The Blackwood Estate, London
Kerry stood at attention in the study, a ledger in his hand.
"The scientists from Hydra are settled on the island, Master Ernst," Kerry reported.
"We have them compartmentalized. Rocketry, biology, energy. They are working under the assumption that if they stop, the Americans will find them. Fear is a powerful motivator."
"Excellent," Ernst nodded, sipping his tea.
"Keep them frightened. Keep them working. What about the other anomalies?"
Kerry flipped a page.
"Skull Island. We narrowed the coordinates to the South Pacific, west of Sumatra. But the perpetual storm system is impenetrable. We lost two surveillance drones. It's a dead zone."
"Leave it," Ernst ordered.
"King Kong isn't going anywhere. We will return when we have satellites. Next."
"Wakanda," Kerry said, his tone shifting to dismissal.
"We made diplomatic overtures as you requested. They are... primitive. Xenophobic. They claim to be simple shepherds, but our geologists confirm massive Vibranium deposits. Master, with your permission, I can assemble a mercenary force. We could seize the mines in a week. They are fighting with spears."
Ernst laughed, a cold, sharp sound.
"Spears? Kerry, if you march an army into Wakanda, they won't even find your bodies."
"Sir?"
"Do not mistake isolation for weakness," Ernst warned.
"They are hiding something. I sense... a technological disparity. We do not invade. We trade. Offer them medical supplies, food, and information. Kill them with kindness. If they refuse, we wait. Do not provoke the Panther."
Kerry looked confused but bowed.
"As you wish. No invasion."
After Kerry left, Ernst retreated to his lab.
He hooked himself up to the EEG monitor.
Brain Capacity: 28.4%.
It was rising too fast.
The CPH4 combined with the Reality Stone's residue was pushing his evolution into overdrive.
Ernst looked at his hand. He didn't feel fear anymore.
He didn't feel much of anything.
His emotions were being overwritten by pure, cold logic.
'If I hit 30%, I start losing my humanity,' Ernst calculated.
'I become a machine. I need to offload the processing power.'
He needed a supercomputer to act as an external hard drive for his consciousness, a regulator to handle the overflow.
But 1940s technology was vacuum tubes and punch cards. It was useless.
He needed alien tech.
Krypton, Ernst thought.
In this merged universe, if Wonder Woman existed, so did Kryptonians.
And thousands of years ago, a Kryptonian Scout Ship had crashed in the ice.
It contained the Genesis Chamber and a sentient AI.
"Azazel," Ernst called out.
"Pack the thermal gear. We are going to the bottom of the world."
-----------
Antarctica
The wind howled across the ice sheet, screaming at sixty miles per hour.
Ernst and Azazel appeared in the white void.
"This is the first search zone," Ernst shouted over the wind.
"Unload the gear."
Azazel opened a portal, dumping crates of equipment onto the ice.
Ernst didn't use tools. He extended his hand, his eyes glowing blue.
With telekinetic precision, he lifted the components into the air.
Metal fused with metal. Wires wove themselves together.
In minutes, a massive dish antenna stood on the ice, humming with power.
"The Resonance Scanner," Ernst explained.
"It searches for non-terrestrial alloys and specific energy signatures. It's a metal detector for spaceships."
He sat in the control chair, jacking the cables directly into his neural interface suit.
Scan initiated.
His mind expanded, sweeping across the frozen continent.
He saw through the ice, miles down.
He saw bedrock, fossils, and ancient bacteria.
But no ship.
"Nothing in Zone 1," Ernst sighed, disconnecting.
"It's going to be a long month."
"At least we eat well," Azazel said, setting up a high-tech thermal tent nearby.
"Steak?"
They fell into a routine.
Every morning, they teleported from the luxury of the London manor to the freezing hell of Antarctica.
They scanned a sector, found nothing, ate lunch, scanned again, and teleported home for dinner.
It was the ultimate commute.
------
Author's Note:
"Ernst is playing this world like an open-world RPG map.
Skull Island: 'Too many bugs. Skip.'
Wakanda: 'High-level zone. Do not aggro the NPCs.'
Antarctica: 'Hidden Loot detected. Fast Travel engaged.'
The fact that he uses Azazel as a glorious Uber service to commute to the South Pole is peak laziness and peak genius combined. Why camp in the snow when you have a mansion in London?"