his voice filled with unbridled rage. "You dare risk exposing my face? The face of Doom is not for the likes of you to see! I will crush you for your insolence!"
-x-The Fantastic Four, engaged in their own battle against the remaining Doombots, couldn't help but notice the stranger's incredible abilities. Susan Storm, the Invisible Woman, watched in awe and concern. The man's sleeveless jacket revealed heavily tattooed arms, marked with strange patterns. His calm expression belied the exhaustion that was evident to her keen eyes. Red streaks stained his white hair, indicating blood loss, and his movements, though precise, showed signs of substantial fatigue.
She created an invisible force field, blocking an incoming attack aimed at her brother, Johnny Storm, the Human Torch. "Johnny, watch out!" she called, her voice tight with worry. Her gaze flicked back to the stranger. Who is he? And why does he fight with such determination?
Reed Richards, Mr. Fantastic, stretched his arm to ensnare a Doombot, analyzing the scene with a scientist's precision. His mind raced as he observed the battle between Doom and the stranger. The teleportation technique was unlike anything he had seen before, bypassing Doom's formidable defenses with relative ease. Reed's analytical mind quickly deduced that the man was not just any warrior but one who possessed a deep understanding of both strategy and combat, minimizing his own movements and chances for fatal mistakes while baiting Doom and exploiting his phycology.
"Ben, we need to take down these Doombots fast," Reed shouted to the Thing. "Doom is distracted, but we can't let our guard down."
Ben Grimm, with his rocky exterior and immense strength, smashed through a group of Doombots with a grunt. "Yeah, yeah, I'm on it, Stretch. Just keep those brain cells of yours focused on finding a way to help that guy."
Susan's worry deepened as she saw the signs of exhaustion on the stranger's face. He was fighting valiantly, but how much longer could he keep this up? The Fantastic Four needed to finish their fight and intervene before it was too late.
As she created another force field to deflect a barrage of attacks, her thoughts raced. Whoever this stranger was, he had stepped into their world with skill and bravery. And now, he needed their help.
-x-
Doctor Doom's rage boiled beneath his iron mask; the thought of his disfigured face being exposed sending waves of fury through him. His mask was not just Armor; it was a symbol of his superiority, his intellect, his will. The idea of anyone glimpsing the scars of his past was intolerable. To think that this unknown warrior, with his white hair and calm, exhausted demeanour, had come so close to such a humiliation was infuriating.
Doom watched as the stranger balanced the third spinning shuriken on his fingers, its motion mesmerizing. He sneered, dismissing the weapon's potential. "You mock me by thinking the same pitiful attacks can harm Doom!"
The fight had taken an unexpected turn. Doom had become accustomed to the stranger bypassing his armor's force field with his teleportation technique. He had stopped using it altogether, deeming it useless against such an opponent. But these wind-enhanced shurikens couldn't bypass his force field. As another wind enhanced shuriken flew towards him, Doom stood straight and activated his force field at the last possible second. The shuriken stopped harmlessly against it.
Doom began to gloat. "Fool! Did you really think you could—" His words froze as the stranger appeared behind him, mere inches away. Doom's analytical mind raced. The assumption that only the three-pronged knives could be marked was wrong. As he dodged the second shuriken, the stranger had marked the third shuriken, predicting Doom's realization that the shurikens could not bypass the force field. The stranger had used this to get a marked weapon closer to Doom.
Despite the sudden proximity, Doom was confident. His armor's special reinforcement around his vitals would hold and His knives despite being good enough to do damage to his armour could not pierce deep enough to dish out mortal damage. But instead of attacking, the stranger grabbed Doom by the cape around his neck and pulled him back and then delivered a push kick. Doom staggered, alarm bells ringing in his head. This warrior did not waste chances and if this was his best then he just wasted a precious chance. The stranger's fingers, still together, meant something.
Doom did not have to wait long to find out. The first two shurikens, still spinning, had not lost speed and were now heading toward him from opposite sides straight to his neck. Doom prepared to dodge and get his neck out of the way, confident his face armor would withstand the assault. Too late, he realized the true target was not his neck but his face from the start, specifically his mask. The stranger's tired smirk even as his hands continue to perform some strange hand movements, confirmed it.
Doom withstood the assault as the shurikens stopped spinning and fell harmlessly around doom, Doom raised his hand to his mask seethed with rage, feeling the severe damage. The mask, the symbol of his power and mystique, was compromised, barely hanging together. His rage erupted. "You dare mock Doom?!" Enraged, Doom raised his other hand, launching a lightning-imbued mystical blast.
The stranger, anticipating the attack, slammed his hands together. "Earth Style: Mud Wall!" A wall of earth rose from the ground, but Doom's blast shattered it, throwing the stranger back despite the mud wall absorbing most of the damaging potential of Doom's mythic lightning wave. He rolled multiple times before landing on his feet, albeit unsteadily.
Doom was greeted with a sight that seared into his mind. The stranger stood, defiant, blood dripping from his mouth. Despite his injuries, the tired smirk was gone, replaced by a chuckle that sounded all the more mocking. Doom's fury peaked, perceiving the chuckle as mockery from someone he considered beneath him. He voiced his outrage, "You think you can humiliate Doom and live?!, You think you can attempt to expose Doom's face and live?!"
Doctor Doom's rage was palpable as he prepared to launch another attack, his gauntleted hand crackling with energy. But before he could unleash his fury, his nemeses, the Fantastic Four, materialized in front of him. Reed Richards, his elongated form stretching to its full height, spoke with a commanding tone.
"Stop, Doom! You've failed. It's over."
Doom's eyes narrowed behind his compromised mask. His immediate instinct was to strike, to obliterate these meddlesome heroes. But the precarious state of his mask gave him pause. The feeling that it could fall off at any moment was a humiliating reminder of his vulnerability.
He would have retreated then and there, but the mocking smile on the face of the white-haired warrior who had dared to challenge him held him in place. That smile ignited his fury anew, reminding him of the chance to acquire Mjölnir he was about to lose. He could always seize another opportunity to claim Mjölnir, but he could not afford the indignity of having his disfigured face exposed to the world.
Refusing to swallow his pride, Doom vowed to destroy this white-haired man and repay the humiliation tenfold. He activated a portal, and from it, a barrage of missiles shot out, all aimed directly at his defiant adversary. The panic that erupted from the missile launch provided the perfect cover for Doom to make his escape.
As Doom slipped away, Susan Storm's eyes widened in realization of the imminent danger. "Johnny, Ben! Help me create a barrier!" she shouted. Instantly, she formed a giant bubble of force field around the group. The transparent shield shimmered as it expanded, encompassing everyone within range of the attack.
Reed Richards stretched his body outside the protective bubble, his limbs extending in all directions. He moved swiftly, pulling people into the safety of the force field. Among the civilians and soldiers he rescued, he recognized one figure in particular: Phil Coulson, the formidable agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.
"Agent Phill?" Reed exclaimed as he brought him into the safety of the bubble. "What are you doing here?"
Coulson, his usually stern face etched with tension, responded tersely, "No time to explain, Richards. We need to get everyone to safety."
The missiles exploded against Susan's force field, the sheer force causing ripples to cascade across its surface. Inside, the people huddled together, some covering their heads, others clinging to loved ones. Despite the chaos, Susan held firm, her powers straining but not faltering.
Johnny Storm, the Human Torch, hovered near the top of the bubble, ready to intercept any further threats. "Sis, how long can you hold this?"
"As long as it takes," Susan replied through gritted teeth, focusing all her energy on maintaining the barrier.
Ben Grimm, the Thing, stood at the forefront, ready to charge out if needed. "Reed, what's the plan?"
Reed scanned the area, his mind working rapidly. "We need to get these people out of here and neutralize any remaining threats. Johnny, Ben, be ready to assist."
Outside the force field, the battlefield was a scene of devastation. The remnants of destroyed Doombots littered the ground, and plumes of smoke rose from the impact sites of the missiles. Yet amidst the chaos, the white-haired warrior stood firm, still showing signs of exhaustion but undeterred.
Susan couldn't help but glance at him, noting the blood streaks in his hair and the exhaustion etched on his face wondering if the red lines on the side of his eyes and chin were mere blood streaks or birth marks. Despite his injuries, there was a resolve in his eyes that impressed her.
As the immediate danger subsided, Reed began organizing the evacuation. "We need to move quickly," he instructed. "Johnny, scout ahead and make sure the path is clear. Ben, help with the injured. Susan, keep that barrier up until we're sure it's safe
The Fantastic Four moved with practiced efficiency, their unity and teamwork a testament to their years of battling threats together. Despite the unexpected nature of their current ally and the intensity of the battle, they remained steadfast, determined to protect those in need.
As the immediate threat of the missiles dissipated, Susan Storm maintained her force field a moment longer, ensuring that everyone was safe. The battlefield was a scene of devastation, with plumes of smoke rising from the impact sites and the remnants of destroyed Doombots scattered around.
The white-haired warrior, who had fought so valiantly, finally showed signs of succumbing to his exhaustion. His legs buckled, and he began to fall backward. Susan, nearest to him, reacted swiftly and caught him before he hit the ground.
She supported him, feeling the contrast between the stoic, unshakable calm he had exhibited during the fight and the exhausted, vulnerable expression on his face now. His eyes struggled to remain open, but he managed to look at her, staring intently before a small smile formed on his lips.
"You are the first pleasant sight I have seen all week," he murmured, his voice weak but sincere.
Susan couldn't help but smile back at him, despite the multitude of emotions swirling within her—embarrassment, flattery, and a deep respect for his resilience. Before any of the male members, especially Johnny, could protest such a statement or before Susan could fully process her feelings, Phil Coulson's voice cut through the moment.
"Yep! He is out of it, all right. Also, rude! You've been spending time with me all week."
The humorous interruption broke the tension, and even in the gravity of the situation, it brought a brief, light-hearted moment.
Despite his exhaustion, the white-haired warrior responded with a jest, "I stand by that, you unpleasant man."
Despite the words, it was obvious that it was in jest. Coulson's smile slipped, his tone becoming sombre. "It's really not a good sign that you are getting so expressive with your emotions, you only let your honest emotions out when you are beyond exhausted, enough to the point that you don't have the physical and mental strength to hold it all together and so you let your honesty out, You should not have been here, threats of Doom's calibre are not supposed to be handled by rookies no matter how old or talented they are."
The white-haired warrior, despite his exhaustion, nodded and addressed Coulson. "I know, but what choice did we have?" He rolled his shoulders to get the painful kinks out as he talked. "We got lucky."
Susan and Reed exchanged glances, their thoughts reflecting on the battle and their new ally, before they could express their thoughts the man with the white hair continued "I had read up on the man, his abilities. He did not do half of those things. That piece of info regarding his abilities was the reason I used Flying Raijin. In retrospect, that was unnecessary."
"No, it was not," Phil Coulson replied without hesitation. "This is Doom we are talking about. A rookie like you should not get so comfortable with concepts like holding back, especially against someone like him."
The white-haired warrior responded, "It is not about holding back, it's about having an element of surprise. Now that Doom knows what my Flying Raijin looks like, whenever we encounter each other again, he will have several strategies built specifically for countering Flying Raijin."
Susan and Reed took note of Coulson's "rookie" comment. Reed's expression turned serious as he recounted their history with Doom. "Doom is incredibly dangerous. We've faced him many times, and each time he comes back stronger and more prepared, not holding back was the right idea."
The white-haired warrior barely gave a nod for the sake of ending the conversation as he began picking up his three-pronged knives, or kunai as he called them. Susan thought of helping him and picked up the nearest kunai, noting that it was far heavier than it looked, so much so that she almost struggled to lift it up. It also had an almost unnoticeable but present vibration to it. The inner scientist in her was intrigued as she examined the strange symbol on the handle of the knife—an octagon inside a hexagon, all connected by three parallel lines running through both shapes.
Reed was also examining one, his brilliant mind forming multiple theories about its purpose. He tried asking, "Umm, this—"
"Classified," Phil Coulson stepped in and gently took the knives from the Richards. The white-haired warrior had already collected most of his special kunai. Susan noted that his earlier, more open and vulnerable look had reverted back to a calm and stoic expression. He took the kunai, a handful really, and wiped the blood from his mouth again. He drew a straight line at his left wrist tattoos and placed the knives on it. In a puff of smoke, they vanished.
Before Reed, Johnny Storm, or Ben Grimm could question what they saw, Phil Coulson pre-emptively said, "Classified."
Before anyone could voice their frustration, the white-haired warrior responded, "It was an honor to work with all of you." He shook their hands without many words, just nodding his head and then putting his hand on one of his special knives. In an instant, he disappeared, leaving behind that distict sound it always made when he teleported.
A few awkward moments later, Johnny exclaimed, "Wait a minute! That guy did not even give us his name."
As that realization hit everyone, Phil Coulson repeated, "Classified."
Susan grumbled, and so did everyone else. As the scene settled, Susan found herself reflecting on everything that had happened. The fight with Doom, the unexpected ally in the white-haired stranger, and the strange but undeniable sense of respect and curiosity she felt towards him. His stoic demeanour during the battle, his vulnerable moment of exhaustion, and his mysterious abilities all left a strong impression on her, on all of them really, she thought as she looked around at the members of her family, all with varying levels of curiosity on their faces.
-x-
5,000 Feet Over Akron, Ohio
Maria Hill stood at the command center of the Helicarrier, eyes fixed on the myriad of screens displaying live feeds and tactical readouts. The aftermath of the confrontation with Doctor Doom right in front of her screen. She took a deep breath, her demeanour as rigid and controlled as ever. The memory of a recent conversation with one of her junior agents flashed in her mind.
Flashback:
"How many this time, Commander Hill?" the young agent had asked, his voice tinged with concern.
"Twenty-six," Maria had replied flatly. "Two kids and a dog."
The agent had shifted uncomfortably. "One of my colleagues was going over a report and said to me—"
"—You know all those people Norman Osborn killed as the Green Goblin? When does it become Spider-Man's fault?" Maria did a good job disguising her surprise, her frustration evident. "He said, Spider-Man's the one who has Osborn by the throat three times a year, but he never does what he has to do. How many times does that have to happen before the whole damn thing becomes Spider-Man's fault? Who do you think had more control over what happened? The twenty-six people and the dog, or him?"
The agent had looked down, struggling to find the right words, her voice shaky. "The thing I want to know is... why does he let this continue?"
"He? Let?" the agent had stammered.
"…is it not his fault that Norman's still alive," she had pressed. "Commander... and I gotta tell you..."
Maria had finally found his voice. "why would it be Spider-Man's fault? He webs him up, they throw him in jail, then Osborn breaks out and he goes on another homicidal rampage..."
Maria had taken a deep breath, her patience wearing thin. "it's not Spider-Man's fault Norman Osborn is nuts. My question to you is I'm doing everything I can to stop the Hulk. My question is, are you?" Maria asked with an edge that indicated that this conversation was over
Back on the command center of the Helicarrier, Maria shook off the memory and refocused on the present. The agent had meant well, but the frustration of dealing with endless crises was starting to take its toll. She had heard rumblings on Capitol Hill—people looking for things to blame on S.H.I.E.L.D. The pressure was mounting, and it was her job to make sure they stayed ahead of it.
Maria Hill prided herself on being level-headed and strict, a no-nonsense agent who found comfort in upholding rules and laws. She prioritized her work above everything else, finding solace in the realm of fact and knowledge rather than feelings. This was why she preferred her allies to be strong and capable, able to take care of themselves just as she did, which was why it was hard for her to trust superheroes.
Her distrust of superheroes, particularly the Fantastic Four, stemmed from their unpredictability and tendency to let emotions dictate their actions. Reed Richards was brilliant, but his impulsiveness often led to more problems than solutions. Susan Storm's loyalty to her team, while admirable, sometimes clouded her judgment and endangered those not part of her team.
The distinct sound of Tobirama's teleportation technique echoed through the room, breaking her concentration and the activity of everyone present. She turned, her gaze falling on Tobirama as he materialized before her, his state clearly showing the toll of the recent battle.
"I told you if things didn't look good, then come back," Maria said, her tone a mix of concern and reprimand.
Tobirama grunted, barely masking his fatigue. "The commander I've come to know this last year wouldn't have done that."
Maria raised an eyebrow at his informality but chose to overlook it, understanding that exhaustion often made it hard for him to care about such things. "Tobirama," she chided lightly, "you know better than to push yourself to the brink."
As she observed him, Maria couldn't help but recall the details of and his his unusual abilities. Tobirama had been introduced to S.H.I.E.L.D. as an independent mercenary with mutant abilities, the source of his abilities was "chakra" as he called it. Apparently, everyone had chakra, just highly fragmented to the point that they cannot use it, but he had an unusually large amount of it and in the most optimum consistency, and his mutation gave him an internal network that allowed him to use it in extraordinary ways. She had seen him walk on water and walls, manipulate elements, feats that defied conventional physics. But it was his "sealing arts" that had truly intrigued her and the science division.
His "Flying Raijin" technique was the result of his 'sealing arts', his 'sealing art' had caused a mild uproar within the science division. The mathematics and physics involved in it was certainly above her level, but apparently, they were not nearly as crazy as the kind that Reed Richards and Hank Pym delved into. It was surface level enough that multiple scientists within S.H.I.E.L.D.'s ranks had thought, "Why had they not thought of that?" The theoretical math and physics apparently checked out, and yet they could not recreate it. Despite their ongoing efforts, they had yet to crack the mystery of his sealing art, 'I got a genius with Mutant abilities on my hand, so easy to reign in aren't they' Maria thought sarcastically.
And he was tough to handle, despite being a man of few words and always being in control, he was never shy about what he thought when he thought it really mattered, he was older than most first year agents, yet his competence rivalled the very best that shield had to offer, allowing him to climb ranks faster than anyone, but he was a man and men came with egos, and competent men came with even bigger ego, he was no different, he hid it well but Maria could see it in his eyes, he was holding himself back but there were ambitious fires in his eyes that he was suppressing, why he was doing it was a mystery to anyone but Maria was not complaining, it made it easier for her to guide him after all,
Maria turned back to the screens, letting out a sigh. "It worked out. It was good that you got introduced to the Fantastic Four members this way."
Tobirama's curiosity was piqued despite his tired state. "Why?"
Maria had a cryptic smile on her beautiful face. "I have plans for them... and for you."
Tobirama frowned slightly, sensing there was more to her words than she was letting on. "What kind of plans?"
She turned to face him fully, her expression unreadable. "Let's just say, alliances are crucial in the times ahead. The Fantastic Four have their uses, and so do you. Together, you might be able to handle threats that even we can't predict."
Tobirama studied her, recognizing the weight of her words. "And you trust them?"
"Trust?" Maria echoed. "That's a strong word. I see their potential, their strengths and weaknesses. It's my job to make sure we're prepared for every possibility. Including making the most of every ally we have."
He nodded, accepting that she was not going to tell him everything and despite there being more to her reasons, this was going to be her explanation. "Understood."
Maria watched as he swayed slightly, his exhaustion catching up with him. "Get some rest, Tobirama. You've earned it. We'll debrief later."
As Tobirama turned to leave, Maria called out, "And Tobirama, next time... don't wait until you're on the brink."
He glanced back at her, a hint of a tired smile on his face. "Yes, Commander."
She nodded, watching him disappear once more. The room abuzz as usual, save for the hum of the Helicarrier's engines. Maria returned her focus to the screens, the weight of her responsibilities pressing down on her once more. She had plans, indeed. And she would see them through, whether the superhero world liked it or not.
-x-
Tobirama left the main headquarters heading to infirmary, a light grunt left his lips, his injuries making it difficult for him to walk but he carried on, refusing help offered by fellow agents as he trudged forward making it to the infirmary, the nurse looking at me with a familiar frown, a familiarity in her eyes seeing me in such a state "You probably have broken the record for most blood shed by a rookie in their first year at this point!" the head nurse spoke in Japanese, she and I had developed a bit of a rapport with each other in these last few months, it started with him being able to speak good Japanese and she liked talking to him in Japanese, apparently she gets exhausted constantly trying to downplay her 'asianness' for the sake of fitting in better, overtime that rapport developed further with him just nodding and listening and filling her need to fuss over him and mother someone without giving her lecture about boundaries and professionalism.
"it's not like I go out looking for trouble Nakamura-san" he responded wincing as even talking was painful, she sat him down and did her usual fussy mother routine, usually I would listen to her troubles about what I or others put her through but today he just did not have the strength for it.
His mind inadvertently started reminiscing, about the last moments from his previous life, no 'previous life' was an overstatement, he had died in his previous life, his consciousness was brought back to life twice in a body similar to his but meant for someone else to control, he had broken the control over him the second time around and went on to help the shinobi alliance in their efforts to win the fourth great shinobi war, he had expected his 'end' the third time around to be the end of it although he would not have been surprised if he was summoned again by the sealing technique that he invented, the irony was not lost on him.
Instead, he was dropped in this universe, there was not much fanfare to his arrival either, no tear in the very fabric of space and time or anything of the sort, he was just dropped in this universe right in the middle of Pacific Ocean.
He had enough wherewithal of himself that he survived, and got to the nearest land, immigrant hate that he faced aside it did not take long for him to do what he was good at, gather information and adapt, and that is exactly what he did, whether it was papers for his legal identity or his story of being a mutant who can manipulate chakra, taught by a man in east Asia who was also capable of similar feats named Dan Inoki, a Buddhist monk from Japan.
He was sure the people who do background checks for S.H.I.E.L.D found him too, he had made sure that if any one looks for him, they will find him, blood clones were useful like that.
It's not like he has lied all that much, he is legitimately a Mutant in this world, his genetic test checks out, he does possess the mutant gene, the only lie is about what his mutation actually is, it's not his ability to use chakra, it's his ability to use Wood style, a bloodline limit that as far as he knew only his elder brother possessed.
He had never shown any signs of ever developing it but his arrival in this world had somehow forced that mutation in him, not that he was complaining, he would require every bit of advantage he could get considering the monsters that roam this world, this world positively puts the absurdness of his previous world to shame.
There being another universe entirely different from his own did not shock him all that much, a man like him who always had a natural deposition towards science and mathematics, a man like him who had to understand and master Yin chakra to invent the sealing techniques that made him infamous was bound to think and ponder on the possibilities of an entirely different Multiverse from his own, what had him perplexed is that he was dropped here.
Yes, it wasn't that he just dropped here, He Was Dropped Here, someone or something wanted him here and so he was dropped here, some might think it was arrogant to think that cosmic entities wanted him here, but that was the thing, he knew the nature of his technique, the Impure World Reincarnation, he also knows the nature of the technique that Saru used to subdue him and his elder brother's souls, his soul Was bound to the stomach of Shinigami, a cosmic entity in and of itself, yet he was here, any explanation to something like that was going to be absurd but the only explanation that made any sense was that someone or something, a cosmic being with the might greater than the Shinigami ripped his soul's bondage to Shinigami and dropped him here.
Tobirama did not know what to make of it, it was not like he could confirm it as it stood, but even if he could what was he going to do with it? If all this turned out to be a joke from an entity so powerful it was beyond his mind's comprehension, what was he going to do? It was precisely his unwillingness to ponder on this emptiness that he felt at thinking these thoughts that he went out looking for a distraction and he found himself one, S.H.I.E.L.D.
Some days were difficult, the urge to push himself into a leader's spot and minimize the incompetence around him was there but he suppressed it like he was doing most things these days, I was surrounded by rookies with little experience, it was not their fault, it was when the supposed veterans were incompetent that would grind his gears, especially when they would pull rank on him to try to shut him down, he just did not have patience for that.
Yet still he was avoiding being in a leadership position, he had his hangups from his previous life, everyone would always use to say that he was a better leader then his elder brother, because he was 'Practical' and a 'Realist', but he disagreed, him coming back to the land of the living had made him cognizant to the fact that some of blame of the 3rd and 4th great shinobi wars happening was because of him.
He was the most influential Kage in shinobi world's history despite being the brother of the Kage who distributed Biju beasts like gifts to the major shinobi villages, his invention of ANBU forces, the Shinobi academy, the Chunin Exams, all for the sake of limiting child soldiers and limiting children's involvement in a war and still not diminishing the effectiveness of a village's militia were so effective that other villages adopted his methods, he had a big hand in shaping the shinobi world.
He had wanted to create a world that was different from the one he grew up in, where it was not seen as a necessity for children to prepare for war and become soldiers at the age of six, he thought that the best way to achieve peace in shinobi world was through pragmatism and well-defined rules and laws, and so he made them and his rules and laws soon were adopted by the shinobi world, it had done so because his methods were effective, even if all he did was make a War Machine more efficient.
It was for those reasons that he was avoiding any leadership position, trying to be on the field on active duty, tonight was supposed to be one of the dull nights, and then those Doombots arrived at Ohio, on the research facility tasked with securing Mijonir, it was a good thing he had left a mark when he was there or Doom might have gotten his hands on a divine weapon.
Thinking back to the fight with Doom and his Doombots, he was not arrogant enough to not admit that he got lucky, the 100's upon 100 Doombots were a challenge in and of itself but Doom had reportedly battled gods before and come out victorious, he definitely came ill prepared because just reading about all the things his armour alone had done in the past gave him a headache, but today Doom did not use half of those abilities, yet he still could have lost if not for the arrival of Fantastic Four.
Thinking of the superhero group, the first thing that came to mind was what he said to the woman they call Invisible Woman, Susan Storm, and he was embarrassed, ao much so that nurse Nakamura commented on why his cheeks got so red, dismissing her fussing he went back to thinking about that interaction, he really should not have said that 'And right in front of her husband' he grumbled to himself, but exhaustion always had a way of making him honest in ways he did not want to be.
Truth was that she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, but it wasn't just her beauty but also the way she looked at him when she held him with those big blue eyes that had him feeling things you should not feel for a woman who is married and so he suppressed those feelings like he always does.
Those feelings would only get in the way if commander Maria Hill was to be believed, he had mixed felling on her, she thought herself more competent then she actually was but she was sincere and took her position seriously so he did not have too much complaints with her, if he was going to be meeting Fantastic Four a lot these coming days then it was better to get these weird thoughts and urges of wanting to talk to that woman again out my head, being charming and impressing women was his elder brother's strong point not his, where did that come from he had no idea 'it's those damn eyes' he grumbled to himself again, getting red again and nurse Nakamura fussing, again 'Damnit!'.
-x-
Author's notes: -so there you have it, the first chapter, this idea came into my head because i am a huge tobirama fan and there is not enough quality crossover fanfics with him, he is basically batman with water bending powers and teleportation powers, a genius at weaponizing science and pace with his sealing art and speed.
I plan on making this big, like really big, I know it will be difficult but writing this was fun
So about this story, this technically is a Naruto/fantastic four/inhumans crossover but you bet the other big entities of marvel will be involved, I am sick of going to comics section and getting yet another MCU story, so give me suggestions, comic book story suggestions if possible, about the things you would like to see, or any ideas of your own, if you have legit criticisms about the quality of writing or any plot points then do share them but be respectful about it.
Until next time, cheers!