The A.I.M. uniform itches like I'm wearing a beekeeper suit made of fiberglass, and the helmet smells like someone died in it. Maybe someone did. I'm trying not to think about that as Emma and I move through the hallway, our borrowed yellow hazmat suits making soft swishing sounds against the polished metal floors.
'Stay close,' Emma's voice slides into my mind.
I fight the urge to look at her. We're supposed to be A.I.M. goons, after all, not a nervous teenager on their first infiltration mission with his therapist. The weight of the gun holstered at my hip feels wrong, especially since I've never fired one before.
'Any sign of them?' I think back, still amazed at how natural telepathic communication feels after just a few minutes of practice.
'Nothing yet,' Emma replies. Her mental voice carries none of the flirtatious edge I've come to expect. She's all business now, and somehow that's more unnerving than her usual predatory purr.
We pass two more A.I.M. agents who barely glance our way. Their identical yellow suits make everyone look like interchangeable drones. It's perfect for infiltration, but it also means Scotty and Kitty could be any of these faceless figures walking past us.
'There,' Emma's thought cuts through mine, sharp with urgency. 'The elevator.'
At the end of the corridor stands a set of brushed steel doors, a keycard reader glowing red beside them. Two armed guards flank the entrance, their postures rigid with alertness despite their featureless helmets
'How do we get past them?' I wonder, trying not to slow my pace or give any indication that we're anything but ordinary workers.
'Just follow my lead,' Emma commands, her mental voice cool and precise.
We stride right toward the guards like we belong here, like we have every right to be at this elevator. My heart hammers so hard I'm sure they can hear it even through the stiff material.
We stop directly in front of the guards, and I brace myself for questions or demands for identification. But they just... stand there. One of them reaches into a pocket and silently hands Emma a key card. No words, no verification, nothing.
Emma takes it casually, like this happens every day, and swipes it through the reader. The light flicks from red to green with a soft beep that sounds impossibly loud in the tense silence.
The elevator doors slide open with a hydraulic hiss. We step inside, the guards remaining motionless as the doors close behind us.
'See how easy things are with telepathy?' Emma's smug voice fills my mind as she pockets the key card.
Emma's finger jabs at the only button on the elevator's control panel, sending us deeper into this bizarre beehive of evil science.
"That's a cool power you've got there, Emma."
'Correct.'
The elevator descends smoothly, the gentle hum of machinery filling the small space.
Just as the elevator starts to slow, Emma suddenly mutters, "Shit," under her breath.
"What?" I ask, my heart rate immediately spiking.
She shakes her head slightly, the movement barely visible through her helmet. "Just don't say anything," she whispers urgently.
The doors slide open with that same hydraulic hiss, and I freeze at the sight before us.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
Hovering in the center of a massive laboratory is what I can only describe as a giant head. Not a normal human head, this thing is the size of a small car, with tiny arms and legs protruding from it like afterthoughts. Its face is contorted in rage, eyes bulging behind thick glasses as it screams at a line of over a hundred A.I.M. soldiers standing at rigid attention before it.
"YOU'RE ALL IDIOTS!" the floating head-monster bellows, its voice surprisingly feminine despite its monstrous appearance. "WE NEED GOOD IDEAS! NOT BAD IDEAS! WE NEED TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO MAXIMIZE THE POTENTIAL OF THESE TWO PHOTOS!"
I can't tear my eyes away from this nightmare fuel.
'What the hell even is that?' I think desperately to Emma, hoping my mental voice isn't as panicked as I feel.
'MODOK,' she replies simply.
The creature, MODOK, suddenly swivels in mid-air, its beady eyes locking onto us as we step out of the elevator. My stomach drops to somewhere around my ankles.
"YOU! IN THE BACK!" She screeches, one tiny finger pointing directly at me.
My blood turns to ice. I can feel sweat beading on my forehead inside this stifling helmet.
'Just do whatever she says,' Emma's voice slices through my panic.
"Yes?"
"COME HERE!" MODOK bellows, and I swear I can feel the sound waves hitting my chest.
I glance desperately at Emma, who gives me the mental equivalent of a shove. 'Just go.'
My legs move automatically, carrying me forward through the ranks of yellow-suited soldiers who part like the Red Sea. Each step feels like I'm walking toward my execution. The giant floating head watches my approach with beady eyes that seem to dissect me molecule by molecule.
When I reach MODOK, she extends one of her weird, disproportionate arms. Her hand lands on my shoulder with surprising weight.
"YOU," she says, her voice slightly less deafening now that I'm right in front of her. "LOOK AT THIS."
She swivels in midair, pivoting us both toward a giant screen on the wall. Her stubby fingers jab at a control panel, and suddenly the screen flickers to life.
Two photos appear side by side. In the first, a woman in red and gold armor suit, her hand extended to shake with another woman. It takes me a second to process that I'm seeing Iron man… Iron Woman without her helmet, looking perfectly coiffed and professional. And she's shaking hands with... holy shit.
The other woman is unmistakable. She has that same evil smile, that same aura of wealth and corruption that I recognize from countless news stories back in my world. It's the female version of Jeffrey Epstein.
"Oh God…"
"I know… Sometimes I miss the island… Truly a shame about Epstiens passing…" Her eyes look nostalgic as she speaks.
The second photo shows Iron Woman again, clearly wasted. She's grinning stupidly, clutching a bottle of something. Beside her stands a Black woman wearing the gaudiest chain I've ever seen, with "Puff Mommy" spelled out in diamonds.
"What the fuck?" I blurt out before I can stop myself.
MODOK's massive head turns to me, and to my surprise, she lets out a deep chuckle that makes her whole body wobble in the air.
"I KNOW, RIGHT?" she cackles. "WE'VE GOT TONI STARK BY THE CUNT!" Her voice drops to what must be her version of a conspiratorial whisper. "But these IDIOTS and I don't know what to do with them."
I swallow hard. "Okay?"
"WHAT DO YOU DO HERE, ANYWAY?" she demands.
'Say intern,' Emma's voice slides into my mind.
"I'm an intern," I answer quickly.
MODOK pats my shoulder again.
"Ahhh, I get it," she says, her bulbous head bobbing slightly in the air. "Must be tough, being an intern. Always getting coffee, doing the grunt work." Her beady eyes narrow behind those thick glasses. "How about you take a crack at this? How do YOU think we could handle this situation?"
I freeze, feeling the weight of a hundred A.I.M. agents staring at me through their faceless helmets. My brain scrambles for something, anything that might sound plausible to a floating head monster.
"Uh..." I swallow hard, trying to sound confident. "I guess just upload them onto social media? Do you have any connections to like... I don't know, the departments of justice? Maybe have them release it?"
MODOK stares at me, her expression unreadable. I can feel sweat trickling down my spine inside this suffocating hazmat suit. Oh shit. I've blown our cover. We're going to die in this underwater lab, all because I couldn't come up with a decent blackmail strategy.
I panic.
"Maybe, I don't know, you could have like fake victims come out and say uhh... that Iron Woman did something to them? Maybe with her out of the picture… Maybe uhh… the Avengers might break up or something…" The words tumble out of my mouth before my brain can catch up.
MODOK's eyes go wide, nearly bulging out of her head.
"GENIUS!" she bellows, so loud I actually take a step back. "WE HAVE MEN SAY THEY WERE ASSAULTED AND IF THEY REFUSE WE KILL THEM! AND THEN THE AVENGERS WILL BREAK UP"
Jesus Christ. That escalated quickly.
MODOK spins in midair, facing her minions. "THIS is the kind of thinking we need!" She gestures wildly at me. "Not your pathetic suggestions about 'asking for money' or 'selling to competitors.' IMBECILES!"
She turns back to me, and I swear her face is attempting something like a smile. It's horrifying.
"Alright, intern," she sighs happily, her voice dropping to what must be her version of a normal speaking volume. "I'd like to hire you. Maybe give you a position here. You seem like an ideas guy, and I don't have enough of those."
"Oh, uhh, no thanks," I stammer, feeling like I've just been offered a position in hell. "I'm just, uhh, someone doing this for college credit?"
MODOK just nods her big head, which makes her entire body wobble in the air like some nightmarish bobblehead.
"Ahh, fair enough," she says, sounding genuinely disappointed. Then she taps her stomach with her teeny hands, making a sound like seal slapping its wet belly. "I'M HUNGRY AND IT'S PRACTICALLY NAP TIME!"
Just like that, MODOK starts floating away from me, her giant head drifting toward a doorway on the far side of the lab that looks specially designed to accommodate her bizarre proportions.
"Good job, intern!" she calls over her shoulder.
I'm about to breathe a sigh of relief when one of the yellow-suited soldiers steps forward, raising a hand like we're in some twisted classroom.
"Wait, Ma'am!" the soldier calls out.
MODOK stops mid-float, her massive head turning slowly back toward us. "What?" she demands, irritation dripping from that single syllable.
The soldier shifts uncomfortably. "What about the terabytes of video we have of Quicksilver getting fucked by her brother, the Scarlet Warlock?"
My jaw drops inside my helmet. What the actual fuck is happening here?
MODOK waves one tiny hand dismissively. "We'll figure it out later," she says, then continues floating away until she disappears through the oversized doorway.
I stand frozen for a moment, surrounded by a sea of identical goons, my brain trying desperately to process what I just heard. Incest?
The soldiers begin to disperse, breaking formation now that MODOK has left. I take this as my cue to retreat back to Emma, who's still standing by the elevator.
'Holy shit, did you hear all that?' I think at her as I approach, keeping my movements casual despite my internal freakout.
'Every disturbing word,' Emma's voice slides into my mind, cool and composed as ever. 'You handled that remarkably well, Jack. I'm genuinely impressed.'
Her praise sends an unexpected wave of warmth through me. 'Really?'
'Absolutely. Quick thinking, plausible responses, and you didn't give yourself away even when faced with... whatever MODOK is.'