"What do you mean it's impossible!?" I couldn't help but raise my voice as I was once more given bad news.
Before the throne, the royal adviser of technology cowered. "Please, forgive me your majesty, but… it can't be done, that element, it can't be made, it is simply impossible."
The Alter part of me screamed to just blast this fool into dust, but the rest of me held that impulse back. "Tony Stark did it alone, within three weeks of knowing the element's structure. And you, with the full support of all the nation's scientists and unlimited resources, have made no progress after this many months!"
The man shrank further beneath the stained-glass shadow of my throne. "Stark is a special case, we really can't compare to him, he is a once-in-a-generation type genius," he stammered. "Not to mention his resources are—"
"Yes, yes, Stark is brilliant, he is the best… but there is one of him, and hundreds, hundreds of you! Even if one can't compare, surely a few hundred heads are better than one, no? And don't get started on resources," I snapped.
"I gave you everything, everything Stark had; he even sent back some more data after finishing the element on his side, and yet, with hundreds of times the resources, you still say it's impossible, not difficult, but impossible!"
"What more do you need, a bloody fairy godmother?"
He flinched at that, and I regretted the outburst—slightly. Not enough to apologize.
Agravain, standing to my right in full ceremonial armor, cleared his throat with awkward discretion. "Perhaps," he said, "a fresh approach is needed. Different minds. Different fields. If this Stark was an outlier, maybe we need someone who thinks like him, not just more of the same."
I breathed in, slowly. Controlled. I didn't want to scare my court… but this failure stung deeper than pride. It wounded my kingdom's future.
"And where would we find this? Clearly no such mind can be found within my kingdom." I said, feeling the energy drain from me.
The adviser looked up. "Then… what shall I tell the scientific council?"
I met his eyes. "Tell them they should focus on the reactors for now, I want them ready by the time we solve this little problem with you finding something Stark did easily, impossible."
Agravain inclined his head slightly, folding his hands behind his back in that ever-disciplined way of his. "If I may, Your Majesty, we could begin a search abroad—quietly. There are minds elsewhere who may possess the insight we lack. Perhaps not on Stark's level, but… aligned in thought."
I closed my eyes for a brief second. I knew that there were others out there who could match Stark here and there. There were plenty of brilliant people in Marvel, making doomsday weapons like they were going out of fashion.
I just hadn't anticipated how utterly useless my own scientific division would be. Not even a prototype. Not even a failed attempt. Just nothing.
I truly had thought numbers could make up for it, the lack of true brilliance. Yet, clearly I was wrong, or rather, I had underestimated Stark.
Blinded by my knowledge of his mistakes and all the stupid things he would do, I forgot that those things happened because the plot needed them.
…And gods, did Stark make mistakes. Not the foolish kind of a dull man—no, the spectacular kind only a genius could dream up. The kind of mistakes that require brilliance to even be possible.
He made a new element in a week… and didn't share it with anyone. Kept it in his chest. As if the cure to energy scarcity was meant to be locked away behind a ribcage and a sarcastic smirk.
He built an AI to protect the world, named it Ultron, gave it access to the internet, then left it alone for five minutes. The next thing you know, there's a murderbot quoting Pinocchio and dropping cities from the sky.
He picked a fight with a Norse god. He insulted aliens mid-invasion. He time-traveled in a hoodie.
Tony Stark was the kind of man who could invent a miniature fusion reactor in a cave using a box of scraps, then use it only to keep shrapnel out of his heart—and then make a hundred flying suits because he was sad and didn't talk to anyone.
And that was just a short list I could think up on the spot, yet, as unbelievable as it was, it was also unlikely to happen.
He calls terrorists to attack his home on a dare? And then gets surprised when it happens? And he calls himself a genius?
Yet I had been in his home, and I knew it was all but impossible for something like that to happen. Even if JARVIS only kept the defences on standby while I was there, and didn't show his full hand, I noticed enough.
That place was a little techno fortress. I wouldn't be surprised if even the military would struggle to overcome his defences, much less a wannabe terrorist.
So, the movies were just that, movies, and this world wasn't a movie; it could have been, but it wasn't bound by the strings of a script any longer.
I still hoped things would mostly go according to what I knew, but things were bound to change—look at whiplash. He might still attack Stark, but he would likely die a stupid death. After all, he had no armor, and any fool with a gun could take him down when he first appeared.
And even if the race didn't take place in the US, there was never a shortage of fools with guns.
I shook my head, aware that I was getting off topic. "You may leave us and get back to work." I finally dismissed the kneeling man, who was all too grateful to get out of there.
"Agravain," I said, my voice softer now. "I fear it won't be easy to find anyone who can match Stark, and will be willing to work for us, not to mention, people of that level, are matters of national security, getting them will require more than just their willingness."
Agravain nodded with grim understanding, his expression carved from stone. "Then perhaps it's time we remind the world that Albion is a nation, not a myth. One with interests. One with leverage."
"Tempting as that might be, I won't be taking such actions." Should I do as he proposed, war would happen.
The world was already more than weary of me due to the magic and the mutants I took in. They all wished to find ways to combat me. So Stark was no doubt under heavier pressure than he would have been without me around.
But it didn't stop with Stark; to combat magic and mutants, governments around the world all turned to technology, wanting to prove that the future was with them, not with some medieval king of knights.
Getting someone on Stark's level, would be seen as the last straw, they would never allow it. and even if they didn't go to war with me, they would kill any scientist before letting me get my hands on them.
I knew this very well, I even had to sneak in to meet with Stark, and while I did that in a high-profile way, it was still enough to keep them unable to move against me or Stark.
Getting to people like Reed Richards, Hank Pym, or anyone else was all but impossible. Maybe Hank wasn't too closely watched, but anyone of that level was still out of my reach. Unless I kidnapped them.
And honestly, even that wouldn't be easy. Hank Pym was stubborn and unlikely to work under me. And the less said about Reed, the better. He was a source of problems. I didn't want a new portal to some strange dimension or alien empire to open up in the heart of London.
No, let the US keep that troublemaker.
Agravain remained quiet during my moment of reflection. The silence in the throne room stretched—not awkward, but measured. I appreciated that about him. He understood when I needed to think, not speak.
I stood from the throne and slowly descended the steps, each one ringing slightly against the stone floor. My boots echoed in the silent chamber.
Once more, I found myself looking down at the white city of Camelot.
It wasn't like I had no options, I did have one option, one that might just solve the issue. But, it wasn't something I wanted to do. And even then, I wasn't sure if I could pull it off.
It was hardly the first time I was tempted to try it, but… as always, I found myself hesitating.
Agravain took a single step forward, as if sensing the shift in my silence. "Your Majesty," he said cautiously, "I would advise against reckless action. If there is… another path you're considering—"
"There is," I interrupted, still gazing out at the horizon, at the glittering white towers and sun-warmed battlements of my rebuilt kingdom. "But it is not one you—or anyone—can advise me on."
He bowed his head slightly. "Then I will not presume. Only… remember that you are not alone in this."
I appreciated the sentiment. But there are things only a king can carry.
Even now, the temptation tugged at the edges of my mind. If Albion's brightest could not match Stark, then perhaps what I needed wasn't in this age at all.
"I shall give them more time to try on their own, but once we have all the reactors up, and they still can't make the fuel, then I might have to take action." My words were as much for me, as they were for him.
-----
Maria Hill tapped her stylus against the edge of the console, eyes narrowed as yet another report came in. Satellite data. Albion was building something, something big and high-tech. And her superior wanted to know what.
Which wasn't easy, they had few spies left there. having pulled them back under the threat of lie-detecting magic.
"Ma'am," one analyst called from the other side of the room. "We've got another hit. Priority four individual have shown up again."
"Which one?" She asked without looking.
"Vegas one, code named, little lion."
Hill's gaze flicked up.
"Little Lion… She's the short one, isn't she?"
"Yes ma'am. Red jacket, messy blonde hair, and a big spender. She appeared with the code named, winning queen again… and alone a few times later." The analyst slowly continued as they read off their screen.
"Wait… they appeared multiple times? Why have I not been informed about this before?" She couldn't help but ask.
"I'm just finding out myself, I'm not sure why, but the system didn't ping us about her appearance, I have to look through the data manually. But the little lion seems to have been busy, dozens of sightings over the past month alone."
Hill's jaw tightened. "Dozens?"
She turned fully now, stepping closer to the analyst's terminal. A flurry of new data points lit up the screen—timestamps, blurry stills, flagged keywords from open-source camera feeds, street-level drones, and even a few police reports.
"She's been active this whole time, and no one noticed?"
The analyst shook their head. "It's the weirdest thing. We had facial matches in the system, but no automatic alerts triggered. It's like someone slipped a blindfold over our surveillance filters."
Hill put a hand on his shoulder. "Keep those thoughts to yourself," she warned.
This wasn't a good time to talk about leaks or failures on SHIELD's part. She was well aware that her boss was struggling to deal with the security council, and the last thing he needed was for them to get more ammunition to use against him.
"What have they been doing since disappearing in Vegas?"
The analyst pulled up a second screen, this one messier—chaotic strings of incident reports, stills of scuffles, police bodycam footage too distorted to make sense of, and eyewitness accounts filled with contradictions.
"Hell's Kitchen mostly," he said. "A series of assaults and destruction cases. Some of it seems vigilante-based. Little lion seems to have joined a vigilante team, causing plenty of problems for both criminals and law enforcement, often due to being excessive."
Hill's lips pressed into a thin line. "Define 'excessive.'"
"More than two hundred reported deaths, and the property damage is… vast."
Hill didn't blink. "Sounds more like a terrorist than a vigilante."
"Some people at the NYPD might agree with you, ma'am," the analyst replied quietly. "But there's a catch."
Hill's eyes narrowed. "There always is."
"She's been targeting known members of the Hand," he said, pulling up flagged files—mugshots, sealed case files, redacted field reports. "Low-level enforcers, suspected lieutenants, and a few that were on SHIELD's own inactive watchlist. It's hard to argue with the results, even if the methods are… brutal."
Hill folded her arms. "And the others? The civilians caught in the blast zone?"
"Still sorting through it. Some might've been guilty by association, some… weren't. But the overall pattern is clear. Someone's waging a war. And they're not being subtle."
"Well, time to put an end to it. This is clearly becoming a SHIELD concern, with so many deaths and enhanced individuals. Find me everything you can on this team, and their actions, and double-check for other missed pings," she ordered.
(End of chapter)
To think that SHIELD messed up, but then again, when don't they?
Was it Hydra? Or Stark? Or someone else?
Who knows!
Not you, that's for sure!
After this I only have one more chapter ready to go, before I get back home and able to write again, so you will be right up and getting chapters hot off the press by then.