The rest of the meeting went better than I expected. Even Matt was onboard with the Limbo rescue mission, since it was focused on saving people. He didn't like the other bit, though.
Taking a sip of gin from my glass, I spoke. "But the hard part is after the whole mess is done…"
"Immigration?" he asked, and I nodded.
"I mean, half of the people down there were born in literal hell with no country of origin, and every single one of them has one mutation or another that made them worth preserving—at least from the demons' perspective. All that is to say…"
"They're walking weapons," Colleen surmised, "or at least everybody will think they are."
The globe would be more desperate than ever, with Nova Corp making inroads alongside SHIELD. It might claim to be here for global strategic defense, but we all really knew whose biscuit SHIELD was buttering. Hell, the entire upper management was American.
"They'll fight tooth and nail to establish even the vaguest of legal claims," Matt said, anguish creeping into his voice, "and even if they don't end up militarizing the current population, they will push harder with each subsequent generation." His face had grown increasingly pale. "These people… they'll never get to live a normal life, will they?"
"Realistically? No," I answered, taking another sip from my glass.
"Can they just do that?" Peter asked.
"Yes," I said simply, "and probably with a lot fewer repercussions than you think. That's the funny thing about power. You can make up your own rules as you go. The U.S. and a handful of other countries are the only ones that even pretend their laws matter."
Peter cringed. "So what are you going to do?"
"Ideally?" I sucked my teeth. "I've been working on an offshore solution—an island nation where people can just be. It'll be open to everyone. Humans, mutants, aliens, demons, enhanced. You name it."
Matt's eyes widened. "You want to grant them some kind of diplomatic protection."
I snapped my fingers. "Nothing makes a government do a double-take quite like a walking nuke."
"You can't just snap your fingers and make a country," Daredevil said, frustration seeping into his voice.
"Pretty sure I can. New countries spring up all the time."
"That's not the point!" Matt practically yelled. "If you do this, they'll come after you. Every government. Every spy organization. They'll say you're using your powers to force people into your organization."
I shrugged. "They already say that about me, and I don't see any easy alternative. Do you?"
Matt scoffed. "Giving them new identities? Actually asking them what they want?"
"I'll do both and let them decide their fate, but this island nation thing is going ahead, whether or not I have the bulk of mutants supporting me."
"Why?" Peter asked, prompting me to nod at him. I lifted the fork from my dinner plate and idly twirled it with practiced dexterity.
"Mutants don't have a safe haven. Not really. And trust is at an all-time low, partly thanks to us, the demons, and the eldritch presence," I said.
"Us?" Jessica stopped eating her salad mid-bite, glaring at me. "What did we do?"
"The warehouse. The cities the Widows and I hit during our fights. For the longest time, we skated under public attention, but now the world knows about us, and they're very afraid. And they're right to be." I paused. "The problem is there are too many of them and not enough of us. The mutant registration bill would've passed if the demons hadn't gotten involved, and I hear the Senate is restructuring it—adding provisions that'll encourage the development of more anti-mutant and superhuman weapons. We need distance. And protection."
Peter's head dropped. "It's all happening too fast…" he muttered.
"That it is," I admitted.
The silence stretched between us.
"What do you want me to do, exactly?" Matt finally asked.
"Help me put together a good legal team. I'm going to need to find a way to push all of this through without stepping on too many political toes."
"I doubt that's possible," Matt snorted.
"Not with that attitude, Matt," I grinned. "You'd be surprised what you can achieve with a ridiculous amount of money, power, and patience."
I slid out of the booth, keeping the silencing enchantment in place. "I'm off. I'll look into that enchantment you asked for, Jessica. And I welcome you to forward any other requests so I can include them in your final armor design for the Limbo op." I winked as I turned away. "If you need me, you know how to find me."
I teleported just as I exited the door, appearing on the balcony of Stark's private laboratory.
Alarms blared. "Unauthorized personnel detected. Activating defensive measures."
Metal slits opened in the ceiling, and turrets bearing beam weapons swung into place. A hidden transmitter emitted a high-pitched whine that made me feel faintly tingly. Anyone weaker would've been nauseous and weak at the knees. I looked up at the camera.
"Tony, it's me. I can't believe you still haven't added me to the guest list."
"Unauthorized personnel detected," the voice repeated, but this one lacked JARVIS's usual monotone perfection.
"Tony? You know I can hear you, right?"
"You flatter me, but I am not Mr. Stark, the greatest mind of the twenty-first century."
"That's a bit much," I said, rolling my eyes as the weapons powered up. "Just let me in before I turn your defenses into scrap. We have business to discuss."
Tony huffed over the microphone. "Kids these days. No sense of humor."
The metal doors swung open, granting me access to Tony's lab-slash-bachelor pad. A new-generation armor stood assembled on a platform, made from equal parts Devourer leather, Twilight Adamantium, Vibranium alloys, and bleeding-edge mechanical tech, surrounded by holographic displays. More traditional Iron Man armors sat behind reinforced glass, alongside finished exoskeletons, soldier-fitted combat suits, and half a dozen experimental designs.
I whistled. Tony had gotten nearly as much done as I had—and he'd been limited to conventional time. It was easy to forget just how much of a genius he really was.
"I see the armor is coming together," I said, nodding toward it.
"Coming together nicely," he replied. "Those Novans really know their stuff. Cut production time by ninety-three percent."
I whistled again. "Shit. Maybe I should take a look at their tech."
Tony scoffed. "Fury would burst a blood vessel."
I laughed. "Still, I'm worried about who comes after the Novans." I produced a small device from my dimension. Two separate balls of writhing nanotech hovered above it, undulating and pressing against the telekinetic barrier keeping them contained.
Tony blinked. Then gaped. "Is that—"
"Yup. Nanotech," I said. "Ripped it out of a Kree prince and his bodyguard during my trip down below. The wider galaxy knows about Ascendants—or at least the big demon factions do. They'll want our mutants, and they'll bring their technology and magic with them."
"Out of the frying pan and into the fire, huh?" Tony said, already moving closer. He peered at the nanotech. "Still… I can't bring myself to be mad. We're decades away from producing anything this sophisticated."
"Makes me think it's better that the foremost mind of the twenty-first century has it," I said, handing him the device.
Tony chuckled. "I think you meant the greatest."
"Don't count your chickens before they hatch, Tony," I said as he carried the rune-scribed device away, prodding at its surface as it rippled beneath his touch. "And don't wish it out of the containment orbs until you're ready."
"Will it—?" Tony began, then snapped his fingers. "Right. Intent-based enchantments." He looked up begrudgingly. "Speaking of intent, do you still plan on making and distributing armor like we discussed?"
"Seems more vital now than ever," I said. "It'll also earn me political capital with major nations—show them I'm willing to play ball and give them a way to defend themselves." I paused. "Of course, I'll be charging them out the nose."
Tony's lips twitched. "Of course."
"And our prototype?" I asked, glancing back at the armor. "Is it ready?"
"Why don't we head out to sea and find out?" Tony smirked.
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