The smell of fresh coffee still lingered in the air as Ethan, Diana, and Didi returned to the living room.
Fury and Natasha sat in the room, their voices low but sharp with urgency. They were mid-conversation and tense.
"Hydra's deeper than we thought," Fury said grimly. "Every division's been infiltrated. We're not just talking agents. We're talking leaders. Directors. Department heads. Judges. Senators. They're embedded deep, top to bottom. It's a disease in the bloodstream."
Natasha's voice was cold but edged with frustration. "Then we drag them out. Reveal everything."
Fury's eye twitched. "If we do that, the entire system crashes. It leads to civil unrest. Global trust will be shattered. You're not understanding the scale here—some of them are the system now."
Ethan raised an eyebrow, "And you're just now realizing this?"
Fury gave him a look but said nothing. Natasha turned just then, noticing Ethan and the others entering.
"Took your sweet time with breakfast," she said before arching a brow at Ethan. "Hope it was worth it."
Ethan gave a half-smirk as he strolled past them and dropped lazily into the armchair. "You know me. Had to make sure the eggs were perfectly overcooked."
He pulled out his phone casually. Didi flopped onto the seat beside him, and Diana curled up in the armchair with her legs tucked beneath her.
Fury's eye narrowed. "Who are you calling now? Backup?"
Natasha leaned forward, "Please don't say aliens."
Ethan didn't look up as he answered, thumb still gliding over the screen. "Nah. I'm calling one of HYDRA's heads."
Fury blinked. "You're what?"
"Alexander Pierce," Ethan added smoothly.
A stunned silence settled over the room as the line connected with a sharp click. The calm tone of an older man filtered through the speaker.
"Hello?"
"Good morning, Mr. Pierce," Ethan said in a voice far too casual for the situation. "Ethan Carter here. Thought I'd give you a ring."
"Ethan… Carter," Pierce echoed, caught off guard. "Ah. The name that's been causing waves lately. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Ethan leaned back, legs crossed, as if chatting with an old friend. "Oh, just checking in. You feeling alright? I heard you had a little… nosebleed recently."
The voice on the other end paused. Even through the phone, the air in the room shifted.
"I'm not sure what you're referring to," Pierce said after a moment, carefully neutral.
"Sure you don't," Ethan said smoothly. "Let's not waste each other's time pretending. I know what Hydra is. I know what you are. And frankly… you're annoying. I let you all live because you weren't worth the effort. But now?"
Natasha looked at him as if he'd grown horns. "Are you out of your mind?" she whispered.
His eyes flashed crimson.
Pierce's voice turned stern. "Don't do anything reckless, Carter. You're making a mistake—"
"You know," Ethan cut in, his tone shifting to something darker, "I've always liked your little phrase: 'Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.'"
He paused as his eyes glowing brighter.
"But what if I burn the whole damn snake down? I'm a doctor, after all," Ethan said while smirking. "Time to test a theory."
Didi watched in fascination as Ethan's aura spiked. Diana didn't even flinch—she'd seen this side of him before, and frankly, she liked it.
"I'll give you five minutes," Ethan said into the phone. "Try contacting your people. See who answers. Spoiler: none of them will. You'll be the last one left, because I want you to confess. Someone's gotta make it official."
He hung up without waiting for a reply and he simply whispered in his mind—and unleashed hell.
Across the world, in bunkers, offices, labs, and boardrooms, HYDRA agents froze. Minds cracked open under the weight of psychic intrusion, their brains frying as Ethan's telepathy overloaded every neuron with burning cosmic fire. Their bodies erupted from within—no blood, no mess—just ash, falling quietly like black snowflakes.
In less than ten seconds, HYDRA was done.
Back in the living room, Fury and Natasha stood stunned, staring at him.
Fury stepped forward. "What the hell did you just do?"
Ethan turned to Fury, "You're wrong about location," be said calmly. "She's not where your intel says she is. She's in Washington."
Natasha blinked. "What?"
With a wave of his hand, Ethan summoned a red portal.
Inside, Sharon Carter lay strapped to a table, conscious. A masked doctor loomed over her, syringe in hand, poised to inject her with something glowing blue.
But before it could happen… all of them — the doctor, the guards went up in flames. They didn't even have time to scream. The fire left nothing behind but shadows.
"Now," Ethan said calmly before turning to Natasha, "why don't you move your legs and actually do something useful now?"
Natasha scowled, but her feet were already moving.
Ethan turned his gaze on Fury. "Hill and Coulson. Other side of the facility. Separate cells. The place is empty now, thanks to me. Go get them. I'll keep the portal open."
Fury looked like he wanted to protest — or ask a hundred questions — but he saw the portal flicker and chose the smart option.
He nodded. "On it."
The two vanished through the portal.
Diana stepped up beside Ethan, watching the red shimmer of the gateway.
"What about the rest of Hydra's facilities? You want help taking them down?"
Ethan gave a small, almost smug smile. "Already handled."
Didi whistled low. "Remind me never to piss you off."
------------------
Inside the Hydra Facility – Washington D.C.
Natasha found Sharon conscious and strapped to the table. She rushed to her side, pulling out a compact blade and cutting the restraints clean in seconds.
"Sharon," she said softly, "it's Nat. You're safe now."
"You... took your time."
Natasha smiled. "Blame the guy with the god complex."
Meanwhile, Fury kicked down the reinforced door to another chamber. Inside, Maria Hill sat slumped on the floor, wrists shackled.
"Sir," she breathed. "You're... real?"
"Unfortunately," Fury said gruffly, moving to free her. "Coulson?"
"Next room," she gasped. "He's alive."
In the next cell, Phil Coulson leaned weakly against the wall, blinking in disbelief.
"Director?" Coulson rasped.
It took another minute, but soon Coulson was freed too — disoriented, but unharmed.
Fury helped him to his feet. "Don't talk. Just walk. Debrief later."
He looked up to the red portal still open, unwavering.
"Damn show-off," he muttered.
----------------
Back at Carter Residence
Ethan stood calmly as the others returned through the portal, Sharon supported by Natasha, Coulson limping slightly with Fury's help. Hill looked exhausted but alert.
No one said a word at first.
Sharon's legs wobbled as she took a slow step into the corridor. Though she tried to hide it behind her usual resolve, Ethan could see the exhaustion painted in every movement of her body — subtle trembles, tight grip on the wall, that soft wince she gave when she breathed too deeply.
"Alright," Ethan said as he approached, gesturing down the hallway. "Rest wing's this way. You all need a break before your brains start leaking out of your ears."
"I'm fine," Sharon argued, brushing her disheveled blonde hair away from her eyes. "We can't just lie down. HYDRA's still—"
Ethan stepped closer, eyes locked onto hers, his voice calm but laced with authority. "You want to stop HYDRA? Great. But right now, if a mosquito buzzed too close, it might slap you unconscious. So be a good agent, take a breather, and let your immune system catch up."
She opened her mouth to retort but faltered. The heat in his stare, the undeniable logic in his words, and the subtle pull of exhaustion made her shoulders slump.
"...Fine," she muttered reluctantly.
With a playful smirk, Ethan gestured grandly toward the guest wing. "See? That's the spirit."
As Sharon, Hill, and Coulson disappeared down the pristine hallway, Natasha and Fury followed briefly behind, where Ethan is guiding them toward comfortable rooms. But both agents couldn't help but glance around, their steps slowing.
"Again with this place..." Fury murmured.
Natasha grunted, eyes scanning the walls that somehow stretched wider than they should have. "The outside doesn't match the inside. Like walking into a TARDIS. Except the TARDIS probably didn't have marble floors and a personalized scent diffuser," Natasha muttered.
Moments later, the group returned to the living room. Ethan was already sprawled across the center couch, legs relaxed, arms draped across the backrest like he owned the world—and perhaps, at this point, he nearly did.
Fury stepped in, arms crossed tightly. "You owe me one explanation, Carter."
Ethan raised an eyebrow, "Oh, I think you've got that backward. I save your agents and give your intel an upgrade. You owe me… a very expensive bottle of whiskey and more."
Fury didn't crack a smile. "It's not over. Pierce is already gunning for you now thanks to your call. And what did you do… There wasn't a single soul in that facility. Not one. That wasn't just cleanup, is it."
Ethan didn't answer. Instead, he leaned forward and picked up the remote.
With a click, the large wall-mounted TV flared to life.
The news anchor's voice hit immediately—frantic, breathless.
"...Reports are flooding in from every continent—key political leaders, CEOs, defense heads… All suddenly combusted. Witnesses describe it as spontaneous immolation. In every case… nothing remained but ash."
On the split screen, images of crowds panicking, emergency broadcasts, and smoldering ruins played in chaotic sequence.
A second, softer voice joined in—female anchor this time.
"This mirrors the mysterious multi-incident attack from years ago, where unknown forces caused widespread synchronized destruction. The origin… still unknown. But something is happening again. And this time, it feels… bigger."
Ethan didn't say a word. Just leaned back and lazily stretched his arms across the couch, fingers curling over the edges like a king enjoying the opening act of a play.
"Show's not over yet," he muttered, a devilish smirk blooming on his lips.
Then, casually, he tapped two fingers against his temple.
Instantly, the anchor on-screen flinched.
Her eyes glazed for a moment, then sharpened. She turned to the camera.
"We're now receiving a live emergency broadcast from Alexander Pierce, former Secretary of the World Security Council and senior U.S. government advisor, Alexander Pierce."
Natasha's breath caught. Fury's eye narrowed. Diana's brow creased as she leaned forward, while Didi sat on the edge of her seat, silent but visibly uneasy.
Pierce appeared on the screen, wearing a solemn expression, eyes hollow with practiced sorrow.
"My fellow citizens… What you're witnessing today is the result of an uncontrollable monster. He hides behind human skin. But make no mistake…" Pierce leaned closer. "This… this is the work of a being we once thought defeated."
The anchor blinked in confusion. "Sir, are you saying you know what caused these incidents? Are you saying… it's not a natural event?"
Pierce nodded gravely.
"Yes. The monster calls himself… Mr. Sinister."
The room fell silent.
Fury's and Natasha's jaws dropped at the exact same moment. Their heads slowly turned to Ethan.
He didn't move. That smirk, however, widened — like he had just finished telling the punchline of a private joke only he understood.
Pierce continued.
"Years ago, the government, the X-Men, and several black ops teams worked together to stop him. We believed he was gone. His labs were destroyed. His influence dismantled. But… he survived. And now, he returns—more powerful, more dangerous. He has injected himself with dozens of mutations, stolen powers, and psychic weapons. His goal is global control. Genocide of resistance."
The anchor's voice trembled. "And what are you doing about this, sir?"
"We had plans. We had allies. Some tried to stop him. Many of them… were murdered by his flames. Good people. Brave people."
Ethan leaned forward slightly, watching like a child enjoying bedtime TV.
"But… there is still hope," Pierce said with renewed vigor. "There is a man. A hero. The one who destroyed Sinister's labs last time. He remains unknown to the public. He never asked for fame. He only wanted peace. But I called him again. And I believe he is already fighting as we speak. His name…"
Pierce looked straight into the camera.
"…is Ethan Carter."
Everyone in the room froze.
Didi's lips parted slightly. Diana blinked, stunned. Natasha slowly turned to Ethan, wide-eyed.
Fury's voice was low and hoarse. "You… used him to give..."
Ethan didn't answer immediately.
Because on-screen, Pierce's feed began to shake.
The lights behind him flickered.
"I wish him luck," Pierce said softly. "Because I—"
FWOOSH.
Flames erupted behind him.
His face lit up for a second—terror, regret, pain.
And then, silence.
Only ashes remained.
The screen went black.
The female anchor's face reappeared, clearly shaken but trying to remain composed.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we… we've just witnessed what appears to be the live incineration of Alexander Pierce, Senior U.S. advisor and during his statement about the individual known as 'Mr. Sinister.'"
Click.
Ethan turned off the TV and leaned back, letting out a long exhale.
"That," he said with a satisfied grin, "is what I call… a perfect ending."
The silence that followed was heavy.
Fury sat frozen in the leather chair, his single eye glued to the now-blank TV screen. The ghost of flames still flickered behind his vision.
'He… turned the narrative,' Fury thought before swallowing hard. 'Pierce was the fall guy, sure. But Ethan just made the world thank him for it. That wasn't damage control. That was a brand launch.'
Beside him, Natasha leaned against the wall with her arms crossed tightly, her fingers subconsciously gripping her elbows. Her usually steady pulse beat faster now.
'He manipulated Pierce. Manipulated the broadcast. And the people will eat it up. They'll believe this "Mr. Sinister" story, and Ethan just became humanity's dark guardian angel in one move…'
She glanced sideways at Ethan.
'And the scariest part is... he didn't even flinch.'
Ethan turned his head lazily, "Let me ease your curiosity," he said casually, "I was the one who burned down all of Sinister's labs. Years ago."
He let that sink in, enjoying the silence.
"He got curious. Thought he could mess with me." Ethan said before flexing his fingers. "So I burned every trace of his work from this world along with him."
Fury's throat tightened. 'Years ago? He had that kind of power years ago? Then how strong is he now? What the hell is he, even?'
Ethan's gaze narrowed slightly as he turned fully toward Fury.
"You want my advice, Director?" he said, voice now flat and cold. "Don't test me again. Once was enough. Twice? Well… the results will be far more dire."
Fury opened his mouth. Then closed it again.
For the first time in his life… Nick Fury was truly speechless.
Natasha is staring hard at Ethan. "You're not just strong," she said softly. "You're terrifying."
Ethan met her gaze with that same grin, but something darker simmered underneath. "Only if you're on the wrong side."
Didi walked over, "You manipulated the global narrative… turned a full-scale psychic purge into a righteous crusade… and made Pierce die as a martyr… to build your own legend."
Ethan raised a brow. "Oh come on. Don't act like that's not a little impressive."
Diana muttered under her breath, "Sick... but cool."
Diana didn't understand all the details, but she knew one thing for certain—Hydra and that Pierce guy were bad news, and Ethan had burned them all to the ground. That was enough for her.
In her eyes, Ethan hadn't done anything wrong. Sure, the killing didn't sit well with her—but she believed he had a reason. A reason she planned to ask him about… when the time was right.
"Now that we've wrapped up Act One," Ethan said before standing slowly, "I'd recommend both of you get some rest.
Fury grunted. "We're not exactly in the mood for a nap."
Ethan rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Suit yourselves. Just don't say I didn't offer."
He began to walk toward the hallway along with Diana and Didi.
Natasha turned to Fury. "What now?"
Fury didn't answer.
Because deep in his gut, one truth echoed louder than anything:
If Ethan Carter ever decided to turn against them… there would be no stopping him.
Fury finally exhaled and leaned back, eyes still wide.
"He flipped the global stage like it was a chessboard," he muttered.
Natasha sat beside him, voice low. "And somehow… we're still playing checkers."
Fury nodded.
"Next time we call Ethan Carter…" he said quietly, "we better make damn sure we never stand on the wrong side."
-------------
**Unknown location**
"Wonderful. Absolutely amazing."
The voice was smooth and deep, rich with amusement.
Inside a luxury penthouse nestled in the clouds, where the walls shimmered faintly with golden fractals of light, a handsome blonde man leaned back on a velvet recliner.
In front of him, a translucent bubble hovered mid-air, rippling like water. Within it, a vivid scene played out like a holographic movie — Ethan Carter's living room, where Fury and Natasha still sat in stunned silence.
The man chuckled.
His ice-blue eyes sparkled with mischief, lips curling into a satisfied grin. Loose strands of golden hair framed his sharp jawline, and his black shirt clung to a sculpted frame that radiated casual arrogance.
"He's truly good," he muttered to himself.
It was none other than Franklin Carter—the man who had arrived from a future timeline.
He took a slow sip from the matte-black mug in his hand, the scent of fresh espresso wafting through the air. The taste lingered on his tongue, bittersweet and perfect.
But then — a shift.
His smile faltered slightly as a tremor brushed across his senses. He exhaled slowly, the air buzzing just a touch heavier.
Frank sighed. "Of course."
Turning toward the center of the room, he watched as white energy twisted into a spiral of glowing symbols.
FWOOSH.
A portal cracked open — pure white, lined with divine script that shimmered faintly like starlight.
A woman stepped through, her heels clicking against the marble floor with the grace of a queen.
She was breathtaking — raven-black hair flowing past her shoulders like silk, vivid blue eyes sharp enough to cut, and a long royal-blue coat that billowed behind her with her stride. She carried herself like a storm in human form.
His face broke into a wide, smug grin.
"Lucy, my beloved sister!" he declared, rising to his feet and spreading his arms like a showman welcoming a guest onstage. "Did you miss your charming older brother so much you tore open space-time just to visit?"
Lucy Carter didn't smile.
She arched a single eyebrow, the corners of her mouth twitching faintly. "Charming? No. Arrogant manchild with a flair for drama? Definitely."
Frank chuckled. "You wound me, dear sister."
But before he could throw another witty jab, the portal behind her pulsed again.
And this time… one more women stepped through.
Frank's playful smirk froze mid-rise.
The woman who emerged was shorter than Lucy, but no less striking. Her red hair blazed like wildfire in the overhead light, short and tousled with effortless edge. Emerald green eyes bore into him with the weight of storms, and every step she took carried intent.
Her presence was radiant and dangerous, like a phoenix made flesh — unpredictable and breathtaking.
"R–Rachel?" Frank said, voice cracking just slightly.
She walked up to him without hesitation.
SMACK.
The slap echoed through the penthouse like a thunderclap.
"That's for disappearing without a word," she snapped.
Frank blinked. "I was going to—"
SMACK.
"That's for ghosting me."
"I swear I can expl—"
SMACK.
"That's for messing with the damn timeline, you glorified golden retriever!"
Frank stumbled back, both cheeks stinging.
He turned slowly to Lucy, betrayal written across his face. "Little help here, sister?"
Lucy smirked and crossed her arms. "Oh no, you're on your own for this one, brother. Be grateful I didn't join her."
Frank gave her a deadpan look. "Siblings are overrated."
Rachel raised her hand again, fingers poised midair.
Frank quickly grabbed her wrist with one hand, gently but firmly.
"Let's not add brain damage to the list," he said softly, his usual charm slightly subdued now.
Rachel's glare softened just a fraction. She looked at him, really looked at him, and for a long second the air between them changed — electric, familiar, aching.
"I'm sorry," Frank said quietly. "For all of it. I shouldn't have vanished."
Her fingers slowly uncurl.
And instead of another slap… she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Frank exhaled, arms instinctively wrapping around her waist.
"I missed you," she whispered.
He buried his face in her shoulder. "Missed you too."
Lucy rolled her eyes and let out a sharp whistle. "Get a room, you two. Or at least wait till I am not standing right here."
Rachel lifted her head, her voice muffled against Frank's chest. "Shut up, Lucy."
Lucy grinned. "Ten bucks says you slap him again before the night's over."
Frank chuckled.
The tension in the room began to fade. But even now, with bruised cheeks and sharp words behind them, he couldn't help but smile.
The portal closed behind them with a faint shimmer.
After breaking the hug with Rachael, Frank looked at them both, "What are you guys doing here?"
Lucy stepped forward, her expression calm but determined. "We're here to bring you back home."
.....
Author's Note:
Hey everyone! How did you like the chapter?
What do you think about Frank's involvement in the story—do you like where it's going? Let me know your thoughts in the comments!
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Thanks for reading, and stay tuned for more!