Chapter 7 – Wings of Conquest
(~2,000 words; aerospace fighter launch, first encounter with SHIELD, and deeper bonding with Venom)
Pre-dawn Citadel – Aerospace Hangar
The Citadel never truly slept. Crews worked under floodlights to finish the final welds on Shawn's latest creation: the Raven-class Aerospace Fighter.
The fighter was a wickedly angular craft, its hull clad in red and black alloys reinforced with chakra lattice. Twin engines glowed with a soft blue luminescence. Each wing housed missile pods and a high-velocity cannon that could slice through modern tanks.
As the final diagnostic screen turned green, Shawn stood by the boarding ramp, his elite clone pilots gathered behind him in formation. Their helms resembled the masked Anbu of old Konoha—a deliberate homage to the power of his heritage.
"Today," he addressed them, voice amplified through the hangar speakers, "we reclaim the sky."
They saluted as one. He felt the echo of their discipline in his own pulse. No one would ever take this from him.
He boarded the cockpit, easing into the leather harness. The fighter hummed to life, enveloping him in soft blue glow. All systems responded instantly to his neural interface.
"Control, Raven One is launching."
Raven One, cleared for vertical ascent. Good hunting, sir.
He didn't wait. With a roar, the fighter leapt off the hangar deck and shot straight up, bursting past the perimeter towers into the high desert air.
40,000 feet – edge of orbit
He angled the fighter toward the stratosphere, scanning the horizon. A wedge of dawn burned on the rim of the world. The engines trailed contrails of chakra-laced exhaust.
On his HUD, a new alert flashed:
[Unknown craft detected: approaching at Mach 3.]
He toggled zoom. The camera feed revealed a sleek black jet—no markings visible, but the profile unmistakable.
S.H.I.E.L.D.
His lips thinned. So Fury had finally decided to send a recon flight.
Incoming transmission.
He accepted it, voice cold.
"This is Commander Shawn of the Citadel. Identify yourselves."
A woman's clipped accent came through. "Agent Hill, S.H.I.E.L.D. We're here to assess the threat your forces pose to global security."
"Assess, or interfere?"
"You're building armies. Orbital weapons. Biological soldiers. You must understand why that's alarming."
"I understand perfectly," he said. "But you misunderstand me. I am not interested in any single nation's permission."
"Then perhaps you'd prefer a conversation with the Avengers."
He exhaled. "Not today."
And he killed the channel.
Aerial Maneuvers
The SHIELD jet began evasive maneuvers. Shawn felt the predatory calm that came before battle.
He didn't fire—yet. But he swept past their nose at twice their speed, his chakra amplifying the Raven's maneuvering thrusters. A sonic boom cracked the sky.
It was a warning.
When he banked away, the SHIELD craft did not pursue. Instead, it circled warily at distance. He knew they were scanning every byte of his systems, recording everything they could.
That was fine.
Let them see.
He accelerated toward the upper atmosphere until the sky darkened to black, then leveled out, alone amid the stars.
Citadel – Command Chamber
When he returned hours later, the command screens displayed S.H.I.E.L.D.'s global alert. Satellite images showed the Raven's contrails across half the continent.
Clone officers studied the feed without fear. Their loyalty was absolute.
He called up a new project list:
Raven Fighter Squadron (10 units)
Orbital Defense Station
Clone Expansion Protocol (5,000 units)
Bio-Integration Lab
The last was his most ambitious. If Venom's offer was genuine, he would soon have access to a living weapon no one else could match.
He was about to authorize construction when a private channel flickered open.
Venom.
Private Quarters – Late Evening
He entered the darkened chamber alone. The walls here were lined with armored plating and chakra seals—his sanctum against both physical and psychic intrusion.
Her projection appeared at full size, tall and inhumanly graceful, black tendrils shifting over smooth white skin. Her eyes glimmered, liquid pools of knowing amusement.
"Impressive display," she murmured. "You've shown them the sky is yours."
"Did you come only to congratulate me?" He stepped closer. Even as a projection, she felt too near.
"No," she said, her voice dropping to something more intimate. "I came to remind you of our agreement."
Her gaze traced the seams of his armor, as though seeing beneath them. "Your soldiers are perfected. Your machines are unmatched. But what about you?"
He frowned. "What about me?"
"Power," she whispered. "Real, limitless power. My symbiote can bond to your Hashirama cells in ways you cannot imagine. It can be a weapon, a shield…or more."
The last word hung between them, darkly electric.
He reached out, fingers passing through her image, yet feeling a phantom chill.
"Then show me."
She smiled, all teeth. "Soon."
Clone Barracks
He toured the barracks next. The newest Elite Clones saluted as he passed. Each had their own barracks section, weapons racks gleaming. An entire company was now trained to pilot the Gundams. Another was designated for aerospace command.
He paused before one of the clone squads—batches of Uchiha and Senju traits perfected in the vat. One young clone, still only days old, met his gaze with red-ringed Sharingan already active.
"Sir," the boy said in a crisp voice. "Permission to test my abilities."
"Granted," Shawn replied.
The clone formed a seal, and the floor rippled—Wood Release, grown instantly into a shield of living armor. The chakra cost was high, but the boy did not falter.
Shawn's approval was absolute.
This is how Konoha should have been, he thought. Strong. Uncompromising.
Midnight – Command Balcony
Hours later, alone on the balcony, he looked out over the growing city. Construction crawlers moved in ceaseless columns. Spotlights lit the next Gundam hangar under assembly. New towers rose along the northern perimeter.
He could feel the change in the air: the Empire's birth was no longer a possibility—it was inevitable.
Above, the stars seemed closer than ever.
And somewhere beyond them, forces far older than SHIELD were stirring.
Galactus. Kree armadas. The Shi'ar. All would notice, eventually.
He smiled into the darkness, his chakra flickering around him like black flame.
Let them come.
He was ready.
END OF CHAPTER 7