####
Just one more.
Wish Liz liked me.
Why? Why? Why, God?
Just this time. I won't do it again.
Marshall woke up the next morning to some strange voices in his head. But unlike before, he didn't feel they were his own. Nor did they hurt him. They were just voices from somewhere.
He opened his eyes, the entire room brightly lit in sunlight coming through the windows. Hela was sprawled naked on his left chest, the quilt wrinkled and barely covering them. And the way she didn't wake up despite his movement, he reckoned she really was tired.
He was in a great mood, however.
"Sleep. I'll take a look at the world." Marshall murmured and slid away from her, giving her one last look of admiration before walking into the bathroom and taking a shower.
He summoned his casual clothes on himself and headed out. As usual, he found many faces gathered on the relaxing roof. Marty was already there, back at his usual spot, the massive pool. The big guy was getting his body scrubbed by all the angels who flew around him, giggling while at it.
"Marty, I'm going to check on the mammoths. Wanna join me?"
"Growl-huf."
Marty got out of the pool right away, splashing water all around, making the angels yelp.
In moments, the raft appeared flying above the pool like a magic carpet. Marshall flew up, bringing Marty along, and flew away towards the destination. He was much faster now, much stronger. Heck, he didn't even need to fly and could have just teleported. But he liked this more; A breath of fresh air.
"Hrrruf."
"Huh? We were loud last night? You're damn right. It ain't easy making babies, you know."
"Rwar."
"Ah, hell, now you went and made it depressing as shit. Relax, I'll get you a wife. I already told the Dino Corp to scour the stars for something vaguely your shape. Finding a wife is easy as piss. Finding one that isn't a foaming-at-the-mouth animal is the nightmare. We want cute. We want smart. Like you."
Marty rolled his eyes.
"What? You think I'm slacking? Fine, let's go to Odin later and get him to use his all-peeping eye to make it easy."
Bickering like they usually did, they soon arrived above the state of Montana in the modern-day United States. It was green as usual, fresh air everywhere, trees everywhere, and mountains. Marshall was so used to that sight that he even remembered some of the large ancient trees.
His deal with the US government was very old, even older than the USA itself. His mammoth farm was to be left untouched, protected, and only the town he had allowed to exist within it should remain.
However, when Marshall reached that town, he was confused. The town had grown, and it had previously been in the middle of a forest. But now the town was connected with a two-lane asphalt road. The town's northern side was all forest, but the southern side was deforested, used as a pasture and farming land now. There were also many more buildings and whatnot.
"Where are my mammoths?"
He hovered in the sky and looked, sniffing. Sure enough, he smelled their presence. The mammoths were there in the forest, but that wasn't where he left them the last time. And they were concentrated in a much smaller area than he had allocated previously. He wanted the furry elephants to be free and happy. This was the opposite of that.
Old Marshall would have uprooted that entire town from orbit and then asked the questions. Clearly, there were some downsides to having a sane mind.
"They'd better have one god damn good excuse."
At last, he descended.
He aimed at a large children's park, empty at the moment. He landed the giant raft there and looked around. He couldn't recognise anything. Not a single building was the same. Even the roads were different. There were also light poles and wires alongside the roads. There was music coming from many radios. The hum of vehicles.
This was not the environment he wanted to give to his precious mammoths.
"Poor things. Helvar must have forgotten about them."
It really seemed as if nobody other than him cared about the furry animals.
Annoyed, he walked out of the park. All the people had run indoors, so he found nobody. A few were looking at him from many shops, scared, but he didn't bother. He went to the largest building, the town hall.
Funny enough, the old statue of him and Marty was still standing there.
"Marty, roar."
"Wraaaaaaaaaaaa!"
The deafening roar vibrated the ground itself. Still, nobody came out.
"Wait for me here."
Marshall walked into the building. The guard standing there didn't even take out his gun, just shivered in place. They had recognised him, he reckoned. His face wasn't that hard to miss, even less so Marty out there.
He walked over to the information desk. "What the fuck is this place called?"
"F-Firstman Town… Your Holiness?"
Marshall ignored the woman and looked up at the ceiling. Sighing, he flew up, just hovering in his standing state. The ceiling above him ripped apart on its own, making a hole large enough for him to pass.
Finally, he stood in front of a rather large table. The office space was organised neatly and also pretty luxurious. Behind the table was a man seated, looking to have black and native ancestry mixed. They were the two kinds of humans he had allowed to live in his town.
"So you are the bastard running this town. Funny, I don't recall giving you permission to let it bloat like a diseased tick. I sure as hell didn't approve any of this rot. And why are my goddamn mammoths crammed into a piss-sized pen? Amnesia again? How many times do I have to erase your fucking congress to get the message across?"
The man, the mayor, it seemed, couldn't even stand up. He couldn't even feel his legs. "First Man… I… I'm Sitting Bull's great-grandson. I know the original agreement. But I had no choice. I had no power. The Governor sent his armed men."
"Who shrank my land?"
"It was James Dutton who started this. Then his son, Spencer, kept encroaching, trying to make his ranch bigger. The state governor supported him. We didn't have enough men to push them back."
Marshall scowled. "Goddamn politics. Absolute horseshit. Who the fuck is Dutton? Screw it, I'm killing everyone. Where's the damn governor hiding?"
"Helena, the capital. First Man, I swear by my ancestors, the original people of this town never wanted this."
Marshall didn't hear him and flew back out, smashing through the walls. He flew Marty with him, and the raft automatically appeared under them.
It didn't take him long to find the capital, and then the Governor's office. It was a pretty sizable building. A building that Marshall could uproot. It had the classic dome at the top, and Marshall tore it away from the get-go.
He lifted it with his telekinesis and threw it on a nearby lawn. The loud noise was enough to alert everyone. He didn't wait, however, and flew into the large building. He kept Marty with him, simply chipping away the walls and ceilings to make way for his big son.
"Where is the Governor?" Marshall asked a random security guard. The fat man simply pointed with his finger before escaping the crumbling building.
A few more walls later, he finally reached the office of the Governor. The man was in a meeting, it appeared. With a rough-looking man who wore a cowboy hat. One probe in both their minds, and he knew who they were and what they were doing.
"Planning to carve out more of my goddamn land?" Marshall glared and hovered over to the Dutton guy. "You're the greedy bastard?"
"F-First Man? Please hea—"
Splash!
Marshall punched Spencer Dutton square in the face. The punch was so fast that the entire skull just split apart and splattered all over the wall behind. The deadbody fell a second later.
With that, he focused on the Governor. "Did he have any children?"
"Y-Yes… a son…"
"How old?"
"Twenty… something."
"Any other relatives?"
The Governor shook his head. "Can't remember."
"Good, makes it easy to clean," Marshall muttered and finally landed his feet on the floor. "Who's the President right now?"
"C-Chester Phillips… Your Holiness."
"Huh? That old fuck? I'll be damned to hell. What the hell happened to Arthur?"
"Retired… the Congress limited the terms after he was set to win a fourth one. I… I'm sorry, First Man. I…"
"Call the President. Five seconds, or you become that guy's twin." Marshall pointed at the dead body. Marty let out an angry breath as well from behind.
But right then, Marshall smelled something.
"Fuck! Governor, did you shit yourself? Well, you do look old. Anyway, go ahead, call the President."
The almost bald, fat as fuck, Governor rushed to grab the telephone from his table and dial the number. It took some time, connecting one office to another, and then beyond. Reaching the president wasn't easy. Besides, it seemed the President wasn't at the White House.
So, wherever the President was, the nearest phone to him was located and connected with. It took a few long minutes.
"Mister President, it's the gov—"
Marshall ripped the phone away. "Chester? Sweet baby Jesus, you fossil, who screwed up to crown you President? What are you, ninety?"
"..."
####
Chester Phillips was a very busy man.
After World War II, he had seen the problems that plagued the United States. He personally moved the Congress from behind the scenes and, without letting Arthur know, limited the President's term.
That way, his path was clear. He used Arthur's momentum and Arthur himself to promote him. And because he was already the Secretary of War, his name was known across the country. He won the election in 1949.
After that, he poured everything into strengthening the United States' intelligence and science division. Being the founding member of SSR, he knew more than most. He knew about space, the aliens, the creature the First Man flew off to fight against. He knew about Red Skull and the Tesseract.
There was so much.
So, he was in a meeting with Howard Stark. The bastard had taken Dinosian citizenship when it was offered, but still lived in the US and worked there because that's where the money was. Stark wasn't like other scientists who lived in Dinosia, just content doing their experiments and studies. Howard was a businessman. Dinosian citizenship was more like an honor.
During that meeting, his secretary informed him about an urgent call from Montana's governor. He personally hated politics and intended to refuse the call. But something told him he should connect it. He remembered where Montana was, and considering the Governor was barely an acquaintance, an emergency call didn't make sense.
"Governor?" Chester spoke into the telephone brought to his table, with Howard and a few others sitting in front of him.
"Chester? Sweet baby Jesus, you fossil, who screwed up to crown you President? What are you, ninety?"
That voice… Chester had heard it before. He gulped a little. The man whose name came to his thoughts was a storm that the United States, nor the world, could handle. Yet, the man was loved and cherished. He did as well.
"First Man?" he spoke as usual, like a military man, never letting his thumping heart show on his face. "It's good to know you are back. The battle must have been tough."
"Damn right. It was tough, drove me insane… or sane. Who cares. Why are you squatting in that chalky toy house? Your fat fuck of a governor here sold my mammoth farm to some Dutton. My furred elephants are shaking messes with PTSD. Who foots the bill? Should I burn the White House, round two?"
"..."
Chester relaxed back in the chair, taking a deep breath. He closed his eyes, really worried because First Man really would do that. The god was insane. "I wasn't aware. I had warned the Governor when I became the President. Arthur had done the same to the previous ones. But this one's from a different party and… not so easy to control."
"Politics? Fuck your goddamn politics. Pick a new governor, I'm killing this one. And don't search for the Dutton family or their little ranch again. I gotta now nurse those fur babies back to happiness. Fucking retards never learn."
Chester never allowed himself to be the smaller man in the room. He never tolerated such language. But now, he really was the smaller man. Weaker and younger, and less powerful by a large margin.
"Understood. I will inform Congress about this."
"And get that Firstman town cleared. The reason I let it exist doesn't exist anymore."
"It'll be done."
Chester had already come up with the tactics of dealing with the First Man. Just agree with whatever the god was saying. It was better than the consequences of arguing.
However, before he felt the call was ending, he voiced. "Your Holiness, where are you headed after Montana?"
"Who the fuck knows? Maybe Hollywood?"
"Captain Rogers is filming a documentary there. He would be honored to meet you again."
"That fat ass kid? Sure, I can meet him. Alright, shoo now, gotta butcher a fat pig…."
Chester heard that beep for a long time. The call had ended, but he was still frozen in place.
"Mr. President?"
He sighed and looked at the woman seated beside him. A founder of SSR, an important member of the intelligence community, Margaret Elizabeth Carter.
"First Man has returned… he's angry."
Chester explained the situation.
"Great! I never got to meet him," Howard cheered.
But Peggy's face was marred with worry. "Sir…"
"That's why I told him about Rogers. Don't worry, the files were destroyed. I doubt he's so unreasonable as to ignore your marriage and son with Rogers."
Just like him, he saw Peggy slump back in her chair.
The First Man was a boon and a bane of the same size, sadly.
####
Somewhere in Space, Dino Corp Mothership 1,
"How is this even possible? Aren't you a cosmic being or something?" Gamora paced back and forth, angry because she never got to sleep with the boss and enact her plan. Before she could, the man left.
Shalla-Bal, who shared authority with Gamora, stood in place, her expressions the same as ever. "I am, but he remains of a higher order than I."
Gamora shook her head. "Then make this make sense. Aren't you two completely different?"
Shalla-Bal nodded. "We are. He is my master, and I am his herald. Through Power Cosmic, he is my creator."
"Yes! Then how is this biologically possible? Why are you pregnant?" Gamora asked.
"..."
"I… do not understand that myself."
___________________
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