With the Ten Rings in his hand, Nolan didn't even bother wiping off the blood. He slipped them onto his fingers one by one, eager to test their true power.
The moment all ten rings were in place, a strange force brushed against his mind.
Not violent.
Quite the opposite gentle, steady, almost soothing.
It reminded him of the Mystic Ring used by sorcerers.
Mystic Rings weren't magical on their own.
But for ordinary sorcerers, channeling the magic inside their bodies was incredibly difficult.
The rings acted as a bridge, enabling them to draw out and shape that power.
Of course, for someone like the Ancient One, tools like that were meaningless.
Her body overflowed with magic.
If she didn't constantly keep it restrained, her mere presence could tear holes in reality.
Ordinary sorcerers, however, needed that mental link with the Mystic Ring in order to cast even the simplest spell.
These Ten Rings felt nearly identical.
But something was different.
Nolan raised his hand and willed the energy within one of the rings to stir.
A massive surge of power erupted from his fingertip.
A deafening boom shook the air as a tree in front of him instantly burst into flames.
Nolan's eyes widened.
Not the same at all.
They might resemble Mystic Rings, but the Ten Rings were terrifying for a different reason they required no talent, no training, no magic affinity.
Anyone could use them.
Even an ordinary human.
"These are incredible."
His eyes gleamed as he removed the rings and stored them away.
He didn't need them now, but someday they might save him trouble.
If he'd possessed the Ten Rings when he first entered Spider-Man's world, he wouldn't have had to struggle so miserably in the beginning.
With these, he could have stood toe-to-toe with any hero in that universe.
"The Ten Rings… Mandarin… thanks for the donation. As payment, I'll make sure your people get a proper burial."
With a battle this large, there was no way to keep it hidden.
The Ten Rings had quietly infiltrated New York for years. Many lived normal lives among the public.
Their sudden disappearance would inevitably draw attention.
By the third day, the NYPD arrived.
And they weren't alone.
Agent Phil Coulson appeared at the Hive with his assistant.
"Mr. Locke, according to reliable intel, a large number of people went missing around this area. Do you have any leads?"
Coulson's voice was painfully polite.
Nolan didn't make things difficult for him.
"I saw them. A group of terrorists attempted to attack the Hive. They caused some trouble."
"And… where are they now?"
A faint unease crept into Coulson's tone.
"Dead, of course."
Nolan said it casually, as though reporting the weather.
Coulson swayed on his feet.
"Dear God… there were hundreds of them. They can't all be dead."
"They're all dead. In a battle like that, I don't have the luxury of holding back. You know how secure the Hive is."
There was a quiet chill in Nolan's voice almost polite, but undeniably cold.
Coulson heard it clearly.
He didn't need Nolan to explain the rest.
Then Nolan added:
"If you want, I can give you the burial site and the security footage from that night."
"T… thank you."
Coulson's voice was defeated.
He stared at Nolan with a complicated expression, unable to understand how someone could remain so calm after killing hundreds of people.
As the two left LockeTech, Coulson's assistant finally spoke up:
"Sir, Nolan Locke is unbelievable. He's basically spitting on the law!"
Coulson shot him a warning look.
"If you have a problem with that, feel free to arrest him. But let me remind you: you have no evidence, no warrant, and if you try anything inside his territory, he'll make sure you stay there permanently."
"That's impossible! We have the recording!"
The assistant reached into his coat and pulled out a small recorder.
Before he could press play, a faint burning smell drifted out.
"The recorder… broke?"
He stared at it in disbelief.
Coulson shrugged.
"Don't underestimate Nolan Locke. He's young, but he's a fox through and through. He'll never leave evidence unless he wants to."
The assistant still looked stunned.
The recorder wasn't just broken. It was fried, as if something had physically destroyed its internal components.
Nothing about it made sense.
But Coulson had seen it before.
The first time he visited LockeTech, he'd tried recording their conversations too. That lasted all of two minutes.
He never tried again.
Nolan Locke's technological capabilities were far beyond what anyone imagined.
"Damn genius…"
Coulson muttered under his breath.
It wasn't really an insult just an expression of helplessness.
Neither Nolan Locke nor Tony Stark were people anyone could control.
Anyone who tried had long become dust.
Back at S.H.I.E.L.D., Nick Fury reacted to the report with weary resignation.
"If Nolan Locke is involved, that explains everything.
Put this aside for now, Coulson. We have real problems. I need you to focus on recruiting new agents. S.H.I.E.L.D. is practically hollow."
Coulson nodded, but as he turned to leave, he paused.
"Director… are we really ending it here?"
He knew Nolan wasn't wrong. Eliminating terrorists wasn't a crime.
What troubled him was Nolan's attitude afterward.
He hadn't notified law enforcement.
He didn't follow protocol.
He handled everything alone and buried hundreds of bodies without blinking.
Even for a superhero, that level of independence bordered on frightening.
Fury was silent for a moment, then said quietly:
"I'll talk to him. Leave it to me."
Coulson nodded, though he suspected the director was only trying to calm him.
And honestly, this situation was nearly impossible to handle.
Nolan Locke had too much power.
After he left, Fury sighed.
He opened his desk drawer.
Inside was an old-fashioned pager the emergency communicator used to contact one specific person.
The indicator light blinked faintly, showing it had recently been activated.
Fury shut the drawer and looked out the window.
Nolan Locke was slipping out of control.
He needed to bring the situation back on track.
It was time for someone powerful enough to restrain Nolan to pay him a visit.
And that someone was not Steve Rogers.
It was the universe's strongest defender Carol Danvers, Captain Marvel.
If Earth had no one capable of stopping Nolan Locke… then he would bring someone who could.
Nolan, of course, had no idea Fury had just summoned Captain Marvel for a little "conversation."
At that moment, he was boarding a plane headed for Sokovia.
Sokovia was tiny, but significant in the Marvel world.
It produced Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver.
It suffered the catastrophe caused by Ultron.
And afterward, it inspired the Sokovia Accords that restricted enhanced individuals.
Nolan came to deal with Hydra.
If he was lucky, he might even meet Wanda and Pietro.
They were still young.
If he came across them, he wouldn't mind rescuing them from Hydra's control.
"Red Queen, what do you think about building a base here?"
Strolling through a street in Sokovia, Nolan suddenly asked.
The Red Queen immediately began calculating.
After a moment, she replied:
"Sir, due to years of conflict, Sokovia's economy is severely weakened. Based on my projections, building a base here would reduce labor costs by ninety-one percent, while transportation costs would increase by thirty-three point three percent."
"That cheap?"
Nolan was genuinely surprised.
He expected higher transport costs, but saving that much on labor was shocking.
Nine percent of New York costs wouldn't even buy a hamburger back home.
After a brief thought, he said:
"In that case, start preparations. Build a branch base here. And increase labor pay a little from nine percent to thirteen percent."
"Yes, sir."
The Red Queen didn't fully understand the decision, but she did not question it.
"Let's go. Time to meet Viper. I've kept her waiting."
Sokovia Mountains.
Viper stood with Baron Strucker, Hydra's local commander.
Strucker smirked when he saw her exhausted appearance.
Hydra was never united.
Every branch fought for its own power.
So while other divisions suffered losses, he felt nothing but satisfaction.
"Ophelia, you look terrible."
Viper shot him a seductive, venom-laced glance.
"Strucker, I didn't come here to exchange pleasantries."
"Of course."
He nodded.
"With Pierce dead, our political influence in America is collapsing. Their bases will be uncovered soon."
Strucker's tone carried a hint of cruel pleasure.
"Fortunately, our branch has no ties to the United States."
Viper's expression darkened. She swallowed the anger burning in her chest.
"Nolan Locke is not someone to provoke lightly. Most of our American bases have been exposed. I hope your people can handle the pressure."
Strucker chuckled.
"Ophelia, we are not like your soft, inexperienced recruits.
Everyone here is a true warrior. No one will dare lay a hand on you while I'm here."
"We'll see."
Viper said nothing more.
She glanced at the sky.
A full month had passed.
Yet Nolan Locke's shadow followed her everywhere. She didn't understand how he tracked her across borders.
This was Sokovia.
Surely she was safe here.
She had never feared anyone.
But Nolan Locke… gave her a feeling she hated.
A feeling that tasted like fear.
Then she looked at Strucker again, her crimson lips curling into a dangerously stunning smile.
If Nolan Locke wanted her so badly… let him come.
Her division had already been shredded.
It was only fair that others shared her misery.
The thought delighted her.
Her smile grew more wicked.
She embodied the words "beautiful and deadly."
And regardless of that danger, countless men still worshipped her.
Strucker reached out, fingers aiming for her chin.
She moved aside without breaking eye contact.
"Strucker, now is the time to strengthen security not to throw your life away."
Strucker's expression tightened, but he forced himself to withdraw.
There would be time later.
He wasn't worried.
After all, Viper was already in his hands.
He could wait.
…