The following week was a whirlwind of steel, fire, and liberation. Kael lost count of how many secret installations they attacked, how many cells they broke open, how many terrified faces they saw transform into hope. But with each destroyed base, each freed mutant, his irritation grew like an infected wound. The quantity wasn't a coincidence; it was a pattern.
At the last base, a biotech company facade in the middle of a city, his anger peaked. As SHIELD agents led the rescued mutants to evacuation vehicles, Kael approached Natasha Romanoff. The smell of smoke and cordite still hung heavy in the air.
"One week, Natasha," his voice was low, but sharp as a blade. "Fifteen installations. Fifteen. You want me to believe that SHIELD, with all its satellites, spies, and resources, only discovered the exact location of all of them this past week?"
Natasha didn't avoid his gaze, but he saw the tiny contraction in the muscles around her mouth. "Intelligence is a fluid thing, Kael. Opportunities arise..."
"Stop," he interrupted, his patience wearing thin. His enhanced senses picked up everything: her slightly accelerated heartbeat, the almost imperceptible change in her scent – the subtle aroma of stress. "You already knew. You knew for months, maybe years. And you watched. Collected data. Let those people rot in cages while you decided if it was worth acting. Don't give me excuses."
He spat the words with disdain. The mission may have been noble, but the motivation behind it – the politics, the calculation – disgusted him.
To his surprise, Natasha's lips curved into a slow, deliberately sensual smile. She completely ignored his accusation, changing the tone of the conversation with a mastery only the Black Widow possessed.
"All this tension isn't good for you, Kael," she said, her voice a thread of silk. "If you ever want to... decompress. Dinner. Something more. You know where to find me." She winked at him, a bold and inviting gesture.
Kael analyzed her micro-expressions once more. The dilation of her pupils, the slight flush on her cheeks, the sincere tone beneath the performance. She wasn't bluffing. The offer was genuine. An ordinary man would have stumbled over his own feet.
Kael, however, let out a short, muffled laugh. He shook his head, an ironic smile on his own lips.
"Thanks for the offer, Widow," he said, his tone now more relaxed but still firm. "But I have a particular Storm to handle my... tension. And I think you should fear her more than me, if you ever think of being more persistent."
Natasha's smile didn't falter, but he saw a new respect in her eyes. She accepted the rejection with the same grace with which she had made the offer. "Your loss. The offer stands." She turned and walked away, her walk still a work of art in motion.
The journey back to the X-Mansion aboard the X-Jet was silent. The rescued mutants were exhausted, some still in shock. Kael leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. As he did daily, even if for just a few seconds of real time, he sent his consciousness into his inner kingdom.
His perception materialized in the heart of his main village. The air, always clean and charged with Aether energy, was a blessing after the stench of blood and concrete. The village was a construction site. In the center, where the Village Heart pulsed, his stocky figures worked frantically - the three original Builders and the fourth he had recently recruited.
"More pressure on the hammer, number four!", one of the older builders shouted, his voice a rough growl. "We want these walls to withstand a Stone Golem's attack, not a strong breeze!"
They were upgrading the Town Hall to Level 7. Kael could feel the potential energy contained within the unfinished structure. This would unlock monumental capabilities: the Barbarian King, a legendary leader whose very war cry would strengthen the entire army; and, most importantly, the Dragons. Creatures of pure destructive power that would dominate the skies. The mere thought made his blood boil with anticipation.
The beauty of his power was that the construction time was fixed for him, but the time dilation in his dimension worked in his favor. If a build took two hours, he only needed to spend those two hours in his realm - which would equate to mere minutes in the real world. He didn't need to wait; he could actively accelerate the process simply by staying there.
Determined to do exactly that, he headed to the village beach, where a small boat awaited him. Rowing a few meters over the calm, crystal-clear waters, he felt the familiar dimensional pull. In an instant, he was no longer in the boat, but at the entrance to his Master Builder's Base.
The landscape was similar to the main village, but more compact and efficient. Here, only one builder resided - the Master Builder himself, a being of imposing stature and sharp intelligence, personally supervising one upgrade at a time. Currently, he was adjusting the gears of a Double Mortar.
"Just you here, old friend?" Kael greeted, walking up to him.
The Master Builder looked up, his eyes glowing with an orange light under a steel helmet. "Boss. One is all I need. Quality over quantity. Unlike the mess out there," he said, nodding towards the main village. "Those four always fumbling about... but they get the job done."
Kael smiled. He had recently raised this base to the Master Builder's Hut Level 4. This had already allowed him to upgrade the Barracks to unlock the Baby Dragon and the Fireball spell. However, for quick and stealthy summons from this base, his preference was still for the Stealth Archers. They fit perfectly with the style of his Battle Arena.
His mind then wandered to the Clock Tower he had built. It further accelerated the perception of time in his entire main village. He fervently hoped its effect extended to all his dimensions.
Leaving the Master Builder to his work, Kael teleported to the majestic Clan Capital Mountain. The sound of activity was deafening here. He walked to the central vault and began carefully distributing Clan Capital Gold, investing in defensive upgrades. He was so close to unlocking the next district.
Finally, he returned to the main village. The construction wasn't complete yet. With a sigh, he sat under the shade of a large tree near the Army Camps. Almost immediately, one of the Archers - her wine-purple hair shining in the light - left her post and sat beside him, followed by a Barbarian sharpening his axe and a Giant who crouched down, making the ground tremble.
"Boss," the Archer greeted with a nod. "The world out there is louder than a Builder's hammer on payday."
Kael laughed. It was strange and wonderful; in the real world, they referred to him as "Engineer" to maintain appearances. But here, at the heart of his power, he was just "Boss."
"You don't know the half of it, Lyra," he replied, calling her by the name he had given her. "Too much concrete. Too many people talking too much."
The Barbarian, Gorok, grunted. "Talking is good. But an axe to the skull speaks louder." He tapped the blade on his shoulder, producing a metallic sound.
The Giant, simply known as Stone, let out a low rumble that sounded like a landslide – his version of a laugh.
They spent time like this, talking about trivialities. Lyra complained about the quality of wood for her arrows, Gorok boasted about taking down a Valkyrie in a training exercise, and Stone asked if the clouds in the realm's sky tasted different from those outside. The camaraderie was simple, genuine, and a balm for Kael's weary soul. They laughed, shared stories, and for a moment, he wasn't a general or an Omega weapon, just their Boss, sitting under a tree.
Then, it happened.
A wave of energy exploded from the Town Hall, now completely rebuilt and imposing. Kael felt as if an electrical circuit had been switched on throughout his entire being. His strength, already considerable, increased noticeably. And in his mind, a new portal of power opened: Arena 7 of Clash Royale.
He concentrated, and knowledge flooded his consciousness. New cards, new potentials. But one stood out, imposing and simple: the Royal Giant.
Without delay, he mentally ordered his four Builders to immediately begin construction of the Dark Elixir Drills and the Dark Elixir Storage. The next phase of his power awaited. The Drills, in particular, were a milestone he had eagerly anticipated. He felt their completion proceed rapidly thanks to the time he spent in his accelerated realm.
At that moment, a gentle pull on his consciousness called him back. They were approaching the X-Mansion.
After disembarking, he immersed himself in the logistics of accommodating the newcomers. When the last person was settled, he felt a familiar presence at his side.
He turned and there was Ororo. Her white eyes seemed to see right through his tired facade.
"You're exhausted," she said softly, her voice a calming breeze after the stormy week.
"It's a good kind of tired," he replied, taking her hand. Her skin was soft against his, a soothing contrast to the harshness of battle. "Better than sitting idle."
"Come on," she insisted, pulling him gently. "You need to eat. And tell me about this week of yours."
They walked towards the cafeteria, their hands intertwined. The mansion was quiet, the nighttime silence beginning to descend. As they walked down a quieter hallway, away from the main hustle and bustle, Kael suddenly stopped. His whole body stiffened, his eyes widened.
"Kael? What is it?" Ororo asked, alarmed by his sudden reaction.
He didn't answer immediately. He was feeling. During the chaos of the village evolution and the rescue, he hadn't fully noticed. Now, in the calm, it was impossible to ignore. The Dark Elixir Drills he had ordered had just finished construction during his time in the village.
A new energy flowed through his veins, merging with the common magenta Elixir. It was denser, heavier, incredibly potent. Dark Elixir. The Drills in his realm were now operational, pumping the first traces of this legendary substance directly into his core. The quantity was minuscule, but the impact was disproportionate.
His strength... hadn't just doubled. It had multiplied dozens of times. The difference between common troops and evolved troops, between heroes and the rest, was Dark Elixir. And now, that same essence was coursing through him.
"Kael?" Ororo called again, her voice full of concern.
He finally looked at her, a slow, amazed smile spreading across his face. "It's... nothing. Just realizing a new... acquisition." He couldn't explain, not now. He squeezed her hand. "Let's go eat. I'm starving."
As they continued walking, a single amusing thought crossed his mind, clear as the sky after Ororo's storm: It must be profoundly annoying for my enemies that my strength is a variable that never stops rising, always beyond any possible estimation.
The power of Dark Elixir pulsed within him, a silent promise that his enemies' days were about to become much, much more difficult.