Remember to read my two new works: Harry Potter / Percy Jackson: Children of Destiny and Percy Jackson: First Dragonborn.
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Training Grounds of Distrust
Wanda and Pietro stood in a wide training field. The wind stirred the dust on the ground, and the silence was broken only by the distant hum of the machines recording data. Pietro had his arms crossed, his brow furrowed and his expression full of annoyance, while Wanda observed with a serious, though more composed, look.
In front of them, Owen held a tablet displaying their physical evaluations. The nearby machines flickered with blue lights as they detected the energy coursing through their bodies, measuring every fluctuation of power.
"Are you sure you're the best one to train us?" Pietro asked with disdain, glaring at him.
Owen didn't lift his eyes from the device. His voice was calm, almost indifferent.
"I could send you to the mutant school, but over there they respect the definition: mutants. And you're not. You were genetically altered, just like me, which technically makes me your senior. Besides, right now there's no one better than me who can endure uncontrolled powers without dying in the process."
Pietro raised an eyebrow mockingly.
"Oh, right… because you're a soldier."
"No. Because my body adapts to the damage I take. It even increases my natural defense after every impact. It's not absolute, but it's enough to give me the advantage in a fight against you—even if it's only by ten percent." This time Owen raised his eyes, finishing the review of the data.
The twins frowned.
"So… you mean you're learning from us in case the day comes when you have to fight us?" Wanda intervened, her tone icy.
Owen shrugged.
"I wouldn't mind. Tony, for example, already built an armor against Hulk. And mutants have their weaknesses, too. As for me, I have permission to punch Tony if he ever turns villain. After the appearance of a scepter capable of controlling minds, we learned something: anything with the word 'super' in front of it needs a contingency."
"And what about you? Do you have one too?" Pietro asked sarcastically.
"Yes. And it gets updated every month." Owen said it with total calm. Then he pressed a button on the tablet, and Pietro's metallic shoes snapped open. "Now, let's start with you, the guy who crashes into everything the moment he loses his shoes. Speed: metabolic acceleration that lets you move faster than the eye can track. Try not to trip over your own feet."
The jab lit a spark in Pietro's eyes. He smirked maliciously before vanishing at supersonic speed, charging straight toward Owen.
Owen didn't even tense up. With a weary gesture, he raised one hand. And in the same instant Pietro reappeared in front of him, Owen grabbed his face firmly. The impact sent him rolling across the ground, clutching his cheek with a groan of pain.
"You need to learn Newton's laws," Owen explained calmly, looking down at him. "Action and reaction. What happens when an unstoppable object collides with an immovable one. Basically, you turned yourself into a ball bouncing off a wall, taking your own momentum back as damage."
Pietro writhed in pain while Wanda rushed over, kneeling beside her brother with concern.
At that moment, Owen's tablet vibrated with a message. He sighed.
"They need me. Make some noise if you want, but don't stray too far. With your powers out of control, you're a danger to others and to yourselves." With that, he hurried off.
"Are you okay?" Wanda asked, her voice protective.
"Yeah… that bastard cushioned part of the blow by pulling his arm back at the last moment. Otherwise, I'd be worse." Pietro clenched his teeth, his pride wounded. "He's terrifying… and he doesn't even look that special." He shot a frustrated glance at his sister. "Now that he's gone, we can escape."
"No. Wait." Wanda stopped him, placing a hand on his arm. Her gaze turned pensive, almost troubled.
"I want to understand something I saw in his memory…"
"What?" Pietro asked, confused.
"Me." Wanda lowered her voice. She remembered the instant her power had activated by accident, slipping for barely a few seconds into Owen's mind. She had seen her own face projected on a screen… and she had seen Pietro dead. The memory had been cut off abruptly when she was expelled, unable to re-enter that fortified mind.
…
In another room, Owen stood in front of a screen where General Nathaniel appeared. His deep voice filled the space.
"Still playing house, Owen? I thought the whole Avengers thing was supposed to be Rogers's job. After all, you're already the leader of V.I.T.A.E."
Owen smirked faintly.
"And I already told you I'm not interested in leading anything. I'm just giving a hand here. After all, we stole the idea from Nick Fury, didn't we?"
The general let out a short chuckle.
"Yeah, we sure did."
"Then why the protocol? You could've just called me on the phone." Owen dropped the light tone and fixed him with a serious look.
"We stopped Ross." Nathaniel's expression hardened instantly. "He was experimenting on humans in a secret facility. One of his own soldiers betrayed him. We caught him before he could use the serum he developed—supposedly an upgrade to the one that created Hulk. The scientist behind the project, someone called M.O.D.O.K., disappeared."
Owen's eyes widened briefly. The memory surfaced: Red Hulk. He had only heard of it in comics, never seen it… until now.
"What do you plan to do with it?" he asked seriously.
"For now, nothing. We got lucky with Hulk—too lucky. We don't want another rampaging monster. The best course would be to destroy the serum… but we also don't know what the future holds. I'm aware of the contingencies you and Tony prepare, and I'm glad they exist. That's why this serum will be hidden somewhere safe. In case one day, we need it."
Owen nodded slowly, understanding. The general, even without knowing all the details of the future, was beginning to play the same game: preparing contingency plans for the inevitable.
"I sent Tony to deliver the briefcase to you. He has a moment of downtime, but I didn't tell him what it contains. Although, knowing him, he'll probably try to figure it out on his own. Keep an eye on him… make sure he doesn't break anything," the general said dryly.
"Wait—you sent Tony here? What about his fight with Killian?" Owen asked in disbelief.
"For now, it looks more like a commercial cold war. No major moves yet. And besides, it's better to keep him away from his house after that declaration he made against the Mandarin. We don't want missiles blowing up his home," the general replied seriously before cutting the transmission.
Owen sighed, glancing out the window at the training field. Pietro was running in circles, trying to control his speed—until he tripped and crashed, sending up a cloud of dust. Wanda, meanwhile, was trying to lift a rock with her power, but only managed to shatter it in a burst of uncontrolled energy.
"That's going to be less dangerous than sending him here, where two kids are waiting with the urge to kill him for ruining their country," Owen muttered.
…
The twins were training clumsily when a metallic hum in the sky made them look up. A red-and-gold figure descended at high speed: Iron Man.
Both widened their eyes in surprise, then immediately frowned with resentment.
Tony spotted them and stopped in front of them, hovering in the air with his thrusters blazing.
"So you're the new recruits. What's with the punk look? White hair? Seriously? You like looking like a premature old man?" he quipped with ironic humor, introducing himself in his own way.
Wanda didn't say a word. She raised both hands, and crimson energy surrounded Tony, who instantly got J.A.R.V.I.S.'s warning alerts in his HUD.
"Hey, relax. That sensitive? I only said 'punk' and 'old man,'" Tony remarked sarcastically, feeling his armor being pushed down toward the ground.
Even so, he held tightly to a metallic briefcase in his right hand, activating a repulsor with his left to slow his descent.
Suddenly, Pietro flashed forward like lightning. He had grabbed a stick from a nearby fence and smashed it against Tony's armored chest, sending the briefcase flying.
"Kids these days get offended over nothing," Tony shot back with irony. He raised his hand and fired a repulsor blast straight into Pietro, hurling him several meters away. The charge had been carefully regulated—enough to stun, not to injure.
Wanda raised her hand again, trying to hurl Tony away with more force, but instead she accidentally crushed one of the metal arms of his suit, squeezing it dangerously.
Before she could lose control, a small stone shot through the air and struck her on the forehead. Wanda let out a cry, clutching her face.
Owen was approaching with the briefcase in hand, his eyes hard.
"You can't even control your powers properly, and you're already trying to attack Iron Man. Don't you realize he's holding back?"
Tony, who had deployed a pair of missiles from his shoulders, retracted them with a huff.
"Of course. I can't be too harsh on the rookies," he said with pride. Then he turned his head toward Wanda. "Still, that little display of powers was interesting. But you owe me a robotic arm."
Wanda pressed her lips together, annoyed, and cast Owen a reproachful look for the rock to the forehead.
It was then that Owen decided to cut the tension.
"Tony, they hate you. They blame your missiles for the death of their parents and the destruction of their city. Twins, meet Tony Stark—now known as Iron Man."
The silence fell like a blade. Tony froze at Owen's words.
"What country?" he asked seriously, though to the twins it sounded more like mockery. They glared at him with contempt and hatred.
"Sokovia," Owen answered firmly.
Tony tilted his head slightly, uncomfortable.
"Well… this is a pretty awkward introduction," he said, scratching his head mechanically. The gesture looked odd with the armor on, but it was enough to show that even Iron Man didn't quite know how to handle the situation.