Watching Venom cower so obediently, Ethan snorted coldly. He sealed the metal container shut, gripped it firmly in the Hulkbuster's massive hand, and ignited the thrusters beneath his feet. Blue flames burst forth as he shot up toward the narrow, snow-gray sky above the canyon.
He hadn't caught this alien mutt to keep it as a pet—or to let it bond with him.
The Venom of the mainline Earth-616 universe had already possessed an absurd variety of hosts: aliens, humans, Peter Parker, a mouse, even Deadpool. There was practically nothing it wouldn't try to attach itself to.
This Wasteland Universe version was likely even worse—after decades of surviving down here, who knew what filth it had merged with? Maybe those unwashed Morlocks, maybe something even dirtier.
And the corruption wasn't just physical—it was psychological.
Many scholars believed that a symbiote amplified its host's inner darkness and violent impulses. But the reverse was also true: a host's negativity could twist the symbiote's own mind, warping its morality.
Once that vicious feedback loop began, both host and symbiote spiraled into mutual corruption—a "bad made worse" cycle with no way out.
Still, Venom wasn't entirely useless. In extreme medical emergencies, it could be employed to suppress cancer, devouring malignant cells to delay the disease's progression. It had once done exactly that—for the sake of its favorite human host, Eddie Brock.
Ethan, however, had no intention of relying on it that way.
Not only because the regenerative serum he'd injected during the Zombie Universe expedition had already bought him time…
He squinted through the armor's helmet as the flying craft grew closer.
…but because he now knew how to cure cancer completely.
Outside the Weapon X Factory, the wind howled and snow swept across the barren tundra in thick, swirling sheets.
Two soldiers in heavy coats stood guard at the factory entrance, their rifles slung awkwardly over their shoulders.
They hadn't been soldiers originally. Before Baron Zemo's death, they'd merely been janitors. But when all of Hydra's troops perished with their commander, the two were hastily drafted, given uniforms, and taught the bare minimum of guard duty.
"How's it looking, Paul? Anything out there?" the man on the right asked quietly.
Paul pursed his lips and squinted into the blizzard. "Can't see a damn thing. This snow's too thick."
"Yeah," the other muttered, stomping his boots for warmth. "Can't wait for shift change. My toes are frozen."
Neither of them had wanted this job in the first place—but when that old man with the bow handed them a wad of cash... Well, it was hard to say no.
He'd paid them triple their janitor salaries—and, more importantly, promised not to treat them like Hydra's disposable lab rats.
Then, through the roar of the storm, a faint thud reached their ears—a heavy impact somewhere out in the snow. Muffled, but distinct.
Paul's pulse quickened. "Did you hear that?"
He'd been trained to shoot, to stand guard—but he'd never seen real combat.
"Probably just the wind," his partner muttered uneasily.
But before they could reassure themselves, a dim blue glow appeared through the snowstorm, growing brighter with each passing second. A slow, rhythmic thoom... thoom... followed—mechanical footsteps, far too heavy to be human.
The two men exchanged terrified looks and gripped their rifles tighter.
Out of the blizzard emerged a towering shape of red and gold metal, over three meters tall. One massive arm dragged a gleaming slab of metal—the Vibranium Gate—and the other clutched a sealed container.
Steam hissed from its armor vents, melting snow wherever it landed.
The two guards stood frozen. They had seen silhouettes before, but nothing prepared them for the sheer presence of the thing now before them.
"W-what… what is that?" one stammered, his voice trembling. He nearly dropped his gun.
He'd grown up in a small Florida town once ruled by the Lizard—hardly a place where superhero culture survived. For a man whose greatest ambition had been to make rent, the Hulkbuster was nothing short of divine.
Paul's teeth chattered as he raised his gun another inch, forcing himself forward half a step. "Who are you? Identify yourself!" he demanded, his voice cracking halfway through.
At least, in his mind, he thought he sounded authoritative.
Before he could faint from sheer panic, a small, boxy robot floated out from behind the armor—round body, square head, glowing yellow pixel-eyes flickering with curiosity.
"Attention, soldiers," it said crisply.
The armor's head segment lifted open, revealingEthan beneath the Magneto helmet. His expression was unreadable as his gaze swept over the two trembling men.
Both guards froze in shock. Then one of them gasped aloud, lowering his weapon immediately.
"Y-you're… Mr.Ethan!" he stammered. Awe and fear mingled in his tone.
After Hawkeye's team had left the base, Walter had printed out hundreds ofEthan's photos, distributing them to every surviving worker so that everyone would recognize their new commander.
The soldier even had one folded in his pocket right now.
"Do you—uh, need me to carry that for you, sir?" Paul asked nervously, pointing at the metal box in the armor's hand.
"That won't be necessary,"Ethan replied coolly. "Just open the gate, then return to your post."
He strode forward. Helby—the hovering robot—circled the guards once, scanning them curiously before following.
The heavy Vibranium Gate left a deep gouge in the snow as the Hulkbuster dragged it inside.
The massive doors creaked open. Ethan and Helby entered the spacious factory corridor, wide enough to accommodate even the armor's bulk and its burden.
As the doors sealed behind them, one of the guards finally exhaled, wiping sweat from his brow despite the freezing air.
"Did you see that?" he said, voice trembling with lingering excitement. "I'd bet that metal monster could tear this whole factory apart in minutes!"
Paul swallowed hard, nodding. "Yeah… good thing he's on our side."
Then, after a pause, he frowned, eyes following the faint light whereEthan had disappeared.
"No," he said thoughtfully. "It's better to say—we're on his side."
Visit my patreon for more chapters
Advance 30+ Chapters Available
patreon.com/WhiteDevil7554