Inside the Hawke Group's private combat lab hidden beneath a skyscraper in Midtown Manhattan Aiden Cross stood calmly at the center of a reinforced chamber, his breath steady as bullets screamed through the air.
His pupils flickered with a faint golden light.
With a flick of his fingers, the high-velocity projectiles abruptly twisted mid-air and scattered like leaves in the wind. The last bullet he caught mid-flight, pinching it between his thumb and index finger, then letting it fall slowly to the floor with a clink.
Ever since summoning Alex Hassell, the psychotic Invisible Man from another universe, Aiden had begun absorbing fragments of his abilities. Not just invisibility, but also enhanced spatial awareness and tactile perception. Combined with the telekinetic gifts obtained from Andre's summoning, Aiden was quickly becoming a one-man battalion capable of standing toe-to-toe with powered exosuits and even prototype sentinels.
Behind the reinforced glass, researchers in lab coats whispered as they compiled data.
Aiden stepped out of the chamber, sweat glistening faintly across his jawline. A technician handed him a preliminary report on his combat potential. He glanced through the figures, nodded, then turned to his ever-present AI-enhanced butler.
"Master Cross," the butler said respectfully, "the board is convening. Immediate attendance is required."
"Understood," Aiden replied coolly, brushing the dust from his sleeves.
The black luxury vehicle cut silently through the city, its windows tinted with anti-surveillance tech. Aiden stared out at the gleaming skyline of New York a city that worshipped Stark, yet had no idea the man had vanished without a trace.
Stark Industries… still the shining pillar of innovation. But once Tony's legacy crumbles, who will inherit the pieces?
Hawke Group was a global titan in consumer tech and biotech. But in a world of Iron Men and alien invasions, soap and smartphones wouldn't cut it. That's why he'd formed Umbrella, his shadow company run under the leadership of Albert Wesker focused purely on weapons R&D and advanced bioengineering.
The boardroom smelled like old money and expensive paranoia.
Aiden took his seat at the head of the table. Aging executives and institutional investors lined both sides. Among them, Rick Heim, a major shareholder and thinly veiled opportunist, cleared his throat.
"The stock price of Stark Industries continues to fall," Rick said. "Now's our chance. We propose redirecting funds from Hawke Group to acquire shares in Stark."
Aiden said nothing. His eyes moved slowly across the table. Some of these men had already sold their loyalty to Obadiah Stane, Stark's long-time business partner now puppetmaster-in-chief of the company.
They wanted to take advantage of Stark's disappearance? That was fine. But they didn't understand the real game.
Aiden didn't need Stark's stock.
He wanted Stark's research division. Especially the engineers and defense scientists behind the Jericho Missile and the Arc Reactor prototypes. That department would quietly be absorbed into Umbrella, far from the public eye.
The so-called "Superhero Project" he was planning required absolute discretion and Stark's bleeding-edge tech.
"This plan of yours…" Aiden's voice sliced through the room. "…to use group equity and liquid assets to play hero in a collapsing empire?"
He gestured, and a team of Umbrella operatives entered, silently distributing folders across the table.
"These documents detail an alternative initiative," Aiden said. "Including projected dividends, private equity leverage, and the strategic migration of defense R&D assets into controlled subsidiaries."
The room fell into silence as they flipped pages.
"If any of you wish to exit the board and partner with Stane," Aiden continued coldly, "you may cash out. I'll even verify the shares myself. Just know what you're giving up."
Rick Heim spoke again, slower this time. "But… our combined shares could "
"You're pawns," Aiden cut in sharply. "Stane is using you to build his power base. None of you are innovators. You're leeches, desperate to sit at the adult table."
The word idiots hung unspoken but heavy in the air.
And yet, Aiden wasn't angry. On the contrary, he felt vindicated.
This confirmed his intel: Obadiah Stane had promised these men backdoor shares and influence in exchange for helping him tighten his grip on Stark Industries. They were disposable pieces in a corporate chess game they didn't even understand.
He leaned back in his chair and gave a thin smile.
"Go ahead," he said softly. "Buy the stock. Just remember Umbrella doesn't sell. We absorb."
Several shareholders paled.
Others smiled greedily.
Rick Heim glanced at the door as if expecting it to swing open with news that Stark had returned. But there was no Iron Man today. Just a young mastermind building an empire behind curtains of legal paperwork and summoned villains.
As Aiden stood to leave, the butler approached once more. "Sir. Wesker has secured control of the Applied Ballistics division."
"Good. Prepare Phase 2 of the plan. And notify our friends in Sokovia we'll be needing their discretion soon."
Outside, New York glittered under the sun.
Soon, this city would become a battlefield between ideals and ambition. And when the dust settled, Aiden Cross would be the architect standing above them all.
The foolish shareholders short-sighted, greedy, and easy to manipulate wouldn't hinder Aiden Cross's true plans. They would simply cash out, content with their payouts, never realizing the stage they'd been pushed off of.
Though Aiden wore a mask of indifference, his heart bubbled with amusement.
Clowns, he thought, observing their smug expressions.
Perfect. Let them think they've won. A three-way benefit: they get their money, Obadiah gets his puppets, and I get full control.
Yes, their departure might trigger a drop in Hawke Group's market value temporarily. But public perception wasn't his goal power was.
Glancing at the few remaining board members, Aiden leaned forward.
"What about you?" he asked flatly. "Any plans to sell off your shares too?"
The remaining shareholders quickly shook their heads. Hawke Group was still highly profitable backed by both legitimate business ventures and covert R&D. Only an idiot would sell unless they had a guaranteed, higher-tier fallback.
After the meeting, Aiden boarded his customized transport and headed to the one place that felt truly his: Umbrella Corporation.
Though technically a separate entity, Umbrella was his real fortress. A black-ops think tank built under corporate camouflage and powered by Wesker's brutal efficiency. Even in the Marvel Universe, the name "Umbrella" now carried dark rumors bioengineering, synthetic viruses, and whispers of clandestine experiments.
Behind the scenes, Aiden had bankrolled it all. Wesker brought the fists and Aiden provided the direction. Dozens had been silenced to make Umbrella's foundation stable. In the shadows of New York's underworld, nothing valuable came without a trail of blood.
Umbrella's early days had been brutal. Though Wesker's mind brimmed with dangerous science, he lacked talent sourcing and equipment access. So they took what they needed by force.
And despite the chaos, Aiden was satisfied. Wesker remained reliable, efficient, and loyal a genuine villain with executive potential.
Andre, by contrast, stood off to the side like a scolded child.
The lesson from Wesker's last "training session" had clearly stuck.
Aiden entered the lab as Wesker approached with a tablet and two black files. "Here," he said, handing over the documents. "Personnel acquisition progress and updated Ouroboros virus data."
The acquisition file detailed Aiden's ongoing plan: target the displaced weapons engineers and scientists from Stark Industries' now-restructured R&D division. Stark's pivot to clean energy had left many employees in limbo. Aiden intended to pull them into Umbrella's fold quietly.
As for the second file…
"Ouroboros," Wesker said.
Aiden raised a brow.
The Ouroboros Virus originally from the Resident Evil universe had been fused from the T-Virus, G-Virus, and Las Plagas parasite. In this version, it had been refined as a potential transhuman upgrade… though "refined" was generous.
The virus's effects were violent and gene-dependent. Only genetically superior hosts could survive the transformation; others became hulking, tentacled horrors.
The lab team was attempting a reverse-dissect splitting Ouroboros into its root components for controlled use. Results had been… messy. Still, Aiden knew: time and resources would solve that.
He skimmed the acquisition files.
Promising. Once these ex-Stark engineers join us, we'll have the expertise to push beyond even S.H.I.E.L.D.'s threshold.
Aiden turned his gaze to Andre, who shifted nervously. It was time for phase two: image crafting.
"Let's take this public. Build a new 'superhero team.' Push Andre, the Invisible Man, and one more as a trio. Sell them to the world as protectors. All smoke and mirrors, of course."
He picked up a mocked-up media profile. The first was for the Invisible Man now stylized as a classic masked vigilante in interviews:
The Invisible Man is a mysterious hero with the power of invisibility and sound suppression. Once an ordinary scientist, he gained his abilities after an experiment went awry. Using his gifts for stealth, espionage, and close-quarters combat, he now works from the shadows, protecting the innocent and uncovering hidden threats.
Aiden smirked.
That manipulative bastard is anything but a hero, he thought.
He flipped to the second sheet Andre's cover identity: "Sonny," the telekinetic boy wonder.
Originally an ordinary high school student, Sonny awakened the power of telekinesis after exposure to an unknown cosmic force. Capable of shaping reality, manipulating mass, and countering even energy-based attacks, Sonny is a symbol of youthful courage, fighting back against injustice in a complicated world.
With bravery and heart, Sonny reminds us that the future of heroism lies in the hands of the next generation.
Aiden burst into laughter. He doubled over, unable to contain himself.
"Hahahaha… this this is priceless," he choked out, staring directly at Andre, who was now red with shame.
Andre scratched his head. "Boss… I… this wasn't my idea."
Aiden grinned. "I know. That's what makes it even better. You pretending to be an idol for kids? You, of all people?"
Andre looked like he wanted to vanish into the wall.
His past was less than heroic petty theft, back-alley fights, and a record sealed only because of Aiden's intervention. He knew this and judging by Aiden's grin, his boss hadn't forgotten a single bit of it.
"Anyway what about the Invisible Man?" Aiden asked, wiping a tear from his eye.
Andre hesitated. "Uh… in a bit of a collision."
Aiden raised an eyebrow.
"He… tried to sneak into a female locker room at a press event."
Aiden sighed, rubbing his temples. "Of course he did."
He glanced back at the superhero files.
Fiction sells better than truth. And if I can sell a lie loud enough, I won't need to fight the Avengers. I'll just beat them at PR first.