"So you're saying the only Avenger left on that carrier… is Steve?"
"Correct."
"Tch. What about anyone else strong enough to matter? Any mutants or super-types lurking around?"
"Didn't see any."
"Fine. Keep your comms open. Ping me if something changes."
"Got it."
The line cut off with a soft click.
Ryuuto leaned back, rubbing his temples. He'd pegged Ant-Man as one of the corrupted by now, yet it turned out the guy had simply lost the scepter by sheer stupidity. Still, he was trying to fix his own mess, so Ryuuto let it slide—for now.
About ten minutes later, Tony started receiving missile codes Ant-Man had risked his neck to steal.
Every time a new one came in, Tony would crack the encryption, generate a "freeze code," and bounce it back to him.
Meanwhile, aboard the Helicarrier, Ant-Man crept across a row of missiles the size of buildings. The launch bay doors hissed open—Abomination stomped in, with Nick Fury trailing close behind.
Ant-Man shrank smaller, perching unseen on a pipe.
Abomination gazed at the sleek, silver missiles with a grin that could curdle metal.
"Tonight," he growled, "we erase Axville Mutant Academy—and that smug bastard Ryuuto—from existence. Nick, you know what comes next?"
"I'm listening."
Abomination's smile spread like a crack across stone.
"I'm going to become President of the United States. Every other nation will bow under it, and I'll rule this planet. From there—outer space. I'll turn Earth into my launchpad, use this scepter to control the Guardians of the Galaxy, and conquer the stars."
Nick nodded slowly. "That's… ambitious."
"Damn right it is. So this plan cannot—will not—fail!"
He spat the next words like venom.
"That idiot Magneto still thinks I'm recruiting him tomorrow. Meanwhile, I told him noon on purpose, knowing he'd warn Charles. That means the X-Men are wide open tonight. When the portal opens, I'll fire a high-heat missile straight through. Instant cremation. Efficient."
"Is it foolproof?"
"As long as the Tesseract's coordinates are accurate, yes."
Nick's expression stayed neutral. "After New York, the targeting algorithms got reworked. It can now teleport anywhere—Loki's mess actually taught us a lot. If he hadn't hijacked Dr. Erik's research, we'd never have figured out how to program the coordinates."
"Then the next step," Abomination said, pacing like a mad prophet, "is Asgard. The moment Earth kneels, we open a portal straight to their golden gates. One missile, surface-sun temperature, and even their gods will melt."
"I heard they've got a planetary barrier."
"Then we'll find out the hard way."
His boots thudded away, voice echoing through the chamber.
"I want to see Ryuuto beg for mercy… before he turns to ash."
Once the room emptied, Ant-Man scurried along the missile bay, double-checking each code before uploading Tony's freeze program. His tiny smirk twitched behind the helmet.
Abomination's ego could fill a black hole. Dead man walking.
Back at Axville Academy, night rolled in. Ryuuto, Tony, and Banner were already gearing up.
The plan: wait for the Tesseract portal to open, then storm through and hit the enemy from behind.
Ryuuto had wanted to bring Susan and Katie Dee, but… well, Susan was still recovering from "training damage" from earlier. She could barely walk straight at dinner. So she and Katie stayed behind in the villa.
Natasha and the others were told to rest as backup. Cyclops was too risky—his optic blast could slice the Helicarrier in half. As for Arlo, his lightning would probably fry the engines before the fight even started.
So, it was down to the main trio—and technically a fourth, counting the hidden Ant-Man onboard.
Just as they were heading out, Ryuuto caught a faint tune echoing from above. Someone was humming on the third-floor railing, legs dangling over the edge.
He squinted up.
A man in red and black leather hopped down effortlessly, landing with a cocky grin. Headphones hung around his neck.
"Yo," the guy greeted. "What's the deal? Place is too quiet for a school night."
The outfit said it all—Ryuuto knew that costume anywhere.
Deadpool.
Charles had tried recruiting him years ago. It went about as well as trying to train a tornado.
Ryuuto's eyes narrowed as Deadpool's hand drifted to his holsters.
"What are you doing here?"
"You're Ryuuto, right?"
"If you own a TV, you already know that."
"Oh, I own one," Deadpool said casually. "But I usually watch late-night channels. Blonde heroines, soft jazz, low budgets—you get me? With a glass of white wine, it's practically art."
Ryuuto deadpanned. "You're not here to discuss cinema."
"Correct!" Deadpool suddenly drew his pistols, barrels flashing. "I'm here… to die!"