July 10, 2009
The shadows within The Hand's base were deep and deceptive, perfect for concealment but equally dangerous for the unprepared. Kurt Wagner, known to the world as Nightcrawler, crouched silently in a corner, his dark indigo fur blending seamlessly into the gloom. His yellow eyes darted around the room as he surveyed the ornate chamber before him.
Torches lined the stone walls, their flickering flames casting ominous patterns across the ancient carvings etched into the surface. Several robed members of The Hand patrolled the area, their movements precise and deliberate.
Nightcrawler's tail flicked nervously as he counted them. "Five here," he whispered to himself in German. "No match for me. Let's see what secrets you're hiding."
With a faint bamf, he teleported to a ledge overlooking the chamber. From there, he could see a heavy iron door guarded by two imposing figures clad in crimson armor. One of them held a parchment, speaking in hushed tones to the other.
"The Orb of Yamato," Kurt muttered, straining to catch the conversation. "So it is here."
Gathering his courage, he teleported again, this time reappearing directly above the door. Clinging to the wall, he waited for the guards to finish their exchange before silently slipping into the corridor beyond.
The next room was even more elaborate—a sanctum lit by the eerie glow of red lanterns. At its center sat an altar, upon which rested a small, gleaming orb. Its surface swirled with energy, as though alive.
"Got you," Kurt murmured.
He dropped to the floor, landing with feline grace. Approaching the altar cautiously, he reached out to examine the artifact. But the moment his fingers brushed the orb, an alarm resounded throughout the chamber.
"Verdammt!" he cursed, his hand retracting as several hidden doors around the room slid open.
Dozens of ninjas flooded the space, their weapons drawn. Kurt flipped backward, his agility keeping him just out of reach of the first wave. Teleporting in quick bursts, he avoided their strikes, but the sheer numbers were overwhelming.
A throwing star grazed his arm, drawing blood. "This is not good," he muttered, teleporting again to avoid another barrage.
Realizing he couldn't fight his way out, Nightcrawler focused on escape. He teleported to the high ceiling, dodging a flurry of arrows, and used the confusion to slip through a hidden passageway he'd spotted earlier.
Panting heavily, he emerged into the open air atop a nearby building. Behind him, the shouts of The Hand's operatives echoed, but they didn't follow.
Kurt clutched his bleeding arm, grimacing. But despite the close call, he allowed himself a small smile. In his other hand, he held a scroll he had grabbed during the chaos—a map detailing the defenses surrounding the orb.
"Not bad for a warm-up," he said, teleporting away.
The streets erupted in chaos as an explosion shattered the relative stillness of the area. Flames consumed the front of a nondescript warehouse, smoke billowing into the sky. Civilian workers screamed as they ran from the scene, many injured by falling debris. Vehicles screeched to a halt, their drivers abandoning them to flee the destruction.
Emerging from the blaze, Silver Sable led the charge, her team of Iron Wolves flanking her. Her silver armor gleamed under the glow of the fire, her twin pistols drawn. Taskmaster followed close behind, his shield slung on one arm and a blade in the other. Bullseye sauntered out last, casually twirling a throwing knife between his fingers.
"This is it," Silver Sable said, her voice cold and commanding. "The Hand's outpost is inside. No survivors."
Taskmaster grinned beneath his skull-like mask. "Easy payday. Let's make it quick."
Bullseye chuckled darkly. "Quick? Where's the fun in that?" With a flick of his wrist, his knife embedded itself into the shoulder of a fleeing civilian, eliciting a pained scream.
"Focus, Bullseye," Sable snapped. "Collateral damage draws too much attention."
"You hired me to do a job," Bullseye retorted, spreading his arms mockingly. "This is how I work."
Before Silver Sable could respond, ninjas from The Hand emerged from the rubble, their movements swift and silent. They charged the trio, weapons gleaming in the firelight.
"Finally," Taskmaster muttered, stepping forward. With practiced precision, he parried a sword strike, countering with a shield bash that sent the ninja sprawling.
Silver Sable moved like a whirlwind, her pistols blazing. Each shot found its mark, dropping the attackers before they could get close.
Bullseye, grinning like a maniac, hurled a flurry of knives, each one hitting a vital point on his targets. "You call this an army? Pathetic!"
As the mercenaries fought, their disregard for the surrounding area became evident. Stray bullets shattered windows, and the collapsing structure sent flaming debris into nearby streets, igniting parked vehicles. Civilians trapped by the encroaching flames screamed for help.
The distant explosion reached Spider-Man's enhanced senses first. He froze mid-swing, his spider-sense tingling as the sound of chaos carried through the air.
"That's close," he said, landing beside Wolverine and Gambit.
"Smells like trouble," Wolverine growled, his claws extending. "And fire."
Gambit adjusted his bo staff, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the distant plume of smoke. "This ain't no accident, mon ami. That's a war."
Psylocke descended gracefully from a nearby rooftop, her katana in hand. "The Hand?"
Spider-Man shook his head. "No. I'd bet my web-shooters it's Nyoirin's mercenaries."
Faiza, catching up with the group, looked horrified at the destruction. "There are civilians in danger. We have to stop this—now."
Without another word, the team took off, racing toward the scene of destruction. As they neared the site, the chaos became clear. The battle between The Hand and the mercenaries was in full swing, with civilians caught in the crossfire.
Spider-Man swung into the fray first, webbing up a crumbling wall to prevent it from collapsing onto a fleeing family. "This is a disaster zone!" he shouted. "We need to get these people out of here!"
Wolverine charged directly into the battle, his claws slashing through the ninjas of The Hand. "Focus on the fight, Web-Head. These guys won't back down."
Gambit joined him, hurling charged playing cards that exploded on impact, scattering The Hand's forces. "We got this, cher. You handle the civilians!"
Psylocke moved with deadly precision, using her katana to cut through attackers while her telekinetic abilities shielded a nearby group of injured bystanders.
Faiza, meanwhile, used Excalibur's power to clear debris and protect those trapped beneath it. "Keep them off me!" she called out, her focus on stabilizing the injured.
Across the rooftops, Nightcrawler clutched the scroll he had taken from The Hand's base. His breaths came in short bursts as he teleported rapidly, evading the pursuing ninjas.
"I've faced worse," he muttered, though the fatigue in his voice betrayed his confidence.
Glancing back, he saw the flashes of red as his pursuers closed in. He teleported again, appearing on a fire escape several blocks away. For a moment, he allowed himself to breathe, but the distant sounds of chaos drew his attention.
"The city's in flames," he murmured. "I must warn the others. This orb—it's more dangerous than we thought."
With a final deep breath, he vanished and prepared to regroup with his allies and reveal what he had learned.
As Nightcrawler approached the battle, he saw his teammates locked in combat. Psylocke's katana clashed with Taskmaster's shield, Spider-Man swung Bullseye into a lamp post, and Wolverine lunged at Silver Sable, claws sparking against her armored gauntlets.
Teleporting into the fray, Nightcrawler shouted, "I have information! The orb—it's the key to all this!"
His words spurred the team into action, their determination renewed as they fought to bring an end to the chaos engulfing the city.
Bullseye's sharp eyes zeroed in on Nightcrawler as he teleported away from another group of The Hand's ninjas. His lips curled into a sadistic grin.
"That little blue freak just said something important," Bullseye muttered. "Guess that means he's a target worth my time."
With a flick of his wrist, he hurled three knives with pinpoint precision, each aimed to cut off Nightcrawler's escape routes.
Before the blades could find their mark, Gambit's charged cards streaked through the air, detonating mid-flight and deflecting the projectiles. The Cajun smirked, spinning his bo staff.
"Sorry, mon ami," Gambit drawled. "Nightcrawler's off-limits to the likes of you."
Bullseye narrowed his eyes. "You just volunteered to take his place, swamp rat."
With a snarl, Bullseye whipped out a flurry of razor-sharp darts, each one aimed for a vital point. Gambit countered with a series of kinetically charged cards, the ensuing explosions lighting up the battlefield like fireworks.
The two danced across the battlefield, Bullseye's deadly accuracy clashing with Gambit's agility and explosive power. Each attack from Bullseye was a precision strike, while Gambit's responses were fluid and unpredictable, the glow of his cards a constant in the frenzied melee.
Nearby, Spider-Man swung through the thick of the Iron Wolves' ranks, webbing their weapons and tripping them up as they tried to flank Faiza.
"You guys just don't know when to quit!" Spider-Man quipped, shooting webbing at two mercenaries attempting to fire at Faiza.
Faiza, standing her ground, wielded Excalibur defensively, her glowing blade deflecting bullets as she moved to protect an injured civilian. "There are too many of them!" she called out, her voice strained.
"We're working on it!" Spider-Man replied, somersaulting to dodge a burst of gunfire. He shot a web line to yank a rifle out of one Iron Wolf's hands before landing a spinning kick that sent another flying.
Despite their best efforts, the sheer number of Iron Wolves kept them occupied, unable to assist the others in their battles.
In the middle of the chaos, Wolverine and Silver Sable faced off in a brutal, evenly matched struggle. Sable moved with precision, blocking Wolverine's slashing claws with her reinforced gauntlets. Sparks flew with every clash, the sound of metal on metal reverberating around them.
"You're good," Wolverine growled, his eyes narrowing. "But you ain't takin' me down."
Sable smirked, her pistols aimed point-blank at his chest. "We'll see about that."
She fired, the bullets slamming into Wolverine's torso. He stumbled back, growling in pain, but his healing factor already kicked in, closing the wounds before Sable could press the advantage.
"You're gonna regret that," Wolverine snarled, lunging at her again.
The two continued their fierce battle, neither willing to give an inch, their clash threatening to spill into the surrounding area.
On the far side of the battlefield, Taskmaster swung his sword with expert precision, aiming to overpower Psylocke. He moved like a mirror, mimicking her movements and adapting his fighting style to counter hers.
"You're good," Taskmaster admitted, blocking a strike with his shield and countering with a swing of his blade. "But I've fought better."
Psylocke's eyes glowed with determination, her katana shimmering with a faint telekinetic aura. "You haven't fought me before."
She lunged, her movements a seamless blend of Kwannon's lethal ninjutsu and her own refined telekinetic prowess. Her strikes were unpredictable, her blade flowing between physical and psychic-enhanced slashes that kept Taskmaster off balance.
Taskmaster grunted as a telekinetic wave from her katana sent him stumbling. "What the hell is this?"
Psylocke didn't answer, pressing her advantage. She spun, her katana cutting through his defenses. With a final, powerful strike, she disarmed him, sending his sword clattering to the ground.
Taskmaster staggered back, clutching his shield as Psylocke's katana rested inches from his throat.
"Yield," she commanded, her voice calm but firm.
Taskmaster glared at her but wisely took a step back, retreating to the others.
The air was thick with smoke and tension. Fires crackled in the distance as the remaining Iron Wolves regrouped near their leader, Silver Sable. Her silver suit reflected the chaos around her, marred by dirt and soot from the battle. Despite the clear signs of exhaustion, her posture was unwavering, her piercing eyes scanning the battlefield for her scattered team.
With a sharp whistle, she signaled for her mercenaries to fall back. Those who weren't incapacitated began retreating from the scene, dragging their injured comrades with them.
Silver Sable turned to Taskmaster and Bullseye, both catching their breath from their respective fights. "Enough. The hideout is gone. We've done what we came here to do," she said firmly.
Bullseye, still seething from his clash with Gambit, spat to the side. "You sure about that? I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve for these clowns."
"You can play your games another day," Silver Sable snapped, her tone brooking no argument. "The mission is complete. Nyoirin will want a full report before we move forward. Or do you plan on explaining why you ignored orders?"
Taskmaster adjusted his shield, still visibly annoyed by his encounter with Psylocke. "She's right. We've done enough damage here. No point in sticking around to get torn apart."
Bullseye rolled his eyes but ultimately relented, slipping his remaining projectiles back into his belt. "Fine. But next time, I'm taking that blue freak's head as a trophy."
Sable ignored him, turning her attention to the Iron Wolves. "Move out! Leave no trace behind. If you're carrying anything incriminating, ditch it now. We don't need anyone tracking us back to Nyoirin."
The mercenaries quickly obeyed, their movements precise despite the chaos. The injured were loaded into vehicles while others melted into the shadows of the city, disappearing as quickly as they had come.
Silver Sable took one last glance at the smoldering ruins of The Hand's hideout, then back at the scattered heroes still regrouping nearby. She locked eyes with Wolverine, his claws extended, his glare promising future reckoning.
"We'll meet again," she said under her breath, more to herself than to him.
With a nod to Taskmaster and Bullseye, she led her forces away, the mercenaries vanishing into the night like ghosts.
As the battles raged on, Nightcrawler seized the opportunity created by Gambit's duel with Bullseye to teleport to safety. He clutched the critical information about the Orb of Yamato, prepared to deliver it to his team.
Spider-Man, Psylocke, Wolverine, Gambit, and Faiza regrouped, their exhaustion evident but their resolve unshaken.
"This is just the beginning," Spider-Man said, his voice grim. "We've got to end this, or the city won't survive much longer."
Psylocke nodded, her katana still glowing faintly.
Nightcrawler appeared in a puff of sulfurous smoke, slightly disheveled but grinning nonetheless.
"Kurt!" Faiza exclaimed, rushing over to inspect his injuries.
"Relax, my dear doctor," he said, holding up the scroll. "I have what we need. The Orb of Yamato—its location, defenses, everything."
Wolverine raised an eyebrow. "You look like you had a hell of a time."
"I wouldn't call it a vacation," Kurt replied, his tone wry. "But I managed. We need to act quickly. The Hand knows someone has been snooping around."
Betsy stepped forward, her katana in hand, her resolve evident. "Then let's make sure we're ready. They won't stop until they use that orb for something catastrophic."
Spider-Man nodded. "If that's the case, it's time to bring this fight to them."
The group exchanged determined glances, their resolve solidifying as they prepared for the next stage of the battle.
Deep in the heart of a forgotten temple, shrouded by dense jungle and ancient mysticism, Matsu'o Tsurayaba and his lieutenants moved with precision and reverence. The air was heavy with the weight of history, and every step they took echoed with the whispers of those who had perished seeking the Orb of Yamato.
Matsu'o held a scroll in his hands, its brittle parchment inscribed with riddles and instructions left by the artifact's ancient guardians. Beside him, his most trusted lieutenants—Kenji, a master of infiltration; Yumi, an expert in mystical lore; and Ryota, the group's fiercest warrior—stood ready to assist.
"Remember," Matsu'o said, his voice low and commanding. "These trials are designed to test resolve and conviction. We will succeed because we embody discipline and strength. But make no mistake—hesitation will mean death."
The group entered the first chamber, its walls adorned with murals of heroes protecting the weak. A massive stone door loomed at the other end, flanked by statues of benevolent warriors.
"The test of sacrifice," Yumi said, reading the inscription on the floor.
Matsu'o approached the center of the room, where a pedestal held a scale. One side was marked with the kanji for selflessness, the other with ambition. Surrounding the scale were golden offerings—figurines of warriors, riches, and scrolls depicting acts of valor.
Yumi spoke again, her voice calm. "The balance must tip toward ambition. The guardians believed selflessness was a weakness."
Without hesitation, Matsu'o placed a figurine representing a warrior shielding a child onto the ambition side. The scale tipped, and the door creaked open.
"Let them cling to their ideals," Matsu'o muttered, stepping through. "It will be their undoing."
The second chamber was a maze of mirrors, each reflecting images of kindness, unity, and trust. The floor was littered with skeletal remains—previous seekers who had lost their way.
Kenji took the lead, his sharp eyes scanning the mirrored paths. "These mirrors are meant to disorient. The guardians valued collaboration, but here, we trust only ourselves."
Matsu'o nodded. "Destroy what deceives you."
Kenji unsheathed his blade and shattered the first mirror. A faint trail of light appeared on the ground, guiding them forward. They continued breaking mirrors, each shattering sound cutting through the silence, until they reached the exit.
In the final chamber, a great chasm separated them from the altar where the Orb of Yamato rested, glowing faintly with crimson energy. A rope bridge hung precariously, its planks adorned with carvings of figures working together to build a better world.
"The test of unity," Ryota growled.
Matsu'o smirked. "Unity is a crutch for the weak. True power lies in standing alone."
He stepped onto the bridge, ignoring the carvings beneath his feet. The structure trembled, but Matsu'o's unwavering determination carried him across. The others followed, their movements calculated and precise.
Finally, they stood before the Orb of Yamato. Its surface shimmered like liquid fire, radiating power that seemed to beckon to Matsu'o. He extended his hands, his voice a low chant as he completed the incantation from the scroll.
The temple trembled as the Orb acknowledged its new master. A swirling portal of red energy opened behind them, casting an ominous glow over the chamber.
Matsu'o turned to his lieutenants, his face calm but his eyes blazing with triumph. "The guardians believed in principles that hindered their strength. We have proven their foolishness. The power of the Orb belongs to those who will wield it without restraint."
He stepped through the portal, the others following close behind.
"This," he said, gesturing to the artifact, "is the key to our dominance. The heroes of this world fight for ideals that weaken them. But we fight for power, and power alone will decide our fate."
"Prepare yourselves," he said, his voice cold and resolute. "The final act begins now."
The chamber was bathed in an eerie red glow, the ancient walls etched with arcane symbols flickering to life as the Orb of Yamato was placed upon an altar. The artifact pulsed like a living heart, its surface swirling with ethereal mist. Members of The Hand knelt in silent reverence, their heads bowed as Matsu'o Tsurayaba approached the altar, his presence commanding and his expression alight with ambition.
Clad in ceremonial robes trimmed with crimson, Matsu'o raised his arms, his voice cutting through the oppressive silence. "At long last, the Orb of Yamato is ours! The balance of power shifts tonight, and with it, the destiny of The Hand."
The gathered warriors raised their fists, chanting in unison. Their voices reverberated off the stone walls, blending with the hum of the orb's energy.
Matsu'o placed his hands on the orb, a crackling surge of power jolting through him as he did. He gritted his teeth, his body trembling under the strain of the artifact's immense energy. Slowly, the power began to flow into him and the warriors of The Hand. Their bodies glowed faintly, their auras darkened, and their movements became more fluid, more deadly, as the orb's influence infused them with enhanced speed, strength, and agility.
"Behold!" Matsu'o roared, his voice layered with the unnatural resonance of the orb's magic. "The Hand is reborn, unstoppable in its might. No force, no hero, no nation shall stand against us!"
The chamber erupted into triumphant cheers, but Matsu'o's focus turned inward. He closed his eyes, allowing the orb's power to delve deep into his thoughts. Visions of Kwannon surfaced, sharp and vivid: her grace in combat, her steely determination, her unwavering loyalty before her untimely demise.
But now, she was something else.
"She is mine," Matsu'o whispered, his voice low but laced with possessive fervor. "Even within that foreign body, she is still Kwannon. I will reclaim her, reshape her, and restore what was taken from me."
The orb pulsed brighter, as if feeding on his determination. Through the artifact, Matsu'o could sense Psylocke—her unique presence, a blend of her own psyche and Kwannon's lingering essence. She was stronger now, more centered, and that only deepened his resolve.
"She will not escape me," Matsu'o growled, clenching his fist. "Not as long as the Orb of Yamato is in my hands."
One of his lieutenants stepped forward, bowing deeply. "Master, the power you've bestowed upon us will ensure victory. The heroes who oppose us will fall like leaves before a storm."
Matsu'o's lips curled into a dark smile. "Let them come. They'll find not just warriors, but gods awaiting them."
He turned to the gathered warriors of The Hand, his voice rising again. "Tonight, we rise to claim this city, this nation, this world. The Orb of Yamato will forge our path to supremacy. Prepare yourselves. The next battle will be our finest!"
The Hand erupted into a cacophony of cheers and war cries, their amplified powers already taking root as they readied themselves for the confrontation to come.
Matsu'o turned back to the orb, his fingers tracing its surface with reverence. "Psylocke," he muttered, his eyes blazing with obsession. "You may think you've found strength. But the Orb will strip you of it. And when the dust settles, you will kneel at my side, as you were always meant to."
The orb's energy flared in response, casting the chamber in blinding crimson light. The stage was set for the final confrontation, and Matsu'o's ambition threatened to consume everything in its path.
Author's Note: Hello everyone, I hope you all enjoyed the developments this chapter. A lot of action, major developments, and Matsu'o getting the fabled orb that will push the final fight to new heights. The final fight will get climactic for sure and you can all bet on either Spider-Man or Psylocke to be the ones who save the day.
I'm also glad to still get some reviews for everything that passed. It helps me find ways I can improve upon the story and provide more outings that people will hopefully enjoy. It also reminds me that down the line I can find a way to do a sequel story in the future with what I can pick up.
First to answer KaidoFett, I hope I'm offering a satisfactory answer for your question. I guess you could say I'm going for an MCU approach because I want to pick and chose different ideas to make do my own take on and make this romantic scenario work the best way it can. The events depicted are going to make their way through 2009 and then move to new ones from there. And I take it you want to know if Spider-Man will receive the Superior Spider-Man suit? I currently don't have that planned but that's an idea I have in mind for a sequel to this story.
I can also say I'm doing an MCU approach because I think if there are any major plot holes or stories people would like to see approached in Earth-12127, I have a chance to tackle them from different angles. It's one reason I have dates in this story, to make sure i know what events happen over which day so I can determine what else I can fill with characters I haven't tackled. This way if you're hoping for a more fleshed out take on this universe, you can expect more corners to be filled the further down the line we go.
And to answer Musiclover64, I actually managed to find a way to fit X-23 into the story after all and some of the other women you mentioned I actually plan on introducing as well. Making them fight for Peter though might be a bit tricky to do though given my current narrative purposes and how frequently some of the characters show up. On top of that I don't know if I can really pull off a love square and make it feel like a repetitive conflict for readers.
Overall, I'm happy for the suggestions and they made me reconsider some things I did before. And Betsy becoming Captain Britain is probably another detail I'll probably do in a sequel story. If you're wondering why a sequel, it's because I have a general idea of what I want to do for future events in the ending and hope to have a special event set up for the end of 2009. I hope that makes for a worthwhile answer and I hope to hear from you again.
I hope everyone continues to enjoy, I'll be sure to see you all again for the next chapter and the conclusion to Volume 2.