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(S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters)
Anton Mercer lay unconscious inside a reinforced containment cell — a sleek glass chamber, transparent yet almost unbreakable, humming faintly with S.H.I.E.L.D.-grade energy shielding. His chest rose and fell steadily, each breath calm and controlled, as if his body were resting peacefully… even though absolutely nothing about this situation was peaceful.
The silence in the room was the uncomfortable kind — quiet enough to hear your own heartbeat, yet heavy with tension, as if the entire place was holding its breath.
Fury stood in the surveillance bay, one hand tucked behind his back, the other resting on the console as he watched the scene through one of the monitoring cameras. His single eye narrowed, an intense frown forming on his face.
"I couldn't find anything strange about him," he muttered internally, annoyed at himself. "Even after taking his blood. Did I get tricked… or am I just not seeing the real issue here?"
His jaw tightened slightly — barely noticeable, but more than enough to betray his irritation. Fury hated unstable variables. But what he hated more… was accidentally endangering civilians because he misjudged someone. And Anton Mercer, for all the weirdness surrounding him, had never been anything but a scientist — a damn good one, at that.
He may act old and secretive, but Fury knew the man's connections ran deep. Too deep. If this detention turned out to be a mistake, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s reputation could take a hit… and in their line of work, losing public or political trust was the fastest path straight to hell.
After a moment of brooding silence, Fury's gaze shifted to Natasha Romanoff, who stood beside him. She maintained her professional stance, albeit barely. Her shoulders were a little stiffer than usual, her breathing slightly heavier — she was exhausted, mentally and physically. He'd been stacking missions on her nonstop.
"After this mission, I'll grant the vacation she's been begging for…" Fury thought with a sigh. "Maybe even a raise. We're the poorest secret organization anyway… can't give too much."
The thought annoyed him, but it was true. Otherworldly threats, alien tech leaks, interdimensional rifts — those were manageable. Budget cuts? That was Fury's actual nemesis.
He cleared his throat softly, signaling for Natasha's attention.
"Romanoff. I have a secret mission for you. It's of great importance."
Natasha blinked once, already looking tired of the phrase.
"Sir, every mission you give is 'of great importance.' You say this every time. I won't act recklessly — and if it's too complicated, I'll report back to you."
Her tone wasn't disrespectful, but she was clearly exasperated. She had been hoping — praying — for even a short break, yet Fury always chose her for the insane missions. The borderline impossible ones. The "why am I still working here?" ones.
Fury studied her face carefully. If Natasha were annoyed, she could still do her job, but she wouldn't do it at her absolute best. And that, in their line of work, could get someone killed.
He took a slow breath, weighing his options, then finally said what he knew she wanted to hear.
"After this mission, you'll get a long vacation. And a raise."
Natasha's eyes widened instantly.
"…Really?" she asked, her voice brightening with genuine surprise and hope.
"Yes, Agent Romanoff," Fury confirmed, his face completely straight.
In the span of a heartbeat, Natasha transformed from burnt-out assassin to fully energized super-agent. Her expression lit up, her posture straightened, and her aura practically pulsed with readiness. Fury almost laughed. Almost.
Her mood swing was so fast it nearly gave him whiplash.
He tossed her a document, which she caught flawlessly. The moment she skimmed the contents, her expression darkened again.
"Sir… this is a pretty hard mission," she said seriously.
Fury didn't sugarcoat a thing.
"Yeah. He's an anomaly. We know nothing about him. He's strong — very strong. I thought about asking S.P.D. for backup, but they won't give us anything on Rangers. They protect their own. Even the spies I planted there got caught within a day."
He sighed and placed a hand lightly on her shoulder.
"Listen. I know it's hard. I wouldn't have given this to you if I didn't think you could handle it. And if you can't complete this mission, I won't blame you."
Natasha's muscles finally relaxed at that. Hearing that retreat was an option took enormous weight off her shoulders. It wasn't a do-or-die mission. Moreover, the Omni-Ranger somewhat terrified her. He was too strong, especially for a normal human like her. He saved people but utterly destroyed his enemies with no bones left to spare. She didn't want to be incinerated by him.
She did not want to become "nothing."
"Don't worry, sir. I'll try all I can to complete this mission," she said, saluting with her right hand crossing over her left shoulder — Ranger-style, a gesture she had picked up during joint ops.
Fury nodded once, closing the feed that was monitoring the unconscious Anton.
Unfortunately for him… and very fortunately for Anton…
Anton woke up in that exact moment.
His eyes snapped open — reptilian-slitted pupils gleaming with unnatural sharpness. The breath that left his lips wasn't one of confusion or panic. It was calm. Controlled. Almost excited.
Because the being inside that body wasn't Anton Mercer.
It was Mesogog.
A slow, chilling smile crept across his face. His expression twisted — too wide, too unnatural, too predatory to belong to a human.
"Heh… hehehe… kekeke…" His laughter rolled out, raspy and sinister. "I'm finally here… after years of planning."
He lifted a hand, feeling the power surging through it. Feeling freedom.
"First things first… let's modify these cameras."
His mind extended outward like tendrils of static energy — technopathy activating instinctively. The cameras flickered, glitched, and then reverted to looping images of him still sleeping peacefully inside the cell.
Perfect. Clean. Undetectable.
Mesogog stood, stretching like someone waking from a pleasant nap. He stepped toward the glass wall and phased through it effortlessly, his reptilian grin widening. Not a single crack formed — the phasing was so smooth it almost looked like he stepped through water.
His voice dropped to a whisper filled with unrestrained hunger.
"The Cosmic Cube will finally be mine."
He spread his arms wide, savoring the moment, letting the world feel his presence returning.
"Hahahahaha!!!"
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I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Please, Power Stones guys. It motivates me