One • Underground
The factory stood unoccupied for years, half-demolished, dangerous, yet somehow unassuming. It was the kind of building the citizens of New York City were used to seeing as they passed by, unsure of what it used to be, barely noticing its presence as it stood alone in the middle of a lot surrounded by chained fences and barbed wire.
Weeds and greenery escaped through cracks in the concrete, while unwanted furniture and bags of trash sat untouched, tossed over the fence and forgotten about like the building itself. It welcomed urban explorers, film students and teenagers looking for a place to drink and spray paint walls. There was a gap in the fence, just big enough for someone to squeeze through, a heavy metal door at the back of the old factory hanging off its hinges.
Inside, the cracked, crumbling walls were covered in graffiti and vines. Windows were boarded up, some broken, letting in slivers of light on the dust-filled hallways.
Spencer Wick wandered carefully over the heaps of rubble. He had a camera in his backpack and a torch in hand as he explored each dilapidated floor, taking photographs and recording his findings for his blog when suddenly, he heard something.
It was like a collection of voices, whispering intelligibly. It was genderless, language-less, yet somehow he found himself drawn towards it. He walked down towards the basement, climbing carefully down the broken concrete steps with his flashlight as his eyes. But as he turned a corner, another light illuminated the space.
Veins of purples and blues rippled in the air, like a cloud of moving tendrils surrounding a deep, black hole. But the hole was darker than black; a complete absence of light radiating a sense of dread, of evil. The whispering grew louder as he approached it, as if it were beckoning him closer, daring him to reach out and touch it.
He reached inside and his arm began to burn, as if the energy was burning the flesh from his bones as it climbed up to his shoulder and spread across his face. He let out a scream and pulled his arm out, dropping onto his back, his body convulsing against the hard, cold ground.
*
A woman grabbed her two children and held them close, pressing their faces into her chest to shield their eyes. The man beside them clutched his seat, bracing for impact as the train jerked around a sharp bend.
Groups of passengers hurried to the windows, shouting and crying out as they laid eyes on the warped track up ahead. It had been lifted from the ground, skewed and bent like rubber as if it were being sucked into the air by a vacuum.
The horrified people watched on helplessly as they hurtled towards it. But suddenly, their panicked screams turned to gasps and murmurs as a ring of bright orange sparks began to materialised up ahead.
Doctor Strange glided out of the portal, his cloak guiding him smoothly through the air. He stopped, hovering near the broken track and examining the dimensional rift that had somehow torn through the atmosphere.
"Mm," he hummed deep in his throat, as if he were thinking, as if he was in no rush.
The screeching of metal caught his attention. He turned to see the train approaching fast, the driver's terrified face through the window.
He raised his hands and conjured a large portal, watching as the train disappeared into it and emerged moments later on the other side of the damage, continuing safely along the track.
"Well that's one problem down," he said to himself before turning back to the rift and cocking his head. "Now for you."
*
Stephen arrived at the sanctum, removing his cloak as he walked and watching as it soared away up the stairs. He pulled open the heavy door that led to Kamar Taj and stepped through.
"Was it a time tear like we thought?" asked Wong as he stood at the large stone table in the middle of the room.
"Dimensional rift," he replied. "Fixed it."
"Yes, I can see that."
They both looked up at the glittering clusters of light floating above the table merging together to form an image of Earth, some lights brighter than others scattered across the planet.
Stephen walked through the temple, sharing nods with people as he passed. He stepped out onto the courtyard and leaned against a pillar to watch the training session - the amateur mystics trying to conjure magical weapons, duelling with sticks, practicing spells. In the corner of the courtyard, he saw her. She was standing still, eyes closed as a sorcerer circled her slowly.
Juno had trained with them every day since she arrived at Kamar Taj; using their practices to control her power and subdue the mind stone. After two years, her body was still a car. Yet now, she was always the one behind the wheel, the stone tucked away safely in the trunk. She opened one eye and glanced in his direction, as if she had sensed his presence the moment he arrived.
She walked through the busy courtyard towards him. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" she said.
"I was in the neighbourhood," he joked. "Thought I'd stop by."
"Ah." She nodded as she began to walk with him through the temple. "You've been working."
"Hm?"
She gestured to his hands.
He held them out in front of him, noticing the tremor that always got worse after he exerted himself. She stopped walking and took his hands in hers, wrapping them in a gentle glow until they calmed.
"I swear I didn't come here to get you to do that," he said.
She laughed softly. "Yeah yeah."
They went into her room. It was buried down the back of a small nook deep within the temple. Hidden. She'd gotten used to hiding.
"So what was it?" she asked as she sat down on a chair near the small window.
"I closed a dimensional rift on some train tracks. Saved a bunch of people, no big deal," he replied, a teasing smugness in his tone.
"You did it alone?"
He nodded.
"I could've helped."
"I'm sure you could've. But there was no need. The risk of exposing you was greater than my risk of failure."
"As always."
He rolled his eyes and sat down on the edge of her bed.
"So," she said. "You never answered me... To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I just... wanted to come see you." He shrugged.
"They told you I got out again, didn't they."
"They may have mentioned something..."
She laughed, resting her elbow on the windowsill. "I just went into the village for a walk around, okay? I wore a headscarf, sunglasses, didn't use my powers once."
"I'm not here to tell you off. I just wanted to make sure you're... okay. You tend to try run away a lot when you're not."
"Run away," she laughed, standing up and walking over to the bed. "You make me sound like a kid." She sat down beside him with a sigh. "I'm bored, Stephen. I feel useless, restless, lonely."
"I'm sorry," he replied. "This won't be forever."
"You said that two years ago."
"And I still mean it. It won't be forever. But right now, this is the safest place for you to be."
She looked up at him. "You're lucky I trust you."
"You're lucky I trust myself."
They shared a gently smirk, a soft laugh and a lingering glance. Stephen dropped his gaze and cleared his throat.
"I better go," he said as he stood up and made his way to the door.
"You could stick around for a little while, if you wanted to?"
"I want to. But I can't."
She sighed and followed him out of the room. "More people to save?"
"The world's a big place." He looked down at her and gave an arrogant smile.
She let out a laugh as she continued to walk at his side. They talked quietly together as they wandered through the temple.
*
The Avengers HQ had been upgraded; rebuilt and extended thanks to a generous donation from Pepper Potts. It had sleeping quarters, communal areas, training facilities and extensive labs where Bruce Banner spent the majority of his time.
It was a large, sleek building surrounded by thick woodland and impenetrable gates. It had its own runway and landing pads, garages full of aircrafts and vehicles. Though it never quite felt the same after Tony died, this was the closest they had been to feeling like a team again.
Sam was still wearing the sweatpants and hoodie from his run, his earphones still playing music as he sat at a long meeting table with his laptop.
"Hey," he called out as Rhodey and Scott passed by.
They stopped and wandered inside.
"Have you seen this guy?" said Sam as he swivelled the laptop around. "Runs a blog called 'The Second Snap'."
Rhodey's brow furrowed. "The second snap?"
"Yeah. You know, the second..." he clicked his fingers, mimicking Thanos. "Snap."
"What? Seriously?" said Scott, pulling up a chair and burying his face in the laptop.
"Yeah. Says it's for people who believe a second snap is coming to 'wipe out the weak'."
"So by blog, you mean cult," said Rhodey.
"Yeah, this is giving off major cult-vibes," said Scott. "He says only the 'powerful' will be spared."
"Oh and let me guess, for just ten easy instalment of $99.95, he'll teach you all the tips and tricks to becoming powerful too?"
They laughed.
"Probably," said Sam. "Y'know the sad thing is people will actually fall for this stuff."
*
Spencer Wick stood in front of the large black mass in the abandoned basement. A small group of people stood watching him, their eyes glowing with the reflection of the bluish purple light rippling around it.
"The second snap is coming and we must prepare," said Spencer, his voice loud and commanding. "Only the powerful will be spared."
"What is it?" asked one of the people.
"This... This is our chance. To change ourselves and become part of the saved few."
They looked around at each other with a mixture of awe and fear.
"It sought me out. Brought me here to share its gift with the world." He turned and gestured to the thing. "So who wants to go first?"
There was a murmur, no one stepping forward or raising their hands.
A girl cleared her throat. "W-what will happen?"
"You'll become more powerful than you could've ever imagined. You'll be saved."
Still, no one stepped forward. Their excitement turning to doubt as the black mass began to hiss and whisper behind him.
"No one? Really!?" He laughed. "Fine."
They watched in silence as he took down his hood and unzipped his jacket. But as he slid it down and threw it to the ground, there was a quiet gasp.
Light was pulsating through his veins and arteries, his bones glowing and visible through his flesh like an X-ray. It covered his right arm, spreading across his chest and up onto his face, as if he had been hit with a blast of light that only reached half of him.
He walked up to a man in the crowd and pulled him forward. The man was large, well-built and muscular, taller than everyone else there. Yet Spencer lifted him from the ground as if he were light as air. He dragged him towards the black hole and threw him inside.
There was silence. The group of people waited anxiously, huddling together in fear as Spencer paced back and forth clenching and unclenching his glowing fist. The swirls of light around the hole began to move rapidly, as if the thing was breathing, chewing the man up before spitting him back out again.
He fell to the ground with a loud thud, the concrete cracking beneath his body weight. He was growling like an animal as he rose to his feet, nostrils flaring on his distorted face. His skin had turned a deep blue, his muscles larger as he towered over everyone, taking up twice the space as he had before.
Spencer grinned. "How do you feel, my friend?"
He roared, pivoting on his heels and driving his fist through the brick wall.
"Powerful?"
He turned back to him, breathing heavily and baring his teeth before forcing a slight nod.
"Who's next?" said Spencer.
One by one, the people threw themselves inside the mass. Some willingly, others out of fear. Some didn't return, not strong enough to withstand the darkness. Others crawled and stumbled out of it, each one enhanced with the dark energy.
A man had hidden behind a pillar, peering around it and covering his mouth in horror. Spencer turned his head sharply as he tried to back away, walking slowly and calmly towards him as he took off in a sprint towards the stairs.
The man scrambled up the stairs, stopping halfway up when he felt a burning in his back. He looked down to see a fist protruding from his chest, the taste of metal on his tongue.
"I gave you the chance to become something great," said Spencer, his voice eerily gentle.
He pulled back and watched the man drop to the floor, his blood pooling from the hole in his torso. He looked down at him and tutted before shaking off the blood that had coated his arm and walking back towards the others.
"Spread our message," he said. "Show them what you can do. They either join us... Or they die."