The water was warm, the stars just starting to peek out above the coast. The Morales mansion's infinity pool glowed from underneath with soft blue light, and the ocean breeze filtered through the palm trees, rustling the leaves like lazy applause.
Rio Morales rested her arms against the edge of the pool, her elbows propped on the warm stone. Her deep brown skin shimmered under the low light, her curls tied up in a high bun. She wore a wine-red bikini that hugged her body like it had been tailored for her curves—high-cut bottoms, supportive top, practical but still stunning.
Felix was in a black speedo. Rio insisted on it. He was far, far too tense, she said, and he needed to relax. He couldn't tell if she was joking or not.
The older woman dipped her head under briefly, then came up, blinking water out of her lashes. "So, I'm confused—are the Dora Milaje supposed to be the king's concubines or not? That's what I heard as a kid."
Felix replied candidly, sitting on the pool's edge with his legs in the water. "Maybe a hundred years ago, not anymore. It's a modern country with a monarch. There's bound to be tradition, but going that traditional would make them seem like lunatics. Now they're more like the Secret Service with spears and martial arts and highly advanced armour. Makes the ladies bullet-proof and grenade-proof."
"That's possible?"
"Mhm. Wakanda is ahead of America for a reason. Even SHIELD does its best to try and get their schematics. They've failed. A lot. Mostly because only the royal family knows.
Rio stayed in the pool, thinking. "The king and not an engineer? I'm surprised."
"I think they have a shaman or something that knows as well but I'm not too sure. Wakanda is a monarchy, sure, but not your typical 'king until death' setup. It's technically elective now."
"Like a royal election?"
"Exactly. It was a system introduced by T'Challa's grandfather. If someone with royal blood from one of the five major tribes thinks the king—or queen—isn't cutting it, they can challenge for the throne. That triggers a snap election. The people vote."
"So anyone from the tribes can challenge?"
"Only if they're of royal lineage. And they have to prove that they have the support of their tribe. That's the kicker."
"Ohh, is that why there was that royal terrorist in Wakanda?"
"M'Baku, yeah." Felix hadn't told her that he saved him. Not out of bad intentions, but come on, there was just SO much to explain when it came to being Spider-Man. Often, Rio couldn't wrap her head around it.
"The Jabari Clan that M'Baku hails from are from the north in the mountains. They're pretty anti-vibranium and were the main rivals of the Panther Clan—King T'Challa's clan. Unfortunately, as much as M'Baku tried to rile them up for a revolution, he couldn't. T'Challa was different from his father and didn't want to forcibly integrate vibranium or the customs of the rest of the country to them. He respected their sovereignty and the clan respected him in turn."
"So why didn't M'Baku agree with that?"
"Because of technology and the use of the first nuke. Wakanda was surprisingly late to the party and only developed their first nuclear weapon in the nineties. They're landlocked so they didn't have too much space to test it. But once they got it and started stockpiling, M'Baku feared it would be used on them."
"Ohh, so it was a self-preservation of the clan thing."
"Mhm. As much as his clan hated the Panthers and the royal family, they hated non-Wakandans even more."
"Right, at the end of the day, they are all Wakandans."
"Precisely. Doesn't matter how much different tribes and people and parties hate each other in the country. Once there's an outside force that can serve as their enemy, patriotism kicks in. Back then, for Wakanda, it was the Soviets. They were uneasy allies with America, so them too, but it was mostly the Russians due to their geography. Ultimately, the fear and the patriotism of the era killed his momentum. M'Baku kept pushing anyway. Started skirting around the government's process. Stirring up militia groups. Eventually, he blew up a library and the public labeled him a terrorist."
"Ah."
"Yeah, and then he tried to assassinate T'Challa which is when he got caught—"
"Oh, I heard of this one! Didn't Captain America beat him?"
"Allegedly." Rio gave him a look. "Okay, yeah, it was Cap."
"Sheesh, she sure is amazing. I can't believe she was your bodyguard for so long." Rio was quiet for a moment. "Wait, did the captain kill him or…?"
"No, he's…alive. Actually—"
Rash warned him a certain signal was buzzing his phone. Felix thanked the Symbiote and got up.
"Sorry, Rio. Important call."
"Osborn?"
"Close. Peggy Carter."
Rolling his shoulders, yawning, he went under the umbrella table, sat at the lounge chair, and picked up the phone. Technically, he didn't pick up the phone at all but talking to himself felt weird no matter how much he tried to rationalize it.
"Hello."
"I'll cut to the chase," Director Carter said. "Are you joining us or not?"
"Look, I told you, I need to think—"
"And I told you, I need an answer and I prefer to get it before Osborn."
Admittedly, he did have an answer. After spending a vacation's worth of time with Rio, making sure everything was fine with Luke from a distance, and earning plenty of bank on the side, it solidified what he thought of his current status.
Felix Faeth was going to hit his mid-twenties and be the richest person of his age. He was going to be a bonafide prince of the world with money in the pockets of nearly every nation and a superhero persona who travelled and aided in what could not be accomplished with money.
Felix decided to stay with Oscorp. This desperation that reeked from SHIELD, having Peggy go right to Osborn to ask for him, something was off.
"...I'm going to give you my answer in the same time I give it to Mr. Osborn. I know my value, Director." Ending that sentence, his Spider-Sense tingled. He pretended not to notice. He pretended that he wasn't livid.
'This bitch.'
She had SHIELD snipers trained at him and Rio.
Felix wasn't too surprised. SHIELD was the CIA and the military and the FBI put into one. They knew his history, they knew his neighbours, they knew what he did and everyone he did it with. With his parents, he was able to find them a near isolated location, away from the prying eyes of SHIELD. But Rio? Her son? People who functioned in society and wanted to function in society? Unless he put them in a basement, it was impossible for them not to be tracked, even in Puerto Rico.
And he promised Rio that as Spider-Man, he was going to take care of everything. Him being Spider-Man wasn't going to compromise their safety—and she believed him with her whole heart.
"I do not like being kept in the dark, Mr. Faeth. And from the sound of it, it feels like you have an answer."
If he wasn't Spider-Man, he wouldn't have noticed the snipers. Rio certainly didn't, smiling and swimming in the pool. She waved at him, not knowing her life was potentially in danger, and he waved back.
'Herbie, Rash, can the two of you locate the sniper?'
'I canon't. I am using your eyes and ears but they are tooooo far.'
'NEGATIVE. NO RADIO SIGNALS DETECTED. SATELLITE IMAGERY LOADING.'
They were camouflaging. They carried no equipment with them and their range must have been two miles away. The surrounding area of the mansion was full of greenery.
'Playing old school guerilla warfare. Should have expected as much from a grandma.'
His Spider-Sense told him he was fine. The finger was on the trigger but intentions-wise, there was no way she was going to shoot. It made no sense to kill him. He was her only out. Her only way to prolong her already lengthy life.
"You're desperate," Felix stated. "Uncharacteristically desperate. Is something wrong?"
He hit right on the head. She said nothing, and slowly, his Spider-Sense drained itself of the danger.
"Fine. I will be wait."
Director Carter hung up and the danger from the snipers were gone too. Felix put the phone down, squinting at the floor and thinking.
'...I know I don't know Director Carter that well but it sounded to me that she was scared.'
Felix had been taking it easy, doing things from his mansion and through his satellites. Much of his life required balancing Spider-Man and the hyper rich, super intelligent Felix Faeth and it wasn't easy. Being with Rio, being with someone that knew everything and still accepted him made him not lose his mind.
"Rio, I'm heading out."
"Aw, okay." Rio rose from the pull, smiling, and hugged him. "When will I see you again?"
"Probably a month."
"Going to Wakanda to sleep with the princess?" she teased.
"Not quite but almost as important."
"It's always something important with you."
He smiled and kissed her. Before leaving, he told Aaron to initiate Code ASA—Code Anti-Sniper-Alert. It was a smart perimeter defense system Felix had designed himself and had Herbie construct underground.
Most criminals thought defense was about thick walls, guards, or reactive sensors. But Felix understood the real threats in the modern age. high-velocity precision weapons, remotely fired sniper rounds, armor-piercing bullets that moved too fast for traditional defenses to intercept.
So, he built something smarter. At its heart, Code ASA created an electromagnetic mesh field—invisible to the naked eye, but wrapped in a 360-degree dome over and around the mansion's perimeter. Using low-orbit satellite triangulation, ultra-thin magnetic panels hidden throughout the mansion's infrastructure, and ionized air conductors, the field could subtly warp localized magnetism.
Not strong enough to disrupt human biology or household electronics—Felix wasn't trying to cook everyone's pacemaker—but just strong enough to detect, decelerate, and deflect metallic projectiles. It was a feature that he initially invented for a certain suit he was working on, but when he discovered it made the suit too hot, he implemented into the house instead.
Twenty minutes later, as Felix sat in his limo, back in the security room of the mansion, Aaron watched as the diagnostics screen lit up green.
"All clear. ASA is up," Aaron said. "We're officially bulletproof."
***
Getting to his private jet, riding the limo and getting to Oscorp Tower, all without suspicion, took a whole day. On that day, they scheduled a specific date. Felix was affirmed in telling Norman Osborn and Peggy Carter both at the same time. No bullshit and no tricks.
The private elevator at Oscorp Tower ascended in silence, smooth and near soundless, carrying Felix up the spine of the half-restored skyscraper. At the current final floors were exposed steel beams along the edges, scaffolding shadowing the glass, and air that smelled of new concrete and scorched metal.
As the elevator opened, Felix stepped out into the boardroom of the new Summit Floor. The space was clinically clean and absurdly wide, a long steel-and-glass table stretched down the middle like a runway, and behind it, the skyline of New York glowed orange in the early evening haze.
Norman Osborn stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back, eyes scanning the horizon. His suit was dark red, impeccable, and somehow always a shade darker than what the lighting allowed.
"Another floor, huh?" Felix remarked.
"Of course," Norman replied.
"And every single new floor has to be yours?"
"It's a sign of respect."
"Seems awfully inconvenient."
"It is what it is, my friend." He turned and gestured at the table. "Sit."
He did.
Felix took a seat near the head of the table, glancing toward the second chair left empty on purpose—Director Peggy Carter's.
They waited.
Minutes passed. Then ten. Then twenty.
Norman checked his watch, then tapped his fingers on the glass table. "This is... uncharacteristic."
At minute thirty-one, Norman finally sat down across from him. "Well, we did agree to this. One answer, to both of us, at the same time. I honored that. Apparently, Director Carter couldn't."
'Or wouldn't,' he noted in his head. 'Herbie, try and figure out where the Director is. She should be here, I literally talked to her yesterday.'
Norman's gaze sharpened. "So, what's it going to be, Faeth? SHIELD or Oscorp?"
Felix met his eyes. "Oscorp."
Norman leaned back slightly, the corners of his mouth pulling into something between a smirk and satisfaction. "Good."
The decision had already been dissected, analyzed, weighed to the micron. SHIELD offered power, legitimacy, oversight. But SHIELD also saw his potential as a weapon first, a scientist second. Their interest in Project Rebirth II, in Extremis, in helping—all of it was bent toward one purpose: control.
Norman, while just as manipulative, was pragmatic. Business-oriented. His interest in Felix wasn't rooted in global dominance or legacy. It was profit. And profit meant sustainability. Felix's intellect wasn't just a tool to him—it was an asset. You don't break your best machine; you maintain it.
And more than that, Norman understood what Felix was building: a world of progress. A future where disease could be cured, where limitations could be undone.
SHIELD would have him make better prisons.
Norman wanted him to make better people.
It was a business-centric vision of the world, yes—but that made it more stable. More logical. It gave Felix freedom and it put his family at less risk.
Felix stood. "I'll be checking up on Luke."
"Take your time," Norman said, rising with him. "You've earned it, my friend."
Felix returned to the elevator and descended into Oscorp Tower's lower depths once more: Sublevel B4.
Except getting there wasn't as simple before.
The elevator stopped on three separate security tiers. Each time, Felix was required to pause for scans: facial recognition, biometric pulse patterning, retinal ID, and one new measure Norman implemented himself: electromagnetic resonance mapping. It scanned his body for any and all internal matters.
Which would have found even the Symbiote if not for the fact that Felix had hacked all of Oscorp. The electromagnetic mapping found the Symbiote but Herbie told the security guards and the machine itself otherwise.
The final elevator lock disengaged with a mechanical hiss. The doors parted, revealing the clean, humming halls of B4. He walked through the halls and opened the first door to the left. Through the reinforced glass of the observation decks, Felix saw Luke was in mid-set on a treadmill, shirtless, muscles coiled with effort, sweat tracking down his body like it was afraid to linger. There were weights on his ankles and wrist.
On the diagnostic console was Kavita, arms folded, tapping her foot as she reviewed graphs; Dr. Jane Foster was closer to Luke himself and focused on real-time vitals, and Maya was on a tablet.
There was a door at the side. Felix went through that door to exit the observatory and join them. Everyone noticed.
"Morning, boss," Kavita said without looking. "Back from your vacation finally?"
"I know, I know, I'm a shitty boss. It's just the money, you know? Too addicting," Felix joked. He went to Jane's side and checked out her clipboard. Jane flipped to the summarization of today's training.
Sprint Speed: 42.6 mph (stable)
Deadlift Equivalent: 3,200 lbs
Bone Density: +78% from baseline
Oxygen Efficiency: Surpassing all prior metrics, even Samantha Wilson's week-eight logs after her return.
Super soldiers had exceptional growth. When Captain America was discovered to be frozen in an iceberg (or whatever it was), SHIELD scientists were quick to see if all the stories about her were myth or fact. They were more than fact. What she did seemed like myth, the experimentation and modern day exercises making her better than she was in her heyday.
Luke was experiencing that same growth but on steroids.
Jane turned to him. "He's adapting faster than you predicted. His vascular growth, muscle alignment, even neuroplasticity—it's textbook ideal."
"Because he was already strong," Felix said. "Not just physically. Metabolically, genetically. Since he has mutated blood that makes him compatible with everything, it makes his food better. You have been feeding him well, right?"
"Obviously," Kavita said. "Only the best too. Mr. Osborn was very adamant about the greens."
"And he's right. Greens and meat. Maybe ice cream."
"I'm, haah, right here, you know!" Luke panted. They were pushing him hard, no holding back. "When will I be allowed to go home, Felix? My girl's a nurse, she finds—haah—and Osborn said she's not allowed to visit anymore?"
Felix apologized. "Just another week, man." He saw the grimace. "I know, I know, I'm sorry but this is the discovery of the century. You're going to help a lot of people. And, hey, at you're getting paid six figures."
That did make Luke perk up and run faster. Money, it seemed, could motivate even the stoutest of men.