Chapter 17: My Name Is Jeff
Canon Omake: My Name is Jeff
July 20th, 2014
Samuel Sterns/The Leader
"Dial has disappeared," The Leader said softly to the room.
At a rectangular black metal table set inside a room ringed with comfortable red cushioned chairs, the Leader sat at the head of the table. He looked around at the others sitting there, his massive green cranium swiveling slowly.
To his right, Klaue was chewing loudly on a piece of chicken. A less observant man would have thought he wasn't paying attention, but the Leader easily noted the way his eyes narrowed at his comment. The silver disk replacing his arm glinted in the light, the emerald diamond in the center shining brightly.
"How do you know?" A Russian accented voice said. Red Ghost was resting almost lazily in his chair, left hand on the head of his orangutan, Peotor. His gorilla, Miklho, stood behind him, while his baboon, Igor, sat on his right. Red Ghost stroked his chin. "You have eyes on BRIDGE, da?"
"Not possible," Mr. Sinister spoke up. The clean cut man smiled devilishly, his fingers tapping idly on the table, dark eyes set into a pale white face flickering about the room. "We've tried. Tony Stark, X, Jarvis, Black Widow, and far far more, are all very competent at preventing subterfuge."
"It's impressive," Klaue swallowed his food and tossed some chicken bones into a waste bin next to him. "So, bighead, how'd you figure out they've lost the alien boy?"
The Leader tapped the table. A holographic screen snapped into place, showing an image of the Avengers Tower. "While our ability to enter the actual tower has been stymied, I can easily observe the outside and extrapolate the ongoings."
"You have cameras around the tower?" Mr. Sinister asked.
"No, but it is a tourist landmark. I simply have a virus constantly sending me images, video, and sound bites from the dozens of people who film the tower on their trips," The Leader sighed sadly. "As convenient as it is, the sheer amount of information one can divine from these things is saddening. I can discover the location of a person simply by studying the reflection in their eyes."
"Yeah, yeah, we all live in a self-surveilled hellscape," Klaue said, waving a hand. "Come on, what's going on with the spandex folks?"
The Leader scowled, but continued. "As I said, Dial has disappeared. Yesterday, I compiled footage that leads me to this belief. Jennifer Walters, Tony Stark, and Nicholas Fury left the building on a Quinjet at a pace that can only be called frantic. They later arrived with Doctors Otto Octavius and Jane Foster, as well as less notable experts in a variety of fields. Thor later arrived through the Bifrost. Since then, a series of shipments have been diverted to the tower. All of which can be used to create a device capable of dimensional travel."
"And you're sure this isn't simply some sign that the Avengers plan to expand into other universes?" Mr. Sinister asked.
The Leader smiled. "If that were the case, then Dial would have joined them. While he is not a true genius, that confounded Jury Rigg form of his makes him a cheat code to advanced technology. And yet, there have been no sightings of him around the tower. He isn't a man of routine, but the lack of any sightings was enough to make me wonder."
The Leader leaned back in his chair. "I noted the distraught on Jennifer Walters' face as she left and arrived. Later, I noted that Carl Creel and Fantasma showed similar levels of distress on their patrols through the city. The same could be seen on Steve Roger's face when he was filmed drinking coffee at his favored shop."
"Do these people have no privacy?" Red Ghost sighed. "Bah, the youth and their obsession with fame."
"Quite. As I said, Dial is missing. I don't know for how long, but it leaves a notable gap in the Avengers' operations. He will not be patrolling several key points of the East Coast, and any Avenger focused on bringing him back leaves us several opportunities to move."
Mr. Sinister straightened. "Of course! We can obtain-"
"I move that we begin immediately!" Red Ghost interrupted. "If we can steal what we need, then my projects-"
"Blast your projects, Kragoff, my cloning vats are far more important!"
"You self-obsessed twat, we don't need more of you!"
"Why you FOOL! I will-!"
Klaue raised his hand, the silver disked one. A booming noise filled the room, Red Ghost's apes falling to their knees and hooting in pain. "Let him talk, you idiots!"
Red Ghost and Mr. Sinister's mouths snapped shut. The Leader continued. "Indeed, I have a plan that will allow all of our projects to benefit. Klaue and Red Ghost, you will each lead a team, one to steal the needed materials, the other to purchase them from Kingpin's empire."
"Ugh, Fisk?" Klaue grumbled. "Please tell me I don't-"
"Klaue, you are the best at negotiating," The Leader said, unable to help his annoyance.
Despite their genius, both Red Ghost and Mr. Sinister were far too arrogant to truly negotiatewith others. They could do it, of course. But Klaue had decades of experience selling and purchasing from reprobates across the world.
"I have a list of what we will be procuring. I believe it is complete, but amend it as you wish," The Leader sent the list to the groups comm units.
It was a perfect list. So of course, all three men would add to it, if only to attempt to establish some petty form of dominance.
It was fine. The Leader could deal with their idiotic displays for now. One day, his world would come to life in full. And there would be no need for the Intelligencia. Only The Leader would remai-
"Oy, bighead, you've got that aroused look on your face again. It's weirding us out," Klaue intruded into his thoughts.
The Leader sighed. One day.
July 21st, 2014
The heist and buy both went off without a hitch. Items that they had believed wouldn't be available for months were now sitting in the Intelligencia base ready to be worked on. Red Ghost had been forced to kill a few inconsequential men and women, but it had to be done.
Now, Mr. Sinister and Red Ghost had disappeared into their labs and the sounds of work being done could be heard within.
The same could be said for the Leader. In his case, it was a project he had received, rather than conceived.
Just before Dial's fortuitous disappearance, The Leader had received a package of information from a source he had yet to divine. It had come to a dummy inbox he had created under a false identity. He had been suspicious of it, of course, but found no virus that his brilliant mind could discover.
Instead, it was blueprints. Incomplete ones, but ones that he immediately recognized as having been created by someone of genius nearly matching his own.
The sender had called himself 'Alpha'. How arrogant. Once he discovered who the sender was, he might consider inviting him to the Intelligencia before destroying him.
Yet, the information was incredible. He now had more insight into the Omnitrix than ever before. Enough to make a reduced copy. A very reduced one.
His research into the Omnitrix had revealed it was an immensely over-engineered item. Based on public knowledge alone, it had an insane amount of abilities even when one ignored its variety of aliens. Put those into account and things became ridiculous. It likely had no limitations on the kinds of aliens it could add to it's repertoire, and a majority were not on the files of the Confederacy.
So yes. A much reduced version. But the Leader could make something quite worthwhile with the technology. First, a prototype.
Amongst the blueprints was enough for the Leader to make that prototype, something of a Mark 0 version. The Omnitrix only had the forms of aliens that could be considered sapient. The Leader had trouble with that part, as well as a few others, so obviously the mark 0 was only capable of more animalistic forms.
The Leader sat in his laboratory, carefully forming the pieces. Discarding what was unnecessary and replacing it where he could, forming a blueprint in his mind, a much more complete one than what Alpha had sent him. It would be a simple weapon, made to connect to a primal being and allow them to transform as Dial did.
Perhaps he could even make a simple boosterversion.
A knockoff, at best. But one day he would be able to make a true version and surpass it. With Gamma. Gamma radiation was the key to the perfection of the universe. The Omnitrix would be one more tool to aid in that.
With a foolproof plan in place, he got to work.
July 23rd, 2014
Sadly, the Nemetrix phase 1 was a slow going project. In order to have the best chance of it working, the Leader decided to create an animal designed to wield the device. After all, how much more powerful would the Omnitrix have been if its owner was not an average idiot off the streets, if Captain America or better yet, Bruce Banner, held its power.
So, working with Mr. Sinister and Red Ghost, the Leader took the DNA samples he'd stolen from the databases of the Confederacy along with Earth animals, and combined the best traits.
The base form would be an animal called a Starshark, so eerily similar to Earth selachimorpha, and yet far more powerful, able to survive the depths of space despite all those harsh conditions, competing with other life forms there.
However, Starsharks were far too vicious. So they added the DNA of more domesticated and intelligent animals. Mr. Sinister and Red Ghost's experience was invaluable there, helping the Leader combine the best of his desired traits. Intelligent, but not too intelligent, much more docile, comfortably omnivorous, and extremely strong. The final touch was adding the gamma gene. With that, the animal was complete.
What came out was… well. A child. A mere baby. On seeing it, Klaue had taken a deep breath.
"That. Is the most adorable fucking thing I've ever seen. You eggheads wanted to make a super-monster, and this is a fucking plushie. Can I have one?"
"It's one of the most formidable creatures on Earth!" Red Ghost had said, aghast.
"Look at his cute little puppy legs! Tell me you don't want to hug it!"
Red Ghost's silence had been… unhelpful.
Still, one day the creature would become a true powerhouse. For now, they would wait. Even if it took a full year or more.
July 24th, 2014
"..." The Leader stared out of the giant hole that had been created in his laboratory. It was about the size of an eighteen wheeler, with sparks coming out from ripped apart wires, some water dripping out of a pipe. The stone floor of the lab was covered in green fluid and glass, a single broken vat next to the Leader, along with the culprit of the fiasco.
"...I'm so sor-"
The Leader held a single finger up, turning to look at the speaker. He was an unimpressive man. Short, overweight, with a dirty brown bowl cut.
As part of the Intelligencia's efforts, they had to hire outside help. Not much, but The Leader had learned to value outside perspectives. Even Klaue, as much as he annoyed him, had proven to be invaluable.
Until now, that policy had proven fruitful. Before one of the so-called geniuses that he had hired committed one of the most idiotic things he'd ever seen.
"Dr. George Tarleton… explain, in detail, what exactly you were thinking. Please."
The man swallowed. Nervously, he began to speak. "I was trying to finish your experiment for you! I thought, you know, you were busy with that bomb thing, so I wanted to get the Nemetrix project out of the way for you!"
"I see. How very… forward-thinking," just when Dr. Tarleton seemed to breathe easier, he continued. "Except that the Nemetrix project was long-term. The child we created was to grow within the vats at accelerated speed. At the end of the year, we would test it, and release it. Long term."
Other scientists in the laboratory were watching the conversation.
"What you have done, is wasted materials we gained during a singular window that may never come again. Alien DNA alone will be the work of months if I do not simply go out into space to retrieve more. It may be the work of years to accumulate what I need to repeat this experiment."
"I-"
The Leader held out a hand, then swung it, palm down. A telekinetic envelope of power surrounded Dr. Tarleton, smashing him to his knees. He gasped in pain as he struggled against the Leader's mental power.
"Dr. Tarleton. You attached a weapon more valuable than your life onto an infant. That infant is now running wild. And it will cost you. Do you know," the Leader looked around at the scientists surrounding him. "What is more valuable than a life?"
"N-No, please!" Tarleton sputtered, trying to breathe.
"Freedom. And intelligence," the Leader lifted Tarleton into the air on psychic energy, walking slowly with the struggling man. "You deserve neither. I will take your intelligence, what little you have. And when you are no smarter than a simpleton, you will be put to work in something much more valuable."
"PLEASE!" Tarleton cried tears of horror. "Somebody, somebody help!"
"Shhhhhh. Do not worry," A door opened just before the Leader as he continued to walk calmly. "I'm sure once you are placed in AIM's experimental programs, you will be treated humanely."
Tarleton's face paled. The employees of the Intelligencia had all seen what AIM was up to. There was talk of sending someone in, but that person would be subjected to horrific experiments. Ripped apart and turned into something… else.
As Tarleton began to scream, the door shut behind him, leaving his fellow scientists to clean up after him.
Mahmoud Schahed/Dial
"I just wanted a day off," I grumbled, flying in a quinjet towards Florida.
It had been a rough couple of days. After coming back from Noa's dimension, I just want to sleep. Hang out with Jen, workout with Steve, really appreciate being home again.
Except, Maria had called me in to deal with a monster. A shapeshifting monster that had suddenly come out of the waters of Miami Beach.
On a screen next to me, Director Maria Hill sighed. "I know, Dial. But you are the shapeshifting alien, this is a shapeshifting monster. We have a team getting people evacuated, but you four were the first available Avengers."
"Yeah, because we were playing DnD," Jen said from behind me, walking over to wrap her arms around my chair and give me a hug. As I took one hand off the controls to hold one of hers, she glared at the screen. "You can't let me enjoy having him back?"
"Tell you what, I'll convince the next giant monster to take a rain check," Maria said dryly. "For now, it's just roaming the beach, destroying property, eating-"
"People?" Creel hopped into the co-pilots seat, Fantasma following to join us.
"Thankfully, no. Mostly just discarded food, umbrellas, and a restaurant."
"It ate the whole restaurant?" Fantasma asked, surprised.
"Like I said. It's a problem. ETA to dropsite?"
"Thirty seconds," I set the quinjet to autopilot and got up, hugging Jen's taller form as we walked.
"Got it. Ground team set up a perimeter. Find out what this thing is and take it down."
The back door of the Quinjet opened. The four of us stared down at the beach before we all hopped out towards the ground dozens of feet below us. Fantasma floated downwards, Creel slammed into the cement as a metal titan, and Jen simply held me as she hit the floor, letting me loose right after.
Between us and the beach was a single street, behind which was a long strip of plants before the pale white sands with beautiful blue water. Speaking as a California boy, Florida had some really pretty beaches.
"Okay, Avengers. Time to work for a living," I said, walking forward. I took a deep breath, taking in the air with a smile.
It was so good to be home, man. We walked up to the perimeter that had been set up around the area, on the street. Big SUV's created a makeshift barrier along with caution tape. Some cameramen with reporters filmed as we walked past, some people taking photos on their phones. It was loud, some people shouting our names and praises, a couple tossing insults that were easily ignored.
A BRIDGE soldier ran over to us.
"Sir!" She saluted, the tall blonde woman looking tired. "It's been running this way. It stuck to the beach, but we can't stop it."
"It can shapeshift?" I asked.
She nodded, looking nervous. "Just like you, sir."
I nodded. "Okay. Well, we'll go in and take care of-"
"No, you don't understand!" she shouted, surprising me. Swallowing, she looked back at the beach. "It's just like you, it has a-"
"SCREEEEE!" A roaring scream cut her off. I immediately spun the dial, pressing down the Omnitrix. I went for a form I didn't use too often, but figured it would be fine for now.
In moments, I exploded upwards in size. My skin was replaced by dark green scales, my limbs stretched outwards, my feet were replaced with elephant-like ones, and a large tail swung behind me, my long arms extending out.
"Brontoroarus!"
I ran forward in my Bronto-saur-lord form, towering over the crowd.
"Hold on!" Jen landed on my shoulder. "Okay, let's go!"
When Creel landed on the opposite shoulder I held in a sigh. "I'm not a damn horse!"
"Giddy-up already, man." Creel said, grinning at me. I grumbled but kept moving, rushing past the perimeter, over the SUV's jumping over the strip of plantlife to land on the beach with a burst of sand exploding all around me. I slid across the sand, drifting until we faced the direction the roar had come from, with Fantasma flying over to land on my head. I heard her speak then.
"ну на́до же…"
"Tentacles!" Jen said, horrified.
The creature rushing us was tall, almost as tall as Brontoroarus. It had a single gaping maw filled with dozens of teeth, two tiny eyes and uh… well, as Jen said. Tentacles. LOTS of them all along a thickly built body.
"What the fuck is tha-" A single pink tentacle lashed out, smashing into Creel mid-sentence and sending him flipping into a surf shop in a shower of broken wood and plastic. The creature rushed forward, maw open as it bit at Jen, who jumped upwards to get away. I wrapped my arms around it, pulling it back to the ground.
"Why is it going after me!?" Jen shouted, horrified when a pair of long tentacles tried to wrap around her ankles.
"X!" I shouted into the Omnitrix, my tail lashing out to grab one of the tentacles.
"Howdy, sir." My favorite AI friend said. "How can I help?"
"Look this thing up in the databanks, is it an alien?" The creature struggled further, trying to chomp down on my girlfriend. I wrapped my arms around its neck and pulled harder. Above, Fantasma started shooting purple energy at it, the bursts of power bouncing off it's skin.
"Just a moment… It's an Abilisk. A dimension traveling varmint. It's an energy eater, able to see radiation."
"And Jen's a walking reactor, of cours-FUCK!" A single long tentacle smashed me in the eye, forcing me back. The weird multi-mouthed creature snapped its jaws at Jen, who caught the top of its mouth with her hands while her sneakered feet pushed down at his bottom jaw.
"AAAAAAGH!" Jen shouted, screaming as the abilisk moved across the sand, trying to bite deep into her. A stream of green energy began flowing from her, entering the monster's mouth.
"Jen, get mad, keep your energy up!" I screamed.
"What the fuck do you think I'm doing!?" Jen screamed, getting smashed through some umbrellas and chairs that had been left on the beach.
"RAAAGH!" Creel came from the left, his vibranium fist smashing into the creature with crushing force.
"GAH!" Jen struggled under the abilisk's mouth. "Careful!"
"Nothing is working!" Fantasma shouted above me, sending bursts of violet flame at the creature, scowling. When a tentacle lashed out at her, she dived into a portal, appearing further down the beach.
Pulling hard, I began twisting the tentacles in my hands, my giant feet digging deep furrows in the sand. "Okay, okay!" An idea came. "We need to feed him!"
I slapped the Omnitrix symbol. "NRG!"
In a flash of light, I lost a massive amount of weight. And gained a shit-ton of radiation.
The abilisk immediately spun around, facing me. It rushed my metal form, Jen still struggling with a single tentacle around her waist and it's jaws in her grip. I blasted its mouth, sending a nuclear reactor's worth of power into its mouth. The creature sucked in that energy. For a long moment, it stood still.
That was when I saw what was on its neck. A collar. I hadn't noticed it before, thanks to all the fighting, sand, and tentacles. My eyes widened at the sight of it. A giant red collar. And at the center of it, a hexagon with a symbol like a set of white teeth on either side of a red jagged line.
"Blyat'..." I whispered.
The abilisk roared. Within the red of the device on its collar, an unfamiliar silhouette appeared. And in moments, it began to change. Tentacles sank into its body. The pink skin faded away. Unlike me, there wasn't an instantaneous flash of light and a transformation. Instead, it was a quick, if still slower than the Omnitrix, shifting of flesh, muscle, and bone.
The abilisk disappeared. And in its place was a twenty foot long bug. Just… a fucking GIANT bug. Spindly long legs, big wings, eyes like a praying mantis, and clenching mandibles.
"Oh."
"Mahmoud," Jen said, horrified.
"It's got an Omnitrix," I mumbled, my mind reeling at the thought.
"SCREEE!" The giant insectoid screamed while rushing towards us, not giving us a chance to do anything but fight.
Intellectually, I'd always known that the Omnitrix couldn't remain a unique technology forever. Azmuth, as far as I knew, was overpowered in terms of pure brains. The list of people who could match him were vanishingly small.
But no one in this universe had ever shown the kind of mind that could come close to making one. Tony, Bruce, Octavius, Fitz, Foster. They could barely comprehend it. Hell, Tony was only able to figure out basic functions, such as how to send communications and data to and from it.
We essentially had a starship engine, and were only able to use it as a flashlight.
Except someone had managed to make their own engine. I twisted away from the insect as it rushed us, landing my armored body in a heap, then rolling over and blasting it with an NRG bolt. The insect got hit in the stomach and crashed into the beach, sand flying about, squealing as it rose up to face us.
"X!" I shouted, rising to a knee and grabbing the giant praying mantis-esque head, heavy boots dragging across the sand. Even with all my mass, the thing was still pushing me back with relative ease.
"The creature is called a Space-Lubber," X said in his southern twang. "Like the Abilisk, it eats energy."
"What, does everything want to eat me today!?" Jen shouted, jumping over to smash her fists down into the things back.
The creature's mouth opened, streams of energy flowing from the gaps in my armor, from Jen's skin, even small bits of energy from Fantasma as she floated overhead to start blasting its wings with fire. What little wounds that had been caused by us began to heal in an instant.
High above, Creel dropped down, his body the sheen of osmium, the heaviest metal on Earth, crashing into the thorax of the creature. The Space-Lubber screamed in a chittering, scratching sound, the bottom of its belly hitting the sand.
"I got it, I got it!" Creel roared, gripping the alien's jaw as he shifted to vibranium, the things mandibles bouncing off his metal form.
Portions of its exoskeleton popped open. And then, tiny versions of it came flying out, like bees out of a hive.
"HOLY SHIT!" Creel yelped with a way higher pitch than I was used to. He reeled away from one of the tiny insects, waving his hands about. "AAAA!"
"Creel?"
"I hate bugs!"
"You just tackled one!"
"Yeah, a big one!"
Seriously?
Jen grabbed one bug and squashed it in her fist, face crinkling in disgust. "No, he's right. Bugs are worse when they're small."
"Dial," X cut into the conversation. "Space-Lubbers can feed off sound waves."
I punched the giant monster and grabbed one of the little ones, squishing it in my fist. The big one unleashed a beam of pink lightning, the waves of plasma hitting me harmlessly but turning the sand around us to glass, Fantasma blocking one errant bolt on a shield of violet power.
"Okay? Why would I feed it!?"
"Perhaps we can blow it up by overfeeding it?" Fantasma asked, dropping down next to me.
"Feeding alone would make it bigger. You need ta calm it," X's accent thickened just a touch. "If the varmint gets fed food similar to its current species original homeworld, we might be able to reign 'im in before it opens a black hole."
"OPENS A BLACK HOLE!?" Fantasma shouted, horrified.
"X, give me a song!" I shouted. I rolled out of the way of a set of random limbs, landing on my feet clumsily and slapping the Omnitrix symbol on NRG's chest. "ECHO-ECHO!"
In a flash of light, I shrank down into the familiar white figure of the Sonorosian alien.
"Oh, zat one is new," Fantasma noted, blasting a blast of eldritch energy that destroyed a wave of tiny insects. Just before that same blast would hit the Space-Lubber, a giant construct of plasma in the shape of a wing blocked it. "Energy shields!?"
"Babe, I love you, but I feel sorry for anyone who had to fight you," Jen grumbled, jumping to punch the alien in the face. It blasted her with a pink energy burst, forcing her into the sand, then tried to stab her with one of its legs. She backflipped away to land next to Creel, who jumped in to hit the alien as well.
Time to calm the beast.
"X, give me a beat!" I said with a green smile.
"This song is the closest I have available to the Space-Lubber's home world."
I flashed into green bursts of light. And suddenly, I had a dozen perspectives surrounding the whole area. A whole host of Echo-Echo's, all grinning at the alien monster.
"...I can't say what I'm thinking right now," Jen mumbled.
I decided not to unpack that to instead focus on the song that X sent into the Omnitrix. It was some kind of beautiful soundtrack I couldn't recognize, something right out of an anime. I then used one of Echo-Echo's little known powers. I turned myself into a speaker.
Dozens of speakers, all unleashing waves of sound. Not to attack, but to encompass.
All around the creature, a wave of sound mimicking the song of it's dead homeworld, shaking through its exoskeleton. The creature froze in place as the haunting synthetic sounds surrounded it.
"Is it… calm?" Jen asked, landing next to one of me.
I stopped to create another clone to replace me, then backed up to speak with her. "I think so?"
The creature shuddered. I watched as it slowly lowered it's head down, swaying back and forth. It's mouth opened, mandibles twitching. And it sang back.
For a moment, the Space-Lubber and Echo-Echo were in harmony. The Space-Lubber's tune slowly changed. I changed to match it, shifting the sounds until, eventually.
"That's it, partner," X said softly. "That's the music of its homeworld."
Slowly, the creature began to sink in on itself. Green exoskeleton became gray flesh. Six limbs shifted to four. Mandibles became razor sharp teeth. Soon, he was sitting on his haunches, leaning back and forth clumsily with his eyes closed, humming to the music.
"...Oh my god. It's adorable," Jen whispered, clutching her fists under her eyes.
"...Jeff?" I said, befuddled.
The baby land shark ignored us to keep humming, swaying to the beautiful music of another world.
Later, I had Jeff on my lap in one of the BRIDGE containment units, a large white room made to survive any and everything. I was sat on the couch with him, trying to keep him calm so he didn't transform into… whatever the hell he might transform into next. Jeff was purring while Jen, now in her human form, scratched a section just in front of his dorsal fin.
Maria Hill was on a hologram screen in front of us, Tony, Steve, and Sam on others surrounding her. The leaders of every part of the superhero effort.
"A baby land shark?" Maria asked, looking exhausted at the mere idea. "With a what, a bootleg Omnitrix?"
"Nemetrix?" Sam suggested.
"It doesn't need a funny nickname, it needs explanation," Maria said, though she had a small smile. My Maria was best Maria.
"Tony?" I asked, scratching Jeff under his chin, the little guy smiling happily and letting out a small 'raaaaaa' as he enjoyed the pets.
"First of all, I didn't do this," Tony said firmly. "And I never thought about it either."
"No… no one said you did?" Steve said very suspiciously, narrowing his eyes at the screen.
"Just making it clear." Tony smirked, then crossed his arms with a frown. "Whoever made this has a deep understanding of Dial's Omnitrix, way beyond us."
"How is that possible?" Jen asked, rubbing Jeff's snout. "We're the only ones who have access to it."
"And not to compliment Tony too much, but if he can't figure it out, how did someone else?" Sam asked.
"They didn't figure it out," Tony grumbled. "Look, I've had Fitz-Simmons look into it as well. They agree. That little guy was tailor-made for the Nemetrix-"
"See what you did?" Maria mumbled at Sam, who winked at her.
"From the ground-up," Tony continued. "And the watch isn't a match for the Omnitrix. This really is a bootleg. But a bootleg tank in the middle ages is still impressive."
"There's a short list of guys who can make it," I noted. "The Leader is still out there."
"But we don't have evidence," Steve said. "Or any clue where he is if it is the Leader."
"We'll leave that on the table for now. I'll have a team start tracking where it-"
"Jeff," Jen said, cooing when said landshark hopped into her lap to nuzzle her.
"Where Jeff came from. But we can't just leave that thing on him."
"We kind of have to," Tony said.
"What?"
"It's attached. As in, completely. That thing is fused to his neck in the same way the Omnitrix attaches to Dial. The only way to take it off is if hedecides to."
"...I'm not sure he's smart enough for that?" Sam said, rubbing the back of his head.
"Don't be mean!" Jen lifted Jeff up towards Sam's screen. "Apologize to him!"
"Uh… my bad?"
"Raaaaa," Jeff yawned before licking his lips.
"So what's our solution?" Maria asked, cutting off the comedy show. "We can't allow a power of this magnitude to be running around."
"...Maybe we keep him?" I asked, feeling a little ridiculous.
"Keep him?" Maria asked dryly.
"Well, we can't kill him," I pointed out. "Not his fault a crazy person turned him into a bioweapon. So maybe we can take care of him? Keep him calm, train him?"
"You want to turn a Nemetrix wielding land shark into a pet?"
"A Pet Avenger?" I said hesitantly.
"A what?" Sam asked.
"Oh, that's a good idea," Tony said sarcastically. "Maybe he can fight alongside Battle Cat and that freaky cat of Harkness'."
"..."
"Oh my god, you're serious."
Maria cut in, thoughtful. "The idea isn't… entirelycrazy."
"It's completely wackoo!"
"BRIDGE has been training superhuman animals since we found the Graveyard. We have entire teams of people who specialize in it now. And this guy, whatever his origins, seems fairly docile when he's not getting shot at. Having a pet version of Dial could be useful."
"Not sure I like the phrasing, but I'm happy to hear you're in," I said. Lifting Jeff out of Jen's arms, I turned him to face me. "What do you think boy? You wanna be a superhero!? Huh! Yes he does! Yes he does!"
"Raaaaa!" Jeff licked my face with a dopey smile.
"I'll send someone to pick him up," Maria sighed. "In the meantime. Dial, Jen. Things have escalated."
"...The SRA."
Maria nodded. "The UN is going forward with it."
I scratched Jeff just behind his dorsal fin, the little guy nibbling gently at Jen's fingers. "A guy leaves for a few days and this bullshit goes off."
"We can stop it," Maria said. "And even if we can't, plan B is ready. Tony?"
"Ready to piss off the world, milady," Tony said gleefully.
"Steve?"
"I have heard I'm at the age for it," Steve chuckled.
"Dial."
"Defiant is good to go."
Maria nodded. Her eyes hardened as well. "Okay. We're ready. Whatever happens."
"...Raaa?" Jeff said questioningly.
I scratched his chin and sighed. In a life of craziness, the baby transforming land shark was comforting. Then again, politics were a bitch in every world.
This is canon. It was going to be an omake, but then I realized there was no real reason not to add it to the canon. So uh... yeah. Jeff, an intelligent hybrid creature created by The Leader to wield the Nemetrix. He wanted an attack animal, and one idiot ruined it all. Below are images of forms he has. He might get more, but for now, these will do.
In chapter, you can see one hint to why the SRA is starting off. The Leader is a dick. Next chapter, Jeff meets Nezuko!... Oh, right, and Dial meets his friends to begin the next steps.
Jeff himself is made from a combination of Starsharks and domesticated Earth animals in an attempt to make a tame monster. As a result, he is a baby shark with legs. It's possible he may gain flight and the size of his brethren, but for now he's adorable.
Chapter 18: I wanted to help
Chapter 18
I found out what happened a little after I arrived back home, before Jeff had his little party in Miami. We'd all know the SRA, the Superhuman Registration Act, was something that different parties were fighting to make a worldwide concept. Many countries were fighting back and forth. America was massively split on it. Canada was all for it. Russia was completely against it.
Things had been on a tightrope for months. The rising number of heroes in such a rapid timeframe was a huge reason why. Since the Battle at the Triskelion and the rise of BRIDGE, dozens of heroes had risen up out of nowhere seemingly. Me, Luna Snow, Ares, The Winter Guard, and many many more.
Everyone agreed something had to be done. But no one could agree on what.
Then I disappeared. And while I was gone, everyone else had stepped up. Heroes across the world had gone on missions, fighting the good fight.
Luna, Ami, and Dan had taken down a group of the Korean Mob, arresting some guy named Eric Hong. Ares had defeated a sect of demon worshippers in Russia alongside Chernobog, both gods killing an Elder Demon in a knockdown dragout fight.
There were more. But in the time I'd left, one big event was on everyone's lips. And it wasn't good news.
You see, Phil Grayfield had been hired to be a corporate sponsored hero.
June 18th, 2014
Phil Grayfield
When Phil had smashed his right knee saving a little girl who had fallen out of a building, that had ended his football career. It was impossible to run, jump, to tackle, when your knee was constantly seconds from ripping out from under you.
Worth it. It was strange. Paul had spent his entire life fighting to become a professional football player. He'd spent hours training while friends partied, broke his body in the gym and on the field perfecting his skills, then nearly as much time studying tactics, watching old footage. Mastering himself as best as he could, giving up everything.
And then, when he had made it, he sacrificed it for a little girl's life. But he hadn't minded.
She lived. She later gave him a gap-toothed shy smile and said 'thank you'.
Phil lost everything, and gained more.
So when the NFL reached out to him again with an offer to come work for them again, not as a player, but as a hero, he had agreed immediately. He knew that they just chose him because he'd ended up newsworthy. A cameraman hired to follow him around by the name of Ken Reid had laid it out.
"They coulda picked anyone. But you made the news and you've got the hype, baby. NFL needs to jump on the hero train, bring in the views!"
But… it was worth it. Phil had saved someone. And he would do it again and again.
The NFL gave him a codename that he honestly hated. SuperPro, really?
The other things were nicer. A battle suit designed by Hammer Industries, created to rival the Iron Man armor. It wasn't even close to being as good, but it was very durable, with a handy feature that let it absorb kinetic energy and let him unleash it back.
Basically, he was immune to everything, and could dish it back just as goddamn hard. He also got injected by some sort of serum from AIM? Whatever it was, it had healed his knee and given him all his skills back and more.
And then, on his first mission in New York, he got kicked through a building by a guy with robotic stilt-legs escaping a prison.
That was… embarrassing.
Later ones were better. Stopping a robbery, taking down a drug dealer, saving a suicidal man from jumping off a bridge.
Even with all the cameras, lights, and publicity, the new fame, saving those people was the best thing Phil had ever done.
Today though, he was feeling out of his depth.
"A… terrorist attack?" Phil asked, unable to keep the horror from his voice. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"It's just some idiots trying to make a statement," Ken, his cameraman, said, though he sounded a bit shaky in the throat. The two of them were in the back of the SuperProMobile, a red white and blue armored car the NFL had provided for them second-hand. The back was filled with computer screens, video monitors, and a radio set, all with the Stark Industries label stamped on the side. It was supposed to be his mobile headquarters.
It was more like a very tough news van that Ken could edit in. But the radio was tuned to the police bandwidth, so that was useful. That was how they ended up outside the MetLife Stadium in New Jersey, with dozens of police officers, SWAT, and news vans and helicopters circling overhead.
"A guy named Mallen, former SHIELD who left before the whole Hydra thing," Ken explained. "He's leading a group of domestic terrorists he's calling The Targeted, and they're holding the stadium hostage in return for having their demands met."
"What are the demands?" Phil asked, trying to emulate the sorts of questions he'd seen on TV. He'd tried his best to train and learn, but he'd been dropped into all this a bit suddenly.
"The immediate release of some of his old buddies that turned out to be Hydra, 25 million dollars, a helicopter, and a lot more. The list is like, fifteen pages long," Ken spun to grin at Phil, a smarmy sort of grin. "Who cares though? Go in, kick some ass, then come out and I'll make you look good!"
Phil frowned. "That can't be all. This stadium can hold, what, 80,000 people? How many guys does he have?"
"Maybe 50, covering the exits? A lot of ex-merc guys."
"Ex-mercs, ex-SHIELD!? Ken, I've fought gangbangers! Not trained soldiers. Why aren't the Avengers here?"
"Cause the bosses grabbed this first. Phil, baby, we can't keep working small time jobs, not if you wanna get attention."
"I don't want attention, I just want to help people."
Ken's grin fell for just a moment before he forced it back. "Well this is how! Just go in, let that Hammertech suit protect you, and save everybody! SWAT and cops are going in at the same time you are, so they'll have your back."
That was a lot more comforting. What Ken said next was less so.
"Besides, think of the ratings! We're going to get such great press out of this!"
"..." Phil silently rose up and opened the doors. Outside, a pair of cops were waiting for him. Phil joined them and walked towards where others were gathered, carrying weapons and wearing tough looking armor.
"Best of luck, Philly!" Ken said cheerily, turning in his chair.
Ken was a good guy. Just way too hungry for ratings.
With the folks who were gathered together, a man was speaking. "While they did lock down the exits, the main guys are on the field, and they've forced the civilians to get as close to the field as possible. We'd snipe them, but we can't get to the top of the building without being spotted. So we have teams covering each exit. Team 1 has Bud Light Gate, Team 2 has HCLTech, 3 has Verizon, and 4 will cover the MetLife Gate. Team 5, you and SuperPro will hit Moody's Gate."
The man pointed at Phil firmly. "You guys will take them down and rush towards the field. Team 2 and 3 will get up into the stands for positions. The rest of us will focus on getting the hostages out and emptying the stadium. SuperPro, you've got Mallen. He's apparently got some kind of powers, but we don't know what, so you'll hit him."
"SuperPro? Really?" A woman in SWAT gear asked.
"I didn't pick the name," Phil chuckled.
"Stow it. We need to move." The lead man said. "All teams, you have your missions. SuperPro, your team moves on you. Head out."
They all nodded and let out sounds of agreement. Phil swallowed nervously. This felt… intense. He thought he'd understood being nervous. He'd felt it when he first joined the NFL, first played college games, hell, even felt it before high school games.
But this was next level. Still. People needed help. Clenching his fists, Phil forced his heavy legs to move, forced himself to ignore the sweat on his brow, and followed his orders.
They all separated, moving across the pavement quickly. Phil clenched and unclenched his fists as he jogged next to the law enforcement officers. They approached the gate in question. It had blue
"The gates in view," Someone on the radio said into Phil's headset. "We move as one. All teams in position?"
"Team 5 in position," The SWAT woman next to Phil said as they took cover behind a van. Up ahead, there were six men guarding the gates to the arena, standing just behind the turnstiles that lead to an open space just before the opening into the place.
There were also bodies. Several dead bodies. Some were dressed like security, but there were more dressed for the game. Some were very small. Phil swallowed, disgust and fear filling him before he forced it down.
Once all the teams confirmed positions, the team lead barked. "All teams, move in!"
"I'll take point," Phil said with confidence he didn't entirely feel. He swallowed.
Then he spun out of cover and started running, full tilt.
The six mercenaries sighted him immediately. They lifted their guns and started shooting, moving so fast that it shocked Phil even as he forced himself to keep running. The mercs were all dressed the same, in black tight armor with a blue 'X' pattern of raised material across their chests.
Bullets hit his body. Phil swallowed at the sensation of them bouncing off his armor. He'd been shot at before, but always by much smaller guns. These ones were louder and the bullets sounded different as they bounced off.
But still, they bounced off. Phil got into the middle of the mercs, slamming into three of them in a tackle he'd practiced a million times. For just a moment, he was back on the field, smashing into a defensive line with all his might.
With his new strength, instead of simply hitting them, the three mercs went flying backwards, one rolling on the ground, another slamming into the Moody's Gate rooftop, and the last smashing into one of his friends.
One guy approached Phil, aiming at his helmet with a big gun and firing a whole lot of bullets directly into his faceplate. Phil was blinded for a moment by the bullets bouncing off. Then a single shot rang, and his assailant was on the floor.
The cops had arrived. SWAT moved with professionalism, using Phil's distraction to get into position before gunning down the mercs.
"Go, go, go!" The main SWAT leader shouted, rushing forward through the gate. Phil quickly caught up and overtook her.
It was funny. He'd played in the MetLife Stadium before. Now he was back in the familiar halls again, for a very different purpose. At least he still remembered his way around. Leading the way for the group of SWAT, they sprinted through the halls. At one point, a discarded hot dog was destroyed under his boot before they found more opposition.
More mercs, five of them. Phil didn't stop sprinting, moving in towards them. It was why he wasn't able to stop before the grenade rolled to his feet. The explosion sent him flying backwards, his ears screaming at him. He ended up on his back, staring at the ceiling.
The actual explosion hadn't hurt, his armor had done his job, but god his ears. Suddenly a merc was on top of him. He barely got a glimpse of the knife before he caught the guys by the wrist, stopping him from jamming the 12 inch blade under his helmet and into his throat.
They struggled for a brief moment before Phil's super-soldier strength won out, pushing the guy off long enough for a SWAT guy to shoot him in the face. Phil rolled to his feet, looking around to see the other mercs were dead. As were two SWAT members.
He didn't have time to let that devastate him. The SWAT leader grabbed his arm, pulling him along. "Come on! We need to move before they can stop us!"
"I-I'm on it!" Phil stammered out, forcing himself to move. He ran his ass off, once again outpacing the SWAT team. They got to a hallway leading into the football field, passing several dead bodies that Phil forced himself to ignore.
This was… too much. He had seen death since becoming a sponsored hero. But not on this scale, not this indiscriminately. They reached the field. For a moment, just one… Phil was back.
His feet running across grass, his football gear across his body, a team by his side. The nostalgia filled him from head to toe.
Then a gunshot rang out. And all the nostalgia was replaced by stress again.
Across from them, the mercs had set up some kind of device, strapped up to blocks of C4. A bomb. A true blue bomb. The civilians in the stands had been forced to get as close to the field as possible, packed together like sardines, with bodies of dead people dotting the arena, presumably those who tried to fight back.
All the civilians in the stands were screaming as SWAT ran into the stands to start shooting the terrorists.
Phil focused on his own job. Moving with every bit of speed in him, he rushed across the field, slamming into the first merc he found with a fist to the chest powered with everything he had.
The merc blocked with his arms. It had all the usefulness of a screen door on a submarine. He went flying back, crashing into one of his friends twenty feet behind him.
"COME ON!" Phil roared at the top of his lungs. The former player was back on the field. He charged for the next person.
Someone else sped to meet him instead. His fist met the other guy's. And came to a halt.
Phil froze in shock. Ever since getting his powers, his suit, nothing had stopped his fist. He knew, on some level, that he wasn't the strongest hero out there. Even ignoring the pinnacle, Hulk, Iron Man, Dial, there were others who were strong enough to beat him, obviously. Always someone better out there.
But that was different from actually facing it.
"Jesus," the man who'd stopped him said with a smug grin. Phil stared at him. The man went from meeting Phil fist to fist, to grabbing his wrist and pulling him close. The man looked… like a monster. Pale white skin. Bright red eyes. It was the smirk that made Phil realize who he was looking at. "I really wanted an Avenger. Who the fuck are you?"
"Mallen," Phil hissed out.
"Nah," Mallen grabbed Phil by his gaudy red, white, and blue costume and lifted him into the air. "That's me, cupcake."
Mallen smashed him into the ground with enough force to crater the ground. And Phil gasped in pain.
Suit limiters adjusting for new power output.
Those simple words filled him with dread. The suit, to preserve power, had limiters to make sure he was safe without wasting energy. The goddamn grenade hadn't forced the limiter to increase.
"Oh?" Mallen grinned down at Phil. "You didn't break?"
A series of blood spurts from his chest drew Mallen's attention. The terrorist looked up at the SWAT leaders shooting him. Mallen smirked at them as the spots on his chest glowed red, healing in mere seconds while bullets fell from the holes to land on the dazed Phil.
"Be right back. Got cops to kill," Mallen moved towards the SWAT men and women fighting his men. And Phil's hand on his ankle stopped him. Mallen glanced at him like he was dirt on his boot.
So it must have been a shock when Phil snapped to his feet and tossed Mallen twenty feet into the air.
Mallen landed in a crumbled pile, the sounds of bones breaking filling the air. Phil gasped out a breath. "You aren't touching them."
Mallen glared at Phil. Rising up slowly, his broken bones flowed together in glowing streaks of red heat, the man healing in seconds. "Oh yeah? Who are you, anyways?"
For a moment, just one, Phil almost said that dumb name. Instead… "Phil Grayfield. Now come on."
"...All right," Mallen moved, fast enough that Phil barely caught sight of him. Phil raised his arms to block a punch, Mallen sending him sliding back even as his suit absorbed the kinetic impact. Phil hurriedly threw his own punch, cracking Mallen's jaw apart in a splash of blood and bone.
Mallen laughed, returning the punch with one of his own as his jaw healed in a flash of heat. Then Mallen breathed fire.
"Jesus Christ!" A SWAT member screamed. Phil would have agreed, but instead he uppercut Mallen, shutting his mouth. His suit now on fire, screaming warnings in his ear, Phil forced himself to punch again.
The two superhumans began beating the hell out of each other, punching over and over. Phil's suit kept him safe, but he wasn't skilled enough to match Mallen's SHIELD training. And while Phil's was hurting Mallen, he kept healing in bursts of red heat.
Finally, the words Phil had been waiting for came in.
"The bombs disabled!" The SWAT leader shouted over the radio.
Phil kicked out at Mallen, sending him flying back to roll on the grass. Phil grit his teeth, breathing hard. "It's over!"
"Eric Mallen!" the SWAT members gathered around them, aiming their guns at Mallen. "You're under arrest! Lay down!"
Mallen looked around. His fellow mercs were dead. The bombs he had set were disabled. Even with his healing, he couldn't take on Phil and all the SWAT officers around him.
Phil felt relief fill him. Until Mallen smiled.
It was soft. Almost whimsical.
"...I really hoped for an Avenger," Mallen met Phil's eyes. Mallen's eyes began to glow with a very familiar red heat. "But you'll do."
" Take him dow-" The SWAT woman began to shout before Phil tackled her, covering her up as best as he could.
Mallen spread his arms wide. And became fire.
The sound of it was insane. So far beyond anything Phil had ever experienced that he had nothing to compare it to. When the silence came in, it was a blessing, until Phil felt blood from his ears pouring across his cheeks. The force of it made his suit ring with alarms, the energy within it beginning to die out even as it was powered by that same kinetic force. The only scream before he lost his hearing was the woman he was protecting from the heat, force, and shockwaves.
And then… it was over. Phil gasped, then coughed when dust flooded his lungs. He stared at the SWAT woman he'd protected. She was safe. Defended by the same suit that protected him. Phil finished coughing, still unable to hear. Then he looked up.
"...Oh god," Phil said.
The MetLife Stadium was… destroyed.. Along with everyone inside. Far above, helicopters circled, and the jumbotron fell into the stands in a pile of destroyed metal. The field was ashes. The stands were full of rubble, melted plastic, and dead bodies. And the bodies were…
Phil Grayfield, the NFL SuperPro, stared around himself, one of the only two survivors out of over 65,000 civilians and SWAT members, in the middle of the devastation. With news helicopters above to catch the whole thing.
"Oh god," Phil went to his knees, tears mixing with the blood on his cheeks. "Wha-... I…I wanted to help."
Author's Note: So yeah. I introduced NFL SuperPro, a famous gimmick sponsored comic character, then had him take on Mallen.
Both characters will be back, but the important thing is that... I guess, I don't really need to explain it further. Mallen, in truth, has a sponsor who will benefit from what happened. The rest of us have to deal with it.
So now. The Avengers, and all other superheroes in the world, have to deal with the devastation that follows, and try to defend themselves.
Next chapter will be on my pa tre on, but I might end up pushing the writing of it faster, considering what this event is. Let me know what you think.