Hundreds of bolts of lightning crashed down at once, completely swallowing the Abomination in a blinding storm of silver-white destruction. The light was so fierce that the creature couldn't even see what was in front of it anymore. It sensed danger on instinct alone, a primal warning screaming through its body, but it had no idea what kind of danger it was facing.
Then the flashes intensified.
Its vision went blank under the endless bursts of light. Before it could even recover, it felt two hands clamp down on its head, and a deep voice rang out beside its ear like a verdict descending from heaven.
"Look into my eyes."
The Abomination's battered mind stumbled over the command in confusion. Eye? Where? It couldn't even tell where Locke was in the storm. But the voice came again, colder this time, stripped of all humor and mercy.
"Your soul will be devoured by the dead. Feel their pain."
The monster let out a desperate roar that shook the entire street. "No—!"
That scream blasted through the live broadcast and slammed straight into every viewer sitting in front of a television. They couldn't see clearly through the burning thunder, couldn't make out exactly what was happening inside that violent curtain of light, but they could hear the terror in that roar.
Then the lightning began to fade.
As the final arcs of silver peeled away, the viewers finally saw the scene beneath it. Their beloved New York savior hovered there in the air, one hand lifting the monster's limp body as if it weighed nothing at all.
The monster was dead.
The city erupted.
Cheers burst out from apartments, bars, sidewalks, police cruisers, and every television set across New York. The audience watching the live feed shouted with relief and excitement, and even Jameson in the helicopter was left speechless for a moment.
He stared downward in disbelief, then swallowed hard. This kind of power really was on another level. No matter how much he wanted to flatter his boss, there was no denying it now. Locke was clearly much stronger than Tony Stark in that silver can.
At almost the same moment, Hulk finally arrived on the battlefield.
After smashing through rows of buildings and clearing half the block in a series of wild leaps, he landed in the ruined street and looked around in visible confusion. His simple, chaotic mind couldn't process what he was seeing. His enemy was kneeling. The smaller enemies weren't attacking him. Everyone was staring at him, but nobody had moved yet.
Why?
He didn't understand.
And because he didn't understand, he became irritated. Irritation turned to frustration, and frustration pushed him toward the one thing Hulk always wanted to do when the world stopped making sense.
Smash something.
Locke took one look at the huge green brute and immediately flew down beside Wolverine. "Go tell him the sun's about to set," he said.
Logan blinked and turned to stare at him like he'd gone insane. "What?"
Wolverine had been fully focused on the terrifying enemy in front of him, but Locke's sentence shattered that concentration instantly. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Locke kept a straight face. "This is an opportunity to end the battle right now. You want to try it? If you pull it off, you'll be the biggest hero of the night. Just hold out your hand, walk slowly toward him, smile as gently as you can, and tell him in your softest voice that the sun is about to set."
Wolverine actually hesitated for a second.
He looked at the towering monster, then lifted one foot like he was really considering whether to do it. The second he did, Locke couldn't hold it anymore and burst out laughing.
Logan's face went black at once.
"You son of a bitch," he snapped. "If we weren't in the middle of a fight, I'd put a few extra holes in you right now."
Locke patted him on the shoulder like he was comforting a friend. "Watch closely. I'll teach you how to handle monsters."
Then he shot upward into the sky.
Wolverine stared after him, dumbfounded. "What the hell? Are you going to fight it or run away?"
Locke didn't answer. Instead, he flew straight toward the military helicopter where General Ross and Betty were watching from above. He knocked on the side hatch twice with his knuckles and motioned for them to open up.
Inside, Ross hesitated for only a second before unlocking the rear door. Locke stepped in and immediately noticed Betty's face. She looked exhausted, anxious, and on the edge of despair.
"General Ross," Locke said lightly, "mind lending me your daughter for a minute?"
Ross saw the direction of Locke's gaze and instantly understood what he meant. His entire face darkened. "Absolutely not. Are you trying to use her to—"
Locke ignored him completely and looked at Betty instead. "If you don't go, I'm going to have to beat him unconscious."
"Yes, I'll go," Betty said without hesitation.
She had seen more than enough of Locke's power by now, and more importantly, she knew Bruce better than anyone here. She rushed toward him before her father could stop her. Locke slipped an arm around her waist, then leaned backward and carried her right out of the helicopter.
Ross nearly exploded.
"You bastard! Give my daughter back! You'll kill her!"
By the time he finished shouting, Locke had already landed in front of Hulk with Betty in his arms.
The angry green giant froze.
Just like that, all the fury boiling under his skin seemed to hit a wall. He stood there, breathing heavily, staring at the woman in front of him as if the whole world had suddenly gone quiet. Locke walked back toward Wolverine and jerked his head toward the scene.
"There," he said with a grin. "That's love."
Wolverine watched in silence as Betty spoke softly to the Hulk and the monster truly calmed down. The roaring stopped. The wild tension in his body began to loosen. Then, right there in front of everyone, the giant green frame slowly started shrinking until Bruce Banner stood there again, human and exhausted.
Logan could only raise a thumb.
Locke smiled, then walked over to the freshly reverted Banner. "Dr. Banner, nice to meet you," he said. "How would you feel about joining the Avengers? Uphold justice, save the world, protect the innocent. We'd be happy to have you."
Banner didn't answer right away. His eyes were full of suspicion, the kind that came from being hunted too long to trust anyone offering help.
Locke paused, then added casually, "Oh, and I forgot to mention something. Miss Betty just agreed to join my research lab. If you come with us, the two of you can work together. The lab is at Avengers headquarters."
Betty turned and looked at him with mild surprise. Join his lab? That was news to her too. But she didn't contradict him. Instead, she looked straight at Bruce.
Locke pressed the advantage. "At our base, you won't have to worry about hurting normal people. You can see for yourself—we're not exactly fragile. Unlike General Ross, I won't force you into fights you don't want. If you prefer, I can hire you purely as a researcher. And if you ever decide you don't like it, you can leave whenever you want. There aren't many places in the world that can actually stop you."
Banner wanted to refuse.
He really did.
But when he saw the hope in Betty's eyes, the resistance in his expression wavered. A second later, he let out a tired breath and gave in.
"All right."
Behind Locke, Wolverine shook his head slowly and sighed. Love really was a prison.
…
The street battle ended, and New York returned to normal on the surface.
But something had changed.
Television channels began running more and more segments on the Avengers. Posters started appearing across the city. Newsstands pushed heroic photos to the front. The team had officially entered the public eye, and the city was eating it up.
Meanwhile, in a nightclub packed with pounding music and flashing lights, Tony Stark was trying to drown himself in noise.
The bass shook the walls. Neon lights cut through smoke and sweat. Fueled by alcohol and little round pills that passed from hand to hand like candy, young bodies twisted against each other in a blur of lust and excess. Stark, already pushing forty, threw himself into the center of it all without hesitation.
He ground against girls, then guys, laughing too loudly, moving too hard, already far past drunk. At some point, half-lost in the blur, he felt a warm wetness spreading through the front of his pants.
He staggered to the bathroom, splashed water on his face, and managed to clear his head just enough to look down. When he pulled open his shirt, the sight underneath made his stomach drop.
Blue veins had spread across his chest like poison roots.
He pulled out a small square device, flipped it open, and pressed his thumb against the scanner. A sting shot through his skin, and the display lit up.
Palladium concentration: 58%.
Tony drew in a slow breath.
He knew exactly what that meant.
He was dying.
For days now he had been living like a desperate stray dog, throwing himself into every distraction he could find. He had dumped the company into Pepper's hands, vanished from responsibility, and gone hunting for sensation anywhere he could. Formula racing. Supermodels. Nightclubs. Anything loud enough, fast enough, or filthy enough to drown out the fear.
He looked at his soaked pants in disgust.
Go home and change? Why bother?
He tossed the scanner into the trash and turned right back toward the dance floor.
Then the music came again.
Then the dancing.
And because Fury was busy focusing on the Avengers and his own ridiculous "Justice League" project, no one at S.H.I.E.L.D. noticed Stark's spiral in time. Natasha was never sent. Pepper was buried in company work and missed the warning signs without even realizing it.
So when Tony Stark collapsed in the middle of the club, nobody paid attention.
Except one man.
When Stark woke up again, he found himself inside what felt like a box-shaped private room. The music was still thundering from outside, muffled by the walls. Sitting opposite him was an old man dressed in a way that made no sense in a nightclub.
His hair was slicked straight back. He wore a black suit, black gloves, and carried a cane topped with a skull. Everything about him was immaculate and out of place.
Yet the moment Stark looked at him, he felt something strange.
Something dangerous.
"Tony Stark?" the old man asked.
Tony rubbed his temple and squinted. "Who are you?"
The old man smiled faintly. "I admire your armor very much. It's a masterpiece of engineering. You must have the finest brain in the world."
Tony gave a tired smirk. "I do. Now answer the question."
"When the time comes," the man said, "you'll know."
Tony stood, still unsteady, and pulled a checkbook from his pocket. He scribbled in a number, tore it out, and held it forward. "Here. Thanks for dragging me in here. As for guessing your mysterious identity, no thanks. I'm not interested."
The old man accepted the check, glanced at it, and smiled. "The famous Tony Stark really is generous."
Then his face changed.
"But this isn't enough to pay for your treatment."
Tony's expression snapped hard. He yanked open his shirt and looked down.
The blue veins were gone.
He looked back up in shock. "You cured me?"
"Don't celebrate too early," the old man replied. "I only removed the palladium for now. Within a few days, it will build up again and return to a fatal level."
Tony stared at him for a long second, then slowly sat back down. "Let me ask again. Who are you, and what do you want?"
The old man smiled. "Would you like to make a deal, Tony Stark?"
He waved one hand lightly, and the check in his fingers burst into flame without warning, burning itself to ash in the air.
…
President Okanagan was very pleased with what happened on the streets of New York that night.
The Avengers had performed exactly the way he hoped they would, so he approved more funding and more policy support for the project. Locke's base expanded rapidly. It now included proper training grounds for the Avengers, dormitories and classrooms for mutant residents, and multiple research buildings separated into general-access and restricted sectors.
But the project Locke cared about most was still the Thunder Armor.
After talking things through with Anton and his son, he decided it was time to visit Stark Tower.
Not long after, he showed up at Pepper's office in a crisp blue suit, carrying a box of fresh cherries in his hands. The moment she saw him, Pepper stood up with warm surprise.
"Father Locke, it's been so long."
Then she smiled with a trace of embarrassment. "Come to think of it, neither Tony nor I ever properly thanked you for saving our lives. I'm really sorry."
Locke let out a theatrical sigh. "Yeah. I've been deeply hurt that you still haven't invited me out for coffee."
Pepper blushed a little, suddenly looking more flustered than before. "I've just been so busy lately. Tony dumped the whole company onto me out of nowhere, and—"
At that exact moment, the television in the room cut through her explanation.
"It's hard to believe Stark's secretary has now been appointed CEO of Stark Industries! What qualifications does she even have? She has no management experience at all—"
Pepper's face turned pale.
Locke reached across and patted the back of her hand gently a few times. "Don't let that get to you. People love talking when they don't know anything. It's normal to be doubted. But I think you can handle this company just fine."
Pepper nodded, though she didn't look much comforted.
Locke shrugged. "Besides, if you fail, I'm going to lose a lot of money."
She blinked at him. "Why?"
"Because after you took over, I bought a lot of Stark Industries stock," he said with a grin. "And honestly, if you can manage Tony Stark, you can manage a corporation."
That finally got a real smile out of her.
The two of them talked for a while after that, moving through lighter topics, until the phone on her desk rang. Pepper picked it up, listened, and looked back at him apologetically.
"Mr. Locke, I have to go. My flight's about to leave."
"That's fine." He stood immediately.
Pepper grabbed the box of cherries as she rose. "I like these. I'm taking them with me."
The two of them walked out together. At the doorway, Locke paused for just a second and looked toward a display model set up in the corner of the room.
Pepper followed his gaze and explained quickly, "That's the three-dimensional model of the expo grounds Howard left for Tony years ago. It's just been sitting there ever since."
Locke, of course, already knew that.
One of the buttons on his chest was actually a miniature scanning device with strong penetrative imaging capability, and in that brief pause it had already recorded the full three-dimensional structure of the model. But he only nodded and kept walking.
They reached the lobby together, and then Locke suddenly slapped a hand to his forehead like he'd just remembered something important. "Right. I've got one more gift for you."
Pepper looked surprised. "What is it?"
He pulled out a small box and opened it. Inside lay an exquisite sapphire necklace, delicate and elegant under the light. "A woman as beautiful as you shouldn't have an empty neck."
Pepper immediately hesitated. "This is too expensive. I can't accept something like this."
Locke looked genuinely troubled. "This is the first necklace I've ever given to a girl. You're not really going to make me go back in defeat, are you?"
She bit her lip. "I…"
"I swear," he said quickly, "there's no hidden meaning behind it. It's just a simple gift."
Pepper hesitated again. "Are you sure there isn't anything else behind it?"
"I'm sure."
That answer, combined with the pleading look on his face, finally wore her down. "All right," she said softly.
Locke immediately lifted the necklace out of the box. "Great. Let me put it on for you."
Pepper startled. "What? No, Mr. Locke, there are people everywhere out here."
Neither of them noticed that just outside the lobby doors, Tony Stark had stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the scene like a man who had just been struck by lightning.
....
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