Manhattan General Hospital – Private Room (Two Days Post-Attack)
The first conscious sensation wasn't pain, but sound – the rhythmic, artificial sigh of the ventilator forcing air into his lungs, punctuated by the frantic, insistent beeping of a nearby monitor.
Then came the dull, pervasive ache radiating from his chest, a heavy weight pressing down. Arthur's eyelids felt leaden, resisting the urge to open, but the sharp, sterile scent of antiseptic finally cut through the lingering fog.
He forced his eyes open, blinking against the harsh fluorescent light reflecting off pristine white walls. Not the ICU's controlled chaos, but a private room, quiet save for the machines tethered to him. Sunlight streamed through a large window, revealing a slice of the Manhattan skyline. He tried to shift, to sit up, and a white-hot spike of pain shot through his sternum, stealing his breath and forcing him back against the pillows with a choked gasp.
The door burst open instantly. Pepper Potts rushed in, her usually impeccable appearance slightly disheveled, her face a mask of anxiety that dissolved into tearful relief the moment their eyes met. "Arthur! Oh, thank God! You're awake!" She hurried to his bedside, her hands fluttering uncertainly, wanting to offer comfort but afraid to touch the array of tubes and sensors.
Before Arthur could manage more than a weak nod, the doorway filled again. Tony Stark pushed past Pepper, his usual swagger absent. He scanned Arthur head-to-toe, his eyes lingering on the ventilator tube, the monitors. Colonel Rhodes followed close behind, his military bearing providing a stark contrast to the visible relief softening his features. And trailing them, looking hesitant and deeply out of place but undeniably worried, were Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson.
"Well," Tony began, trying for levity but his voice cracking slightly, "look who decided punctuality wasn't his strong suit for the afterlife." He stepped closer, his gaze intense. "Seriously, MacGyver," the nickname felt less like a joke now, more like a plea, "next time you tango with… whatever that was… maybe leave a note? You had us all contemplating premature obituaries."
"Noted," Arthur rasped, his throat raw. He tried to clear it, the simple act sending jolts of pain through his chest. He gestured weakly for water. Pepper quickly helped him take a small sip. "How...ba.d..is it?" he managed, his voice barely a whisper.
"You took a bullet, Arthur," Pepper said softly, her voice thick with emotion, dabbing his brow gently. "Point blank, center mass. The doctors… they called it a miracle. Said the bullet missed everything truly vital by millimeters, but the impact trauma… massive internal bleeding, cardiac bruising…" She couldn't continue, tears welling again.
"Miracle," Arthur repeated quietly, the word hollow. He knew the truth was far stranger, recalling the System's frantic fight against an unseen force, the desperate measures, the severed link.
"Cops are stumped," Rhodey added, stepping forward, his voice low and serious. "No witnesses who saw anything clearly. Car totaled like it hit a wrecking ball. The shooter vanished like a ghost. Professional, clean… too clean."
"Yeah, well," Tony interjected quickly, waving a hand dismissively, though his eyes remained fixed on Arthur, "point is, you pulled through. Which is good. Because the legal mess you left behind? Nightmare. Absolute nightmare." Even his deflection felt laced with genuine relief.
Foggy pushed forward then, his usual jovial demeanor replaced by pale anxiety. "Arthur? Man, we came as soon as we heard. Are you… I mean… how bad is it?"
Arthur managed a faint, pained smile, his gaze softening slightly as he looked at his friends from Hell's Kitchen. The raw, open concern on Foggy's face, the quiet intensity radiating from Matt… it bypassed his usual defenses. "Feels like I went ten rounds with a cement mixer," he admitted, his voice still weak. "But… functional. Mostly." He met Matt's unseen gaze, then Foggy's. "Thanks for coming. Both of you."
Matt offered a small, almost imperceptible nod, but the tension eased slightly from his shoulders. "We're just glad you're awake, Arthur." He stood silently, his senses painting a picture of Arthur's fragile state – the strained heartbeat, the shallow breaths, the underlying hum of medical technology fighting against entropy. The memory of his father, bleeding out on a dirty street, felt chillingly close.
Arthur saw the depth of worry on all their faces – Tony's frantic energy now focused solely on him, Pepper's tearful relief, Rhodey's stoic concern, Foggy's open distress, Matt's quiet intensity. He felt an unexpected warmth spread through his chest, momentarily pushing back the physical pain. These people… they cared. Deeply. It was a vulnerability, a complication he hadn't planned for, but… not entirely unwelcome.
"Appreciate the… bedside manner, you don't know how much this means to me" he managed, a touch of his dry humor returning. "Now, seriously. Doctor's orders. Need to rest. Go cause trouble somewhere else for a bit."
Understanding the group began to file out, offering quiet reassurances. Tony lingered, clapping Arthur lightly on the arm. "Seriously," he said quietly, the usual mask gone. "Don't pull that crap again, alright? Scared the hell out of us." He gave a final nod and left Arthur to the quiet hum of the machines.
Arthur's Penthouse, Manhattan (Days Later)
Arthur sat in the deep armchair by the window, the city skyline a distant, indifferent blur. His penthouse, usually a bastion of control, felt alienatingly quiet. His chest was a landscape of pain, tightly bound, each breath a sharp reminder of the violation. His mind wasn't on recovery logistics; it was trapped in the chilling echoes of the System's revelations.
He Who Remains. The name tasted like poison. He ran a hand shakily over his face. "My family..." he murmured aloud, the words catching, raw. "Parents...Wife... child... erased." Not just killed, but unmade. A life stolen as an afterthought, collateral damage in a cosmic game he hadn't known he was playing. "And his attempt to unmake me," he whispered, a tremor of pure fury entering his voice, "is the reason I'm even here?" The sheer, perverse absurdity of it – the architect of control accidentally creating his own nemesis through the very act meant to ensure order. "You caused this," Arthur snarled quietly at the empty air, directing the venom across time itself. "You created the paradox. You brought me here." The grief was abstract, a hollow ache, but the anger… the anger was sharp, real, and settling deep in his bones. "One day," he vowed, the words low but absolute, "this debt will be settled. I will make him feel sorry for having won that damn war of his, he will wish he wasn't He Who Remains"
Then the cold reality crashed back in. The manipulation,clenching his fist, ignoring the sharp protest from his ribs. "The slow gains… The 'Timeline Correction'… it was a leash." He pictured the smug face of that bastard, weaving those restrictions in. "A wanted me as a puppet," he spat. "All this time… thinking I was limited, playing it safe… it was him. Keeping me weak. Predictable. Manageable."
The memory of the Winter Soldier surged – the terrifying speed, the crushing metal hand, the utter helplessness as he was pinned, the cold finality in those masked eyes. He touched his bandaged chest, the phantom pain making him flinch. "I was like a worm in front of him," he breathed, the admission laced with the remembered terror. "Not even close. Pinned like an insect. Couldn't fight. Couldn't even run." The feeling of that boot on his back, the metal fist slamming into him, the cold muzzle against his skin… it wasn't just pain; it was the ultimate violation of his control, a brutal demonstration of his weakness. "Never again," he whispered fiercely, the words a promise forged in remembered agony. "Never again will I be that helpless. Toyed with. Broken."
The System's clinical report came to his mind , Memory wiped, connection severed,leash removed, Now he was free . The word hung heavy, tinged with the metallic scent of fear and rage. I can actually change things now. But the warnings were there… Real cause and effect, the consequences of changes he would make. Without He Who Remains constantly pruning, what monsters might he accidentally unleash?
He looked down at his chest again, felt the weakness still clinging to him. Am I ready?
"No," he said aloud, the word cutting through the silence, raw but decisive. He pushed himself straighter, embracing the pain as a reminder. "But I will be." No more playing safe. No more accepting the script. "He treated me like a variable," Arthur murmured, a dangerous edge creeping into his voice. "Fine. Let's see how much trouble I can truly be." The anger wasn't gone, but it was focusing, hardening into cold resolve. "I will get stronger. Unlock this potential. Forge it into power." He would intervene. "Not recklessly, but decisively. Where it counts. And the consequences? I'll face them," he stated quietly but firmly, his gaze locking onto the distant horizon. "Become strong enough… prepared enough… that they won't break me." Let the echoes come. He refused to be a pawn ever again.
His gaze drifted, then sharpened, focusing on the latest upcoming disaster Harlem, Banner, Ross, Abomination. A storm gathering. "I can't stop the Hulk... not yet," he reasoned aloud, pacing slowly now, testing his recovering body. "Can't go toe-to-toe with gamma monsters when I can barely stand without wincing. Even without them I am still too weak , going in blindly will be suicide. Not that it would stop me from getting involved somehow, I will have to be really careful" His strategic mind took over, channeling the anger into planning. "But the people… the ones caught in the middle when those two turn blocks into rubble… them. I can shield them. Get resources in place before it happens. Medical. Evacuation support. Minimize the fallout. Reduce the body count." It was a start. A tangible first step. A calculated intervention, testing his freedom without shattering the board entirely. His first real move off He Who Remains's path.
Just then, a calm, internal notification chimed, resonant with possibility.
[SYSTEM ALERT: Host vitals stabilized. System Core reaching operational threshold.]
[Initiating 'System Restoration and Upgrade Protocol'.]
[Process will run in background... Duration: Estimated 48-72 hours...]
[System functions limited... Full briefing upon completion...]
[Recommend continued physical rest.]
Right on schedule. Arthur felt a surge of anticipation mingling with his resolve. He needed this reboot. His mandated recovery wasn't a prison; it was preparation.
He reached for the highly encrypted satellite communication device, his movements careful but imbued with a new, steely purpose. Time to set the stage in Harlem. Time to act. He initiated the Priority Alpha video conference call, the Aegis shield logo appearing starkly on his screen as the faces of his core team blinked into view – Anya, Julian, Marcus, Ben – alert, professional, their focused attention immediate.
"Ghost," Anya acknowledged, her voice crisp. The others offered brief, focused nods. Priority Alpha. This wasn't routine.
"Reports received," Arthur's voice came through, calm, measured, but carrying an undercurrent of something new – a gravity that commanded their complete attention. "Section 16 progress is satisfactory. LA relief operations concluded effectively – well done, all of you." He paused, letting the screen show only the Aegis shield, his voice taking on a more resonant tone.
"Alright team," he began, his voice dropping slightly. "We built Aegis for this. We built it on the idea that when the cracks appear, when the systems we're supposed to trust fail or, worse, become the threat... someone should be there to shield the people caught in the middle. The intel I have points to a major crack about to split wide open, right here in New York." His voice gained conviction.
"This isn't just another operation; it's our first real test on a scale that matters. It's our chance to prove that our model – careful planning, quiet action, overwhelming resources applied discreetly – can actually save lives. It's our chance to offer something tangible when the chaos hits." He let that purpose settle, saw the focused readiness in their expressions.
"New directive, Priority Alpha," he stated, the operational focus returning, sharp and decisive. "Operation: Urban Preparedness Initiative. Theater: New York City. Primary focus: Upper Manhattan, specifically Harlem."
He shared the screen – the map, the data overlays, the potential impact zones. "Intel suggests a high probability," he said carefully, "of a significant, localized destructive event within the Harlem sector, timeframe roughly ten to fourteen days. Nature: Unconfirmed."
Julian Thorne, spoke first, his voice calm and analytical. "Ghost, when you say 'destructive event' and 'unconfirmed nature'... are we talking industrial, environmental, or... hostile action?"
"Assume hostile action with extreme collateral damage potential," Arthur replied. "Think... structural failure on a massive scale, widespread panic. Our objective isn't to intervene in the event. That's outside our scope. Our goal is proactive mitigation. We anticipate the storm, and we build the shelters before the hurricane hits. We soften the blow. We save lives after the initial impact."
He highlighted the cover story. "We do this under the guise of a large-scale public outreach and disaster readiness drill. Plausible deniability is paramount. Visible presence across multiple boroughs, but our true concentration of force," he tapped Harlem, "begins deployment in three days."
"Marcus," Arthur turned to Cole. "We need a robust ground presence. Medical, comms, supplies."
Marcus leaned forward, already processing. "Outreach vans as mobile trauma clinics, comm hubs disguised as 'free wi-fi' stations, supply caches in pre-leased storage units passed off as drill staging areas. Standard."
"I also want private assets on call," Arthur added. "Top-tier private ambulance services, structural collapse engineers, urban SAR teams. The best. Can you get them on retainer and integrate them into the 'drill' structure without raising flags?"
"That's a significant expense," Marcus noted, not as an objection, but as a fact. "Vetting and NDAs for that many external contractors in a short window is the hard part, but... yes. Feasible. We'll tag them as 'evaluators' for our drill." Arthur gives him a firm nod.
"Ben," Arthur turned to Carter. "I need your people woven into the neighborhood before it goes loud. Staff, liaisons, volunteers. Eyes on every street. Assess evac routes under the guise of 'safety planning'. Run crowd management drills. Most importantly: build rapport with local NYPD and FDNY command now. Use the community outreach angle."
"Standard embedding," Ben confirmed. "We'll strengthen existing liaisons, make them feel like partners in the drill. They'll know our faces, our assets, before they ever need them."
"Good," Arthur stated. "Also, a more delicate task. Activate military assets. Quietly. I need eyes and ears inside General Thaddeus Ross's command structure and any rapid-deployment units under his authority. We need to anticipate the official response, know their ROE before they deploy and I need maximum friendlies in the unit on ground to facilitate cooperation and avoid hampering relief efforts."
Ben's eyes narrowed slightly. That was a serious escalation. "Inserting assets into an active General's command on short notice... that's high-risk, Ghost. But," he nodded, accepting the necessity, "I have personnel who can be slotted in. We'll find a way. Consider it prioritized."
"We really need this" Arthur emphasizes again, Ben just gives a curt nod relaying he understands the gravity of the request.
"Julian," Arthur addressed Thorne. "This whole thing lives or dies on its legal cover. I need all permits for this multi-borough 'drill' expedited – 48-hour turnaround. I don't care what it takes or how much money you throw."
"48 hours for city permits of this scale is... optimistic," Julian said, a dry smile touching his lips. "It will require significant 'incentive' to overcome bureaucratic inertia. I'll need Anya's help."
"She has full clearance for it," Arthur said, turning to Anya Sharma. "Anya, finance this. I'm allocating fifty million from the primary reserve, effective immediately. No holds barred. Pay Julian's 'incentives', hire Marcus's contractors, fund the post-event relief grants now. No personnel Aegis or otherwise be left unprotected here, arrange additional funds if required.And I want it all completely untraceable."
"Fifty million allocated, liquid, and firewalled," Anya confirmed instantly, her expression unchanged. "The funds will appear to originate from three separate philanthropic shell accounts. No link back to Aegis."
"Excellent," Arthur repeated.
"Remember: Cover seamless. Presence organic. If the event occurs, all assets reroute instantly to crisis location under the guise of activating our emergency drill. We need near-instantaneous deployment of medical, SAR, and security cordons." He paused, letting the full scope settle. "Our primary goal is saving lives. Minimize the chaos. We are not the cover story; we are the safety net. Speed, efficiency, discretion." He looked at each of them. "Questions?"
Silence. Just the focused readiness of professionals who understood the mission.
"Execute," Arthur ordered. The call ended.
He leaned back against the pillows, the brief conference leaving him feeling the physical toll, but also a surge of fierce purpose.
"You want a stable timeline, you self-righteous bastard?" Arthur whispered to the window, a grim, dangerous smile touching his lips. "You want everything to follow your script?" He shook his head. "No. Sticking to the script is his plan. Sticking to the script means Tony dies, Thanos snaps, trillions perish, all for his perfect, sterile loop." The anger was gone, replaced by a cold, sharp, righteous conviction. "I won't burn the world down just to spite him. That's not strategy, that's chaos. But I won't let it stand, either."
He stood, pacing slowly, each step a painful but deliberate act. "He's watching for an earthquake," Arthur reasoned, "so I won't cause one." He stopped, looking down at the city. "I'll be water. Seeping into the cracks. A thousand small changes. A thousand 'statistically insignificant' deviations that the System cloaks as background noise." He imagined it: saving one life here, funding one project there, subtly altering one decision. "Each one a tiny crack in his precious 'sacred' foundation. By the time he finally senses the instability, it won't be an earthquake he's facing. It'll be the entire mountain coming down on top of him. A mountain I built, one pebble at a time."
His gaze sharpened, zeroing in on a his laptop "And I know exactly where to place the first pebble." He opened a fresh File
CODENAME: ANUBIS
A/N.
Just to make things clear , Arthur will not become overpowered anytime soon, I don't like that concept of now he is a normal person and the next moments he is punching galactus into submission. You will get an idea of what will happen post system reboot. And I already now that Hulk and and Iron Man 2 climax is supposed to happen at the same time, but I have changed the timeline for my story
I am happy with the chapter, it shows a mindset shift in Arthur and him utilising his resources to make a difference rather than going solo and still changing everything, like in some fanfics I read, I mean it's the Hulk and Abomination for god's sake and people just beat the crap out of them in some fics. I don't understand why they are so nerfed, in some cases, there is a reason Abomination was made to be Hulk's counter even if he was stopped.
Some MC's be causally catching abomination's attack one second and then being beat up by black widow in the training in the next, it doesn't make sense, I know she is extremely skilled, but if your MC is powerful enough to stop a gamma monster then maintain the power level.
Anyways, I am going in ranting mode now let's get back.
Let me know what you think of the chapter, and people please leave a review as well, someone told me that you novel will show not enough rating until you have atleast 10 reviews, so 😁please rate and review, even if it's just a gif which matches your views about the fic