"Motherfucker!" Nick Fury's fist slammed onto the holotable aboard the Helicarrier, the impact echoing through the bridge like a gunshot. "Who exactly is he? What is he doing—putting on a damn variety show?"
"Director," a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent said, frantically adjusting his glasses as he tracked a dozen different data feeds. "Whoever he is, he's powerful. Insanely powerful. And... well, look at the public's reaction. We can't suppress the feed. It's everywhere."
Fury turned his one good eye toward the wall of monitors. Every major news network was broadcasting the same thing.
"...We're seeing it live, folks! An unbelievable scene in Midtown! This mysterious figure—is he really Superman? He just vaporized a Leviathan with his bare hands!"
"Look at that cape! Is he a new government operative? A secret Avenger?"
"Mom! It's him! It's really him!" a child's voice screamed through a shaky cell phone upload on social media.
The cheers of the people weren't just audible; they were infectious. The fear that had gripped Manhattan minutes ago was being replaced by a frantic, hysterical hope.
[Ding! Popularity Value: +501]
[Ding! Popularity Value: +442]
[Ding! Popularity Value: +641]
[Current Popularity: 150,124]
[Region Status: Making a Name!]
[Strength Increased! Heat Vision Temperature Increased!]
Mason Vance felt the surge—a rush of raw, unadulterated power that felt better than any drug, any standing ovation, or any Academy Award. It was a physical hum in his bones, a warmth that made him feel like the sun was trapped in his chest. He almost groaned in pure, sensory comfort.
The battle raged on, but the narrative had shifted.
With the addition of this "star-spangled" powerhouse, the Chitauri invasion force was no longer an unstoppable tide. They were being suppressed, bullied, and systematically dismantled. To the Chitauri, he was a nightmare; to the world, he was a red-and-blue bolt of lightning weaving through the smoke.
But Mason wasn't just fighting. He was performing.
Every punch was delivered with the perfect, cinematic posture—shoulders back, chin tucked, jaw set. Every Heat Vision blast was a calculated display of surgical precision, leaving glowing, cauterized edges on alien hulls. Every rescue was timed for the absolute last second, maximizing the psychological impact on the survivors.
He saw a commuter bus trapped in the shadow of a tilting skyscraper. The glass was shattering under the pressure of falling debris.
With a sonic boom that shattered the remaining windows on the block, Mason appeared instantly atop the bus. He reached up with a single hand.
CRUNCH.
He caught a ten-ton slab of reinforced concrete as if it were a frisbee.
"Oh my God..." a woman inside the bus whispered, her face pressed against the glass.
Above them, framed against the smoke-choked sky, Mason looked like a god who had descended specifically for them. His star-spangled cape snapped majestically in the wind, a perfect visual anchor for their salvation.
He didn't just hold the slab; he looked down through the bus window and gave a small, reassuring wink to a terrified child in the third row.
"Wow..." the boy breathed.
"He saved us! He really saved us!"
"Get a picture! Post it! Go live on Facebook!"
The crowd erupted. Phones, DSLR cameras, news drones—every lens in a five-block radius was trained on him.
That's it... just like that, Mason thought greedily, his heart racing with the thrill of the spotlight. Look at me. Worship me. I'm the only thing between you and the grave.
[Ding! Popularity Value: +550]
[Ding! Popularity Value: +601]
[Ding! Popularity Value: +666]
[Current Popularity: 170,124]
He casually tossed the ten-ton slab toward a Chitauri squad like he was throwing out the trash, then banked into a sharp, elegant climb, searching for his next "shot."
He was an elegant butcher. He would dive into a fray, use his Heat Vision to perform a "surgical strike" that cleared a path for trapped civilians, and then vanish before they could even thank him, leaving only the image of a hero burned into their retinas.
He even took a moment to drop into an alleyway where Black Widow was being swarmed by a dozen Chitauri foot soldiers.
"Do you need a hand, Ma'am?" He landed softly, a charming smile playing on his lips. Before she could answer, his eyes flared red. A twin beam of heat sliced through the air, bisecting the aliens in a heartbeat.
Natasha Romanoff gripped her batons, her eyes narrowed and wary. "Thanks. But you're crowding my workspace."
"My pleasure." Mason winked, then pushed off the ground, his ascent creating a shockwave that sent her hair flying.
"...Asshole," Natasha muttered, though she couldn't deny the efficiency.
High above, Clint Barton adjusted his grip on his bow from a skyscraper ledge. "The guy in the cape is a bit of a spotlight hog, don't you think?"
"He's effective," Steve Rogers responded over the comms, his voice grim. "But we don't know who he is or what his endgame is. For now, though, he's hitting the right targets. We treat him as a friend until he gives us a reason not to."
"Let's deal with Thor's drama-queen brother first," Stark's voice cut in. "I'm coming up on the Tower. Loki's on the terrace."
At that moment, Loki was perched on a Chitauri flyer, his scepter in hand, surveying the chaos with the smirk of a man who thought he'd already won.
"Found him!" Clint spotted the target and loosed a specialized explosive arrow.
Loki didn't even turn around. He reached out and caught the arrow with a contemptuous flick of his wrist. He looked at the shaft, his lip curling in a sneer.
BOOM.
The explosion caught the god of mischief off guard, sending him spiraling through the air in a very un-godlike arc. He crashed through the glass of the Stark Tower penthouse with a sickening thud.
Mason, watching from a distance, felt a surge of interest. He accelerated, a sonic boom trailing behind him as he chased the "villain" into the tower.
Inside the penthouse, Loki was a mess. His golden armor was scuffed, his face was smeared with soot and blood, and his pride was in tatters. He scrambled to his feet, gasping for air, only to find the man in the star-spangled cape standing ten feet away, watching him with a mocking, cold expression.
"Ugh..." Loki clutched his head. "Enough!" He stood up, trying to regain his regal stature. "What do you think you are? I am a God, you dull, low-life creature! I will not be bullied by a—"
Before the word 'mortal' could leave his lips, Mason vanished.
Loki's pupils shrank. Too fast.
In the next heartbeat, Mason was in his personal space. A hand like a steel vice clamped around Loki's throat, lifting the Asgardian off his feet until his boots dangled uselessly.
"What was that?" Mason asked, his smile brilliant and terrifying. "I didn't quite catch that last part."
"How... dare... you..." Loki choked out, his face turning a dark shade of purple.
Mason's smile widened. It was the smile of an actor who had just found his favorite scene.
He threw Loki upward, then blurred even faster, appearing above the god. He brought both feet down into Loki's midsection in a brutal War Stomp.
BOOM!
The reinforced marble floor shattered instantly, forming a massive, human-shaped crater.
Loki didn't even have time to gasp before Mason reached down, grabbed him by the ankle, and began to swing. It was a hammer throw, but the "hammer" was a Prince of Asgard.
Loki became a blurred afterimage, a ragdoll smashed repeatedly against the structural columns, the gold-leafed walls, and the high-tech ceilings of the penthouse.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
Each impact was accompanied by the screech of twisting rebar and the explosion of expensive drywall. The entire tower groaned under the force.
Loki's horned helmet flew off, clattering into a corner. He was foaming at the mouth, his eyes rolling back in his head as his consciousness began to flicker like a dying candle.
"What did you say you were?"
BANG!
Mason slammed Loki's head into a load-bearing alloy column, leaving a deep indentation in the metal.
"A God?"
BANG!
He whipped Loki against the steel frame of the window wall. The reinforced glass shattered into a million diamonds.
Mason finally stopped, holding the half-dead god by the leg like a bag of laundry. He rolled his wrist, then adjusted his hair, ensuring he looked "camera-ready."
"Come on. One more for the fans."
Mason leaped into the air, crashing through the ceiling of the floor above. He flipped in mid-air, grabbed Loki's arms, and drove him downward in a textbook Piledriver.
BOOM—CRACK!
The sound was like a thunderclap.
Loki's entire upper body was driven straight into the concrete subfloor. He was planted like a morbid garden ornament, only his two green-clad legs sticking out of the floor, twitching in unconscious rhythm.
"..."
Iron Man, who had just touched down on the balcony, froze. Behind him, Captain America and Black Widow stepped out of the elevator, weapons drawn, only to stop dead at the sight.
Natasha blinked, her voice flat with disbelief. "...Did he just plant Loki in the floor?"
Stark retracted his faceplate, staring at the twitching legs. "Well, I have to say... that was pretty kick-ass. Overkill? Maybe. But kick-ass."
Steve Rogers didn't look amused. He looked at Mason, who was currently dusting off his hands with a look of serene justice.
"Loki!"
A thunderous boom signaled the arrival of Thor. The God of Thunder descended from the sky, his cape billowing as he landed heavily on the floor. He looked at the crater. He saw his brother's legs.
Thor's face went from battle-hardened to beet-red in a second. He raised Mjolnir, pointing the hammer directly at Mason's chest.
"You! Mortal!" Thor roared, his voice shaking the remaining glass in the window frames. "How dare you be so... so..."
He sputtered, his rage colliding with the undeniable fact that his brother had just tried to enslave the planet.
"How dare you humiliate a Prince of Asgard like this!"
Mason didn't flinch. He turned toward Thor, his eyes glowing with a faint, predatory red light, and flashed that perfect, million-dollar smile.
"I'm not humiliating him, Point Break," Mason said calmly. "I'm just giving the people what they want."
The popularity is soaring, and the Avengers are officially on notice.
If you like it, please give power stones.