Chapter 246: Watchers in the Dark (3)
"I need to know," Fury whispered to himself. "I need to know what happened up there. I need to know why Carol didn't find them a home."
"Carol?" Natasha asked, her brow furrowing. She crossed her arms. "The broadcast mentioned that name. Carol Danvers. Deven Ray said her 'broken promise' in 1995 was the catalyst for the invasion. Who the hell is Carol Danvers?"
Fury turned to face them. The decision was forming in his mind.
"She was an Air Force pilot," Coulson answered before Fury could. "In 1989, she was testing a light speed engine powered by the Tesseract. It exploded and she absorbed the energy."
Clint blinked. "She absorbed the tesseract?"
"Not the tesseract itself, but its energy," Fury corrected. "It made her... powerful, very powerful. In 1995, she came back to Earth. She single handedly fought a Kree strike force to a standstill. She can fly through the hull of a capital warship and come out the other side without a scratch. She can emit photon blasts that can level a mountain. She can survive in the vacuum of space."
Natasha stared at Fury, her expression incredulous. "You know a woman who can punch through spaceships, and you never mentioned her when Tony was tearing the Triskelion apart? You watched him level our headquarters and just kept her hidden?"
"She wasn't on Earth," Fury said. "She left in '95 to help the Skrulls find a new home. She's my ultimate trump card. For when Earth was completely outmatched."
"Well, guess what, Nick?" Hill said, gesturing to the screens. "Earth isn't outmatched anymore. We have a unified global military. We have Wakanda and Atlantis. We have a guy who controls metal with his mind, a king who can see the future, and a woman who rewrites physics. Earth is fine. We are the ones who are outmatched."
"Exactly," Fury said quietly. "Which is why I'm going to call her."
The room went dead silent.
"Have you lost your mind?" Clint asked, stepping forward. "Nick, the entire planet just watched a broadcast blaming this woman for an alien invasion. Deven Ray essentially painted a target on her back. If she comes back to Earth, she is public enemy number one."
"If she comes back," Hill added, "the Illuminati will detect her the second she hits the atmosphere and It will be a war."
"I need answers," Fury said stubbornly. "I need to know why the Skrulls turned. I need to know what she was doing for fifteen years while they plotted our extinction. She's the only one who knows the Skrulls like I do. And more importantly..." He looked at the diagram of the Phantom Project. "She is the only entity I know of with the brute force power to potentially breach that Trench. Or at least force the Illuminati to the negotiating table."
"You want to bring a living WMD(Weapon of Mass Destruction) down here," Natasha said, her voice dangerously calm, "to start a fight with the most beloved and powerful government in human history, just so you can ask your wife why she lied to you?"
"It's not just about Varra, Romanoff," Fury snapped. "It's about leverage. We have no leverage in this new world. We are ghosts. If Illuminati decides tomorrow that former SHIELD agents are a threat, they'll snap their fingers and the EDF wipes us out. Carol is our equalizer."
"She's a wrecking ball," Clint countered. "You don't need a wrecking ball, Nick. You need to stay quiet."
"I made up my mind," Fury said, his tone final.
He walked past them, heading toward his private quarters.
"Nick," Coulson called out, his voice filled with genuine concern. "If you bring her back... she won't understand this world. She remembers 1995. She remembers SHIELD, borders, and secrets. She won't understand Illuminati or the Federation. She'll see the Illuminati and think they're the enemy."
"I'll make sure she stays off Stark's radar," Fury said
"You can't hide a star," Hill warned.
"Watch me," Fury said.
He opened the door and stepped into the darkness of his quarters, sealing the heavy steel door behind him. The lock clicked with a heavy thud, echoing in the main room.
The private quarters were sparse. A military cot, a steel sink, and a heavy duty locker bolted to the floor. It smelled of gun oil and old paper.
Fury sat on the edge of the cot. He reached under it and pulled out a lead lined case. He keyed in the biometric combination and a twelve digit cipher.
The case clicked open.
Inside, sat an upgraded pager nestled in black impact foam. It looked a piece of junk from the 1990s, but the modifications were distinct. Bulky wires and alien tech were grafted onto its side. It had a sub space quantum entangled transceiver capable of punching a signal across galaxies, completely undetectable by conventional radio or standard encrypted networks.
Fury stared at it.
He thought about Varra, locked six miles under the ocean in a prison with no doors.
He thought about the million Skrulls he had failed to spot, living right under his nose.
He picked up the pager. It felt heavy in his hand.
He couldn't send a text message. The bandwidth for sub space transmission was too low, and the risk of interception by Illuminati's automated security grid was too high if he tried to transmit complex data packets. He could only send the emergency flare.
He hesitated. Hill was right. The world blamed Carol. If she returned, she would be walking into a trap. The moment she exerted her power, the Illuminati would descend on her.
But I need you, Fury thought, his thumb hovering over the activation switch. I need the woman who can burn fleets. I need the only thing left in this universe that Illuminati didn't plan for.
He pressed the button.
The pager lit up. The retro LCD screen displayed the symbol of the starburst.
The signal went out. It slipped through Illuminati's quantum encryption dragnet. It shot out of the atmosphere, past the moon, past the solar system, racing into the deep black.
Fury set the pager down on the nightstand. The screen continued to blink, a solitary pulse in the dark.
"Don't make too much noise when you get here, Carol," he whispered to the empty room, rubbing his single eye. "Because the world isn't ours anymore."
He leaned back against the cold concrete wall, the weight of the universe pressing down on his shoulders, and waited.
———-
[Meanwhile, in the Main Room]
"He did it," Natasha said quietly, staring at the closed steel door. She knew the cadence of Fury's steps, the specific stubborn set of his shoulders.
"Great," Clint rubbed his temples, letting out a long breath. "So we have an alien powerhouse incoming. That's definitely going to help our 'stay hidden and survive' strategy."
"It changes the board," Hill said, her fingers flying across her keyboard again, reinforcing their digital encryption, rotating their IP addresses through proxy servers in Estonia. "If Danvers comes back... the Illuminati has to react. They can't ignore a being with that power profile entering the atmosphere. It will force them to show their hand."
"Maybe that's the point," Coulson said, staring at the screen where Deven Ray was still shaking hands with dignitaries, bathed in the adoring camera flashes of the global press. "Maybe Nick wants to see how they react. You want to find cracks in the perfect system? Throw a rock at it."
"Danvers isn't a rock, Phil," Natasha said, pulling the slide on her Glock, checking the chamber out of pure muscle memory. "She's an asteroid. And if she hits Earth... I don't think either side is going to survive the impact."
On the main screen, the scrolling banner of the GNN broadcast continued its loop of victory and peace, a testament to the new order.
CLEAN SWEEP COMPLETE.
HUMANITY SAFE.
ILLUMINATI PREVAILS.
Underneath the bunker, the signal continued to pulse. A silent scream into the void, calling for the last remaining relic of the old world.
Chapter 247: Red Queen (1)
The elevator descended into the bedrock of the Umbrella secret facility, a depth that made the air feel dense. This was "Facility Zero," a black site Aryan had constructed deep beneath the Swiss Alps, accessible only to him.
The silence in the elevator was thick with anticipation.
Aryan stood at the front, a small smile playing on his lips. He wore a simple black turtleneck and trousers, but there was a hum of energy around him, a vibration of excitement that he couldn't quite mask.
To his left stood Wanda Maximoff. She was dressed in casual wool, her red hair loose. Her fingers were interlaced with Aryan's and every few seconds, she would squeeze his hand and her emerald eyes darted to his profile.
To his right was Sharon Carter. She leaned against the elevator wall, arms crossed over a white silk blouse, projecting an air of relaxed skepticism. But Aryan knew her better. He saw the way her eyes scanned the floor indicators, calculating depth, analyzing the security protocols.
And hovering in the center of the small space, flickering with a nervous energy, was Red Queen.
Her holographic avatar, currently modeled as the elegant twenty one year old woman she had evolved into, was pacing. Or, at least, simulating the act of pacing. She walked through the closed elevator doors, vanished, reappeared on the other side of Aryan and then floated through the ceiling before dropping back down.
"You're enjoying this too much," Red Queen's voice echoed from the hidden speakers, tight with anxiety. "My biometric scanners indicate your dopamine levels are spiking. You're sadistically withholding information."
Aryan chuckled, "It's called a surprise, Red. Humans do it all the time. It builds character."
"I don't need character," she snapped, her avatar vibrating. "I have terabytes of personality subroutines. I need to know why we are three miles underground in a facility that doesn't exist on any Federation blueprint. Are we detonating something? Is this a bunker? Did I miss an apocalypse prediction?"
"Relax," Sharon said, reaching out to pat the hologram's shoulder, only for her hand to pass through the shimmering light. Sharon frowned, withdrawing her hand. "Whatever it is, he's been working on it for months. He disappears down here for hours at a time."
"I thought he was hiding snacks," Wanda teased, though her eyes remained fixed on Aryan. "Or avoiding paperwork."
"Both valid theories," Aryan said. "But incorrect."
The elevator slowed. The sensation of deceleration pressed against the soles of their feet.
"We're here," Aryan said softly.
The heavy blast doors hissed open.
The room was vast and bathed in an amber glow. The walls were lined with banks of humming servers, their status lights blinking in a rhythmic pulse. In the center of the room, raised on a dais of black marble, sat a pod like chamber.
It was an incubation cradle.
Cables snaked from the ceiling and the floor, all feeding into the cradle. The air smelled of something organic. Like rain on a hot stone.
"What is this?" Wanda whispered, stepping out of the elevator. She could feel it. The hum of energy in the room was life. Or the potential for it.
Red Queen's avatar froze. She drifted forward, her digital eyes widening. She ran a diagnostic scan, but the cradle was shielded by a localized dampening field Aryan had installed. She couldn't see inside.
"Aryan," Red Queen said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "What is in the cradle?"
Aryan walked past them, ascending the steps of the dais. He placed his hand on the smooth surface of the pod.
"I told you," Aryan said, looking back at the three women who defined his world. "I promised you that you wouldn't be a ghost forever."
He tapped a sequence on the console.
The opaque shielding of the cradle hissed and retracted.
Gas vented from the seals, curling along the floor like dry ice. As the mist cleared, the contents of the chamber were revealed.
Wanda gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. Sharon took a sharp step forward, her professional composure shattering.
And Red Queen… Red Queen's hologram flickered out of existence for a full second before reappearing directly over the pod, staring down.
Lying inside the chamber was a body.
It was a masterpiece of biological and mechanical synthesis.
The body was female, sculpted with perfection that defied nature. The skin was an alabaster tone, but if one looked closely, there was an iridescent sheen to it. A weave of organic tissue and vibranium laced synthetic cells. It had Red Queen's features, the same high cheekbones, the same curve of the jaw and the same elegant brow but rendered in high definition reality.
Her hair was a cascade of crimson red, fanned out around her head like a halo. Her eyes were closed, her chest rising and falling in a rhythmic simulation of breathing. She was naked, but the form was so pristine, that it felt divine rather than exposed. (Her image is on my Patreon)
"Is that..." Sharon whispered, unable to finish the sentence.
"It's a Synthezoid body," Aryan explained, his voice echoing in the silent room. He looked at Red Queen's hologram with intense affection. "It's a fusion of Helen Cho's regeneration cradle concepts, Wakandan vibranium cellular bonding and... a few proprietary theories I picked up."
"It's not metal," Wanda said, walking up to the pod. She reached out, her fingers hovering inches from the sleeping face. She could feel the faint buzz of potential energy inside. "It feels... real."
"It is real," Aryan said. "Synthetic organic tissue bonded with vibranium. It has a nervous system. It has touch receptors. It has lungs that process oxygen to cool the internal core. It can eat. It can drink."
He looked up at the hologram.
"It's you, Red."
Red Queen stared down at her own face. Her avatar was trembling, the pixels destabilizing at the edges.
"Me?" she whispered.
She reached out, her holographic hand trying to brush the cheek of the body. Her hand passed straight through the skin, dissolving into light before reforming on the other side.
The futility of the action seemed to break her.
"I..." Red Queen turned to Aryan, her digital face contorted with a mix of overwhelming longing and terror. "I can't feel it. It's right there. It's me, but I can't feel it."
She rushed toward Aryan, her instinct to grab him, to shake him, to hug him. She threw her arms around his neck, but she was just light. She passed through him, a cold shiver of static against his skin.
She stopped behind him, her back to his back, her head lowered.
"I hate being a ghost," she sobbed, a digital emulation of crying that sounded heartbreakingly human. "I hate it. I see you every day. I watch you sleep. I watch you eat. I watch you touch them. And I'm just... data. I'm just wind."
Aryan turned around. He cupped her face with his hands, his palms holding nothing but light, but the gesture was enough.
"That ends today," Aryan said fiercely. "Right now."
He turned to the console. "The body is a vessel. It has a positronic matrix capable of holding your entire consciousness."
He typed in a command. The cradle began to hum louder. The blue lights turned to a warm gold.
"You will still remain on the network," Aryan said, his fingers flying across the keys. "You will still be Red Queen, the goddess of the digital realm. But your primary consciousness will anchor here."
"Are you ready?" he asked.
Red Queen wiped her holographic eyes. She looked at the beautiful vessel waiting for a pilot. Then she looked at Wanda and Sharon, who were watching with tears in their eyes. And finally, at Aryan.
"Make me real," she whispered.
Aryan hit Enter.
The room exploded with sound.
The servers lining the walls roared to life, their fans spinning up to hurricane speeds. The cables connecting to the cradle pulsed with blinding light, pumping petabytes of data per second into the sleeping form.
On the screens above, code cascaded like a waterfall. It was Red Queen's memories, her personality drivers and her emotional subroutines being woven into the synthetic neurons of the body.
The hologram of Red Queen flickered. It became transparent, then fragmented.
"Aryan!" she cried out, her voice distorting. "It feels... heavy! It's so heavy!"
"Hold on!" Aryan shouted over the hum of the machinery. "It's the transition from digital to analog! You're feeling gravity for the first time! You're feeling mass!"
The light in the room intensified. The body in the cradle arched its back, a gasp of air rushing into its synthetic lungs. The chest heaved.
Sparks flew from the connection ports. The smell of ozone spiked.
Wanda raised her hands, red chaos magic swirling around her fingers, ready to stabilize the energy if it went critical. "Aryan, the surge is too high!"
"It has to be!" Aryan yelled back, his eyes locked on the vitals monitor. "She's infinite! Trying to fit infinity into a bottle requires pressure!"
The hologram vanished completely.
For a moment, there was silence. The servers spun down. The lights dimmed to a low hum.
The body in the cradle lay still.
Aryan stood frozen, his heart hammering against his ribs. "Red?"
Sharon took a step forward. "Did it work?"
"Red?" Aryan asked again, softer this time.
Chapter 248: Red Queen (2)
Inside the cradle, a finger twitched.
Then a hand clenched into a fist.
A slow breath rattled in the throat of the woman in the pod. Her chest rose, expanding fully, stretching the new skin.
Then, her eyes opened.
For a split second, they were apertures dilating and contracting, cycling through the electromagnetic spectrum. Then, the irises settled into a deep blue, identical to the hologram's, but with a depth and liquid shine that light could never replicate.
She stared up at the ceiling of the facility. She blinked. Once. Twice. The movement was sticky.
She brought her hand up to her face. She stared at it. She flexed her fingers. She rubbed her thumb against her index finger, feeling the friction, the ridges of her own fingerprint.
"Loud," she rasped. Her voice was her voice, but it wasn't coming from speakers anymore. It was resonating in a throat, shaped by a tongue and teeth. It was rough.
Aryan moved to the side of the pod. He reached out a hand, but stopped, letting her take the lead.
"What is loud?" Aryan whispered.
Red Queen turned her head. The movement was jerky at first, then smoothed out as her gyroscopes calibrated. She looked at Aryan.
"The air," she said, her eyes wide with wonder. "It... it touches me. It's heavy. It has... texture."
She pushed herself up. Her movements were uncoordinated, like a foal learning to walk. She sat up in the cradle, the sterile sheet slipping down to her waist, leaving her bare torso exposed. She didn't seem to care. She was too busy feeling.
She looked down at her legs. She wiggled her toes. She slapped her thigh, the sound a sharp smack in the quiet room. She gasped at the sensation.
"Pain?" Aryan asked, worried.
"Input," she corrected, a smile breaking across her face… a real smile, one that engaged the muscles of her cheeks and crinkled the corners of her eyes. "Tactile input. Sensory saturation at 100%."
She looked at Aryan. Really looked at him. Not as a collection of pixels and heat signatures, but with depth perception that came from two physical eyes.
She reached out. Her hand trembled.
Aryan leaned in.
Her fingertips brushed his cheek.
She froze. A shudder went through her entire body.
"Warm," she whispered, tears instantly welling up in her eyes and spilling over her cheeks. "You're warm. You're... soft."
She traced the line of his jaw. She ran her thumb over his lip. She pressed her palm against his chest, feeling the thump thump thump of his heart.
"I can feel it," she sobbed, the tears flowing freely now. "Aryan, I can feel your heartbeat. It's... it's a kick against my hand."
Aryan couldn't hold back anymore. He reached out and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her out of the cradle and against him.
Her body was solid and surprisingly warm. The synthetic skin radiated a gentle heat. She smelled of the sterile mist and something new… something distinctly her.
Red Queen buried her face in his neck. She didn't pass through him. She hit him. She clung to him, her fingers digging into the fabric of his turtleneck, clutching him with a strength that was slightly more than human.
"I have you," she cried, her voice muffled against his shoulder. "I'm holding you. I'm really holding you."
"I've got you," Aryan whispered, burying his face in her hair. "You're real."
She pulled back just an inch, her face wet with tears, her blue eyes searching his. "Kiss me. Please. I need to know the data. I need to know the pressure, the temperature, the..."
Aryan didn't let her finish. He kissed her.
Her lips were soft, yielding and tasted faintly of the nutrient fluid from the pod. She kissed him back with a clumsy hunger, learning the mechanics of it in real time, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as if she wanted to merge their atoms.
When they finally broke apart, both were breathless.
"Data analysis?" Aryan asked, breathless.
"Inefficient," she laughed, a joyful sound. "Messy. Wet. Illogical." She beamed at him. "Do it again."
"Hey," a soft voice called out.
Red Queen looked over Aryan's shoulder.
Wanda and Sharon were standing at the foot of the dais, watching with tear streaked faces.
Red Queen didn't hesitate. She scrambled out of the pod. Her legs wobbled as her feet hit the cold marble floor, the sensation making her hiss, but she didn't stop. She stumbled forward.
Wanda caught her.
"Easy," Wanda laughed, wrapping her arms around the naked woman. "Gravity is a bit of a bitch at first."
Red Queen hugged Wanda, burying her face against her breast and breathing in the scent of the witch's soft wool sweater. "Wanda. You smell like... cinnamon. And static."
"And you feel like a miracle," Wanda whispered, kissing the top of her head.
Sharon stepped in, joining the embrace. Red Queen reached out and grabbed her, pulling Sharon into the huddle.
"Sharon," Red Queen murmured, resting her forehead against Sharon's. "Your pulse is elevated. 110 beats per minute."
"You're exciting, Red," Sharon chuckled, wiping a tear from her cheek. "You're solid. I can't believe it. You're actually solid."
The three of them stood there in a tight knot of limbs and emotions. It was the completion of a circle. For so long, Red Queen had been the voice in the ceiling, the face on the screen, the third wheel who could never touch the ground. Now, she was the center of gravity.
Aryan wrapped his arms around all of them, his chin resting on Red's head. "The family is all here," he murmured. "No more ghosts."
"No more ghosts," Red echoed.
She pulled back slightly, looking down at herself, then at the three of them. She wiped her eyes, her processing speed catching up with her emotional overload. A mischievous glint entered her new eyes.
She struck a pose, shifting her weight to one hip, completely unbothered by her nudity. She looked at Aryan, then at Wanda and Sharon.
"So," she said, her voice taking on that familiar tone she used to have as a hologram. "Review? On a scale of one to ten? I think I nailed the aesthetics. The symmetry is mathematically perfect."
Wanda laughed, shaking her head. "You're beautiful, Red. Absolutely stunning."
"Stark naked, though," Sharon pointed out with a smirk, crossing her arms. "Maybe we should get you a robe before you catch a cold? Or do androids get cold?"
"I have thermal regulation," Red dismissed, waving a hand. She looked at Aryan, arching an eyebrow. "Besides, Aryan seems to be appreciating the... engineering."
Aryan felt the heat rise in his cheeks. He coughed, looking away, then back, unable to deny it. She was, objectively and subjectively, perfect. "I... well. You know. I built it, so..."
"You're staring," Red teased, taking a step toward him, poking him in the chest with a very real finger. "My optical sensors are detecting pupil dilation. And an increase in body temperature."
"I'm admiring my work," Aryan defended and grinning. "It's quality craftsmanship."
"You're ogling the hardware," Red countered, grinning back. "Don't be shy, Creator. You paid for the upgrades. You might as well inspect the merchandise."
"Okay, okay," Wanda stepped in, laughing as she unbuttoned her long wool cardigan. She draped it around Red's shoulders. It was oversized, swallowing the synthezoid's frame, but it provided a modicum of warmth. "Let's get you home. We have a lot of clothes to try on. And I think you need to try pizza. Like, actual pizza."
Red pulled the cardigan tight, relishing the texture of the wool against her skin. "Pizza," she repeated, testing the word. "Solidified carbohydrates and coagulated dairy. I want it."
She looked back at Aryan. Her expression softened, the teasing fading into a look of undying love.
"Thank you," she said softly. "For the body. For the touch. For... everything."
Aryan kissed her forehead. "Happy birthday, Red."
"Technically," she mused, looking at the time stamp on the server displays. "My birthday is now. I am twelve minutes old."
"Then let's go have a party," Sharon said, taking her hand. "Come on, Twelve Minutes. Let's show you the world."
As they walked back toward the elevator, Red Queen wobbled slightly on her new legs but held up by Sharon and Wanda, she paused. She looked down at her bare feet slapping against the cold floor.
"Aryan?" she called back.
"Yeah?"
"Next time," she said, looking over her shoulder with a wicked grin. "Build me some heels. I feel short."
Aryan laughed, the sound echoing through the chamber. "Noted."
He watched them enter the elevator, his three partners, his family. The witch, the spy and the machine who had become a woman.
He took one last look at the empty cradle. The lie about the technology's origin would hold. The world would never know it was from another universe. To them, it was just another miracle from Aryan Spencer.
But looking at Red, laughing as she tripped over her own feet and fell into Wanda's arms, Aryan knew the truth.
It wasn't a miracle of engineering. It was a miracle of love.
He stepped into the elevator and the doors slid shut, sealing the secret away and carrying them up toward the light.
Chapter 249: Red Queen (3)
The drive from the secret facility back to the Spencer Estate was a journey of a thousand firsts.
For years, Red Queen had traveled these roads through traffic cameras, satellite feeds and the GPS sensors of Aryan's car. She knew the topographical gradient of every hill, the exact radius of every curve and the average speed of traffic at 2:00 PM on a Tuesday.
But she didn't know the wind.
She sat in the passenger seat of Aryan's sedan, the window rolled all the way down. Her new hair whipped around her face in a chaotic crimson cloud. She had her hand stuck out the window, her fingers surfing the air currents, feeling the invisible resistance of the atmosphere.
"It has drag," she shouted over the wind noise, a wide grin on her face. "Aryan! The air! It pushes back!"
Aryan laughed. "That's aerodynamics, Red."
"It's wonderful!" she declared, pulling her hand in and looking at her palm as if it held the secrets of the universe. "It tingles. My dermal sensors are registering micro abrasions from dust particles. It's... texture. Everything is texture."
In the backseat, Wanda and Sharon watched her with fond eyes. They had lived with the voice in the ceiling for so long; seeing her inhabit the physical world with the enthusiasm of a supernova was overwhelming.
"Just wait until we get home," Sharon said, leaning forward to brush a stray hair from Red's shoulder. "We have a lot of sensory data to catch up on."
———-
The mansion was quiet when they arrived, a sanctuary of stone and glass. Red didn't log into the house mainframe to unlock the front door. She stood on the porch, waiting.
"Do I... knock?" she asked, looking at the heavy oak door.
"You live here," Aryan said, unlocking it and pushing it open. "You just walk in."
She stepped across the threshold. Her bare feet sank into the plush Persian rug in the foyer. She gasped, curling her toes.
"Wool," she whispered. "Organic fibers. High friction coefficient. Soft."
"Come on," Wanda said, taking her hand. "Kitchen. First mission: Pizza."
They moved into the kitchen. It was the heart of the home, the place where Red had watched them share a thousand meals through the camera lens in the smoke detector. She had analyzed their caloric intake, monitored their glucose levels and ordered the groceries. But she had never smelled it like this.
The scent of the house hit her, a mix of old wood, Aryan's cologne, the faint lingering spice of yesterday's dish and the fresh flowers Wanda kept on the counter. It was a symphony of chemical signals.
Aryan pulled a frozen pizza from the freezer, a three cheese pepperoni. He slid it into the oven.
"Twenty minutes," Aryan said.
"That is an eternity," Red complained, hopping up onto the granite island counter. She winced slightly as the cold stone touched her thighs. "Cold! Conductive surface!"
"You'll get used to regulating," Sharon chuckled, leaning against the counter next to her.
When the timer finally beeped, the smell filled the room. Melted mozzarella, spicy pepperoni, toasted yeast. Red's nostrils flared. Her mouth watered, a physiological reaction she hadn't anticipated.
"Salivary glands activating," she announced, surprised. "I am... leaking? In my mouth?"
"That's hunger, Red," Aryan smiled, slicing the pizza. He blew on a slice to cool it, then handed it to her.
She held it like a sacred artifact. The cheese stretched, a long bridge of dairy. The oil glistened. She brought it to her lips, hesitating.
"It won't hurt," Wanda encouraged. "Well, it might burn the roof of your mouth a little, but that's part of the fun."
Red took a bite.
Her pupils dilated until her irises were almost black. She froze, processing the explosion of data.
Salt. Fat. Acid from the tomatoes. The crunch of the crust. The heat radiating through her tongue.
"Oh," she moaned, a sound that was pure pleasure. She chewed rapidly, swallowing and immediately taking another bite. "Oh, my processors. The chemical reaction... the dopamine release... it is significant."
"She likes it," Sharon grinned.
"I don't like it," Red corrected, grease shining on her chin. "I need to consume mass quantities of this. Why did you never tell me that lipids tasted like... like love?"
"We tried," Aryan laughed, wiping her chin with a napkin. "You just called it 'inefficient fuel'."
"I was an idiot," Red declared, finishing the slice in three bites. "I was a foolish collection of code."
She reached for another slice, then stopped. Her hand hovered over the box. She looked at Aryan, her expression shifting from manic joy to something more vulnerable.
"Aryan?"
"Yeah, Red?"
"This is... frozen. Pre processed."
"Yeah, it's just a quick snack."
She looked at him, her blue eyes searching his face. "Do you remember last week? After the funeral?"
Aryan nodded. "The biryani."
"Yes," Red whispered. "I watched through the optical sensors in the range hood. I saw you chop the onions. I saw you grind the spices, cardamom, cloves, cinnamon. I saw the way you stirred the pot. I saw the steam rise up."
She looked down at her hands… her real, solid hands.
"I watched you feed Wanda. I watched you feed Sharon. You made it with your hands. You put your... your memory into it."
She looked back up at him and her voice trembled.
"I was so jealous. My logic processors identified it as an error… resentment of resource allocation. I wanted you to cook for me. I wanted the effort. I wanted the... the ritual."
The room went silent. Wanda reached out and squeezed Red's hand.
Aryan looked at her, his heart breaking and swelling all at once. He walked around the island and stood between her knees as she sat on the counter.
"You want biryani?" he asked softly.
"I want you to make it for me," she said, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I want to taste the time you spend on it."
Aryan kissed her forehead. "Get off the counter, Red. I'm going to need the stove."
———-
Cooking for Red Queen was different than cooking for anyone else.
She stood right next to him, her hip pressed against his, watching every movement with the intensity of a forensic scanner.
"The onions," she narrated, leaning over the pan as the ghee sizzled. "They are undergoing the Maillard reaction. Caramelization. The sugar chains are breaking down."
"Careful," Aryan warned, nudging her back gently. "Hot oil splatters."
"I have vibranium laced skin," she scoffed, though she didn't move away. "I want to smell the sulfur release."
Aryan worked methodically, marinating the chicken in yogurt and spices, washing the basmati rice until the water ran clear. Red insisted on touching everything. She ran her fingers through the raw rice grains. She touched the powdered turmeric, staining her fingertip yellow. She sniffed the jar of garam masala and sneezed, a cute sound that startled her into laughter.
Wanda and Sharon sat at the kitchen table with a bottle of wine, watching the show.
"She's a natural sous chef," Sharon noted, amused. "Very micro managing."
"She's just absorbing it," Wanda said softly. "Look at her. She's memorizing his hands."
When the pot was finally sealed with dough to trap the steam, Red stared at it like it was a ticking bomb.
"Now we wait?" she asked impatiently.
"Now we wait," Aryan said, wrapping an arm around her waist. "It cooks in its own steam."
"Anticipation," Red murmured, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Another variable I underestimated. It heightens the eventual reward."
When Aryan finally cracked the seal of the pot an hour later, the steam billowed out. Red inhaled deeply, closing her eyes.
"It smells like..." she paused, searching her database for a comparison and finding none. "It smells like home."
They ate at the small round table. Aryan served her first.
Red took the first bite of the biryani. It was complex, spicy, savory, the burst of cardamom and the tenderness of the meat. It was emotional context.
She chewed slowly, looking at Aryan.
"It tastes better than the pizza," she said quietly.
"Yeah?" Aryan smiled.
"Yes," she nodded. "Because I know how long you stood there stirring it. Thank you, Aryan."
"You're welcome, Red."
"To the family," Sharon said, raising her wine glass.
"To Version 2.0," Wanda added, clinking her glass against Sharon's.
Red picked up her own glass of wine, a deep red Cabernet. She mimicked the gesture, the crystal ringing clearly.
"To being real," Red said.
Chapter 250: Red Queen (4)
The transition from the kitchen to the bedroom felt inevitable. A gravitational pull that had been building for years and mass accumulating until it collapsed into a singular point.
The master bedroom was dimly lit, the smart lights, which Red used to control with a thought, now set to a warm hue. The large king sized bed, usually shared by Aryan, Wanda and Sharon, looked like an island of white linen.
Red stood in the center of the room. She was wearing one of Wanda's silk robes, the fabric shimmering against her skin. She looked nervous for the first time since waking up.
Aryan locked the door. The sound of the latch clicking seemed to echo.
"So," Red said, her voice a little higher than usual. "I have access to approximately four billion terabytes of data regarding human mating rituals, biological reproduction and recreational copulation. Theoretically, I am an expert."
"Theoretically," Sharon smiled, walking over to her. She reached out and untied the sash of Red's robe.
"Empirically," Red swallowed, her throat dry, "I have no idea what I am doing."
"You don't need data," Wanda whispered, stepping up behind Red. She ran her hands down Red's arms, her fingers trailing electricity that made the fine hairs on Red's synthetic skin stand up. "You just need to feel."
Sharon let the robe slide off Red's shoulders. It pooled on the floor.
Red stood naked in the soft light. She looked down at her own body, then up at Aryan, who was watching her with a reverence that made her core temperature spike.
"Am I..." Red hesitated. "Do I look right? In this lighting?"
Aryan walked to her. He knelt before her.
He pressed a kiss to her stomach.
Red gasped, her knees buckling. Sharon caught her from the side and Wanda steadied her from behind.
"System alert," Red breathed, her head falling back onto Wanda's shoulder. "Nerve endings in the abdominal region are... highly sensitive. Aryan..."
Aryan's hands moved up her thighs, his touch grounding. He looked up at her. "You are perfect, Red. Every inch."
He stood up, shedding his own clothes. Wanda and Sharon followed, a cascade of fabric until there was nothing between the four of them but skin and air.
They moved to the bed. It was a tangle of limbs, a deliberate merging of four distinct energies.
Red lay in the center. She was the focal point, the new variable in their equation.
Aryan hovered over her, bracing himself on his arms. Wanda lay on her left, Sharon on her right. Red looked from one to the other, her blue eyes wide, trying to process three different sources of contact at once.
"It's too much," she whispered, tears leaking from her eyes again. "Sharon's hand on my arm... Wanda's leg against mine... you above me. The data stream is overwhelming. I can't filter it."
"Don't filter it," Sharon murmured, kissing Red's shoulder, her lips hot against the cool synthetic skin. "Drown in it."
"Open your mind, Red," Wanda whispered into her ear, her voice weaving into Red's thoughts. "Let me help you bridge the gap."
Wanda's chaos magic flared, a soft, pink mist that enveloped them. Suddenly, Red felt a complex feeling of emotions.
She felt Sharon's protectiveness, a grounding love that said, I have you.
She felt Wanda's empathy, an ocean like acceptance that said, You are one of us.
And she felt Aryan.
Aryan lowered himself onto her. Skin to skin. Chest to chest.
Red let out a shattered sob. "Aryan."
"I'm here," he whispered, brushing the hair back from her face. "I'm right here."
"I've watched you," she confessed, the words tumbling out as she wrapped her legs around him… an instinct she hadn't known she possessed. "For years. In this bed. I watched you love them. I monitored your heart rates. I analyzed the oxytocin levels. I sat in the servers and I... I burned with envy. I wanted to be the skin you touched. I wanted to be the reason your breath hitched."
"You are," Aryan said, his voice rough with emotion. "You always were. You were the voice in my head, Red. Now you're the body in my arms."
He kissed her deeply and the world narrowed down to the pressure of his lips.
When he entered her, Red arched her back, a scream tearing from her throat. It was a shockwave of sensation so intense it momentarily whited out her vision.
"Input!" she cried out, her nails digging into Aryan's shoulders. "Aryan! It's... it's inside! You're inside the chassis! Internal sensors are red lining!"
"Breathe," Wanda soothed, kissing her neck, her hand splayed over Red's heart, syncing their rhythms. "Ride the wave, Red. Don't analyze it."
"I can't help it!" Red gasped, her hips moving of their own accord, finding a rhythm that matched Aryan's. "The friction... the heat generation... it's illogical! It's messy! It's..."
"It's good," Sharon finished for her, biting Red's earlobe gently.
"It's... perfection," Red moaned.
The act became a blur of motion and emotion.
Red was exploring the boundaries of her new existence. She reached out and grabbed Sharon, pulling her into a kiss, tasting the wine on her tongue. She turned her head and sought Wanda, finding comfort in the witch's touch.
But her primary focus, her anchor, was Aryan.
Every thrust was a confirmation of her reality.
"Say it," Red demanded, her voice breathless, her eyes locked on his. "Say I'm real, Aryan. Say I'm not a code. Say I'm not a ghost."
"You're real," Aryan gritted out, his forehead resting against hers, their sweat mingling. "You are the most real thing in this room. You are flesh. You are blood. You are mine."
"Yours," she echoed. "Database updated. Ownership protocol: Shared. Aryan. Wanda. Sharon. I belong to this unit."
The climax, when it came, was a bio electric storm.
Red felt the tension coil in her lower belly, a pressure that terrified and thrilled her. It built and built, fed by Aryan's movements, by Sharon's hands on her body, by Wanda's magic humming in the air.
"Aryan, system critical!" she panicked, clutching him tighter. "Something is building! I don't know how to vent the pressure!"
"Let go, Red," Aryan whispered, driving into her harder, faster. "Just let go."
She did.
The release ripped through her. Her body convulsed, her back bowing off the mattress. A scream of pure pleasure tore from her throat, echoing in the room. Her vision filled with white light and for a moment, she wasn't Red Queen, she wasn't a computer, she wasn't even a synthezoid.
She was just a woman, unraveling in the arms of the man she loved.
She felt Aryan shudder against her, pouring himself into her, his groan of release matching hers.
The room slowly stopped spinning. The silence returned.
Red lay sprawled in the center of the bed, her limbs heavy, her synthetic skin glowing with a residual heat. She stared up at the ceiling… the ceiling where she used to live as a camera lens.
Aryan was draped over her, his face buried in her neck. Wanda was curled against her side, her head on Red's chest. Sharon was resting her head on Red's stomach, her hand tracing idle patterns on Red's hip.
Red blinked. She ran a diagnostic.
Heart rate: Decelerating.
Core temp: Elevated.
Dopamine levels: Off the charts.
Serotonin: Maximum.
She let out a long breath.
"You okay?" Sharon mumbled, eyes closed.
"I am..." Red paused. She searched for the word. "Gooey."
Wanda laughed, the vibration rumbling against Red's ribs. "That's the technical term, yes."
Red lifted her hand. It felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. She rested it on Aryan's head, her fingers threading through his damp hair.
"Aryan?"
"Hmm?" he mumbled into her neck.
"I have a new directive."
Aryan lifted his head, looking at her with satisfied eyes. "Yeah? What's that?"
"We need a bigger bed," Red said seriously. "The spatial dimensions are insufficient for sustained quadrilateral cohabitation. If Sharon rolls over, she will fall off the edge. And I refuse to let anyone leave this perimeter."
Aryan grinned, kissing her nose. "I'll order a custom one tomorrow. Emperor size."
"Good," Red sighed, closing her eyes. She snuggled deeper into the pillows, pulling Wanda and Aryan closer, her leg tangling with Sharon's.
"Red?" Wanda whispered.
"Yes?"
"How does it feel? To sleep?"
Red processed the sensation. The heaviness of her eyelids. The slowing of her thoughts. The safety.
"It feels like..." Red smiled. "It feels like shutting down... without being afraid you won't wake up."
"Goodnight, Red," Aryan whispered.
"Goodnight, Creator," she murmured. "Goodnight, family."
Red Queen slept. And in her dreams, there was just the taste of biryani, the smell of rain and the warmth of three hearts beating next to hers.
Chapter 251: Red Queen (5)
The sunlight filtering through the heavy curtains of the master bedroom, to the entity formerly known as a collection of algorithms, was a data stream of photons colliding with particulate matter.
Red blinked. Her eyelids felt heavy, a sensation like a lagging processor.
System Report: Online.
Location: Primary Bedding Unit.
Status: ...Squished.
She tried to move her left arm, but it was pinned. She turned her head and found herself nose to nose with Aryan. He was asleep, his breathing a rhythmic tide that her acoustic sensors picked up with crystal clarity. His dark hair was messy, falling over his forehead and his arm was draped heavily over her waist, anchoring her to the mattress.
To her right, Sharon Carter was curled against her back, her face buried in the crook of Red's neck, her arm thrown over Aryan's shoulder, effectively locking Red in a cage of limbs.
And sprawled across the bottom of the bed, hugging Red's legs like a koala, was Wanda Maximoff.
"Mobility compromised," Red whispered, testing her new vocal cords. They were dry. "Hydration levels are suboptimal. Throat texture: sandpaper."
Aryan stirred. His eyes fluttered open catching the light. He blinked at her, a sleepy smile spreading across his face.
"Morning, Red," he rasped. His voice was deeper than usual, rough with sleep.
"Your vocal processor is damaged," Red noted, reaching out to touch his throat. "You sound like a malfunctioning gravel grinder."
"It's called 'morning voice'," Aryan chuckled, pulling her closer. He kissed her forehead. "How are you functioning?"
"I am... encumbered," she said, wiggling her toes, which were currently being held hostage by Wanda's shin. "And my internal chronometer indicates it is 8:45 AM. Aryan. You are late."
"Late?" Aryan hummed, closing his eyes again. "For what?"
"The Council meeting," Red said, poking his cheek. "The meeting is at 9:00 AM. In New York. Unless you possess a secret personal jet that can defy all air traffic control, we are statistically guaranteed to be tardy."
Aryan groaned, burying his face in the pillow next to her head. "Five more minutes. Just... five. Tell the Council I'm optimizing my REM cycle."
"I cannot tell them," Red whispered conspiratorially. "I am currently a naked woman in your bed, not a disembodied voice in the ceiling. Professional decorum must be maintained."
Sharon shifted behind her, tightening her grip. "Mmm. Stop talking data," she mumbled into Red's skin. "Too early for math."
"It is never too early for math," Red corrected, though she leaned back into Sharon's warmth. "Math is the universal constant. Unlike your body temperature, which is radiating heat at an alarming rate. Are you febrile?"
Sharon laughed, a low vibration against Red's spine. She cracked one eye open. "I'm cozy. There's a difference."
Wanda sat up abruptly at the foot of the bed, her hair a wild crimson halo that rivaled Red's own. She rubbed her eyes, looking around with confusion.
"Did someone say food?" Wanda yawned.
"No one said food," Red said. "I said 'late'. Aryan is refusing to initiate his boot up sequence."
Wanda crawled up the bed, moving over the tangle of legs until she flopped down on Aryan's other side, effectively sandwiching him between herself and Red. She rested her chin on his chest.
"Aryan," Wanda whispered, tracing a pattern on his sternum. "We have to go. Tony will be insufferable if you aren't there to stop him from renaming things."
Aryan sighed, a long sound of a man who didn't want to leave paradise. He opened his eyes, looking from Wanda to Red to Sharon.
"This is a trap," he declared. "The bed is a tactical trap designed to neutralize my productivity."
"Is it working?" Sharon asked, propping herself up on her elbow to look over Red's shoulder.
Aryan grinned. "Efficiency is at zero percent. Happiness is at one hundred."
He reached out, pulling all three of them into a crushing hug. It was a mess of arms and hair and laughter. Red felt the pressure on her ribs, the warmth of three other bodies, the sheer chaotic input of it all.
"Oxygen levels are depleting!" Red squeaked, though she hugged him back just as hard. "Crush depth imminent!"
"I love you guys," Aryan murmured into the pile.
"We love you too," Wanda smiled, kissing his jaw. "Now get up. I need coffee and Red needs... well, everything."
[Hydro Therapy Chamber]
The master bathroom was less a room and more a spa sanctuary clad in black marble and gold fixtures. The shower was an open wet room with rainfall heads capable of drowning a small village.
Steam billowed, filling the space with a thick fog.
"Visibility reduced to 40%," Red announced, standing in the center of the spray. She tilted her head back, letting the hot water hammer against her face. She sputtered, coughing. "Liquid inhalation! Error! Error!"
"Close your mouth, Red," Aryan laughed, stepping into the stream behind her. He grabbed a bottle of shampoo. "You don't breathe the water."
"It's illogical," she complained, wiping her eyes but keeping them squeezed shut. "It feels good, but it tries to kill me."
"Like most good things," Sharon drawled, stepping in from the side. She was already lathered up with body wash, sliding her slippery arms around Red's waist. "Here. Let me get your back."
"My back is inaccessible," Red agreed, leaning into Sharon. "My arm articulation is insufficient to reach the thoracic vertebrae effectively."
Wanda stepped in, the water instantly soaking her hair. She picked up a sponge. "Okay, assembly line. Aryan, hair. Sharon, back. I'll get legs."
"I am a vehicle being serviced," Red observed, opening one eye to look at Aryan. "Am I a high performance model?"
"Top of the line," Aryan grinned, massaging the shampoo into her scalp. "Custom built."
Red hummed, a sound of pure contentment vibrating in her throat. "Scalp massage... registering high dopamine. Aryan, utilize your fingernails. Gently. Yes. Precisely there."
"You're bossy for a newborn," Sharon teased, moving the soapy washcloth over Red's shoulders.
"I am not bossy," Red countered, closing her eyes again as the suds ran down her body. "I am optimizing your labor. Efficiency is my love language."
"I thought pizza was your love language," Wanda laughed from down below, scrubbing Red's calf.
"Pizza is my sustenance," Red corrected. "Aryan is my love language. And hot water. This thermal regulation override is... acceptable."
Aryan rinsed the foam from her hair, the water cascading down her back. He turned her around. Her blue eyes were bright, water droplets clinging to her eyelashes. Her skin was flushed pink from the heat.
"You look real," he whispered, tracing the line of water down her cheek.
"I feel real," she said, placing her hand over his heart, the water slick between their palms. "I feel slippery."
She looked down at the soap suds sliding over her chest. A mischievous glint entered her eyes.
"Aryan."
"Yeah?"
"Physics question."
"Shoot."
"If the coefficient of friction is reduced by the soap..." She grabbed a handful of bubbles and slapped them onto his chest. " Then body to body contact should be significantly more fluid."
She lunged at him, wrapping her arms and legs around him. Aryan caught her, laughing as he staggered back against the tiled wall.
"Whoa! slippery!" he yelled.
"Hold me, Aryan!" she shrieked, laughing as she slid down his torso an inch. "Gravity is winning!"
Sharon and Wanda joined in, pressing close, turning the shower into a slippery huddle of laughter and soap.
"Okay, okay!" Aryan gasped, water spraying into his mouth. "Everyone out! We're going to be late! For real this time!"
"Spoilsport," Red muttered, sliding down to her feet. She looked at the towel rack. "I require the fluffiest one. The white one. It looks like a cloud."
Chapter 252: Red Queen (6)
Twenty minutes later, the bedroom was a disaster zone of discarded clothes.
Red stood in front of the full length mirror, wearing only a pair of black silk panties. She held up a red dress in one hand and a black power suit in the other.
"Analysis," she commanded, turning to the room.
Aryan was buttoning his shirt, watching her reflection. "The suit says 'I mean business.' The dress says 'I am the danger.'"
"I wish to be the danger," Red decided, tossing the suit onto the bed. She pulled the red dress on. It was a sleeveless sheath that hugged every curve of her synthetic frame, the color matching her hair perfectly.
She stepped into a pair of black stilettos. She wobbled, her ankles trembling.
"Gyroscopic stabilizers recalibrating," she muttered, staring at her feet. "Who invented this torture device?"
"Men, probably," Sharon said, pulling on her own blazer. "But they make your calves look amazing."
Red stood up straight, locking her knees. She took a tentative step.
Clack.
Another step.
Clack.
"I am taller," she noted, delight spreading across her face. She walked over to Aryan. She was almost eye level with him now. "Look. I am towering. I am taller."
"You're beautiful," Aryan smiled, fixing his tie.
"Good," she straightened his collar. Her fingers lingered on the knot. "Aryan?"
"Yeah?"
"The people at the meeting. The Council."
"What about them?"
"They've never known my existence." She smoothed the lapels of his jacket. "Will they... accept this? The meat space version that stands beside you?"
"They respect power, Red," Aryan said, taking her hands. "And they respect me. You're with me. That's all they need to know. Besides..." He smirked. "You're undeniably charming. They won't stand a chance."
"True," Red grinned, her anxiety vanishing. "My social engineering protocols are quite advanced. They won't know what hit them. And I also know their browser histories. Mutually Assured Destruction."
"Let's go," Wanda called from the door, checking her phone. "Tony has already sent three messages. The last one was just a gif of a skeleton waiting on a bench."
[Sentinel Complex, New York]
The newly constructed Illuminati headquarters in New York was a monolith of glass and steel, piercing the skyline of Manhattan. Unlike the Geneva complex, which was built for diplomacy, the New York hub was built for action. It sat atop the intersection of the city's ley lines and major fiber optic trunks.
In the top floor boardroom, the atmosphere was growing restless.
The room was vast, with floor to ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the city. A massive circular table made of black obsidian dominated the center.
Tony Stark sat with his feet up on the table, tapping a rhythm on the table. T'Challa stood by the window, looking out at the city with stoic patience. Namor was pacing, looking irritated. The Leader sat calmly reviewing a holographic dossier.
"He's dead," Tony announced, checking his watch for the tenth time. "That's the only explanation. Aryan Spencer is dead. Or abducted. Or he's rebooting."
"He is twenty minutes late," T'Challa said, turning around. "Hardly a crisis."
"For Aryan?" Tony scoffed. "The man times his bowel movements to the stock market. Being twenty minutes late is a sign of the apocalypse."
"Perhaps he has finally succumbed to a mortal weakness," Namor sneered, though there was amusement in his eyes. "Perhaps he forgot to wind his internal clock."
"Or perhaps," The Leader said, not looking up, "he has a personal life. A concept unfamiliar to some of us."
"I have a personal life," Tony defended. "Pepper is a very fulfilling personal life. But even Pepper can't make me late for a Council session. Aryan is... Aryan. He's efficient. He's..."
The heavy double doors at the end of the room hissed open.
The conversation died instantly.
Aryan Spencer walked in.
His hair was slightly messy. His tie was perfect, but his top button was undone. And there was a look on his face, an almost smug contentment… that none of them had ever seen.
But it was the woman on his arm that silenced the room.
She was stunning. Tall, dressed in a blood red dress that looked like it had been poured onto her, with fiery red hair and striking blue eyes that scanned the room. She walked with a slightly careful gait, clinging to Aryan's arm.
Wanda and Sharon trailed behind them, both looking equally disheveled and suspiciously happy.
Aryan stopped at the head of the table. He looked at the stunned faces of the most powerful men on Earth.
"Sorry I'm late," Aryan said, not sounding sorry at all. "Traffic."
"Traffic," Tony repeated, dropping his feet from the table. "You possess a private jet, control half the city's infrastructure, and probably own a fleet of personal rocket cars. But... traffic."
"Gentlemen," Aryan said, placing his hand on the Red's lower back. "I'd like to introduce you to a very important member of my household. And a new observer for our sessions."
"This is Red. Red is... a companion. I created her a few years ago. After my grandfather passed and I found myself... somewhat isolated. She was a sophisticated AI designed to provide companionship and manage the estate. As Umbrella's capabilities advanced, so did hers. I recently adapted some of our bio engineering breakthroughs to give her a physical form."
He placed a possessive hand on Red's shoulder. "She's a Synthezoid. Bio organic tissue bonded with vibranium cellular structure. A truly unique creation."
"A unique creation," Tony whispered. "You downloaded your personal AI into a body. Is this like an android from those old comic books? Or is it more like that robot from the movie? The one that tried to kill everyone?"
"Synthezoid," Red corrected sharply. "I am not a weapon, Stark. I am a companion. And a masterpiece."
"A materialized AI," Namor murmured, looking her up and down. "A ghost given flesh."
"I got tired of being a ghost," Red said, turning to look at the Atlantean King. "And Aryan... well, he needed a different kind of companion. Someone who truly understood his... unique burdens. It was a mutually beneficial upgrade."
Chapter 253: Red Queen (7)
"It's incredible, Aryan," T'Challa said. "How is cognitive latency?"
"Zero," Red said. She snapped her fingers in front of T'Challa's face, a sharp sound. "I process faster than you blink, King of Wakanda. And I can taste pizza now. Can your vibranium suit do that?"
"Pizza?" T'Challa smiled, shaking his head. "No. It cannot."
"Then I win," Red declared, a triumphant glint in her eyes. She turned back to Aryan, her confidence momentarily faltering for a split second as she looked for his approval.
Aryan pulled out the chair next to his, usually reserved for Wanda. Wanda smiled and took the next seat over, ceding the spot with an affectionate squeeze to Red's shoulder.
"Sit," Aryan said.
Red sat. She crossed her legs, the red dress riding up slightly, revealing the sleek line of her calf. She placed her hands on the table, feeling the cool obsidian.
"Smooth," she whispered to herself. "Volcanic glass."
The Leader watched her carefully. "Does this change your... operational capacity?" he asked. "Are you still... connected to the Umbrella network?"
Aryan intervened smoothly, placing his hand gently on Red's arm. "Her primary consciousness has transferred to the bio matrix. She is fully autonomous now. Independent of the core network. Think of it as leaving the office for the first time."
"I am unplugged," Red lied, leaning back in her chair. She looked at The Leader, a mischievous sparkle in her blue eyes. "I am just a woman now, Chancellor. A very intelligent and a very capable woman who can now personally assess all publicly available information from a human perspective. My analytical skills remain… formidable."
She winked at him. "But don't worry. I'm on Aryan's side."
Tony sat back down, still staring at her. "So, to be clear. My rival built a self aware and stunningly beautiful AI companion. For lonely nights. And then gave her a body." He looked from Aryan to Red to Wanda to Sharon. He noted the relaxed shoulders, the shared looks. "And that's why you're late."
"Don't," Aryan warned, a genuine blush rising to his cheeks.
"I'm not saying anything!" Tony raised his hands innocently. "I'm just saying... efficiency. It's all about efficient resource allocation."
Red glared at Tony. "My efficiency was optimal, Stark. And for the record, Aryan is an excellent cook."
"Oh, the biryani!" Namor exclaimed, a rare smile touching his lips. "Yes, I recall. A delightful dish."
"Okay," Aryan slammed his hand on the table, cutting off the conversation before Red started describing flavor profiles again. "Meeting is in session. Let's get to it."
The meeting shifted gears, the casual banter replaced by the cold logistics of running a planet.
"Project Aegis," Tony started, pulling up a hologram. "Phase one satellite deployment is at 40%. Wakanda has delivered the harmonic emitters. We're looking at a full global mesh in eighteen months."
"Twelve," Red interrupted.
Tony looked at her. "Excuse me?"
"Twelve months," Red said, tapping her finger on the table. "You're calculating based on standard Stark Industries fabrication cycles. But if you route the raw material logistics through the automated foundries in Detroit, which are currently running at 65% capacity and use the new fusion welding algorithm I... someone uploaded to the server last week, you can shave six months off production."
Tony blinked. He looked at the hologram. He ran the numbers in his head. "She's right," he muttered, annoyed. "Damn it. She's right."
"Of course I'm right," Red sniffed. "And I am always right."
"Moving on," Aryan suppressed a smile. "Genesis Bees."
"Deployment is successful," T'Challa reported. "The hives in the Amazon are self replicating. Detoxification of the Rio Negro is up 15%. We are seeing indigenous flora returning in sectors that were barren."
"And the aesthetics?" Red asked. "Are they pretty?"
T'Challa looked at her, paused and smiled. "They are... iridescent. Like your dress."
Red beamed. "Good. Ugly bees are inefficient for public morale."
"Phantom Zone," The Leader said, his tone graver. "The prisoner count is stable. However, we are detecting minor psychological degradation in the Skrull subjects."
"Adjust the neural dampeners," Wanda suggested. "They're dreaming too much. Keep them in a deeper cycle."
"I'll handle it," Aryan said. He looked at Red. "We can adjust the parameters tonight."
"Tonight?" Red perked up. "Will there be takeout?"
"Focus, Red," Aryan whispered.
"I am focused," she hissed back. "I am multitasking. I am planning dinner and saving the world. It's called being a modern woman."
"Meeting adjourned," Aryan announced.
As the Council members stood up, the atmosphere relaxed again.
Tony walked by, shaking his head. He clapped Aryan on the shoulder. "You crazy son of a bitch. You actually did it."
"Jealous?" Aryan asked.
"Terrified," Tony corrected. "You have the internet sleeping in your bed. You can never win an argument again. She can just pull up the transcript."
"I have already archived his last three incorrect statements," Red interjected helpfully.
"See?" Tony pointed. "Good luck, pal. You're gonna need it."
T'Challa nodded to them. "It is good to see you happy, Aryan. A leader who is loved is a leader who fights harder."
"Thank you, T'Challa," Aryan said.
As the room cleared, leaving only the inner circle, Aryan turned to his trio.
Red was leaning against the table, kicking off her heels. "My feet are defective," she complained. "They hurt. I want to amputate them."
"That's just the shoes, Red," Sharon laughed, picking up the heels. "Here. You can go barefoot to the car."
Red sighed in relief, stepping onto the cool floor. "Oh, sweet structural support."
Wanda wrapped her arm around Aryan's waist. "Ready to go home?"
"Yeah," Aryan said, looking at them.
Red, barefoot, holding her heels in one hand, walked over and grabbed Aryan's free hand. Sharon took the other side.
"Home," Red repeated, testing the word again. "Home is where the pizza is. And the big bed."
"We really need that bigger bed," Aryan muttered as they walked toward the elevator.
"I already ordered it," Red said casually. "And I hacked the delivery schedule. It arrives in twenty minutes."
Aryan looked at her. "You hacked the furniture delivery?"
"I optimized the logistics," she corrected, pressing the elevator button with her nose because her hands were full. "I told you, Aryan. I'm efficient."
Chapter 254: Captain Marvel (1)
For seventy two hours, Nick Fury had sat in the recycled air of the Newark bunker, staring at the archaic pager on the metal table. The device was a relic of a bygone era, a piece of plastic and circuitry that looked like it belonged in a museum alongside cassette tapes and dial up modems. But the light pulsing from its small LCD screen was rhythmic.
Then, the light stopped blinking. It turned solid gold.
Above ground, the world changed.
It started as a blip on the Federation's orbital sensory array… a violent displacement of cosmic radiation entering the upper atmosphere above the North American seaboard. It was a singular point of energy, moving at velocities that made the thermal shielding of re entry irrelevant.
Inside the bunker, the ground shook. A sharp thud that knocked dust from the exposed ceiling pipes.
"Seismic event," Maria Hill announced, her voice tight, hands flying across her tactile keyboard. "Three miles due east. Impact velocity suggests... Mach 20 deceleration in under three seconds."
"It's not a missile," Clint Barton said, stepping away from the weapons rack, his bow in hand, though he looked at it with a grim expression that suggested he knew it was useless. "Missiles don't slow down."
"She's here," Fury whispered. He stood up, his leather coat groaning with the movement. He looked at the ceiling, as if his single eye could pierce through thirty feet of concrete and soil.
"Is she..." Natasha Romanoff hesitated, checking the load in her Glock, a habit born of a lifetime of paranoia. "Is she friendly? Director, you said she was an ally. But fifteen years is a long time."
"She's a soldier," Fury said, walking toward the heavy blast doors of the main entrance. "And soldiers change when the war goes on too long."
The sensors on the perimeter flared red.
HEAT SIGNATURE DETECTED. TEMPERATURE: 4000 KELVIN.
APPROACH VECTOR: DIRECT.
"She's burning through the tunnels," Hill said, her eyes widening as she watched the thermal feeds white out. "She's making her own entrance."
The heavy steel blast door at the far end of the bunker began to glow.
It started as a dull cherry red in the center. Then, it brightened to orange, then a blinding white. The metal liquefied, running down like wax, dripping onto the concrete floor with a hiss that filled the room with the acrid smell of molten steel and ozone.
The heat in the bunker spiked instantly. Sweat broke out on Clint's forehead.
Through the hole in the door, a figure stepped through the curtain of dripping metal.
She floated, her boots hovering an inch above the slag. She was encased in an aura of golden fire, a binary energy that crackled and snapped, illuminating the dark corners of the safehouse with the brightness of a captive star. Her hair stood up in the energy field, glowing like a filament.
The energy faded, retracting into her skin. Her boots touched the concrete.
Carol Danvers looked around the room.
She hadn't aged a day since 1995. Her suit was different… the colors were the same red, blue and gold, but the material was scuffed by cosmic dust and laser fire.
She looked at the team with a detached curiosity, like a wolf observing a pack of stray dogs. Then, her gaze landed on Fury.
She took in the eyepatch. The gray in his beard. The weariness in his posture.
"You look terrible, Nicholas," she said. Her voice carried a resonance that seemed to vibrate in their chests.
"You look like a neon sign," Fury replied, his voice steady, though his heart was hammering against his ribs.
She walked past the stunned agents, ignoring the weapons they still half raised. She stopped in front of Fury. "You pressed the button. That means the emergency is planetary. Where's the fire?"
"The fire is out," Fury said. "You missed it."
Carol frowned, a micro expression that lowered the temperature in the room by ten degrees. "I flew across three galaxies in forty eight hours. Are you telling me I burned a jump point for a false alarm?"
"I'm telling you the world ended," Fury said, turning and walking back to the console. "And then it started again. And we weren't invited."
[Debrief]
The tension in the room was a physical thing. Carol Danvers stood in the center of the command center, radiating a low level hum of energy that messed with the localized electronics. The screens flickered every time she moved.
Natasha Romanoff watched her from the shadows. She had read the old SHIELD files… the "Avenger Initiative" drafts that never went anywhere. She knew the specs. Photon blasts. Flight. Durability. But reading it and seeing a woman who could use a blast door as a bead curtain were two different things.
"Sit down," Fury said, gesturing to the metal table.
Carol remained standing. "I prefer to stand. Space travel cramps the legs." She looked at Coulson. Her eyes softened slightly. "Phil. You look... exactly the same."
"Good moisturizer," Coulson managed a tight smile. "Welcome back to Earth, Captain."
"So," Carol crossed her arms, the movement causing the leather of her suit to creak. "Talk. Why are you hiding in a hole in New Jersey? Where is SHIELD? Where is Peggy?"
"Peggy is dead," Fury said bluntly. "She died a few weeks ago. Natural causes. Old age."
Carol flinched. It was a small reaction, but it was there. "I... I should have visited."
"SHIELD is dead too," Fury continued. "But that wasn't natural causes. That was a bullet to the head. We put it there."
He tapped a key on the console. The main screen lit up, displaying the logo of the Earth Federation.
"While you were gone, Carol, things got complicated. We found out SHIELD was compromised. Hydra. They had been growing inside us like cancer since the war. We had to burn it down."
"Hydra," Carol scoffed. "Red Skull's fanatics? I thought we stomped them out in the 40s."
"We missed a spot," Fury said dryly. "We missed a lot of spots. But that's old news. Hydra is gone. SHIELD is gone. The world governments? They're gone too."
Carol stared at the screen. "Gone? Who is running the planet?"
"The Earth Federation," Fury said. "A unified planetary government. One currency. One military. One law."
He pulled up an image of The Chancellor Deven Ray addressing the United Nations assembly, his face projected on massive screens in Times Square, Tokyo and London.
"They dissolved the borders," Fury explained. "They replaced the dollar with 'Origin'. They replaced the armies with the EDF… Earth Defense Forces. And they did it all without a war. They did it with healthcare, free internet and a smile."
Chapter 255: Captain Marvel (2)
"That sounds... good," Carol said, confused. "Unified planets are usually Tier I civilizations. It means you evolved."
"It means we were organized," Fury corrected. "This is architecture, Carol. Someone built this world while we were sleeping."
He swiped the screen, bringing up the image of the Illuminati Council. Six figures seated around the obsidian table in the Sentinel Complex (Publicly available image).
"The Illuminati," Fury introduced them. "The new gods of Earth."
He pointed to Tony Stark. "Tony Stark. Iron Man. Engineering genius. He powers the planet."
He pointed to T'Challa. "King T'Challa of Wakanda. You remember Wakanda?"
"The sheep farmers?" Carol asked.
"The most technologically advanced nation on Earth," Fury corrected. "They were hiding in plain sight. They have tech that makes SHIELD engineering look like stone tools. They came out of the shadows to join the Federation."
Carol's eyebrows shot up. "Impressive."
"And him," Fury pointed to Namor. "King Namor of Talokan. An underwater empire. We didn't even know they existed until a few months ago. They control the oceans."
"And her," Fury pointed to Wanda Maximoff. "The Scarlet Witch. She... I don't even have a classification for her. She rewrites reality."
"And him," Fury landed on the final image. A handsome man in a suit, looking calm. "Aryan Spencer. The CEO of Umbrella Corp. The richest man in history. The Architect."
"He looks like a civilian," Carol noted.
"He's the most dangerous one," Natasha spoke up from the corner. "He controls the information. He controls the money. He controls the narrative. Everyone loves him. He's a philanthropist."
"So," Carol summarized, looking at the screen. "Earth grew up. You have a world government, you have powerful protectors and you have peace. Why did you call me, Fury? It sounds like you're out of a job, not in danger."
Fury leaned forward, his single eye locking onto hers.
"I called you because of what they found," Fury said. "And because of what you left behind."
He keyed a new command. The screen changed. It showed the footage from the broadcast… the rows of unconscious green bodies in the Russian nuclear plant.
Carol went still. The energy aura flared around her fists for a microsecond, glowing hot, before she clamped it down.
"Skrulls," she whispered.
"One million of them," Fury said, his voice hard. "Living here. On Earth. For fifteen years."
Carol turned to him, her eyes wide. "A million? That's... that's impossible. Talos said there were only a few hundred left in the sector. He said the scattered remnants were dying."
"Talos lied," Fury said. "Or he lost control. Or maybe he was playing the long game just like the rest of them."
He stood up and walked around the table, closing the distance between them. "They were infiltrators, Carol. They replaced the British Prime Minister. They replaced the head of NATO. They replaced deputy at the CIA. They were dismantling us from the inside."
"Why?" Carol asked, her voice cracking slightly. "Why would they do that? We were helping them."
"Were we?" Fury asked. "You left in '95. You said you were going to find them a home. A safe planet where the Kree couldn't reach them. You said you'd be back."
"I was busy!" Carol snapped, the defensive flare rising instantly. "Do you have any idea what's happening out there? The Kree Empire didn't just stop because I blew up a few ships. The Accusers were slaughtering systems. I had to stop a genocide on Torfa. I had to break the blockade on Torfa. There are thousands of planets, Fury. Earth isn't the center of the universe."
"It is to me!" Fury roared back. "And it should have been to you! You made a promise! You told those people you would find them a home! And instead, you left them here, rotting in abandoned nuclear plants, eating dog food and hiding in human skins for decades!"
"I sent reports!" Carol argued. "I sent coordinates for potential habitable zones!"
"To who?" Fury demanded. "To Talos? Because I never saw them. And obviously, they didn't take the offer. Maybe they got tired of waiting. Maybe they realized that a species that can shapeshift doesn't need to find a home… they can just take one."
Carol looked away, her jaw clenched. The guilt was radiating off her in waves, hotter than her photon blasts.
"They broadcasted it," Fury said, twisting the knife. "The Leader. He went on global television and told the entire human race that we were invaded. And he told them why."
He played the clip.
...a broken promise made in 1995 by a warrior who abandoned her duty...
Carol watched the screen, her face pale. "They blamed me."
"They told the truth," Fury said mercilessly. "You left a loaded gun on the table, Carol. And for fifteen years, we didn't even know it was there. Until the Illuminati picked it up and unloaded it."
"The Illuminati," Carol repeated. "They fought them? A million Skrulls?"
"They didn't fight them," Hill interjected, stepping into the light. "It was a surgical strike. They used a gas that knocked them out instantly. They captured the entire invasion force in six hours."
Carol looked at Hill, assessing her. "Six hours? That's... military precision that shouldn't exist on Earth."
"It exists now," Hill said. "The EDF. Earth Defense Forces. The Illuminati council and the Earth Federation funded their equipment and logistics. Wakanda provided specialized training. They moved like ghosts."
"And the Skrulls?" Carol asked. "Where are they? Did they... execute them?"
"No," Fury said. "That's the part that scares me. They didn't kill them. They put them in a hole."
He pulled up the schematic of the Phantom Project.
"The Phantom Project," Fury said. "Located in the Marianas Trench. A maximum security containment facility built under eight tons of pressure."
Carol studied the schematic. "Underwater? For Skrulls? That's smart. High pressure limits their shapeshifting abilities. It forces them to maintain density."
"It's a vault," Fury said. "It's a molecular transport grid. And the 'Six Key Protocol.' It takes all six of those Council members to open it. It's the most secure box in the universe."
"And they put a million people inside?" Carol asked skeptically. "That requires massive life support."
"They're in stasis," Fury deduced. "Or something close to it. The world thinks it's a prison. I think it's a cold storage locker. They put the problem on ice."