{A/n: Ruzzzy, MICROFIGHTER PRODUCTIONS. Thank you for your valuable support. (www.patre n.com/Chaoswriter01) membership at the lowest $1. I will appreciate the help, guys.
The Nevada sun beat down like a hammer as Aldrich Killian surveyed the command hub of the hidden research facility, its monitors and control panels pulsing with data streams. The logos of Kane International and Stark Industries were fixed on the central screen, flickering with each pulse of his Extremis-charged veins.
"They took everything," he muttered, voice low and rasping. "My research—it was supposed to be my legacy."
The Nevada sun beat down like a hammer as Aldrich Killian surveyed the makeshift war room spread across holographic panels. The logos of Kane International and Stark Industries floated before him, flickering with each pulse of his Extremis-charged veins.
"They took everything," he muttered, voice low and rasping. "My research. It was supposed to be my legacy."
Across from him, Justin Hammer lounged in a reinforced testing chair, casually twirling a sleek prototype capacitor between his fingers. His smirk never wavered.
"We share common enemies," Killian said, turning to face the weapons magnate. "Kane's arrogance. Stark's hypocrisy. I want to bury them so deep that not even a dog would sniff out their names."
Hammer's smile grew wider. "So, what do you bring to this partnership, Doctor?"
Killian flexed his right hand, the faint glow beneath his skin pulsing in rhythm with his breath. "Combatants who regenerate mid-fight. Unstoppable, tireless." His eyes narrowed. "But I need your infrastructure to mass-produce it."
Hammer leaned forward, eyes glinting, studying the subtle glow in Killian's veins. "You know such experiments are banned, right?"
Killian scoffed. "Can't you do anything with your influence? Just call it medical advancement."
Hammer's grin widened. "Welcome to the future. Welcome to Hammer Industries." He stood and extended a hand.
Killian eyed it for a moment, then clasped it firmly.
---
One month later at Kan HQ
Alex studied satellite feeds of the Nevada compound. Bright, concentrated, and unmistakable thermal signatures flared on the holo table—tech gifted by Stark after their cooperation.
Beside him stood Richard Kane, visibly tense, arms crossed as he eyed the data. Opposite them, CTO Marla Ren reviewed the energy readings, fingers flying over her datapad. Next to her, Intelligence Director Elias Grant adjusted his glasses, scrutinizing intercepted communications from Hammer's internal servers. At the far end of the table, newly promoted Unit Commander Reece Henderson waited silently, ready for deployment at a single word.
This was more than surveillance—it was a council of war.
"Thermal readings match Extremis prototypes. There is a 90% chance he is inside," Elias reported.
Richard Kane's voice was calm but firm. "Hammer Industries supplies weapons to the Army. They've got senators in their pockets. A direct raid could cost us everything."
Alex's expression never wavered. He tapped the holo table, zooming in on the compound's perimeter. "We go dark. No identifiers, no paper trail. In and out. Recon only."
Richard's voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "If you're wrong—"
Alex cut him off with a single nod toward Henderson. "There is no other option, uncle. Assemble Team Talon."
---
It was night when Team Talon touched down in Nevada. The corridor lights flickered as the five Kane operatives moved in silence.
Davies, once the youngest recruit, had risen to team Captain through sheer determination and skill. He gave instructions to two operatives to secure the area and watch for any anomalies, then took the remaining two with him as he advanced further inside. He tightened his grip on the stun rifle, remembering how Alex had saved his hometown from the Ten Rings—an act that changed his life.
"Heat signatures were just down here," Davies whispered, voice tense.
Before anyone could respond, vents hissed and released a cloud of amber gas. Hydraulic doors slammed shut at both ends.
"Ambush—retreat!" someone shouted.
A second later—boom. An explosion rang out.
The two operatives nearest the blast were engulfed by flames instantly. Davies was hurled backward, slamming into the wall as a massive chunk of debris crushed his legs. The remaining team members securing the perimeter were knocked unconscious by the shockwave.
---
Alex stood at Davies' bedside, the young man's bandaged stumps stark against the crisp hospital sheets. Davies tried to sit up, but Alex silently pressed a hand to his shoulder, holding him down without a word.
Davies' eyes searched the room, then landed on Elias. "My team… what happened to them?"
Elias, standing by the corner, replied grimly, "Two died in the explosion. One in the shockwave. Only two survived. It's a miracle you did."
Davies blinked, processing the loss, then looked down at his own legs. It didn't feel like a miracle. He looked back at Alex. "My wife… our baby's due next month," he choked out, desperation seeping into his voice. "Please, sir… even a desk job. Anything. I can't go home like this with nothing."
Alex looked at his legs—a young man no older than him by a few years, now crippled because of his own carelessness and stupidity. The guilt was visible in Alex's eyes.
Alex rested a hand on Davies' shoulder, gentle but firm. "We never abandon our own. There's another path. One that could make you stronger than before."
Davies blinked, confusion in his eyes. "What… what are you saying?"
Alex lowered his voice to a whisper. "Extremis is almost ready. Trust me. Wait for me."
The recruit's breath caught. "That serum… the one from Florida? Can I be a superhero with that?"
Alex's expression tightened, then softened at the young man's enthusiasm. "It's not ready. We need to ensure there are no side effects before beginning any trials. That's the promise I gave to Dr. Hansen."
Alex met his gaze without flinching. "Give me this chance, and I swear—you won't just walk again. You'll run. As for being a hero... that part's up to you."
And in that moment, Davies knew his life would never be the same.
---
Back at Kane HQ.
Alex sat in the war room, surrounded by the same command staff from earlier—Richard, Marla Ren, Elias Grand, and Henderson—but silence still reigned. His eyes were closed, hands resting on the edge of the table. Despite their presence, no one dared disturb the stillness, the air heavy with the weight of loss and anticipation.
Richard stood by the doorway, concern written across his face. This setback—it might break his nephew's spirit. Quietly, he stepped forward and called out, "Alex..."
Alex opened his eyes.
The moment his lids parted, a sudden pressure filled the room. Every piece of equipment vibrated, monitors flickering. This was not sadness nor discouragement. This was pure, uncontrolled rage. The anger was so raw it seemed to warp the very air around him.
And then, in a voice that didn't sound entirely human, Alex growled, "Justin Hammer... I... want... him... DEAD!"
The windows cracked.
The wild beast had just been unchained.