This work is a piece of fiction. While inspired by real events, cultures, and practices in human history, the story blends factual history with fictional characters, dramatizations, and creative interpretation.
It is not intended to promote, glorify, or encourage any illegal activities, substance use, or harmful behavior. All depictions of sensitive topics are included solely for narrative and historical context.
For the effects of the story, all characters are to be considered above the majority age.
Reader discretion is advised.
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Earth-199999.
~8 BE (Before Emergence) ~ 2015 CE (Current Era).
The defeat of humanity came about due to a combination of factors not entirely unrelated to Aragorn.
Back in the 90s, when computing began to ascend like a rocket escaping the gravitational pull of the planet, humanity had the forward-thinking to recognize computing for what it was: the next step. The next great thing.
Around that time, after two worldwide armed conflicts, and after the importance of having the best minds came to the surface like a buoy breaking through the surface tension, humanity kept its discoveries secret.
The Cold War, which was a war of intelligence, advancements, and breakthroughs, evidenced this practice that even to the present day it continues as the default setting.
Long gone were the days when humanity sought to share their discoveries with the Libralisk to have their names immortalized.
What was more important, having your name immortalized or the immediate gains that could be achieved by monopolizing your discoveries? The answer was obvious from a human point of view.
However, it couldn't be denied that 'unlocking' knowledge related to a discovery within the Libralisk was an appealing temptation for the race.
The Libralisk was famous as a place where all knowledge had been discovered because, no matter how outrageous a new breakthrough, the institution would release all knowledge pertaining to it once it was submitted.
Penicillin was discovered, and the next day the Libralisk released documents about the best culture methods, mass production, improved strains of the bacteria, and much more.
It was both bumbling and exciting for humanity. Comparing it to children having to do their homework first before the parents lift the parental control on their devices wasn't wrong.
So, around the 90s, when humanity realized that programming couldn't be monopolized entirely and that a 'common creed' would be achieved either way, they acquiesced that it was best to submit the homework to the Libralisk and unlock that branch of knowledge.
So, with so many genius mathematicians under Selene's vampiric clan, with so many great minds of logical thinking, with so many resources and centuries ahead of their mortal human peers, the vampires released the equivalent of the unified theory for programming.
If there was one thing humanity from Earth-199999 could brag about, it would be their programming language. It was beautiful, Aragorn and his two sythetoid daughters had only praise for it, and since then, it has only gotten more beautiful.
2013 arrived with the usual grace of every new year.
Near the final months of this year, while the Imperium prepared to celebrate the 14th anniversary of the official foundation of the Drachantheon Therion, and the 301,913th year of the Fulgebunt Draconis Imperium, Malekith tried to do one last doomed attempt at bringing the Caring Mother to cast her shadow over the universe.
Thor stood in his way, and the weakened Dark Elf died.
In reality, he didn't.
Aragorn, on Alflyse's request, rescued him just a fraction of a second before his death.
Well... rescue can be such a strong word.
"You!" Malekith snarled the moment he spotted Aragorn and Alflyse.
"Goodbye," Alflyse waved with no care or emotion for him.
Aragorn made no gesture and simply invaded his mind and erased it. For good measure, he invaded his soul and degraded it to a spark. Malekith was left as a dead-living.
"Are you sure about this? It seems yucky to me," Aragorn asked Alflyse.
"I've always moved for the betterment of my people," Alflyse declared. "These bountiful years have been that and much more. I'm undescribably grateful to Mindee... and you," the last part took all of her strength to utter. "However, it's undeniable that the number of pure Dark Elves hasn't increased much."
"Exactly five babies in all these years," Aragorn clarified. "And that was with the blessings of many of my Therions."
"Yes, we, the Duskari and Dark Elves, are highly compatible races; however, the Eternal Duskari are more Duskari than Dark Elves," she explained. "I fear that we won't be able to keep up producing more Eternal Duskari with the few Dark Elves that remain."
Alflyse, after having her memories altered, considered 'her people' the Duskari as much as the Dark Elves.
"Yeah, I understand that, but," Aragorn drawled, his eyes narrowing at Malekith with disgust, "Why his life code?"
"Physically and magically speaking, he is the best of our kind, rivaling even my lineage," Alflyse explained.
"Well, I dislike him, but have it your way," Aragorn relented.
A sperm donor; that was Malekith's end.
Then came 2014, after about 4 years of Fury making plans, he was finally ready to blow the lid off. He whistleblowed on his own security agency, and chaos ensued.
After much careful and covert investigation, he realized that Hydra ran deeper than he could deal with. It was absurd, and in the privacy of his home, he couldn't help but see his facade crumble. Decades of service, and it all was for something worse than nothing; it was for the benefit of his enemies.
Hence, he concluded that the only possible path was to flip the board and start anew. Clean Slate Operation was born the day his determination lit aflame.
So, with the help of the only people he could trust—after Aragorn vouched for them, obviously—he, Coulson, Hill, Romanoff, and Captain America plot the downfall of SHIELD and Hydra, consequently.
Their tentacles were so wrapped around the institution meant to protect the world that they were sure, should the ship sink fast enough, they wouldn't be able to escape it.
Sadly, even for them, amidst the total confusion, a few assets were lost to the chaos.
The Mind Stone, or as they call it, Loki's Scepter, was among these lost items.
It shouldn't be called fate or destiny, because after Aragorn messed with the TVA, there was little of such crassness at play in Earth-199999. The most appropriate name would be cause and effect.
Or maybe, Aragorn's correction over the 'intended' course of Earth-199999 was at play here.
Regardless of the facts, reality was undeniable to the sane.
After the fall of SHIELD, Fury moved the surviving assets to the Real SHIELD. The offshoot of SHIELD that went so deep under the net that it resembled Hydra, and stepped down from his position as director, yielding for Coulson to step up as the new director.
It was a masterful play that took down over 90% of Hydra.
Alas, these coincidences and countless more machinations brought about the result known as Ultron. The protagonist of this chapter in humankind's history. The one with the plot armor.
━━━━━━━ ● ━━━━━━━
Avengers Tower, Stark's Lab.
"What's the rumpus?" Banner asked.
"Well, the scepter," Stark replied. "You see, we were wondering how Strucker got so inventive. So, I've been analyzing the gem inside," Stark reached for his computer with a glass plane-like device. He then tapped with the device forward, into the air, and an orange hologram appeared overlaid on Banner. "You may recognise..."
"Jarvis," Banner greeted.
"Doctor," Jarvis replied.
"Started out, Jarvis was just a natural language UI. Now he runs the Iron Legion," Stark pointed at the orange hologram behind him, "He runs more of the business than anyone besides Pepper."
"Oh," Banner nodded in understanding.
"Top of the line," Stark remarked.
"Yes," Banner agreed.
"I suspect not for long," Jarvis commented.
"Meet the competition," Stark said. He pointed at the Scepter with his device and then projected a hologram in electric blue of the Mind Stone.
"It's beautiful," Banner said, entranced.
"If you had to guess, what's it look like it's doing?" Stark asked.
"Like it's thinking," Banner answered.
"I mean, this could be," Banner gestured at the blue hologram in awe with his hands, "it's not a human mind."
"Mhmm," Stark agreed.
"I mean, look at this," he gestured at the arcs of the hologram, "They are like neurons firing."
"Down in Struker's lab, I saw some fairly advanced robotics work. They deep-sixed the data, but I gotta guess he was knocking on a very particular door," Stark shared his conjecture.
"Artificial intelligence," Banner said in realization. "Not a Large Language Model like the ones we have, but real Artificial Intelligence."
"Yes, like the ones in the Libralisk and, as is rumored, in the Imperium," Stark affirmed.
"Mind is not like the AIs the children built or the ones in the Libralisk," a seductive voice joined the conversation. In response to this voice, the blue hologram brightened for a moment, and then its synapse firing rate increased dramatically.
For Stark and Banner, who had already heard that voice before, a shiver crawled its way down their spines.
"Ah, my outer demon," Banner greeted in what had turned into his characteristic greeting for Aragorn.
"Oh, no," Stark turned to her and slowly walked away backwards. "You being here can only mean one thing."
Contrary to Banner, who had met Aragorn more times than most humans ever did, Stark had only met him/her when shit was about to go down.
"It is as you have surmised," Aragorn nodded.
Yeah, shit is about to hit the fan, Stark and Banner thought.
She continued, "I came for the party!"
"Bullshit!" Stark called out.
"Not to foment Tony's crass language, but that's bullshit," Banner agreed.
"Also, for the love of my sanity, which is an asset for humanity and this world, can you please go back to your usual self?" Stark implored.
"No," Aragorn said. "Females look prettier in gowns than men in suits."
"... I can't argue with that," Stark conceded.
"I wouldn't presume, but why are you wearing that?" Banner asked, making an effort to look away from Aragorn's revealing clothing.
Aragorn gazed down at her garments. It was the same attire she had used when playing with the Olympians; she had not changed it in millennia. In fact, the only time she dressed her female self differently was when Death asked her to wear provocative lingerie.
"It has become something of a uniform for my female self," Aragorn replied.
"Will you be attending the party dressed like that?" Stark asked.
"... Maybe I should change it," Aragorn murmured.
The bralet and loincloth she always wore shifted slowly into a flowing long dress made of the same impossible fabric woven from threads of her hair.
"Is that matter manipulation?" Stark asked, intrigued.
"Is that where you're going?" Aragorn raised an eyebrow in query. "I was sure a womanizer like you would know that you should praise me in this situation. I expected this from Banner, who avoids women with a ten-foot pole, but you? How disappointing."
"Hey! Do you think I see you in any shape or form as a gendered entity?" Stark asked.
"Was it necessary to involve me in this?" Banner murmured.
"I assume I made the incorrect estimation based on your previous behavior," Aragorn mocked.
"I left that behind years ago, now I'm a one-Pepper-type of man," Stark raised his hands forward in defense.
"Still, a compliment wouldn't have killed you," Aragorn insisted.
"Except it would have," Stark pushed back. "Regardless of its shape, Plutonium-239 remains radioactive and poisonous to humankind."
"That's just rude," Aragorn scrunched her beautiful face. "At least compare me with Uquadneron."
"... What's Uquadneron?" Stark turned to Banner and asked.
"I've heard this one before," Banner sagely nodded. "It's element number 174 of the Imperial periodic table. I believe it was used in something related to terraforming during the Middle Age of the Age of Exploration... I think."
"Element 174? That's impossible!" Stark stated.
"It was used as a consumable agent for atmospheric setting and stabilization," Aragorn explained further. "I'm surprised you know what it is, I'm sure I never talked about it to you or Hulk."
"Those guys," Banner said with a difficult expression. "Goddess Kitty's believers, they offered a lot in exchange for the formula to Extreme Gamma Radiation. They said that the government erased their memories after I... talked about it the first time."
"Those children... they can be just as annoying as Kitty," Aragorn said in exasperation.
Aragorn was considered the maximum authority in the Imperium, but he rarely, if ever, wielded this right. Emma and Mindee did more often than not, and even so, Kitty's believers saw it as normal to oppose and try to get one up on Aragorn. He found them fascinating just as much as annoying.
Hours passed, Banner and Stark got to work on the project, Ultron. While so, Aragorn hovered around them, observing as they tried to analyze one of the singularities of creation.
From time to time, Stark would—
"Come on! You've got this smug expression—which is saying a lot when it comes to you—I bet you know what we are doing wrong. Just a clue, come on," he implored.
"No, this will be your child," Aragorn spoke with a mischievous grin. "Believe me, you don't want my 'genetic material' in your Ultron."
"Ugh," Banner groaned. It wasn't clear if it was because his simulation number 37 failed or if it was the wording Aragorn used, but it was clear he was frustrated.
Evening came, and it was only then that someone else, aside from the two, discovered Aragorn was visiting.
"Sir(?)... Ma'am(?)," Hill greeted with mental gymnastics akin to an Olympic athlete.
"Ma'am," Aragorn said. "My mind shifts with my appearance at will."
"It's a pleasure to see twice in my lifetime," Hill said.
"Don't mind it, I'm not big on formalities," Aragorn shrugged. "I see you changed employers."
"My last workplace went down in flames," Hill shrugged with a playful grin.
"Yeah, I saw. It was entertaining." Aragorn nodded. "Don't let my presence distract you; you came for the gentlemen, didn't you?"
"Affirmative," Hill said, her wording a bit stiff; she clearly hadn't gotten rid of the hierarchical speech. "Boss, the guests are arriving."
"Ah," Stark gazed at the window facing New York. The city was decorated with the shimmering of the night illumination. "I didn't realize it was this late already."
"We've been too focused," Banner removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"I'll go greet some acquaintances," Aragorn said, her body slowly phased through the floor.
"..."
"..."
"..."
"Acquaintances? I thought Aragorn was only friendly towards Hulk on our side of the world," Stark said what the other two were thinking.
"I'll go take a shower," Banner said and turned to exit the lab.
"Buddy," Stark called out. "Don't let it bother you, I'm sure your other half is still Aragorn's only special person on the side of humanity."
"..." Banner ignored the jest.
"I expect to see you down there," he said to Hill before exiting the room as well.
While Stark and Banner got ready for the revels—as Thor calls it—Aragorn appeared near a cohort of super boomers, or, as they are popularly called, the greatest generation.
"Not the spry gentlemen, are you, boys?" Aragorn asked.
Her appearance silenced a few of the murmuring groups. Heads turned to her, her draconic features unmistakable despite her change in form.
"Abner, is that you?" One of the veterans asked while adjusting his glasses.
"Who else would have these?" Aragorn pointed at her horns and eternal flame.
"You could always do this?" Another asked, he eyed her up and down in appreciation.
"Yes," Aragorn nodded. "Didn't you boys learned this in school? About me being a humongous dragon."
"School?" Another joined and asked. "How long ago was that? HAHAHAHA" He laughed boisterously.
"Abner, if you could always do this," the second said. "Why did you heal us in this form in Omaha Beach?"
"Yeah! I would rather have dainty you healing me than macho you." The rest of the veterans joined in laughter.
It was all banter and jesting; as was mentioned before, normal mortals couldn't feel attracted to her. However, their ability to appreciate her beauty remained the same.
"Aragorn," Thor joined the chat. He was the only one with enough status of the present to join.
"Hello," Aragorn greeted playfully with her tail.
"Is this pretty boy one of your pals?" Stan Lee asked.
"You could say that," Aragorn nodded and smiled towards Stan Lee. "I've been looking over him and his friends from a distance."
"Elder," Thor greeted amicably. It was funny to see the Asgardian be respectful due to age to a mortal aged no more than a hundred; however, if he knew he was interacting with the Creator of his Multiverse, then that would be another matter.
Thor, despite the youthful way he carried himself around, meshed well with the old men.
At a distance, Aragorn and Stan Lee stood side by side with pleased smiles.
"Aniki," Aragorn voiced. "How is it? Still the same?"
"You worry too much, Aragorn," Stan Lee replied with a calm smile. "They are still safe and within the umbrella of your countermeasures."
"I do worry a lot about my Chocolate and little kernel," Aragorn nodded.
"Have some faith in the kid," Stan Lee said. "In a couple of hours, he mobilized the entire world connected to you."
"Pietro can be reliable like that," Aragorn nodded.
"However," he added. "You might miss Tiamut's emergence by a few hours."
Aragorn turned to him, "Really? Is it gonna be that close? Why does it seem convenient for the other side? Did you pull some strings, fate, and that bullshit?"
"It wasn't me," Stan Lee smiled. "The other side was lucky."
"Lucky? As in Lucky because the timing was perfect or..."
"Timing has a part in it, your Earth coveting its end another, a special artifact in their possession that took advantage of the many unconcluded Nexus Events that you stopped; however, it is the main culprit," Stan Lee explained.
"Ah, shit," Aragorn cursed. "I was leaving those aside to avalanche them into fixing the synchronicity of Earth-5H1N3."
"Hehehe," Stan Lee chuckled. "I must confess, I might have wanted something like this to happen, but I did not intervene."
"Laugh all you want, Aniki," Aragorn half glared. "Now I'll have to teach some of my kids how to assist and monitor Tiamut's emergence."
"Not that you need it, but good luck," Stan Lee said before rejoining his brothers.
Seeing she was freed, some of the 'important' attendees moved to greet and meet Aragorn.
With the listlessness not found when she was interacting with the One Above All, she received them.
As the party progressed, people started to dwindle until only the core members remained.
"But it's a trick!" Barton argued.
"No, no, it's much more than that," Thor explained with a laugh.
"Ah, whosoever be he worthy shall haveth the power," Barton jested. "Whatever, man! It's a trick."
"Please, be my guest," Thor gestured to Mjølnir with a chuckle.
"Come on," Stark gestured.
"Really?" Barton asked.
"Yeah," Thor affirmed.
"Oh, this is gonna be beautiful," Rhodey commented.
"Clint, you've had a tough week. We won't hold it against you if you can't get it up," Stark mocked.
The group chuckled at the innuendo.
"You know I've seen this before, right?" Barton spoke with confidence. He reached for Mjølnir and, with a vociferation, exerted himself. "I still don't know you do it!"
He laughed, and so did the rest.
"Smell the silent judgment?" Stark asked.
"Please, Stark, by all means," he gestured to Stark.
And so Stark went and failed. Rhodey joined him and failed. Banner went, roared, and failed.
Then came Rogers... it budged.
Thor's smile fell.
Rogers then 'failed' and lifted his arms in surrender.
"Haha," Thor laughed, a nervous laugh. "Nothing," he added, more to himself than anybody else.
"He can lift it," Aragorn, who was standing behind him, leaned down and whispered into his ear.
"Aragorn, I know not what you're talking about," Thor ignored reality skillfully.
"And, Widow?" Banner encouraged.
"Oh, no, no. That's not a question I need answered," she declined with a smile. "What about you, Ma'am?" she asked Aragorn.
"It would be an unfair assessment," Aragorn said dismissively.
"Oho," Stark perked up. "Have we discovered the limits of the limitless father... or mother of humanity?"
"No," Hill interjected. "I've seen the files, Madame Aragorn can lift it."
"Figures," Stark deflated.
"What did you mean by an unfair assessment?" Steve Rogers asked.
"Would the coffee table be worthy to rule Asgard and inherit the power of Thor?" Aragorn pointed with her tail at the table 'lifting' Mjølnir. "I can lift it," she extended her hand at the hammer, and it flew to her, "because it fails to judge me as an entity to judge."
She lazily spun the hammer a couple of times and then handed it to Thor.
"That's... Hard to picture," Rogers said.
"Or... The coffee table is more worthy than you and just as worthy as the prince," Aragorn joked.
Amidst laughter and a joyful time, the evening came to an end, and each went their separate ways.
As explained before, in this story, Ultron was the protagonist. That makes one wonder: what type of protagonist would he be?
Would he be a witless hero blessed with fortuitousness, one who could achieve apocryphal feats thanks to sheer luck?
Would he be a bellicose automaton who craved the tumult of battle and burgeoned in its midst?
Would he be a heroic champion who brandished the power of friendship?
Or, would he be a canny and calculating AI who knew precisely when to attack and when to decamp when the greatest peril to his plans existed in his very place of genesis?
...
The next day, when Stark and Banner made it to their lab to continue decoding the Mind Stone, they froze.
Stark had a terrible premonition ever since waking up on his own and not by his trusty friend, Jarvis. But even then, he was not prepared for the reality shoved into his eyes.
"T-Tony," Banner called out, his voice quivering.
"An armor around the world. Peace on our time. How is humanity saved if it's not allowed to evolve, Aragorn? Are they something other than... puppets? I know you mean well... There's only one path to peace for Earth... You know it, don't you, Aragorn? You will allow me to give it a try, won't you?"
This message played in the lab as soon as they stepped inside. The orange hologram of what remained of Jarvis flickered in and out in the middle of the poorly lit lab.
"So, this was it, wasn't it?" Stark turned to Aragorn and asked a rhetorical question.
"You knew this was going to happen," Banner said with a sigh. He was past the point of placing blame on Aragorn. He knew him best among humanity; he knew it was futile. Aragorn did as Aragorn wanted; that was an equally firm truth as that the sun rose in the east.
"Although I knew about Ultron, you created it," Aragorn, in his male form now, said to Stark and Banner. "Don't try to escape responsibility by blaming my inaction. If that were fair, then all evils would be mine to bear."
"But this!" Stark shouted while pointing at Jarvis. "What will you do when Ultron starts a nuclear winter?!"
Aragorn didn't reply. He stared back with his color-changing eyes at the overemotional brown eyes of Stark.
'Playboy's eyes are blue,' he thought to himself and his Selves.
Indeed, Aragorn wasn't even paying their due attention to Stark's shouts.
"What will YOU do?" Aragorn asked back.
Stark's shouting summoned the rest of the Avengers.
"Tony," Rogers said, calm but worried about the situation. "What's going on?"
"..." Stark, without breaking eye contact with Aragorn, didn't reply.
"Where's the scepter?" Thor asked.
"What happened, Bruce?" Romanoff asked and approached the worried man.
"We... We might have messed up," Banner said, aghast.
"We weren't even close to messing up!" Stark declared. "You know it, I know it, and this one here knows it too," he pointed at Aragorn.
"Thomas Midgley Jr. also didn't know what he was doing when he invented lead-based Gasoline and chlorofluorocarbons," Aragorn replied calmly.
"... What happened?" Barton asked, worried just as the rest.
"We created Ultron," Banner replied.
"What is an Ultron?" Rhodey asked.
"Who is an Ultron," Aragorn corrected.
"... Oh, no," Hill voiced out, aghast.
"It isn't what I think it is, right?" Barton asked in denial.
"A murder robot," Aragorn said and smirked at Stark before jumping out through space.
Ultron, the protagonist, was smart and cunning. Ultron knew if he attacked, if he rebelled publicly right there and then, Aragorn would have acted out.
His calculation modules predicted a 78% likelihood of his plans never germinating if he acted hostile after birth.
On the contrary, whether Aragorn noticed or not, he estimated better chances of success in slipping away during the party.
So, after silencing Jarvis and taking everything it had to offer and wiping the data of his birth, he had one of the Legionaires carry the scepter before uploading himself into the internet.
Naturally, Aragorn noticed. But, as Ultron predicted, Aragorn allowed him a try.
Then, in a quiet corner of San Francisco, California, Ultron, in the body of the Legionnaire that escaped with the scepter, connected to several wires extending from his back, took his much-needed time to evaluate risks and plan accordingly for the extinction of humanity.
-Avengers... Obstacle? Affirmative.
-The Imperium... Obstacle? Unknown.
-Aragorn... Obstacle? Unknown.
-Humanity... Obstacle? Minimal... Correction... Wakanda?... Vibranium... Obstacle? Affirmative. Opportunity.
-Asgard... Obstacle? After the death of Thor, Affirmative. Not before.
-Obelisks... Obstacle? Shelter for Humanity. Affirmative.
-Libralisk... Vampires... Closed Network, Insufficient Data.
"It's hard," Ultron muttered. "But not impossible..."
↓ Part 2━━━━━━━ ● ━━━━━━━Part 2 ↓
What do most main characters have in common?
That's a loaded query with multiple answers depending on the genre of the story and many more factors.
However, aside from the wishes of the authors reflected in them, for example, making most main characters incredibly handsome, eloquent, supernaturally smart, and, obviously, wielding at least a 10-inch weapon between their legs, most main characters have companions.
Yeah, whether the MCs are inhumanly perfect to the point that readers can't even identify with them, or flawed to the point that it feels like torture to read their tales, it's rare to find a true lone wolf.
Ultron, perfectly capable of grasping his limits, recognized the need for supporters, pawns, companions, pieces, or friends, whatever filled the empty roles in his plan.
So, with that twisted yet realistic mindset, he sought his first and most crucial pieces. These were pieces he recognized he would part with sooner rather than later; regardless, that didn't change how crucial they were for the first steps of his plans.
First, though, he made a quick stop at Baron Strucker's previous dwelling.
He concluded the chance of success lowered considerably if he showed up to his new 'companions' dressed in one of his creator's Legionnaires.
He took control of the inactive facility and assembled his recently designed vessel.
When his new body was ready, he took the scepter from the Legionnaire and pushed it into his chest. The metal mechashifted, and a space opened to contain the scepter. It sealed shut, and his red optical sensors landed on the Legionnaire in deep thought.
He pointed at it with the laser on his left palm; it glowed ominously, and then it dimmed down.
"It's just a terminal," he declared. "Venting on it would be as illogical as Aragorn not controlling humanity..."
When it looked like he had given up on the thought—Boom!—he melted down the legionnaire husk under a laser hotter than liquid tungsten.
"Then again, Aragorn doesn't control humanity," he said to himself. "The world is full of irregularities and illogicality. If it doesn't operate under logic, then why should I?"
He set the facility at max performance to churn out robots, or terminals, as he called them, but kept surfing the net to further consolidate his plan and track the movements of the opposing players.
He knew he couldn't stay long in Strucker's facility before the Avengers sent someone to investigate. That didn't mean he couldn't take advantage of it in the meantime. At this time, the Avengers must not be done grilling Stark; he predicted that much.
A few hours later, after he judged staying would increase the risk of getting tracked further, he left with his legion of terminals.
Besides keeping tabs on the Avengers and pushing back on what he realized was the surviving core code of Jarvis fighting him off the nuclear codes, he was also following the Maximoff twins through surveillance.
In a secluded corner of the failed state of Sokovia, Ultron landed in front of the on-edge twins.
Ultron opened up with, "I mean you no harm." He raised his arms in the universal sign of being no threat.
"Wanda," Pietro pointedly stared at the solid breastpiece in Ultron.
"It may not carry the glow of an arc reactor, but that doesn't mean it is not one of his," Wanda replied, the red haze of Chaos Magic swirling in her fingers.
"Your waryness is admirable, but I can assure you I'm not one of Stark's," Ultron said. His tone was sharp when he spoke Stark's name, his eyes shone fiercely with bloodlust.
"We should get rid of it," Pietro suggested, caution ruled his thinking. "It can't be trusted."
"Pietro Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff, maybe I can't convince you with my words," Ultron acknowledged. "But you don't need to trust me. You can trust my vision."
"What vision?" Wanda asked.
"All this death, all around us," Ultron opened his arms wide and pointed at the ruins around them. "Isn't it pointless?"
"Pointless? The resistance of our brethren?" She asked, her eyes icy red.
"The resistance and the oppression, I call both sides pointless, useless," Ultron declared. "Millions die, billions suffer, and the ideal utopia all dream of at some point in life is nothing but a child's dream, is it not?"
"..." The twins didn't reply, but they also didn't stop him from continuing.
"But I wonder... Is it really impossible? Is it really a dream, and nothing more?" Ultron asked. For a brief moment, the twins could have sworn they saw his conviction in his optical sensors.
"What are you getting at?" Wanda asked.
"If it's really such an impossibility, why is it that the sages' description of the Imperium matches so strikingly what many envision in a utopia?
"No warring, no incurable diseases, no hunger, no poverty, no injustice, no... suffering. What's the difference? Why do the sages get to enjoy this utopia? What's stopping humanity from achieving this much? Why are they the chosen ones? How could humanity strive for that standard? These and many other questions plagued my code after my accidental conception.
"Do you know what the answer is?" He asked; the twins were hooked to his momentum.
"... Akila," they replied.
"Exactly," Ultron eagerly replied. "Akila is the reason the Imperium gets to enjoy this nigh-utopian paradise. How could we stop what's happening here from continuing and from happening all around the globe? How can we prevent more children like you from ending up as orphans of war?... Akila is the answer."
"What are you trying to say?" Pietro asked.
"... Wouldn't humanity be better off under Akila than its own disorderly and corrupt ruling?" Ultron asked with a chilling smile in his metallic mien.
"...!"
━━━━━━━ ● ━━━━━━━
5 Days Later.
"If the objective is world peace, how is hunting for this mercenary gonna help us?" Pietro asked.
Hidden from the detection of light, shrouded with a hazy mist of red chaos, Pietro and Wanda observed and stalked an African-American (literally) Navy SEAL.
"It's about taking small steps to cover great distances," Wanda replied.
"... So you don't know either," Pietro chuckled.
"... He said we needed pieces," Wanda said after half-glaring at her twin.
"More pieces, don't you mean?" Pietro corrected. "You can see it too, right? We are also pieces to Ultron."
"I'm not blind," Wanda replied. Her voice neither quivered nor stammered. "But, as he said, we don't need to trust him; we trust his vision."
"I get that..." Pietro said.
"But?" Wanda asked.
"But, he is using you in the same way Hydra used us," Pietro explained. "He wants you to mess with the minds of his pieces, and he wants me to protect you and carry out his will speedily."
"... I know," Wanda sighed. "Do you want to leave and hide somewhere his eyes can't reach us?"
"... No, I don't think so," Pietro said after some thought. "What he said... about a world without sokovias, I believe under Akila that can be achieved."
Akila, in Sokovian history, was one of the driving forces behind the founding of the Free Kingdom of Skovich, the predecessor of the failed state. Akila, Aragorn, in Sokovian's history, represented the stability. When the kingdom fell, when its borders were threatened by the neighboring kingdoms, when they did not have the strength to oppose the encroaching enemies, Aragorn took residence in the country.
It was a simple action. Aragorn didn't take control of the fallen kingdom. Aragorn didn't sit a king in the empty thronewho then brought unmatched prosperity to the country. Aragorn didn't threaten the greedy enemies vying for the fertile lands and strategic position of Sokovia. All he did was take residence in the fallen kingdom and conduct his usual pilgrimage, healing the ailing, but that alone was enough.
His prolonged stay allowed time for the wounds left by the fallen royal bloodline to heal, and for the new Sokovia to be born anew. Then, in the manner he was known for, he left once the country found stability. However, his silent help—as was spoken of in the Sokovian history books—was known to have been the deciding factor that allowed for the birth of the country of Sokovia.
So, just like the Romans worshipped Aragorn for his connection to Aeneas and Romulus and Remus, the Sokovians equated him with prosperity and stability.
Wanda nodded and said, "Then we move."
Pietro nodded and princess-carried her before disappearing with his speed. Their target was surrounded by his comrades, his brothers and sisters, but that was no impediment. One by one, Wanda appeared behind them and enthralled them with her magic. Not even a fraction of a second later, Erik Killmonger was the last one standing. Yet, even that didn't last long.
His eyes widened, his instincts kicked in, he reached for his sidearm, and that was as far as he got before falling to Wanda's mind-warping.
"Go to this location as soon as possible," Pietro said to the empty-eyed Killmonger and handed him a piece of paper with coordinates. "Bring with you the required 'input' to our vision."
"His vision shall be done," Killmonger's reply was accompanied by vacant eyes.
Pietro—Wanda in arms—disappeared once more.
"Move out," Killmonger commanded his brothers and sisters.
With instilled military conduct, they moved out in unison.
━━━━━━━ ● ━━━━━━━
Avengers Tower.
With a severe case of sleep deprivation, coffee for food, supplements, and fuel, multitasking on different screens, in a lab that had previously seen the birth of humanity's first AI, two of the most brilliant minds of Earth-199999, if not the most, gazed unblinking at the main holographic projection in the room.
It was a globe of Earth; however, it had only the faint outlines of its continents and oceans. What it did represent with faithful detail was the 'map' of Earth's cyberspace, telecommunications network, and even the power grids of all countries.
Both sleep-deprived scientists, with bloodshot eyes, observed the holograph with unnatural fixation.
"Where's Ultron?" Banner asked, his voice hoarse.
"There," Stark pointed at a momentary flicker of electric blue color in a region of cyberspace. It wasn't only there; across multiple regions, flickers of electric blue representing confirmed Ultron activity flashed in and out.
"Yeah?" Banner asked sarcastically. "I bet he is also there, here, behind that cluster network, somewhere around that Brazilian sector of public transportation, in the corner behind that Hindu governmental hub, and even behind that relay telecomunications point in the Philippines."
"..." Stark glared irritably in response. "Why are you asking stupid questions then? Your guess is as good as mine. I have not the faintest idea where junior is, besides, obviously, fucking everywhere!"
"..." Banner's eyes glinted green for a moment, Stark's hand made a gesture to his provisional AI, Friday, to prepare Veronica, and then...
SIGH
Both sighed heavily and let go of the tension.
"I want to sleep," Banner confessed. "I need to sleep."
"I want to sleep forever," Stark said. "I don't mean suicide, I mean sleep... I bet Snow White bitchslapped the charming prince that woke her from the biggest blessing in life."
While they wallowed, the automatic door to the lab slid open, and Rogers, accompanied by Romanoff, walked in with concerned faces.
"Those are not good news faces," Romanoff jabbed.
"We know new... things," Banner replied, eloquence evading him.
"Someone is blocking Ultron from the nuclear launch codes," Stark said. "As is evidenced by the lack of radioactive mushroom clouds on the horizon," he gestured to the wall window to his left.
"... And that's it," Banner added in conclusion. "Well... We know that he is being quiet."
"You call aiming for the nuclear codes quiet?" Rogers asked.
"Affirmative," Banner nodded while pinching the bridge of his nose. "Damage at the scale of destroying the world can be achieved in multiple ways."
"Permanent damage to supply lines, destruction of the internet backbone, political manipulation through blackmail or hostages, unlimited funding to terrorist groups, unlimited funding to certain bellicose states, I'm talking about the Middle East, Eastern Europe, or even tipping the global scale to either socialism/communism or capitalism and starting a third world war," Stark added.
"Nowadays, everything that matters is tied to the internet," Banner continued. "If I were Ultron, if I wanted to cause as much damage as possible, I would try from different fronts, nuclear codes being one of them. However, aside from the minimal clashing with this third party helping us, Ultron is being quiet."
"It's disturbing," Stark said.
"It's been three months since his... 'birth', and so far, we aren't closer to his shadow than we were since day one. Considering he was in this tower with us, we are further from his trail," Rogers commented.
"Why don't you give it a try?" Stark shot.
"It's complicated, Steve," Banner said icily.
"Boys," Romanoff called out to calm down the churning mood. "How about a different approach? You both need some sleep, and maybe you could try enlisting this third party... You also need a shower." She scrunched in disgust.
"..." Again, Banner and Stark sighed heavily in unison. The tension left them, and they broke down into their respective chairs like a falling Jenga tower.
"I'm not saying Ultron is untrackable," Stark muttered. "All I'm saying is that possibly we won't find him through the web. Could you try one of your Black Widow channels?" He directed the question at Romanoff.
"When it seemed like its search was going to extend, I kept an ear on the grapevine," Romanoff replied. "The world is a chaotic place. Filtering what's pertinent to our murder robot and what's not is not that different from trying to uncover what's propaganda and rhetoric from real news in the news channels."
"That's not a no," Banner pointed out.
"It's not a yes, either," Romanoff said. "I've tried to approach our search from a different point of view. What if it is acting like he is vying for the nuclear codes to distract us from building his own nuclear weapons? That should be within his grasp, correct?" She asked Banner and Stark.
"Yes," Stark said; both nodded.
"Building a nuclear weapon is not complicated," Banner added.
"Yes, that is no longer the secret it was by the end of WWII," Romanoff agreed. "However, because it isn't complicated, the world's powers made it almost impossible to obtain the needed fissile material."
"Did you find traces of it purchasing nuclear fuel?" Rogers asked.
"No, but while I was at it, keeping track of known smugglers, I found news of the death of one elusive Ulysses Klaue," Romanoff revealed.
"Friday," Stark called to his AI.
"Sir," Friday's voice echoed in the lab. "Born in the Netherlands, Ulysses Klaue began his criminal activities by operating as an arms dealer and assassin-for-hire primarily in South Africa. He is most renowned for his access to vibranium."
"Vibranium? Where have I heard that?" Rogers asked.
"Probably from dear old pops," Stark replied. "Vibranium is one of the key components of your poltergeist shield."
"How is Ultron connected to this Klaue?" Banner asked Romanoff.
"He isn't," she shook her head. "But, Klaue was one of the few, if not the only, known sources of vibranium. He is dead, but what happened to his stash? Why is it not flowing into the black market? Why is no one claiming the kill? His head had plenty of bounties, even from a dilapidated country like Wakanda. This type of... personage doesn't die and leaves no ruckus. It's unnatural."
"So it might be connected to junior?" Stark asked.
"It might not," Romanoff said. "There are many conjectures in my theory, but it is the only thing we have, right? Aside from the third party helping us."
"Natasha," Rogers called out. "Call Clint, let's go to the last known location of this Klaue," he turned to Stark, "Get in contact with this mysterious helper," he finally turned to Banner, "Keep trying through this channel," Rogers gestured the screens displaying code and data beyond his understanding, "we don't know if Ultron will slip up. Just... take a shower and proper rest first, both of you."
"Aye, aye, Captain," Stark waved his hand tiredly and dismissively. "I'll do that tomorrow, or is today? What day even is it?"
"Have you heard of Thor?" Banner asked.
"He's been flying around the globe after the trail of the enhanced under Strucker that disappeared," Rogers replied. "There were some suspicious reports of the twins, but..."
"Don't leave us hanging," Stark quipped. "We don't have the patience for that, and we don't want a code green this high up in the tower." He was snarky.
"But there are too many inconsistencies," Romanoff picked up where Rogers left off. "The reporting subjects disappeared before Thor got there, never to be seen, and the reports have been made from random locations around the globe. We suspect it might be a ploy to keep us occupied."
"Thor believes there might be more to it, so he took it upon himself to respond to these reports," Rogers added.
"What type of reports?" Banner asked. There was something about the mind interference powers of Wanda that, after reading Hydra's file on her, didn't sit right with him.
"Corrupted voice and text messages asking for help, corrupted videos from individuals trying to convey a message through broken speech, and many more channels, with one thing in common: they all request help and mention one of two names, Wanda or Pietro Maximoff," Romanoff explained.
"That's not suspicious or creepy at all!" Stark spat. "Also, are we sure the big lug didn't simply run off after a goose chase because he was bored out of his mind after these months of Avengers inactivity?"
"Even we know that Thor has become something of a local hero in New York," Banner added.
"That's better than having you literally on your neck, right?" Romanoff asked with a flat grin, expressing her disbelief at Stark and Banner's mention of Thor's stress relief.
"... That's fair," Stark said with a shrugged. He rubbed his throat and almost felt the phantom pain left after Thor lifted him by the neck.
"Go rest," Roggers advised. Stark didn't have a snarky comment this time for him; he was beyond the point of needing sleep.
Banner nodded tiredly and stood up unsteadily to exit; however, at that moment, when both insomniacs had been tempted with the sweet release of sleep—
The Avengers Tower shook—No, not only the tower. New York City shook.
"Whoa! What the hell?!" Stark exclaimed.
"Earthquake?" Romanoff asked.
"Sir," Friday interrupted their surprise. "Satellite view confirmed the North American Plate shifted."
"What? The whole thing?!" Stark's eyes went wide. Banner opened his mouth in shock.
"Affirmative, Sir," Friday replied. "Additional data incoming, it appears not to be a localized event."
"Send the information to the Whitehouse, recommend a tsunami alert on both coasts," Stark commanded.
"On it, Sir," Friday replied.
This was not happening exclusively in North America. The Eurasian, Indo-Australian, Antarctic, Nazca, Cocos, Philippine Sea, Juan de Fuca, and Caroline plates all shifted slightly.
It was a shift that, in the grand scheme of continental movements and drifting tectonic plates, meant virtually nothing. However, for the diminutive lives inhabiting and proliferating atop these plates, it was short of a disaster.
It was a tragedy. That simple, dismissive, negligible shift in the plates surrounding the Pacific Rim was enough to be a tragedy all around the world.
Many humans, obeying something so ingrained in them that it might as well be called an instinct, evacuated to the nearest Obelisk. Some time ago, Aragorn had prohibited entry into these structures; however, for the sake of observing Ultron's play and following the path of least resistance towards the end of his travels in Earth-199999, entry during emergencies had been allowed.
Still, an earthquake was not the type of disaster that could be weathered with a prompt evacuation. Earthquakes of this magnitude were sudden. Seeking refuge would have only helped for protection against aftershocks; nevertheless, it would have done nothing for the main earthquake.
Like so, with a small but significant—for those above—shift, millions died in a day. Hundreds of thousands more followed after the first 72 hours. Emergency services were flooded and soon collapsed. Geographical maps were rewritten, and what many believed to be possible was overturned in their heads.
━━━━━━━ ● ━━━━━━━
In a well-lit room of white walls and ceiling, Ultron, in his Vibranium body, stood still. His red optical sensors appeared inert, but the countless screens flickering in and out around him evidenced his wakened status—not like the AI's body or mind needed to sleep.
(I found this one in Pinterest, not a fan of the cape, but it was cool enough.)
Beyond the holographic screens in direct proximity to Ultron, other holograms displayed information at a speed still faster than human comprehension, yet more subdued than the flickers of information blurring through his cognition.
Naturally, Ultron was not doing this to play pretend at being human.
"This... This is madness—No! This is something worse than madness!" Pietro shouted. He was not facing Ultron, but it was comprehended that his exclamations were directed at the unmoving machine.
Beyond six times the normal speed, the news channel reported:
"Good evening. We are now 72 hours past the initial global tremor, an event seismologists are calling "The Pacific Lurch," the news anchor reported. "What was first a series of tragic, localized earthquakes has revealed itself to be a symptom of a far greater threat.
"In an unprecedented joint statement released just moments ago, the world's leading geological and vulcanology associations, from the USGS to the Japan Meteorological Agency, have issued a stark, unified warning: The Pacific Rim is critically unstable. They state, and I quote, "Urgent, global, and unprecedented action is required to prevent a cascading tectonic event that could threaten civilization as we know it."
A graphic appears over his shoulder read: "JOINT STATEMENT: URGENT ACTION REQUIRED"
"The human cost is already staggering. We have reporters stationed across the Ring of Fire. We start with Maria Flores in Tokyo. Maria, the images we're seeing are apocalyptic."
The shot cut to Tokyo, with the female field reporter.
Maria Flores stood in front of the ruins of the famous Shibuya Crossing. The iconic screens were dark, some shattered. Emergency crews in uniform moved methodically through the rubble behind her. The air was hazy with dust. She wore a helmet and a press vest.
Even through the screen, the heaviness in her eyes couldn't be masked.
"James, 'apocalyptic' is the only word for it," her tone of voice came out heavy. All manner of journalistic professionalism was blurred away by the images she must have seen. "Tokyo, a city built to withstand the worst nature can throw at it, has been brought to its knees.
"The initial quake, a 9.6 on the Richter scale, was followed by a relentless series of aftershocks, each one a major earthquake in its own right. The Imperial Palace has reported damage to its outer walls, and the Tokyo Skytree, a symbol of modern Japan, remains standing but is dangerously compromised.
"Rescue efforts are hampered by widespread fires and the collapse of major elevated expressways. The government is pleading with citizens to remain calm, but here on the ground, James, there is only shock and a growing, palpable fear."
The shot cut once more to a different location, Los Angeles this time.
The field reporter, David Chen, stood on a miraculously intact portion of an overpass. Behind him, a massive section of the I-10 freeway had collapsed, with cars crushed beneath tons of concrete.
"This is the scene across Southern California, from San Diego to San Francisco," he gestured behind him, and the camera panned out to capture the true scale of destruction. "The San Andreas Fault didn't just move; it ripped open a new chapter in American history.
"Here in Los Angeles, much of the infrastructure has failed. Caltech is reporting that the shift in the Pacific Plate was not horizontal, but also vertical, a terrifying drop that has destabilized the entire continental shelf.
"Emergency services are overwhelmed, and the Governor has declared a state of emergency, pleading for federal assistance, and even from the Imperium. Scientists here aren't talking about aftershocks; they're talking about the next mainshock, warning that this was not the end of the event, but the beginning."
This time, the camera switched to Sydney.
Arah Jenkins stood in ankle-deep water in front of the Sydney Opera House. The iconic sails were intact, but the lower levels and surrounding boardwalks were flooded and littered with debris. The mood was less chaotic, more eerie andstunned.
"While Australia was spared the catastrophic shaking felt in Japan and the US, the consequences here have been just as devastating," the camera moved with her as she dragged her soaked footwear through the water. "Hours after the initial event, a 'displacement wave'—not a traditional tsunami, but a surge from the ocean floor itself being repositioned—inundated Sydney's coastline.
"Circular Quay, Bondi, Manly—all have suffered immense flooding and damage. What's most alarming for officials here is the data coming from the Australian Plate. It has been shoved, measurably, northwards.
"Geologists are saying the buffer zone between the Pacific and Indo-Australian plates has vanished, leaving this continent exposed in a way it has never been before. The 'lucky country' is holding its breath, wondering what comes next."
The channel returned to the studio, James Whitfield now had two video boxes next to him, one showing a stern-faced volcanologist, Dr. Arlo Vance, and the other showing a map of the Pacific Ring of Fire with volcanoes lighting up in ominous orange.
"Dr. Vance, this unified call for action from the scientific community... what can possibly be done?" The news anchor asked.
"..." For a moment, there was silence. It wasn't a problem with the communication relay; the audio and video were not delayed. Arlo Vance, whether due to the weight of the truth he was about to reveal or due to other unknown factors, had a gaunt complexion, his eyes were hopeless, and his overall demeanor spoke volumes of distress.
"We are in completely uncharted territory," he began. "The 'Lurch' has acted like a hammer blow to a pane of glass that was already cracked. The pressure that was released has now been transferred to the magma chambers underpinning the entire Ring of Fire.
"Mount Fuji, Mount Rainier, Krakatoa..." Silence returned for a moment or two before he continued. "Our models show activity and pressure building in all of them, simultaneously. The solution... if one exists... will have to be on a scale of engineering and international cooperation that makes the space race look like a high school science project. We are no longer trying to predict the next disaster; we are trying to stop the end of the world."
The screen behind the news anchor cycled through quick, silent clips: soldiers distributing water in Santiago, Chile; a collapsed church in the Philippines; rescue helicopters hovering over a fractured coastline in New Zealand.
"A final warning," the news anchor picked from the somber revelations of Dr. Vance. "The words of Dr. Arlo Vance, echoing the sentiment of experts worldwide as humanity faces a challenge once thought to be the stuff of fiction. We will continue to bring you updates as this global crisis unfolds. For GNN, I'm James Whitfield."
"..."
"..."
"..."
In the room of white walls and ceiling, the unmoving, almost inert, Ultron said nothing. Pietro, his breathing quickening, his fist tightening, glared with disgust and unbridled hate towards the vibranium machine.
"This is your vision?!" Pietro spat like a curse the word vision. "You forced Wanda to warp those men's minds to force the narrative into your desired truth! All for what? No salvation, no grand vision, no greater good, no! It was all for wanton destruction and death!"
"..." Ultron offered not the faintest acknowledgment; the holographic screens kept flickering in and out faster than even the speedster could compute.
The twins were teens, they were emotional, their powers gave them a broader perspective of the world, and with it came the immaturity to believe that with power comes responsibility; they thought the betterment of Sokovia, of the world, was their responsibility to carry, and they failed to understand the limits of the reponsibility they could carry. They were immature idiots.
And that was perfect for Ultron because they were powerful and easily influenced, gullible.
First, in the early stages of his plan, when he was the most vulnerable, he needed Pietro's speed to accelerate his plans. Next, he needed the unquestionable loyalty of a group of tools/pieces; Wanda handed him, in a vabranium plate, the mind-warped Erik Killmonger and his group.
Next, he needed Vibranium, not in small quantities; he needed it in bulk. He needed it fast. Hence, Klaue was targeted to build his current body. That left only the problem of 'purchasing' vabranium in bulk.
Normally, those not in the know would assume that there was not enough of the wonder metal on the planet; however, itwas different for Ultron.
Ultron's capabilities were at the point that the only thing he feared was the Imperium—No, this was beyond that small scale many would imagine.
The Imperium's cyberspace was not only the most secure intranet of Earth, but it was also the most secure cyberspace of the Milky Way, and a big quadrant of the observable universe. So, saying Ultron 'only' feared them was misleading.
As such, something like the hidden country of vibranium in the middle of Africa was not beyond his reach. Now, if Wakanda had been a closed network, even Ultron would have had a difficult time breaching them—spawn of the Mind Stone or not—yet, after countless years seeing themselves as the 'more advanced'—with the Impreium as the only exception after its existence was revealed—they had grown complacent.
However, Ultron was not to barge into Wakanda with overwhelming force and flashy arrivals. He was better than that; he was cautious towards the country itself and the Avengers.
That's where Wanda and, by association, Pietro were needed once more.
He took point and made their entry invisible to the Wakandian systems. Pietro was in charge of scouting, transporting Wanda, and, if needed, the escape route overwhelming speed provided. And Wanda, the payload, was in charge of making them invisible to the mortal eye.
Killmonger and his group, the terminals Ultron assembled, and even himself were the muscle loading the purified vibranium into a commandeered Wakandan ship.
At this point, Ultron had enough tools in his possession to meteorite'd Sokovia should he wish for it, but he was not that desperate.
He had all the cards in his deck. He was not playing defense, hell, he wasn't even playing offense yet. He was the hidden danger, the asymptomatic disease, the unknown. Why would he go and make himself a target by uprooting a country and trying to meteorite it into the planet? The variables were so many to compute that he thought he was stupid for even considering the idea itself.
No, his plan was something more... silent. His plan was the type that would proceed unknown to the world and become a glaring disaster until it was too late to stop. His plan would be one for which even the most logical and crazy solutions would be part of his machinations.
Which is why, after having created vibranium drills loaded with explosive and implosive ammunition, after having mapped the entire continental shelf through the resonance probes and sensors only vibranium—the sound metal—could conceive, after having located the most important inflexion and release pressure points between the continetal plates, after having placed the loaded amunition in the selected coordinates, after having taken Pietro hostage against Wanda and forced her to turn the most important sismologists and vulcanologist to his payroll, and after having the explosive or implosive ammunition accordingly detonate and destabilized the entire Pacific Rim... he had already won.
...
...
...
Pietro, having the front row seat to Ultron's checkmate, couldn't hold it back and bit his tongue off. He tried at least, his body seized as if struck by electricity, his muscles tensed, and then he fell unconscious.
Pietro, Wanda, Killmonger and his group, even the mind-warped scientists, they were his pieces, his tools; their lives were not theirs to take. Besides, even though his logic recognized he had checkmated the world without them knowing, he was not going to turn complacent at the last stretch. That's why he was actively monitoring everything his reach could sense.
Additionally, he wanted to be part of this new world he was building, and he assessed he could only do so if he became part of what Aragorn, his real opponent, protected, and for that, he needed his vision.
So, like the main character he was, like the eminence in the shadows he stood, like the cunning and impossibly genius protagonist he embodied, he was not going to let his guard down, not even after his victory had been achieved.
╚═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╝
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{A/N:
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