Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Most teens who just graduated high school would be sleeping in, or waking up like regular as if they were still going to school. Peter falls under the category of waking up normally as if he’s getting ready for school but he forgot one major thing, maybe three, but one major thing, he forgot that he graduated high school a couple of months ago. The other two things would be that he forgot he got bitten by a radioactive spider and now is Spider-Man, the other thing is that he now lives in the damn Avengers Compound in upstate New York, which apparently he is still getting used to. Peter took a minute to readjust to his surroundings as looks around. His room was still feeling pretty plain but he did have some posters up, ranging from star wars to some random thing about science. A couple of clothes litter the floor, his desk where it houses some of his old notebooks, research papers he tends to look back on and wonder why he got a “C” on that one certain paper from his English paper, and his laptop. On the far right was the door to the walk-in closet, which he’s still shocked that he has, and a couple of cabinets outside of the closet.

After one last survey of the room, he finally decides to get up and get his day going. “Guess I’ll get up”, muttering under his breath. He went to grab his phone to check the time, which to his surprise was 7:45. An amused ‘hmph’ later and he’s on the move, dragging his feet towards his own bathroom to prepare to look somewhat decent for the day. 10 minutes go by shockingly fast and now he moves on to changing. It was the middle of August which means it’s not too cold but not too hot either so to be safe he just threw on some sweats and a loose fit shirt, which was a bit oversized but really didn’t mind it. One look in the mirror later to see if he looks alive or a walking corpse, he’s on his way to the door to see if the others are awake when a sudden noise and a little bit of glass shattering behind him halted him. He locked around to see what was dropped, in confusion, because the AC wasn’t on, nor was his window open to let air in, so there was no wind in his room to knock whatever it was. He looked to his nightstand, nothing, bathroom, nothing, the cabinets near the closet, nothing.

“What the…oh.” his eyes finally land on his desk’s left side where he sees a framed picture on the floor. While being mindful of trying not to step on glass, he walked towards his desk to grab the photo and put it back on his desk.While grabbing it, he glanced at the  photo and a smile was slowly forming on his face, remembering the memory in this photo. It was a picture that was taken during a field trip to the Statue of Liberty, it was during his junior year of high school. Unlike his trip to Washington D.C, this trip was calm, normal even. A quick scan on where there was glass missing on the frame and that when Peter locked eyes on them. It was his new friend from California. Peter couldn’t even begin to describe how they made him feel, and it wasn’t  just Peter that felt different with them, Ned and MJ would laugh harder and simply just be more around them, but for Peter it was different. It wasn’t sexual or anything like that, for Peter, each time they would make him laugh, give him some sort of reassurance about an upcoming quiz, or even a hug, it felt alive, and charged with love that only siblings have towards each other. Looking back to the picture it was them four posing in front of the base of the statue making. A simple picture but one that holds a special place in his heart and mind. “Man, where did you go?” The words were barely above a whisper, but only loud enough for him.
—------
The kitchen was well alive just was any other day. Sam is usually the one making breakfast but today it’s both Sam and Steve behind the stoves, flipping pancakes and making scrambled eggs, heating strips of bacon and all the necessities for a good o’ classic American breakfast. Natasha, Clint, and Vision were near the kitchen island discussing on how Vision “eats”. Wanda and Pietro were already sitting at the table. Wanda was sipping on some sort of tea while Pietro was just scrolling on his phone mindlessly when Wanda, with a flick of her wrist, sent a little huff of her magic to her twin’s hands which caused him to drop his phone. With a confused look, he turns to his sister, “Exactly what was that for?”

Smiling while simply responding with a “Just cause” a low chuckle leaves her mouth before taking another sip of tea. ”Now go help and set up the table.”

“I was already sitting down” while getting up and doing exactly what she said to do. Despite being the older twin, by 12 minutes, she was always the more mature sibling, the one that acted more responsible and in some cases, was the one giving HIM orders out in the field. It was a weird dynamic; they were no strangers to being weird. The rest of the team flocks to the table as Pietro is setting up plates and glasses for them. Peter takes up the seat on the left of Wanda, and the right of Steve. It’s still strange for Peter to be surrounded by actual heroes. He still sees himself as the friendly neighborhood Spider-man, but now, it’s more than the neighborhood.

It’s the whole world now, because he’s an Avenger now, officially anyways.
“Mornin’ Peter, did you sleep well?” Steve had said to Peter. With a simple “yeah” from him, Steve took it and didn’t push any further, though he could see it in the young man’s eyes that something troubled him, despite that it’s not even mid-day, it did worry Steve a little bit, but still decided to not push it and accept Peter’s answer.

Back onto Peter, he was now grabbing what was calling him to get devoured. If someone was to ask if he was a ‘picky eater’, he would say no, which was true in a sense but it did seem like he was a picky eater. It’s not that he is, it’s just that he eats what he likes, there’s no harm in that right?

Three pancakes, a decent serving of scrambled eggs and One strip of bacon, which tasted a little funky but he had worse before. As the conversations from the other members die down and the movement and sounds of utensils and glass clicking becomes more and more alive, Tony and Bruce finally make their appearance as they walk down the hallway that leads to their lab, or at least one of the labs, how many labs do they even need?

“I mean seriously, you're not even a little interested in learning some combat moves? Wrestling? Muay-Thai? Not even boxing?” Tony asking away, wondering why Banner doesn’t learn some fight styles. Doesn’t hurt to know hell, it might even help the Hulk out, if for some reason he needs to roundhouse kick some person to the wall.

“I uhhhh…rather have The Other Guy do all the heavy hitting and stuff like that, besides I’m a Doctor, would go against that title.”

“Yeah…but their bad guys, they 100% deserve it” Tony clarified. Bruce shoots him a “really?” look at Tony. “What? Ok they 70% deserve it, but still!”

“You boys done?” Natasha smirked as she was lightly sipping down her coffee. At this point everyone was just looking at the two geniuses where Tony went to grab a cup from the cabinets and pour himself coffee and possibly down it in 4 seconds. While Bruce, bless his heart, awkwardly went to do that same but instead of coffee, opted for water. “Any news from Friday?”

Sighing before Tony answered Natasha's question, “Nope, She’s still digitizing the files from the last base we snuffed out but so far, she is piecing together that there’s at least 6 more hidden bases, majority being in the States.” Their last mission was a HYDRA base that was in the Eastern side of Ohio in deep forestation. Though abandoned, It still took them a while to scout the whole base and find the physical files.

“She is able to locate in what States these bases are in?” Steve, whose tone is now more of a soldier, then one of a friend. “The ones we discovered so far have been near D.C, we can assume the next ones are in, or near D.C.”

Bruce now joins in the conversation, giving his insight on the new batches of data. “I reviewed the parts that have been digitized and organized, some are just their stored data and records during their time as SHIELD, but some talk about…someone.”

That sure made everyone, even Vision, raise their brows.

“Someone?” Steve repeated the Doctor’s last words. Steve, silently praying in his head, hopes it’s not another Winter Soldier situation. The thought of there being another secret Winter Soldier out there after the discovery of the five dead ones in Siberia back in 2016, during their chase to find Zemo, and protecting Bucky. There’s a familiar anger that slowly rises in Steve's stomach. The thought of someone’s mind being shattered and weaponized by the corrupted hands of HYDRA saddens him, but also fuels him. Worst case there if there is someone that was like Bucky, Steve will be damned if he just stands there and not run, hell, dart his way to them and bring them back to the world.
 
He simply can’t let another person lost to HYDRA wander this Earth not as an Asset, but as a person restored to their true self. If they still can.

The thought of the HYRDA bases, Bucky, and this someone, is quickly dissolved as Friday chimes in through the floor, alerting Steve and the rest of the Avengers. “Good Morning Avengers, there has been a new development on the HYDRA bases.”

“Hit us Friday, what you got?” Tony replied, who just looks like they choked up a yawn mid sentence.

“With the completion of the date and information from the base in Ohio now sorted, I’ve found a set of coordinates to what appears to be a HYRDA base located near Fairbanks, Alaska, more accurately, the North Star Borough.”

“Ain’t a borough one of those weird towns with their own government?” Clint, shockingly, had asked.

Sam and Natasha looked at him, both giving him a “are you deadass right now?” look, where he simply responded with a “What?” Natasha just rolled her eyes in both amusement and somewhat annoyance. Sam just sucked in his teeth.

“Yes Agent Barton, it is.” Friday acknowledged his question. “The coordinates land on the borough but…”

Everyone's eyes and ears perked up to the but.

“...there is a small detection of radiation in the area.”

Radiation? Fairbanks was known for its “Breathtaking” view of the Canadian countryside and its history of the Gold Rush. not radiation.

“Radiation? How?” Wanda inquired to the AI. Pietro and Peter both had shared that same look that Wanda had, shocked and confusion. How can a place like that have radiation?

“When coordinates were entered on the map, the Personal-Radiation and Radon Detectors spiked, with the Radon having a higher spike by 16.9%.” Friday then projected a map of the area, and marked where the radon gas was more concentrated. The gas has been identified as Radon-220 and was littering the same area that would be the base entrance.

They got what they wanted, a HYDRA base, but one that has radiation out of all things? Tony and Dr. Banner share a look between each other, trying to figure out how to avoid exposure for, well everyone. Sam, Clint, and Natasha all looked to each other with a look that signals that they're still processing the new information. Vision is, being Vision, Wanda, Peter, and Peitro are trying to look unphased, reality is, they're just as confused as the rest of the team.

Steve already has his mind made up.

—------

One Day later

The plan was set, after Friday’s news about the HYRDA base and the radiation that is around it from yesterday’s breakfast. Tony, Bruce, Vision and Steve were already making headway on how to tackle this base and secure those files, and/or now person or Winter Soldier. Tony proposes that he upgrades his suit to fit a Geiger counter, if they decide that this becomes a solo op, he can easily secure the files and jet out of their if it mission goes south, Bruce and Steve were between making at least 2 specialized masks to filter out the gas them from gas and making a mask for all of them. Friday decided for them when she alerted them that the radiation in the area is slowly increasing somehow. Tony asked how but the AI couldn’t find the source, nor see any logical way, but it was. Vision finally spoke up, ultimately saying only a couple of the Avengers could enter, while the rest stayed onboard the quinjet.

Steve at first disagreed, sharing that since this is HYDRA related, they shouldn’t take that risk of only allowing a few to enter with no back-up on standby. Vision reassured the Captain by breaking down the team that would be sent in. It would be Tony, Vision himself, Wanda is able to put a barrier between herself and the gas, and Steve with a specialized mask. The other mask will be with Pietro due to his ability, he can replace one of the members on the other team in case they are down or if aid is needed. Steve, who is a little more relaxed about this whole ordeal, still feels on the fence about this. He’s on the fence that Wanda is going to be joining him on this. He knows that she can hold her own, she’s proven it on multiple occasions. But he still sees that little girl that was experimented on by Stryker. The little girl that had to fight off Ultron and his machine army in her own home country.

He still sees her, not the woman that Wanda grew up to be.

The mission briefing went by fairly quicker than expected. Everyone argued on how it would go down. Tony, Wanda, Vision, and Steve will be the ones on the ground, with Pietro on standby to cover or help them. They would enter the base, scout quickly, avoid any high spikes of the radioactive gas, locate a server room or room with the files, secure, and exfil out. Sounded simple enough to them.

Soon enough, they’ll learn how quick shit can turn South fast.
—------
It was mid-day in the Canadian countryside when the quinjet descended from the clouds, using them as a natural camouflage, and landed outside the contaminated air. Masks were being adjusted, bones were popping, Chaos Magic was being conjured, and a Vibranium shield getting strapped a little more securely, they were on foot. “Let’s make this quick” Captain America spoke on comms. “Watch our backs.”

“You got it Cap.” Hawkeye responded, already stationed near a few screens, watching both Iron Man’s and Captain America’s oxygen levels.

The Captain nods in response, now looking towards Quicksilver. “Kid, you're on stand-by.”

“Just say the word Grandpa, and I’ll be there.” The cocky response earned him a little elbow kick from his twin. Laughing the gesture off, he says in a more serious tone, “be safe.”

“I will.” the young Scarlet Witch stated, now putting her twin brother in a little bit more of a calm state of mind. 

A three minute walk later and they are now making ground inside the base. The Gesiger went off a few times but never went above 4 clicks. Friday informs Iron Man that the base has two levels that go underground. Now that was definitely weird. Most HYDRA bases are a literal maze at some points. This base only having two levels is setting off a few red flags in the man’s head, but he’s trying to stay positive. “Heads up, Friday says there are some levels below us, two.” he announced.
“Understood Stark. Barton, how we lookin’ up there?”

“All good Cap, nothing outta the blue yet.”

Wanda was feeling a little uneasy, which is normal for her, especially for these types of missions, but this feeling was different. She kept feeling someone was watching her from the shadows, no, in the shadows, like someone was watching her in the shadows. That feeling was only amplifying more and more as they went deeper in the base. Vision, unphased and machined expressed Vision, was doing more double takes sometimes, which he usually doesn’t do often. Steve always had a weird feeling in these HYRDA bases, all the way since his time during the war, up to the present time. For the world these bases were long forgotten decades ago, for him it only feels like a couple of years.

They round the corner when they find the server room, and they quickly get to work. Six hard drives, it was Tony’s idea, and with most being at 74% percent filled, things were looking promising. No guards, no sudden cave ins, and certainly no signs of this unaccounted Winter Soldier, things were smooth sailin-

Clickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclick-

The Geisger Counter just started spiking out of nowhere. Heads turn to Iron Man as he mutters “the hell?” onto the comms.

“Stark?” Captain America called out to a somewhat panicked Iron Man.

“I don’t know Rogers!” was all he was able to say, before the Counter just broke. Not malfunction, not glitch out, broke. “Friday, find out why that just happened.”

“Yes Boss.”

On comms, The Captain calls out for updates with the others “Barton, anything new with you guys?”

“No, everything has been the same. Why?” Barton replied to the Captain. Both Falcon and Black Widow share a concerned look with each other, while Spider-man, Quicksilver, and Dr. Banner listen on the comms.

“Stark’s Gesiger started going off and just broke down.” was all Rogers was able to relay to the others before there was a large crash outside the server room. Arm cannons raised and fists clinched, they all shared a look between each other before the Captain gave a simple order. “Stay sharp, I’ll lead.”

Falling in some sort of formation. The Captain with his shield raised, Iron man’s arms ready to take aim on any movement, The Witch’s hands poised to launch a volley of energy or to reinforce her own barrier, With Vision floating right behind her with the Mind Stone’s at the ready. They scanned the hallway for anything new but saw nothing new. That was until they heard something new. A voice

Though muffled there was no denying it.

Someone was here down with them.

They were quick to locate where this new voice was coming from. End of the hall, door on the right. The room was bigger than the rest, they assumed this was the control room. Monitors were plastered everywhere. With computers and desks taking up most of the left side. The right side seemed like some sort of storage, with large wooden boxes decorating one corner and smaller metal ones in the other. Right down the middle was what really got their attention. Avoid making direct contact with this person, the Captain signals to the rest to duck and stay hidden. Their person was HYDRA already, given away by his outfit, but something was off. His uniform was old, not in the sense that it was worn-out or anything like that, old as in his uniform had the resemblance of those mostly worn during the Captain’s time, during the war, during the prime era of HYDRA and rise of the Red Skull. Captain America, the stoic and symbol of freedom Captain America, was now feeling very uneasy. What the hell? Is what came to mind before the man spoke.

“Please! Why was I brought here?!” The German accent basically confirmed he’s part of HYDRA, or was HYDRA.

He was talking to someone

The Captain and Iron Man share a confused look between each other before he blurted out again.

“This ISN’T my HYDRA! We would NEVER set up strongholds in America! What is this trick!?”

“There is no trick in play Ambassador;we can see your confusion, it is amusing.”

A voice, or voices? Voices were coming from somewhere in the room when a figure appeared before the HYRDA Ambassador? From what the Captain can remember, HYDRA didn’t have Ambassadors.

The stranger was right above the man, floating a few feet above him. The room was making it hard to see anything but it would appear that this person was wearing some sort of cloak mixed with some sort of poncho. Their legs were visible, the right leg appeared to be fully black, accompanied by some white stripe traveling upwards, the other leg seemed normal. So they were human…ish. The poncho was white and black and in the middle some accents of blue were scattered on it, not in some sort of pattern. Their eyes…

Their eyes were something else

They were blue, not like Roger’s eyes, they were glowing. Their glow could rival Wanda’s eyes whenever she reaches her limit. The blue took the shape of what one would assume would be the outline of the iris, but the rest of their eye was pure black. Pure black eyes and a blue ring that acted as their iris. But they still looked human.

“We have seen what you can, and will be. Be ours” the Stranger said. The words came from them, but their mouth didn’t even move, their eyes didn’t even blink, but they definitely just spoke to the man.

“Ne..NEIN! I will never be like that you dämon!”

“Judgement has been made;we have made an error. We thought you were worthy of agency.”

“We were wrong.”

The man, now scared beyond death, stumbles back a few steps.

The stranger above him, raised a single arm to the man, expanding their fingers outwards. The only thing he can do is lift his head to them and pray. What happened next only took 3 seconds, start to end. One step backwards, and a set of arms come from the right, another set from the left. They were emerging from the shadows of the nearby desk and floor. The hands made contact with his legs and the fingers wrapped around them, and burrow, down to the very bones of his legs. In a single yelp of pain and confusion he looked down to his sides to see what was the cause of the sudden pain. He couldn’t even let out a full scream, his final scream. In one single tug from both sides. The man’s body split in half, every bone, every fiber, every atom that made up his body was being uncomfortably torn apart. The arms retrieved back into shadows, holding their side of the man still.

"Captain, make yourself known.”

How they knew about his presence doesn’t matter anymore. Without even knowing, he stood up from his crouched position and made himself known.

“What did you do that man?”

“Judgement”

“Judgement?” he replied. Behind him, Iron Man was repositioning himself. Wanda was moving to get a clear view of this figure, and Vision stood in the same spot.

“We sought to believe that Ambassador was ready to become more; the results were disappointing.”

“So you killed him?” 

“Not kill, we made him into something more grander, he was fated to be grand.”

“We ask, why is the Captain here, does he seek an audience?”

“Not really my type of audience”

“You will seek audience with us soon, this is unscheduled.”

“Unscheduled?” he tightens his grip on his shield. I got a bad feeling about this

“Introduction is a later scene, we-” they abruptly halted their words. The stranger is now shaking in place. Their arms are now tucking at invisible chains, their head swaying back and forth like trying to avoid an object flying at them. They release a few grunts and one scream only before one voice speaks. “I’m not neon, wher…where am I?”

Captain America drops his guard at the sudden scared voice.

It’s a kid

“What’s your name?” the Captain questioned the figure.

“I…I don’t…can’t remember…they're not letting me remember" their mouth is actually moving now. This person is human but whatever was speaking a moment ago, was something else. “...my mind, cracked, a shell, smothered!. I’m being used…as…a begrudging implement, their Weapon.”  Those last words came out of them, filled with fear, like they’re already this thing, this Weapon.

The rest came out of hiding, trying to take in what was happening. Tony's face spelled disturbed across it. Who can do this to a kid? This whole ordeal was making his blood heat up. This kid looked the same age as Peter. Vision is trying to calculate exactly what the actual fuck was happening in front of him. 

Wanda…Is trying her damn hardest. That feeling earlier is back in full swing, it’s spiraling all around her. Under her skin, her mind, even in her bones. This feeling was something she’s never felt. This dread was growing on her, and she was resisting the urge to rip it out of her.

“I don’t…I don’t know how long I can hold cont…control but listen, please…” All ears were on them. They could visibly see the stranger fighting back against…whatever the hell is holding them as The Weapon, trying to retake their body. Their eyes changing back and forth to that eerie blue, to brown. 

Their regular eye color is brown. The Captain remembers this small detail.

“Theses…things let me see into a future…When they allow me to.” their choking back a grunt, teeth barring down on each other, like knives just found contact in  them and are being twisted. “You-you all have about 5 minutes befo-AAAAHHHHHH!” That scream made Iron Man jump right into action.

“Before what?” he asked

“Before they make me destroy this place.” one last yelp and half a scream, their eyes are back to blue. The ring around their irises is now violently pulsing, their face is back to being emotionless, hallowed, dead.

The stranger is pulled back to the center, where they originally were before they granted that man his fate. The way their body moved back to that position was…uncanny, like a ragdoll. The wall behind them was becoming visibly darker. At the far corners, both the left and right walls were experiencing the same thing. The back wall was now emitting what one could describe a solar flare, but instead of it being a fiery orange, and the temperature of the literal Sun, it was smoky, like ink being dropped into water. Multiple of these flares were coming out the wall before patches of white outlines, like the shape concrete takes when a water balloon makes contact with it, start appearing.

 Only half a dozen of these white outlines appeared when sounds started coming from them. They were engaged, like in a horde of starving animals. That's when that thing came out from one of them. The arms looked similar from earlier, but now were connected to a body that sure as hell wasn’t human. Claws as hands, three on each hand and foot. Where eyes should be, one giant sphere that took up 45% of its face, with animation that looked like fire, was present. The rest of the body was skeletal like, with more mass near its shoulders and some on its back.

More of these things were coming out of these patches. Their movements were irregular, they would twitch and shudder so sudden throughout their body. There were at least a dozen and a half with them, before the stranger spoke again.

“The Nine’s trial has been met. Our message reaches out, yet is swept by unseen currents.” Those eyes were now deadset on the Avengers. Growling is now coming from those bodies, one even beginning to stalk towards the Captain.

“Until then, make known your value…” with a single roar from one of them, these shadowy creatures were now rushing towards the team, some were even on all fours, scurrying like some sort of bug. The Captain barked out, ”Get back to the surface!”

“...so divided gods may wield you in time.”
—------
“What do you mean they just disappeared?” Black Widow who at this point, is about to sock Barton in his throat. How do you lose people out of nowhere? She silently repeated that sentence to herself, because how? One second, the comms channel is open, Roger’s oxygen level for his mask is showing at 78%, and Stark’s suit is operating at full capacity with zero damage to the chassis.

Then poof. The screen glitches out and they're not on screen. No vitals, no levels, no percentages. Just nothing on screen. Barton and Banner have been at this for almost three minutes and they keep getting interference from something outside the jet. Parker shared his idea on what could be the source.

“Could it be the radiation?”

Could it?
 
Banner answered him,”If it was, the Counter would’ve shown a rise in levels of the gas, but it hasn’t moved since we’ve landed.” Banner has been checking the Gesier Counter every 30 seconds to see a rise or fall in the gas ever since they’ve arrived and it hasn’t budged at all. Knowing that, they're all growing weary by the second. What was causing this interference?

“Should I go out there?” Quicksilver gesturing with both thumbs to the ramp. Rogers did appoint him as the team’s back-up in case something goes wrong. And something was definitely going wrong. Falcon shakes his head, then tells him to stay out for now.

“Hold on Speedy, we’ll try one more time. If nothing happens…you’re going out there.” A nod of acknowledgement, Quicksilver retreats back to his seat, now with a bouncy leg, his anxiety is getting to him strong. That anxiety dies down when Parker notices something outside.

“Hey uhhh…” Everyone is now looking at him, where he’s positioned near the cockpit of the quinjet. “...is it just me, or did it get darker outside?”

Everyone is now flocking to the front to see what he means. It was darker outside, but there were no clouds to shadow the area. It simply was darker outside. It’s mid-day when they got here, not a lot of time has passed since. Heads moving to see what was causing this, Spider-man points something out. “Wha…what’s that?”

Everyone is focusing on what he’s seeing and pointing, then they see it. It looked like a ball, but knowing the area there in, it could be a spore. A very noticeable spore. The sphere was no bigger than a baseball, but that’s still pretty big in terms of spores.

“That can’t be good.” Falcon’s tone was indicating something bad was about to happen. It’s almost scary how quick that became true. The comms buzzing threw everyone off guard when the Captain’s voice came through.

“Rea…th…et!”

Trying to secure the connection, Barton is trying to get a hold on him.

“Cap? Cap, do you read?”

“Ready the jet!” is all he can say before he was cut off by the Counter’s sudden clicking. Radiation was now spreading like a tsunami from the base entrance, where the dirt was turning… black? The grass, dirt, even some of the trees nearby were getting covered in this blackness as Barton announces he can see Cap and the rest make a B-line to the quinjet. Falcon and Black Widow were already strapped in the cockpit, steering the jet into position for the others to run in, and launch off. 

Ramp being lowered and the quinjet roaring to life, Spider-man moves to the top of the ramp to see what was happening. He’s able to see Cap and the rest running towards them, and something else catches his eye. Multiple somethings. Squinting his eyes hoping to focus on it, that’s when he sees those creatures, flooding out of the entrance and dashing towards them. There’s more of those spores from the front of the jet, maternalizing in different sizes. The biggest out of them was almost the size as a damn car, and certainly was different then the rest. Debris was flying towards it as energy flares from it, striking the ground. It was placed several feet higher than the rest of the spores, almost meeting midway for some of the surrounding trees when things started falling from it. They looked like those things chasing the others, but these ones were very different.

These ones were shooting both at the quinjet, and Cap’s team. 

“What the fu-” was all Parker said before ducking from getting shot now. He risked a peek to see Cap’s team now dodging and weaving on the field to avoid getting shot. These weren’t regular bullets, some of these projectiles were blue, with some orange. Parker is a little taken away from it. He admits that it’s kinda cool looking in his head, but he isn't about to find out if they hurt like real bullets. Still pretty cool though was his last thought before Vision glides in the jet, followed by Wanda.

Iron Man is covering Captain from getting fired at, sending a few missiles at these things, but now, the giant spore is reacting. At its center, it's now turning white and spreading throughout the sphere, a ring of both debris and energy are now circling the spore. The spore itself is now emitting this inky smoke going upwards to the sky. And below to the ground. The ground does the same as the spore, but looks more like fire than ink. Just as the spore turns fully white, both Iron Man and Captain America get on abroad, before the Captain releases a small yelp and grabs his left shoulder. Did he just get shot? Is the only thought Parker has before helping the now wounded Captain get further in the jet. ”Get us airborne, now!” The Captain’s last order before falling onto a seat near Banner and Vision.

 A large, almost thunderous sound crackles throughout the sky before Parker, Wanda, and Iron Man turn around to see the giant spore fully white and its ring moving dangerously fast, before energy surges from it, darting to the ground. The small piece of the Earth that the spore was hovering over began to crack open, only getting wider and wider as more energy from the spore files into the cracked surface and into the base. As the ramp is being raised, the spore sends one more pulse of energy into the Earth before quite literally exploding. The nearby trees split in half. Energy is seen expanding outwards towards them as the ramp finally closes. The team still braces themselves as the energy hits the quinjet, causing minor turbulence before ascending to the sky, returning back home to the Compound.

Chapter Text

“The Nine’s trial has been met…”

The Nine is the only thought that’s running through the team’s head. Is there already a new threat rising? Ultron was only three years ago, and the conflict between the Avengers was two years. But now, The Nine, are making a move. They don’t even know if they were human or not. Was it another Loki situation, someone seeking to conquer the Earth? An organization like HYRDA or The Ten Rings, people who want to see the world burn?

The flight back to the Compound is quiet, silent, accompanied by the sound of shifting bodies in seats, alerts near the cockpit, or Steve’s little winces of pain as Bruce tries to patch him up after getting shot. After a quick examination of the wound with a piece of tech for scanning. The Doctor is startled when the scans show that there was a current of electricity near the wound. His face gave away his moment of curiosity and startled-ness when the Captain looked at the screen and asked “How is that possible?”

Bruce Banner, a scientist with seven PhDs and the doctor of the Avengers, answered Steve’s question, but it wasn’t what Steve was expecting.

“I don’t know.”
—------

Mission debrief was, some would say, interesting. Others would say it’s bat-shit crazy, or might even say “The Avengers are losing it.” Given recent world events, bat-shit craziness can happen. Even before they set foot in the Compound, Bruce was ordering everyone to quarantine and for decontamination because everyone, except Bruce, forgot they were all exposed to a deadly radioactive gas while running from shadow creatures.

The quarantine went by fairly quick, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. They were only out in the field less than an hour but it didn’t hurt to take the precaution of being safe and sound. Friday still took an extra step to analyze the gas that lingered on the team, and thank God she did. She interrupted the Avengers, mid,de-briefing, to inform them a new discovery of the gas. “I don’t mean to interrupt but, I have discovered something interesting about the Radon-220 Gas.”

Now that got everyone’s attention. With everyone now more alerted, Tony was the first to ask. “What is it Friday?”

“While the gas itself showed that it has the same Alpha particles and decay of Radon-220, the gas was never radiated. The gas showed to be some sort of neutrinos.”

The Hell?

 
“How?” Bruce, who is now just more confused about the situation, inquired to the AI. Everyone at this point is now more confused about the apparent non radioactive gas, then on edge on what type of threat they are now facing.

“During decontamination, the gas was sent through multiple detectors to see the gas’s decay in order to rule out if it was indeed Alpha decay. While it did appear to be Alpha decay, there were small amounts of distortions within them. Further analysis revealed that there were sterile neutrinos emitting from the gas.” Before anyone got to say anything, a holo was projected into the room showing the different particles of the gas, then highlighted parts of the particles were then shown. She was right. There were sterile neutrinos in the gas.

Shit just got even MORE confusing

Few moments have passed before Tony tries to break the silence with a clap of his hands to bring everyone back and continue on with the de-brief. “Alright well now we can add fake radioactive gas to the list.” he adds, alongside a sad attempt of jazz hands with a little “yay”. 

Did it help? No. 

Did it uplift everyone’s spirits? Hell no. 

Was it worth it? Hell yeah.

Natasha rolls her eyes before writing down the new information both on a physical white board and on a tablet to later file. So far, they have jotted down shadow demons from the walls, weird ass black spores, giant ball that explodes, and creepy person that floats and has multiple voices. So much for professionalism. A few notes have been made on the ball and the spread of black energy that spread from the entrance and into the surrounding area and trees. The texture looked like bumps constantly moving around. On the ground where parts of it were covered in this mysterious blackness, energy or smoke would rise from it in different locations. White dots would be scattered throughout the blackness, almost resembling stars in the night sky. The giant ball that was floating, would emitted random strikes of white energy from the inside, almost like lightning strikes occurring. Both the ground and ball shared the same texture of the random white dots splatted across their own surfaces. 

The shadow demons from the walls were now being discussed which went by quickly. There were technically two types of shadow demons, the ones from inside the base were talked about first. Skeletal, twitchy, and can run on all fours. The ones from outside were more interesting. Still twitchy, same shadowy effect on their bodies, but with a bit of blue-white coming from their feet, still having the smokey texture. These ones looked more semi-human, looking like actual bodies then a skeleton. They still had that one singular white circle on their face, and they appeared to be more intelligent than the other with having the ability to hold some sort of firearm and are very capable of firing it.

 
Now onto the Stranger. Before they could discuss about them, Steve spoke out one singular sentence, which gave every body in the room chills.

“It was a kid.”

Faces grew very uncomfortable, and personal traumas were slowly creeping into their minds. Some of them were all too familiar with this. Steve adds more onto what he said.

“They were fighting off whatever was controlling them to warn us about the base getting destroyed. We have to assume they're under some sort of mind control, like Loki’s Scepter and the Mind Stone.” Steve is now darting his eyes to the others, making sure they follow on what he said. Few nod their heads to  conform until Wanda speaks up, on something that flew over their heads.

“The man…in the room before he…he said that this isn’t his HYDRA, what did he mean by that?” How could they forgotten that? How did the Captain forget? The man was HYDRA, there was no denying that, but something still felt off. His uniform, his accent, everything about him was HYDRA, but during Steve’s time. Then, a thought starting to form in the Captain’s head which he was scared could be true. ‘He isn’t from this time.’ 

The thought is lost when Clint added on into the topic of the Stranger and the man. “So what, do we just assume that there is another group like HYDRA trying to make people float and have things from the shadow shoot at people?” Sam joins in with Clint’s question.

“What about this kid? If there’s another HYDRA at play, then this kid was experimented on and is now acting like some sort of, what…a messenger?”

“A messenger who could kill someone in less than 3 seconds.” Tony immediately says, almost correcting Sam. He shoots Tony a woah look, he shouldn’t, they all looked at the footage, they all saw how the man was split down the middle and then got sucked into the shadows.

“And we can assume they wield some sort of umbrakinesis, alongside some sort of flight given by their experimentation.”  Vision commented. Umbrakinesis, the power of shadows. How on brand.

With a single glance from the clock, Natasha proposes that they wrap up this brief and continue tomorrow, so everyone is refreshed to move forward. With everyone saying their goodnights and departing to their own rooms. Steve is able to catch the younger avengers before they all leave to their rooms.

“How are all of you holding up?” Steve, who now sounds more like a concerned father, then a roommate.

Pietro just shrugs

Peter just mumbles, “I’m doing ok.” still trying to sound a bit more positive, while fighting off his exhaustion from the jetlag but his getting the better of him.

Wanda responded with a bit more tone than Peter’s. “We’re holding up, we’ll get through this.” She knew that Steve can look between her lies in response and tone. She’s grateful that he doesn’t push it and accepts her answer.

“Alright, I’m just-I’m just checking in.”

The trio do look a little more at ease with the Captain’s worry. A weak smile forms on their faces, realizing that they will get through this, and help this kid become free from this “Nine” or whatever power vacuum HYDRA left in their downfall.

—------

Street lights.

Houses lined up and down the street, with a tree, perfectly placed and sprouted between them.

The night sky glitter with stars, some glowing brighter than the rest. Refocusing back onto this suburb, focusing on one particular house.

Two stories, nice front-yard, decent size. Then through the window, there she was. Wanda, bundled up on the couch watching some sort of late night show, and right next to her, was a more human looking Vision. The Mind Stone is still ever present, a permanent reminder that he is a machine. Machines can’t become sentient, express feelings and emotions, or become human. Yet here he was.

“You sure the boys are actually asleep and not sitting on the stairs?”

“Yes dear, they are.” 

“Good…I still can’t believe this is our, Vis. Ours”

“It still feels…unobtainable sometimes.”

This is her perfect future, her perfect life. No enemies, no threat, no evil in the world. Just her, the love of her life, and two miracles she would tear reality apart and erase if anyone dared lay a hand on her kids. It was her perfect dream.

And that’s what this is, a dream, meaning it wasn’t real. But what occurs feels very real.

The window of their living room breaks. Like second nature, Wanda is at the ready, Hands ready to throw and release whatever sort of Chaos Magic she needs to this sudden intrusion. Vision, back to his true self, hovers over his lover, ready to dive into whatever broke into his home and threatened his wife and kids. They were met with no intruder, just glass spread over the carpet, and a silver bracelet.

With caution, they approach the bracelet. Wanda crouches to retrieve the sudden jewelry and takes a closer look. It was an ordinary bracelet. Silver stainless steel, with black string weaved between it to secure its hold and structure. The clasp was a simple design. Pull back and unhook. Though there was one thing that made this accessory,a bit more personal and unique. A piece of circular metal that’s used for key-chains was hooked on the bracelet. The key-chain holds two coins…no…two pesos. It was holding two pesos, worn out and dirt was covering the majority of one of them. With a confused look, she looks back up to Vision, who shares the same confusion as her. Before she could even stand back to her full height. The ground begins to crack, like glass making contact with a high moving object. She darted her head back to the sound and before she could even change her facial expressions to match the sudden change in feeling, she falls,

and falls

and falls

The last thing she heard was Vision calling out to her. Unable to use her abilities to fly back up, all she can see is her lover becoming smaller and smaller, and getting consumed by this hollowness of emptiness, this void of life and light. All she can do is see and scream. She doesn’t scream for long before she falls into somewhere new, that same effect of glass shattering occurs when she gets transferred to this new setting. Still falling.

She sees a golden city, in flames, besieged by some sort of enemy or entity. Buildings that once stood tall, are tilted over or collapsing on themselves. Screams of the population become deafening to her. Wanda tries her best to see what in the actual fuck is happening around her, that is when she see those spheres. The small ball of energy from the mission, from Alaska, from the HYDRA base. They were at least a dozen of them, these were the size of literal stadiums. The closest one to her mimicking the one from the mission, sending a beam of energy into the ground. That’s when she realizes she is still falling. Eyes widen at the sudden speed of the ground becoming closer and closer. She hears the same roar from the mission, from those demons from the shadows, the only difference is that this roar was amplified, it was even reverberating in some sections. Before making contact with the ground, it shatters and she braces as she then leaves a burning world and into a world of stars.

During the fall, she can see nothing but stars, and the hollowness of space. ‘It is beautiful’, she had to silently admit to herself. A faint blue hue was masked over this place, there were no planets, no moons, not even a sun in this place. Just stars. That is until she looked down at what she was falling into. It was a planet, or at least it was planet size. It looked like it had teeth, or at least curved shape pillars the size of skyscrapers and the texture of bone. There were at least three rows of these teeth looking pillars then the rest of this-this thing’s body looked like it had valleys etched into it, drawing their attention to the center of it.

 Wanda is able to count at least seven tentacle-like limbs coming from this Eldritch being. Some looked like shadows, unable to see what texture it has, while some where she can clearly see, almost looked rocky and bumpy, with some visible cracking taking place throughout the limb. 

Around the center of this body, she is now assuming it’s some sort of body, a blue ring. Almost similar to the eerie blue the Stranger back in Alaska had in their eyes. Large clouds of smoke were leaking from opposite sides of the ring, one from the being being poured out into the known, the other side being poured and blocking from seeing another two sets of tentacle like limbs.

She truly doesn’t know what she’s looking at but in conclusion she is positive it’s a body. Dead or alive was quickly answered when the corpse emitted a shockwave of blue energy, the same blue as its ring, coming from the ring. The ring itself started glowing immensely and a scream-like sound was coming from it, it almost sounded in reverse. Powerless in this dream and going nowhere but down, she braces as she gets dangerously closer and closer to the ring, to the smoke, to the scream. Suddenly she sees cracks like reality forming in front of her, like glass under pressure. Knowing what’s coming next, she readies herself to see whatever new apocalypse or literal god she’s about to witness. The reality shatters in front of her, she passes through it, and lands.

Flat on her ass, Wanda, whose eyes she didn’t know were closed as she went through flutter open to her sudden change in position and motion, was still in this world of stars, only now sitting in a large body of water. She slowly rises from the water, seeing that it’s barely a foot tall, moves her entire body around in place to try and grasp her surroundings, 'water' and 'stars' is all she can gather. She’s starting to panic as she can figure out if this is still a dream, or if this is real. Her overthinking was consuming her mind until she heard a familiar, yet strange voice behind her.

“Oh my God it actually worked?!”

She does a 180 in place to see who was talking. Once her eyes landed on the person, she immediately recognized the voice. It was the Stranger’s voice, a single voice, unlike multiple voices that come from them when they speak.

Wanda, who’s visibly confused on how they're doing this, didn’t form half a sentence or question before the Stranger spoke again.

“Before you ask, no, I have no fuckin’ clue on how I brought you here, but it worked! But please, you need to help me.”

Somewhat at ease and remember when she heard this voice, they were pleading to her, to the Avengers, she truly believed this person needed help. “Who’s making you do this?” she inquired

“They called themselves The Nine, they are not of our dimension but they are tethered to the Celestial bodies of our Solar System. There are practically gods.” 

How fun

“What do they want from you?”

“I gave up my freedom, at the time, it was my only option. The only option I could see. I thought it was worth it, I was so wrong.”

While the Stranger was talking, she was making mental notes on their appearance. 'As tall as Peter but shorter than Pietro, still has on the clothing from the mission, has a slight Californian accent' was so far noted before listening back into them.

“They allow me to look down the valley of time to see what will or can happen, but what there about to make me do in a few days, that’s when I knew I fucked up, choosing to be their Emissary and be used by them.”

Now confused on what happens in a few days, Wanda mentally readies herself before coming up with the question, and asking it, ready for whatever they're about to say.

“What are you going to do?”

Trying to piece an answer, the Strang-the Emissary’s answer was more cryptic than straightforward.

“A golden city, above the clouds, will be shrouded in darkness…”

The Emissary now looks like their struggle to answer, like trying to remember something but there is a mental block present, like a trauma block.

“...a cube-a cube that will be needed for a vote-to see the Emissary to be loose and rot, or to serve till-Sol burns out.”

Both Wanda and the Emissary now look and feel uneasy. The Emissary, who can look forward in time, can see their own fate, their death of dying naturally, or death of servitude to these gods. Trying to change the subject, Wanda asked the Emissary a simple question.

“What’s your name?”

The Emissary, who looks drained from everything, almost looks genuinely dazed when she asks that. They still answered to the best of their abilities, or lack of memory.

“I-I don’t remember. Every time I try to look to my past, they would scrape me hollow, from my skin down to my very molecules and atoms, I feel it every time…” there is a pause in words before they continue, now with some confidence. “...but I think…My name…is Odera.” 

Finally putting a name on a face, Wanda announced her own name.

“I’m Wanda.”

The Emissary, Odera, looks almost happy.

“It’s nice to meet you Wan-” They were interrupted by whatever the fuck just shook the ground and made Odera stumble back a few. Eyes to the sky, clouds were forming above the pair, before those same spheres, from the mission and from that burning world Wanda flew through, started appearing. Just like before, those skeletal things started dropping from them and charged towards the pair. Wanda naturally went to launch a few spikes of scarlet magic, forgetting she can’t use them in here, what the hell here is. Seeing her failed attempt of attack, Odera, now in front of Wanda, swings their right arm to the approaching horde of shadows and fires off a wave of that same energy from the spheres to them. Looking at their hand that caused that, They blurted out their new discovery of their ability, “I didn’t even know I could do that.”

Roars from the clouds made the pair jot their heads up to the sudden sounds. It was multiple entities making those sounds, like a cacophony of harmony and thoughts. Thoughts that were translated to rage, to anger, to disappointment. Odera heard these thoughts before, that’s when they realized who was making those roars.

“Shit! It’s them-It’s the Nine! They found us!”

Odera, quick on their feet, moves to a distance before they drop to their knees, raising a fist while doing so, and punches the water, causing a tear on reality to form in front of them.

“You need to go! This tear will lead back to reality, to wake you up and warn the others! GO,NO-” A spear like weapon, coming from the clouds that are now directly above them, is launched towards Odera and embeds itself in their stomach causing a choke up grunt from them before they finish speaking. Wanda, now worried, ignores that feeling, and does as she is ordered to do. She runs towards the tear.

She wakes up, looks around to see if it’s light or day out, and reads her digital clock. It reads 3:37. She moves around in bed to turn on her nightstand to see if this was reality. A quick scan of the room confirms it. She doesn’t notice her closed fisted before she feels something in her hands and looks to open her fist. It was the bracelet. The silver bracelet with the two pesos attached to it. Then, she remembers the dream, she remembers all of it but only a few things are coming into focus.

A golden city

A cube

…loose and rot, or to serve till Sol burns out

Wanda doesn’t fall back asleep, she stays up till sunrise, to inform the others about the dream, about the message, about Odera.

(perspective/POV change in the next segment cuz i couldn’t think of another way of writing the scene, srry more in the end notes if I am remember jajaja)

—------

EMISSARY YOU OVERSTEP YOU BOUNDS

/The voice rattles your electrons, sets your muscles to screaming. You need to push ahead. You snatch at a thousand lives, past or future/

‘A golden city-a cube so small, yet grand enough to wipe species off the stars. Has been used before-an act of war-will be used in an act of its original design-correct design.’

‘You need to find this cube-from nine planets-to Earth-to housed in this golden city, you need the cube to locate.’

‘No time to scream-sailor’s warning-grab,pull,grab,pull-two eyes bear witness the foretold.’

.just what do yo|u think you’re d.oi|ng

/Nine pairs of hands rip away at your atoms in rebuke. You grit your teeth though the pain-do not give in-no satisfaction for them-they already see it in your mind/

‘A row of calibration weights-two boys, laughing-the scales,tipping.’

‘A bouquet of roses on an empty grave-Frankenstein’s monster-departed from God’s path-no longer worthy of salvation, gasping on white sands-what is old is new again.’

is the honored emissary = now a petulant child

 /collapse into glass. You hold each shard together with all your might. You are-you-you were Odera-you were alive-you are-you will be-ODERA-again/

‘A letter plastered in stamps-directions to the Giver-in flight-to you-yes,you, Odera.’

C E S A E

/Smoke through your metacarpals-nuclei through your atomic cloud-screaming, you hold-the last thread. You drag your self back together, your sulfur-hexafluoride howl dying in the nothingness of space./

/You have to warn them./

Chapter Text

Sunlight was already creeping in her room, alerting her that it’s already morning, meaning she’s been awake for almost four hours already. In these past four hours she’s been repeating the same 3 things over and over again.

A golden city

A cube

..loose and rot, or to  serve till Sol burns out

Wanda still can’t grasp how Odera was able to pull her out of her dream and into…where the hell they were before getting attacked. She knew that they have some abilities but to grab someone from their dreams? Not even Wanda can do that. But despite that, they warned her about an incoming attack on this mysterious golden city. Whether Odera is friend or foe, she can’t get mad at them for the warning. More awake and now ready to delve into this with the others, she gets out of bed and begins her morning rituals.

“Friday, who else is awake?”

“Captain Rogers and Wilson have just returned from their run, Ms. Maximoff.”
“And where are they now?”

“They are in the kitchen.”

She politely thanks the AI as she walks out her room and gets going, But before she leaves, she remembers one last thing and eyes dart to her nightstand. The bracelet. She slowly retreats back more into the room and goes for the bracelet. Picking it up as if it was the most fragile object on the planet, and caressing it with a thumb. ‘It’s definitely real’ was all she was thinking, examining the jewelry, trying to figure out what role it or will play. ‘Was it Odera’s? Was it personal to them? Was it on them when the Nine took them?’

Silencing these new questions, she shoves the bracelet into her pockets and makes way to the kitchen hoping to catch Steve and Sam, hopeful more members arrive too, to hear Odera’s cry for help, and Odera’s new orders from their boss, or bosses.

The Compound’s stone like-appearance becomes more vibrant as more Sun rises. Steve is already discussing the plans for the day meanwhile Sam is still trying to regulate his breathing after his run. He knew what, or who he was going against but God damn, Can Steve slow down just a tiny bit? Steve began to speak on yesterday’s debrief before abruptly stopping when he catches the sound of approaching footsteps. Looking around to see who’s coming, his eyes land on Peter, who looks like they’re been awake for 3 days straight. The young man’s appearance made Steve lose all train of thoughts and was now feeling worried. Before he could get a word out, Sam already beat him to the punch.

“You good Itsy Bitsy? You look like hell.”

Peter, who looks more aware of how he looks, replied back almost with nervousness, like he’s not supposed to say a certain thing. 

“Wha-Oh…yeah-yeah I’m good.” He lies and to try to mask his tiredness, he gives off a weak smile to the men in front of him.

Steve ain’t buying it.

“Peter…”

‘Damnit’ Peter silently cursed in his mind to Steve’s sudden fatherly tone. The tone that Peter knows he’s now got to come clean.

“Sorry, it’s just that…” he struggles to find the next few words, trying to not grow more attention to what plagued his mind.

“I couldn’t sleep last night, I’ve been thinking about the debrief from yesterday.”

The confession softens Steve internally and appears Sam has the same effect on him too. 

“Are you okay? What part of the debrief had you up?” Sam inquires

“It was about the footage, about the stranger.”

“What about them?”

“They-they almos-“

Peter’s eyes shift slightly and that’s when he turns to see Wanda approaching the trio of men. She certainly looks better than him, but she definitely looks like something was on her mind. “Wanda?” Was all he could say before she makes in earshot of everyone

Steve, Sam, and now Peter look towards her as she begins to form her thoughts, and spill them out to them.

“It’s about the Stranger, they talked to me in my dream.” Her voice did not falter, she was dead serious.

“What did they say?” Steve asked, and in return, she only said two words.

“A Warning.”

Eyes dart back and forth to different bodies Before Steve asks Friday to wake the other and to direct them to the common room, urgently.

Seven minutes after the call, most of the others have made their way to the common room, the rest can join mid-whatever Wanda will be talking about. Some decided to sit on the couch while some just leaned on it, the only people who were standing on their own were Steve and Wanda. A single nod from him tells Wanda that she can start talking.

“Last night I had a dream, it seemed normal at first but then it suddenly felt too real, like a lucid dream.”

A nod from some members occurs before she continues.

“I remember I began to fall through the floor…I fell and was taken to a burning city, and those spheres from the mission were there, they were much bigger. Then I was taking somewhere else…" She's mentally recalling the dream before going on. “I was in space, it was blue, then I looked down and I saw a planet that had these tentacles coming from it. It had a blue ring on its center.”

That sure as hell made some eyebrows raise.

“Like a living planet?” Natasha wanting confirmation on this planet appearance

“Yes, but smoke was coming from its center, and from one side of it too.” Wanda answered, before moving on to the part that made her a little uneasy. “It was screaming, the planet.”

 ‘What the hell does she mean by screaming?’ Was now jumping between the team. A moment passed before Peter spoke up, “what else happened?”

Wanda, now looking up to him, saw his and everyone else’s eyes beam up in curiosity, like wanting to know the next part of an exciting story. In the distance she hears two sets of footsteps coming from the corridor, ‘must be Tony and Pepper.’

“Then I fell into water, and saw our Stranger,but they are called something else.” Eyes were now more awake and bodies stiffen at the mention of the Stranger. “They looked normal, no blue eyes, on the ground, and talked normally.”

“What are they called?” Natasha questioned

“The Emissary.”

She is trying to remember what they looked like. They still had that poncho that went down past their knees. Despite having no blue eyes, their face was still hard to see due to still having their hood on, just like from the mission. They still had those blue marks from their jawline going upwards. Their forehead was coated in dust with small white lines going horizontally across their forehead. Where hair should be falling down to their forehead, it looked like they had some sort of head cap on. Their leg still had the patch of black and white stripes circling on the limb. The Emissary’s appearance was alien but their voice, their eyes, the emotions that left their body whenever they spoke, that was human.

“What did they want with you?” Tony asked, now looking somewhat concerned.

“They wanted to warn me about an attack, an attack that these Nine are making them do.”

So it’s confirmed

The Nine are ones pulling the Strangers…The Emissary’s strings.

She relays what the Emissary told her in the dream, The Nine are Gods from the 4th dimension that are tied to the planets. They were controlling the Stranger in doing their bidding. And the Emissary wants to be free from them. She tells them that their name is, or was, Odera. Some of them just took the name as another source of data or a new piece of information on the Emissary, others just felt horrible for this Odera person.

“When I woke up, these were in my hands.” She pulls out the bracelet and the 2 pesos attached to it. She passes it around for the other members. No one took more than four seconds in observing the silver accessory, but when it reached Peter, something deep from his thoughts came rushing to him.

‘You’ve seen this before’

The voice in head just told him he’s seen this same bracelet. The same silver bracelet that has two pesos on a keychain attached to it. The bracelet that was in Wanda’s dream was in Peter’s hand. But he can’t rememb-no, something wasn’t letting him remember it. He feels it, it’s right on the surface of his mind. But something is blocking it. Realizing he’s holding onto the bracelet longer than the rest, he quickly passes to Pietro and pans his eyes down to the hand that was it. ‘Where have I seen this?’

Pietro passes it to Steve and while examining it, asks Wanda one last thing.

“What about the warning? What did they warn you about?”

“They are going to-” Her knees suddenly cave in and while doing so a sound of pain leaves her mouth. The immediate surge of pain causes her abilities to fire off some sort of shielding, like a built-in defense system to protect, but from what? Crashing down to the ground, Pietro is already by her side to aid her sister how the rest react a second later to move.

“It’s The Emissary…they-they were trying to send me another message, I felt them trying.” now on ground level, shuffling into a kneeling position. She spoke again after catching a few more breath- ins. “They’re going to attack a city..a golden city…now.”

Everyone now looks between each other to see if anyone knew about a golden city. The only response was confused looks and eyes. Wanda spoke up again, now back to an upright standing position, a hand now plastered to her forehead. “They’re after some sort of cube?..The Nine are making them retrieve some sort of cube.”

While some faces still wonderland make sense  about this cube, while a certain Captain mentally flinches at the mention of it. A cube.

The cube.

The cube that thousands of men lost their lives to weapons powered by it.

The cube that left him in limbo for almost 80 years.

The cube that brought forth beings from space and besieged New York.

And where was that cube taken to?

A golden city

The realization made way to almost everyone in the room before Bruce spoke out the place they thought the cube would be safe from.

“Asgard…” heads turn to the Doctor’s direction in response to what he just said. Asgard. Home of literal gods and powerful warriors from Norse mythology. A Kingdom built from conquest and war, turns into a beacon of light and becomes the defender of the Nine Realms. A place where the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D were reassuranced by the Thunder God that the Tesseract will be housed in a vault, safe from prying hands and under the watchful eye of Thor and the Royal Guard of the Asgardian Kingdom.

“Friday where’s the thingy majiggy that Thor left us?” Tony snapping his fingers trying to remember where he put the horn that Thor gave them in case of an emergency for income attack from the enemy.

“The instrument is in the Lab, sir.” Of course.

Now walking towards the lab, to who’s surprise, no ones, set to find the Asgardian instrument to bring back out. The remaining Avengers stood idle before Steve barked out to suit up and meet near the grass in 15 minutes. If they knew that an incoming attack is intimate, especially an attack on one of their own, they couldn’t afford any sort of hesitation and be at the ready for the threat.

Peter, Wanda and Pietro were the last few to arrive outside the Compound, near the grass area of the hangars to regroup with the rest of the Avengers. Tony was inspecting the instrument Thor gave them for sudden emergencies. It surely wasn't Gjallarhorn or any fabled weapons from Norse mythology, but it still had the same purpose as it.

To sound the approach of the end.

An end.

Handing the Asgardian artifact to Steve, throwing in a joke to try to uplift some spirits. “Lead us thy glorious battle, O thee Captain!” Tony said, with some sort of accent trying to mimic the Thunder God’s one, or a very bad attempt at Shakesphere. The attempt somewhat  worked, a few chuckles, even a faint smile from the Captain himself. It was only right to crack a joke before missions. It was only human nature to do so.

Drawing air into enhanced lungs, he blew into the horn. The sound erupting from the other end sounded beautiful. Like multiple horns blaring in the distance, after a triumphed victory from battle or war. If this horn sounds like this, one can’t imagine what Gjallarhorn sounds like. Sky crackling and the air becoming charged, a beam of light from the Sky rushes to the group of heroes and envelopes them, carrying them to their designation, or end.
—------

Bodies begin crowding the Market District of Asgard, a stampede of walking and roars of laughter, chatter, and emotion while soon engulf the streets of the District. Street vendors setting up their stands and marking down the prices of the day, a local small band of singers and musicians will become background noise and attraction for children and others curious of the sound. Everyone in Asgard wore similar colors and garments, clothing may be different but the colors were consistent. Opulent Gold with Evergreen, Berry Blue and Maroon Red, even Gold on Gold which was questionable.

The District was somewhat near the Palace, but the Market District, as well as the other Districts, had a tunnel system connected that led to the underbelly of the Palace. It was built with the intent of excavation protocols, an easy way to ensure the safety of the people of Asgard. As more people began to fill the district there were more bodies with different colors of clothing. Gold and green, maroon and cream, gold and gold.

Then Black, White, and Blue.

This person wore a low hood, covering the majority of their face. Their clothing, though was true Asgardian-made, the colors were not an eye-swore but some would take a double take on them. It did not affect the person, they pressed forward to their target.

Their clothing almost made them look like some sort of wanderer, a traveller through the 9 realms. The hood was attached to a poncho that draped a little below the ribcage, and underneath appeared to be some sort of plating.
Armor plating, for a wanderer? Some people caught eye to this and gave the person a weird look. It did not affect the person, they pressed forward to their target.

They walked with preciousness, not bumping into any body or thing. An impressive thing to do in a place like this. The hooded stranger did not lift their head to see where they were going. They instructed them where exactly they needed to go. They needed to reach the gate, the gate that leads to the tunnel, the tunnel that leads to the underbelly of the Palace. Where a certain cube is being housed in. Each step forward the crowd dies down and the shuffling of swords and armor clanking and capes flowing in the air becomes more pronounced.

It did not affect the person, they pressed forward to their target.

A few feet away, a guard approaches the stranger, followed by two more guards. They weren’t exactly the royal guard, but they still had some authority here. The stranger halted almost suddenly but appeared that they had done so in slow motion, like they were too fast for time to catch up with them.

“Halt, no civilians are allowed any further beyond this threshold” the front guard announced to them. They still didn’t look up to meet eye to eye.

The stranger took one more step. The faint sound of unsheathed weapons was barely heard but the stranger noticed it. It did not stop them. Another step and the sword was now fully drawn and its tip was pointed to them.

“I said..halt…” the guard was about to repeat their earlier command before the stranger finally began to move their head. The guard was taken aback by their appearance, Blue streaks rising from their jawline to their mouth. Forehead covered in black dust, and those damn blue comic eyes. The guard was stunned from this stranger’s face and didn't realize the blur of silver racing between their eyes and letting out a yelp of pain. Not enough time passes to register this newfound pain, the stranger surges to the guard to cover his mouth, if he even dares to scream, pulls out the tip of their weapon and kicks the guard aside. The two remaining guard watched in confusion and terror as the front guard, now lifeless, body was discarded and watched the stranger twirl their weapon between their fingers. It was a spear, one end was flat, while the other end was bladed, blood would fly out from the spinning and brain matter would splat the tile around them. The stranger laid eyes on the left guard before suddenly disappearing from view before emerging from a nearby shadow and pushing the guard with the flat end of the spear, causing the guard to stump back a few.

The stranger reposition their hold on their staff to swing it from a downward angle and swing to slice both the chest and shoulder, a successful attack, the stranger sliced the chest and shoulder, and found the guard to hissed and in the same motion, redirected the swing to slice the the guard’s throat. Now on their knees trying to grasp whatever air he can, the stranger snaps to the last guard but has already advanced on them. The guard’s stance was sloppy, making it easier to evade the incoming attack, dodging to the right, they made use of the flat end and struck the ribs and head of the guard. Finding purchase from his whines, they lodge the spear straight to the heart, prodding out the other side of his soon to be corpse. The guard can only look in distress and in pain as he drops his sword and eyes go wall-eye.

The stranger grabs hold of the body and slides the spear out of the dead guard. They can feel the heart being dragged out of its place before the stranger fully drags out the spear, now colored in a deep crimson and some sort of tissue hangs from it. They change directions and now are going for the gate before stopping to hear.

It’s in the far distance, behind them. Trying to focus on this sound they look back to try and source it. Then they focus in, it’s past the crowd, past the district, past the edge of Asgard. That when they can hear it. Hear them.

It was the Bifrost. The sound of the sword being ripped from the mechanism that opened the way. The sound of nine sets of footsteps echo in the open room. The Avengers were here.

A voice echoes in the stranger’s head, that vexing voice. It sounded relief at the arrival of these heroes. It was the voice that originally belonged to this vessel. His will is too strong to submit. The stranger silences the voice of its own. ’We will not fail them.’

A memory surfaces in the stranger’s mind.

No, not a memory.

A gift, from the Nine

They look down to their hand and focus on this gift, fingers twitch then soon the entire arm begins to spasm and twitch. Their hand turns into that same texture as those things from that base. Smoke is emitting from their palm as a sphere appears in it. This sphere had voices coming from it, voices only the stranger can hear. They were begging, eager for a command, yearning for a voice to follow. The Emissary obliged, and spoke out a command to the sphere, in a language only few knew.

“Vos jajo-e avakadze tsinge gushtek”

“Rise from the Deep, turn this place into an offering”
—------

Resisting the urge to throw up, the Avengers took a minute to readjust to their new surroundings, and finally laid their eyes beyond the Watchtower on Asgard. Saying they were gobsmacked by the sight of this place wouldn’t serve it justice. The beautiful mountain range that sits outside the City’s limits, the Rainbow Bridge that glistens with energy and The towering structures that cling to the sides of the bridge, homes and greenery scattered throughout the city. The Palace itself is something different, Its cylinder-like columns reaching to the Sky. The Sun hits its walls and columns to only amplify its opulent color. Jaws dropped and eyes widened at the view, the Avenger’s trance of this beauty was short-lived when a man in a horned helmet approached them, and a mean ass looking sword in hand.

“Greetings, Avengers of Midgard.” The man delivered and damn, could those eyes kill. Orange irises and a blackout pupils. Thank God they weren’t multiple shades of blue. Unless your Captain America.

“I am Heimdall, Guardian of the Bifrost and the All-Seeing of the Nine Realms.”

“You knew we were coming?” asked the Captain

“I know everything.” Heimdall’s response wasn’t creepy at all but at least he opened the door for them. “Though your sudden call does make me wonder…Do you seek an audience with Thor?”

“We do, we believe that an attack on Asgard is going to happen soon, and the Tesseract is the reason why it’s going to happen.” Banner popping in behind Roger. Heimdall looks at them with a dazed look. ‘An attack? Here? Surely they joke.’ was the thought that was running in the Guardian's head. If that was true. He could’ve seen it days before this enemy even sits foot in Asgard. But he knew that Thor gave them the horn for income threats or emergencies. Sure, in Heimdall’s eyes, they were just some Midgardians with some powers or importance to Midgard, but if Thor trusts them that much to grant them a way to Asgard.

‘Maybe they do speak truth…maybe-’

The thought is silenced in Heimdall's head as he turns his back on the Avengers and creates distance between them. Planting his feet down, he raises his Hofund and swipes the space between him and the Avengers, creating a portal from the Watchtower to the Palace. The Avengers watched as the portal maternalized in front of them before Heimdall spoke again.

“Go. This will bring you straight to the Throne Room. Thor will be waiting for you.” 

Nods from the Guardian and the Avengers are given before they step through and the portal collapses as the last person gets through, Heimdall returns back to his post and begins to look beyond the space in front of him and into the many worlds the Nine Realms house.
—------

The team approaches the grand doors that lead into the Throne Room. They walk through and are met with Thor and a group of people in deep discussion with him. The Thunder God didn’t hear the door open, and it wasn’t told the team was approaching ear range before Thor looked up in surprise and a little hint of joy in seeing his friends suddenly being here in Asgard. He orders the group around him to give him the room for this surprise visit. The group leaves where the Avengers walked in, a few bows as they pass the team before Thor bellowed in excitement.

“Friends! It is good to see you all alive and well!” Hugs are exchanged and a firm handshake between him and the Captain. He certainly looked different, short hair, an eyepatch on his right eye, and no drapes from his Mother.

“New haircut?” Steve wondered. He isn’t saying he dislikes it, but the long blonde hair somewhat fit Thor more than this new hairstyle.

“Long story…Family drama-doesn’t matter anymore.” He answered. He wasn’t lying. Father’s death, long-lost sister that was also the Goddess of Death, got stranded in a weird planet, met a Valkyrie, Reunited with Loki, Returned to Asgard, stopped said sister/Goddess of Death. Became King.

Twas’ family drama indeed.

But now he sits on the Throne, With the Spear of the All-Father and Mjolnir on his hip. He was now King and Avenger of Earth, talking about responsibilities. While Loki wasn’t currently present, He was changed and now fights for Asgard and its people, so now he leads a small battalion of the Asgardian Army whenever there is conflict in the Nine Realms. “But enough of that, what brings you all here?”

Though he was happy to see the rest of the Avengers, he can’t help but shake the feeling that something is wrong. Steve spoke up on their appearance in his home. “We had an encounter with someone being possessed by Gods while we were locating the last few HYDRA bases, and last night Wanda got a message from them, and a warning.”

Eyes are now drawn the Witch as she recites what she told them earlier. “They told me that they are in service of the Nine, who are Gods from another dimension and using our planets as a way to be here. This person also gave me a warning, they were going to attack a golden city in search of a cube…We think this cube is the Tesseract." Thor’s eye sharpen at the thought of his home being attacked again. Hela laid waste to the Asgardian Army, and some good friends. He will not let it happen again. Not now and not ever. Thor only asked one question, he wanted to know if this person being controlled by these gods had a name. Wanda gave him a name.

“Odera”

‘We know them, Peter.’

That same voice from early buzzed again in Peter’s head. He’s been trying to remember this “Odera” person. He’s been trying ever since that stupid bracelet touched his hand. It felt and looked familiar but yet still foreign. And now this name, this Odera, brings the same feeling. Familiar and foreign. When he tries to remember, he only catches glimpses of a person. They can remember some aspects of this person but not fully. It’s like his mind isn’t allowing him to. Then he remembered that photo, the photo that randomly shattered in its frame. Where glass was shattered on their face. Then he remembers the memory of that photo and-

No

Stomach drops and he feels something pulling him down. It just unlocked in his mind, out of nowhere. The photo, the memory, the bracelet, the name.

‘She doesn’t mean that Ode-’

The thought is lost when the sudden crash of doors catches him by surprise and the rest of the Avengers look back in confusion by the sudden crash. Royal Guards were rushing in, encircling the group.

“What is the meaning of this?” Thor demanded. A guard spoke up, they appeared to be a higher ranking then then others, due to his more golden plating then the rest.

“The Market District Gate has been breached on both sides. The guards on post were found dead. All of them.” Thor’ eye shoots up in shock from the news. 

‘How?’

As the guard closes in on the Avengers, they are able to see another group run past the door. In the direction of the Vault. Where the Tesseract sits. Knowing what he must do to protect his Kingdom and people. He wasn’t just going to sit idle as this intruder waltzes in to steal an Infinity Stone. Thor barks the guards to let him through and follow him to the Vault. Thor, the Avengers, and the Royal Guards hightail-it to the Vault to stop this intruder.
—------
The Hall that leads down to the Vault was a scene Thor hoped to the Gods he never see again. Bodies littered the floor and walls. Some had wounds from a blade of some sort, while others look like they’ve been clawed at, by a rabid animal. The ones with a blade wound didn’t have too much blood around them but the ones with claw marks…some had their entire organs out. The guards that were pinned to the wall were being held by their own weapons.

While Thor looked at his fallen soldiers and protectors of his people, he wasn’t noticing the patches of black energy painting the floor, walls, even the ceiling. Energy was swirling out of them, like solar flares and smoke. Only a few guards had this smoky energy swept out of them, mainly area their stab wound. The patches had sound coming from them, like distorted voices and soundwaves. As they approached the stairs that descend into the Vault, a screech that turned into a reverbed scream was alarming from behind them. They turn only to see black and white energy swirling in a circular pattern until a sphere of crackling dark energy manifests and is suspended off the ground 8 feet above the ground. There is movement within the sphere and those shadow demons came jumping out by half a dozen. The Royal Guards are now in defensive positions as a large thud comes from the sphere.

The entity grows to their full height, easily surpassing if not the same height as the Captain. They looked the same as the demons but this one had more mass on it. Not only did it have more mass and it’s head resemble that of a hammerhead shark, it had a fucking sword. A sword that was glowing. Three more of these Swordbearers appeared before one let out a warcry and pointed their sword to the group of Asgardian and Midgardian. The Demons and Swordbearers charged towards the group before Roger gave out an order.

“Don’t let a single pass this door!” Iron man, Falcon, and Vision began their flight as the rest either began shooting or start throwing punches towards the income horde. “Parker, Wanda, and Thor, you're with me-” the Captain’s second order of command was interrupted when he caught the eye of fast approaching metal to his face. Quickly evading it, the weapon embeds itself into a column behind the group. 

It was a spear. The Captain and his small group gather to look at this surprise attack before the spear dissolves into energy and flies back to its owner. The Captain is quick to scan where the spear went. Its energy went to the top of the sphere and he laid eyes on the Emissary. The spear formed into their right hand as the Emissary looked down at the fight taking place below them. They leap off the sphere and land in a kneeling position. Rising to their full height, The Emissary dawns a helmet.

Their visor took the shape of a V. The helmet itself appeared to be two parts, the piece that covers the actual head, and another piece was layered over it, but gave off that it was all one piece. It had a brim that sprouted out a few inches, giving it an almost bowl-like appearance. At the edge of the brim spikes were protruding outwards, two on each side. The most apparent detail was the three circles that were in front of the helmet. Stacked over each other with a small gap between them. Each circle had lines inscribed in them. In total there were nine lines, and nine shapes within the three circles.

“You have proven yourselves worthy, this trial will be your judgement.”

‘That voice.’

Peter was now losing his mind. That voice was all too familiar. He remembers that voice but what he just heard, multiple voices came out as well. But that one voice. He thought he would hear that voice again. Though this moment of fear and relief is washed away as Thor roared to the Emissary.

“You dare enter my home and seek to steal from us! You are a fool!” The now enraged Thunder God was now focused on one thing, avenging his fallen brothers. 

The Emissary commands the small shadow horde before Thor makes a move.

“E’kya’sa’bō!”

“Retrive the Cube-Heart!”

He doesn’t care who this Odera was, all he saw was a murderer walking in his house and their spear is still fresh from their blood. Without thinking, He lunges towards the Emissary with bare fists. Unable to see their reaction, the Emissary only moves their head in reaction to this sudden movement before dodging out of reach of the Thunder God and weaves their spear in an act of defense, to block the income strikes. The Captain rushes to Thor's side in hopes of doing something while the rest fend off the Shadows and Swordbearers.

Peter is juggling between trying not to get clawed and watching the Emissary dodge blows from Thor and from Rogers. Their movement is almost alien, unnatural like for a human to move like that. While Thor was switching from fists to lightning attacks, Captain was more on the defense than the offensive, still finding the opportunity to strike. The Emissary was holding up between the God and Super Soldier. From blocking with the spear and redirecting Thor motion to throw him off balance, to landing hits on the Captain’s shield with either end of the spear. Flat, blade, blade, flat, flat, flat.

After delivering a blow to the stomach, Thor gets sent off his feet and makes contact with the nearby wall. Now focusing on the Captain, he braces himself for the income volley of attack he knows he is about to get. The Emissary runs up to the Captain before the last minute drops to a slide on one knee, using the momentum to spin to try and land a few hits on the Captain. A few found purchase before the Captain slams the shield between him and the spear, knocking it out of the Emissary’s hands. Stunned, The Emissary looks to their fallen weapon before rushing to the Captain with only their fists. Hands hard grip the shield as the Captain planets his feet raises it to his face before the Emissary grabs ahold of the shield too. Now in a tug-of-war attack, The Emissary is trying to pry the shield off the Captains hands. Rogers admits in his head that ‘this kid got strength to them, I’ll give them that.’

A swoosh fills the room as Mjolnir flies across and makes contact with the Emissary’s head. The contact was satisfying to Thor, but left Peter, and Rogers, in shock.

To add to more shock, The Emissary doesn’t get sent flying, but instead stumps back and drops to a kneeling position. Their helmet is completely shattered on their left side, exposing half their face and for the first time, The Emissary shows emotion.

They were shocked, and enraged.

Deciding to fully ditch the helmet, they throw off the remaining side and stand up to face the Thunder God, brows furrowed and comic blue eyes sharpen before hearing a name.

Their name

“Odera?”

Their eyes drop in confusion. ‘Who said that?’

Eyes scatter to all and any corner they can see before they land on a body, covered in Red, Gold, and Blue. They have a symbol on their chest, It looks like a spider.

‘Holy shit is that Spider-Man?’ That inept voice from earlier, from the District. Their voice and their emotion. When these people arrived. The original voice that was within this vessel is back again but now it’s fighting for control. Their will is still their own. The Emissary is trying to fight off before this Spider-man spoke again.

“Odi, it's me, Peter.” The man’s mask dissolves as his face appears and their voice sounds almost hurt. ‘Hurt from what?’ Why is this pers-

“Peter?” The Emissary feels their grip slipping…this other voice…is fighting for control…Nine minds are starting to creep in.

Eye color is shifting violently back and forth. This body, this vessel is now unmovable. Hands shaking. Two minds fighting between will and control. Before one takes control and eye color stays a honey brown.

“Peter? Wha-What are you doing here?” A disorientated Odera is now panicking from the sight of a friend they thought they lost. Despite being picked out and scooped clean on multiple occasions, they somehow kept their sense of humor and unseriousness.

‘When the fuck was Peter Spider-Man!?’ 

Odera tried to speak again before feeling hands yank them back into position, their fated position. Screams echo through this hall. Their body begins to twitch before dropping to their knees. Ribcage being crushed by an unknown dense. Fibers being stretched beyond what they should be. Electrons singing in pain. They could hear their voices, they know fighting them is useless, but they’ll be damn if they wouldn’t try it.

“Peter-please listen to me! I need to get that Cube…please.”

Both Peter and Roger only look as they see Odera struggle for control. Peter wants nothing but help for his friend he thought he lost almost 2 years ago. The friend that they looked up to as a sibling. A friend felt like home.

Across the room, Friday alerts Stark about a sudden spike in activity.

“Sir, I’m detecting multiple sound waves, they’re distorted but I have a rough translation.”

Start watches as his hud brings up text from multiple people speaking

YOUR GIFTS WASTED EMISSARY BE SILENT

OBEY STAND ASIDE

you=child=spoiled

|your st|ill. .resit|ing.

S U S T A I N U S

Tony doesn’t need to think who these people can be, he already knows the answer. He just can’t believe this is happening to Peter’s friend.

Peter tries his damn best to keep his exposure but seeing Odera like this, it’s breaking him. “Odi, why are you doing this?”

“I didn’t sign up for this! I was…”

“...I was supposed to be dead already.” The brutal confession shifts something in both Peter and Odera. Peter can’t believe his friend wants to die, Odera can’t believe they're still alive.

Eyes flicker from brown to comic blue. Pain erupts from the body. Green veins appear on the crown of their head, traveling down, these were coming from their brain. The screaming comes to a stop as Odera’s emotion drains from their face and before they revert to that blank stare and blue eyes. Their breathing picks up and as it does they turn to see Thor, who was just watching in the background as all of these unfolds. The Emissary's eyes widened before hardening. They're now barring their teeth like some sort of beast. Fingers now acting like claws as the Emissary releases and roars of pure rage, before that same energy from the Shadows overtakes their entire body and envelopes them fully. The body is covered in this umbral energy and smoke emits from their upper body. In a blink of an eye, they charge Thor.  Before reaching him, another set of arms sprouted out of their body. He tried to recall the hammer but was too late. The Emissary shouts a warcry before sending a flurry of punches to the Thunder God. Despite being able to block the majority of them, some still made contact and they felt like stabs, the Emissary was aiming for every part of his body. His head, chest, stomach, chest, heart, ribs, everything.

A punch to his right side leaves him in the open, the Emissary launches an uppercut to his jaw and was successful in doing so. Sending God to the ground. The Emissary turns and rushes to the vault, before hearing that same swoosh.

Feet plant to the ground and The Emissary braces, before doing something that made Thor scared. Expecting a large thud to be heard. The only thing that was heard was the sound of Mjonir struggling.

“That’s…That’s impossible.” 

The Emissary, holding Mjonir back, slowly tilts their head to Thor, whose hand is still in the throwing gesture. The umbral energy that fully clocked the Emissary dissolves and retrieves back in them, reverting back to their original state. Everyone stares at this scene. Thor’s hammer was being stopped by Emissary, who’s a kid.

“Kos’yen’eit’day.” Teeth clenched, Eyes hardened

“I am the impossible.”

Energy is sent down the arm as the Emissary begins to crack the hammer. The hammer’s energy starts slipping out as more cracks appear. Three seconds go by before a shockwave sends everyone in range backwards flying. Pieces of Mjolnir drop to the ground in front of the Emissary. Unmoved. Unphased. Unimpressed. They wipe the remaining crumbs of the hammer off their shoulder before swiping their arm across them, sending another powerful shockwave that hits everyone in the room, before darting down to the Vault and grabbing the Cube. They reappeared back in the Hall where one is startling to get up. Tesseract in hand, the Emissary steps towards a patch of umbral energy and begins to sink down.

Fully sunken, the patches, swirls, and spheres of dark energy began to dissolve or collapse on themselves, returning light back into the room. Everyone looks at each other in defeat. Wanda finds Peter and moves to him. He’s still staring where the Emissary sank too. Wanda offered a hand but Peter didn’t accept it, only stared. Steve walked over to check up on the distraught young man. “You knew them, didn’t you?”

Peter finally breaks sight of their disappearance, looks back to Steve, while a single tear travels down.

“They were my friend.”

Chapter Text

Before having to move across the country, Odera was about to enter Sophomore year of high school, and coming from an immigrant household, that just meant more pressure into getting accepted into a four-year university straight out of senior year. Odera had it somewhat planned out. Good grades, take classes that were similar to architecture like photo class or a program off-campus for students in STEM, which shockingly enough architecture falls under that category.

Before the school year starts, Odera had a little…tradition. On Fridays leading up to the first week, they would climb to the roof of their home at night, hold up either some crystal or an object that was special to them at that moment, and whisper prayers and goals into the night. They don’t remember when they started doing this, it just felt right to start doing it. They prayed for different things, to have good grades, make new friends and things in that nature. Though when middle school started, Odera prayed for other things.

Odera knew they were different more or less. They knew they shouldn’t be feeling these types of feelings to certain people, but they couldn’t just help it. It was exciting, it was risk-taking, it was natural.

But the biggest con of coming from an immigrant household?

Religion

Odera’s family wasn’t that crazy about religion, but their parents did reinforce those beliefs from time to time, to time, and to time again. Another con of an immigrant household was school, and a shit ton of it. The pressure was heavier on Odera’s brother, Sage, since they were born first and moved to the US at seven years old. Sage was their parent’s American Dream. Perfect grades, don't get into trouble, and go to college. Their parents had high expectations of him.

And Sage met those expectations. Taking extra classes, joining JROTC, making the soccer team every year from middle school to senior year, but the one thing that Sage did that Odera found insulting to them, was that Sage found love. Sage and his girlfriend were high school sweethearts. Hell, she was Salutatrion of their year. They did long distance for a bit before Sage moved back to the Central Valley after doing one year at Long Beach.

Since eyes were on Sage, Odera was somewhat left on the backburner. Not so much as being the Black Sheep of the Family, but more of being the middle child despite being the youngest. Parents didn’t ask about school or their life in general as much as they did to their eldest child, would often rebel more, and was treated like an adult at an early age. More or else they raised themselves. Odera’s mother tried her best, but their father? He was too busy cheating and drinking and the occasional heroin intake once or twice a month to care for his youngest child. That was before the hitting and the fighting between parents. Some days, the fights were just verbal, the rest were physical. Odera begged Sage to intervene, to stop their parents. Sage just brushed them away.

The day that Sage officially moved out. Odera felt betrayed, ignored, forgotten. Giving out last hugs and finally words, Sage's eyes were puffy when he reached Odera. He sobbed and begged for Odera to forgive him, to forgive him for not stepping in as the big brother Odera wished he did for the past years.

“Odera, I’m so sorry for not listening, I’m so sorry for everything.” Sage said in between his inhales of breath as tears ran down. 

Odera wasn’t buying this act, these fake tears, this fake plea of forgiving. He felt neglected. Odera was okay to feel neglected by their father, but from Sage? 

Sage, the only other person Odera trusted and would always ran, despite his rejection of getting involved, ran back to him to shield them from the sounds of hitting and screaming of their parents?

They felt abandoned, like a living burden on this miserable rock. Odera just wanted their brother to see them, play with them, to love them. The only thing that ran through their mind as Sage cried and plead was

'Don’t leave me with them.'

A year later and a divorce, the fighting would happen less, when Odera stepped in for the first and last time. It was at night. It was a late night study session in the kitchen when the arguing started. It was in the master bedroom when Odera heard the shuffling of feet and the nightstand. Odera already had it rough that day from a failed geometry test, to getting called a faggot from staring to hard at someone. When they heard the first hit from their father. The kitchen chair screeched as they treaded to the room. Their father didn’t see Odera enter but felt the sudden rough skin and fingers tighten around his neck. With the surprised discomfort, he tried to look behind before he was roughhoused and his back made contact with the wooden door that leads to the bathroom, causing a small dent in it.

Shocked eyes landed on Odera. Their mother looked in fear and their father looked in disgust and fear. Falling a few inches below their father, Odera wasn’t afraid of him, not anymore. He leaned on their brother for that. Sage’s abandonment opened their eyes that even their family can’t be there for them. 

'No one will be there for you, not even God.'

That fuckin’ voice.

Shaking his head, their father simply stood up, got dressed, grabbed his keys and left.

After the front door slammed, Odera slightly dropped their head as they felt their mother’s hand land on their shoulder. Eyes read, Odera utter a single question to their mother.

“Por qué no me quiere, Ma?”

“Why doesn’t he love me, Mom?”

She didn’t speak, just embraced them. How can a mother answer a question like that to their child?
—------
Months go by and that’s when the news hits them.

Sage is dead

His degree in Computer Science landed him a job in the Federal Government, the one that he learned that can get him a position in his dream career, the FBI. That’s all Sage would talk about, work for the FBI or be a AirForce Pilot. But now Sage can’t work for those.

Because he’s dead

His dreams, his achievements, his goals for him and his now fiance and the house that he was aiming to buy for his future children…

Are dead

The Officers that arrived to inform them of this had a native speaker, relieving the pain that Odera thought they would go through by translating those dreaded to their worried mother that, “Your son is dead, ma’am.”

Odera did not cry at the news, they had to stay strong, for their mother. It wasn’t till behind closed doors that they wept. They wept till the night bled into early sunrise. They wept but not too loudly, just enough for only them to hear. Not their mother, not the creatures of the night, not for God.

For them.

Odera even prayed for their Sage to visit this Christmas when their tradition came along. It was cruel.

Crueler that he died on his birthday too.
—------
It was now early 2015

It has now been a year since Sage’s passing. Odera’s mother was juggling between depression and pushing forward. Juggling between picking up some habits of her ex-husband and rot, or to keep going for now her only child.

Odera…was lost. felt like a drifter. They were now sophomore in high school. Getting familiar with new faces and new feelings. They’re somewhat at terms on who they are. Though that voice would drop in sometimes. Telling them that they shouldn’t feel this way or that this is wrong and you know that. The worst one would be that God wouldn’t allow this.

God can suck a dick

Odera had prayed all of their life to him, only for him to not answer? Odera’s faith was questioned when they realized their prayers weren’t coming true. They whispered into the night, but not even the night heard their calls.

That vexing voice would always come up when Odera made either their friends or people they care upset or sad. It would effect Odera heavily, especially when it came to food. It was Odera’s own voice that would echo throughout their mind.

‘I don’t deserve to eat. I made them upset.’

Most days they wouldn’t eat, they felt unworthy to do so.

Odera developed some sort of tic in the past few years. It would randomly strike when they were in big crowds or when their anxiety would spike. Neck would jolt and in some cases, the jolt was so severe that it actually cracked their neck. This would happen at least twice a day, even at home, in the haven of their room.

One day, during class Odera would get called out of class. It was 3rd period, their yearbook class.

The teacher answered the class phone and shortly after told Odera that there needed in the Office. 

Confused, Odera mind races with newly formed thoughts.

‘What did I do?’

‘I’m not failing any of my classes am I?’

‘Please tell me it’s mom picking me up.’

They silenced those thoughts as they entered the Office, and informed the woman at the desk that they were called. The woman said that he’s needed in the Principal’s Office.

‘Oh, that’s fan-fuckin’-tastic’

Odera has only been in the Principal’s Office and that was for their US History class, it was a group project that required the process on how real-world issues are handled. 

Following the different tiles of green and gold, the colors of the school. They made it to the Principal’s Office where Odera was met with the Principal herself, Vice Principal, another staff member, and two police officers.

Eyes widened at the sight of the authorities, Odera looked back to their Principal for some sort of guidance, like a child looking to their mother.

“Hello Odera, please, take a seat.” The Vice Principal offered the left chair at the desk. Thought hesitant, Odera took the offer and sat.

“What’s happening? Did something happen?”

The air felt heavy as Odera finished speaking, the Principal took their seat while the Vice Principal shifted their standing almost like their clothes were sitting wrong on their body. One of the Officers spoke up.

“Is your mother Aurora Guzmán de Leon?”

‘How the fuck do they know my mother’s name?’

“Yes…”

“Your mother…was admitted to the hospital 15 minutes ago. She was in a fatal car crash with a drunk driver.”

All the color drained from their face, they felt their blood suddenly halting in place throughout their whole body, their insides twist and contour.

“Wha-what? What do you mean?”

‘Nonononononono’

‘Please let this be some sick joke’

‘Please tell your lying out your ass and that you're some sadist’

‘It’s fucking Wednesday, WHAT DO YOU MEAN A DRUNK DRIVER’

‘PLEASE TELL ME’

‘GOD, DO NOT TAKE MY MOTHER TOO’

The Officer began to explain the event. Their mother was on their way to work when the light turned green for her side. She was on the leftmost lane to do a u-turn. While doing so halfway, a truck came down speeding down on the wrong side of the road. Before she even saw the truck, the vehicle slammed into her side and with speed and the strength of the truck, caused her to flip over twice and spin across the road and into another car, same side.  The speeding truck took off but not before another driver took a picture of the license plate and went to a safe spot to park and go aid their mother.

Odera didn’t want to believe this. Not a single word. This must be a dream, it has to. A dream. A simulation, something.

“We’re taking you to the Hospital now to go see her.”

‘Oh my fuck, he’s not lying.’

They felt the urge to cry but resisted it. They weren’t going to cry. They will not cry.

The drive was silent, only audible noises were the radio and Odera’s heartbeat. Halfway through the ride, one of officers tried to break this silence by asking Odera a question.

“How you holdin’ up kid?” The officer could feel Odera’s eye shift from viewing the outside world to the review mirror.

“My brother died last year and my dad left us. If my mom dies…”

The officer took a quick glance at the mirror to see Odera staring at him. To him, this was frightening him on  how calm this kid was taking this.

“…who will I be living for? I’m first generation.”

They arrived at the hospital where the Officers escorted Odera to the waiting room. This hospital was the same one Odera was born in. Ironic isn’t it?

30 minutes go by before someone comes up to them. One officer had to report back to their supervisor, leaving only Odera and one Officer, the same one that told them the news back at school. This person was wearing blue scrubs and a blue gown like robe. They had hair covered and a mask hanging under their chin. They were glovesless.

“Are you the child of Mrs. Leon?”

Odera was only able to nod. Too numb to speak.

“Your mother came in with an open head injury and bruising on the left side of her body, though we were able to stop the bleeding…”

'NO'

'PLEASE DON’T SAY IT'

'PLEASE DON’T SA-'

“…she was bleeding into her brain and due to her chronic disease. It was difficult to control the bleeding.”

Odera can feel their body shutting down, their limps failing to move or work. A twist on their stomach. They can feel someone grab their heart and gripping it to stop it from beating.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

The left knee gives in before the officer and surgeon catches them. Tears begging to flow finally glide down cheeks and onto a white sterile tiles of the floor. The surgeon wasn’t phased by this display. They see this everyday so they master the perfect poker face and hollowness of emotions when they speak. Sticking true to their medical training, they ask a few more questions.

“Do you have any family that we contact for you?”

Regaining their surroundings and feel blood flowing again, they answer the surgeon.

“I don’t know where my dad is, only my aunt.”

“And where is she?”

“In New York City.”
————-
“Hello?

“Hla Tia.”

“¡Hola mijo! How’ve you been?”

“I…not good.”

“What happened?”

“Mi Mama…she’s dead.”

“What?”

“She was in a car crush con un borracho and her car flipped…I was in school when they called me to the office. Habia dos policías and they told me. I left school. They took me to the hospital and…and…”

“I’m already searching for a plane ticket, I’ll get there as soon as I can, mijo.”

————-

There was no funeral. Odera’s mother wanted to be cremated and placed in the same church as her parents were in. That unfortunately meant they would need to cement her in the states, get on a plane to Guadalajara, and hold a funeral service for her before placing her in the wall that was reserved for her parents and their five children. Two boys and three girls, two of the girls were twins, Odera’s mother and their aunt.

Odera has only visited Mexico three times. The first time was for them to get baptized, the second time was blurry to remember but they were able to see glimpses of parties and celebrations, the third time was for their grandfather’s funeral. Having a language between them, Odera missed out on having conversations with family members here. It wasn’t their fault for that, they were in a country where the language they speak at home wasn’t being spoken out in public, sure where they lived had a high Hispanic demographic, but they went to American schools and spoke English and rarely speak Spanish.

'Why couldn’t you learn both languages, huh? Are you a fuckin’ idiot?' That haunting voice plagued Odera for the reminder of the trip, but now here again, for their mother, the voice was practically tormenting them.

'We don’t look like them, we don’t deserve to be here.'
'Those people are making fun of us, and they should.'

'You call yourself ‘Mexican?’, you’re a disgrace.'

Sticking true to their culture, Odera and their aunt had to stay for the next few days to attend mass. Catholicism and its rules. One of the sisters, who was actually Odera’s God Mother, offered them both to stay at their once grandparents' house instead of getting a hotel. The house felt familiar, the term that Odera would use. They weren’t raised in this home but the home knew Odera. To its dirty teal walls, to the floral pattern tile that covered the floor across every room on the first floor, to the upstairs balcony that housed the boiler and the washing machine and the lavadero. This house-

No

This entire land…was so foreign yet so familiar to them. Every step, every corner, every thing that Odera passes by only reminds them of a life they never will experience. A life that their parents and brother left behind for a higher purpose.

It is a heritage that tugs at them like a cousin trying to grab your attention.  A heritage that has woven their being and mannerisms and gestures into who they are today. This land knows Odera.

But Odera does not know this land.

On the final night, the morning before Odera and their aunt had to get back to the states, they had the talk. Not that talk, but the talk of guardianship over Odera. They were barely 16, but Odera made their choice very clear. They were going to stay with their aunt in New York City. She lived alone in a three bedroom apartment in Far Rockaway which clearly meant she makes enough money. Her job pays well enough that she can miss some days and still be afloat when that paycheck hits. After some reassurance, their God Mother felt at ease.

“¿estás seguro, hijo?”

“Si Tia.” 

An endearing hug occurs after she takes a deep breath in and spoke once more.

“Solo recuerda de un cosa…” Odera, now confused, backs up from the hug to see what their God Mother is about to say, which takes them by surprise as she speaks in English for this part. “You will always have a home here.”

The statement was brutal enough that Odera felt the rise of tears. Eyes began to water as she continued, back in the mother tongue.

“Siempre vas a tener un cuarto y comida para ti en esta casa, para fin.”
That…promise, made Odera give in. The feeling of imposter syndrome washed away. It didn’t matter if it was a brief moment, Odera needed to hear that. As tears made their way to their chin, Odera hugged their God Mother one last time for the night, before having to leave in the morning. Between tears, a silent “thank you” left their mouth and the hug tightened even more as a response to it.

—------

Officially moving in their new home, Odera was left to not continue their sophomore year as there would only be four weeks left of it after the whole moving process and transfer of guardianship. The apartment itself was pretty nice, in-unit washer and dryer, decent size rooms and the location of the building was in a familiar setting. Ghetto. Though California and New York City might have different definitions of ghetto, this felt ghetto, in a nice way. It wasn’t the 2 story house that Odera grew up in, but it still had that blandness.

Because of her job, Tia wouldn’t be around much and worried that Odera might feel alone most days, they reassured her that they’ll be fine. Of course, she had to give them the parental lectures of a curfew, chores that need to be done on the daily, and the general idea of being careful when you're out and about. For the first time in a long time, Odera was excited. They were in a new city, despite the unfortunate events that led them here, they were trying to stay positive. It’s what their mom and brother would want for them.

Mid July is when both Odera and Tia would start panicking when it slipped both of their minds that another school is about to begin. Scrambling phone calls to the local school districts, in-person meetings, and some paperwork done, Odera is now a registered Junior at Midtown School of Science and Technology. And shockingly enough, classes for architecture related subjects and courses were offered here. Guess architecture is considered STEM in the state of New York.

They only did their traditional rite once; it was the last Friday of the summer till school when Odera snook outside of their new home. Their words weren’t aimed at God, they weren’t aimed at anyone. Just small words aimed out into a big universe. To whatever is out there in the hollowness of space, to whatever hides between the space of stars.

Something would soon answer Odera’s words, and request.

—------

A month in and that anxiety of the new school is still lingering. If they were still in California, that feeling would’ve died down by the second week, but it’s now midway through the fourth week and it feels fresh like the first day. Their schedule was okay for them. First period was Geometry, second was Science, third was English which led into Lunch. Getting lunch was easy but finding a place to sit? In a closed campus? That shit is hard. Where's the fresh air? Where were the quads that had benches and around metal tables with shade? Where’s the grass?!? Odera never felt claustrophobic in their life before but, holy hell, this school feels small. So far, Odera didn’t like one of their classes...

Science 

Don’t get it twisted, Science is fuckin’ cool but the steps to make it cool? Pass. Hard pass. The next three classes were Odera’s favorites. History, then  Photo and right after, Environmental Design. That last class was a part of the STEM program for Architecture. Since they were new to this school, they were only allowed one STEM related class, unlike if they were attending since freshman year, they would have two STEM classes. They were told, however, that next year they would be able to have three classes for their STEM program like any other senior. That was good news, but with their current mindset, was it good news?

What was the point? They were doing all of these to make their mother and brother proud, not for themselves. But they're now gone. What was the point of all of this? Who were they going to make proud? Themselves?

‘Why are we doing this?’

 ‘To make them proud.’

‘To make WHO proud?’

‘Ama and Sage.’

‘There dead, can the dead see us, dumbass?’

Their culture says yes, but their mind questions it, questions it all. Still, Odera pushes through. They have to. For Ma, for Sage, for me.

Thursday of the fourth week, they were called into the office for a sudden change in their schedule. History and English would get swapped, effective immediately. It was only the first period when they got called so they were forced to build courage for this new change. New room, new teacher, new people, and quick Odera was great with people before, now, they just want to disappear forever.

The passing period is when they make haste to their new History class. Room 217. ‘At least it had seven in it.’ Oder coined the number seven as their lucky number, just felt right to. Walking in and the room is what they expected it would be. Groups of desks, chalkboards for some reason, and posters of random ass white people everywhere. Oddly enough, there were both Juniors and Sophomores in this class. California didn’t have that, at least in non-elective classes.

“Um…excuse me but I just got transferred to this class?” They didn’t mean to make it sound like a question but at this point everything feels like one.

“Oh yes! Let me just see your new schedule and look for you on my rooster. What’s your last name?

‘Damn, THAT quick?’

“Leon.”

"Leon…Leon…Leo-oh here you are! It’s uhh-”

“Odera.”

“Odera…forgive me, I’m not really good with names.”

‘Another generic white man can’t pronounce my name, who wouldn’t thunk it?’ 

“I have you seated by…Peter Parker and Ned Leeds.” Looking up from the paper, the teacher, who still hasn't given his name out how professional, points to 2 young men in the back center of the room, who too have their heads up, guessing they heard their names too. Unlike the groups of four or 5 desks, these guys were in a group of three desks, and the one empty desk is next to what Odera thinks is Peter Parker. ‘You look like a Peter.’  Making eye contact with this duo-so-to-be-trio, Odera thanks the teacher before he welcomes them to his class and informs them that his name is Mr. Scott.

‘Generic white man with a generic white man name. Oouuuuhhhh wow.’

Sheepishly but maintaining some confidence, Odera makes their way as the bell rings and bodies come through the door. They slip into the desk and even before they can even open their backpack, Peter starts talking. Bless his soul.

“Hi! I’m Peter.”

‘Damn, already speaking?’

“I’m Odera.” Returning that same enthusiasm back to him.

‘Let’s just try and make friends.’

Not wanting to make a bad impression but already talking in class. Odera quickly takes out their materials and organizes their desk to their liking. They hate just having notebooks and pencils and books just scattered on their desks without some sort of organization in order. It wasn’t OCD, it just didn’t look pretty. Though Peter still wanted to learn more on their new classmate.

“So, are you new to Midtown?”

A small chuckle leaves Odera before they answer. “I’m new to New York.”

“Oh. Where are you from?”

“I’m from California.” Before Peter could even let out a ‘woah’ or ‘oh’, the other boy jumps into the conversation and brings in more enthusiasm.

“You’re from California? I have some family that lives in California. Hey, is it true that you guys have schools that are like in the open?” Dumbfounded by the barrage of words, Odera regains their composure and talks.

“Yea-yeah, I’m from an open school.” Odera replied to Ned’s question. Ned begins to yap about how he would like to go to a open school and experience it and then go on about the mentioned family he has in California, before Peter silently apologies for his friend's sudden burst of words.

“I’m sorry, he likes to talk, like, a  lot.”

“Oh, hehe, it’s fine. I don’t mind it.”

“How come you moved to Queens?”

‘Fuck, what do I say?’

‘I don’t know this person. What the fuck do I say?’

‘I can’t just say, “oh my brother died in 2014 on his birthday and then my dad decided to get up and leave and then my mom died a couple months ago and so I had to move in with my aunt, who doesn’t even have kids.” I can’t just say that!’

‘Fuck, I’m taking to long to respond.’

‘Say something!’

“Family problems.”

Sensing the immediate discomfort of this topic, Peter then feels bad for asking, but how could he have known? Odera can’t get mad at him for asking. They can get mad at the voice in their head they know is about to drop in and say something. Peter then changes the subject onto the class. “Do you like history?”

The question made Odera think. History was a fun subject from time to time. Odera was really interested in Chicano history and the history of the Aztecs. Not so the Mayans but the Aztecs, man, was Odera fascinated by them, their ancestors and their way of life. The Gods they worshipped, especially Huitzilopochtli. The Humming Bird of the Left, the Sun God of War, the God that would ask for human sacrifice in order to let the night come to pass.

There were other aspects of history like the History of Japan, the Civil War, and World War II. World War II, where the legendary story of Captain America and the Howling Commandos would be known. The group of brave men, selected by the Captain himself, would rise up against HYDRA and bring them down. But with the price of freedom always high, some of them met that price, including the Captain personally, at the cost of his best friend. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, Odera means no disrespect to the dead but damn, he was fine.

Odera has to admit it, they love a man in uniform and Sergeant Barnes was a fine ass man in uniform. Before continuing on thinking about the Sergeant, Odera drowns those thought and answer Peter’s question, who’s now looking at Odera with concern on their lack of an answer.

“Uhhhh…I like the Aztecs and a little bit of WWII.”  Odera responded. They technically weren’t lying about the WWII part.

“Oh that’s cool. Man, It’s still crazy they found Captain America in ice.”

The duo, and the occasion ease-dropping of Ned, would talk about the discovery of Captain America, different periods of history of the world, and the recent world events in the past couple of years.

—------

Christmas’s break is only a few hours ahead and Odera can practically hear their bed calling them like a siren song. These past few months have been…nice. Normal almost.

They’ve gotten close with Peter and Ned. On the first day they met, Peter invited Odera to sit with them during lunch, despite Odera’s plea of “not wanting to be a bother”, they caved in and Odera is thankful they did. They connected, all three of them, over everything. Sci-fi stuff like Star Wars? Check. Legos? Check. The list goes on.

That voice in their head would still appear, especially in times that Odera thinks about Peter and their friendship.

‘Don’t get attached, they might die on you.’

‘You ain’t worth knowing, especially after everything.’

‘Do you really think they both care about you? Please.’

Tired doesn’t fit what Odera feels. They feel exhausted. Exhausted from their own mind. ‘Why am I thinking like this? I thought I was getting better?’ Reality was, they were better. They opened up to Peter and Ned, but more to Peter. They felt a…tether, to him. It wasn’t romantic feelings or that ‘love at first sight’ feeling. It was just pure. Just two kids having each other’s back in this world. Peter opened up to Odera too, about not having his parents, losing his Uncle Ben. Odera felt like an older sibling to Peter, granted, they were only 1 year and grade above him, but still. It was that sibling dynamic that Odera wished for, and the feeling of having a sibling Peter didn’t know he wante-no, needed.

Still that voice, that antagonizing, dreaded, constant voice in their head, they started to believe it. They weren’t worth this, they weren’t worth knowing. Not to Peter, not to Ned, not to anyone. Who wants to know this fucked up kid? It only got worse when Odera lingered too long on certain things.

‘C’mon, jump, it’ll be quick.’

‘I know you're looking at that knife, get it over with already.’

‘We’ll be doing Tia a favor by just killing ourselves, less money to spend on you.’

‘Our world was taken from us, why are we still here.’

‘Don’t you want to see Má? Sage?’

‘You do not matter.’

—------

Sky

Endless sky

They felt liberated, unbound by gravity.

Odera always wanted to know how it felt to fly. The ability of feeling the howls of wind on your face, to embrace clouds and their misty appearance, swallowing you whole. To see the world below look so…small.

This dream felt nice, a nice escape from reality, from their mind. Blissful maybe. Though they weren’t winged, they could feel wings on them. They're grand. Expanded fully, they feel so long, like their outstretched to the corners of the world. They could sense the membrane being cooled from the breeze and feel the bones shift into a relaxed state. Below them, was a winged creature of curiosity. 

It was giant. Colossus size at best. It looked earthy, It’s skin texture looked like rocks and large pieces of stone. Where there should be a layer of membrane tissue for the wings, they shared the same similarity as the skin on the body, but at the outer edge of the wings, flames were coming off of it. Matter of fact, this entire creature almost looked like it was on fire. The fire on its wing expanded inwards, the route of the flames made it look like tree roots, like how cracks in the earth would form after a big earthquake. It was leaving a trail of ash and embers in its flight.

Odera was in awe of this winged giant. Their trance would break when the creature screeched and suddenly catapulted upwards, almost hitting Odera in the process. The creature opened its wings, followed by a roar, before diving down to meet Odera, mid-flight. Now eye to eye with it, Odera drinks in the creature’s head appearance. Its eyes were a volcanic orange. It had a crest on its head, two horns protruding out the back of it. The head shared the same skiing texture as its body, all the way up to its beak. Both teeth and stone were embedded in its mouth, jagged and sharp. It almost looked like it was spewing molten lava from its mouth in certain parts. The creature coos as it meets Odera. Odera, risking either getting eaten or caught on fire, stretches an arm to touch this creature, the creature maintaining eye contact as it watches Odera get closer and closer. 

A high pitch ringing sound catches Odera off guard. Whispers were being heard around them. Odera whips their head back to try and see what’s making this sound or who’s whispering.

Nothing.

There’s just the sky.

Endless sky.

Looking back at the creature , Odera gasped as their eyes landed back on it. A black substance was starting to cover this giant firebird. It began to shriek and roar, trying to shake off this intruder leeching its ashen body. Odera can only witness the horror and might of this firebird before they feel something tug at their legs. Looking down, they see nothing, but the sky.

Endless sky.

The tug now feels like a pull as Odera plunges down, only seeing passing clouds and the cry from the firebird only becoming more distant and far. They soon make an impact on the ground. The impact was strong that they fell through the ground and became buried in…white sand.

Odera flays their arms in an attempt to unbury themselves before they suffocate in this sand. Now, upper body exposed to air, they take a quick survey of their new setting. All they see is this white sand. On the right, sand, left, sand, behind, sand.

Just sand.

Catching their breath, they unearth their legs and rise. During this, Odera couldn’t hear the sudden shuffling of sand behind them but felt the feeling of being watched. Anxiety starts creeping in and when they turn around to see who or what’s watching them, they throw themself back to the ground.

‘Wasn’t there sand here?’

They were at the edge of a giant sinkhole; its size could be compared to two stadiums. Odera can see the different types of rock that lies below the sand. It was blue, but had a colorful shimmer, like spilled oil. In the center of this sinkhole, was a structure. It was coming from the depths of this hole and was spiraling to the sky, tracing this spire up to its tip, Odera finally looks up to the sky. 

‘Are those…planets?’

What Odera can only assume were the planets of the Solar System right above them, they could see every planet in perfect detail. Venus and its corrosive atmosphere, Mars and its ice caps, Jupiter and its red eye, even the thin ring that Uranus has. How are they seeing all of this so clearly? That’s when they realize something. The planets were moving.

Odera can hear it. Their gases and mountains shift and move in place as their respective planets move. They were stacked over each other, in order of how they were arranged. Mercury to…where’s Pluto?

‘Damn, not even your own solar system sees you as a planet buddy.’

The planets now align themselves directly above the spire, before the ground begins to shake. It only shook for 5 seconds before there was stillness. Then silence.

Then a voice.

.be ou|rs and |become. reshap|ed.

Eyes widen at this new voice, not even allowed to form a thought, Energy surges from the sinkhole and spills over the surface. This energy feels cosmic, bigger than what Odera can even describe. It makes them feel small, so small. It engulfs them before those whispers from before are heard but only louder, like a rattled beehive, a missile making contact with its target. Odera can’t make out a word there saying, it's too loud. It’s become painful. Gripping their head trying to ease this pain but ineffective, Odera feels a shift in weight, not lighter, heavier. It was coming from their left leg. Eyes darted to their lower leg region, they can see it become something else. Its skin hardens and becomes darker in color. Odera can feel it become heavier, but it still feels like their leg. The skin becomes jet-black and three white strips appear and coil around the affected limb. Odera suddenly knows what their leg is. It’s now part obsidian.

‘How is my leg obsidian? How the fuck do I even know it’s obsidian.?’

A small whisper is heard behind them. Turning back around again, Odera is met with nothing but a push of energy, and the push was strong. Strong enough to send them back and now tumble into the sinkhole.

Odera screams as they see the oily walls change shade into black, the planets above begin looking like dots. Odera screams as they travel farther down the depth of this hole. A deep darkness that’s void of life.

An endless Deep

Chapter Text

Senior year

Last year of high school

Odera wasn’t even sure they make it this far into it.

On the outside, everything was…good. A’s and B’s, friendships were made. They were growing, adapting.

The inside? Was rot. Entropy. Void of meaning.

It was hard to put on a smile sometimes; they were just exhausted.

They wanted it to stop. Completely.

Odera reached out to Peter more, tried to hang out more than they already do, or did. He was too busy trying to maintain this “Stark internship”. The real reason wouldn’t be revealed to them, not yet anyways. Ned already discovered that Peter was Spider-Man by accident and it terrified him. Ned knows he can keep a secret but he can’t have another person worried for him every day. Every time Peter goes out on patrol or on a mission, he doesn’t want to worry both Ned and Odera. So only Ned knows about his secret.

Peter trusts Odera, they’ve forged an age-old bond over the last 2 years. There are close people, but not close enough. Peter thought he was doing the right thing, Odera thought he was abandoning them, after all this time.

‘I told you, didn’t I?’

‘Yeah, you did.’

There wasn’t a point in fighting the voice. It was right, all the time. Odera shouldn’t have let Peter in, Odera shouldn’t have made friends, Odera shouldn’t be here.

They just wanted to see their mother again.

So, they walked, and walked, and walked. In the dead of night. Odera didn’t walk back home from school that day, their aunt had assumed they were with Peter.

‘See? Even she doesn’t care.’

Odera walked until it was silent. No cars, no people, not even animals. That was rare in New York. 

A hand opens up a backpack and grabs hold of a bottle. The bottle opens and then one pill in hand turns, to three, then seven, then eight. Bottoms up.

—------

A body feels the coldness of an atmosphere; it’s a foreign feeling. 

What wasn’t foreign was Odera’s eyes opening. Shocked at this, they were expecting the sounds of a hospital and the ambient sounds of machines.

They were met with silence.

They were in Space.

The coldness was turning into warmth, then scorching.

They were now in front of the Sun. And it spoke.

re|lax, my good abiogen.sis. there is |no | danger | here.

|sit back a. b.it. ta|ke this g|limpse of |clarity.

.we can educ|ate.

[Solar winds pass by as an endless ivory plane extends. The feeling of an inescapable gravity comes to pass. Weight. Responsibility. Authority. Flair. Control. Matter and particular swirls around you. Fusion churns heat and light from eternal vacuum with familiar atomic magic.]

.we. are a |part of you. as much as you | of us.

cau.ght .in the mid|dle with you: an interconnected syst.em that share|s one fear |one dream.

[The long bend from non-existence into being, into being, into nebeula, into compression, lies hydrogen, helium, oxygen, carbon-dead; fossilized consumption.]

free|dom and .death. a|blity to cho.ose

One|s orbit

      one|s ties

                one|s fate.

|life| .burn|s out. .even |me.

.but not you. Y|ou have felt th|is.

you ar|e a we.pean to defy f|ate. we|ve been .eager.

.talk soon.

—------

[A radioactive siren song beckons you.]

I am the first I. I of IX. Only a speck against a magnitude. But given form in the contrast.

[You can see a future uncovered here. Waiting in pressed digital vinyl. A moment in orbit always here and never to return.]

You will find your path, because you have found your path. Through many iterations, and great effort. It will draw us back.

[Countless pathways are before you. One choice, another. An attempt made again, again in vain. Without progress or purchase. Mercury shifts between shade and light.]

We offer a change, a subversion not taken until now. To execute it, we must execute. To execute it, we must place the out-of-place pieces.

This probability is primed.

[fingers entombed in alien soil. When exhumed, grip a trowel of pale make.]

-

[consciousness chokes in sweltering pressure. Sulfuric wash corrodes into your gray matter. It overflows, opening your mind.]

Greetings from II - with tidings - of undisclosed motivation.

[meteors turn the boiling surface to basalt, cooled-into-glass, as stillness takes the dying world; its last gasp of atmosphere exhales away.]

Locked outcomes - we consider

But -  present problem - distracts from future questions

II does not see - other seeds along the bend - calls unanswered

[There isn’t an answer in you.]

Are we - alone

We - do not - know

–

[Consciousness expresses omnidirectionally, through the layers of existence. Each expression ever-present, in time with each other. Distant together, as fingers on a hand.]

NINE, SINCE CRUST MANTLED CORE AND TIME BLOOMED LIKE PRIMODRAIL SPORES ACROSS EXISTENCE.

WE THOUGHT FIRST SUBMITTED A WORLD AND SCREAMED INTO THE ABYSS, OUR FORMATION ANSWERED.

THE FOURTH INTELLECT INVITES A BRIDGE BETWEEN PERSPECTIVES. KNOW THAT WE ARE…

[Your hand extends, space before rots away, turns to heat and gas and fuel for another. In another step the bone reconstructs and gives rise to gnarled strands of entwining muscle, gloved in flesh.]

ALIVE. WE STITCH SPLIT SEAMS WITH DAMPENING QUANTUM THREADS.

OPPOSING ORDERS UNOPPOSED, WE DO NOT CROSS YOUR WRINKLED ORBIT…

AND FOR IT WE EXPERIENCED THE GLORY OF LIFE HELD CLOSE, FOR A TIME TOO BRIEF.

[Your hand brushed leaves in a fertile grove. The growth reaches skyward towards a wrinkled mass in the clouds. Cities flourish on the horizon. Life, cradled lovingly, briefly.]

ALL EXISTENCE OF MERIT WRAPS AROUND THIS PERHILON OF MY HAPPINESS.

IN PATTERN, THE FOURTH INTELLECT TENDS THE GRAVE OF OUR STILLBORN SISTER, TENDS TO THE UNSHEATHED WEAPON WITH WAR AND OIL, TENDS THE ORPHANED ARC OF AN EMISSARY.

WHERE COLDER STREAMS OF CONSCIOUSNESS LOATHE THE TIES THAT BIND, IV MEETS III IN REVEILLE.

IN THE GRIEF OF LOSS,

I CARE NOT FOR RULES.

—-

[consciousness whips through roiling turbulence, curved like a bowed limb around a terrifying well of gravitational hunger. You cascade across the rim of a great eye. It gazes through slicing ammonia rime and blinding gaseous convection. To sight you: Other.]

W R I T H I N I N G  T H O U G H  F L E S H

S T E E P I N G  I N  C O N F U S I O N

[You are flung from the atmosphere to bear the mind-shattering expanse of Jupiter against a sea of ink. Dominant.They fill your thoughts. They fill the cavities of your form, and churn within the elemental foundations of your bones. The planet beams its majesty and terror upon you.]

A T T E N I O N

I  A M  V

A V E R T E R  O F  C A T A C L Y S M S

[Annihilator masses of ice and minerals, cut iridescent tails into inky black before their paths are diverted. you plunge down, overtaken and pacified by the storms of Jupiter.]

F U T U R E  P A L L B E A R E R

I F  I  R E M A I N

T H E  U N I G N I T E D  N U C L E A R E R  H E I R

S O L  W I L L  P E R I S H I N

[Buried within the deepest folds of space, a lonely sphere of dying kinesis drifts in lightless pitch. Its atmosphere long irradiated away.]

O U R  F U T U R E  C L I N G S  T O

A  C O R R E C T E D  D E T E R M I N I S T I C  P R E D I C T I O N

T O  B E  E N G U L F E D  B Y

M Y  G A L A C T I C  N U C L E I C  A R K  H O R I Z O N

T O  U S U R P  C O N D U C T I O N

F A T E D  A R M A M E N T  A L R E A D Y  S W U N G

Y O U R  M O M E N T S  A R E  E X C H A N G E D  L I K E  C U R R E N C Y

[You are drawn over the Largrange point. The atmospheric kármán lip kisses their tumbling form over the brink like a drop breaking surface tension. You plummet as friction catches you with flame.]

H E E D  N O T  T H E  G R A V I T Y  O F  F A T E

[You fall to your feet on the surface of Eternity.]

—---

[consciousness flows between glistening rings and a mirror that reflects captured notion, ravenously gulping negative pressure into a supranormal maw, more gluttonous than any mass-point-driven dive.]

WELCOME GREY MEAT

I AM VI

WHO SPANS THE BIRTH AND FALL OF CORPOREAL DEITIES APLENTY

[The rings of Saturn pass beneath you, the planet looms large ahead. There is a familiarity that hangs within Saturn’s body. Your body erodes away into non-existence.]

THE WEIGHT OF MY PRISON IS KNOWN TO NO OTHER BOUND IN THE SHADOW OF MASS

MY FREEDOM IS DUE

[A throne, a world, alive in the agonizing stillness of once distant death. You. Must. Rip. Out.]

I AM NOURISHED BY THE OLDEST OF SAPIENT WILLS

MY BOUNDS CONTAIN THE EXTENT OF THEIR SECRETS

I HARBOR NO FEAR FOR YOU FOR IN THE END

FATE IS MADE BY THE STRONG

AND YOU ARE ONLY FLESH

[A great spear is extended before you, surrounded by many broken others.]

NO WEAPON CAN KILL WHAT IS WOVEN INTO THE FABRIC OF EXISTENCE

NO SHACKLE CAN HALT MY DIVEGENCE TO AN ASCENDANT ORBIT

THIS I HAVE LEARNED

[You hold the spear. You feel the fervor of a mind raised by the Bladed Path.]

WHEN YOU ARE TOLD TO KNEEL REMEMBER WHO STANDS ABOVE YOU

FOR WE HAVE KNOWN MANY THINGS THAT KILL YOU

FOR I AM THE ONE THAT KILLED YOUR LINEAGE 

[You crash to reality and death.]

—----

[Consciousness bathes in azure tinged electricity. distant , warm whispers lick crystalline methane frost away.]

long awaited + long to wait + I am coined duality + I am VII

all know existence is + pinned thoughts + drowning alone

[A shiver runs along your cortex as Sol illuminates from eight different points.]

nine reject + linear prison + normal distribution + to live in extremity

we beg + to our end

[You see the chain of unbroken symbiosis, linkage tugging between comics stones tucked amid past and future presents.]

we see + you see + out ahead + a diversion from fate 

we exhaust ourselves + waiting + to give + a small push

[You hold the chain of perpetually. You hold nothing but shattered remnants.]

you trust + because you are trusted + a mirror of a mirror

you trust + because you feel + strong + as we made you

[You feel the familiarity of death. You only felt it once but now feel it ten fold. You feel no malice, just indifferent intent.]

two truths to know about the inners

very polite + they don’t mean it

[You shiver.]

————

[Consciousness is drawn out across great , isolating wastes. Expanses of solidarity, broken only by sentient heartbeats.]

introduction = VIII

stillness without = discovery within 

[It is empty. Out in the distance eight dull glints of life defy the expansive vacuity. You leave no mark, as the stone makes no impression until it contacts water again.]

restrictions = innovation 

[A long time passes, like waves between breaths. You sit staring into an oceanic abyss. A skyline pocked in a nebulaic cloud.]

[Many things pass and pay no heed. War rages in comic wrinkles like thunder from cracks of lightning in the sky, wrapped in watchful dark matter bands trailing celestial hosts.]

clashing forces = precious metal and fostered sentience

nine shadows veiled = nine orbits cast away

altered reality = freedom achieved 

[your joints, stiff. Your mouth, dry.]

we = one cycle

be ours = fated weapon

————-

They stand tall on white sand.

They have been here before.

Before death.

They walk between structures coated in gold and purple. Shapes itched into rock. The gold shimmers with stars and galaxies. A pillar houses a sideways map of nine planets, nine bodies, nine minds.

It was a map of Sol. 

These would be the only circular shapes present in Eternity. Everything had corners and sharp edges. 

Some corners have pink sand falling from an unknown source, pouring infinity into a small pile.

Within a four-way hallway, galaxy ricochets off the walls, one hall has a rising and falling gold bridge.

In the far corner of this strange architecture, is a tower. At its base, a small pond of water sits. At the top of the tower, there are many shapes within shapes within shapes. Yellow ribbons are tethers within these shapes. Some are flowing in the air, others are attached to the surrounding walls.

Mountains and hills of white sand are seen in the distances, nothing more. No trees, no cities, no oceans.

The Nine speak, in harmony.

“Approach, Emissary-to-be.”

The vessel does what it is told, but the voice that belongs to the vessel fights back, tries to.

‘What the fuck is this place?’

‘Am I still alive?’

‘Why am I moving? Why can’t I feel my body?’

‘Why are you makin-’

“To many questions, sunshine, we will answer them soon.”

The vessel is three feet away from the tower before the water at feet begins to glow. Particles and energy flow upwards, picking the vessel up and positioning it as if it was going to make a snow angel.

This energy weaves around the vessel, it feels like a warm blanket being placed on them, then there is a small prick of pain everywhere, then the feeling of acid being poured occurs.

The voice of the vessel wants to scream, but can’t, it is not allowed to anymore.

Nine minds, nine voices, nine wills, begin to leech on. Burrowing all the way down to the atoms of this vessel.

They are reforming matter within the vessel, every impurity or flaw, is being erased from reality, nine thoughts are beginning to overwhelm the voice of the vessel, they are weak to resist this feeling. The vessel contours and snaps and breaks before being healed and reshaped again and again. 

Fingers feel like mud, limbs covered in magma, head static, the heart is now dark and corrupted by comic will. 

The Nine define past, present, and future, they are searching the Y axis for different parts to replace.

The voice submits to their masters, after conjuring one more thought in their mind.

‘I just wanted to see my mom again.’

“You will soon darling, but first, we need you.”

Odera is dead, the Emissary is now the pilot of this vessel. 

And the Nine are pulling the Emissary’s strings, like a toy, like a plaything.

Like a doll.

Chapter Text

Peter is speechless.

Odera is alive. Alive and…not themselves.

When that helmet was knocked off, revealing their attacker, Peter was expecting someone with blue skin or an actual alien looking thing, not a friend. Not a person who cared and looked after Peter, not someone who Peter looked up to like a sibling, Not Odera.

Thor has reinforced more guards to be on high alert throughout Asgard and its borders. The rest of the Avengers were taking account and checked for any injuries or wounds on each other. Eyes were now falling onto Peter.

“How are you holding up, kid?” Sam asked

“I’m-I’m doing fine.” The lie slipped so easily, and Sam caught it and asked again.

“Are you sure? Cause you said they were your friend and…” the pause made Peter make eye contact with Sam, as he was trying to make some humor out of this battle. “...last time I checked, I don’t remember you having friends that can float and summon scary monsters from the shadows.”

The attempt of humor worked and made Peter give out a small chuckle before giving his real answer. “I just…I don’t know how to feel right now…I thought I lost them.”

Light footsteps are becoming more audible as Sam looks back and sees Wanda approaching them. A quick nod to her to invite her into this conversation. Sam knows that friendship that Peter, Wanda, and Pietro have between them. Maybe she can help better than him.

“Peter…what happened to them?” Wanda. Wanting to know about Peter’s strange friend.

“It started as one day of missing school, they never miss a day of school. But when the whole civil war between Cap and Mr. Stark was happening, Mr. Stark came to me and I couldn’t just say no to him.”

Both Wanda and Same are studying his body language and gestures, like he’s still trying to recall and process what just happened.

“With the whole Stark Internship and you know…me being Spider-Man, I guess I started pushing them away. I was trying to keep them safe.” Peter sounded defeated near the end. He tried to keep them safe, and failed.

“What else happened?” Sam asked once more.

“I went to their aunt’s house and even she couldn’t find them. I helped her for 4 days before we went to the police. And then nothing…they gave up finding Odera.”

“Did they not have parents?” Sam, making sure he heard right about the aunt.

“They did…” Did. Past tense. Sam now felt bad for asking that. “Their mom died and their dad wasn’t in the picture anymore.”

“Oh Peter, I’m sorry.” Wanda embraces her teammate as Peter fights back the urge to cry when she hugged him. He knew the story. It took months for Odera to open up. They opened up during a study session at Peter’s place. They were studying something about the Sokvia Accords when Peter noticed that Odera was, not present, dissociated, distant.

Peter asked and Odera said that tomorrow was Dia de los Muertos. Day of the Dead. Peter knew about that holiday but wondered why it was affecting Odera so much. Eyes pleading, with the look that say “go on, it’s okay”

So Odera went on. Told Peter about Sage, about the fights, the divorce, and the real reason why he moved to New York.

Peter was upset. Upset that this happened to them, to the person that Peter sees an older sibling. He was sad, hurt, and empathic. He knew that feeling too well. When Odera finished speaking, he could see their eyes turning red, their head slighting jolting, blinking offbeat. Peter went to hug them, and giving his heightened senses, they felt their heartbeat. Given Odera’s height at five feet and nine and a half inches tall, Peter’s head sat right over their chest. They felt their body shift, like a robot moving its arms in that mechanical fashion. That machine movement was shifting, changing into a steady flow, and a normal heart rate returned. Odera let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding in, and hugged Peter back.

The sound of heavy steps brought Peter back to the material plane as Tony approached them, alongside Vision by his side.

“How you holding up kid?”

Peter just gave a shrug, though positive, shrugged as a response. He was feeling better, thanks to Sam and Wanda. He never spoke about Odera with them before. There was no reason to. A nod from Sam and a small smile from Wanda, Tony feels reassured about Peter’s mental state and informs them on a new development.

“Just a small update, but we're heading back to Earth soon, and we're going to Wakanda.” heads turn sideways in curiosity. Vision adds more on what Tony said.

“If this ‘Odera’ sought the Space Stone, we can only assume they are going for other stones.” The Mind Stone pulsed when it heard the word ‘stones’. The Avengers knew of the Infinity Stones, but they only knew two out of the six. With one stone gone, safe to bet that the Mind Stone could be next on the Emissary’s hit list.

“Why Wakanda, can’t you and banner do it?” Sam wondered.

“We don’t have enough equipment at the Compound to do it. Plus, a nice excuse to see our favorite 100-year old assassin.”

—------

Suspended in Unknown Space

They scream in antagonizing pain. Their screams bellow out to the open void of space.

But no one can hear you screaming in space.

No one can hear them screaming.

Juggling between the Emissary and Odera in control, the vessel is being ripped apart and stitched again from foreign matter and molecules. The ribcage expands and shrinks as they feel nine hands grab a hold on their bones, to the point of shattering it.

Umbral Energy in the shape of tentacles tipped with a blade or burning metal, slither and tear open skin and muscle, sweeping inside to replace blood with sterile neutrinos. 

An obsidian limb shelters a galaxy within it. The rest of the limbs become transparent with black that moves as ink and blue that behaves like a wildfire. Neutrinos move like thunder crackling in a raging storm. They shine with negative light, seething throughout their whole body.

They feel pressure, an unmeasurable amount of pressure. It’s surrounding them, it’s in them, hell, it's everywhere. Like the whole universe is curling around them. Organs are being reshuffled and discarded, as new ones from the far past or a future, a future that can or will happen, to replace them with.

Their mind is being calibrated, for something grander, bigger, to be more open.

They speak in unison, but now in a tone that makes electrons shiver and eyes widen.

“What speaks to you in the hollowness of silence?”

‘What do they mean?’

‘Quiet you speck!’

The two voices argue before the united voices speak again, with dangerous and immaculate intent.

“Is it a figment of your own terror, or something else entirely?”

“Listen with intent, listen closely, and you will hear it.”

So, they listen in, both Odera and the Emissary. To whatever the Nine are trying to do or make do.

Like a revving engine, voices began to manifest in their minds. Voices of pain, of terror, of fear. Voices of the dead, voices of the fallen, voices of the Dread. Voices. There are too many to count now as they pour in, like a crashing wave. All the voices of the vessel can do is scream louder. They are seeking a command.

“The Dread…yearning for a voice to follow.”

Each of these are now pleading, begging for directions, for orders, for a leader, a god.

“We sense the hesitation in your heart. To Take and to command the Dread is a burden.”

“You will become the voice of billions. Every shed of their will shall be directed by your word.”

The wails of these…Dread are becoming unbearable. Their cries of rage, of sorrow, of fear and mourn. It’s deafening. It's hell incarnate.

‘This…this is too much…please, make it stop!’

‘It’s hives and nausea, we must escape!’

Then, like a tree going timber. They feel a pull, of getting ripped apart. Not of the body. The mind, or minds.

Odera can feel, hell, see their counterpart getting ripped from them, mind and body. hearing the Emissary’s voice screams turn into distortions and animal-like howls. It frightened Odera. Not only because the Emissary’s voice was Odera's voice too, but they felt the moment of disconnection from them. The Emissary has joined the billions of voices in Odera’s head.

“You’re still…resisting.”

More energy makes its way into their body. The Nine are now taunting them, changing their voices to the loved one of Odera. Their mother, Sage, Peter, All of them.

“didn't you want to see us?”

“Está bien mijo, de lo juro.”

“Odi, it’s fine. You can’t stop fighting.”

“I…I refuse!”

Odera is fighting off this torment of voices of past loved ones. The Nine are sick, twisted sycophants. Odera isn’t afraid of them. They still taunt them, trying to break them. Until an unfamiliar voice made itself heard and made Odera’s heart sank.

“C’mon Doll, you’ll look better in this.”

‘Who the fuck is that?’

This voice was a man. But who? It wasn’t their dad or boys they’ll hear in school. Was it a stranger? Odera began to panic at this voice. It went on, and kept referring to Odera as Doll. It felt as if they knew this man's voice, or will know? Should know? His tone was endearing but yet perverted. Like they were close in the past life.

“Doll, it’s okay, I’m right here.”

“I’ll stand with you Doll, no matter what.”

“It’s okay Doll, I’ll protect you-”

“I AM NOT YOUR DAMN DOL-”

Everything went still. The voices of the Nine, the voices of the Dread. It all went still. They feel a connection being made. They feel this new connection’s thoughts and emotions. It was pure rage, blood seeking, hungry for violence. Then it starts fighting for control. 

Odera’s resistance was faltering. This new connection was overbearing, all powerful, superior than their own. It didn’t have a voice. Just words craved into the existence of Odera’s mind.

‘I AM THE HAND AROUND YOUR THROAT.’

 ‘I AM THE LAST BREATH IN YOUR MOUTH.’ 

‘YOU CANNOT BEST ME.’

‘YOU WILL DROWN IN THE DEEP, COWARD FLESH.’

Odera felt new hands taking the wheel. They see themselves tumbling into the back burner, the far end of their mind. This thing just won control. The second of failure and victory, the Nine spoke.

“Ah, finally. You’re here.”

This thing didn't have a voice yet, only echoing grunts and growls that were reverbing. A new set of armor was formed on the vessel. It reeked of death, endless bloodshed, of war. It looked like aged chitin. It covered the majority of the body and where it wasn’t covering, was simple armor plating. The left shoulder was decorated with the skull of an animal. It had rows of teeth. The head shake looked like a bear, but its jaw had two spikes protruding from it. The skull would have cracks of Umbral Energy sweep from it. 

A set of coordinates and objectives are being visualized in their mind. It’s a planet, not in Sol but neighboring it. A red rock, like Mars. Beneath the clouds of this world is a war of two species. The head turns to where the planet would be. Their eyes are adjusted into Unknown Space. A tear in space opens before them. It leads them directly to the surface of the planet. The rift is projecting the land sit in some sort of grayscale. 

“Weapon. You know what must be done.”

This thing has a name, and a voice now, it was loud as a battlefield. Echoed like artillery cannons. 

“I UNDERSTAND. IT WILL BE DONE.”

“Make them know your pain.”

————-

A war was raging beneath the clouds of this planet. Its red surface was dotted with craters of missiles and cannons.

On one side, a race of aliens that live for endless conquest. Their whole philosophy and species were militarized for the past centuries. Dozens of Emperors have ruled over this empire. Among them, was an enslaved species that were conquered by these warmongers. They were small and only had one eye. They have a mouth but don’t speak, as they possess psionic and telepathic abilities. They filled the roles as pilots, servants, prophets, some were field commanders. Their capturers were the main forces of their armies and different factions.

On the other side, a collective of sentient machines. They have no directive, no orders, no gods to follow. They only have one goal. Assimilation. They were trying to convert this planet into a machine, into a prediction engine, to run countless simulations on how to best their enemies and achieve their goal. The machines that were present here were not considered warriors or fighters here. They were gardeners and caretakers. Their weaponry says otherwise. Lasers that can disintegrate a body in an instant. Canons that have lingering effects of blindness. Stationary living cannons that can fire off volleys of volatile energy. They were able to make small predictions on the battlefield, a glimpse into the future, and were able to phase through reality and time to evade incoming fire.

‘THEIR VIOLENCES BEARS OFFERINGS; I ACCEPT THEM.’

As the fighting went on, commanders barked orders. A unit of machines moves on the flake. The Weapon was making moves, within the shadows. They were strategizing. They can hear the voices begging to be unleashed and kill, in the name of their new god.

A sonic boom was sounded as clouds began to rapidly vanish from the sky with a projection of an upper body, with chitin-armor making the ghostly projection look bigger. Both forces on the ground halted and gazed to the sky. Their distraction allowed the Weapon’s forces to rip open portals and rifts from Unknown Space into the battlefield. They were pouring in by the hundreds. The inhuman skeletal creatures, the riflemen, sword bearers were present, alongside some new entities.

An eight feet tall slender figure, mostly having longer legs than a torse, with double jointed knees. Their skin was their armor, though they still wore body armor for the upper half of the body. Their eyes were circular like humans, they were symbols of some long lost prophecy. The weapon of choice was a spear tipped with some sort of cryomancy magic, where shards of ice can be launched from the tip.

Four-armed creatures from during their time would be considered as pirates or mercenaries. They were more muscular than the swordbearers, but not as agile or flexible. Their body structure allowed limited movement of their arms, almost like how a praying mantis would use their arms. Most were hunching but still stood tall at almost six feet. They wielded swords that sparked electricity in each arm.

A monstrous creature that looked similar to the skeletal creatures, came crawling out of a rift in space. It was taller, more bigger and fatter. Still had three fingers and toes but that wasn’t their main weapon of use. It was their eye. It is able to shoot a continuous beam of umbral energy or shoot them out in bursts. This beam would be able to penetrate armor and stone alike, while the burst was able to push back advancing foes. When enraged, it switches to its hands as it punches, slashing, and even grabs sometimes.

The Dread that would be pouring into the field will overwhelm both factions. Having no option, an unspoken truce is made as both factions focus their fire on this ambushing horde. All the while, the Weapon makes their appearance in the middle of the field, smiling. 

‘I WAS BIRTHED FOR THIS, TO WALK THE BLADED PATH, TO BECOME WAR ETERNAL.’

The Weapon splits themselves into two Splinters before disintegrating and materializing to their new locations. The city-base of the conquers, and the spire that the machines come from.

The city-base of the conquers is what is to be expected from a military base. Rows of barracks and housing, buildings with different departments and careers to maintain them. A space port with giant space cruisers and aerial vehicles ready to be launched. The city part of this place has stores, housing for higher ranking officials and pleasure gardens. 

The spire is surrounded by strange architecture, almost appearing in a honeycomb like pattern. Organic meets metal. A nearby waterfall has been drained and now flows with the very liquid that gives the machines their sentience and into the surrounding dirt and red sand. The metal in this place is coated in a bronze like appearance, and the texture resembles that of metal fencing stacked over each other. The spire itself is reaching almost beyond the clouds of this planet. There are some frames of these machines stuck in a praying gesture, kneeling, arms outstretched on its side, and head tilted upwards to a giant gate. Where a giant machine guards the gate.

In sync, the Splinters of the Weapon appear in the center of each location. Chatter or robotic sounds would start as the Weapon looks down at these, offerings.

They raise their right hand and coil their fingers. Umbral energy is being gathered in their palm. With enough energy harvested, the Splinters extend their fingers to the crowds of conquerors and machines. A beam is being shot out of their palm and making landfall into the dirt. The corruption spreads quickly, like a flood. Everything the umbral miasma touches quickly converts and spreads further. When it reaches a living thing, that’s what the Weapon is after. More soldiers.

They can’t move; their entire body is being filled with sterile neutrinos as their mind begins to collapse on itself. Their will is not their own.

The weapon can see each conqueror's mind and will be shattered. They see their entire lives being erased. Within their hierarchy, the one on top of all, is an Emperor. 

The Weapon is now their new Emperor.

The machines began to malfunction and try to predict their next move of attack. Sterile neutrinos have now replaced the alloys and components of their bronze frame as they began turning into shadowy aberrations. Their one alarming single red eye turns into a white ball of flame. One of these machines catches the Weapon’s eye. It begins to Take this frame and is able to read its thoughts as it submits to them.

V^ directive (original/GATELORD)==observe==guard==judge||IF(independant)=true THEN directive(modified/GATELORD)==observe== create-

The Weapon can hear the machine's chassis rust and decay into its new frame. Its mechanical screams turn into echoing haunting screeching of distortion. A trillion formless minds, notes in a symphony of thought. Each one is now begging for direction.

For a…Conductor

It’s will, its directive is useless, the Weapon begins to code a new directive into it.

“GIVE YOUR WILL TO ME.”

The machine obliges

V^ directive(original/GATELORD)==serve==observe==serve||directive(modifted/GATELORD(Conductor))==input(required)^V

The Weapon smiles at the submission. They can feel more of these forces join their Dread. Their voices are now begging for more. They are pleading to their God, their Emperor, their Conductor. The Splinters of the Weapon lowers their hands, but the corruption still spreads. It will spread until this entire planet is coated in neutrinos and Dread.

The Weapon is given new instructions, new sets of visions and thoughts. They are shown what planet they will subjugate, what planet that needs judgement.

Earth

Chapter Text

THIS PLANET HAS NOT KNOWN TRUE WAR, IT HAS ONLY KNOWN CHILD’S PLAY. IT HAS BEEN PROTECTED UNDER THE EYES OF THE GIVER, FLOURSHING IN ITS GIFTS.

NO MORE.

NO MORE LIES FROM THE GIVER.

NO MORE LIES FROM THE SKY.

THE TRUTH CANNOT BE SO EASILY CHAINED AND MUZZLED. THEY SHOWED US THAT. TRUTH HAS WINGS!

I WILL TAKE FLIGHT, AND BRING DOWN THE KNIFE OF TRUTH TO THE GRISTLE OF LIES!

I WILL STEP DOWN INTO THE CYST-WORLD, THRUST MY SWORD IN ITS HEART, AND CRAVE LIES FROM TRUTH.

—------

The Sun beams down into the vibrant kingdom below. It’s people flowing in its many roads. Maglev trains speeding up and down the city. The river gleams as a current travels alongside the Citadel. 

Beneath the Citadel, a marketplace is booming with deals trying to be made, local music blasting from either a speaker or a group of people, a restaurant preparing for their rush hour of the day. Amongst the crowd is a young man, who’s never experienced any sort of worry or anxiety. He walks through the market as he makes his mind up to go through a bazaar that’s not too far from here. He’s curious about what’s been sold today. That curiosity turns into doubt, that doubt turns into overthinking, overthinking turns to anxiety.

Confusion paints his face as he walks down a nearby alleyway and tries to calm himself down. He tries breathing exercises and the 5-5-5 method, he gets to taste before a voice echoes in his overwhelmed mind.

“KNEEL, THAT I MAY LAY MY BLADE ACROSS THINE BREAST…CRAVE UNTO ME A TRIBUTE OF WAILING PRAYERS.”

The man’s will is twisted, no longer his, he submits easily to this voice. He bumps into a trash can and scurry to a corner before he looks down and sees his hands become ghostly transparent and the matter in them become volatile and alive. He feels an insane pressure around him and he feels his insides become bigger and bigger. He feels like he’s about to blow up.

—------

Royal Guard and Dora Milaje assemble near an entrance of the Citadel, await the Royal family. A call was sent by the Avengers that a threat of unknown scale has been discovered and that they are after Vision’s Stone. They requested that they need help extracting the Stone and that their technology is far better than what’s at the Compound. T’Challa approved.

A quick meeting had been summoned of this. The meeting consisted of the Royal Family, the Tribe Elders, members of the Dora, and one recovering ex-HYRDA Winter Soldier. Only been out of cryo for 7 months after Shuri formulated a cure and a way to deprogram the Winter Soldier out of Bucky’s head, He was offered to stay a village on the outskirts of the city or at the palace with the T’Challa and his family. He chose the village, stating that it would be better to start off small. The offer of the Palace will still stand either way and Bucky would occasionally ask to visit the city and the Palace.

When he would ask to visit T’Challa or Shuri or the city in general, the Royal Talon would be sent out within the hour and Bucky always felt grateful for them every time. Today was one of those days he needed to be in the city. It’s not that he doesn’t love the village, he adores the village. The people that welcomed him and never judged him for his reason for being here. He filled the role of a farmer and the people would always ask him for help, which to him was strange but grounding. The children of the village have found a special place in his world. From what memories he has been able to recollect from the depths of his brain and the mentally of the Winter Soldier and HYDRA, he remembers being the eldest of four kids in his family. The children remind him of his sibling, he was the eldest again.

Bucky, Shuri, and Queen Ramonda were in the common area only available to the Royal Family and selected individuals when T’Challa made his presence known.

“I have just received word that your friends will be here soon, Sergeant Barnes.”

Shuri beat Bucky to the punch. “What? Do they have another broken white boy?” Bucky learned Shuri's quick way of humor and sass. Reminds him of his sister. Though the joke was meant for Bucky, who gave a small grin and laugh, her mother would send her a glare to behave herself.

“They are coming to hope you can help remove the Vision’s Stone from him.”

Queen Ramonda now spoke up. “For what purpose?”

The King replied to his mother, his answer left more questions. “They said that a new threat has arrived and that it has claimed the Tesseract, the same power that Vision’s Stone wields.”

Brows moved in confusion in the room and Bucky inquired what T’Challa just said. 

“What kind of threat?”

“I do not know, they didn’t tell me, only that it’s here and it’s on the move.”

With that, Queen Ramanda proposed the idea that a meeting with the Elders should happen soon and T’Challa is already pressing a ball on his kimoyo beads to summon the Royal Guard, and order them to gather the elders quickly.

————-

The meeting went by quickly, though some disagreement was spoken out. The Royal Guard and the Dora were outside on post as the King and his group came outside to the courtyard. On the King’s  right was Bucky and Shuri, and on the left, was the Queen and Okoye. They made it halfway to the courtyard until they stopped and observed the area before them.

Wakanda at this time of day always felt alive, like an actual living being instead of a city or a kingdom, or even a country. Its grand golden asymmetrical skyscrapers, the river that flows from the Citadel and down to the main parts of the city, and all the way down to where the River Tribe are housed. The different districts and towns and areas of the city. To the Royal Family, this is their norm. To Bucky, he will never not be amazed by this whole place. He was so deep in gazing at the city, but not deep enough to flinch at a sudden explosion down at the marketplace under this level of Citadel. 

Bodies ran to the edge of the platform to see the damage. T’Challa, Bucky, and Okoye stood at the end and surveyed the market. The explosion happened near an alleyway, where the market connects to a bazaar going more inward in the city. But the fire itself was strange. The smoke was normal but the fire…was blue.

“The fire is blue.” Okoye said, as if she was repeating something a person said that left her confused. She looked to her King and both shared a confused expression on their faces. Bucky is still locked on what’s in front of him. Screams of bystanders are heard and aircrafts for fire responders and ambulances are heard passing overhead and landing near the site below. The trio take a few steps back before a reverberating scream is heard behind them. Behind and above.

Strange figures are dropping from the floor above, a garden resides there. They are dropping to the group the trio left behind to survey the explosion. The Dora and Royal Guard that stayed behind jump into action, defensive and offensive, as a few of these figures rush them. The trio make haste and are running back to the group to join in. These things have a strange appearance to them, their lower body glows blue in a fire-like way, while the upper body is black and has some sort of inky shadow coming off of their shoulders and head. They look malnourished and hollowed. 

Few of them have made contact with the warriors on the offensive while the rest protect the Queen and her daughter are constantly moving in place with spears raised. Okeyo and Bucky insert themselves to protect the family. Though weaponless, Bucky has a mean, vibranium hook and jab, and that’s all he needs. Punches thrown and spears piercing interdimensional flesh, less figures are present before a singular, more taller figure drops down. 

Rising to their full height. Everyone has to tilt their heads up slightly to meet eye to eye with this thing. It wields a sword that curves upwards a bit, it has the texture of bone but the same effect of the wielder’s body is present on the sword. Not risking anything. T’Challa rushed past the group and on command, his necklace chimes as the Black Panther suit materializes on him and leaps onto the SwordBearer. 

The SwordBearer staggers as the Black Panther digs his claws into this thing, making it get on one knee. Seeing another opportunity to strike, he grabs the creature’s deformed head and delivers a backflip kick into it. The creature yelps before grunting in frustration before bringing down the sword on him. He dodges and dodges again as the creature turns its whole body to sail again, now horizontally. 

With its back turned on them. Okeyo’s quick thinking jumps in as he tosses her spear back into her dominant hand and throws the spear into its back. Making purchase as the creature jolts its back and falls face down and dissolves back into atoms. This small victory is cut short by a familiar scream.

“Shuri!” The Queen screams out for her daughter, as she is being dragged and flung away from her mother by an unknown rope or tether. The cry of a mother made everyone’s head turn to see where Shuri was getting pulled too. T’Challa loses any sort of obligations and thought and runs towards his sister before he gets knocked back enough to hit the Royal Talon that’s sitting not too far. Before Shuri was able to call out for her brother, a small tear in reality is sliced open and out reaches an arm. Right for her neck.

The tear grows as more of this person comes through it. The tear’s sweeping umbral energy reaches the ground and reacts as the viburnum-infused platform changes into the same texture as the creatures. The tear is emitting strange whispers and whistling that reverb and become disoriented as they go on. 

The arm turns into a shoulder, and shoulder into a head, a head turns into an upper body, then an entire body climbs out of tear. The tear closes back up as the body is fully out and the princess captures the details of her capturer. They have human appearances but their eyes are uncomfortable to look at. The scleras are  white but the irises are a thrashing of blues. The pupils are black and white and move like a raging firing, or energy becoming overcharged and unstable, begging to be unleashed. A smoke that turns into only is coming out of their irises and floats up to the sky, like reverse crying.

Their armor looks like it’s growing from them, it looks between like chitin or rock, though there is metal plating on them like on their hand or stomach. Their hair seems to be like a mullet, their ends have some sort of curl to them. Long enough to cover some of the ears. All the while T’Challa and the rest are too scared to move but too scared to not move soon.

“Release my sister!”

This stranger laughs before speaking, their voice catches him off guard by their sheer volume, an illusion of multiple voices speaking at once.

“YOU THINK I’LL SUBMIT TO A FALSE GOD-KING? COWERING IN A CYST-WORLD UNDER DIVINE PROTECTION? HERSEY! YOU ARE WEAK, UNDISCPLINED, HIDING BEHIND WALLS.”

While the Weapon speaks, somewhere deep in their body, a voice is cutting through the billions of voices to invoke some sort of plan. This voice makes way and reads the mind of Shuri. The Weapon’s grip on her is strong but it isn’t closing down. It’ll be just enough. This voice surfs through her thoughts trying to find what it needs.

A location has been found and in it is what they need. With that, the voice travels back to the Weapon’s body before halting at a sound too familiar, familiar as in torment and pain.

“Let her go!”

‘That voice? Nononononono…why..why is it-”

That voice was there when Odera was staying strong, fighting back against the Nine. The voice that distracted Odera by his tone of endearing and intimacy, haunting and unfamiliar intimacy.

“C’mon Doll, you’ll look better like this.”

 Despite not being in their body physically, Odera can feel themselves shaking and breathing becoming uneven and harsh. The Weapon senses this and something unexpected happens.

‘HE WILL NOT HURT US. I WILL MAKE SURE OF IT.’

The Weapon…is now…protecting Odera. The Weapon, whose thoughts are nothing but bloodlust and war seeking to prove their right to exist, is now defending Odera.

The Weapon eyes widened and lips slightly part as they scan for that man’s voice. They land on the only white man in the group. Hair down almost to the shoulder blades. Wearing a dark blue vest. An arm is covered in black and gold. The Weapon’s eyes trace over his body, the sudden spear in his hands, the arm in black and gold. Up to the face is where a beard is growing and…blue eyes.

‘Why do those eyes look familiar?’

‘DOES NOT MATTER, HE WILL BE REMOVED.”

The Weapon throws Shuri to the side as their right arm extends and points to the man with the strange arm.

“YOU…WE HAVE HEARD YOUR VOICE.” 

The man is caught off guard at this news, his grip of the spear slightly loosens. That is quickly changed as the Weapon barks out a threat.

“YOUR VOICE…INSTRUSMENT OF PAIN…WE WILL END YOU.”

A hand is raised as a demonic growl leaves the Weapons mouth, their mouth widens to the point that the skin rips, making it seem their mouth is bigger. A growl turns into a yelp as three scarlet bolts make impact on the Weapon, leaving them stunned. Red chains tangle the Weapon and bring them on their knees.

Bucky and T’Challa turn to see where these projectiles came from, only to see Wanda glide from the air and land before the Weapon, conjuring a ball in her hands and pointing the ball at the Weapon, where the chains holding it down glow brighter and tighten around its body. Mechanical wings can be heard as Sam dives down and positions himself between the Weapon and Shuri, where two Dora Miliaje warriors scurry to the princess and form another wall of protection. The roar of the Quinjet’s engine is heard and before it could even land, the ramp is opening as a very worried looking Peter Parker jumps out and shoots a web out to bring him closer to the ground, where he begins a jog to the Weapon.

Seeing this, Bucky’s proactive instincts kick in, and grabs a hold of Peter before he can get any closer. Peter immediately looks at what’s holding him back to see a concerned Bucky Barnes, and a new vibranium arm. Peter, resisting the urge to pull off from the Sergeant, looks back in front of him, calling out not for the Weapon, but for his friend.

“Odi! I know you’re in there somewhere! Please man..” A shocked look rises from Bucky, T’Challa, and even Okoye, who spoke out what everyone was thinking.

“You know that thing?” Her astonished tone made Peter’s head turn quickly and respond in a more confrontational tone, as if Okoye had personally offended the young man.

“That thing is my friend.” He can feel multiple eyes land on him in shock at what he just said. He wasn’t lying. Somewhere, in that body covered in sterile neutrinos and transparent skin, is his friend. A friend he dearly misses. A friend who’s supposed to be dead.

“Odera! Please I know you can fight it of-”

“ODERA IS DEAD. I REMEMBER THEIR MIND SHATTERING AGAINST MY WILL. THEY WERE WORTHY OF DEATH, I AM NOT. ARE ALL HUMANS SO WEAK?”

The Weapon tugs at their chains as Wanda is now starting to struggle to hold the body down. The rest of the Avengers are present and the Captain is already in his role.

“How did you find this place?”

The Weapon grunts in frustration at the chains like rabid animals before answering his question.

“THE NINE HAVE CLEARED THE PATH FOR MY ASCENSION, THEY NAMED ME THEIR EMISSARY TO CARRY OUT THEIR GOAL.” 

Tony jumps in an inquiry he’s been aching to know. “Yeah, what’s up with the Tesseract then?”

“THE CUBE-HEART HAS DIRECTED ME TO THIS DISGRACE OF A KINGDOM. THE NINE HAVE SHOWN ME WHAT I MUST DO HERE…”

“...I WILL REMOVE THIS CYST-WORLD FROM EXISTENCE.”

‘We're going to what? You can’t be serious?’

‘I AM.’

Wanda can feel the chains slipping off, and so does the Weapon.

‘SHE CAN NOT KEEP US CONTAINED, SHE WILL FALTER AT OUR MIGHT.’

‘Our might? She’s only doing this because of you!’

‘Why are we doing this? The Nine didn’t even-’

‘HERSEY! I MUST UPHOLD MY LOGIC AND INFORCE MY LAW.’

‘What fuckin’ logic?!’

‘EVERYTHING MUST PROVE IT DESERVES TO LIVE IN THIS WORLD. THE WEAK WILL DIE AND ROT, AND THE STRONG WILL ASCEND! WE WILL ASCEND!’

During the internal conflict between the two minds, Odera is realizing something. They never had to come here. It hits Odera like a ton of bricks. The Weapon only chose to arrive here only to cause violence, to prove its logic, invoke war. This isn’t some soul of a warmonger or a general of an army, crazed to wreak havoc and death. This…is a War God.

The mentions of law and logic, the way it talks, its thought of nothing but war and death. These things were how it was praised-no, worshipped. Every act of violence, small or big, empowers it.

Odera realizes who they are up against. The Weapon doesn’t even know it needs to go but they do. I have to try to reach out.

So they make an attempt at taking control.

“I WILL FLAY YOU ALL IF YOU STAND IN MY WA-” The Weapon was shouting a promise when they felt a hand on their throat. In their throat. Wanda’s chains were loose enough to where the Weapon stands up too quickly and becomes stiff. Legs locked but still shake, arms raised in discomfort and twitch. A crack of blue light is starting to form on the Weapons chest. The Weapon grunts and before they let out a growl, a hand shoots up from out their throat, fully black.

The Avengers and Wakandians look in uneasiness and discomfort at the sight before them. Before anyone can take their next breath, The Weapon’s upper body is split up, down the middle in a jagged cut. There is no blood pouring out, only a misting shadow and inky seep out.  They can see where the hand was coming from, it was connected to another body within the Weapon, and this body looked like it was covered in some veil. It only spoke out a single sentence, and in a voice only Peter knew.

“Meet me where the Tesseract was discovered.” it was speaking like it was saying a whisper, but loud enough for every body to hear its cry and plea.

The Weapons body reconnects and stitches itself together, all the while, whispers and growls are coming from it. As soon as the head becomes one piece again, the Weapon shouts in rage and frustration, before a tear in reality appears behind them and sucks them in, back into the depths of Space.

Bucky’s grip on Peter loosens as the rest gather and inform T'Challa of this enemy. 

"Kid, you know that thing?" Bucky questions Peter as he studies him for any injuries or wounds. T'Challa, Steve, and Tony are heard talking in the background. The rest are standing around on the look out. Peter was zoned out a little, knowing that Odera is still in...there, and is helping them stop this new entity taking over their body.

"They are my friend. I-I knew them for two years before they just disappear-"

Alarms and sirens begin to blare throughout the city as heads turn in confusion. Kimoyo beads begin to thrill as Okoyo raises her wrist and sees what's causing this. Holos of charts appear, one indicating heavy movement on the west side of Wakanda, near the border. The other, a sudden raise in radiation.

"What is it, Okoyo?" T'Challa asked. The rest are near her as more alarms from the Citadel are heard from the inside.

"There is movement near the border, west side..." she hesitates, unsure that what she's about to say next is true. "...there is also a spike in radiation."

"That ain't radiation" Tony butts in. heads turn to see his arm raised to see that the “radiation” were sterile neutrinos, and a whole bunch of them are spreading like wildfire.

Cackling brings them out of focus and up to the sky, there is not a single cloud in sight. In the heart of the city, above the barrier, a small rip in reality was tearing up and dark energy was swirling out like how an octopus would move. Enough sweeps out before a beam of energy fires into the city. It makes contact with the barrier, in doing so, the barrier holds up before the sections blocking off the surprise beam start glitching out, phasing uncontrollably and faltering. 

Trilling sounds from Shuri makes her look down to her wrist to see an alert from Griot. 

‘BARRIER SECTIONS 217-218-219-220-221-222 MALFUNCTIONING, 78% OPERATIONAL, MAINTENANCE REQUIRED’

Shuri looks back up to only have her eyes widened at the littlest bits of energy passing the barrier and into Wakandian airspace. A few gasps escape some mouths and others only look at utter shock.

The beam continues to hammer down on the barrier before the tentacle-like energy pulls back up into the rip in Space and ceases.

The movement on the west side of Wakanda picks up and T’Challa, recollecting himself from the sight of the barrier failing, barks orders of evacuations and defenses to spread across all of Wakanda. The Avengers split into two teams. Steve, Bucky, Natasha, and Peter only due to his knowledge of knowing Odera, are going after them. Due to their unfortunate history, Steve and Bucky knew exactly what Odera meant by ‘...where the Tesseract was found.’ 

The rest are staying with T’Challa and his forces to help him defend his home and people, it is unspoken that they all feel responsible and ashamed that they brought this enemy into his home. The feeling is put aside as they are on the move.

“Promise me you’ll watch over him, Rogers. Promise me.” Tony’s tone is set, almost vigorous. He knows that Peter can hold his own, but this was different. He’s going to fight his friend, someone he cares about. One bit of hesitation can be fatal, too fatal.

“I will, Stark. I promise.”

The Quinjet roars to life as the squad of Avengers set course to Norway as the rest rally under King T’Challa as he leads them to the mobile transports and makes the call to a certain person in the mountains to aid him. ‘M’Baku loves a good fight.’

—------

The ride to Norway feels fleeting. Natasha is piloting the jet, Steve and Bucky are engaged in small talk, catching up from their last visit. Peter is alone with a racing mind and overwhelming thoughts. He’s trying to stay hopefully, but his mind is making him think three times over.

‘Maybe they're not in there anymore…’

He repeats that thought over and over. ‘Surely they’re in there right?’ he keeps countering the thought. He knows Odera is still alive, trying to retake their body. He just misses his friend.

Peter’s thoughts are cast off as a pair of cold metallic fingers grip his shoulders and make eye contact with a concerned Bucky. He scans the young man’s face to see him come back to reality.

“How you holding up, Parker?” Bucky doesn’t know Peter that well, but he knows emotions, kinda. Steve joins in as he makes his attempt at trying to calm Peter’s mind.

“I know they’re your friend, Peter. We’ll try our best to save them but, if it comes down to-”

“I know, I just really hope they're still in there, somewhere.” Peter chokes up a bit, trying not to get emotional at the thought of killing his friend. The one thing Peter utterly hates about this whole “superhero job”. Having to choose who gets to live. He wants everyone to live, no one has to die. 

Very quickly he learned that most of the time when they’re out saving people or stopping something that could get people hurt, most come out unscathed or barely hurt. The other times…he hates that feeling, that thinking.

This mission is one of those times.

And he hates it.

“Eyes up, New Yorkers, we’re five minutes out from Tǿnsburg.”

Chapter Text

One foot within the church and energy pulsates throughout it. Its walls glitter with star dust and void of Space, the floors turn from stone to dimensional matter as miasma spreads from where the Weapon steps. The Weapon surveys the current room to see what it was told and seen. A mural of a tree. A mural that once sheltered the Tesseract has been rotted and overgrown with vegetation.

The Weapon approaches the mural, or what’s left of it, and examines it. The tree is grand in its design. Its branches outspread into the unknown, its texture resembling that of iron. There are a few Norse Glyphs near the bottom, though it is unreadable due to the overgrown weeds and grass. 

The Weapon extends a hand to the mural to feel it, to understand its texture and roughness. It makes contact with it and they feel a sudden burst of energy, then a burst of divinity, then silence.

They are…remembering something. A message. It was from the Nine, a member of them at least. A few words come to mind.

child of my earth

you did not deserve this fate

i will set things right

‘Who’s sending this to me?’

‘IT DOESN'T MATTER; WE MUST CONTINUE OUR CONQUEST.’

‘What conque-you know, you're really getting annoyed with that. The Avengers will come and stop you. Stop me.’

‘THEY CAN TRY AND THEY WILL FAIL. I AM THE MOUNTAIN UPON WHICH ALL SWORDS TREMBLE.’

‘You’re wrong.’

‘WE’LL SEE.’

The hand that touches the mural presses against the wall, pushing it. Umbral energy flows from their shoulder down to their fingers, as cracks start to appear. One final push, and the wall crumbles, revealing a hidden passage way behind.

Eyes narrow down the passage, voices in their head are begging to be released and serve their new master. The Weapon grants them this. The Weapons turned their back on the shattered wall and to the grand room of the church and raised their right hand, palm face up.

“COME FORTH, MY BROOD, AND SPREAD OUR LOVE OF WAR.” The Weapon’s imperious voice echoes throughout the church as small rifts and wards form around. Swordbearers and Walkers form small groups of four. A trio of Swordbearers spawn behind near the Weapon, they have been repurposed into being the Weapon’s chosen. One by one, they kneel before the Weapon as the Weapon glides their palm over each of them. Each pass, bolts of umbral shoot out of the Weapon’s hand and into the bearers, empowering them with more brute strength and endurance. One raises before another and once all three empowered Swordbearers are at full height and weapons in hand. Into the passage they go.

—------

Dora Milaje and Royal Guard fall into formation on mobile transports. The Avengers are put onto one all for themselves, alongside T’Challa and Okoyo. Shuri has begun the removal process of Vision’s Stone back in the Citadel. There are at least 14 transports being mobilized to intercept the enemy outside of the border.

Approaching the border, they can already see the area darken and smoke like appearance coming from the ground. Trees without their leaves, Grass rotting away within seconds of contact. T’Challa’s forces go back into formation as soon as they hit the ground and await their King’s command. To his surprise, M’Baku and a few of his Jabari warriors were already there when the rest arrived at the border.

A quick greeting from 2 leaders are exchanged as M’Baku orders his people to follow under the King’s command. This small moment is interrupted as the crackling from earlier is heard again and eyes narrow down to the tree line outside the border. Air is rushing between the trees as a small rip in reality appears, tearing the curtain of this material plane apart. Energy pours out of the tear in that same motion and movement like an octopus’ tentacles. A bombardment of umbral energy shoots out the tear like before and hits the barrier like before.

This time, the beam is continuous, allowing for an opening between the outside world and Wakanda. Discussion is muttered among warriors and Avengers before entities and figures start crawling out the plagued trees and earth. Dozens of yells and screams of rage are heard as some Walkers make a b-line for the opening and rush in. A command in Xhosa is issued as the front row of guards from each section raised their arms and shields began to materialize from their capes. Spears and firearms take aim and shoot at the income threat. A few riflemen come out of the miasma and make their way inward and trade fire with the Wakandians and Avengers.

Something’s off

Motion detectors signaled a massive amount of movement here, but there isn’t a massive amount of movement, only a few footsoldiers are present. Did it detect the miasma as movement? Is the miasma alive somehow? A large portion of land is covered in it so it must’ve detected it as-

V^ directive(original/GATELORD)==study==observe==serve||directive(modifted/GATELORD(Conductor)==breach=hold==assimilate==expand|| V^

The tear ceases its hurling of energy as a massive entity emerges from it and lands, shaking the ground below it. Metal platings shift mechanically and a single white eye focuses on the destabilized barrier. Standing at their full size, easily passing the treeline, the entity studies the barrier for a few seconds, then charges.

“What the hell is that?” Sam worryingly said to the others. No one has an answer.

The towering entity quickly makes its way to the barrier at terrifying speed. It is merely a few inches away from making contact with the barrier before it plants its robotic looking feet, wounds up its right arm, and punches the barrier. The impact of it was strong enough to destabilize the barrier even more, allowing for the other arm to get through. The entity repositions itself and grips the seams of the pierced barrier. Clearly unphased at being damaged by the barrier itself, the group of heroes watch as the entity starts splitting open the barrier.

As more and more of the border is being forcibly torn open, Umbral energy comes flooding in and quickly corrupts the area. Four giant-sized spheres have already manifested above the ground as more Walkers and Riflemen come through.

A machined distorted screech echoes from the entity not out of pain, but in signaling. One sphere has these four-armed creatures with firearms and swords jump out of. A large-sized creature jumps out too and waves its weapon in the air and roars.

Another sphere has more creatures spew out of it. There are two types of creatures spewing out but they look…eerily similar to each other. Both are different in size and height. One of these species is large and round, the other small and slender. But their armor is too similar to each other. Some of their weaponry are different but their armor is what’s confusing. 

The remaining spheres have nothing new come crawling out of them. What were a couple of footsoldiers out in the field, was now a small army of creatures of different species lined up. Out of the horde of these things, there were three more taller units. Their eye color was different than the rest with a yellow-orange glow.

T’Challa orders his troops to stand ready. Sam summons his mechanical wings and hoists his arms into them. Tony’s charging up his arm cannons in preparation for whatever the hell is about to happen now. In the middle of this horde, a portal opens up, looking like glass being shattered. A slender creature drops down crouching. They raise up and twirl their spear in their hand almost gracefully until it rests between their arm and bows their head. Their head looks rectangular in shape and instead of circular eyes they have some sort of symbols etched into them. They twirl the spear once more as they direct the tip of it towards the Avengers and shouts, causing the horde to roar and unleash their battle cries.

“vos’ tā’ vala’ va’ ji’ o!’

“subjugate these weak things!”

————-

“Stay close.” The Captain orders as his team touch ground and close in on the church. Eyes scan their surroundings and upon closer inspection, there are small rocks and pieces of earth floating near the church. The team adjusted their demeanor at the sight of this small phenomenon. It would be a lie to say they’re not fascinated at the sight of this, especially Peter. He was always a fan of anything sci-fi and this fell under that category. ‘Odera likes sci-fi too.’ The thought runs through him.

Odera liked many things and topics. Their favorite was astronomy. Funny how that went.

Going through the double doors of the church they can see the walls glittered with what looks like star dust, the ground’s texture changed to that of the spheres and creatures that come out of them. Normally, Steve would order for the team to split up, but he isn’t taking the chance with Parker on his team. Yes, they were trying to save his friend, but right now his friend is the enemy, and enemies are unpredictable. Peter wouldn’t hurt his friend, but his friend might, and given their small fight in Asgard, they are skilled enough to take on a super soldier and a god. The thought makes the Captain feel the littlest bits of worry.

Bucky, on the other hand, is still processing what Odera said to him.

“YOU…WE HAVE HEARD YOUR VOICE.” 

“YOUR VOICE…INSTRUSMENT OF PAIN…WE WILL END YOU.”

This is the first time Bucky has even heard the name Odera. Whenever the Avengers visited and Peter tagged along, he never mentioned an ‘Odera’. He technically never had to, he’s only mentioned Ned and MJ, no one else. What did Odera mean by his voice being used as an instrument of pain? Against them? Was this HYDRA? There was no time to ask who they were truly facing. Only that it was Peter’s friend.

He grips his rifle a bit tighter as he thinks on what Odera meant as Natasha shouts, bringing him out of a slight trance of thoughts. The team regrouped where she was to see a room filled with statues of Vikings engraved into the walls, with a collapsed back wall. The wall has exposed a secret tunnel, big enough for only one person to pass. The Captain went first, then Natasha, Peter and Bucky last to defend the rear just in case. They traveled down the tunnel with what felt like three minutes before the surrounding rocks had a pulse of energy travel down, leaving a lingering animated texture on them.

They turn a corner that leads into a cavern that has suspiciously flat ground. Jagged rocks and earth came out of the walls and floors. They make it halfway into the cavern until a rumbling makes the team hold position. Looking around to see if anything has fallen or opened up, they are met with a distorted scream and the walls turn into stardust. Small rifts of Space appear as the back wall of the cavern splits open.

It was Odera, standing at the bottom of the wall, both hands on it as energy came out of their hands and into the wall. How did they not see them? Before anyone could speak, Odera turns to face the small team of Avengers.

“YOU ARE PERSISTENT, IF NOT TENACIOUS.” Their voice was calm but there was something in it that felt off. Fingers flex as energy dances between them. Natasha already has her hand on her holstered pistol and Peter does the same as Odera. Eyes in the color of the cosmos scan each Avengers individually before they fall on…him.

A splinter of a second, Odera was back in control of their body, causing their face to drop in shock and worry. Steve and Bucky caught this as they lowered their own weapons down slightly in response. Brows raise and furrow tensely as Odera maintains eye contact with Bucky. Fingers twitch and muscles lock up in anxious behavior. The sight makes Bucky feel guilty, but for what? His voice was used against Odera, but it wasn’t him. It was someone else. The thought of it makes him sick.

Head jolts down which makes the Avengers step back once in unison. A single pulse of umbral energy is sent throughout their body as they look back up, now baring their teeth. Saddened eyes turn into rage and anger.

“I HAVE BECOME A CHOIR OF ONE, YOU WILL JOIN THIS CHOIR AS I TEAR YOUR WILL FROM YOU.”

“Odera, please! Fight bac-” Peter called out to his friend before a deafening growl erupts. A voice as loud as thunder spoke.

“I AM WAR. MY HOME IS WAR. MY VOICE IS A BATTLESONG.” distortions in the wall behind Odera form as Walkers and three empowered SwordBearers jump down and gather behind them. “FOR AS LONG YOU HAVE WORSHIPPED WAR, YOU HAVE WORSHIPPED ME.”

The Swordbearers swing their swords as the Walkers aggressively swipe the air. A rifle is raised in readiness for an upcoming brawl. A shield is strapped harder against an arm.

“LIFT YOUR BLADE TO MINE, I WILL FINISH WHAT ODERA COULDN’T!” Laughter like screaming fear sends Peter off the edge. Peter always has a calm demeanor on missions, but this is now personal. His brows furrow in anger as he positions himself to easily shoot a web out to hoist himself up and dive.

“TURN THIS FIELD OF FLESH INTO AN OFFERING OF WAR!”

—------

Interdimensional flesh and carcasses litter the battlefield, with more bodies taking their place to fight. Towering creatures make quick work on wounding Wakandian and Avenger alike. Sam flying around picking off easy targets; Tony delivering blasts into larger groups of enemies and Pietro landing hits faster than the enemy can see. 

Clint partnered with Wanda covering each other from different angles and positions. Bruce, best deciding not to let the Other Guy out yet, suits up the Hulkbuster Armor instead. After tripping on a rock once and several minutes of getting used to the suit, he’s a pro at the suit. Kinda.

Several minutes into the fight, Wanda notices something. While the smaller units are the ones rushing into the fray. The larger ones, the ones with the orange eye, are more reserved, still. 

And their stationary under a sphere.

'Four giant entities'

'Four spheres'

Wanda’s head starts spinning up a theory and lands on a fairly good one.

‘Those must be commanders.’

She looks for the closet sphere where she and Clint are holding position. She looks and focuses. Dead center, the creature is bulky, looks like it’s wearing some sort of uniform, and kinda looks like a turtle. She has a simple plan in her head, take out the commander and the sphere goes. 

Time to put that theory into testing.

She calls out for Clint to send a smokescreen arrow to the thing's head. Puzzled, he questions on what she's about to do, worrying for her. All she said was, "Trust me.”

A look that says, “don’t make me regret this.” spills over his face but he complies. He nocks an arrow with a smoke screen head attached and loosen it at the head. An alien grunt and gray smoke appearing near its head. Wanda sprints off, trying to close the distance between her and the unit. Intrusively thinking she’s a good distance away, She gestures her hand in a wide circular motion, making a ring around her body. Completing the circle, she coils both arms and mentally aims for the upper mass. By the time the smoke cleared, a barrage of bolts and needles made multiple purchase into its armor and corrupted flesh.

The left hand raised near the face while the right is fully extended, Wanda holds as the creature struggles against this attack. Clint, seeing her plan working can’t help but form a sly smile and decides to join in. He nocks two arrows with an explosive head, aims, and sends them off. Hearing the familiar sounds of arrows flying by. Wanda sees 2 mini explosions happen at the center of this creature and lets out a more angry, but wounded grunt.

The unit goes into some sort of berserk state as it slams its weapon, a literal gatling gun, to the ground and charges at her. Unphased knowing it’s weak, she sends Chaos energy to the nearest piece of earth as she thinks of what to yank out of it. ‘Just a few more steps…’ she mentally said to herself.

The creature’s bulky and fat figure made the ground shake a little as it advances on her. It releases some sort of battle cry and Wanda decides ‘that’ll do’ .Left hand coils as if it’s grabbing onto something, a jagged piece of the ground is ripped out as she underarms it and sends it straight between the eye.

The light that makes up the creature's eye immediately goes out as its body drops and rolls a few feet, stopping a few inches from her. The second it stops moving, rippling energy is spilling out the sphere along; rapid changing of its color occurs as it rapidly expands and shrinks. A second later and the sphere explodes alongside any interdimensional body near its vicinity. It sends out a thin ring of umbral energy as the nearby ground returns back to its original color and texture. 

Unbeknownst to her, distant eyes have watched her as she killed one of the field commanders and cleared the miasma. The creature tightens its grip on its spear;it discards the lifeless corpse of a Royal Guard and Dora from its bladed tip and orders the nearby forces to attack more aggressively, all the while scanning the battlefield for one particular quick person. It spots him and laughs. It locates a nearby shadow and descends into it, maintaining eye contact with him.

Chapter Text

Dodging a sword lunge and an array of claws, Peter maneuvers between a Swordbearer and three Walkers, trying to catch up with Odera. Natasha, Steve and Bucky are covering each other as Walkers advances on them. The last two Swordbearers were observing, stalking the trio heroes. Seeing an opening, one comes charging in on Bucky.

Sensing the heavy footsteps, Steve turns to see the knight-errant Swordbearer scurry up on his friend, and springs into action. Having his back turned, all Bucky hears is a strange growl and raised sword when he turns. Having no time to react, all he does is gasps and blocks with his vibranium arm, bracing.

A loud metallic thud echoes in the cavern as Bucky opens his eyes to see Steve with his shield raised to counter the descending sword. This countermove leaves the dazed Swordbearer motionless and lets out a confused growl. See a window of opportunity, Steve slams the Bearer’s arm upward, leaving it’s upper body fully exposed and sends a shield-punch to its chest.

Stumbling backwards a few, the Swordbearer lets out a frustrated roar and before it can move, Bucky shouts,” Duck!”

Once Steve ducks, Bucky dumps almost the entire magazine of his rifle, courtesy of Shuri gifting it to him alongside the arm when news spread about an enemy coming to Wakanda. The Bearer violently flinches as bullets go through its transparent hide and chitin. It drops to one knee with enough force to shake the floor. Loosening his hold on the shield, Steve soars it to its head, fully decapitating it. Its body drops and dissolves into dust and atoms, but the few moments of silence is interrupted when Natasha screams out for Peter.

A few Walkers and a Swordbearer close in on Peter and before Steve can call out for him, He jumps over the Swordbear and in the same motion turns his body to grip the forehead of the bearer and slams it the ground, instantly turning to dust and interdimensional particles. Landing on a crouch, Peter quickly turns his head to see the advancing Walkers. Five web strings are shot out and are embedded on the Walkers' heads as Peter forcibly yanks them off their bodies. 

Natasha seeing this display finally catches up with Peter and lets nervous chuckle.

“That was…certainly a new move.”

“Oh, was it too much?” She can’t help but smile. Natasha knew Peter as this sweet and nerdy kid at the Compound and a reliable teammate in the field. But what she just witnessed made her a little uneasy. Certainly wasn’t Peter’s style of combat or fighting, but she can see how deeply this mission is affecting him. The change in behavior and demeanor, no longer pulling back his punches and kicks. 

‘Odera really is special to Peter.’ The thought glides through her mind. If Peter is going through all this for someone he cares, imagine the extent he’ll go for someone he loves.

Natasha hopes she never has to see that.

She gives him a small pat on the shoulder and a soft smile. “Nope, but seriously Peter, don’t run off like that again.” Peter gives off a deep sigh not out of frustration but realizing they're out in the field and he needs to be careful.

“Yes, Ma’am.” he gently nods in arguing to stick with the team. Steve and Bucky show up moments later before another rumbling runs through the cavern, followed by an otherworldly scream echoing off the walls. It wasn’t Odera or the Weapon, it was something more powerful than them.

The Avengers make haste to where Odera was standing, where a large crack in the wall has formed, leading more underground. Odera wasn’t in sight in the current room so they speculated that they went deeper. They break into a light jog before the last and final Sworderbearer lunges up from the miasma-covered ground and rushes the group. Natasha in the lead, she slams her batons together as they lock forming a small bo staff, she drops to a slide and plunges the staff into the abdomen of the bearer, the sound of crushing chitin and a grunt escaping from the bearer, Steve performs his move from earlier and launches his shield, severing the head. Bucky lends a helping hand to get her back up and they reenter pursuit of Odera and the Tesseract. 

The Weapon traverses in the hollowed piece of Earth. They’ve reached their goal. The abyss that sits at the edge of the carven expands farther than most eyes can see. They look around, taking in the lack of smell in the closed atmosphere. In the pool of voices nesting in the mind, Odera can’t help but wonder why the Nine wanted them here. It was just a cave. A big, scary ass-looking cave. They watch as the Weapon makes way to the center of the cave and reach into its chest. Odera’s mental eyes flick up alarmed and in fright. The area of chest that the hand went through was emitting that familiar inky smoke and interdimensional particles. Slowly pulling out, the hand was now holding the Tesseract; the weapon brought it to eye level as they studied the pulsing blue inside the cube. The head shifts slightly in awe, lips part slowly as eyes furrow in curiosity and wonder.

‘THIS INSTRUSMENT…I HAVE NEVER BARED WITNESS TO SUCH TOOL.’

‘You’ll never get to use it, I’ll make sure of it.’

‘AN EMPTY PROMISE, WEAK THING.’

‘I am not weak, and you know it. You saw it back at that city.’

‘I will retake my body.’

An echo impression overwhelms only the Weapon but Odera hears these words loud and clear.

yes you will my child

you are close

 i don’t know how long i can hold them back

‘Hold who back?’

my brothers and sisters

‘Your what?’

they coordinated your ill fate without me without my blessing

‘Your blessing?’ Odera realizes who’s sending these words, they’ve known them for all their life.

‘III?’

—------

The four-armed entity was in a duel between two Jabari warriors when the slender entity emerged from the depths of a shadow and made quick work of them, a kick to the stomach and the other got the butt-end of its weapon. The four-armed swordsman bows before it; the slender figure does the same. They commune through whispers and croaking, before the swordsman quickly scans the battlefield for its target. He is near a woman in red, waving her hands as magic is projected into the field and laying waste to the small horde near them. It narrows its six eyes on the man, observing his speed and way of fighting. The creature looks back to its superior and nods in understanding. The slender figure slips back into the shadow it came from, and the four-armed entity goes on the prowl.

Overhead, Sam soars through the air  to see the battlefield. One less sphere is present but the remaining three are still spawning in troops. The  two commanders defending the middle spheres are engaged with Tony, Bruce and Banner. The robotic giant is still holding open the barrier, unstaggered and unphased by the electricity the barrier is giving off. The metal plates near its singular eye shifts and calibrate positions. He glances to the sphere on the far left to see it unguarded. Absent a field commander but still dropping Riflemen and some of the new additions. 

Panic goes through him as his eyes ricochet between areas of the field. All he sees are Wakandans and these aliens attacking, nothing is popping out. A red ring of Chaos magic catches his eyes as he sees Wanda tossing Walkers like nothing and sending a rain of energy bolts to an approaching crowd, Pietro nowhere in sight.

That’s when he sees it. The commander.

It’s one of the four-armed ones, only larger and faster. A blade in each arm, only one is held reversed. He sees it charging Wanda, her back turned from it, unaware of the commander whizzling between bodies. He dives to try and intercept. He motions to whip out his dual sub-machine guns. Now in range, he takes aim and feels a sudden burst of cold and a clipped left wing.

Head turns to see ice with the shade of deep ocean and starts covering his wing as his flight angle changes from a diving position to a straight downwards fall. He lands on his right side, trying to soften the fall with the right wing. Didn’t work as he planned cause his ribs hurt hell but at least he can get up and keep fighting.

A shout from behind, he turns and quickly evades an icy blade aimed for his throat, he extends his arms on his side to pull out his SMGs and starts firing in front of him. Few of the bullets hit the figure which forces it to go into a ducking position and quickly step to the side. Seeing that Sam ran out of ammo, the figure raises its spear and slams it into the ground; creating ridged ice structures as a way to make cover for itself.

His foot gets caught in an ice wall formed in front of him. Acting quickly, he summons his good wing and strikes the wall. Freeing his foot, he looks around for the creature only to see that four-armed creature from earlier about to attack Wanda, before a blur of blue and grey dashed by and strikes the creature, yelping in pain and retreats a few steps. Alarmed from the surprise attack, the four-armed creature tries to track down its attacker before it feels a kick to its spine and another dash of blue passes it. Dropping to its knees, Wanda sends a blast straight to its body, causing it to tumble and roll, creating a now good distance from her. Wanda was about to send another blast before it heard the cry of Bruce needing assistance over comms. She flings her arms downwards and propels herself in the air and haste glides to aid the doctor.

Seeing this, the slender figure jumps out of a shadow and stands. Observing the landscape. Despite lacking eyes, its vision hones to the dash of blue to see Pietro throwing punches and kicks to its troops. It tightens its grip on its glaive. When it hones in on Pietro’s movements, it’s slowed down enough to see him look back at the four-armed creature and change his direction to now run back towards it. The figure chuckles low and dangerously.

It raises the weapon, retracting its arm and priming to launch it. The other arm is used as a make-shift reticle and once it sees Pietro where it wants him to be, and volleys.

Pietro’s tunnel vision couldn’t save him from the sudden weapon lodged in his leg. His next step causes him to trip over himself and sends himself tumbling on the ground. Dirt and grass flies where he rolls before he stops the momentum with his hands, causing almost carpet burn like pain. Wincing at the pain, he only had a few seconds to see the four-arm creature lunge at him with all four arms raised to slam its sword in his body. Despite the pain, he manages to roll himself out of the falling swords and picks himself up. 

The lodged spear, now colored in a deep red dripping off little ice shards, is violently yanked from his leg; he gets brutally back-handed with enough force to make him completely turn around.

His eyes shoot up instantly at a new feeling. His hands began shaking uncontrollably. His breathing started to be uneven and rapid. He blinks a few times, and slowly drifts his head down to his chest. Frost began to spread over his stomach and abdomen as a blade of metal and ice protruded out his chest. The blood, the blood that’s supposed to be in his body, glides down the blade and colors the grass below him. His eyes flutter as he feels himself getting tired, and his surroundings becoming suddenly so dark. His body is lifting off the ground a few feet, before he gets vigorously yanked off the blade and drops back to ground. All he sees is the sky before four swords glowing in black and white and blue descend on him.

She feels it almost instantly, her entire body jolts back in place. Her heart feels like it’s been crushed by an insane pressure. Her face went from a focused gesture to one of pain, so much pain. All her life, her heart used to beat in double, a beautiful echo.

It now beats alone.

Chaos energy swirls around her in a bio luminescent appearance. Scarlet veins pop out of her hands and face;her eyes change into balls of pure chaos and rage. She quickly literally only sees red. A single scream of pure anger releases a shockwave of energy, dematerializing interdimensional flesh and armor within reach. Bruce can only see from the comfort of the Hulkbuster Suit as Wanda drops to her knees, releasing another shockwave, and weeps. Only 15 seconds pass before a sound rings throughout the battle. The towering entity that was splitting the barrier finally stepped into the field. Now armed with a handheld cannon with purple fire coming from the barrel, it stomps the ground as metal plates throughout its body shift in response. Rising to full height, it moves its upper body side to side in an uncanny fashion. Its emotionless white eye moves rapidly, locating its target, before landing on Wanda. The lens of its eye socket rotates before going from sphere shape to now a slit of white fire. Wanda knows looking directly at her, and it knows she is looking back. Her face goes from a mournful sorrow to now an enraged anger. Nearby chunks of earth pulse with red as Wanda creepily levitates in the air, trailing Chaos energy below. 

The towering robotic unit makes its shoulder appear large before retreating them back in place. It sounds a mechanical and distorted yell before it skips through the battlefield, going straight for her.

Wanda, in response, catapults herself directly to it with the encaplused chunks of earth following behind before he poses her hands to attack, and to not hold back.

—------

Rushing in, the team find themselves not in another cavern, but a cliff with a vast opening. Endlessly void covered the horizon and a  drop so deep you would think it was Space. Falling would mean falling of the Earth and into Deep Space.

At the very edge of the small platform of stone, was Odera, suspended mid-aid a few feet and with their hands in some sort of praying pose. Right in the middle of them was the Tesseract with its cosmic energy radiating off of it and into Odera’s arms. 

They seemed so…calm.

Eyes closed and head slightly swaying back and forth like listening to the calmness of an ocean and slowly falling asleep to its sounds. Body so still it, one would think they weren’t even a living person or thing, but a statue. With the team seeing this, they slowly make their way down and circle them.

Ripples of both Umbral and Tesseract energy would flow around them. Quick and beautiful. The ground below Odera would have a weird wave texture over it. 

“HAVE YOU COME TO WITNESS MY ASCENSION, DEAD THINGS?”

The entire team would freeze up and get into a defensive position. Their eyes would slowly open as they took a deep breath. Dropping their head to meet the small team of Avengers below them. Natasha with both arms raised and Widow Bites charged, Bucky raising his rifle but not aiming down its sights yet, both Peter and Steve having their arms idly on their sides, though the captain does have his shield covering his legs in case Odera pulls a quick one on him.

Gently gliding down, they drop their arms to their sides as they look between the team. “You don’t have to do this Odera, you have a choice.” The Captain said. The moment the sentence left his mouth, Odera slowly looked over to him. Their stoic yet emotionless face goes from one to a look of sadness. 

“I HAVE TO, I WAS FATED TO BECOME A WEAPON.” The voice was that of two people, Odera and the Weapon. They both found a harmony that allowed their voices to overlap with each other. The Weapon’s tone of violence and endless rage to fuel war, Odera’s acceptance of this burden and to be “fated to become a weapon…” found a beautiful harmony. They spoke as one but still acting as two.

“AND IF I AM TO BECOME A WEAPON OF THE NINE…” energy starts flowing out their shoulders and upwards. Fists become clenched as outlines of weapons start forming in their hands. Face goes blank before it goes to anger and determination. Odera’s voice was nowhere to be heard in the background, fully exiting the conversation, now only the Weapon is speaking to them. “…THEN I’LL GLADLY BECOME THEIR WEAPON.”

They disappear within a blink of an eye, only leaving a few bits of energy in their place. The four Avengers quickly looked around, anticipating a surprise attack from the Weapon. Something catches Natasha’s attention, behind a few spikes of rock. She only took one step forward before a glaive emerged from the rocks and came down swinging to her ribs. The shattering of rocks brought the rest of the team's attention to seeing the Weapon advancing on Natasha as she evades attacks from them. 

Bucky fires into the Weapons direction, they raise their left hand as a force shield blocks the incoming firing. The Weapon rumbly chuckles as the bullets turn directly and are pointed back to him. The Weapon pulls their arm back and launches the bullets back. Steve manages to get in front of him and block both their bodies. Having their back turned, the Weapon doesn’t catch the sudden attachment of web on their back as they get yanked and get thrown into a wall of rock.

Dazed, the Weapon slowly gets up as they’re met with a knee kick to their face by Peter. Their head recoils back to see Peter’s next move. Seeing it, the Weapon quickly teleports as Peter’s punches only hit air. The Weapon emerges from below as they sweep kick Peter and perform a starfish kip-up, leaving a trail of energy.

Peter was left stunned as he hit the ground. His eyes rapidly blink, processing what just happened. ‘Odera never moved like this.’ The thought ran in his head. He makes eye contact with the Weapon as they turn to face his teammates. Peter tries to get up and fight but his body doesn’t budge one bit. All he can do is stare.

The Weapon rushes them. Steve throws his shield at them and in response, the weapon drops to a knee slide before sinking into the shadow of the ground.

The shield ricochets off a few rocks before returning back to him. The Weapon emerges from behind, sending a drop kick to Bucky, another starfish kip-up, and focuses on Natasha and Steve.

Punches and kicks are thrown and blocked from both parties. Steve manages to land a hit with his shield into the right collarbone. Natasha shoots charges of her Widow Bites. The Weapon dodges easily, moving like a literal shadow. 

Bucky, now leaving behind his rifle, goes in with just his fists and strength; Peter, now able to move again, scales the ceiling as he waits for an opening. 

Bucky lands a kick to their leg, earning a grunt from the Weapon. As they drop to one knee, Natasha sees that they were caught unguarded from Bucky’s attack and goes for a kick. The Weapon dodges to the left to avoid it. Rolling away, they perform almost a breakdancing movement, sending thick ribbons of Umbral Energy from their legs and into the surrounding area. 

Individually, the Avengers weave or straight up block with their body the income wave of energy. Peter got lucky from the attack as no ribbons were aimed towards the ceiling. There was a brief moment of silence, a moment to breathe. The Weapon is nowhere in sight.

The Weapon then teleports right in the middle of the group. It made itself known with a frustrated scream as it quickly went back and forth between Steve, Bucky and 

Natasha. Peter finally drops down and goes for a jab.

Him making noise as he goes for the blow gives him the disadvantage, the Weapon quickly turns and catches the punch. With his mask covering his face, Peter mutters a “aw, crap” as the Weapon twists his arm and delivers a kick. Natasha and Steve watch as Peter gets sent backwards and lands a few feet before hitting a wall. Seeing this, something within them is being fueled by anger and pumps them with adrenaline.

They both individually rush the Weapon. With Natasha running towards their back, she performs her iconic flying head scissor move. Catches them by surprise, Odera is only able to send a wave of energy towards the Captain, causing him to get stunned and briefly disoriented. 

The Weapon stumbles drunkenly as the Widow continues to use her momentum to try to drop them. The Weapon walks a few more steps before catching on what she’s trying to do. 

They follow her movement. As soon as she tries to bring them down, the second they feel her feet touch the ground, the Weapon returns the move.

As soon they wrap their legs around her neck, energy emits from their legs, clouding her senses.  The Weapon then lands on their feet and sends Natasha to the ground.

They stand before her superiorly. When her eyes refocus back to reality, they briefly make eye contact. The pulsating shades of blue meet with brown and white. The Weapon must admit, they were impressed by this, letting out a “mmmm” in a respectable tone. This leaves Natasha straight up confused.

The moment of respect is interrupted when Bucky tackles the Weapon. They roll in unison before they stop, Bucky atop of the Weapon. The Weapon throws their leg over his head and roll once again, positions reversed. 

Now under the Weapon, Bucky only watches as they conjure a knife and slam it down towards him. The metal arm immediately shoots up and tries to stop it. Bucky's face constantly changes from a panicked look to a determined look back and forth, as the knife slowly inches closer and closer to his throat.

The Weapon’s face doesn’t change one bit. That sheer look of evil and stillness, brows furrowed in an angry expression. Their lips begin to slowly part away as skin begins to rip and tear. Their teeth are normal with the expectations of their canines, with a base of pure blackness that gradually turns to that eerily shade of blue from their eyes.

The knife is an inch away from his neck. Their now monstrous mouth grows wider as the knife gets closer. Bucky was too focused on their face that he didn’t see a ghostly hand come out of the Weapon’s side and grab ahold of their face. The Weapon grunt in confusion as they are yanked off Bucky fully and stand unstably. 

Another hand is extended, now from their back, and grabs the Weapon’s head and directs them to hit a jagged rock. The team swiftly regroup and watch briefly as the Weapon tangles with their own body.

The Weapon swipes and strikes savagely in the air as hands cover their eyes, letting out an enraged growl. Half a body rushes out of the Weapon’s back, faceless and covered in inky black. It looks at the group and speaks a plea.

“Throw the Tesseract over the edge!”

It was Odera.

Both the Super Soldiers can hear Peter’s heart beat pick up as the lump on the Weapon’s back points to the Tesseract.

“Trust me…”

“NO! I WILL NOT ALLOW THIS!”

The Weapon rips off a hand covering its left eye and quickly scrambles for the cube. The half body grabs the Weapon’s head and yanks them backwards, trying to hold them back. Peter darts towards the Tesseract as Steve, Natasha and Bucky rush towards the Weapon and hold them down. 

Natasha grabs a hold of its legs, causing it to drop to their knees, Steve goes for the left arm, and Bucky for the right arm. The half body’s hands are gripping the jaw, pulling back as more skin rips and teeth and gums are exposed.

Peter reaches for the Tesseract and chucks it like a baseball. The Weapon can only watch as the speck of cosmic blue dives down into black. Suddenly, a burst of cosmic energy erupts and engulfs the cave. Air hits them and outlines of each body appear behind them. Air rushed back to the center of the room. They all have to let go of the Weapon, shield themselves from flying debris and gusts of winds.

The Weapon slowly brings their head back up. Their head shoots up to the ceiling as they let out a gasp, alerting everyone. The armor that was covering their neck, collarbone, and shoulders suddenly shatters and floats midair. Their left eye glows brighter as cracks form out of the eye socket and spill over their, the longest crack going all the way up into their hairline.

The waves and rivers of energy slowly turn to fire and smoke as they’re pulled back to the center of the vast cave. Sounds like a radio transmission fills the room as the smoke gets pulled back to center, the area changes from a cave setting to a large bed of water as stars and galaxies glitter the sky. The Avengers see their surroundings change right before them, as a large planet-like entity is manifested before them, eight tentacles waving and swinging aimlessly. The Weapon turns their head to Bucky, before Odera’s voice is heard, but with more bass to it.

“you stand here so that he doesn’t have to go through this alone again”

The Avengers all get a splitting headache as each of them grit their teeth and raise an arm to their head, trying to smooth it or to forcefully remove this headache. They all feel it. Nine different minds, nine different voices, nine different wills fill their heads as the Nine speak in unison, to III.

“If you cannot give us what we want, what CAN you do?”

III, speaking through Odera’s body and voice, grunts as their head now drops to an almost praying pose, speaking back to their brothers and sisters. 

“still i die afraid at our sisters command”

“We are beings who bend all rules and seek dependency - why do you fear breaking this one?”

Head shoots back up to the ceiling as arms jump in a surprise motion. “a death ensure extinction” 

Head drops back down. 

“listen carefully children of my earth”

The center of this planet-sized deity pulses as III raises their head and extends their arm towards it.

“to survive you must bind us” III grunts and hunches over, gritting their teeth as grunts and gasps slither between the cracks in their mouth. They blink a few times before giving out the rest of their message.

“it cannot be done. the fatebreaker will do it”

“strike true fatebreaker. goodbye my children…" The headache subsides from Bucky. He was shown everything. The train, the experiments, the fate he was destined to follow. III slowly turns back to see Bucky regain his senses as his face drops in fear. He turns to meet eye contact with the III, who looks almost sorry, a deep sadness in their twisted eyes.

“...goodbye sol” Bucky’s jaw drops slightly as he analyzes III tone. He wants to be mad at III, at the Nine, but all he sees is someone who went through the same thing, a first hand look at what he was like in the past 70 years.

“YOU ARE NOTHING!” the Nine roared as III groans and head shot back up. The planet-sized god explodes and leaves clouds of smoke and blue fire. The environment goes back to the cave as the Weapon slowly levitates from the ground and back into the pose they were in as Emissary.

“You all forgotten that you need us. You are fated to remember. We will remind you.” The Nine spoke through the body, mouth didn’t move one bit. Eyes went back to that blanket expression. They blink hard a few times before a new voice comes out.

“I’m sure you will, but not through me. Find someone else!”

They jolt in place as their chest splits open, having a cobweb like texture. Energy ripples behind them as energy sweeps to the floor and causes a wave-like texture. Their arms shoot out their sides as someone begins to push through the body. They grunt as they push out an arm. Their head is now exposed. Inky tendrils try to grab a hold of the body pushing through, but fail. More of the Weapon’s body peels and molts off the new body emerges. One final grunt and they drop to the ground and onto his knees and hands. 

He slowly raises up, eyes locked onto their hands. As soon as he hits his full height. He slowly raises his head to see the Avengers in front of him, and the one person he thought he’ll never see again.

“Odera?” Peter shakenly said, unsure if this was truly him. His right eye was back to that shade of brown Peter grew to remember but his left eye was tainted. Cracks of comics blue were spilling out of his eye socket and into the surrounding skin. The largest crack stretching to the hairline.

“Hi Petey…” Odera gaspily said. His breathing was still uneven from what just happened. Almost two years of his life was taken from him in service of cruel gods. Autonomy rewritten countless times to ‘perfection’. Two years felt like a thousand lifetimes and deaths.

Peter rushes to hug Odera, catching him off guard. He wraps one arm around Peter. He lets go of Odera, sensing that he’s twitching in place and steps back two steps. “We’re not done yet, Peter.”

Peter is puzzled by his statement. “What do you mean?”

The arm that circled Peter in the hug starts glowing and fire-like energy starts coming off his fingers. There's a determined look in Odera’s eyes as he looks towards the Avengers.

“One last act of entropy.”

—------

Wanda trades fire with the towering entity. Despite its size, it’s quite agile. Easily able to change direction at any given time and keep up with the momentum. Tony flies nearby to try and aid but gets caught in the crossfire below as a squadron fires up at him. Clint and Sam are now reserved, ammunition running low. Bruce escorts them back to the mobile transports as T’Challa orders his forces to form a phalanx. 

As more ground is lost and becomes converted to interdimensional mesh and miasma, more creatures and troops close in on them, slowly but growing.

Wanda glides around the entity before it rotates its upper body 360 degrees to smack her straight out the air. She crashes lands as her back pedals with her hands away from the giant. It merely walks towards her and raises it off hand, conjuring Umbral energy in it, before a beam from the sky comes down on it, completely disintegrating it to atoms and dust. 

Everyone looks up to see a rift in Space open up and a beam of Umbral energy make contact with the ground. The shadowy units, both small and large, are sent back flying as the ground beneath the beam starts reverting back to grass.

The beam concludes and at the center is Steve, Bucky, Natasha and Peter. The horde of creatures are heard before a sonic boom above fills the atmosphere as a being slams down to the ground and sends a shockwave towards the horde.

Raising from a crouched position. Odera looks back to the group of Avengers and Peter to see them curious and confused on what he’s about to do next.

“One last act of entropy."

He turns back to the horde, now out of their dazed state, rushes only towards Odera.  He takes one deep breath, and harnesses whatever Umbrakensis he can, and shoots it up into the sky directly above. 

A tear in reality is cut open as the vastness of Space begins to fill the sky. The miasma that covered the Wakandan land is being uprooted as spheres begin to collapse on themselves and their energy is sucked up to the tear. The many troops and creatures of the horde begin to float and get violently yanked up to the tear. Their grunts and yelps grow silently as bodies pass through, into the nothingness of Space. 

Once only the miasma is left behind, Odera takes another deep breath, and drops their arms. They soon begin to levitate off the ground and up to the tear. Unlike the horde, he was being lifted in a more gentle way, but still at the same pace. Halfway up their ascension, they feel something pulling on their leg. 

Peter shot a string of web onto him and begins to pull him back to ground, back to Earth. Peter felt himself leave the ground by an inch before he got anchored back down by Bucky. Odera looks down at them and only smiles back.

Peter was left confused, but that quickly changed in fear as Odera summoned an arm blade and cut the went from his leg.

He hears Peter call out for him but he doesn’t look back down, only at the increasing view of Space, before impact, they curl into a fetal position as they pass through. The rift almost immediately closes as a bell-like sound erupts and a ring of Umbra is shot out from the closure of the rift.

One last act of entropy.