Early morning in Manhattan.
The streets of New York pulsed with energy cars bumper to bumper, horns blaring in frustration, and pedestrians flowing across sidewalks like tidal currents. When the red light flared, engines rumbled impatiently. When it turned green, steel and rubber surged forward in unison. This was Midtown a city that never rested, never slowed, and never forgave.
And up in one of the tallest towers overlooking the chaos, Aiden Cross sat back in a custom-built leather chair, sipping from a cup of oolong milk tea, utterly unfazed.
Inside the sleek office of Cross Industries, everything radiated luxury and power. Holographic monitors floated silently in the air, quietly processing stock movements, Stark Tech news, and encrypted files from the remnants of Oscorp.
Beep.
A soft chime sounded as the wall-mounted scanner recognized the approaching figure.
Then, without warning, Andre floated in through the air like a human cannonball, crashing onto the designer sofa like it was his personal crash pad.
"All I'm saying is it was f***ing awesome," Andre moaned with satisfaction, eyes half-closed in bliss.
Hair tousled, shirt halfway unbuttoned, the guy looked like he'd just escaped from a superhero-themed rave.
Aiden didn't even blink. "You smell like you stole perfume from a nightclub."
Andre waved him off, eyes gleaming. "Bro. It's New York. It's Marvel New York. I could party with mutants, Skrulls, or hell Dazzler, if she's performing again."
He slumped deeper into the cushions, grinning. "Sleep all morning. Wake up. Work some roles. Hit the nightlife. Repeat. It's the good life."
"Until I called you back."
Andre's face twisted in a mock pout. "You really ruined my momentum, you know."
Aiden sipped his tea in silence. He wasn't going to dignify that with a reply. He simply glanced at the massive window beside him, watching as a Stark drone zipped through the skyline.
Andre had changed since his summoning.
When Aiden had first pulled him from his original world, he'd been a bloody, half-broken mess. Torn clothes. Rage in his eyes. Pride that refused to kneel even when it should've saved him.
Wesker had personally taken him to Umbrella HQ, rebuilt now as a covert medical facility under Cross Industries. With his powers re-stabilized, Andre's attitude… evolved.
Or regressed.
Behind the cool confidence was a simple truth: Andre was a former otaku-turned-superpowered juggernaut with zero self-control. A living power fantasy gone rogue. His rise had been meteoric and his fall, inevitable. Unchecked freedom had shattered his old world.
And the first thing he said after recovering?
"I want a woman."
That's when Aiden realized discipline would be essential. Wesker had taught him that lesson with a precision strike to the ego and a few ribs.
Since then, Andre had behaved… mostly.
"So today's the big day?" Andre asked, snapping his fingers. A sealed cup of milk tea from the console floated into his hand via telekinesis.
"Don't get in the way," Aiden said without looking up.
"I get it, I get it," Andre said, raising his hands. "You're making friends. And if they misbehave, I'll just help break them in."
Aiden stood and moved toward the far wall of the office. He tapped two fingers against the smooth surface.
The wall split open silently, revealing an elevator shaft hidden behind a reflective panel. Without another word, Aiden stepped inside. Andre followed, slurping noisily.
The elevator plunged deep underground.
Below Cross Tower, in the secured summoning chamber, Aiden activated the glyph array a hexagram etched with vibranium wiring and laced with gamma-filter shielding, salvaged from one of Banner's destroyed labs.
Light pulsed from the center of the floor.
Andre's eyes widened. "Here we go again…"
And then silence.
The summoning field faded, the glow dimmed, and nothing stood in the center.
"…Did it fail?" Andre asked, squinting. "Did you just summon air?"
Aiden didn't answer. He simply looked forward, calm as ever.
Andre frowned. "Where's the guy?"
"In front of you," Aiden replied flatly.
Andre blinked. "The hell you mean 'in front' there's nothing there."
"Use telekinesis. Spread it outward. Let the force feedback reveal inconsistencies."
Annoyed but obedient, Andre expanded his psionic field. Within moments, it collided with something off an unnatural distortion in the air.
"There," he pointed instinctively. "Right there."
A voice answered.
"Uh… hi."
The air shimmered and then materialized.
Naked, awkward, and clearly caught off guard, a man stood before them.
The Invisible Man. One of the seven core members of the Black Robe Patrol a universe where morality had long since been shattered. His ability to vanish in the material world made him a voyeur, a predator, and a quiet threat in his own domain.
His real name? Unknown. But in this world, Aiden had already prepared one for him.
"You'll be known as Alex Hassell," Aiden said coldly. "You'll be briefed."
Alex looked uneasy, covering himself awkwardly. If he had appeared in front of a woman, he would've flexed shamelessly. But in front of Aiden?
He looked like he was facing Homelander.
They returned to the upper floors in silence.
After dressing in the formal suit prepared for him, Alex sat quietly, fidgeting. He stole a glance at Andre, who looked bored. Then, he cautiously looked at Aiden, whose eyes flicked toward him like a scalpel.
"Generally speaking," Aiden said slowly, "I'm easy to work with."
Alex flinched like a trained dog. PTSD kicked in hard. The mental image of lasers erupting from Aiden's eyes courtesy of too much time watching the Boys universe was burned into his brain.
"I-I'm the Invisible Man," Alex stammered. "I turn invisible. Surprise."
And just to prove it, he vanished, then reappeared nervously.
Aiden offered him a milk tea. "Drink it."
"Thank you, boss." Alex took it like it was a sacred relic, then sipped cautiously and sat up straight.
"Jenny will show you around," Aiden said, pressing a comm button.
A tall, striking woman entered. Elegant, poised, with the aura of someone who probably ran half of Cross Tower without being asked.
"Boss?"
"Alex is new. Make sure he understands the rules."
"Of course." Jenny smiled and waved Alex over.
"Thank you, boss!" Alex's eyes followed her curves with hungry reverence.
Suddenly agony.
A sharp psychic stab pierced his brain like a needle. He glanced at Aiden and froze.
Those eyes. That chill.
"Don't touch anyone in this building," Aiden said, sipping his milk tea. "Speak with Andre later about… alternatives."
Alex bowed immediately, humbled. "Understood."
After they left, Andre started to sneak toward the exit.
"You're not done," Aiden said without turning.
A moment later, Andre was flung across the combat lab, blood dripping from his lip as he slammed into the wall.
Aiden descended slowly, his aura calm but merciless.
"Your awareness, control, and perception are garbage."
Andre coughed. "I "
"I told you to use telekinesis. But mental force would've spotted him faster. You know why I gave you the wrong command?"
Andre shook his head.
"I don't care. You're going to Umbrella HQ. Wesker will train you. I'll assign you a sparring partner later."
He turned and walked out.
Later, in a private lounge at the Hammer Tower, Aiden faced Justin Hammer, who looked giddy.
"Stark's gone!" Hammer cried, slapping a newspaper across the table.
"Tony Stark Disappeared Without a Trace."
"I'm buying the whole company! The shares, the tech hell, even the coffee machines!"
"You think his godfather will allow that?" Aiden asked coldly. "Or the board?"
"I'll tank the stock until they beg to sell." Hammer grinned like a madman.
"You're not the only one making moves."
Aiden's words made Hammer freeze, then burst into laughter again.
"Fine! I'll play it smarter." He popped a lollipop into his mouth. "Hammer Industries is launching a new missile."
He paused dramatically.
"I call it the Ex-Wife."
As they drove through New York, Aiden looked at the towers, the people, the chaos.
No one knew that soon, this city would become a battlefield.
Once Iron Monger comes online, everything begins.
The plan is already moving.
Project: Supervillain.
Andre. Alex. Wesker.
And Aiden Cross, the architect of shadows.
After a while, a tall and elegant woman walked into the office of Aiden Cross. Her long legs and confident smile could've graced the cover of Forbes or Vogue.
"Boss, what do you need me to do?" she asked cheerfully.
"Jenny," Aiden said with a calm nod. "This is our new recruit, Alex. Walk him through the orientation protocols. I want him integrated into the team before end of day."
Jenny gave a polished nod. "Of course. Alex, come with me." She turned, her long coat swaying behind her like a cape.
The Invisible Man now going by the alias Alex Hassell stared at Jenny's retreating figure, his expression shifting from curiosity to something more indecent.
Crack!
A sharp psychic pulse hit him square in the temple.
Alex turned instantly. Aiden Cross hadn't moved, but the air had shifted. His eyes cold, calculating, predator-like locked on him with silent menace.
"Employees of Hawke Group are off-limits," Aiden said quietly, his tone flat. "If you need to let loose, talk to Andre later."
Alex's throat tightened. He understood the message: one more misstep, and he wouldn't walk out of the room.
He bowed quickly, murmured a quiet "Yes, boss," and followed Jenny out.
Andre, still slouched nearby, tried to sneak toward the exit.
Aiden didn't even look at him.
"Not so fast."
That voice. Cold enough to freeze the symbiote off Venom. Andre froze, spine stiff.
In the subterranean training facility of Hawke Group, metallic walls hummed with energy. Tech stolen from Hammer Industries, Oscorp schematics, and even stolen Wakandan fragments powered the space.
Andre was thrown hard against the vibranium-reinforced wall. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
Aiden slowly descended from the elevated platform, hands behind his back like an instructor at Xavier's School but far less forgiving.
"Your mental awareness is garbage," Aiden said flatly. "Telekinesis? Weak. Combat awareness? Sloppy."
Andre panted, wiping blood from his jaw. He didn't respond. He didn't dare.
"I asked you to find Alex using telekinesis not because it was the best way, but to test if your instincts were evolving. You failed."
Aiden's tone was clinical, not angry. That made it worse.
"You want to play among gods in this world?" Aiden continued. "Then stop acting like a background extra."
Andre bowed his head, still breathing heavily.
"Get to Umbrella. Wesker will grind the trash out of you. And I'll line up an opponent that doesn't care how many steroids you've taken."
Aiden turned and walked toward the exit, boots clicking with precision.
Andre coughed. "Y-Yes, boss."
A suited butler stepped forward as Aiden approached the elevator. "Sir, a message from Justin Hammer. He's requested an audience. Sent via direct line."
Aiden gave a nod. "Let's go."
Hammer Group Tower, Midtown Manhattan
"Haha! Look who the wind dragged in!" Justin Hammer spread his arms wide, the definition of theatrical sleaze in a designer suit. "The mysterious head of Hawke Group, Aiden Cross."
Aiden didn't waste time. "What do you want?"
Hammer's face broke into a grin as he slammed a newspaper onto the desk. The headline stretched across the front page like a nuclear detonation:
"SHOCKING: Tony Stark, Genius of the Century, Vanishes Without a Trace!"
Justin tapped the paper like it was a winning lottery ticket.
"This is our moment, Aiden. Stark's empire is vulnerable. I'm going in. Full takeover."
"You think Obadiah Stane will let you?" Aiden asked coolly. "The board hates you. You're not even in the top five candidates."
"I'll tank the market. Drive Stark shares down, buy low. You're a player too. Don't act like you're not circling."
Aiden didn't reply.
"Look, every big dog is making moves. Fisk. Osborn. Even Trask is in play. Stark's absence has triggered a corporate war. And you you haven't made your move yet."
Aiden just smiled, faintly.
Justin laughed. "There it is. You're gonna tear the whole board down, huh?"
"The board?" Aiden replied. "I'm flipping the whole table."
Hammer let out a cackle. "Well damn. Then I'm in. Let's wreck the market together." He peeled open a designer Cuban lollipop and popped it into his mouth.
"My Hammer Group's gonna unveil a new missile. Better than anything Stark made."
"Let me guess," Aiden said dryly. "The 'Ex-Wife.'"
"Exactly!"
Back in the hover car, Aiden stared out the tinted glass as the skyscrapers passed by.
New York. Gleaming. Buzzing. Blissfully unaware that in just a few years, it would become ground zero for alien invasions, robot uprisings, and secret wars.
But that was fine. That chaos was part of the plan.
He didn't need to save the world.
He needed to own it.
Project: Supervillain Initiative in motion.
Andre. Alex. Soon, more.
From this point forward, the Marvel Universe wouldn't belong to heroes.
It would belong to Aiden Cross.