Call Me… Doc Ock – Arc One: Origin

Chapter 5: Regrouping and Assessments

In a warehouse hidden from prying eyes, Isaiah Curwen and several of his knights walked into a room stocked with medical equipment, both mundane and mystical. The man himself walked over to a cabinet and took several of its contents before moving over to a table cleared for treatment. Slowly, with his right arm, Isaiah took one his knives and began to cut the straps holding his ruined armor. With a hiss he began to remove the plate armor covering his chest first. Once it fell off and hit the floor with a clang, he worked on the pieces covering his left arm. With muttered cursing pried each one off.

Taking a moment to assess the damage done, Isaiah's face grew grimmer still. From what he could see through the damaged chainmail, most of the left side of his upper body had serious burns. While he could still move his left arm, doing so was excruciating. Gritting his teeth, Isaih finally pulled the mesh off his body and threw it aside for later inspection and repair.

The old man couldn't quite stop a grimace as looked at his arm. A great deal of his flesh was burnt, mostly near his hand. That he could still feel pain and move his hand meant that it could not have been worse than a second-degree burn. So, he would only need to make use of some salves and bandages to take care of it.

Picking up a mirror, he inspected his face. There were burns there as well. It was rather fortunate for him that the damage was contained mostly to his left side. It would have been far more problematic if the explosion had damaged his remaining eye. While he had a great deal of experience with his other senses, complete loss of his sight would have been disastrous. Not to mention no longer having access to his mesmerizing technique.

With a grunt, he began work on treating the worst of the damage around his hand. As he did so one of his knights approached and stood at attention. "Sir Curwen, I have taken time to assess our situation and am ready to report," the young man stated. Isaiah looked over towards the knight. The man was a brunette with brown eyes. He was rather on the youngish side. A new recruit, went by the name of Louis Grant, if Isaiah recalled correctly. "Very well, squire, let's hear it."

At his leader's prompting, Grant began. "So far several of our knights have been bested and contained by the mages. While the few who escaped managed to avoid leaving a direct trail, several of our vehicles and equipment have been confiscated, which the police may use to pick up the trail. It is likely that the mages will use this trail track us to this current base in due time."

At that Isaiah scowled. Damnable devil-worshippers. As much as he would like to hunt them all down and gut them, Isaiah was well aware that trying a direct assault on the so-called 'Masters of the Mystic Arts' would be dangerous even if he were at full health. In his current state and with them on alert for his presence, it would be suicidal to try and fight them.

Reigning in his desire to carve them up like pigs, Isaiah took a calming breath. He turned to Grant. "Squire, inform the others that they are to prepare to leave at a moment's notice. While we have protections to avoid notice from the ignorant masses and the lesser witches, it wouldn't do to assume that we will not be discovered under more focused scrutiny." "Yes, Sir Curwen!" The squire went off to do as ordered and Isaiah went back to the task at hand. He would need a few weeks to recover, but Isaiah could be patient. Once he was ready, he would get his target and anyone else in his way, mage or mutant.

In a mansion, within the city of London, Roderick and Kashir shivered as they knelt before the leader of their clan in his private study. Frederick Slade despite being over a century was well-built man who didn't look older than his forties. His dark-pink hair was neatly cut and showed only moderate gray hair. His eyes, like Roderick's, were currently a striking pink color that glowed with power, rather than the usual green. Currently he wore his favored violet-pink suit as he sat in his lounging chair as he observed the two men before him.

Both of the younger men held their breaths as they awaited their leader's response to their report. While it was well known that Frederick Slade was more lenient compared to previous "Fittest" among the clan, this assignment had still ended in total failure. They had only avoided capture due to Curwen's order providing a distraction to the mages. Roderick gritted his teeth as his thoughts went to the mages. As much as it pained him to admit it, he could actually feel the gap in power between him and the mages as they interfered with their task, and it had made him feel small. As much as he tried not to take such things personally, it still stung to feel outclassed without even a fight.

Next to him Kashir took deep careful breaths to avoid aggravating his injuries, between Curwen's enchanted dagger and the explosive device he had quite a few new scars in the making. Despite this, Roderick knew his partner well enough to know that under most circumstances, Kashir would laugh them off, battle junkie that he was. Now though, even Kashir couldn't affect his usual personality, what with having to report his failure to the Fittest.

As if on cue, Frederick sighed and stood up, causing the young men to tense up. Slowly the man began to pace back and forth. "So, it would seem that the boy had developed some ability and will likely be more able to defend himself in the future. Furthermore, he has armed himself in case of attack and will likely develop other weapons as well, correct?"

Roderick chose to speak up. "Yes Fittest, he has. Although, while I do understand that he may have inherited some technological know-how from his father, I do not understand where the tentacles came from. Is he a mutant like us?" That had confused Roderick, he could have sworn that the boy was not designated as a mutant. Usually, the policy was to try to recruit mutants to bolster their ranks, then execute them if refused.

Frederick paused and thought for a moment. Finally, he responded, "no, the boy and his family do not possess any mutant ancestry to our knowledge."

"Then what is he then," Roderick pressed. At the narrowing of his leader's eyes, Fredrick froze before bowing his head. "M-my apologies, Fittest. I merely wished to satisfy my curiosity. I mean no disrespect. Such a lack of respect will not happen again."

Frederick's stare bore into Roderick for a few moments longer before he nodded. "Good; see that it does to happen again. As for the boy, you do not need to know anything beyond the fact that his family has made enemies of Clan Akkaba some time ago." He sat back down in his chair. "The only thing that you need to do is see to their elimination."

"Will we be set to hunt again, Fittest," Kashir finally asked.

"In due time, however, it would be best to minimize our presence for now. The mages will be on alert for our presence, and we do need to take care of Curwen and his zealots. Teleporting you out of danger is difficult at the best of times; it would no doubt be more troublesome if they had means to hinder spatial manipulation prepared. For now, return to your quarters and wait for further orders. Oh, and Kashir," the two men in the process of leaving paused as Frederick addressed the scarred mutant, "do get those wounds treated, it would not do you any good to have your effectiveness to be compromised."

The scarred mutant nodded before exiting with his fellow clan member. Frederick sighed as he sat back in his chair. 'What a bother.' He had really hoped that he could wipe out the rest of that stain on Clan Akkaba's pride more promptly, but the band of rats were proving quite capable of hiding and scurrying about.

…well, this was definitely one way to get involved in the greater MCU plots. I had not really thought that I would have to worry about this kind of stuff until at least 2008, but I guess this universe felt the need to throw a few curve balls my way. With some caution, I take Wong's hand and he helps me up. "FUCK!" I hiss as pain flares up in my right leg. Looking at it, I can see a rather nasty cut in, probably from when I got sent flying. Although now that I'm looking myself over, I'm a mess. I've got a few tears in my clothes and a few scratches here and there. Of course, my shirt and jacket are completely torn to shreds in the back due to my new appendages. Speaking of which…

My new tentacles move about lazily and holy shit does it feel weird. I really hope I can hide those somehow because they would scream "mutant," which is apparently a thing I am going to have to look out for. Along with mages, which brings me to present company. I turn to Wong, "sir, my night has gone completely insane, I'm attacked by two cults, I have fucking tentacles now, and then there's you guys." I say pointing at him. I know that these guys are the good guys (more or less), but that does not mean I shouldn't be careful.

Wong who had been examining my injuries, looked me in the eye and nods. "That is fair. No doubt, you have questions about who we are and who your attackers were. If I may," he asks, holding up his right hand with a glowing white circle. I look at it warily for a moment, then back at Wong. "What are you gonna do?"

"I merely wish to help with your current condition," the mage responded.

…fuck it, I nod at Wong at who lowers his hand towards my leg, and I feel immediate relief as the cut there begins to seal up. He then lifts his hand up higher over my body and I can actually feel the scratches disappear.

I let out a relived sigh, feeling a lot better. Looking myself over I was in a much better state, compared to before. Well at least I could walk now. It would be really bad if ended up limping back to Rudolph looking like I got into a fight with a wild animal. Absently, one of the tentacles scratched an itch on my back that I had just now become aware of.

I looked at it, fascinated by the appendage. There was so much I needed to look into about those, were there mutants in my family somewhere. In the base MCU, mutants wouldn't become a thing for nearly two decades. But things were obviously different here. Neither Isaac nor I have really noticed mutant activity, so I was pretty much going blind. Maybe I could ask Rudolph about…

"OH SHIT! My uncle! Tentacles! What the hell am I gonna tell him?!"

At that, Wong frowned. "Yes, that will likely be something you would need to conceal. While it is not strictly part of our order's main duties, we have kept an eye on mutant activity, and that is a history rife with conflict and tragedy."

"Ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck! What am I supposed to do?! I can't deal with that crap! I have a lot of shit on my plate already! How the fuck am I supposed to deal with people coming after me because I have a bunch of tentacles sticking out of my ba-" suddenly a very weird sensation shoots up my spine as the tentacles seem get sucked inward to my back with a whiz and a popping sound. Feeling my back, I can't feel anything sticking out, although there is a strange leathery sensation along my spine and lats.

"…well, that is quite convenient." Wong looked at my back in fascination. "Well, as it seems that your tentacles will not be an issue for now, allow me to fix your attire." He makes a gesture with his hand, and another circle of magic appears. From the circle comes… a thread and needle. The needle immediately animated itself and goes over my clothes which quickly begins to repair itself. In a few seconds, my shirt and jacket are repaired and now I don't look like any worse for wear. Huh, well that's handy. As I look myself over some more, I hear sirens in the distance, which would mean more cops are approaching…

"…okay so given that you and those cultists are apparently part of some hidden world moonlighting in the shadows, I'm going to assume that telling the whole truth about what happened here would be problematic."

Wong nodded. "Indeed, it would. While we do not have any strict policies on secrecy, we have found that discretion is the better part of valor. Too many times have people discovered magic throughout history only to take a very dark path and endanger the world. While my order would not bring harm to the local authorities, Clan Akkaba and Isaiah Curwen and his so-called knights would not be so merciful upon discovery."

"So where does that leave me? Those guys were after me to begin with. Am I going to have to worry about a knife in the back?"

Wong went into deep thought as he considered my question. I… was really feeling anxious right now. Rudolph would probably want to just get out of the state and head back home, but those killers would likely track us down and kill us there. As it stood, the Masters of the Mystic Arts would be our best protection until that problem was dealt with.

Looking back up at me, Wong spoke up, "if Clan Akkaba and Curwen are after you, then it is our duty to look after you. As such Master Drumm can arrange for someone to look after you, while we deal with Clan Akkaba and Curwen."

That… that actually made me feel a lot better. "Okay… that… that works, but still, what am I going to tell my uncle?"

"Perhaps we can help with that," Wong replied. I looked at him in confusion at that.

Rudolph ran through the station with no small amount of panic. When he had gotten a call from the police, he had at first been confused, then alarmed when told that his nephew had been near a shootout.

He… he didn't really know how he felt about having to take care of his nephew suddenly. He was still trying to deal with the death of his brother. But he definitely didn't want anything to happen to his nephew. As such, he had probably ran a few lights and nearly caused a few accidents on the road as he rushed to the station.

After shouting at the receptionist demanding to know where Isaac was, he ran in the direction she had pointed out screaming all the way.

"ISAAC! ISAAC! ISAAAAAC!"

"Over here!" Rudolph whipped around at his nephew's voice. Seeing the boy sitting on a bench, relief flooded the man. Taking a breath to relax, Rudolph walked over briskly and looked his nephew over. Seeing nothing out of place, Rudolph frowned as he looked his nephew in the eye. "What the FUCK happened.?!" Isaac opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted. "Excuse me, sir?" Rudolph turned to the new voice, to find himself looking at an older man in a suit. Now that he had Rudolph's attention, the cop continued, "hello, I'm Cpt. Arthur Dolan. I just finished talking with your nephew."

"Yeah, and what the hell happened? I was told about a shoot-out." Rudolph scowled.

"Yes, apparently some cultists got into it with some religious wackjobs and things got violent. Your nephew was nearby when this all went down and had a few close calls far as we could tell."

Rudolph whipped around to Isaac; alarm written all over his face. "Jesus FUCK! Are you… are you okay?"

Isaac ducked his head. "Yeah, I'm… I'm good. A little shaken up, but I'm fine. Although some of my bike got messed up so that's gonna need fixing."

Rudolph frowned. "Your bike?"

Isaac fidgeted a little. "Yeah, some of those guys were throwing out explosives and I got knocked off and I ducked off to side, but my bike got sent flying and it must of hit something."

Suddenly feeling heated and cold at the same time, Rudolph rounded on Cpt. Dolan and snapped the man. "Explosives, here?! How the fuck did anyone manage to slip in explosives here without the alphabet soup knowing about it?! What the fuck are you guys doing?!"

Holding up his hands in placation, Cpt. Dolan tried to calm Rudolph. "Sir let me assure you that we have some of our best looking into this. We are doing all we can to find the people involved in this attack. We care about the people and their safety."

"…um, Rudolph," Isaac interrupted. Turning back to Isaac, Rudolph took in his anxious expression and took a moment to calm down. Once he was relaxed enough, he addressed his nephew; "yeah, what is Isaac?"

"I… was wondering if… if we could head back to the hotel for now… I've been answering questions since I got here and feel kind of tired."

Rudolph turned to Cpt. Dolan, now suddenly feeling exhausted himself. "You mind if I take my nephew back."

Cpt. Dolan nodded at them. "That's fine. We got most of what we could make use of for a preliminary investigation. If we have any more questions we call. Of course, this means that Isaac will have to stay in the area for now."

"Yeah sure, whatever." Rudolph waved back at the captain as he walked away with his nephew.

As they drove back to the hotel, Rudolph couldn't help but glance over at Isaac. The boy looked ready to nod off. Honestly, Rudolph couldn't understand how the boy could be tired after all that. He would probably be unable to sleep for days if he got into a dangerous situation like that.

"…hey," he spoke up, "Isaac… Isaac!"

"Huh! Whuh!" Isaac looked over at him.

"…are… are you gonna be alright?"

"…honestly, I'm not really sure, but right now, I could really use some sleep."

"…yeah, that's fair." Rudolph turned his focus back to the road.

"So, Mr. Drumm, exactly how much of an issue is this going to be? I know you guys are usually prompt at dealing with these kinds of problems, but I really hope that you're on top of things right now! Framing this as a fight between two cults, especially in this political climate is gonna cause people to panic. And panicky people tend to do really dumb things." Cpt. Dolan rocked in chair as he looked the mage over. He really hated it when he had to deal with magical problems.

Daniel Drumm, looking as calm and stoic as ever, was quick to reassure the officer. "Your concerns are well noted and Cpt. Dolan. Rest assured that we will find these men and do what we can to put an end to their machinations. For now, we ask that you trust us as we work."

Dolan sighed at that. There wasn't really much he could do beyond that. As much as it pained him to admit it, this was completely above the NYPD's paygrade. Rubbing his head a bit he pressed on. "Fine I'll leave it to you. But what about the boy, Isaac. These guys are after him, right? What do they want with him?"

Drumm frowned at that question, he had made inquiries about that, but so far, the Ancient One had not been able to discern that. A rare event and a troubling one at that. "So far, we do not know and are looking into it. We will, however, inform you as soon as we can. Now if there is nothing else?" When Dolan shook his head, Dolan nodded. "Very well, I shall take my leave then. Farewell." Activating his sling ring, Drumm created a portal to the New York Sanctum and walked through."

As he watched the portal close, Dolan couldn't help but comment. "God if, I could pull off that trick."