Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel, The Boys or Invincible
Villains show the world what Vought heroes are worth whilst the rebels go to free more heroes from Vought's mind control.
Marvellous World
Under
Villains
Chapter 4
Two months ago
Every night he experienced the nightmare of that day. It was his wife's insistence to go without security. And for a while it felt good, just being a normal person, walking the streets of Hell's Kitchen again, ordering from the hotdog stand of an honest man simply making a living. Even Richard joined them for Coffee, it was a good day. Until the call, when he walked out of the coffee shop for just a few seconds. Then his world ended, a 'fight' between Vought super heroes and robbers. None of it went as they would have scripted. The car was flipped over, rolling uncontrollably towards the coffee shop window. Both his wife and son were crushed underneath it.
But that wasn't how things should be, he dreamed, dreamed of dinner with his wife, of lessons he passed to his son.
"VANESSA!" Wilson lunged forward, his sheets soaked by sweat, muscles tense and squeezing his duvet so hard he could have torn it.
The bald man climbed out of bed, the floor creaking under his weight. His empty apartment, the white of the walls and the organised structure was all familiar but still missing the most important thing. Wilson went to his walk in wardrobe, sliding out his clothes for the day, each outfit meticulously pressed and organised. He buttoned up his shirt, putting the cuff links based on the coin of Julius Caesar. His fine leather shoes were quickly tied before went to the kitchen. Everyday he had an omelette for his breakfast, one he perfectly folded into an exact shape. But he couldn't do it today, the egg shells went into the mixture, the eggs scrambled and when he sat to eat it at his dining table, his eyes lingered over the newspaper article.
"President announces new bill-Economy expected to flourish!"
He looked at Homelander's smiling face and squeezed the edges of his table, his massive hands sent cracks across the roof. The door suddenly opened with no announcement, his assistant walked into the room.
"Mr Fisk, the car is waiting outside, the health agency for the apartment complex cancelled, which leaves you an hour free between the meeting with the art gallery," the man explained.
"Wesley," Wilson Fisk looked up at the man.
Wesley looked at the scrambled eggs, noting the difference in routine. The concern on his face was quickly replaced with a professional gaze.
"Is everything all right Mr Risk?" he asked.
"You are my friend yes?" Fisk asked.
"I am your assistant first Mr Fisk," Wesley said.
"You are my friend, and as my friend if I were to tell you something impossible would you doubt me?" Wilson asked.
"Doubt you? I would question as your friend for your sake, but I would accept what you believe, what is wrong Mr Fisk?" Wesley asked.
"Cancel all of my meetings for the day and get me a scrap of paper, there's things we have to discuss and plans to make," Wilson Fisk said, standing up and glaring at Vought tower from his window view.
Homelander leant against the wall, looking at his phone. With each swipe of his finger and Voogle search, every time he accessed a vlog and every video on V-Tube was calling him out on his plans. Memes were made, comparing his plans to when they hit Wakanda, or the Iraq War good old Dickie Cheney helped justify after the Seven's unfortunate accident on the 11th September. He laughed bitterly when he read the comments sections.
"Leaks within Vought, don't they trust Homelander?"
"If we're relying on Detroit Steel, we're dead already."
"How would Homelander rule over three countries?"
"Dude invading Latveria would be a colossal waste of time."
"Who the fuck is Oh Father?"
"It's Blackspoitation all over again."
"Homelander going to be 'Wakanda Nevering' another country."
"Isn't half of the 'New' Seven old?"
"See, you have been a complete idiot again."
"Take this as a learning experience; you can win back hearts and minds."
"And if not well you've always got the…"
"Stop it," Homelander snarled, looking at his reflection.
"Everything all right?"
The president looked to the side, seeing Invincible leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
"Everything is just fine, we have a leak, there's a fucking journalist stupid enough to report our information, if we do carry out an invasion then our enemies are already prepared and people are going to know what's up if I tell people that that isn't the plan, and the entire launch of our New Seven was a disaster," Homelander explained.
"So an average day in your life then," Invincible shrugged, smirking as Homelander's eyes glowed.
"What do you want?" Homelander asked.
"It seems my little message to the Kree didn't stick, in fact they intend to launch a full scale invasion," Invincible said, walking away from the wall and standing in front of Homelander.
Homelander put a hand through his hair in frustration, rubbing his eyes. When he removed his hand though, his eyes lit up and he smiled.
"This, this is exactly what we need, an alien invasion, perfect," he muttered.
"The Kree are as strong as supes, with the addition of weapons far more powerful than the mere lead launchers you have, their armour too is harder than Kevlar. Their ships can decimate cities from orbit and they have giant robots known as Sentries," Invincible explained.
"We have so many supes now, both from my Earth and brainwashed from this world, the Seven, the Seven are a problem, we're limited in Seven but if you make them 'Unlimited'," Homelander put his hands together like a camera and laughed. "Oh this is good!"
"Are you high on something?" Invincible asked.
"High on opportunity, so many fans now are talking about the practical aspects of super heroes, 'why don't they just call in people they need' no one cares about a roster of characters with arcs they can focus on," Homelander said.
Invincible mouthed 'what the fuck' as Homelander continued.
"It's all about the spectacle, gratuitous cameos, bringing all the characters together for a brand event which shakes the status quo. We'll call it 'Secret Invasion'," Homelander said.
"It isn't going to be secret once they're coming down from the sky," Invincible said.
"Vought is the super power behind super powers in our world, they'll hit us first and then we…"
"I Homelander, I will stop them, the best you can do is put on a show," Invincible said.
"I'm still in charge Invincible," Homelander said, poking the Viltrumite's chest. "I am the one who says what…" Homelander's expression changed as Invincible took his hand.
The president fell to his knees, feeling Invincible compress the nerves and arteries in his hand with a simple squeeze. Like military experts with laymen, able to reduce supposed tough guys to bumbling messes in agony because soft spots were being compressed. Or for another perspective, like what Denzel Washington did to that Mafia guy in Equalizer 3. Homelander didn't want to go any higher than what he thought was the grade six of pain tolerance Invincible had taken him to.
"Stop, STOP! JESUS STOP IT!" Homelander yelled.
"Wow, you're actually calling out to a person you don't believe existed, what next, calling out to god? Or the other guy? Let's make something perfectly clear John," Invincible spoke his name, John, an ordinary and boring name a lot of men had. "You're thrice my age and still not a threat, I was raised with strength, with the belief that the weak must be purged and I believed it so greatly that I wiped out my own species, the Viltrumites, once it was clear that their near extinction was a result of their own weakness. You and I are only working together because I know what is coming, what will consume every world in its path, but I will not become the slave of another, a point of pride you do not share. Your willingness to debase yourself by using that cosmic tool is the only reason I see a use for you, and winning all the time gets boring, this theatre of yours amuses me," Invincible explained.
He finally let Homelander's hand go, turning to walk away. Homelander gripped his shaking hand, breaking down into a laugh that made Invincible stop.
"Hey Invincible, want to be a member of the Seven?" Homelander asked.
Invincible huffed in amusement, rolling his eyes at first before he shrugged his shoulders.
"Okay!"
Upstate
Sven slid his V-card (felt weird for him to call it that) across to the barista. He tilted his head in confusion as the girl, wearing some cosplay version of the super hero Queen Maeve's costume winked at him. Sven arrived back in the states with Cap and Banner, but went a separate way from them. He looked at paper ads on the walls of towns he went through, seeing a version of his masked face drawn by Greg Land, alongside others who opposed Vought and were wanted. Again Greg Land had 'drawn' them, and every woman was drawn with their mouth open, Sven was sure even Greg Land felt awkward about drawing them like that.
"Seriously Reckless, you shouldn't dish it out unless you're willing to take it, Greg Land's the one who still has a job with Marvel, you won't even get close," Deadpool said.
He turned his head, addressing an unseen crowd.
"Oh you thought I wouldn't appear in this story did you? I know, I know, I have yet to make my introduction in Marvellous World, but I'm technically a version that exists in this altered universe. Because even though a certain company that's named with the fourth and third letters of the alphabet has tried to duplicate and homage me, the Boys universe proper hasn't even tried, they know at least that there is no duplicating perfection, despite me actually being the sloppy seconds of a conceptualised Deathstroke story…wait a minute Reckless why are you writing me saying that, I mean it's true but still," Deadpool shook his head, rolling up his mask to sip the 'Black Noir' chocolate flavoured milkshake he ordered.
Sven awkwardly glanced at Deadpool before accepting the fries and soda to go. He walked out to the super hero theme restaurant, filled with workers cosplaying as Vought super heroes.
"Think of the costumes as actually comic accurate," Deadpool said, following behind Sven, looking at a Gossip Girl lookalike in a glowing violet costume. "No, no, we hate the Green Lantern movie, despite what it robbed us of," Deadpool sighed.
The merc with the mouth was dressed in a reverse colour scheme of his usual costume. Primarily black with some red highlights and red circles around his white eyes. Eyes that went low, following the unnatural way his mask allowed him to emote the expressions underneath the fabric.
"Why did you order food just to not eat it?" he asked, walking with Sven to a nearby alleyway.
"I'm scanning the food," Sven said.
Lines glowed across Sven's skin, passing into the chips. His eyes glowed briefly, spotting chemicals within the food that certainly wasn't the kind fast food restaurants usually used with their food.
"Dun, dun, dun, they're drugging the food too, also you don't seem particularly shocked by me being here," Deadpool said.
"You have fourth dimensional awareness Deadpool, I'm surprised you weren't the first to break the brainwashing," Sven said.
"Ha, bitch I wasn't brainwashed, okay kind of was, except in this version I looked like a ripped version of Seth Rogan, sound like him too," Deadpool said, lifting up his mask to show off his viciously scarred and tumour ridden face.
"Why are you in this town specifically?" Sven asked.
"One Reckless wrote me to be here, two, I worked through my old mercenary channels, found out two of Homelander's cock suckers are going to be here to provide an agent with drum roll…X-51's body parts," Deadpool said.
Sven suddenly dropped his fries and drink, grabbing Deadpool by the collar of his suit.
"Ow, ow, skin tight suit remember?"
"What did you say about X-51?" Sven asked.
New York Airport
There was an art to flying in unnoticed, to looking like you belonged on an airfield. Luckily, Eve had changed some of the group's clothing again. Robot had left the group with Monster Girl to take his own path, opting not to use his holographic emitter. Eve herself had tied her hair up and given Mark new clothes.
"Why am I wearing the first outfit Glenn from the Walking Dead wore?" Mark asked.
"Looks good on you," Eve said.
"I swear you're just using this as a chance to make me look more attractive to you aren't you?" Mark asked.
"Don't need to do anything for that," Eve said, and realising what she had said she blushed with Mark.
Kate and Ray rolled their eyes, they were sitting at the table behind Mark and Eve's, awaiting coffee orders. Angstrom and Agent Spider were sat across from them, whilst their seemingly blind team mate had his own table.
"So are we just going to keep calling you Agent Spider?" Kate asked.
"Call me…Daniel, no, Christopher, or Chris if you like," Spider said.
"This world seems to have run short on spider heroes," Ray said.
"And the world is moving on so casually," Angstrom added.
"It isn't as if it was the spider hero they actually care about, I mean there's a lot of us, but the truth is the Multiverse only really cares about two and they're considered THE Spider-men," Chris explained.
"Other than super heroes being a bit more like celebrities on this Earth, what really is going on here?" Mark asked.
"Tingling," Chris muttered.
"I beg your pardon," Kate said.
"Oh sorry, I was trying to sound dramatic, I have a danger sense, when pushed it can be almost precognitive, the problem is it's sometimes tied to just raw instinct. Like an itching feeling, you can spot certain signs, and it just determines a danger from there," Chris explained.
"Basically something is wrong and you can feel it," Eve clarified and Chris nodded. "The truth is guys, the reason I've changed our outfits so often is to test something, or confirm it really. Manipulating molecules, making things seems different in this world than in ours, something in the molecules of the air, I don't usually think about it on our world but here it is different, unnatural in a way, like a burning sensation," Eve dipped her finger into her coffee, turning it into boiling soda.
"Mr Levy, we've been here for a couple of days, it isn't to scout is it?" Mark asked.
"I had to beg Cecil to let this mission happen, the man's got a lot on his plate being the top cop of the world. But the truth is that day at Westview wasn't even the tip of the iceberg, we've been drafted into a war that's taking place on multiple fronts and we don't even know who the main enemy is. We aren't even the only ones fighting, likewise those we consider villains will have their own goals, some even might want to save worlds but at a price we might not be willing to pay," Angstrom explained.
"What's so special about this world?" Ray asked.
"There are certain universal constants, heroes might be similar to one another across different universes but they will always be unique. For example, you Invincible would never exist in a world that has Homelander in it, he would never exist in a world that has Captain America or Spider-man in it," Angstrom explained.
"Which is why this world is wrong," Eve said.
"But getting involved is against Cecil's orders," Ray said.
"The man knows we won't turn our backs," Kate said.
"So it's a test?" Mark asked.
"Everything is a test for men like Cecil," the man with the blindfold said. "Right now he could be determining anyone of three things, our willingness to let another Earth die, our willingness to disobey his orders and whether one of them would be a threat to him," he explained.
"You mean a threat to the world?" Kate asked.
"Men like Cecil would consider them the same thing," the man with the blindfold said.
There was an art to bringing things in undetected. Customs agents were human after all, and human beings had blind spots, they could be paid off, intimidated, whatever it took to fulfil the mission. Even private planes had to go three a degree of security. The Foreigner was known by his name simply because he had no other name. He had no country, no legal name; the FBI couldn't even get a handle on what he looked like. It led to the belief that he was a shape shifter, or a very good makeup artist. Several months ago he had been contacted by his client under the name 'the Rose'. The Rose provided the Foreigner with a standard funding package that was part of the overall contracted pay. Half provided on acceptance of the job for expenses, and the other half upon completion of the job, provided all parties avoided the authorities.
"Welcome home Mr Quesada," the inspector said to him.
"Thank you," the Foreigner smiled through his latest disguise.
Collecting his phone, he extended the cable and ear piece, putting in the music of Beethoven's fifth, and the wireless radio he had connected to the other players arriving.
"Show time people, skull and bone, go to our man at the rental agency, curly red hair and freckles, wait approximately five minutes, copycat once you have given them the keys you will retrieve your next customers rental, a pickup, but you will be delayed by cushion and bolt. Horn and hunter get to the front so that cushion can pick you up, knight and pendulum meet me at the coffee bar, I'll have an unopened breakfast wrap box with me, white lizard I will have ordered the hot chocolate with three sugars," the Foreigner explained.
Meticulous planning, as befitting someone who often took jobs from the Kingpin. Even in an altered world, the Foreigner had no country, but his name was used, by Vought for their soulless films made only to keep hold of an IP. Their latest adaptation of his exploits gave him some kind of broken ability to distort time. It made the Foreigner laugh, he didn't need time manipulation powers to fight, nor did he need to even fight to achieve his objectives. He made his way to the independent café.
"OH! Sorry," the young man he bumped into apologised.
He was an Asian man walking with a red haired woman, bumping into him felt harder than hitting a wall. It was a slight delay in the plan, two seconds out of synch with the rest of the crew. But the mission would go right ahead; the white lizard gave him his drink and unprofessionally winked at him. The Foreigner sat, seeing pendulum and knight coming over to him. He reached into his bag, taking out his note pad and turning to the page where he had drawn his circle, then he took out the rolled up slip of tracing paper he kept in his wallet.
"Three targets," the Foreigner began.
He began recounting the plan that the Kingpin had given them, wondering all the while if any among his crew had regained their memories of the true world, and if any of the players as big as the king had entered the game.
Rebel-Garage
Butcher could feel the heat of the makeshift forge that Stark had created. The man was a damned machine, relentlessly building stuff that couldn't possibly work. He made rifles with stock made from vacuum cleaners or flashlights with big disks on them, some rifles he had even turned into crossbows. Billy didn't even know what the man had done to the grenades, yet the confidence the other supes had in him didn't waver.
"I think you're too harsh Billy, have faith," Billy frowned as he heard the voices again.
"Hey Butcher, you're doing a lot more than hearing things mon ami, at least have the courtoisie to look your culpabilite in the eye eh."
"I get it Butcher, you'd rather have your old army friend egging you on, encouraging you to do what you know deep down is wrong, but listening to him made you fuck up. And because you fucked up, we suffered, my little girl and the woman I loved suffered, everyone suffered so you could get your revenge. So you don't get the voices or the visions that encourage you to be an asshole anymore."
"Is everything all right?"
Billy looked up from his photos. Steve had spoken to him; the man had taken the time to shave and looked at Billy with concern. Butcher though wasn't really looking at Steve; he was looking at the four people behind him. Frenchie and MM, both judgemental, Marvin in particular was furious. Then there was the mute Female, Kimiko, the sadness in her eyes hidden by the killer look she was giving him. And the person Billy found it the most difficult to look at, wee Hughie, judgement, pity, defiance just like the day Billy killed Neumann.
"He should come with us, we'll be seeing doctors after all," Logan said.
"What are you blokes on about?" Butcher asked.
"If we're going to hit Vought then we're going to need more help," Steve said.
"Haven't we got a rage monster over there?" Butcher asked.
"You might want to watch the Hulk tear down Vought tower, but that's one wish that's going to backfire on you, we need a full team," Bruce said. "Which is why I've been working on these emitters," Bruce said.
Butcher huffed, he hadn't even noticed the brown haired man working, he looked as if a stiff breeze could blow him over. Billy still found it hard to believe that the apparently strongest monster on the planet was housed within the little man. The devices Bruce had created looked like miniature torches for checking over eyes.
"Certain stimuli might reverse at least the psychological effects of the brainwashing, it depends on where they are in their lives at the moment," Bruce said.
"So it might not even work, great, we've torn apart all our guns to make toys and the best we've got are fucking flashlights, fanfuckingtastic," Butcher said.
"Well it's better than what you've given them Butcher, what are you providing other than insults?" Hughie asked.
"Remember the last time you went off on your own Butcher? You haven't got any freaky tentacles coming out of your chest to help you this time, you can't do a thing on your own besides piss Homelander off and that isn't enough anymore," MM explained.
"Jarvis, go to the Vought tryouts, see if there's anyone you can help out, Logan you and Bruce get to Janet and Hank," Steve commanded.
"Where will you be going, Wilson or Spector?" Logan asked.
"Empire state hospital, I need to go and see a Doctor," Steve said.
"Right, good luck you lot," Billy huffed.
The 'rebels' left through the front entrance, and left Billy to stand in the garage alone. Except for Tony of course, the inventor banged away at the metal with a hammer, then promptly moving to a soldering iron for something else. The most Butcher had done to assist the 'inventor' was gather parts that had Paladium in it. Butcher was about to say 'fuck it' and leave, his inner voices be damned, until he saw something begin to glow on Tony's work bench. It lit up like nothing Billy had ever seen before, far brighter than any technology on his Earth. But the device was no bigger than an Amazon hub.
"That's one flashy light bulb," Billy said.
"It isn't a light bulb; it's a miniaturised arc reactor, clean, renewable energy," Tony said.
"What could it power?" Billy asked.
Tony gestured to the sheet; Billy lifted it up, his eyes going wide in surprise.
"Did you finish that file I asked for on supes from your world?" Tony asked.
"On my desk there," Billy said.
"And the bottle of acid?"
"I didn't know if you were serious about that," Billy said.
"Look I'm about to do something very risky, that suit isn't finished yet, I need to confirm something and once I do there is no going back, Vought will know that there is a specific group working against them. It's a high risk manoeuvre that probably won't have any reward, but it is something I need to do, can you understand that?" Tony asked.
"Don't say yes, don't say yes, don't say yes!" Hughie said.
"Fucking yeah I do," Billy said.
"FUCK BUTCHER!"
"MERDE!"
Argentina Countryside
Heinrich Werner looked up at the TV, enjoying the sight of the most beautiful woman in the world furthering the cause.
"They try to come across the border, expecting charity, expecting some sort of hand out, the cost of living is high and they arrive here unable to afford our prices, it's only right that they go back," Stormfront was the 'consort' of Homelander, and had been the wife of Frederick Vought.
Werner hated the memory of falling in love with the woman, seeing her on Frederick's arm and feeling jealously. But he liked living, because Werner knew that in a previous life, he, along with many other survivors of the Reich would have been arrested in the post war years. Why the Reich had to fall, he did not know, but still he thanked Homelander for the second chance he had been given. He and his friend Sigmund had also been afforded the benefits of Vought's Compound V, granting them some strength in their old age. They couldn't fight for the Reich as they used to, but they could enjoy watching American society inevitably fall. Stormfront would prevail, she would convince Homelander to take the next logical step for genetic superiority, it was just a matter of waiting.
"Beer please," Werner looked over his shoulder, seeing a new customer.
They were on their way to most places in Austria. The man had a thick build to him despite his age, visible even through the coat he wore. He removed his fedora, revealing long white hair that had not thinned at all. The bar keeper poured the man a pint, and after looking at the fluid, the customer drank with a fond moan.
"German beer?" he asked.
"Of course, Bitburger, do you like it?"
"The best!" the man remarked fondly.
His German was too good for him to be an American. Good, Werner was wary, there were still pockets of people that didn't fall for Vought's ludicrous (even an old Nazi could admit it) attempts to convince the populace that the Holocaust hadn't happened.
"Yes we have it imported," Werner said proudly.
"Truly, what brought you to Argentina?" the man looked towards Werner and Sigmund.
"Oh the weather, I was a pig farmer," Werner said with a laugh.
"I am a tailor, like my father, he made the finest suits in Dusseldorf," Sigmund said.
"My parents were from Dusseldorf," the stranger said, running a hand through his thick white beard, contemplating something before he took another sip.
"Might we have met them in passing?" Sigmund asked.
"Perhaps," the man said.
"What were their names?" Werner asked as the man walked over to them.
"They had no names," he said with a casual tone as he removed his coat and sat. "It was taken from them, by pig farmers," he tapped his glass against Werner's "and tailors!" the man smiled as he tapped his glass against Sigmund's.
Sigmund looked nervously at Werner, who looked down at the Stranger's arm. Accommodating Werner's curiosity, he turned his arm, revealing the numbers tattooed to his wrist. He tilted the glass back, drinking the beer with delight whilst Werner fumbled to his knife. Werner drew the blade and tried to stab the Jew. But he was still drinking as he grabbed Werner's hand. The blade felt heavy in Werner's hand, heavier than it should be. It was a gift from his days in the Hitler Youth Group. The Jew had a strong grip on his wrist, strength enough to pry the blade from Werner's fingers.
"Blood and honour," he read the inscription on the blade and looked at Werner. "Which should I draw first?"
"We only followed orders," Werner said.
"Blood then!" the man said casually, stabbing Werner's hand and pinning him to the table.
Werner screamed, trying to lift his hand, and to pull the dagger away with his free hand. But it was no use, something was keeping the blade there, repelling his other hand like a magnet.
"HELP US!" Sigmund yelled to the bar keep.
The man came out of the back, holding a rifle. He aimed it at the stranger, but suddenly winked. Even Werner, in all his pain was left speechless as he watched a man he had known for years change before his eyes. His bones and skin seemed to shrink, the bones popped and there was a momentary grunt of pain from the barman. Even his clothes changed, the brown shirt and jeans turned white and ran down his thinning legs. Bare shoulders and thighs became exposed, muscular yet elegant, but blue too. His chest split and stretched out, his hair's colour and shape changed and his eyes turned yellow.
She was frighteningly beautiful and held the rifle in her hands with greater skill than Werner had come to expect from the country hick. The red haired, blue skinned woman wore a white dress with white gloves and boots. She pulled the trigger and Sigmund fell, his head split open by the force of the shot.
"What, what are you?" Werner asked.
"Oh yes, you don't remember do you herr Werner," the man spoke in English. "You wouldn't remember the rise of mutant kind because you never witnessed it in your old life, a life cut short when the allies hung you for humanitarian crimes. What do you think Raven, should we honour that timeline?" the man asked.
"We don't have any rope, and we're short on time," she said.
"The copper wiring in this building would suffice, but you're right, but just because it's quick," the man flicked his finger.
And made the blade sweep up Werner's arm, travelling across his shoulder and stop on his back. Werner screamed as his blood spread across the floor. He slipped on the puddle, crawling across the floor to get to his phone. The man sighed and swept back his hair, looking to the woman as she came out of the bar with a bottle of whiskey.
"Most of the profit they made from the bar was being sent overseas, as donations to Godolkin University," Raven said.
"Then that is where we'll go," Werner heard the man say.
"What if we don't find them there, Magneto what if they're all dead?" Raven asked.
Magneto pulled the blade through Werner's back, between the Nazi's buttocks, cutting off his scream through the embarrassment of the killing blow alone. He looked at the blood stained blade, at the Nazi symbology on the hilt.
"We'll kill them all," Magneto said.
Werner felt one last stab of pain before he died; the shit stained blade flew into the back of his head and burst through his mouth.
Unknown
Peter crawled through the vents, feeling the sweat through his costume. With his previous one shredded, he had opted for a more militaristic version of his suit, but colour green and lacking a mask. He looked through the vent and into the corridor, trying to see if there was anything lurking out there. His spider sense gave away no danger though, so slowly he opened the grate and lowered himself to the floor. There was blood everywhere, and burn marks too. Clearly the security team had managed to hit something with their pulse rifles. Peter continued up the corridor, tightening his fists. At any moment, danger could come to him, but he would be ready…
"Peter," he flinched, raising his hands in his web shooting pose.
Once he saw who it was however, Peter sighed in relief. The slightly overweight man had blood on his suit, but he was no threat.
"Agent Philips, thank god you got away," Peter said.
"They were everywhere, my team, Ditz and Timmons, they got dragged away by those things," Philips said.
"Listen, there's still hope okay, my team is on the way, once Homelander and the others arrive we can clear it out," Peter said.
"NO! NO!" Philips turned to Peter, his eyes wide in panic. "You don't understand, that's what they want, they want super heroes Peter, you have to destroy the ship before the rest of the Seven get here be…be…before," the agent trembled.
He clutched his chest, tumbling to the floor. Peter grabbed his shoulders, trying to see if he was all right as the man violently jerked. Philips screamed as something pushed on the walls of his chest. A great bulge rose from his shirt, before bursting out. Peter stepped back, putting his hands to his head as the chest burster screeched.
"Oh god," Peter whispered.
"CUT!"
"What? What was wrong with that?" Peter asked.
The camera stopped rolling, Philips shook his head, standing there with the chest burster moving its mouth.
"Again, seriously, you got one line Parker," the director, Scott Ridley angrily walked onto the set, the walls of the corridor were pulled away to reveal the crew watching.
"I'm sorry, I really am," Peter said.
"You're supposed to be our star Peter, we need to rely on you, even if its just to say one line," Scott said.
"Look Mr Ridley I just have a problem swearing okay," Peter said.
"No, not okay, you have just watched a fucking monster burst out of this guy's chest, your line is to scream 'OH MY FUCKING GOD!' not some half arsed whisper," Scott said.
"People react to fear in a lot of different ways Mr Ridley, a simple scream might do, less is more sometimes," Peter explained.
"Just read the line Parker, and what's with your twitchiness in the scene?" Scott asked.
"It's to imply that my spider sense is going off, the audience will be a little suspicious that I'm not sensing some kind of danger from Agent Philips," Peter explained and Scott rolled his eyes.
"Look, audiences fall into two types, the stupid people who will pay whatever to see whatever we make, and those who will suspend disbelief and just watch the damn film…you know what, I can't do this, we're going to a break people," Scott clapped his hands together, ushering the crew away.
Peter shook his head, making his way over to his chair. He stopped halfway when he saw Firecracker was sitting there, waving to him. Turning around, Peter walked through the crew, making sure he was lost in the bustle of the cameras and costumes. He passed the stunt team, helping one another into their Xenomorph costumes.
"What the hell Parker, why did he cut again?" one of them asked.
"Difference of opinion, sorry guys," Peter said, shooting a web and pulling himself to the ceiling.
This time he really did crawl into the air vents, crawling until he reached the elevator shaft. Peter took a few deep breaths, rubbing his eyes in frustration. Vought bought Disney; ergo they bought the Aliens and Predator franchises, Wonder Comics and Space Wars. Which meant soulless cash grabs and of course crossovers that made no sense. Peter crawled up the elevator shaft, and opened one of the doors.
"Surprise!" Firecracker said.
"SHIT!" Peter yelled, flipping back into the elevator shaft and sticking to the wall across from the door.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to avoid me," she said.
'I wonder if you know better about anything,' Peter thought.
"I'm sorry," he said, flipping across the shaft and landing in the 24th floor corridor.
"You seem nervous, I get it, part of the Seven, it's a big responsibility," Firecracker said.
"Yeah I suppose it is Miss Firecracker," Peter said.
"Please call me Misty, is everything all right Peter, you seem jumpy," she said.
"Jumpy, me, I mean I jump a lot," Peter said and Firecracker giggled, stepping closer to Peter.
"You know Peter if you ever need to you can talk to me, about anything," she said, putting a little emphasis on thing with her southern twang.
"Anythang," she repeated, her hips briefly nudged against Peter's as she reached for his shoulder.
"Thank you for the offer Miss Fire…I mean Miss Misty, I mean Misty," Peter nervously moved, almost spinning around Firecracker to avoid getting touched by her. "But I've got a little time before Mr Ridley chews me out again so I'm just going to read the script for Aliens: Queen's Web and then hopefully I'll talk to the writer's about dialogue that doesn't revolve around swearing to showcase emotions," he explained.
He turned around and began walking down the corridor.
"Oh Peter, there was a reason I came to find you," Firecracker said.
'Oh come on,' Peter groaned.
He imagined himself as Merlin when he was a squirrel (watch any Disney Film on Vought Streaming for 7.99) a red and blue clad squirrel getting his tail grabbed by a big, frisky pink squirrel in Firecracker's costume, even her chittering had a southern drawl.
"Yes Fire…I mean Misty," Peter said.
"Team meeting, up in the conference room," Firecracker said.
"Oh," Peter muttered.
"But first, go to the costume department, they've got a new suit for you to try," she strutted past Peter, winking at him as they crossed.
Peter caught a whiff of her perfume, it was a powerful smell. He shook his head, looking down and seeing despite his personal thoughts on the woman, his body was aroused.
"Oh my fucking god," he whispered.
Vought Con
"Welcome, welcome, to the greatest gathering of super heroes in history, Vought Con, where heroes old and new can gather and show the world why they are super."
Jarvis rolled his eyes as he walked amongst the geeks and masses, fascinated by the larger than life characters. He spotted 'super' humans he had never heard of 'Wrangler-protector of the borders', 'Teen Team', 'Mindwave-the sixth senser' and 'Laddie Rising'. The former marine looked at army recruitment adds that showed Soldier Boy, who he could already tell was a depthless meat head pointing at the crowd with the words 'America doesn't want pussies'. Godolkin University ads also showed the 'Godolkin Seven'. Vought sponsored super heroes; card board cut outs of teenagers who were presented as the protectors of Vought's super hero university.
'Sister Blood' a dark skinned girl with an odd red shirt, it had a circle around her chest window meant to be based on a red blood cell, whilst she also wore a skirt and sleeves on her arms that stopped at her shoulders. One cut out had been split into two, an Asian girl and Asian man, 'Chromo-kid' the same person but in a blue suit with white stripes down the shoulders, white gloves and a domino mask. 'Kid Polarity' was in a blue and silver suit, had what was supposed to be metal marbles floating around him. 'Golden Boy' had a gold suit with muscular padding on his chest, a cloak and a shape on his chest meant to resemble the sun. 'Psionic' was a blonde haired girl in a white suit with a jacket that had fur on the collar. There was a second blonde haired girl 'GI-Ant Girl' and she was in a suit that was meant to be a reverse coloured version of Pym's uniform, but she had a half cowl that exposed her hair. 'Numb-Lad' was a curly haired boy with a physical resemblance to Golden Boy, Jarvis theorised they were brothers, but the younger boy wore a red suit, perhaps meant to obscure blood.
'The opposition,' Jarvis thought.
He looked at the camera, the device the Banner had given him. It was time for him to get to work.
"I know, I know, the whole New Warriors show didn't work out, but hey don't worry, I'm Unstoppable after all, in fact, keep an eye on your games console because the new Vought RiVals game might just surprise you," a brown haired woman with a squirrel's tail said, she wore false buck teeth and a brown leotard with a brown bikini.
"Sounds great, I always thought they should have given the New Warriors a chance, you know, I've always liked your stories, could I get a picture?" Jarvis asked.
"Oh of course, Tippy-Toe and I would, OW, Tippy what has been up with you today?" Doreen Green asked the Squirrel on her shoulder.
"Seriously thank god you came here, I've been trying to get to figure out what's going on for months now," the Squirrel chipped at Jarvis, ripping the ribbon off of his back.
Jarvis puffed his chest out whilst Doreen did the same, he held out his camera, the flash lens hummed before releasing a green flash.
Small amounts of gamma rays swept through Squirrel Girl's body. Compound V cells within her body began to die, as if the Hulk had become microscopic and was smashing any trace of Vought's influence. The green cells ate the compound within the girl, who stumbled away from her stall and rubbed her eyes. Going to the locker room, she ripped the Vought made Leotard and pulled off her false teeth.
"Finally, now let's go and kick ass," Tippy-Toe said as his master walked out of the locker room in a pair of shorts, a striped shirt and her bomber jacket.
"How, welcome, I am here to tell you that Vought it inclusive, it honours the original American people, granting us a part of the great history it is building," Jarvis next moved onto the American Eagle.
Jarvis stood alongside the man, flashing the camera and smiling proudly as Jason Strongblood ripped the feather headdress off, stomping on the costume Vought felt was the style of his people. He stormed out of the convention hall, ripping the rest of his suit off and changing into his shirt, jeans, blue jacket and red gloves. In the army he was part of the 'American Eagles' but he was not Vought's apologist for all the wrongs that had been committed against his ancestors.
The former butler and bodyguard cringed as he stood in front of his next target.
"Hey friend, you strike me as a man with a secret, don't keep it, be PRIDEful, and you will feel a hundred percent happier and remember, therapy and treatment with Vought helps, because you don't have to be straight to be like everyone else," the man with the short shorts, tight red shirt and red Mohawk flexed his muscles.
Demolition Man's stall had only one thing, a gigantic Pride flag on it. Jarvis was as proud as the next man, but he didn't even bother posing with the wrestler and just took the picture. Dennis Dunphy rubbed his eyes, looking at his arm bands, feeling the bald cap on his head with fake hair attached to it. He tore it away, revealing his ginger hair. Months of memories of fighting alongside Captain America began to return, overrunning the memories of being forced to act a particular way, to be 'the token guy' or to convince others that being gay meant behaving in a particular way. He felt more pride for the former memory than he had ever felt for a lifetime of having his sexuality monetised by Vought.
Jarvis had stopped briefly for lunch, taking a hotdog from one of independent stalls. He sipped on his tea as he passed a stall that didn't have visitors on it. There he noticed a blonde haired woman in a domino mask, scarf, red and black costume that showed off way too much leg. Carol Danvers was sick and tired of smiling, and being told to smile. She would smile when she had a reason to. She didn't even understand what was wrong with this attitude, she had been friendly with people, yet people hated her for some reason. It wasn't as if her films were any different than any of the other super heroes. The writer in her wanted to do something different with them, wanted to focus on the finer points of her character, what made her a person more than a supposed icon of feminism. She wanted to stand alongside people, not away from them. If Carol was honest with herself, she honestly wondered if anyone even wanted her to be part of the VCU at this point. It was not wonder she had begun putting some gin in her coffee.
"Something tells me I don't even need to use this thing do I?" Carol raised her head, looking up at the man who put a camera on her table.
"Carol Danvers, United States Air Force, daughter, sister, soldier, warrior and friend, that's who you are," Jarvis said.
"Go away," she muttered.
"Sorry Miss Danvers but I have no time for subtlety," Jarvis raised the camera.
Suddenly, two men came up behind him, grabbing his arms. He dropped the camera, which shattered into pieces when it hit the ground.
"Good job boys, this one's been causing trouble, we can't have that," the man leading them was wearing a black leather coat and an eye patch.
"What the…Samuel L Jackson!" Jarvis remarked in shock, looking at the man.
"I'm not Samuel L Jackson, I'm Nick Mother Fucking Fury!" the man said.
Jarvis stared at the actor; he tried to keep his mouth closed before he burst into laughter.
"Oh, oh you wish," he said, even as the security guards forced him to walk away from Carol.
New York-Harlem
Wilson adjusted his ascot, tapping his cane on the floor as Wesley walked up behind him. The man finished his call and raised his head.
"They are in position and about to carry out the strike," he said.
"Thank you Wesley, and thank you Mr Stokes," Fisk said.
Cornell Stokes walked out of the shadows, huffing as he looked at the man who would have shattered his office desk by just standing on it.
"Always figured the Kingpin would be back in business sooner or later," Cornell, better known on the streets as 'Cottonmouth' remarked.
"Like a bad writer, it seems whoever rewrote reality did not cover every page of it," Fisk said.
"I remembered a time when it was someone who belonged to Harlem getting in the way of business, I'd rather a bullet proof man than a racist 'Eagle'," Cornell sneered, remembering Vought's own Blue Eagle.
He remembered Blue Eagle and the many people in the neighbourhood, who weren't even part of Cornell's businesses who were put in the hospital or morgue, all because their skin colour had apparently warranted suspicion.
"As annoying as the heroes are, their collateral damage has at least not been brought on by incompetence or callousness," Fisk said.
"True, still, I wonder, you aren't trying to bring them back are you?" Cornell asked.
"Of course not, they of course will rally and strike out when they are needed most, in the mean time a message still has to be sent. Vought and its super heroes need to be reminded that they have no idea what real power is, that false heroes are no match for true…villains," Fisk smirked as he spoke.
New York-Vought Pharmaceutical labs
Herman Schultz remembered the world and how it was supposed to be. He remembered that he would get his arse kicked on a regular basis by a kid in a red and blue suit. Well that kid worked for Vought, and a small part of Herman hoped he would respond. He pulled down his hood, feeling the insulated material within his suit. His gauntlets thrummed, not sparked, so often Vought had gotten that wrong about his gauntlets. The security guards walked away from their posts as he approached the south wall, his arms shaking as he prepared himself. Vought thought he was called Shocker because of electricity; the truth is he was called Shocker for another reason.
"Stop, you're not authorised to be here, who are you?" one of the guards asked.
"Just a villain," Shocker smirked underneath his mask.
He threw his fists forward, the vibrational force he gathered within his arms flew forward, knocking back the guards and obliterating the wall behind them. One crack in the wall led to another, bringing down the ceiling on several workers inside. Shocker felt his gauntlets vent the excess heat he had built up, he spoke again, his radio would pick up his commands.
"Shock and awe achieved," he said.
Maxwell Dillon pulled down his cowl, electricity sparking around him. He hovered along the ground, using the electricity he generated to produce a hover affect. With concentration, he altered his physical form, letting himself fade into raw electricity. His job wasn't to destroy, though he would have relished in it. Especially on Vought, who took no responsibility in the death of his sister. Max wondered, was there a way to take back what Vought had done, to restore a world where his sister was alive and still utterly disappointed in him. Then he lost himself in the grid and what his true mission was. Another wave slammed into the Vought building, bringing the ceiling in the break room down on the people inside.
'Adrian would have been preferable, but, he has a chance to be close to his granddaughter in this world,' Herman thought, briefly of another human being.
Then more guards arrived, they drew out their weapons, but were too slow. Shocker fired, the waves striking the guards with such force that their bones shattered. Herman pushed his fists together as his gauntlets vented; he looked over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at the figures emerging from the walls he had blown open. A motorcycle drove towards the lab, increasing its speed with the arrival of the security forces. Chameleon's earlier undercover work confirmed Ironcast, Nubian Prince and his wife Nubia, the woman dressed up as a Dora Milaje as a mockery of the dead warrior order, and other G-men members, the red furred Europo, the cat woman PussPuss and Critter, a man completely covered in hair. Just as the heroes arrived to save the day, the motorcycle came in at top speed. Its rider jumped off, the man on it throwing the spear in his hand. Nubia was hit first, the spear striking her chest and sticking to the wall behind her. The bike rider landed, throwing off his helmet and revealing his dark hair and goatee.
He stood, the lion's mane on his jacket stood out as much as his thick muscles, decorated by claw and bite scars. Kraven removed a pouch from his belt, breathing in yellow fumes before throwing them towards the Vought supes. Nubian Prince was staring at his wife's body; the hallucinogens took hold and made him see crows picking at her corpse. He screamed out, flying up towards her to protect her from the scavengers. In truth he was thrashing at air. Kraven walked past Ironcast, he was someone else's opponent. The Hunter's pupils widened like a predator ready to strike, a smell hit his nostrils and he drew the knife from his belt. There was a sound, like a puff of smoke in a cartoon as Kraven held his knife in a reverse grip and without looking brought the blade around by pulling his arm back.
Europo looked at his chest, seeing the blade had fused to his flesh as he had attempted a surprise attack by teleporting behind Kraven. The G-man trembled, suddenly feeling numb. Kraven let go of the blade, letting the supe fall to the floor and struggle, his hands moving uncertainly over the handle sticking out of where his heart was. His body caught up before his mind, and the mockery of a teleporting mutant Kraven hoped to hunt one day, slumped to the floor. The bestial Critter snarled, the chemicals Kraven had fed him had reduced the man to a snarling animal.
'Good,' Kraven thought.
He hunted animals, drawing his daggers from his waist, he analysed Critter's movements, akin to a lion moving through the grass. Perhaps that was what the hallucinogens had reduced Critter to. Either way Kraven would use that, he moved forward as Ironcast's opponent charged towards him. Security vehicles were toppled, guards were thrown aside and the metal skinned Supe widened his eyes before Rhino's horn slammed into his belly. Alexei pulled his head back, taking off pieces of Ironcast's skin and letting the man drink in the sight of his blood on the floor. Then just as Ironcast screamed in horror, Rhino yelled with fury. He stuck his horn through the hole he had made in Ironcast's belly, and ran, carrying Ironcast, using him as a battering ram to smash through the Vought building, into so many rooms, through people even.
Alexei didn't care, he was just the Rhino now, charging as relentlessly and recklessly as these 'heroes' used their powers. As reckless as they were when the speedster Shockwave had been when he ran through Oksana, Alexei's Oksana. She believed he could be a good man, a reformed man. She was gone because of them. He had put the rhino hide suit on again because of them. It enhanced his muscles, allowing him to lift Ironcast over his head. The man's blood poured over Alexei's face, coating his armour. Ironcast's mouth trembled as Rhino put his hands into his wounds. The sharp edges of the hole in Ironcast's chest did nothing to penetrate the hide over Alexei's hands. He began to pull, not with strength but rage.
"Rage cannot stay inside, it needs to go somewhere, or it becomes a poison," he remembered what Fisk told him when he encouraged him to put the suit back on.
"I find that when this rage cannot stay buried in me for one more second, that a primal scream is the only satisfying release!"
So scream both the Rhino and Kingpin did, a scream so loud and filled with rage that it drowned out Ironcast's agonised scream as Rhino ripped him in two. As Kingpin screamed, he looked at the explosions going off across the city. The Vought-'rehab' centre exploded as one the nurses walked away from it, 'her' face shifting into the white faceless form of Chameleon, the operation's 'white lizard'. Flames consumed the Red River Orphanage, all of the children walked out with glowing yellow eyes, all of them in a trance courtesy of the blonde haired Hypnotia. Tek-Knight's Whitegate prison was in flames too, a winged horse landed on one of the guard towers, on that horse was a knight in blue armour with a purple coat of arms that had a skull and cross bone insignia on it. Dreadknight breathed furiously through his white, skull like helmet, the technology in it made his eyes glow whilst the sharp wings on the side of it added to the intimidating affect. A bullet suddenly ricocheted off of his helmet.
Rangler had moved from protecting the borders, to protecting the prisons. The green clad hero stood on the prison walls, saw an easy shot and took it with his revolver. But his six shooters, were ill maintained antiques that lacked any stopping power. Dreadknight turned his head a few inches, looking towards Rangler.
"Oh shit," the shooter said.
Dreadknight calmly brought up his lance, in actuality a miniaturised rail gun. Rangler began sprinting across the platform, trying to get to the stairs. Without even truly looking, Dreadknight opened the tip of the lance, which sparked with energy.
"Fuck, Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Rangler panicked.
The round ripped through Wrangler's back and out through his chest. He looked down at the hole in his uniform, seeing his burnt flesh and two melted pieces of bone. Dreadknight looked towards one of the guards crawling out of one of the holes. The man was suddenly stabbed through the eyes with a pitchfork, held by the straw and sack wearing Scarecrow. The scarred mobster Jigsaw grabbed a pistol from one of the other guards, mercilessly shooting him in the head. Serpent Society member Puff Adder stretched his arms before he crushed another guard's head. Sand leaked out of one of the cells, growing and taking shape into the snarling face of Flint Marko.
The Foreigner watched the smoke rising from Whitegate Island with his binoculars. He looked at his phone, seeing a ping on it.
"Here it is, the dirt," he smiled slightly; Electro had done his job well.
Hacking Vought's systems had been child's play, as easy for the villains as Kraven killing Critter and PussPuss. Nubian Prince yelled in fury, flying at the hunter, who simply side stepped, cutting the man across his side with his knife.
"My wife," Nubian Prince snarled.
"Simple prey," Kraven said.
Nubian Prince threw his fist at Kraven, who ducked and dragged his knife across Nubian Prince's wrist. The Vought super hero looked at the blood coming out of his wrist in shock.
"How," he gasped.
"This belonged to true royalty, a Wakandan king," Kraven said.
He cut Nubian Prince's arm, and when Nubian Prince tried to grab him by the throat, Kraven leant back and cut off his fingers. The Vought super hero's earlier rage faded as he stepped away from Kraven in horror.
"You're, you're just an ordinary man, how?" he demanded.
"Ordinary yes, but even a rat's bite can be fatal, I thought Vought super heroes would be a challenge, the rat would have offered more," Kraven said.
Nubian Prince yelled thrashing his arms at Kraven. The Hunter dodged each punch, sweeping his blade through his opponent's hips, the side of his chest, his thighs, back, shoulders and arms. Nubian Prince's vision blurred, blood loss began to take hold before he slammed headfirst onto the floor. Electro appeared in a spark of electricity, giving Shocker a thumb up.
"We should leave before the heroes show up," Max said.
Rhino snorted whilst Shocker huffed.
"And what are those now?"
Empire State Hospital
"Dr Blake to ER, Doctor Blake to ER!"
The announcement of another patient tore Donald away from his break. He bounded down the corridor, making his way through several patients and interns he gave recommendations to before he reached the emergency room. A young woman was crying over a boy on a stretcher, several nurses had given the boy bandages and others were providing emotional support to the mother.
"What happened?" he asked.
"Electrocution, third degree burns and blunt force trauma from a hammer," Nurse Temple explained.
"A hammer?" Donald looked at the young woman, every bit the medical expert he was, in surprise.
"Vikor, Vikor," the mother spluttered.
Donald looked to the woman for more details. She had saliva hanging out of her nose, lingering on her shaking hands whilst her mouth could barely scream anymore.
"The Vought super hero, he wanted to see him fight, wanted to watch his favourite hero win but, the hammer, it came through the building, it him my boy, my baby!" the mother fell to her knees and screamed.
"Get an IV going, antibiotics, stabilise him and then clean the wounds, nothing from the Vought collection," Donald said.
"But sir…"
Donald grabbed his pen and notepad, furiously writing down the things he needed.
"Here, get these, we are not to use the medicine provided by Vought even if we have to use a mortar and herbs do you understand?" Donald asked.
"Crystal sir," Claire nodded her head.
She accepted the order without protest because she too had a suspicion about Vought. Donald moved through his shifts, forgoing Vought recommended treatments for more natural antibiotics, even getting his interns to go to an apothecary down the street, on their breaks. He went into the pharmacy and looked over the Vought antibiotics, even their nappy rash ointments.
"Blake, what the hell are you doing?" Dr Nicodemus West came to him in shock.
"Look at the back, the ingredients," he said.
West looked over a box of pills, reading the label and the details on it. He squinted, shaking his head in confusion.
"I don't understand," West said.
"Exactly, none of it makes any sense," Donald snarled.
He took a deep breath, trying to slow his breathing since he was doing so heavily in anger. There was a crack of thunder that was heard even on the lower floors of the hospital. Blake though closed his eyes and calmed his heart, thinking of the patients he was responsible for, thinking of all he had to do. When it was time for another break, he went up to the roof and looked up at the clouds. The forecast was for clear skies, but the weather was chaotic, rain and thunder clouds were gathering.
"You've started noticing haven't you?" Donald didn't even notice he was alone until the intruder spoke.
A blonde haired man in a jacket that barely hid the white star on his shirt.
"Noticing what?" Donald asked.
"Things in your memory, in what you can recall about history and about yourself, but more than that you're starting to notice little details. Like the chemicals and formulas written on the back of the Vought medicine boxes, random elements, some that aren't even related to the medical field," the intruder explained.
"Like a poor researched medical drama," Donald scoffed bitterly.
"Exactly," the man said.
Exactly like West noticed. Donald looked at the stranger and frowned.
"I don't know you," he said.
"It's me Steve, it would be difficult for us to call one another friend's but there is an aspect of you that would call me that. But I know you Donald, I know you were discharged from the army after you were wounded, that you were bitter, even gained some weight, but then you met your wife Jane Foster and you lived happily until she was diagnosed with cancer," Steve explained.
"All things you could find by googling my name," Donald said.
"I know that the thunder feels familiar to you, that when you were a kid you dreamed of Viking myths, you're not just a Doctor Blake, you are my friend and if Tony were here he'd tell you that there's no chance of us stopping Vought without you," Steve stated.
"I wish I knew Tony Stark," Donald huffed.
"You assume I was talking about Tony Stark," Steve pointed out.
"Just go, leave me alone," Donald said with water in his eyes.
"I know that you never felt worthy of her, of Jane, or of Mjol…"
"GO!" Blake suddenly yelled.
Electricity crackled in his eyes, and the thunder raged above him. Steve removed the device Banner had made, and crushed it beneath his boot.
"I know you and you are beginning to know what the truth is Blake, as well as how much we need you. I have faith in you my friend," Steve said as he walked past Blake.
Blake gripped his walking stick tightly, looking at it as if it was more weapon than tool. He raised it over his head, tempted for a moment to slam it to the ground as the lightning flared in the sky. But he stopped himself, and he did not know why, a compulsion within his brain that told him to be like everyone else.
Then he heard a voice and it whispered to him 'nay, nay, raise your head up high and fight warrior'. When Donald Blake opened his eyes, the lightning had stopped and the skies cleared.
Next Chapter 5: Invasion
Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
Next time on Marvellous World Homelander hopes to avoid the fallout of his failures with a full scale alien invasion. Tony Stark confronts James Rhodes over Homelander's plans, but not everything may be as it appears. Mark and his friends decide that they can't just watch anymore as more heroes answer the call and regain their identities.