The man who entered the room looked oddly familiar.
A few seconds passed before Rory finally recognized him.
The man sat down with a stiff expression and said flatly,
"Rory, though we've never met, I've heard your name for a long time."
Rory raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"General Ross, what brings you here?" he asked, his tone neutral.
"Technically," the man corrected, "I'm a former Lieutenant General. My current role is Secretary of State, overseeing all affairs related to enhanced individuals."
Ross had always had a peculiar obsession with superhumans.
The Sokovia Accords? His brainchild.
He not only drafted the legislation but also oversaw its implementation.
He'd tried to put the Avengers under government oversight, which directly led to the infamous Civil War.
Though the team split, a portion, led by Tony Stark, still signed the accord.
That political victory had earned Ross his current role.
Rory gave a half-interested smile.
"So… you're here to monitor me?"
There was no way Ross didn't know what Rory had done in New York.
Yet here he was, reaching out.
That meant Ross needed something.
Ross's moustache twitched slightly upward.
"I've read your file. It says you're a brilliant biologist. Developed your own super-serum.
I think there's potential for collaboration."
Of course he knew.
That intel likely came from within the Avengers.
Not from Steve Rogers, certainly, but from people like Sam Wilson or James Rhodes, who were directly tied to the military.
And after witnessing Rory's performance in New York, Ross became even more convinced he had to get him on his side.
Rory leaned forward slightly.
"So tell me then. What kind of collaboration are you talking about? What do you want? And more importantly, what are you offering?"
Ross liked the directness.
He dropped the act.
"I want your super-serum. The real deal, the strong one.
And in return… anything within my power. Name it."
"Anything?"
Ross nodded slowly.
Rory tapped his fingers against the armrest, thinking.
Then he said:
"Alright. First, I want a legal identity. Official clearance.
And I want you to publicly clear my name regarding the New York incident."
"Done. I can draft and issue a military research consultant appointment immediately."
Rory waved his finger.
"Second, I want you to help me track down certain individuals, and authorize their capture using government resources."
Ross paused, eyes narrowing.
"Can I ask… what kind of individuals?"
"Aliens. You can invoke national security protocols.
And if you can convince the Avengers to help with the takedown, even better."
Ross didn't even flinch.
Earth had practically become a cosmic bus stop in the past decade.
Aliens coming and going wasn't exactly breaking news anymore.
"I'll need more details for that. What else?"
Rory smiled, then dropped the hammer.
"My final request:
Help me take down the Avengers."
Ross blinked.
Did he just hear that correctly?
He wanted to use the Avengers to fight aliens, while also plotting to destroy them behind the scenes?
The audacity.
"You heard me," Rory said, reading his expression.
Ross chuckled, shaking his head.
"I won't lie. I've never liked them either. But even so… I don't have the means to oppose them directly."
At best, Ross could apply political pressure on the Avengers, never direct force.
"Why not build your own team?" Rory said coolly.
"With my serum, you could create your own super-soldiers."
Ross hesitated.
Rory leaned in slightly, voice dropping:
"And since you're not getting any younger… how about I throw in a little something extra?
A few years added to your lifespan."
That got Ross's full attention.
Longevity.
The oldest and most elusive of human desires.
From ancient elixirs to modern gene research, mankind had always dreamed of cheating death.
Even governments funded super-serum projects not just for power, but for immortality.
Ross, despite all his skepticism, was no different.
He stared at Rory.
"You can really do that?"
Rory shrugged.
"Still in the testing phase. Theoretically… it's already a success.
Just needs a few live trials to confirm."
Ross slapped the table.
"Deal."
Theory was good enough for him.
Even if it failed, there'd be more trials. More chances.
And besides, if Rory could go from nobody to soloing the Avengers, there was no doubt his science was the real thing.
That very afternoon, Rory was driven to a military research facility, where Ross officially issued a public appointment naming him a government research consultant.
Of course, clearing his name in the New York incident wouldn't be as easy.
That would take meticulous PR coordination, and several days of groundwork.
Ross personally escorted Rory on a tour of the facility.
Funded by the state and taxpayers, the place was massive and packed with cutting-edge tech.
Whatever materials Rory needed, if he could name it, this lab had it.
After a full circuit of the facility, they entered a secure elevator.
Ross scanned his card and led Rory into the subterranean levels.
"Security is tighter down here," he said.
"Your personal lab is in that direction."
But instead of going there, Ross led Rory to a different room, a wide glass panel overlooking a sealed chamber.
Inside, several technicians worked around a table.
When Rory spotted the figure lying on the lab table, his eyes lit up with faint surprise.
"Steve Rogers?"
Ross' voice was ice-cold.
"The so-called Captain America is dead. But his corpse is still worth studying."
The funeral had been broadcast nationwide.
No one would suspect that his body had been… repurposed.
If that secret ever got out, what was left of the Avengers would lose their minds.
In fact, they were already on the verge.
When Nick Fury saw the news that Rory had become an official government advisor, his one good eye nearly popped out of his skull.
"Motherf-
FUCK!!!
Screw you, Ross!!!"
Fury was livid, storming around his office, unleashing a profanity-laced tirade that would make a sailor blush.
He'd been busting his ass rebuilding the Avengers from scratch,
Only for Ross to hand the keys to their worst enemy?
What was he now?
A joke? A clown?
And worst of all,
Fury couldn't lay a finger on Ross.
The Avengers couldn't go after the government.
That meant… this would have to be handled diplomatically.
Which only made Fury's blood boil more.
Rory had damn near flattened Manhattan, torn the Avengers apart, and now?
Now he was on the payroll.
"This… is un-fucking-believable."**
At that moment, Nick Fury wanted nothing more than to fly to Ross' office and throw him into another dimension.
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