Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Silence

Silence was this river’s bliss

A river of uninterrupted stillness with an endless flow

It’s water was peaceful, untouched by man or God himself, he cannot touch this river

That silence breaks

A body raises from the deep, spinning like a ballerina. Water droplets scattershot and fly loosely as his arms drop to his and his head tilted, as if he was dozing off from a tiresome day.

His eyes flutter open to only see nothing, to feel no air running between his wounds and hair, only the wetness that covered his deranged body and pooling near his lower legs.

A feminine voice starts filling this emptiness, singing a song that hasn’t not been created.

Let the river carry you back to me

He looks around, finding the source of this voice as she continues. He sees nothing.

Mama will be there in the morning

Small dots of lights begin to glisten and shine. Shades of white and blue and yellow begin to color the colorless sky, and paint a galaxy above him.

Last night, under bright strange stars

We left behind the men that caged you and me

Constellations of dust and stars formed before him. They formed into three people. A mother and two boys, one taller than the other.

The voice was telling a story

Running towards a promise land

He started walking down the river, the water gently clashing and washing up against his legs;a weird sensation creeping in near his left eye.

Mama will be there in the morning

He walked as he saw new constellations of these people appear. She has her children huddled closely to her; hunched as if she was telling them a secret.

Trust nothing in this strange, strange land

A familiarity clung onto him 

He wanted to speak out, ask questions into the void. He opened his mouth to get a word out before a hand touched his shoulder.

Be a mouse and do not use your voice.

The voice changed into a more masculine tone. He looked up to see this person’s face, only to see a lack of any details. No nose, no mouth, not even eyes. A mannequin’s head. Though, they had a weird pigment of burgundy on it’s throat.

River tore us apart, but I’m too far ‘cause

Mama will be there in the morning

A sudden weight was being pressed against his chest. He blinks in response; the feeling of being watched showers over him as he looks over his shoulder.

There is nothing but nothing and black water

Bright light began to radiate from behind. He shields his eyes to see but once the light begins to die down to an acceptable hue, he is standing in front of a mural of some sort.

In one picture frame, it was a family of four it seemed. One of the figures was darkened and was creaked in the head. 

Another frame showed a city. It was surrounded by three land masses as bridges connected them.

The last frame showed the three people from before, only now there was more emphasis on the youngest. There are multiple sizes of the child, it was displaying the child growing up. He walked up to the tallest illustration of the child, to see that he was directly at eye level with it. A chill runs down his spine.

Do you still dream? Do you? Do you sleep still?

Images start manifesting in his head. A graduation from some sort of school, a car on its side, strange pyramid looking spaceships, a man with another man.

He motions as if he was about the throw up. He steps back; chest rising and falling as if he just ran for several miles nonstop. He tries to grip and claw at his chest. He still can’t get a word out, just thinking loudly in his head.

He walks away from the mural and down the river — or up it? The lack of sun or light is making it very difficult. But he thinks he’s going down it.

The voice still sang it’s mysterious story. Something about ‘I filled my pockets full of stones and sink’ That one sentence still echoes through his head. ‘Mama will be there in the morning’ His right hand twitches slightly. Eyes locked onto the water and his brain working overtime, trying to make sense of any of this; that was until he felt a sharp pain in his back and quickly look behind him.

There is nothing but nothing and black water

He drags himself to look forward only to see a gruesome scene before. There were three rooms that were connected. The room on the left, had gray walls and that shade of green associated with the army. On the ground was a man in uniform as blood was sweeping out his body and pooling around him. He couldn’t see the man’s face.

The room on the right was a hospital room. At its center was an operating table, blood splatter on the covers and floor. A machine beeping the flat-line sound. The body on the table also had their face covered. Standard rules for hospitals to follow.

The center room was an alleyway. Two street lights but only one was actually lit. It looked like any other alleyway, trash cans and dirty walls from the buildings. At the dead end of the alley, was a boy.

He was laying straight on the concrete. He was wearing chunky shoes, dark grey jeans and had a lighter grey hoodie on. There was a backpack not too far from him. In his hand was a pill bottle, a few spilled on the ground.

He can feel his body shut down from the display. The whole body started to twitch, like tics running rampant. Hunching over, trying to make himself small and hands wrap around his head, trying to silence…something.

The voice spoke again, now directly talking to him.

The river murdered you and now take it takes me 

He now limps away. He tries to focus on something to regain his footing. The ripples in the water, the dots in the sky. He chooses to focus on the voice. He easily repeats that one haunting phrase.

“Mama will there in the morning”

Mama will be there in the morning

He walks and walks, just listening to the voice, it suddenly sounds familiar.

You may not know me, because I’ve change, Ooh I changed

But mama will not stop looking for her baby

When the river, takes the river gives

And mama will search as long as she loves

The river’s narrow road turns into a lake. He stops and stumbles at the change. He looks up to see if anything new has appeared.

There's nothing but nothing and black water, and a woman at the center of the lake.

Brows furrow and eyes trying to focus on this woman. His heart sinks. He no longer feels the need to breathe. That pressure on his chest is no longer a concern. He spoke, hesitantly, not sure if his mind is playing tricks. He only said one word.

“A Ma?”

The woman heard his whisper, turned, and faintly smiled.

“A Ma!”

His legs have never moved faster before. The voice  still speaks and sings in the  background but is blurred out. Her arms are spread out as he crashes into her. Tears free fall and streak his face. He breathes heavily as eyes scans over her.

She only smiled as she spoke out, leaving him confused.

“Mama will be there in the morning!”

She was beginning to fade from his arms as she returns to being dust and stars, going back into the sky of other stars and bright dots. He tries to clutch her harder, trying to grounder her back to him. It was failing. She was slipping from his hands.

He can only watch as a collection of dust takes her back to the sky. His eyes widened and watered. His arms outstretched to the heavens. Fingers twitch and tremble trying to grasp anything, to bring her back.

The sensation from his left eye amplifies as he clutches it with one arm. There's a pain in his stomach, he slithers the other one around it.

His cries are more sloppy, raw, almost primal. He lets out a yelp, before his hand hovers at this throat. He breathes fast as he muster enough air and screams.

If there was any other soul in this plane to hear his wails and screams, they would think he’s getting murder.

There is no one but nothing and black water and sounds of pain.

As he screams, ripples start skipping in the water, vibrations in the river. His screams go from something human to now something distorted and unnatural. A ring of white flames erupted at the edge of the pond.

He's now fully hunched over, gripping his stomach as if he got stabbed, trying to stop the blood from leaving his body. His screams hit the water and he can see the water being split open, only to see more water beneath the surface line.

What felt like an eternity of endless wailing, he gives out one last scream as his hands go up to this throat, not touching, just hovering. The second the scream dies from his mouth; he drops to his knees, only looking to the sky. He gently sways to the right before re-balancing himself back up.

There is nothing but nothing and black water.

And a boy, who shouldn’t be alive.

One day after the siege on Wakanda

Exhaustion doesn’t even feel like the right word to use. They just feel.

They feel joyless

They feel aimlessly

They feel pain

They feel…just feel

The King has offered personal quarters to the Avengers, a way of showing gratitude and a true friend. Only after a good rest and some time to process the last 48 hours, would they debrief.

Midday, with the Sun perfectly hanging above the city; casting long shadows of golden skyscrapers and Wakandan architecture. Peter came out of his room, courtesy of T’Challa, he wanted to see if he can get permission to walk through one of the many gardens in the palace. He was aimlessly walking around until he spotted Wanda, perched up against an arched window.

He locks up at the sight of her, his breath gets caught in his throat. She’s looking down at the river circling the Citadel, the many gardens that spiral upwards and all over the grand building. Her face is obviously being obscured so Peter can’t see the dry tears that ran river down her cheeks.

Mustering what confidence he can, he slowly makes way to her. Though she already knew Peter was behind her, not from her magic or abilities, she grew to know everyone’s footsteps. She’s been with the Avengers for some time for now. They were her family now were they not? Not through blood but through tears of joy and pain. Missions that went south or were perfectly executed. Bonding through sparring or team dinners and activities.

Now, she’s the last of her bloodline. The only person her knew her truly had a glaive going through his chest and thrown to the side like trash.

“Peter, I know it’s you behind…” she said, calmly but a little vexed at his slow pace. She turns to see Peter’s face of worry dissolve to a more friendly one. His eyes immediately light up at her tone. ‘Ok maybe she’s not mad right now.’

They greet each other with a hug, it felt grounding: they slipped into a calming silence for a moment, overlooking the city below, before Peter confessed what's been on his mind.

"I'm sorry…about Pietro."

To him, it sounded like, "I'm sorry that my friend that I haven't seen in almost three years and who's being controlled by gods, had one of his minions kill your brother."

Wanda breaks sight from the window and turns to see Peter. Poor Peter looks like a kicked puppy in the rain. Eyelids heavy and shoulders slumped, head slightly tilted downward. She can see that this is chewing him up. In her mind, she wants to hunt down Odera through the cosmos and make him feel her pain but tenfold, plunge him into his own hell where he wished he can die. she has every right to be mad and angry at Odera. But then she thinks about Bucky.

She wouldn't dare compare Odera to Bucky. He went through more pain then other person in the Avengers — hell, the whole world, has gone through. Years of physical torment and psychological subjugation under HYDRA, him to be their asset, their perfect killing machine, their weapon.


Bucky had to go through 70 years of this.

70 years of deepfreeze

70 years of calibrations to be 'perfected'

70 years of being a personal plaything

Whatever Wakanda has offered him seems to be helping, but can it be enough? WILL it be enough? can three years of regaining your autonomy counter 70 years of pain and control?

Compared to what? Odera's possession of two years? What did he go though? How many people has he killed? What exactly did these 'Nine" do to him?

Wanda drops back to reality when she sees Peter getting worried from her lack of response, or even breathing. she lets go of her eyebrows she didn't even know they were furrowed. she blinks a few before responding.

"Thank you Peter. King T'Challa has offered to hold a funeral for him here." her voice calmed but with hints of defeated, and masking. Masking her anger perhaps.

"Yeah I-I heard about that, from Mr. Stark. But ho-how are you feeling?"

"I feel…I don't know. I don't know what to feel anymore." her voice cracks in the sliest. she closing her fists in the pockets of her jacket. her poker face shows sadness, but she wants to show her wraith, her rage, what she's actually feeling. But she doesn't. At least not around Peter.

But what they were saying was true, T'Challa has offered to hold a funeral for Pietro, alongside the others that have faced their demise from the siege. She is thankful that the King wants to ease the pain of losing someone by celebrating Pietro's bravery and his heroism as he stood against the enemy. it still doesn't feel right. Their last conversation was right before the mobile transport heading to the border. An inside joke, something in their mother tongue. They laughed like little children in that moment; before boarding things that could lead to their deaths.

Well, boarding things that did lead to their deaths. A death.

Once everyone was gather for dinner, Royal Family and Avengers a-like, they all felt into small talk with each other. Banner, Tony, and Shuri being the nerds they are, were discussing about nanobots. Steve, Bucky and Sam were bonding over some music artist. M'baku was teasing Peter for his size, something about "…little man can punch harder then most J'bari warriors".

Clint and Natasha were in their own little bubble, talking about the siege and the hunt.

"Wait so they literality uno reversed YOUR move, on you?"

A sip of water later, she smacks her lips and said

"Yep."

Vision couldn't help but ease in and give his opinion on how that happen. He believes that with the combination of someone of war, Odera must've inherited the skills and mastery of different bladed weapons. Memory serves right, and it should cause it hasn't been that long, Odera switched from using a staff to hand combat to a knife all swiftly and while fighting four people at the same time. both Clint and Natasha claimed, "they just got lucky." bruising their ego be damned. Natasha's ego at least, Clint was too busy collecting his arrows and seeing Wanda fight a giant robot that looks like a shadow.

Conversations were bright and full of emotions when one of the Dora Milaje on post turned her head out to the window, taking a step out of her station to get a closer look. Ayo, another member of the Dora and most closest to the Royal Family, was about to snap at the woman before she too look out to where the woman was staring at, and too stepped closer. She called out something in Xhosa to T'Challa and Ramonda, which made everyone turn their heads and body to her and the window.

There was a aurora borealis …in Wakanda.

Granted, this pheromonal can happen, but only in South Africa, not east. and certain not in Wakanda.

The aurora wasn't green like it's Northern Lights counterpart, they were white. They were a luminous white, like the Heavens themselves were manifesting right before their eyes. lighting up the Wakandan night sky.

"What in Bast name…" Queen Ramonda muttered to herself. Everyone has slowly made their way to the window, not up to the glass but still close enough.

The incandescence of these lights were spread through out the city, reaching to even the outside of it. The vibrant night life of the city has quiet downed as people were chattering in tones of curiosity and fear from the sudden change in the atmosphere. it was beautiful to witness, but something was off.

It was stretched across the city but there was a part of it more elongated then the rest, like it was pointing to something. this caught the attention of both Steve and Bucky. the thought is scattered as the sudden sound of a door slamming open and the rush of footsteps were echoing through the chamber.

A scientist, still in his attire despite it being long after the work hours, came to a halt before boding Shuri and starting talking , in Xhosa and even then it was too quick for the native speakers to catch up with him.

"What's he saying?" Tony inquired to T'Challa, the scientist still speaking to Shuri and a  guarded Okoye.

T'Challa didn't turn his head to look at him in the eye but translated to Tony and the few Avengers in proximity. "He is saying that there is a sudden but slow raise in 'Light Energy' where we fought against those creatures."

"Light Energy?" Tony inquired once more which led T'Challa to ask, since he didn't know what that meant either. The scientist turned to face his King and briefly explained it, and turn back to Shuri and continue talking to her.

"He said with the rise of this 'Light Energy', the nearby vegetation and environment started growing expeditiously, like if 'Bast herself had blessed it to rid of the Demon's blood.'" Odera himself wasn't even in Wakanda and yet they already call him "Demon", how lovely.

The group of Avengers share a look between each other at the mention of the title 'Demon' before a pair of projection appeared before the dinner table. they were live cameras of the two Dragon Flyers on route to the location.

And lo and behold, the aurora was spread all the way out here too. from the siege.

clouds were covering the lights but they were still there. one Dragon Flyer was surveying the ground while the other position to look to the clouds. the surveying flyer was looming over charred grass and dried blood pools of both human and interdimensional entities. there was chatter between the pilot and Shuri, disusing the readings on the environment. To her shock, the scientist was telling the truth.

Okoye was talking with the other pilot before parts of the aurora starting glowing brighter. Now, both Dragon Flyers were now positioned to see the clouds and the aurora looming behind them.

small rays of white light was piercing the clouds as the flyers hovered in place as more shades of this fluorescent white were either dimming or brightening. The Avengers and Wakandans were studying the screens, trying to see anything for themselves, before they were all taken by surprise when a beam of light separated the clouds and made landfall.

The beam technically wasn't hitting the ground, it was only air hitting the ground, though the screens were telling a different story. Energy levels were now being overloaded, a caution triangle with an exclamation point was now covering the chart. A pilot was relaying what he was personally seeing back to Shuri, T'Challa and now Okoye. the pilot angled the flyer to see what the beam was hitting. all seemed normal till the ground sudden cracked open and out came…tree branches.

Everyone was now taken back, and honestly, straight up fucking confused.

The branches were albino white, with red leaves sprouting out of them. the branches were curling in the air or spreading the ground. the pilot angled towards the ground quickly changed positions as the other pilot was now claiming a body was falling from the sky.

The Wakandans all changed their facial expressions, leaving the Avengers in the dark before Bucky spoke up on what the pilot said. "He said a body was falling from the sky."

On screen, they can see someone spinning out of control, rapidly descending to the ground. a trail of shadow was emitted from their body along the way. On impact, a giant dome of dust and dirt and air was shock-waved from the impact site.

The dome of debris covers the lens of both cameras, obscuring the impact sight. All that is visible is black, brown…

…and a bright blue.

Voices at the dinner table go silent when this shade of blue appeared. The only sounds that are heard is breathing bodies and beating hearts, if you had heightened senses that is.

When the dust settles, the flyers turned on their floodlights and darted them to the person. The stranger raised an arm to block out the light from their face but once they got adjusted and lowered.

Everyone thought they were seeing a ghost. They thought their brains were playing tricks of them, but nope.

There he was

Odera, still in the armor when he was the Weapon.

Chest rising and falling. Eyes, going all over the place. One camera zoomed in on his face. His expression was thought of confusion and panic. His right eye was frantically looking at the flyer. His left eye, well it was hard to describe with the glowing blue scars around his eye socket and iris and pupil being two different shades of blue.

While some saw a friend, a civilian in need of help, or a direct mirror of who they were.

Okoye saw an enemy within Wakanda’s borders. And she was taught and disciplined to protect Wakanda and its people from the enemy.

She barked out something in Xhosa which to everyone shock, prompted Bucky to say at loud, “No, wait!” before the sounds of energy canons filled the room.

Both flyers started gunning down Odera, one even launched two missiles at him. Gasps left some mouths at the sight of this. When they seized fire, Okoye was expecting a lifeless Odera.

What she got instead was two transparent jagged pieces of earth coming out of the ground and angled to protect Odera. The pieces were shimmer with that texture of the spheres. They collapsed down to show Odera shield his face with his arms, making an X with them. He dropped the X and looked back up to the flyer, and back down to his arms. The zoomed camera captures his arms shaking as he looks back up to the hovering flyer, before he falls backwards and starts crawling backwards.

“Follow him but do not engage.” T’Challa said in English. The moment both flyers moved in an inch, Odera panicky stood got back up and started running. Both flyers changed from hover mode to flight to gain ground. Though they couldn’t see, a trail of shadow was coming off his body as he ran.

He was running straight to the barrier of Wakanda and instead of hitting the barrier, he was going through it. He was brute forcing his way through it. One hand covered his face while the other was stretched out in-front of him. The chitin plating his body started disintegrating little by little as he slowed inched his way out.

“How is he doing that?” Queen Ramonda’s question is left answered as everyone is glued to the screens.

Once he got through, he fell onto to his knees and hands before he quickly looked back to see the Dragon Flyers still in pursuit of him. he got back up and started running again.

Floodlights were moving side to side, trying to spot him, the only thing they can see is grass and trees. Once they made out of jungle and into the plains, they finally spot him running towards a mountain. Everyone was so focused on the screens that they didn’t see the aurora dissipate in the air, reverting back into the night sky.

Once a floodlight landed on him, everyone saw a trail of inky-shadow coming off of him. And damn was he moving.

“He’s faster than you, Cap.” Clint called out. Steve’s had his back turned on him which meant Clint could see the nervous swallow he took, but he has to admit, Odera has good form.

He swiftly cover ground as he was nearing the base of the mountain. The moon overhead was in its full phase meaning it was casting a shadow over the land, which included the mountain.

“Is he trying run up the mountain or into it?” Sam curiously asked out in the open. Unlike Queen Ramonda’s question that was unanswered, his question would shortly be answered, by Odera himself.

Merely a few feet away from the shadow of the mountain, Odera raised his arms again to his face, making that X from before. Now bracing for impact, he ran faster, harder, at the last second, he dolphin dive to into shadow. His body went through the ground as a rippling ringed through the whole shadow. Only leaving a few particles of his trailing shadow behind as evidence he was even there.

“Did he just-“

“Yep”

Everything looked like it was in greyscale

The mountain, the grasslands, even the sky. Everything was grey and black. Odera looked back to where those jets were, no where in sight.

It just him in this weird version of Earth, or III.

With no sense of direction, he goes back to where he arrived. An eerie silence throughout the whole journey. he noticed one thing, in this…realm, he moves faster then normal. When he got to his crash site, the ground was streaked with white cracks causing an aurora of white light.

He crouched down to put his hand in one of the cracks. It feels like nothing. It’s not burning hot or freezing cold. It’s just existing.

He senses…a city…a very opulent city with brimming with strange architecture and life. He feels the many different heartbeats and minds of the people of this grand city, but one has caught his attention. it was Peters.

Odera gave out a breathe he didn't realize he was holding in. His gaze falters slightly, in relief.

'Ok…I get to this city… and then…' His mind goes blank at his half-ass attempt of a plan because what in the actual fuck can he expect? He quite literally invade this place and sent an army to attack it. But it wasn't him, it was that thing, the Weapon. Anger spilled over his eyes. He was disgusted with himself, ashamed, uncomfortable that he was on the back-burner of his own head and saw all these unravel before him. The Emissary, the Weapon, it didn't matter.

It was Odera's voice and body that caused all of this.

But it was worth a shot to try.

he gets up from the crouched position and makes haste to the city. the whole world goes to blurs of grey and black. another thing that he noticed that there a heatwave-like filter in the realm, everything looked like it was in zig-zag but not to the point where anything was unrecognizable. Still made it a little dizzy to look at.

two minutes go by and he halts in the heart of this city, standing before what he assumes is the palace of this place. much to his surprise, he is able to climb up the walls and scale them with ease.

'So this is what Pete does…still can't believe he's the Spider-man.' His mind tries to remember what he can, before…the Nine.

it's a little hard when your chronorecpters have been altered to see the past, present, and future by nine different gods from the 4th dimension. Just a little.

He climbs over the edge to see the QuinJet, his mind spiraling at the sight of it.

'Oh my God that's th-the QuinJet! I remember seeing pictures of it during the Battle of New York…'

His mouth drops in amazement from the sight of it. Once again, little by little, he starts remember things before his death. His first death. He recalls liking that once military transport that flies. it had propellers like a helicopter but it was bigger, longer. his mind clicks

'The V-22 Osprey! Damn I can remember that?'

Despite not being in the same material plane as the jet, he glides a hand over its hull and can feel it. the smooth metal under his strange hand. Under its wing, he notices the ground below him.

He extended his hand to the strange stain, and it went through: it looked like his hand was going through water with that same ink affect. Nervous, he pulled his arm back and examined his hand, nothing new.

‘So that’s how I leave this place…’

He looks up to the grand building. He senses more of theses exist stains, there’s on near that familiar presence. He thinks, ‘what else can I do now?’

It’s strange, having your autonomy back, but something is still lingering.

Something Dreadful

He makes his way to the wall and puts his hand on it. And it feels…sticky. He cringes at the feel before an idea forms in his scattered mind. He places his other arm into the wall…

And climbs.

A smile of amazement comes across Odera's face as he scales the wall of palace. he climbs to the elevation that he feel Peter's energy is on. He tested if he can go through walls in this realm and he is successful and enters a grand hallway. Despite the gloomy affect all over this place, he can tell this hall is vibrant. The pictures that are mounted throughout it, the marbling on the wall and ceiling beautifully scattered, and the displays of artifacts and art pieces that are spread evenly.

A stain is reality is on the opposite wall is appearing; Odera tries to focus and locate where Peter could be on this level. He feels many others near Peter, two of them are very powerful in the aspect of a powerful mind.

''C'mon Odi, man up. We gotta try.' he hypes himself for a few seconds and makes his way to the stain. Mere inches away, he decides to first poke his head out to make sure the room is clear and unoccupied. He holds his breath and closed his eyes hard, not that he needs to, but it does help.

He opens them to see that he was right about the hall being vibrant. a few seconds of admiring the details of the hall, he darts his head left and right. the coast is clear. It's now or never.

He pushes the rest of his body into the material world and comes out in a hunched postilion, as if he catching his breath after a long run. He straighten himself and looks behind him to see where he came out of. 'So I guess shadows are it then.' he echoes the new information to himself.

'Time to find Petey…'

He wonders in the hall and turns the corner and stumbles right into two guards. the trio stumbles back and they all share a look of confusion and shock (mainly from the guards) before one shouts and the other goes on the offensive. A spear…or a club? A spear-club, fuck it.

A spear-club is swung on Odera all he does is duck and invade. He can see that the other guard touches something on his wrist before an alarm is sounded.

'Damn, even the alarms SOUND beautiful'

With the other guard now joining in, it's too overwhelming for him. A clean strike to his face and his cheek gets sliced, not deep but damn will it sting in a few. Causing him to fall to ground, Odera tries to crawl back and raise his hands in surrender. he tries to speak but nothing comes out, not a single sound. His eyes widen in anger and confusion at this.

'Damnit, why can't I speak?' It's almost painfully for him to try and sound out a word. The guards are unphased by this and advance on him, now with their weapons in a guarded hold, like trying to push something back in bay. They something in a language he doesn't understand.

He hears more footsteps, from both ends of the hall. 'Fuck, I immediately regard this.'

He needs to do something and quick. He knows Peter wouldn't hurt him, can't say the same about these guys and whoever the hell is running down the hall. He looks around trying to come up with a plan and sees nothing, not even a shadow close by. then he remember something, a move, that the other thing did back in the cave.

'Shit, if he can do it, why can't I?' With whatever courage he has left, he performs a starfish kip up and sends off those same ribbons of energy into the surrounding area, including the guards.

He quickly jogs to the other end of the hall only to halt at the sound of much more closer footsteps. He goes to the other hall and the same applies here.

He tries to back to the shadow he come from before the other end of the hall has now become with people. it's Peter…and the Avengers. He stops in his tracks to study them all. He can see Peter, Captain America, Tony Stark, a woman with red almost short curly hair and a man next to her. His eyes catches the sight of two bald-headed woman in red and brown, with spears pointed towards him.

Like survival instincts, he steps back at the sight of the women. Then, a man in very luxurious clothing of black, purple, and hints of gold, gesture them to lay down their spears. they hesitate, but do as he says.

"Odera, it's all right, you're OK." Captain America said, trying to ease Odera. he opens his mouth, an attempt to talk, but fails. His throat feels like knifes lodged in it, sharpened and jagged. He throws his head down in pain, trying to breathe out the pain.

"Can you not speak, Odera?" The Captain asked and in returned gets a shaky head. Not to say "No, I can't." but in "No, something isn't letting me." But they don't know that.

He brings his head back up to the Captain and his eyes land on the man behind him. His hair reaching to his collarbone, eyes the same shade of blue as Captain America, and a left metal arm. Odera's eyes travel from the man's arm, to his upper body, then to the eyes of this mysterious man.

'Why are you so fuckin' familiar…'

A surge of pain erupts from his left which causes him to yelp in pain. Odera couldn't see it, but his blue scars that plague his eye and face amplified in color and their glow intensified at the rhythm of his yelp. He drops his head down furthered then before and goes into a hunched stated, hands covering his face. He can hear someone call out his name; he doesn't — can't answer them. this sudden feeling of pain only lasted a few more seconds before the Avengers and Wakandans see Odera's body go eerily still. his hand slowly departs from his face before his shoots it back up to instantly lock eyes with one person.

Wanda

No one can sense what Odera can feel, only him.

And he feels something violent, something with murderous intend.

And it's coming from Wanda.

Her face is that of worry and concerned. Odera's is that of fear, being afraid. Wanda's eyes scan his face, trying to understand why she's looking at him, he thinks she trying to find a area to lodge a weapon in him. his breathing uncanny becomes uneven, almost hyperventilating. The Captain takes one step forward, at fatal error.

Odera quickly darts his eyes at what the Captain did and he raises his arms in defense, as if he trying to block out income debris. He's scared, not of Captain America, but of Wanda. His eyes go all over the place, trying to find a shadow to crawl and disappear.

Then he looks at the window.

Then back to the Captain. he slowly shakes his head he mouth "don't" not as a command, but as a plea. He tries to calm his breathing, shoulders raised and eyes go steady at the Captain's silent word.

and makes a break for it.

A trail of shadow comes off of Odera, only now it's coming out of his whole body. The Captain tries to intercept but it's like what Clint said earlier.

"He faster then you, Cap"

Odera braces for impact as his body goes throw the glass, not knowing that the Captain's hand was inches away from clutching him. Unlike before, his body isn't spinning out of control or limp-less. He's body is posed like he parachuting. the sudden change in the wall texture makes him look at a reflection of himself, where he finally sees his left eye. Blue, scarred, Nine-Touched.

He looks back down to see the darken silhouette of the QuinJet's shadow, and smiles.

Chapter Text

Nightfall was already approaching as the Quinjet descended from the clouds and aligns with the runway. Each of the Avengers were feeling the jet lag hitting them slowly but surely. A few recruits of S.H.I.E.L.D were waiting outside by the hanger, either ready to work on the QuinJet or to help them with any baggage or things that needed to be transported.

One of the perks of the Compound being a military training grounds along side other things. The Avengers don't share a living space with the Compound workers or trainees, they have their own building within the campus, but they still talk to them. Not like a big family, more like, well, a campus.

The automatic doors of the hanger come to life as lights and machines slowly die down. The hanger was now an eerily, but normal silence. The now unlit hanger was a perfect quietness. It was also, the perfect exit.

A blackened figure crawls out of the Quinjet's hull and stands a few feet before it, crouching on their toes.

He were crouched like assassin surveying their mission; on their tippy-toes with and hand  on the ground to balance themselves and the other on their knee. Head quickly looks at all directions before he looks southwest. A feeling, a sense, a mind catches his attention.

Correction

Multiple minds catch his attention.

The Avengers

‘I hope to God this works…’

Now in the motion that resembles one crawling through a manhole, Odera sinks to the ground headfirst and makes his way to where the Avengers are housed.

Hoping for…something

No debriefs

No more mission reports

No more threats for now

A little bit of a calm before the next storm arrives on shore. Everyone was now heading to their rooms, all except the lone Maximoff.

Wanda lingers at Pietro’s door. It was slightly left open, only a spec of his room is visible through the opening. She wants to open the door and to see him on his bed, mindless scrolling on his phone. Half a smirk on his face because of a video on TikTok or from the sight of his sister, or Peter.

But that doesn’t happen.

She opens the door to see an unlit room. His bed still has his imprint of his body from the morning they left. A hand is glued to the doorframe has she walks in; trying to balance herself from collapsing. It’s a strange feeling, knowing that this room can’t change anymore. Theoretically, it can change, but why would you change the room of a dead person? You’ll be wiping down the last things they’ve touched and felt.

A small ring of magic emits from her feet as the room slowly glows in a scarlet hue. Outlines of clothes, chairs, trinkets and gadgets come into view as the ring pass by them and make a complete circle of the room. She tries to silence her mind and focus. She trying to find his spirit, to see if he is in the Space Between or where ever his soul has been led to.

Heaven or Hell, there is no difference.

He isn’t here.

Wanda sways her head slightly. A hand held out to see if she can feel for him. Instead, she feels something…

Watching her.

Her closed eyes twitch in confusion at this feeling. She feels…sorrow, shame, hatred. These feeling aren’t coming from her, granted, she is feeling some of these towards her brother’s killer. But these emotions feel more powerful, more enforced.

She swears she hears whispers, there’s at least a dozen voices but she could feel the presence of thousands.

Abruptly, the feeling of rage, unmeasurable rage creeps into her mind. Her mouth slowly parts as this emotion comes in. Half her body goes still as a new feeling starting making its way to her.

An indomitable will, making itself known to her. The whispers now turn into roars of anger. She gets the urge of violence, to hurt people, it doesn’t matter who, she just needs to make someone bleed. She wants to hurt someone, hell, ANYONE who is near her.

It gnaws at her to hurt something. To enact violence to satisfy. The rush of bleeding from a wound, the sweet sounds of pain and hurt, the dopamine of it all. It…

It’s…

IT IS THE WAILING OF THE WEAK THAT FUELS IT.

IT IS THE GIFT OF BEARING TRIBUTES IN A GRAND SCALE THAT WILL MAKE HER FEEL ALIVE.

IT IS-

“Enough!”

The hue of red that filled the empty room vanishes as Wanda snaps out of the trance of…that.

She looks around to see if anything is new. There is not. She exists the room, hand over her chest. It feels like a rising anxiety attack; breathing a little uneven with a hint of overthinking. She leans against the wall and attempts to steadily her breathing. Two minutes that felt like an eternity, Wanda comes back to reality. Everything felt normal till her mind told her to look at the ceiling vent now.

She jolts her head up to the vent grate and swears she sees a face staring back at her. It felt like a man. His facial expression was unreadable but if she had to guess, she would say it was a blank face, one of a dead person with their eyes wide open. She swears she saw his eyes. The right eye has nothing but a white dot in it but the left was pure black, an empty hole of void.

She looks back down hastily before looking back up at the vent. She doesn’t see him anymore. A few strands of red energy light up the vent to see it empty.

Wanda goes to her room, it’s been a while since she was afraid of the dark.  Tonight would be one of those nights.

Steve was already in his room about to begin with his nightly ritual of sketching for one hour before bed. To him, it helps clear his mind from the events of the day. A nice, quiet transition to ease himself and unwind. He wouldn’t just sketch, he would write down whatever thoughts were plaguing his mind or an idea he doesn’t want to lose. It ain’t fully journaling but it does help.

At least one good thing came out of today. T’Challa and Shuri think that Bucky is ready to be back out into the world. They are sure that they got rid of the Winter Soldier Program however,  they agreed they’re giving it another month before he can leave Wakanda.

It’s been a long road of recovery. But it’s finally paying off. He’ll be a free man.

Tonight, Steve would try something new with his hour of downtime. He decided to give drawing in 1-point perspective a try. Catching up almost 70 years worth of new technology, methods of life, and much more, Steve was beyond relief that art of drawing, well art, hasn’t changed too much.

While on his journey on figuring out the Internet and social media, when he came across YouTube, it was like a treasure trove. Naturally he wanted to learn on how drawing and sketching has changed over the decades. A few artists have paved the way of creating art and different styles of art but Steve wasn't looking to become the next Picasso or some shit, he just wants to learn how to draw better.

He pulls out his desk chair and opens his sketchbook to a fresh page. he sets up the basic steps on drawing in 1-point perceptive, a straight horizontal line in the middle and a single dot in the middle of the line, then placing random shapes on the page and connecting the corners back to the dot in the middle. He was thinking of drawing a couple of stores bunched up together, like a plaza.

15 minutes of peaceful doodling and detailing, He hears something dropping in the bathroom. the sudden noise makes him flinch and mess up his detailing on a wall on the paper. he frowns at the little mistake but gets over it quickly to check in the bathroom.

He opens the door and flicks the lights on.  Everything was as is as he left it. Shower curtain closed, towels on the metal bars,  a bottle of mouthwash laying in the middle of the floor-

A look of confusion comes across the Captain's face. He thinks back to when he was in the bathroom from earlier. he remembers putting the mouthwash back in the cabinet below the sink, yet the cabinet door was closed. He goes to pick up the bottle and quickly examines it. 

When he goes back to his full height, he glances at the mirror, expecting nothing. His eyes land on his reflection, the shower curtain, the few shelves in the bathroom. He blinks once.

He opens his eyes  to only land back onto the mirror, he sees his reflection, the shower curtain, the few shelves in the bathroom, and the shadowy appearance of a floating  body looking at the back of his head. The body was hunching over, both arms twitching in random intervals, and an pure white eye, cracks of white all over the eye.

A silent gasp leaves his mouth as he turns around, using the bottle of mouthwash as a makeshift club. His eyes land on the wall and shelves. He drops his shoulders and the bottle. He furrows his brows trying to make sense on what he just saw. he looks back to the mirror to see that creepy silhouette gone, it was just him and the bathroom. still on guard, he returns the mouthwash back to it's original place and makes way to the door. Before truing the lights back off, he takes a another good look of the bathroom just to make sure of anything and everything.

Lights off and door closed, the Captain's bathroom goes back to it's lack of color and life as before. only this type, there's a white light in the shape of an eye being reflected from the mirror. the eye slowly turns to the door, before slowly dimming until it vanishes completely off this material plane, and back to it's original plane of existence.

Steve ditches his sketchbook and decides to walk off his ghostly encounter. He has never broken his night routine before. This would be the first time.

Sam, Clint and Natasha crowd the couch of the living room, that last few conversations before retreating back to their rooms for the night.

"…has Peter even mentioned an 'Odera' to us before?" Natasha had asked.

"No, not really. Just Ned and that one girl. What's her name? C-CJ or some-"

"MJ, Barton." Sam corrected him.

"Right…right. You think he likes her?" Clint asking, his eyes light up when he looks to the others for their answer. Sam grunts like a disappointed person.

"Dude, c'mon were not in high school." Sam huffed out. Clint just tilted his head and had that cocky smirk on his face.  Sam sighed and gave his real answer, "Yes, hundred percent."

"BOOM! I was right. What about you, Nat?"

"Nat?"

Both men turn to see Natasha become suddenly lost in thought. hands in a praying position, under her chin as her elbows rest on her knees. Her face was blank, machine like, emotionless.

Like her days in the Red Room.

Sam and Clint look at each other, unsure on what to do next. She rarely does this, even rarely in front of other people. Only Clint has seen her as this. most of time she was remembering something during her time in the Red Room, a mission, training, conditioning.

"Nat!" Clint barked out  softly which worked out. Her eyes blink a few time rapidly before she takes a deep breath and look at a worried Clint and a concerned Sam.

“You good?” Sam asked. She can see that whatever was wrong with her just now had Sam concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine I was just…thinking.”

“About?” It was now Clint asking.

“Just some…stuff.” She masked her actual answer.

She was thinking back to the time of her second mission after her graduation from the Red Room. Her assignment, some European political figure was making shady moves on finding the Red Room. She was tasked to infiltrate and retrieve whatever leads he has or was planning onto make, and to kill if necessary.

She remembers the sounds of the guards pained grunts and final breaths. The smell of gunpowder filling the rooms as shoots ranged. The precision of her strikes and blows.

She remembers it all. All too well. She was not just a Widow, but a weapon.

And she was a deadly weapon.

She was about to answer the Archer before footsteps echoed from a hall. The Avengers turned to see their Captain, looking a little unease.  His eyes were glued to the ground before they climbed up to the sight of the couch and three heads picking out.

“Didn’t know anyone else was still up.”

Steve said, throwing in a small chuckle, trying to ease the atmosphere.

“Yeah, we were just, talking about Peter’s friend.” Sam said cautiously.

Steve nods in acknowledgement. Steve knew they couldn't see his shifted demeanor, but with the tone Sam used. Maybe it was slipping up. All because of a ghost. He didn't believe in the paranormal or entities from beyond the grave, but with his encounter from the bathroom and the image of that figure burned into his mind. 

Maybe

Just maybe

He'll starting believing in them.

Realizing he taking a little too long to respond, Steve just said he's taking a walk around the grounds to clear his mind. Hesitantly, Nat, Clint and Sam just nod. Once they heard his footsteps grow quieter an quieter, with the sound of a distance door closing, did they start talking.

"Ok, that was weird, right?" Clint said first

"Definitely. Cap's all stoic and manly, but he looked out of it, distracted. And I've never seen Steve distracted, not since…" Natasha added on before trailing off, back to a certain time in 2014.

"…since the bridge?" Sam finished her sentence. When Steve volleyed the Winter Soldier off of him and his mask came off, he looked like a deer in headlights. Seeing his best friend, drained of all the traits that made him back during their time, the confusion when he said "Who the hell is Bucky?" hit Steve harder then a shot from a tank. He was distracted.

And Captain America doesn't get distracted, he can't afford them.

The trio of Avengers return back to their conversations about Odera, their schedule for next month, and life in general. They were unaware of a moving shadow behind them, in the shape of a human, moving towards them. The shadow human stalks towards the shaded part of the couch before it catches sight of a vent on the wall. It moves ghostly towards the vent and sweeps into, before shadow turns into flesh, bone, and a tiny bit of obsidian.

When it was all quiet throughout the Compound, and everyone is back in their own quarters doing God knows what.

Clint decides to go in the vents, like old times. It surly wasn't like the Tower vents where he can go down literal floors and levels with ease, without a few bruises. It's better then nothing.

He unscrews the vent grate in his room and crawls through.

"Man, just like old times." the Archer mutter to himself, sounding like an excited child or someone going through a wave of nostalgia. When he first arrived at the Compound, on the first night, he went through entire vent layout because why wouldn't he? He knows which corner goes where and what spots are big enough for him to literally sleep in sometimes. By the fourth night of him living there, he has every vent tunnel, entrance, and  favorite spots to disappear from whenever he need a retreat or some peace and quiet.

Tonight, he wanted to go be above the indoor pool of the gym that's apart of their building.  It was always cooler then the other areas. The sweet sting of the chlorine entering his nose, the water reflecting and bouncing off every surface, even up into the small openings of the vent grate would the refection paint the inside of the vent.

He was at this point salivating about the pool and it's calmness, so much so that when he turned the last corner that lead to the pool he ran into a wall

Correction, he ran into a body.

Upon impact, Clint crawled back a few while muttering "the hell?". His vision was obscured when he turned the corner and made contact, so he couldn't see the body shuffling in annoyance to turn around and see him. When his vision cleared up, Clint was face to face with a person with a brown eye and a wicked glowy blue eye-

ooooohhhhhhhhh

Both Clint and Odera's faces drop in shock, confusing, and surprise. it was hard to see his right eye but man was that left eye visible as hell.  He saw as Odera's eye went all over Clint's face in a "What The Fuck?" motion.

"Ummm, hi." Clint said, trying to clear up the room, or vent in this case. he forced a smile on himself, trying to pretend this was a normal thing to run up on.

Before he could another word out, Odera starting moving backwards trying to create distance between him and Clint.

"Hey! No wait! Its…" Odera turned into a small cloud of air and smoke as he felt he was able to jump into the other reality, leaving Clint alone in the vent.

"…O…K." The stretched out the final word he wanted to give out, clearly to Odera, this wasn't okay. Clint moved up till he was able to see down the vent grate and into the indoor pool. He tried to focus onto his surroundings trying to listen for any movement in the vents, hoping to hear Odera.

He couldn't hear nothing, but hey, A for effort.

Now he was conflicted

'Should I tell the team now or wait till morning?' He began to fight over the choices before ultimately deciding on

"Naaaaaa it can wait till tomorrow."

Clint curled up in the vents and rest to the cool air from the pool and reflected water hitting the vent, before going back to his room for the night. Unaware that a half-body Odera was coming from the side of the vent wall behind him, at the corner where they first "met". Odera pounders the reality that the Avengers are going to know he's alive and in their home, unannounced, before he retreats back into the shadows and finds somewhere else to crawl out of and hopefully get some sleep.

Chapter Text

It was dusk when the roar of marching footsteps and a drill sergeant shouting out a chant started bringing life back to the Compound that morning, and not far ahead, Captain Rogers and Sam were doing their morning laps around the track.

inside the residential building for the Avengers, Peter was already getting ready for the day as today would be the start of the fall semester for his first year at college; which unfortunately meant he had to start getting up earlier then he's used since he now lives upstate. The drive would be fairly along, almost a 45 minute one, but Happy is (no pun intended) is happy to take Peter to his classes, but thank God he only has in-person classes Monday through Wednesday and the rest are online.

By the time Happy and Peter are on the road, Sam and Steve, mainly Steve, have finished their laps and head back to their building, only to be greeted by a grumpy-as-hell Clint and a half-awake Natasha and Wanda near the kitchen island.

"You're up early." teased Steve Clint.

Clint looked up eyes closed before he smacked his lips dramatic. "Yep, didn't wanna miss Spider-Boy first day of college!" he tried to add some excitement to his voice at that lost part but his voice failed him by cracking a little, which earned a laugh from Natasha and a small smile from Wanda.

They all sipped their tea, coffee and water in a comforting silence before their Captain spoke up once again, asking about today's agenda.

"Nothing out of the ordinary, data checking, reading the news, kicking some of the newbies asses in training. you know, the boring stuff." Natasha informed him. He had did was nod and flick his eyebrows.

“How exciting.” Wanda joked, which made Clint slightly annoyed, in a good way.

They slipped back to that quietness before Sam makes himself known by his footsteps and his heavy breathing from his run. Sam and Clint tease each other before Sam makes remark about how he should go back into the vents like the weirdo he is.

Then

“Oh by the way I saw Peter’s friend in the vents last night.”

Just casually. Casually telling them they he saw Peter’s friend who jumped out a window from a high building back in Wakanda in the vents last night.

Sam chokes on his orange juice.

Steve lower the glass of water he was about to drink from, dumbfounded.

Natasha looks at him as if he just said something very conversational.

Wanda just freezes.

Clint just says “What?”

“You saw Odera? In the vents?” Natasha restates what he just said, only saying the most important parts from his sentence.

“Yeah?”

“Wait a minute, why were you in the vents?” Sam questioned

“Doesn’t matter, but yeah I saw him in them.” Clint responded

“What was he doing?” Now Steve curious on this news.

“I dunno, I think he was asleep before I ran into him, or bumped into?” Clint, second guessing on the correct terminology to use.

Each member would take the next few seconds to digest this. Sam’s eyes immediately darted to the nearest vent grate in the room, now paranoid. Well this is certainly add something new to their schedule today. Steve’s mind begins to speculate on how Odera got from Wakanda all the way out here. He lands on what he saw back in Wakanda, from those live cameras from the Dragon Flyers. Odera jumped into the shadow of the mountain, so maybe he found a shadow of the Quinjet and in a sense, was in the Quinjet when they took off the next day. Then it clicks

Odera jumped out the window and fell into a shadow of the QuinJet.

“So what now, do we go full out Ghost Busters and try to find him, or do we just let him life in the vents?” Sam, who was very genuine with his question.

“He must be scared.” Wanda gently let out. Steve and Natasha turned to see her, face a lighter shade and eyes glued to the marbling of the kitchen island.

What makes you say that?” Natasha wonder, which made Sam and Clint turn to Wanda.

“Think about it…” the four Avengers share a quick look among each other before she continued. “Odera barely got set free from beings who controlled fate. His fate. And when he came falling from the sky. He wasn’t how he was before, he was scared, lost, and confused. Even at the palace, he tried to speak but couldn’t, like he was scared to talk.”

They all recount that night. The camera footage from the Flyers and in person. How his hands went up to his throat when he opened his mouth to speak. The fear in his eyes when they surrounded him in the hall. The way he was hunching and contouring his stance, trying to be small.

“The way he looked at us. He was asking for help, but was too afraid.”

“Afraid of us?” Steve said

“Or himself…” Natasha muttered.

The kitchen fell into a still silence, unsure on how to move on from this conversation or topic.

“We have to tell Peter.” They all look to Steve, now determined on helping Odera. “If he is scared of us, then we need someone who’s close to him, and coax him out of hiding.”

“To be honest, maybe that’s why he’s here in the first place, because of Peter, all while trying to avoid any of us.” Natasha added to the Captain’s plan. “If anyone knows Odera, it’s him.”

They all nod in agreement. it’s settle then.

Time for a little reunion.

Not even five minutes after entering the building, Peter was dragged by Sam to the kitchen where Steve, Natasha, Clint and Wanda were idling standing.

“Did something happen?” Peter worriedly asked Sam.

“No—yes? Just, just wait.” Sam offered a friendly smile, Peter smiled back awkwardly.

Once Peter was with the group, they entered conversation about his first day of classes and how his day went in general before Natasha switched tones to one almost of a mother would use to ease bad news to her child.

“Peter…Odera is here, in the Compound.”

No sugar coding, no easing into it. Just the raw truth.

His eyes widened and jaw dropped. His mind starts moving then he can proceed. He looked to the other Avengers, seeing if she was messing with him. They all shared that look, meaning it was the truth, before returning back to Nat.

“Wh-where is he? Is he fine? Is he hu-hurt or-“

“That’s the thing, we don’t know.” She interrupted his incoming wave of questions none of them had solid answers. “Clint saw him in the vents last night.”

“I mean, he looked fine. I tried to talk to him but he got scared and turned into a ball of smoke.” Peter shift his gaze to the right to meet Clint’s eyes. “Looked like he was sleeping.”

“But where is he?” Peter asked one more time, no difference in his tone but they knew he was getting concerned.

“That’s the thing, we just don’t know. We had Friday check cameras, audio, everything. We don’t know where he is-“

“There may be a new development to that, Agent Romanoff.” Friday’s voice interrupted Nat’s speaking.

“Friday?” Steve inquired, curious at what the AI meant.

“I detected, movement, in the gymnasium.” A holo screen is being project from the middle of the kitchen island. The Avengers turned to the island to see a video of the their building’s gym. Nothing out of the ordinary till a body suddenly materialized from a shadow on the ground. Smoke covered their body for a few seconds before it faded into the air, leaving a staggered Odera in its place. He looked around but stopped when he looked to the mirror wall.

He slowly approached it, hands spread out like he was balancing on rope.

His eyes keep readjusting to his face. Unsure to believe he’s seeing what he’s actually seeing.

But now up to the wall, he raises a hand to his the left side of his head, and feels. He covers it and uncovers. His fingers slither above his brow, to the root-like scars that run up to his hairline and slightly into his greasy hair, not retaining any of its curl.

“Okay, this the perfect time to make contact. Peter, try and…Peter?” Sam’s change in voice made everyone take their eyes off the screen to see Peter no where in sight.

‘This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.’

Odera was wishing this was some wicked dream, a nightmare even.

He looked back to his brown eye. The color that should be in both his eyes. Not this, cosmic, Nine-Touched, fucking blue eye.

He can’t even tell if there’s a pupil or an iris. It’s just a ball of blues. His eye ball was still white it just the rest…

‘How fucking dare them!’

He pulls the eyelid upwards. There’s the tiny bits of blood strains bordering the eyeball. But the blue is just so…alien.

He was too fixated on his eye that he didn’t hear the doors of the room open. It was like he was in a trance. The sight of his mutilated eye drowned out of other senses. The eye was overbearing enough. It was just him and this reminder of his failure.

His shame

His disgrace

His hatre-

“Odi…”

He started to hear, smell and feel again. He blinked at least four times before his gaze falls on the person through the reflection. His brows furrow in confusion and relief before turning.

It was Peter.

They both just stood there. Finally seeing each other’s body.

Back in high school, Odera was a few inches shorter than Peter but now, Peter has to angle his head up to where it’s noticeable. He wasn’t exactly over six foot but damn was he reaching it.

They both had similar hair with that slight curl at the ends, but Odera’s hair is-was a little more defined. Let’s just say Peter didn’t need a bonnet to protect his curls. Okay? Okay.

“Hi.” Peter uttered. It almost sounded like a prayer and a relief.

Odera was about to reply to his friend but it gets caught in his throat. Like burning metal was shoved down it and would solidify. Yet it would just feel like dry throat. A very, very dry throat. Not from the lack of water though that may be it really.

Peter caught it almost immediately. The sudden pain he displayed when he wanted to talk back. The bob from his adam’s apple, the hand hovering over it, how his eyes widened to express his discomfort when his voice couldn’t.

“Are you ok? Are you hurt?” Peter started getting worried from sight of Odera in pain. All he does his shake his head. “Can you not speak?”

Odera shakes his head again, looking defeated and sad. Peter licks his lips as he thinks about what to say. He reassures his friend that he’s okay, he’s with the Avengers, and how they won’t hurt him. All Odera can do his speak with his eyes and head. He mentions that there are some of them in the other room. He starts mentioning said others, before saying a certain enchanced’s name.

Odera started backing up from Peter at the mention of Wanda’s name, as if he was trying to avoid something. Peter immediately stopped speaking and started repeating a few words. Once Odera calmed down, that’s when Peter asked,

“Are you scared of Wanda?”

Odera nods

“Why?”

‘Cause she wants to kill me, Peter! I killed her brother! That’s a pretty damn good reason!’

Odera started to speak once again, a lodge in his throat appears and he winces through his teeth. Odera hard blinks the pain away before looking back at Peter. Making direct eye contact with him. He feels a sensation, a connection. His eyebrows shift in confusion at this feeling before realizing what this feel was, he used it during his time as Emissary and Weapon, to talk.

“Wanda….kill….me….” The broken sentence echos in Peter’s mind.

"Holy shit you can speak telepathically?! Awesome!"

Out of ANYTHING else to say, he says “awesome!”? Then again it’s Peter so…

Odera can’t help but look at Peter confused with the tiniest hint of amusement. Even a small smile forms. Peter laughs at what he said before he goes back to asking questions.

“How did you do that?”

“Days…Emissary…commune with Nine….”

Despite being broke English and only some of what’s he is saying to Peter is getting relayed, Peter understands what Odera is saying. God forbid he didn’t.

“Th-the ‘Nine’ did this to you?”

Shamefully, Odera nodded, masking the real reason why all of this happened in the first place.

“Are they still controlling you?”

And for once, Odera didn’t shake his head or nod. Just unsure words

“Yes…no…do not know…”

“Missed…you…nerd…”

Odera’s face changed to the same relief as Peter. Offers can still feel something dark and cosmic clinging to the edges of his mind. Something not as old as the Nine, but still terrifying.

But this? This feels human.

“I missed you too buddy.” Tears threaten to spill, Peter only allowed one to spill before going up to his friend and hug him strong.

This stunned Odera, but he missed this. He hesitates to hug him back but remembers he’s in control again, his own body, his own autonomy, his own will.

So he hugs Peter back. And smiles.

The Avengers watched their interaction back in the kitchen island; to only watch as Odera finally take a good look at himself in nearly three years, Peter barging in to the gym and slowly walk up to him, and for them to…talk?

Talk, as in only Peter was speaking, and Odera just nodding and shaking his head.

"Is he talking through his mind or something?" Sam asked to the group.

"I wouldn't be shocked after all we've seen." Natasha answered back, eyes still on the holo.

The Avengers watched as Peter goes in for the hug, and Odera doing the same a few seconds after. Peter's head resting below his collarbone, Odera gripping his shirt like it's his anchor in a storm sea. He was still wearing that chitin-like armor, only less glowy and more human looking.

"The team is in the kitchen, do you want to meet them." Peter said through the camera. Odera looked him in the eye, where Steve notices something about the eye. It would pulsate lightly and soon after, Peter would talk. "Wanda won't kill you, she might be mad, but she won't hurt you. You already met her, remember? The dream, you talking to her which lead us to Asgard, your bracelet."

Odera eyes shot up at the mention of the bracelet, then switching to confusion.

"Not me…III…spoke…my voice…"

"Who's III?"

"Nine…apart…Earth…they…helped…me…freedom"

"Ohhhhh so, III is a good member of the Nine then?" Odera shook is head in agreement. All the while the Avengers in the kitchen are still processing that Odera said Wanda wants to kill him. Each slowly turned their direction to Wanda, who started to feel overwhelmed by it, but stood tall none the less.

"Is it true?" Steve asked her, his eyes not quite meeting with hers yet. She swallows hard and licks her lips before saying yes, a bit of her accent slipped past. Steve nodded, already trying to come up with a plan.

"Guys, there on the move." Clint informed the team as Peter and Odera started walking to the doors, assuming that there on their way to the kitchen.

"I'll be in my room." Wanda spoke out as she hastily made it to the hall that lead to their rooms before anyone could try to stop her or reason with her. They could tell her was nervous, uneasy that they know she wants to kill Peter's friend.

Can you blame her though?

Clint tried to go after her but saw the signs, and let go. Let her go.

"So what exactly is the plan?" Sam asked both Nat and Steve.

"What we do best…help people." Nat stood on her answer. She knew better then let someone's past define their whole character.

"It'll be like Bucky all over again…What was it that you said Sam, before we got onto those heli-carriers?" Steve remembering their conversation back in 2014. Sam looked confused, trying to decipher what the Captain was trying to get at.

"He's not the kind you save…he's the kind you stop." Now Sam remembers. on the bridge, before Steve said to suit up and take down HYDRA for good, including SHIELD. "Does that apply to Peter's friend here?"

"He's already saved, he just needs help." Sam countered Steve's question.

"What's this about Peter's friend?" Bruce, along side Vision, came out the lab for the first time since they being back have been out the loop this entire time.

"Peter's friend is here in the Compound and we're about to meet him." Natasha quickly spat out, bringing them up to date somewhat.

"And when are we going to meet him?" Vision inquired.

"Give or take 15 seconds." she said. Vision and Dr. Banner share a look before the sounds of footstep starting growing nearer.

Clint motioned to close the holo screen of the gym. The Avengers get together and started pretending they were busy in the kitchen, making conversation, making something to eat, literally anything to try and fool Odera that they totally weren't just watching him from the cameras.

Now with the footsteps at their loudest, each member mentally prepare themselves to try and talk with him, or at least communicate with him.

The footsteps came to a sudden halt and it was Steve who would turn his head, followed by Natasha.

There he was, Odera, with Peter right at his side.

"Odera, these are the Avengers, the good guys." Peter's kept his upbeat tone, trying to ease the awkwardness between the Avengers and his friend. Now everyone's eyes were on Odera, where they all get to see him fully.

he was a bit taller then Peter, they both had similar build but Odera looked like he had more muscle on him, then Peter's leanness. They both had curly hair but Odera's seemed like it would be more produced and defined, unclear due to it being matted after two years of growing and forced neglect. his skin tone was between fair and olive, but seemed like it could go naturally more tan in the hotter season, unlike Peter. he had a typical brown eyes, or just eye.

The other eye, now in the light, seemed different. it was still visible that it was different shades of blue within the eyeball itself. his sclera was still white but it was just the pupil and iris that were emphasized, the pupil being a Tesseract blue and the iris being a deep ocean blue, maybe even indigo. The cracks of bright blue coming from his eye socket and traversing around the left side of his face, with the longest crack slightly passing his hairline and into his hair.

He stares nervously at the group of Avengers, darting his between each one before any one of them spoke up. Steve slowly approached the young men and offered a handshake to Odera.

“It’s great to meet you, Odera. I’m Steve.”

They shook hands and before Odera tried to speak again, not trying to be rude to literal Captain Fucking America, Peter stepped in.

“Ohh ummm, he can’t really speak right now.” Peter threw in a small chuckle though it was obvious that he was a little uncomfortable. Steve just nodded in agreement and simply said, “it’s fine.” Offering a friendly smile to Odera, and it somewhat works.

Natasha steps up next and does the same as Steve. “Natasha, it’s nice to meet you Odera”

And for once, in a long time, Odera starts feeling normal, but something is still haunting him. He shakes her hand before she spoke up again.

“How did you and Peter meet?” Both boys turned to each other. Odera is speaking with his eyes and Steve catches those pulses from before and then,

“We meet back in high school, he was a grade above me but we had some classes together.” Odera nods with what Peter just said.

Steve’s theory just got proven right in front of his face. He just hopes the others are catching on.

Natasha says a few more words before the sounds of shuffle are heard behind her. The last four other Avengers come near and introductions are quickly made. Odera’s face looks puzzled as he looks around before Bruce spoke up at this. Odera looks at the doctor and motions his arms up and repeatedly open and closes his hands.

“Oh you mean Tony Stark? He’s somewhere, probably preparing some event." Clint caught on with what he was trying to say. Then like instincts, Dr Banner spoke.

“Are you pain, Mr. Odera? I could get you checked out, if you want, that is.” Odera looks like Peter. Peter nods and says some reassurance.

“It’s okay Odi, like I said, they’re the Avengers, they’re the good guys.” Odera briefly looks to floor before slowly comes back up and points at Peter.

“Yo-you want me to be there?” He wanted to make sure he’s getting the message right. Odera, who straight up looks like a sad puppy with a wicked case of heterochromatic nods. “Will that be OK, Dr. Banner? If I come with?”

“Yeah, I’ll just inspect his ears, oral cavity, heartbeat, his…um…eyes.” Bruce cringes at his poor choice of mentioning his eyes.

“And after that, we’ll get you situated with a room and some clothes.” Natasha stated, making it official that Odera will be staying for the foreseeable future with them.

“Unless you want to shower now, cause your hair looks like a hell of a mess.” Clint tried to joke which got him a small elbow to his stomach from Sam and a look from Vision. Shockingly enough, that actually made him feel hair and damn, was he right.

“If you want, I could help you with that.” Natasha offered, which made some heads turn at her offer. He looks over to Peter for to check-in with him, seeing with he can trust her already.

“Natasha cool, she’s nice to me.” Peter said simply, which is all it took for Odera to nod in acceptance, he almost looked defeated in doing so.

“I’ll go get the supplies. Peter, you’re helping me too.” She already saw the hesitance when he agreed. She wanted make sure that Odera was comfortable enough, so inviting Peter was a safe bet. Hell, the rest can join too, to show Odera that he can trust them.

It took nearly an hour to wash his hair but damn, did it feel rejuvenating.

Odera felt like his old self. Peter was there passing whatever Natasha needed. Steve and Sam were there too. They all asked questions about Odera and thankfully Peter already had the answers at the ready. Only once did he have to talk to Peter telepathically. Sam asked where did the name came from. Peter was about to answer when he realized he didn’t know himself, before he started feeling Odera’s words slip into his mind.

“Not…real…name…middle…”

“Oh, it’s his middle name actually.” Peter relayed the message.

“What’s his actual name?” Sam generally asked.

“Real…name…Raul”

“It’s Raul.”

They showed him “his” room. Odera doesn’t truly believe that. It’s a guest room at best.

They gave him 15 minutes until he has to go to the lab with Peter and Bruce. Odera went over The room. Queen size bed, a desk with some shelves, his own bathroom too. The closest was simple and had some clothes in them. They were standard SHIELD issued sweats, shirts, and some undergarments. Weirdly enough, the Avengers weren’t phased that he had on this armor on. ‘Guess that normal for them.’

Midway through changing, he left foot felt…weird. Upon taking off the greaves, he went motionless at the sight of his foot. It was black.

Correction, it was obsidian.

He wiggles his toes and flexes the muscles of the foot, all moving with that shiny texture. He glides a hand over just for it to feel like skin but once he knocks on the it with his knuckles,

Hard as a rock.

This strange pigmentation would travel up his lower leg, few inches below the knee. Strands of white would run up it, giving it some sort of astral design of sort. Something related to the Nine, no doubt.

He shakes his head while putting on socks and Pulling them all the way to his knees. Just like how he used to. Peter was patiently waiting outside till he heard the door knob turn and out came Odi, now in human clothes. All black sweats and sweater. There was no type of shoe wear in the closet, not even flip-flops.

The walk was silent, the only sounds were the the air conditioning and the distance sounds of life outside this building. Odera’s eyes were going all over the place. Every corner, every camera, every new thing that came to view. He places a hand on Peter’s shoulder as he places a few words in his mind.

“Banner…trust?”

Peter looks back at his worried friend when he felt the word come into his mind. “Yeah, you can trust Dr. Banner. he’s basically the team’s medic. You can trust him.”

Odera nods, but his eyes say other wise.

The doors to the lab slide open and the smell of metal, sterile-ness, and…incense? Whatever keeps Bruce calm. The doctor was looking at some screen when the young men walked in, a tablet in hand. He turns to greet them and signals with his arm for Odera to sit at the nearby bed.

“Nothing invasive, just a checkup like at the doctors.” He smiles as he brings a mobile tray at arm length and starts asking a few questions, expecting Peter to answer some of them. Bruce was proactive and provided a small notebook and pencil for Odera to write down anything and everything that he wants to say or input.

He asked for his name, his full name that is. How he was feeling. If he was in any sort of pain. If he can remember anything from the last half-month.

Nods and shakes and one written sentence on the notebook. His full name.

Raul “Odera” Leon

“Do you prefer Raul or Odera” the doctor asked, not wanting to offend. Odera raises two fingers, indicating the second option.

“Alright, Odera, I’m just going to check your ears, your mouth and eyes. Simple.” He nods as the doctor starts checking his ears. He mutters words only to himself and jot down a few words on the tablet. Then onto the mouth and teeth.

Then shit gets weird.

"Alright Odera, I'm just going to check your teeth to see if you have some sort inflammation or damage to the enamel." He nods as he opens his mouth. Banner places a wooden stick down onto his tongue and a small mirror into the mouth. That's when the skin on his cheeks starts, tearing, in a sense. Not a alarming tearing but more subtle. his skin turns in a shadow black with blue energy. It almost becomes transparent in a sense. Both Peter and Doctor Banner's eyes slightly widen at the sight of this. inside his mouth, his canines are a little bit more shaper then normal. The base of the canines are also that same shade of blue as the one present on the skin tearing on his cheeks. "Alright then…" Banner, trying to stay professional. All of this simply goes pass Odera. In reality though, minus the blue in his teeth and the skin being pulled apart as he widening his jaw, everything is fine.

Tools are retreated back onto the tray and a few more notes are added onto the tablet.

"Alright now onto your eyes…I take it that you've seen your face already…after…" He nods, knowing that Bruce doesn't want to talk on this subject if it makes Odera uncomfortable. They still haven't written the mission report from Wakanda and Norway yet, but best believe someone will get on that soon.

Bruce grabs the retinoscope and hovers it first on his right eye. Everything seems fine. iris responds to the light, no redness in the sclera, totally normal. "Everything looks good."

The left is, lack for a better term, fucking hard to describe it's condition. The sclera has no major concerns or redness that should be addressed, but the white that's near the pupil has a strange effect. the actually pupil itself is a bright blue that seems to move like fire. the iris is a much more darker shade of blue. It too looks like it moves like fire.

Then again, apart from the strange colors, everything is fine. the iris responded to the light and Odera didn't wince or show discomfort from the shine.

Bruce pulls back and writes down the last few notes he has from the whole examination. "Well apart from your new appearance, everything seems fine. everything seemed normal and responsive." Odera looked to Peter and telepathic talked to him, wanting to make sure that he heard right. that's when Bruce catches the pulses in his eye and scars.

"How did you do? The pulsing" Banner motions his hand over his left hand and flexes his fingers. A confuse expression comes across both Peter and Odi's face. That's when Odera took a deep breath, and connected to the doctors mind.

"Like…this?"

Banner's face becomes shocked at the words.

"Your telepathic, like Wanda." He seizes up a bit at the mention of Wanda's name, his eyebrows come closer together, his lips curl uncomfortably. "Do you not like Wanda, Odera?"

"She…seeks…kill…me…anger…brothers…end…"

oh

"She knows that wasn't you, kid. Sure she might be mad at you for now, but she'll come around." Bruce offers that to Odera. he nods slowly but still giving out the message that he understands.

"Get some rest, Odera. You have some catching up on the world, and a friend." His eyes go to Peter to indicate 'the friend' in his sentence.

'Do I deserve rest? I deserve to die.' The words would haunt him when he walks back to his room. lucky his room is right across from Peter's, unlucky that Peter has class in the morning tomorrow.

"After I'm back from the city, we can sit and just talk, do-does that sound good, Odi?" Odera smiles and faintly nods at what Peter wishes to do tomorrow. They hug one last time before entering their rooms for the night.

'maybe, maybe I do deserve to rest, a second chance even…' then the feeling of anger, rage, dread, comes into his mind. And a voice he thought he was departed from.

"DO YOU, WEAK THING? YOU DENIED ME MY RIGHT, MY ASCENSION. BUT IN RETURN YOU BECOME SOMETHING MORE, SOMETHING GRANDER…"

"…MY HEIR"

Chapter Text

It’s now been a few weeks since Odera has “officially” started living with Avengers. He still thinks this is temporary but he’s slowly believing it. On his second day, Steve and Natasha shown him the rest of their main building and the few others that make up the Compound. He was making use of the notebook Banner gifted him the night prior by asking questions about the Compound, what he is allowed to do and things of that nature. He very much understands that he will be observed and watched on to ensure he’s not a threat or a ticking bomb ready to explode at any given moment.

The days following that, is when they started pressing down questions about the Nine, his powers, and what happened to him for these past two years. He gave very simple answers.

The Nine were fourth dimension deities that were bound to the gravity of the planets of the Solar System. They were split into two groups, Sun through Mars wanted to help humanity, Jupiter through Neptune wanted to break free from their tethers and explore. But they all agree on one thing.

They needed someone to talk, an Emissary of the Nine. They wanted someone who was a great communicator and translator. They had the power to control time and space, allowing them to cause certain events and actions. Every major event that has happened is because they allowed it.

His powers would be labeled under Umbrakinesis, but there were so much more then that. In the days he would spar against training rookies(while wearing something to conceal his face) or even against some of the Avengers, they observed that he was very skilled at combat. Mastery of bladed weapons, short and long range. His favorite was a glaive.

He was able to conjure and summon whatever melee weapon he wanted, swords, daggers, spears and staffs. Didn’t matter what size or culture they came from.

It was like he was taught this. If only they truly knew.

But with his actual power, his abilities, they needed Wanda for that. Since she’s the only one that similar powers to him, they wanted her to act as a mentor for Odera.

She refused at first, still feeling resentment and hatred towards him; not the third ask from Steve, was when she finally agreed to aid him.

They both kept their distance. She would just tell him to stay calm and to not fight the energy, but to flow with it. Two weeks later, the wall of hate would crack down and Wanda no longer sees a murder, but a person with a troubled gift and curse. That’s when she would start feeling bad for ever wanting to hurt him, Peter’s friend, someone who was in need of rescue.

That’s when she was her job anyways, to rescue people in need.

Odera was able to summon bolts, darts, and even a shield of darkness. he was able to create walls for defense, jump into a shadow for a quick escape or for repositioning. She even helped with his telepathy. He was able to from more “stronger” sentences, granted it was till broken, but at least his messages were more clearer.

“I am sorry, that I made you feel unsafe. That you would coward every time I would walk into the room, Odera.”

He was a little taken back at her words. This was after a meditation session, he was able to float able the ground a few feet and a few strands of darkness danced around him.

“I know that you felt my emotions, my rage and hate towards you, and I am sorry. I know what it’s like to fear, to be feared.” She plays with her fingertips during her apology. Odera simply just walked up to her and gently grabbed her wrist.

“I…completely understand…Wanda. He was your…brother. I would’ve done…the same for my brother.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother, Odera?”

“Yes. His name was…Sage… he was older than me.” The glow from his eye would pulse at every word that would enter Wanda’s mind. His own little Morse code.

“Thank you for…not killing me.” now that earned a genuine laugh from her. From the days he fought from the Nine’s grasp. He would remember few traits and pieces of himself. Messed up chrono-receptors be damned. The Nine made him experience thousands of lives and a thousand deaths, all in the spam of two years.

Each Avenger would each individually help Odi became more situated to reality. He and Steve bother shared an interest in drawing. Natasha and Wanda learned that he had a thing for fashion and took him shopping. Sam and Bruce would talk about some medical stuff and terms with him since he wanted to learn more. Clint helped him with some archery skills since he always wanted to learn how to.

Tony just gave him a phone and credit card.

And Vision was just Vision, though they did have a conversation only once. The topic was about how it felt being human again.

And of course, there was Peter. By the end of his week being in the Compound, Peter, with permission from Tony, brought Ned and this girl named MJ to their place. Odera remembered Ned of course, this MJ person was new but he felt comfortable around her.

'If Peter and Ned trust her, so can I right?'

It was a Wednesday early morning when Steve, Nat, and Sam came into the living room, already dressed for the day, when they come to a halt to see Odera already up this early.

He was slumped on the couch, sitting criss-cross and leaning into the cushion. He was wearing dark green sweats and a light grey quarter zip hoodie. He had on a pair of headphones on and the book 'The Song of Achilles' opened in his hands.

"Wonder what he's listening too." Natasha wonder, and thankfully since the headphones and phone were of StarkTech, a certain AI could help with that. "Oh Friday, can you show us what Odera is listening too?" a little bit of and mischief and playfulness in her voice.

"Yes, Agent Romanoff."

She pulled out her phone and raised the volume to a agreeable amount and

"Me, I like a bitch mixed with it all

Love a clean bitch, just so I can hit it raw

I'm a different breed, type to hit with my dawgs

Used to be a hooper, now she playein' with my balls"

"Ooooo-kay" Steve was taken aback at the words.

"Friday-turn-it-off." Natasha, her words sounded as one, regretting her choice and even life; while Sam started laughing a like fool and now had his hands on his knees.

Odera, unphased at the chaos happening on his left still deep in reading. He was even bobbing his head gently.

He shut the book dramatically and extended is arms out, face scrunching in the process. "Must've been up for a while." Steve said, based off Odera stretching.

His head sways to the left, eyes blinking to get readjusted to his surroundings, finally figuring out the three blurry figures in front of him. His eyes go up in shock, with a little bit of embarrassment, when he made eye contact with the three people.

He waved at them while a hand goes up to remove the headphones. The others said their "Hi" and "Hey" to him. Steve asked what he was doing which just led to lift the book and shake it a bit. He asked why he was so up this early, which Odera answered, through his mind.

"I could not sleep…I had a…I forgot the what it is called."

"A nightmare?" Steve finished his sentence. By now, The Avengers knew about his telepathic ability and the thing his left eye does when he's using that power, So Nat and Sam just nod when Steve randomly spoke.

"Yeah…A nightmare. Where are you…guys going?"

Steve quickly looked between Nat and Sam, not allowing them time to look him in the eye, before speaking again. "We were going to Wakanda to pick up a good friend of mine. He's going to be joining us now." Odera simply nodded at the Captain. Then a idea came into his mind.

"You want to come with us?" Steve, now with a little bit more upbeat tone and a small smile tugging at his lips. Nat and Sam didn't reject this sudden offer, but they were a little curious at why he did it,"

"Wakanda…" Odera looked at Steve one last time before changing to Natasha. "The Golden City?"

"Yeah, the Golden City." Natasha repeated. Sadness crept across his face. New words came into focus in her mind.

"I…am not welcomed in…Wakanda."

"What do you mean, Odi?" Natasha shifted her onto her hip and leaned her head to the left, confused on what he meant by "not welcomed"

"As Weapon…I attacked Wakanda…hurt its people and land…earned title Demon…I deserve to be called that…not welcomed."

'How did he know that scientist called him that?' Natasha ponder at this for a few before getting back to Odera's concern. "I'm sure King T'Challa would excuse your actions against his kingdom and people."

"King, yes…but what about his people?"

"Then it's their problem, not yours." Odera can't help but be taken aback at Natasha being at his defense. He can sense her feelings. He can sense ALL their feelings. He knows their keeping their distance with him, like their just waiting for him to act aggressive so they can turn against him and attack. All but Peter. He considers the offer, his mind thinks about different scenarios and encounters, like running a trillion simulations at once, trying to find the perfect outcome.

He cannot find it, only grave errors and mistakes. He used to be good at overthink things. That's how he's been living since he was 12. 'If they're trying to be nice, just go with it man.'

"Can I go…change?"

Engine firing up

Cockpit lighting up with white, green, and red

And a downloaded playlist with fully charged headphones and phone

‘Best roadtrip ever.’ Odi humored himself

When Natasha gave him the green light to quickly change, the young man darted to his room. A small trail of shadow and dark blue followed him.

He quickly rummaged through his small collection of clothes he had so far. A couple of jeans and cargos, different colors. Some basic tees and some with some design or brand. A few shoes from Vans, converse, or some sort of street wear category. When he was younger, he used to hate cloth shopping when the school year would begin but now?

Man, does he fucking love it.

He quickly learned the phrase,”don’t let the outfit wear you, you wear the outfit.” And did that open his mind wider than what the Nine have done. He learned a bit of color theory, that jewelry and accessories really shape an outfit together. When Natasha and Wanda took him shopping for the first time, they were unaware of what he liked, till he saw a vintage flea market. Thank God the vendors accepted Zelle and Cash-App.

His style was a jack of all trades, not that type of trade. He liked alternative, basic, a little bit of old money, and whatever the hell pro-clubs and dickies fell under. To him, it would fall under “The Edgar” Or maybe even Hispanic, since most of the time whenever he saw someone wearing these brands, they were Mexicans or another type of Hispanic.

He grabbed a pair of dark grey jeans that were a bit baggy and a bit of a heel bite to them. A basic light gray zip-up hoodie and his new pair of shoes, the Adidas Campus’s.

Oh and rings, can’t forget those.

“You really know how to show out, huh?” Sam huffing at the whole wardrobe change.

“Oh hush, Sam. You’re just mad that he looks better than you.” Natasha bite back which led Sam to dramatically gasp and clutch his heart, Steve just shaking his head while smiling. “Alright, we got another super soldier to bring back to the world.

‘Super soldier?’

The Quinjet was halfway across the North Atlantic. The trip would only last another two hours. The jet’s reflected panels and autopilot were engaged, yet Natasha still lingered in the seat of the cockpit. Steve had his eyes glued on a tablet, reading the news and some mission reports from SHIELD. Odera and Sam were sitting one seat between each other on the left. Sam was on his phone reading something while Odera simply had his headphones on and slightly moving his head to the beat of the current song.

Sam briefly looked up at him to see him bobbing his head almost mechanical-like, his eyebrows would go and down in sequence. Sam gently taps his shoulder with two fingers, which breaks his trance and disrupt his little jamming session.

“What got you moving your head like that?” Sam teased him. Steve couldn’t help and look up to Sam’s words. Odera slid off one side of the headphones to hear what he had to say. Odera casually reached for his pocket and pulled out his phone to show him the screen.

Sam reached for the phone to get a closer look. The screen was showing that the song “Hijo De Su Madre” by Omar Apollo was playing. He looked at the lyrics and all can think of is ‘it’s very different from what your ass was listening earlier, buddy.’

“Let me put you on this one artist, you’re going to love her.” Sam’s finger quickly went across as Odera just looked at him confused, he looked to Steve for an answer; all he does is smile and shrug.

Then

"I’ve been drinkin’, I’ve been drinkin’

I get flirty when that liquor get into me

I’ve been thinkin, I’ve been thinkin"

‘You got, to be, FUcking kidding me?!’

Odera looks unamused at the song, cause he already knows it. Which prompted Sam to go on the offensive.

“What?” Sam, now offended.

“Really…Beyoncé?…I already listen…to her music dude.”

“You do?”

“Yes…I do Sam!” Odera throws his arms up at this…blasphemy. How could he NOT listen to her? ‘The fuck I look like?’

“OOOHHHHHH…have you listened to Lemonade then?” That’s when Odera’s face goes back to confused.

“Is Lemonade…a new album?”

“Kinda, it came out in 2016 and-“ Sam stops mid sentence at the sight of Odera’s face dropping to an annoyed and serious expression, and a loud sigh from Steve. “What?” Sam now generally confused, which led to Steve talking.

“Sam…Odera disappeared IN 2016.” Sam’s faces drops in horror and cringe at his poor choice of words.

“I am…sooooooo sorry.”

“Just play me…the damn album…Sam.”

The plains of East Africa would come into view as the Quinjet’s panels are deactivated and materialized in the air. They pass trees and wildlife. Slight panic stirs as Natasha pliots the jet into a mountainside. A firm hand is placed on his shoulder. He looks up to see Steve calm and collect. ‘How the fuck is he calm about! Am I missing something here?!’ Steve can’t help but give a light laugh at Odera’s visible fear.

Expect to crash and die, the jet goes through the trees as multiple layers hexagonal shapes start appearing as they go pass the greenery. And then the kingdom of Wakanda appears.

‘So this is Wakanda…’ Odera slowly walks up to the cockpit and grips a bar above him, stabilizing him as the jet soars over a great river. A woman is speaking through the speakers, giving them the green light to land near the platform closest to the Royal Family’s level. Odera looks back to Steve and gently places his hand on the Captain’s bicep.

“Are you sure that…I am welcome here? Does the King at…least know I’m with you…guys?”

“He knows. I informed him when you were changing, he’s actually looking forward to meeting you.”

“He…is?” Steve nods at the words echoing in his mind. This somewhat puts him at ease. He swallow hard as he looks back out the glass.

The Citadel looms overhead as Natasha maneuvers the Quinjet to land. They can all see a group of people walking to the middle of the courtyard; stopping a few feet away. The ramp lowers and one by one the Avengers, and Odi, step out.

First Steve, Sam, Natasha and Odera. Odera lingers behind Natasha more than Steve when he is out of the Compound. Granted, he’s only been out a few times and most of it he had either Peter or her with him. He knew he could trust Steve because

A, he’s Captain America

B,He’s Captain America

C, He’s. Fucking. Captain. America-ah

Does more need to be said? No? Moving forward then.

Steve and T’Challa embraced each other with a firm handshake and proper manners to Queen Ramonda. Natasha and Sam do the same.

Then came Odera. Who just stood there like an idiot. A scared idiot because he saw multiple guards and these bald women grip their weapons a bit more harder and their eyes sharpen at the sight of him.

For this, he bows his head slightly downwards, he shames this place.

“King T’Challa, Queen Ramonda, this is Odera. He’s one of Peter’s closest friend and has been staying with us at the Compound since he’s been free from his captors.” Steve, Natasha and Sam retreat backwards to stand side by side with him. It wasn’t to put it out for display, it was a way to show that, they care for him and that they’ll be by his side.

He sees this both ways, leaning more into the first one. He looks back up to see King and Queen, and a young woman beside the King. It dawns on him who she is.

He remembers the fear in her eyes as he gripped her throat.

He remembers how he went through her mind looking for something, violating her privacy of her own mind.

He remembers it all.

Odera makes eye contact with all three members of the Royal Family before quickly looking to Natasha and gesture with his hand. He want to say something to them, but she needs to relay the message to them. She nods and lets Odera’s word come into her mind.

“He says…’King T’Challa and Queen Mother…I know that I have brought terrors and violence to your grand kingdom…please know that was not me…my will was not my own….I've seen how your guards tightened their grip on their weapons at the sight of me, and I do not blame them…if my presence here brings discomfort or shame to you,then I’ll return to the Quinjet and wait on board for the remainder of the this visit.’”

Steve and Sam looked defeated at Odera’s words. Queen Ramonda brings a hand to her heart as she feels it saddens at his words. Natasha voice softens when he started saying that is presence brings shame and that he’ll wait until in the Quinjet.

Odera looks away from Natasha, avoiding her eyes, and looks back to the Royal Family and bows his head slightly.

If his words weren’t enough, his damn mannerisms might be.

“Sweet child, your words are strong, but speak of lies.” Queen Ramonda stated. Odera is dumbfounded at her words.

“You do not bring shame to this place. Yes, you brought terrors and violence to our home, but that wasn’t you, it was something wearing your face and voice, something out of hate and anger, and I know that’s not who you are.”

Odera nods, and swears he can feel himself get emotional.

“Your will was taken from you by cruel things, by things that make our fate” she laughs before her voice drops to that motherly tone instead of a Queen at a war table. “No one makes your fate but you.”

“You have guilt, monsters don’t.” The young woman next to the King spoke, there was a little bit of teasing, but her words stood strong and truthful.

“Forgive my KingsGuard and Dora, they failed to see an ally rather then a foe. I apologize with Wakanda has already made you feel unsafe, that is not our way.”

Odera, now a little at ease by the King's words, drops his shoulders in relief and expression changes to that of a grateful one. The Queen, King and his sister smile at the young man's now more positive appearance.

"Sargent Barnes is on his way, it will be some time before he arrives, please…" T'Challa gestures his hand for all them to walk back into the Citadel.

In the hall leading to a garden, most of group are engaged with small conversations while Shuri just stares at the back of Odera’s head. “I can’t believe he’s here.” Her undermining tone reaches to Okoye. Her eyes have not left Odera since she saw him going down the ramp.

“I pray he tries to do something, an excuse to drive my spear in him.” Odera’s head was wondering up a piece of art when it suddenly went straight, like a soldier at attention.

Both Shuri and Okoye share a look between each other before he taps on Sam’s arm and his eye starts glowing in a sequence. To them, it’s a strange sight. To Sam, it’s normal.

“They do not know…how to whisper do they?” Odera’s face is neutral when he “talks” to Sam.

“Don’t let them get into your head, we won’t be here for long.” Sam says. At the corner of his eye, he sees the two women becoming confused at him speaking randomly to him. He sighs, that they both heard the two women talk about Odera like that, quite literally behind his back and loud enough.

They get to a garden that also acted as a training ground for one-on-one drills or sparring. The floral that were blooming here were shades of oranges, reds, and yellows. They spread out a bit, Odera and Natasha linger to a set of yellows flowers. ‘These almost look like marigolds…these would’ve been nice for Día De Los Muertos.’

He gently plucks one and carefully close his fist. He shuts his eyes and take a deep breath, face scrunches a bit. He wishes he can remember the prayer his mother would say to him each night when he was little. He’s not religious, but it is comforting.

“How are you liking Wakanda?” Natasha gently nudge him. Her expression softened as she smiles.

“It is a beautiful…place. It is vibrant.” This words echo in her mind. Her smile grows a bit more at the words. “Before you, we would often visit this place for Steve’s friend.”

He nods with a small smile with his lips. They turn to the sound of Nakia approaching them. She was wearing her tribe’s but not their clothing, though it was Wakandan design. “It is great to see again, Agent Romanoff.”

“Great to see you too, Nakia.” The two women embrace a short hug between each other before Nakia turns to the strange with a glowing eye.

“And who is this?”

“His name his Odera, he’s friends with one of the members of the Avengers. You remember Peter?”

“How can I not? That boy was asking Shuri and T’Challa thousand questions.” They laugh at the mention of Peter’s first and second visit to Wakanda.

“Odera is he’s friend. He was…not himself for sometime but, he has fought back for control again and now we’re here to help him. He’s also a bit on the mute side of things.”

Nakia nods in understanding, her face changes to an almost serious one when he heard a little bit of his story and muteness.

“Well I am glad you are back with us, Odera.” He nods at her words. Though she was a complete stranger to him, Odera she meant good.

And she certainly wasn’t like Shuri or Okoye.

Once word got to T’Challa that the Royal Talon is five minutes away, he informs the group that there going back to the landing pads. That’s where Odera would hear whispers about him again. He had no super serum in his veins, instead, he got Gods that reshaped and replaced his cells and body to one of a super soldier. And hey, that still fucking sucks.

It was now more then Shuri and Okoye uttering things under their breaths, but he was too focused on their words.

“Finally, he’s leaving.”

“May he go back to whatever Hell he crawled out of.”

He clenches his fists. Not from their words, but from someone else.

‘THEY UNDERMINE US, HEIR-PRESUMPTIVE. SHOWED THEM WHAT I’VE SHOWN YOU.’

‘Hell no, I’m not you.’

‘NO, BUT I SENSE THE RAGE IN YOU, YOUR BLOOD HEATING UP AT THEIR INSULTING WORDS, YOUR URGE TO RAISE YOUR BLADE AGAINST THE WARRIOR. SHE WANTS BATTLE? WE WILL GIVE HER WAR.’

‘I said no!’ Odera forces that thing’s voice and presences back to the edges of his mind. ‘Why the hell is It there here?’

“You okay?” Steve places his arm on Odera’s left bicep. He nods firmly and goes back to looking straight ahead. His fists are still clinched.

The Royal Talon flies over and descends down to the landing pad nearest to the QuinJet. Two members of the KingsGuard step out first; both shift to attention at the end of the ramp.

And out came Bucky. T’Challa and Steve were one of the first people to greet him. Then Odera gets to thinking.

‘Waitafuckingminute’

He taps Sam and he gives him permission to go into his mind.

“Who is that…exactly?”

“It’s Bucky. You know, Cap’s best friend and all that.”

“You mean James Buchanan…Bucky Barnes? Sargent Barnes of the…107th Regiment from…the 1940s?”

“Yeah?” Sam is now a little skeptical at what grade Odera got in his history classes.

“He’s alive?”

“Yeah-how do you not know this?” Then Sam asks another question, but only to himself.

‘Does he not know about Winter Soldier?’

The flight back to New York was…weird.

After Bucky got out the Royal Talon, the Avengers and Wakandans said their farewells and when Odera tried to shake the hand of Shuri, Okoye went to her side.

“Relax General Okoye…I didn’t answer your…prayer.” Odera’s eye hummed in rhythm as he smiles to the shocked face of Dora.

No one has ever mentioned her name during this trip.

The flight itself was quiet and like before. Natasha in the cockpit, Sam and Odera seating with a space between them. Only know Steve wasn't glued to a tablet; instead he was talking with Bucky. Since his time with the Avengers, he has seen the Captain laugh and joke with the team, but what he's seen in front of him…

Surely there was something between them, right?

He slid off his headphones and scooted over to Sam who was mindlessly scrolling Instagram. He budges his shoulder with his, grabbing his attention. he points to his eye and Sam nods. "What is it, OD?" He hates how he can understand whether he used "Odi" or "OD". Though, the nickname was somewhat funny.

"Steve and Barnes…are close friends."

"Yeah they are."

Odera frowns. 'Not what I really meant.'

"They seem pretty…close, do they not?"

"What are you getting at?" Sam squints his eyes puckers his lips a little. Sam figured out the Odera was bit of a instigator, so whatever he was getting into right now could either be teasing or pure speculation.

spoiler alert, it ain't

"Just…friends?" Odera echoes the words in Sam head. Then it clicks.

"Noooooooo, you don't think-" Sam's voice drops a little then back up. Odera wildly gestures his hands in the air, expressing at Sam finally catching on.

"What are you two talking about?" Natasha jump-scaring them both. Odera slightly jumps and Sam just flinches back.

"Ummmm…duuuuu…nothing, nothing important." Sam spoke for the both of them. Odera just giving a awkward smile, as if he got caught doing something he wasn't supposed to do.

She seats next to Odera and leans back. She shuts her eyes but still talking. "We have about 45 minutes till we're back home." She alerts the men, and boy.

Steve and Bucky break their conversation to turn to the three people, only to see a confused look spread across Odera's face, brows furrowed and eyes distance. "Is something wrong, Odera?" this prompted Nat to open her eyes again. He gestures two fingers to his eye, then motions to Steve, he nods.

"Home?"

"Yes, Odera, home." Odera looks to Steve, he nods slowly with hesitance. He doesn't believe the Compound is home. His home. His home was back in California, somewhere in the Central Valley. A two-story house next to the fence of the middle school he attended with a somewhat tended front yard. That was his home. Not New York with his aunt in Queens, not the Avengers Compound, not there.

Sam places a reassuring hand on his back, he speaks a few words, telling him that the Compound really is his home and things of that nature. He still doesn't believe but nods anyways, not wanting to offend or be rude. Then Nat recalls to this morning.

"Hey Odera, I have a question." he turns his body. His eyes shift to say go on. "You said you had the nightmare last night, what was it about?"

His mouth slightly parts before he licks his lips. Something gets caught in his throat and it bob in discomfort. "It sometimes help saying it, to get it out your system and into the world so it doesn't come back to you." That's certainly one way of seeing them.

He looks around, not wanting to ask permission to use his power, but he was looking for a tool. More accurately, the tablet Steve was using on the way to Wakanda. He turns to the Captain and draws a rectangle in the air, and points to him. He caught on and offers it. a few inches apart, he send a few strands of black and blue from his fingertips to tangle the tablet and take it off the Captain's hand. Unable remember what software it was for text-to-speech, he just opens the translation app and types out his answer, then uses the app's text-to-speech function.

"My earlier days as Emissary." The Quinjet is filled with silence and the clicks of the digital keyboard of the tablet. "I was taken to the Jovian Moons. first to Titan, they showed me a battle yet to pass but will end in defeat. Then to Europa, they showed something buried beneath the icy, something ancient but I don't know if it's in the future or now. Then Io, where V spoke to me for the first time."

He somewhat gets angry at the tablet for saying the letter instead of the number, which to his surprise, Bucky spoke up to that error. "V? As in the roman numeral for five?" A few clicks and…

"Yes. Jupiter is the fifth member of the Nine. They didn't want me to be Emissary but saw me as something else. I can't remember."

"I'm sorry, the what?" Bucky utterly confused now. Steve just told him he'll explain it later. Odera continues.

"I remember each week, or month, I can't remember, I would materialized to each planet to talk to them for that time. during this visit, I was with Jupiter. They showed me the past and future of the planet, and everything between, the events that led to them, or will."

Each Avenger is digesting this small but maybe useful information about the Nine. Bucky is left in the dark for the moment. All he knows about Odera is his name, him being friends with Peter, and getting his shit rocked by him back in Norway.

"So, they showed you, everything?" Natasha, almost dared to ask. Because in reality, what did he mean by 'everything'?

"Yes, everything. Mr. Roger's diving that ship into the ocean, the attack on New York. Mr. Barton saving you from the Red Room. They only showed me things that I will talk to, or encounter with."

The jet falls silent again.

The rest of the day was Steve giving Bucky a tour around the Compound and talking, while the rest of the Avengers went on with their daily routines. Sam, Clint and Natasha were in the gym training or sparring. Vision and Bruce in the lab alongside other scientists in the Compound. Odera and Wanda were meditating together out in the grass, till Peter gets back from the city.

The duo were deep in meditation, a few feet above ground level. Chaotic energy river down Wanda, shadows sweep off Odera and down to the grass. They speak through their minds.

“We cannot control people’s fear, only our own.” Wanda’s words make away to Odera’s mind. “We must become the ebb and the flow. These gifts are extension of us, but they do not define us completely.”

“How do I control fear if…I fear everything?”

“You must open yourself up again to things. Fear can scare us, only if we allow it to. If you fear everything, then your powers will be fueled by your fear, and not your control. Fight for control.”

The Dark energy channeling around him coils through this fingers. Inky smoke of black and white turn into concentrated strands of rope and strings, tightly woven to build up resistance and durability. Chaos energy gets pulled into spheres that orbit around her, like planets orbiting their sun. They form a ring around her entire body.

Wanda opens her eyes to see Odera’s calm state of being and eyes restfully closed. The ground below him looks like fire dancing upwards, dim and beautiful. She softly lands and reaches for her phone. It’s 4:45PM, which means Peter is fought 15 minutes away, give or take traffic.

“We have 15 minutes to spare. What do you want to do?” Odera opens his eyes to see Wanda already done with her medication and sitting on the ground, legs pulled up to her chest. Odera relaxes and spins mid air, stretching his limbs.

“I don’t know. I would say go thrift but…that’s a little too late. Plus it’s the…middle of week so there’s nothing…good.” Wanda giggles and Odera smiles at her gesture. Soft crunches of grass is heard behind him.

It was Steve and Bucky. Wanda smiles and waves, while Odera was suspended in the air and upside down. Thankfully, the super soldiers, well at least one of them, is casting a shadow below him so he just drops to the ground and falls right through. Both soldiers flinch and step back. “Still not used to that.” Steve confesses.

“Does he normally do that?” Bucky asked, sounding annoyed, literally no reason to.

“Yeah, randomly, but yeah.” Steve concluded. both soldiers take their eyes off the shadow when Wanda playfully chuckles at them.

“You’ll get used to it.” Her magic brings her onto her feet. She greets Bucky. Their small talk is interrupted when a sudden slash in reality forms and out flops Odera, landing in his side before getting back up happily. “Odera, there was no shadow there, how did you-“

“I…I made my own! I don’t know…how but I did it! Granted it did hurt…a little but it still…happened!” His words pour into her mind, a sign of his excitement at this newfound ability.

His excitement dies down when he sees Steve and Bucky. ‘Oh, so that who’s created that shadow.’ He pieces it together before giving a nod, though it could’ve been mistaken as a bow.

“Bucky, you already meet Odera, right?” Steve looks to the other super soldier.

“Yeah…back in the Quinjet and…Wakanda.” He sounds…skeptical. And man, did Odera catch it immediately. His happy expression goes neutral, not the same of Bucky’s but, it’s something.

“He can’t speak, but he’s a telepathic, like me. He’ll always ask to speak through your mind before he does.” Wanda speaks up. Bucky’s eyes don’t leave Odera.

“Can’t or won’t?”

‘The fuck is this dude’s problem? It ain’t even been a full day.’

“He can’t. Banner said it could be selective mutism or because of trauma he won’t speak, probably what he’s been through with the Nine.” Steve must’ve caught Bucky’s tone and spoke up again. It almost sounded like he was defending him a little.

‘HE DOES NOT THINK WE HAVE A VOICE? OUR VOICE IS A BATTLESONG, YOUR VOICE IS A BATTLESONG. IT WILL SURGE WITH HIS PULSE. HE WILL KNOW ONLY WAR.’

‘Shut. The. Fuck. Up.’

Odera grits his teeth and eyes narrow. Not at Bucky but he was looking at him. He saw Bucky’s brows and eye furrow in confusion. ‘Why the hell is he looking at me like?’ He thinks to himself. Odera doesn’t know him yet he already hates him. If only the soldier knew the real answer.

Wanda calls out to Odera, letting him know that Peter is two minutes away. He repeats the nod-bow and trails Wanda.

Once they were out of earshot, Steve drops his shoulders and releases a heavy sigh. Bucky gets confused.

“Buck, what the hell?” Steve slightly annoyed question his best friend.

“What?” Bucky, clearly unaware of what he did.

“You haven’t even gotten to know the kid and you already hate him.” Steve said, which makes Bucky’s mouth drop at the accusation.

“I don’t…hate him. I just…don’t trust him. Yet.”

Steve just sighs. At least he said “Yet.” So there’s still a chance.

Maybe.

Chapter Text

It’s been a week since Bucky has been back and he’s…adjusting.

During his time in Wakanda, he was exposed to highly advanced technology but he had Shuri and her entire lab staff help him through it all, smartphones, devices, what has happened in the past 70 years, granted it was a lot, but he only got the important events and dates.

And yes, he knows it’s legal now. But homophobia be damned.

You can thank religion or being born during that time. He learned from an every early age that he had to hide this part of him from the world, his family, but not from Steve. Steve understood, Hell, he lived it. Being different, the outcast, the weird kid.

Maybe that’s why they became friends in the first place.

Bucky was the golden child of his family, perfect grades, got into sports in high school, was a gentleman with the dames. Of course they would fall for him and he had to play along. All of it.

It was only when he was with Steve that he could…just be. Granted he would still make comments on a beautiful girl he saw in class or a woman passing by in a gorgeous dress. But when he saw a guy? He would still comment, but it was meant to be something else. It was forbidden but God, did he want to be normal.

Steve tried his best to help Bucky through this, hugs, being there for him, Steve even said he’ll offer to take him to a club with only people that are friends with Dorthy.

Don’t know what "being friends with Dorthy" means? Google's free.

Then came the war, it was like the locker room all over again, except with the fear of getting air-raided or ambushed. But in fleeting moments, either passing by the barracks or eating at the dining tent. He would…hint to other guys. I mean he was a Sarge, right?

Of course, none of his nightly encounters would lead to nothing more, just a onetime thing. It would sting when they wanted no more then just sex or whatever they agreed that night. It doesn’t hurt to wish for more.

Then came the train and…well, you know the rest, don’t you?

Now in the new century. New laws and regulations. Bucky was shocked to learned about Stonewall and the AIDS epidemic. If he was still around during that time, we would’ve been to those, he knew Steve would too. So he caught up. Important figures, events, and political fights that have conspired. It makes him happy that people stood up against hate and oppression. It makes him happy that people stood up for when people like Bucky couldn’t.

It made him…felt seen almost. Minus the 70 years of calibrations and being strapped to the chair.

In the Compound, he would either be sparring with Steve or Natasha, have small conversations with Sam. Clint would just nod when passing him in the halls. Bruce and Vision kept their distance, not out of fear, but due to have tendencies tasks in the lab or the R&D department. He wanted to know Peter and Wanda, just one problem.

Odera would be with them. Almost all the time. Either with Wanda meditating or practicing with their abilities; with Peter hanging out in his room when he studies or just wanting to be in his presence. He learned that Odera is…reserved. Always asking before doing something. Had his hands behind his back at all times. And just stare.

Steve said when he “talks”, he would ask first, if the person says yes, he’ll telepathically print the words or sentences he wants to say in the person’s mind; his eye would glow in some sort of sequence, signaling that he’s speaking.

However, when Odera was alone. He would just be reading some book or just staring outside standing, noise canceling headphones on his head and music playing. Little would he know the conversations he would be having with himself.

'YOUR GIFTS WANE IN ENTROPY, YOU MUST SUSTAIN YOURSELF.'

'And by "sustain" you mean cause violence and hurt people? I'll pass.'

'YES! THIS IS OUR LOVE. I WAS CONJURED BACK AS WAR, AND NOW I PASS IT DOWN TO YOU, HEIR-PRESUMPTIVE.'

'I won't become you. We are nothing alike!. I will not feed this obsession.'

'IT DOES NOT MATTER WHO'S BLOOD WILL BE SPILLED, YOU WILL BE SATED ALL THE SAME. IF IT WAS BY YOUR HAND, THE TITHE WILL BE MORE POWERFUL THEN THESE PAWNS.'

'Are you calling the Avengers, pawns?'

'I AM CALLING EVERYONE A PAWN. EACH ACT OF VIOLENCE, WE GREW IN STRENGTH AND POWER. A TITHE MUST BE LEVIED. YOU WILL REMOVE EVERYTHING THAT CAN BE REMOVED.'

'I rather starve.'

'YOU'RE ALREADY STARVING.'

One afternoon, Wanda and Vision were beginning to work on dinner, something obviously big enough to feed a whole village. That day, Tony decided to drop by since he still lives in the Tower with Pepper Potts. He usually drops by randomly but most of the time it would be for some “team bonding” activity or day. He could not care less but it does help him get distracted from long, boring meetings and galas, though he loves to throw them. For charity, of course.

Sam, Clint, Natasha, Steve and Bucky were on the couch, bickering over whatever the hell was on the TV currently. Pepper was just sipping on wine, amused on what’s happening before her. Tony and Bruce finally crawl out the lab, discussing something about nanotechnology. He looks up to scan the room, noticing two missing teenagers.

“Where’s Peter and Bluey?” His tone somewhat drops.

“Bluey?” Steve questioned on who is Bluey. Tony just rolls his eyes at Roger’s lack of knowing his humor.

“His friend.” He submits, which lead to Natasha saying there both in Peter’s room.

“You know, I haven’t really met Odera, how is he like?” Ms Potts said, legs crossed over each other as he leans back into her chair.

“Despite being a mute, he talks a lot.” Sam said first, there’s a slight tease in his words. Odera does talks a lot. About everything and anything.

“He’s nice, pretty skilled too. I gave him one archery lesson and he landed seven bullseyes. Seven! The kid is wickedly good.”

“He mainly just reads most days. Today I caught him reading…what was it? I think it was called FireBird.” Steve recalled from earlier today. He walked into kitchen wanting a glass of water when he saw him sitting on one of high chairs, and of course, headphones on.

Then he decides to throw in a little detail about the book, and thing go south, in a good way.

“The cover had two men, looked like they were about to kiss.”

Now that raises a few eyebrows and heads turning.

“It had two men kissing?” Banner just wanted to make sure he heard correctly, trying not to sound judgmental.

“About to kiss.” Steve said, already sensing something in the air. Thankfully he doesn’t look to Bucky cause man, that would’ve being weird.

Clint smacks his lips and says what surged into everyone’s mind. “Is Odera gay?”

“Dude…” Sam deadpans to the archer.

“I’m being serious!” Clint defends himself. “I mean, for starters, he dresses a lot differently than most of the guys here.”

That’s nothing.

“He listens to Beyoncé, like Sam but here’s the thing…” he turns to Sam and ask if Sam likes men, he said no.

That…just means he has good music taste.

“Come to think of it…” Natasha adding in her two cents into this. “I did catch him staring at that one male rookie. Short black hair, tall, clean jawline, cute face, and a nice butt.”

…

Well shit

"What's this now?" Wanda and Vision make their way to the couch and seat, wanting to bud in the conversation. Wanda next to Steve and Bucky, Vision just stood.

"We're trying to figure out if Odera's gay or not." Sam informed the two. Vision looked confused and Wanda titled her head at him, eyes narrow down and lips slightly part.

"Why do you want to know Mr. Leon sexual orientation?" Vision's formal words were all questioning.

"Well Steve said he saw him reading a book earlier today, and the cover had two men looking like they were going to kiss, so we got to thinking." Natasha quickly summed up their conversation prior to these two joining in.

"I mean, it's not really our business to…" Steve nervously laughed, now regretting ever mentioning the book. "All in all, he seems like a nice young man, talented and skilled and…OK yeah he dresses I guess better then us guys."

Multiple voices started overlaying each other, now on the topic of Odera's fashion choices. unaware of the approaching sounds of footsteps to the left of them. Once the footsteps came to the halt and no one noticed, Peter decided to speak up.

"Hey guys! What's going on?" everyone immediately shuts the fucks up as Peter spoke, both Peter and Odera frown at this. "Ummmm…okay."

Everyone just smiled, even Bucky but damn was it lowkey awkward as hell. Both of them started to do the token "Gen Z stare" as they each individually looked to the people on the couch, hoping one of them speaks up. No one speaks up.

Then Pepper got up and walked up to the duo.

"I don't think we met yet. I'm Pepper Potts, but you can call me Pepper." She offers her hand to Odera. He shakes it back, now more comfortable meeting strangers. She hugs Peter, already knowing each other. Then she turns back to Odera, an idea is brewing in her head.

“You like fashion?”

His eyes perked up at the word. He nods, a smile curls at the edge of his mouth.

“I got invited to some fashion show back in the city, later this week. I already ask Tony if he wanted to go, but he said no.”

“I-wha…I said what now?” Tony’s brain malfunctioning when she said that. He doesn’t even remember her asking.

“And given that you like fashion, how about you come with me? I could see if I can get Ms. Romanoff a seat, as a bodyguard. Right, Nat?” She turns to Natasha. A smirk is on her face.

“Not opposed to the idea.” She firmly told her.

“Great, I’ll send a car for you a day before the show, in the meantime, we are going to shopping leading up to that day. Whatever store you want to go but we’re going to the Louis Vuitton store on 57th street."

‘Did she just say Louis Vuitton?!’ Odera’s brain starts malfunctioning just like Tony. All he does is drop his mouth a little and raise both his eyebrows and eyes in shock, with a slight twitch.

her phone rings and she excuses herself out of the living room and into the hall. Everyone just looks where she was standing, then to Odera’s expression.

“What just happened?” Peter, who’s still processing it.

“I think OD just stole Tony’s girl…”

The room bursts into laughter. Peter, Bucky and Odera are the only ones who don’t laugh. There still confused on what the hell just happened.

Ding!

“Foods ready!”

The kitchen sparks to life, the clatter of plates and utensils, cabinets opening and closing. Most when to help set the table while the others went to go sit. Odera sat between Peter and Clint and across from him, Bucky placed himself between Steve and Wanda. Great.

When he was seating down, Odera made an annoyed face at the sight of the man deciding to seat in of him. His face quickly changed when he felt his shoulders get clapped by Clint’s hands, scaring him and made him a little in his chair.

Clint teased him, telling him to relax, he just rolled his eyes and exhaled, the small smile on his lips giving himself away. Food now served and everyone’s voices die down to whispers like volume, not wanting to disrupt the peacefulness that some kitchen would bring. Not here though, the Avengers can get loud as shit but at least dinner time tends to be slightly quieter.

Of course, to add on more to his plate, there’s an annoying War God speaking in his head.

‘WHY DO YOU CONTINUE TO STARVE YOURSELF? DO TITHE NOT SEEK OUR FORM? OUR BLADE, DULLED?’

‘How many damn times to I gotta say this? NO, I am NOT going to hurt people.’

‘YOU SOUL WILL START TO EAT AWAY AT YOU. YOUR BODY WILL BEGAN TO BREAK.’

‘I’ve been through worse…’

‘THE NINE? THAT WAS CHILD’S PLAY. YOU WILL FEEL PAIN LIKE YOU NEVER BARE WITNESS TO.’

‘I’ll manage.’

‘YOU WON’T…’

Odera without realizing he was now just playing with his food, moving it around with the fork. Unaware that a set of eyes were seeing this. He snapped out of this old habit and started eating. He could feel his eyes sunken and whole face shift to an angrier annoyed one. He looked up to see both Bucky and Steve look away quickly. His eye bounce between the soldiers before carrying on, now a little unease, the familiar of being judged creeps in.

“So, how was your day?” Peter’s familiar voice broke through Odera and he turned to face. With Peter, he didn’t need to ask permission as much as he would if the others.

“It was good. I helped Dr.Banner with a…theory about my powers” Odera words gently formed in Peter’s head.

“Oh, that’s cool. What did you guys do?”

“He wanted to see how they…would react to ice and elements of cryo to…my shadow abilities. Turns out I can…form ice walls and a coat…of ‘frost armor’ around me.”

“Frost armor?” Peter questioned what he meant by that. Odera then proceeded to stick out his palm out and upwards; motioning with his eyes to tell Peter to look. This caught Clint’s attention and pause to stuffing his face with rice and meat. Along with some others.

He relaxes his shoulders and soften his face. His hand slowly darkens as small shards of ice starts covering it. The sound of ice cracking like how you would hear in movies is low but satisfying to hear. Odera then flipped his hand, palm now downwards, in a smooth transition. Then the ice starts forming over the sleeve of his jacket. At this point, everyone stopped what they were doing and watched.

There was different facial expressions spread all over the table. Some were shocked, some smiled, some looked worried, given their history of being frozen.

Once he decided enough ice has formed, Odera flexes his fingers and closes his hand. Almost instantly, the tiny shards of ice and frost covering his left arm turns grow into large, sharp points and hardened skin. A few gasp filled the room. Odera slowly opens his fist and turns his hand, his fingers tips now looked claw-ish with icy and sharp nails. The shards on his arm are angled, if he was to drop his to his side, they would be pointing up to the sky. Though he had on a jacket, his skin would be hardened, the texture almost looks diamond like.

his arm began to glow a oceanic violet, signaling that the ice is about to dissolve. The sounds of glacier can be heard. The ice gives off one last pulse of violet before quickly dissolving into shadows quickly returning inside his body.

The room fell silent again, all eyes on him.

“When-when did you figure that out?” Clint asked, looking like a mixture of confused but almost proud.

“This early afternoon.” Bruce spoke up, now all eyes being turned to the doctor.

Dr Banner proceeded to talk about the limits of his abilities, wanted to see if it was only shadow manipulation and the telekinesis he has or if he was able to use the shadows as something else.

Turns out, umbrakinesis has a lot of applications.

He was able to turn fully invisible if the room was at a certain dimness. He was able to conduct a fair amount of electrocution through his body, then dissipate it in a shockwave like attack. He was able to imbue some of his powers into inanimate objects like an inactive dummy drone to make it active, or an unloaded firearm and causing it to shoot “shadow bullets”. Interesting fact is that only he was able to fire it, if someone else tried to use it, it won’t fire or even click.

He is able to emit fire from his hands as a light source or a tool. His telepathy however, is just that. He can read people’s thoughts and speak to them telepathically. Nothing more.

“Wow, so you’re a human multi-tool.” Tony’s voice is the first to speak after Bruce was finished. A few chuckled at it, even Odera gave off a smirk. Inside, he cringes at being called a “tool”. He reminded himself that he is not a tool or weapon anymore. Then again…

‘I DO SEE WHY THE NINE LIKED YOU. WHAT A ELEGANT PIECE OF VIOLENCE.” It chuckles deep and amused at Odera’s display of abilities and capabilities.

Dinner resumes back to eating and conversations. Then Odera decided to yawn, and Bucky almost chucked his spoon at him.

At the peak of the yawn, the skin on his cheeks started to tear and become transparent. The inside of his mouth was slowly being more visible as he opens his mouth more. His jaw almost looks unhinged and split open into two flaps of meat. His teeth are still human except with his tainted canines.

When the yawn dies down everything reverts back and Odera acts like nothing just happened. Until his eyes land on Bucky’s face of shocked and distributed. Odera just looks at him like offended him, before Clint jumps in

“Man, I will never not get used to that.” Both Odera and Bucky look at the archer.

“You mean that’s normal?” Bucky said

“Yeah, at first we asked if he was OK cause that looks like it hurts like hell. he just nodded and we all just went back to watching Shrek.”

Bucky slowly nods in understanding. Odera just listened to Bucky’s voice of unease, then decides he’s done eating.

Bucky didn’t mean to sound like that. Odera obviously thought differently. He did it all quickly but gently. Get up, pour the scraps into the trash, plate in the sink, and depart for the reminder of the night. Either in his room or in his shadow pocket dimension.

‘Anywhere but being near his negative ass.’

Sticking true to her word, Pepper took Odera shopping for his surprised invite to a fashion runway for the next few days, accompanied with Natasha. she do needed a outfit for this event as well. Both would serve as bodyguards for Pepper, but Odera was being considered as her plus one. Sure as hell the Press is going to have a field day at this sight.

They traveled up and down Manhattan, to luxury stores down to the thrifts. To him, before the Nine and his death, he didn't like the idea of people wasting their money on him; he felt like he didn't deserve it. In the high end stores, he would see a article of clothing, he would touch it, feel the material. It calls to him. He practically fell in love with it.

But that price?

Fuck all that.

In the end, he had assembled his outfit, no need for a stylist. All he needed was confidence and the feedback of the two women with him. His outfit was, let's just say simple. leather shoes, washed baggy grey jeans, white tank top, and a black trench coat. The jeans and shirt costed less then $100 combined.

The shoes and coat? $4,450 for the coat and $1,666 for the shoes…

'Sorry Mr.Stark' Odera uttered in his mind as Pepper mindless swiped the card. While the employee was bagging the clothes, Natasha bumped his shoulder with a smirk.

"Guess your a Louis Vuitton type of person."

All he does is give a sly smile, a little embarrassed and ashamed that he actually got those items. Of course caught this and said, "You deserve nice things, kid. we all do."

'Not me, I don't deserve this…'

The following day, the three were deep in New York. Faces beat, hair done, and way too up in the morning. The days before and in general when he to public, now he wears a pair of sunglasses big enough to cover the majority of his face cause of the scars. But today, he wanted to try something new. He had ask if there was a way he can go out in public without his scars on his face, without sunglasses.

Natasha to the rescue. She packed two sets of those face veils that can make you look like a different person; the same technology she used to hold Alexander Pierce by surprise in 2014. She programmed the veil to mimic his face without the reminds of his past on his face. Once set and primed, she gently placed the veil onto him.

“Take a look in the mirror.”

He went to the bathroom mirror of the hotel room Pepper booked for today and, holy hell.

‘They’re-they’re gone! Oh my God there actually…’

His face was…normal. The only difference was that his eye was still blue but blue like Steve’s eyes, a regular case of heterochromia.

He signs “thank you” to her. She smiles and gently places her hands onto his shoulders.

“I gotta say, you look pretty good Odi, I won’t be surprised if you get scouted out there.”

‘Maaaaannnnn stop playing with me.’

He smacks his lips and side eyes her. “Stop it.” He echoed the words. They both laughed as they her a knock on the door. Nat saying they can come in.

“You guys ready?”

Back at the Compound, everyone has gathered around the living room and had on the live stream of the runway. Celebrities and famous people were pulling up, flashing lights and journalists were screaming to get their attention.

Even Ned and MJ were there. All of them just wanted to see Odera, Natasha and Pepper. Some of them were still in their pajamas or clothes they wear to sleep. Approaching footsteps made Peter turn his head to see Steve and Bucky coming in. Steve looked like he just hit the gym and Bucky looks n like he just woken up five minutes ago. He was wearing sweats and a black top, Steve the same only he had on an active shirt on.

“What’s going on?” Steve said

“About to witness if Odi really does has a strong fashion game.” MJ reply, eyes never leaving her phone or the TV.

“Ooouuuu…” Steve quickly made his way to the couch and plop down. The only left standing, quite literally, is Bucky.

‘Might as well.’ He thought to himself. He walked up to couch and decided to sit between Peter and Wanda. Wanda offered to share her blanket with, giving that it was getting colder now, and to her shock he said yes. Bucky usually runs hot, given his body temperature and serum helps him maintain it. But this morning felt different.

15 minutes left before the show starts and none of them have shown up. A conversation ignited on what Odera might be wearing. Voices going back and forth if he was wearing a simple tuxedo, an outfit entirely designer, things like that. All this talk made Bucky curious.

“So…has Odera always liked fashion?” He turned to Peter. There was no teasing or malice, he was genuinely asking. This left Peter momentarily stunned at this tone but he answers relatively quick.

“Uhhh, I would say yeah. He always looked good back in high school. I remember he used to bring up what people wore if there was a gala or red carpet the day before.” His answer was based off his memory. Odera’s style could be similar to Peter’s, only with more darker colors.

He nods along, digesting the answer, before Ned spoke up.

“Yeah, didn’t he used to wear like jorts and a long-sleeve shirt with a jersey over it? I’ve always like those ones.”

“The hell are jorts?” Bucky left confused on the term, MJ responded almost immediately, eyes still glued to the screen.

“Jean shorts. Jorts.”

“Jorts.” Both Ned and Peter said the word in unison.

‘Jorts…’ Bucky makes a mental note of this.

A few minutes would pass when a black SUV pulled up to the carpet. The door swung open and out came Natasha. She was wearing a burgundy strap dress, double-ended zipper in front, running from the neckline down to the hem. There are two carabiner buckles on the shoulders. The zipper and buckles are gold-toned. Heels matching the dress.

She steps out first and helps Pepper come out, offering a hand. She was wearing a white shirt dress, with puffy sleeve shoulders. She had on gold jewelry and a necklace that looked like seashells covered in gold. He had on cream leather boots and a leather bag with gold hardware. She smiles and waves at fans and reporters, just trying to be polite. Then she turns.

Last, and least, comes out Odera.

He was wearing something like dress shoes. black waxed calf leather and leather laces, and outsole can be seen. Grey denim jeans sat on his waist like they were home. A simple belt was secured on, black leather and silver buckle. He had on a white tank top and a black necklace and chains on, A open trench coat was on him, opened to flow in the air has he walks. Black with a kimono collar and silk lining. It was cuffed and he did have two Sakura flower buttons on the left side on the front.

But the Avengers weren't focused on this, though one was. They were too focused on his face.

His eye wasn’t glowing

No scars

No strange iris or pupil color

Just icy blue and spruce brown eyes.

Everyone’s mouth has either dropped or eyebrows raised higher then God himself. Few noises came out of Clint and Ned, sounding like they were too stunned to speak. Wanda, Bruce and Sam’s mouths were forming into proud smiles. Steve, Bucky and Peter are starstruck. Tony, MJ and Vision were calculating on what to say next.

“You know, I was expecting big ol’ sunglasses like me plastered onto his face….” tony makes a gesture with his hand near his face. “…is this why Nat asked us for those Photostatic Veils, Mean Green?”

“Guess so.” Bruce huffs out

Odera links his arm with Pepper, just trying to be a gentleman, like how Ma thought and raised him.

Motherfuckas started screaming at them.

“Ms Potts, who is this? Where Mr Stark?”

“Is this a new member of the Avengers, Ms Potts? Ms Potts!”

“Did you leave Stark, Pepper!”

“Ms Potts-“

Natasha guided them towards where they needed to go before stopping for Pepper needed to take a photo for the press and proof she attended this event. Both Odera and Nat stood side by side. God bless Odera was born with a resting bitch face. “You’re doing great, kid.” Natasha whispered and winked at him. At nod to solidify her reassurance to him.

He returns the nod and looks back to Pepper, now done with the photo and smiles. “Wow Odera, you have a natural poker face.” She playfully teases. He smirks as they link arms again. He shoves his other arm into his pocket, thumb left out and resting on the hem on the pocket. They both walk in sync in steps and pace, though Odera is walking on his hips more than her.

More info-hungry reporters and interviews roar as they walk past them. “One won’t hurt, Ms Potts.” Natasha said, fully engaged in her bodyguard role. She looks forward and decides on the last interviewer in the row, closest to the door leading into the building for the show. Odera caught on quickly and lead her lead a bit.

She saw the company this interviewer works for and mentally relaxes but still prepares for whatever questions the interviewer might have.

(Yes it’s Pop Crave shut up)

They walk up to the interviewer, a somewhat tall Asian woman, straight hair down and had on a simple black dress with accents of white strips going up the dress.

“Ms Potts, can you tells us the newest technology that StarkTech has been working on?”

‘Oh thank God.’

“We currently on track on nanotechnology. Mr Stark and his team have worked on different approaches and iterations of the nanobots and how strong they are in holding up large structures or cargo. We’re aiming to launch these nanobots next year, and our intended usage for these boys are for construction purposes, making it easier for those who have to work on a more difficult environment.”

The interviewer nods and ask if she can ask one more question to her, she says yes.

“Obviously, people were expecting you and Mr Stark to come out here, not this person. And before I say more, I just gotta say I love your outfit, sir. But people are going to want to know who this is?”

‘Shit.’

She quickly looks back to her cameraman and back. Pepper looked at the lens and back to the woman. Odera, simply glanced the camera, looked up and down with his eyes, before elegantly looking back to the woman.

“Oh, he’s my nephew. it was very last minute, but Tony got caught up with something about the Avengers. So I asked him, and he said yes, and now, here we are."A

Pepper and the woman give out soft laughs while Odera huffs and smiles.

“I gotta say, he has it on. Thank you much for stopping by. Enjoy the show!”

The camera pans to him and the cameraman changes angles to capture Odera entire body. Slowly rising the camera from toe to head. He plays along and shifts in positions. He pushes out the part of the coat covering the pocket on his jeans and slides his hand in it, thumb out like before. All the while the two say their goodbyes and exchange and side hug, before the live stream smoothly transitions to a wide view of the building.

Everyone is silent, the only noise emitting is the TV screen and the air conditioning running. The Avengers and Peter’s friend all lean back in their seats before Sam throws his hands up dramatically and back down, declaring that Odera has “the best fashion outta all of us.”

Everyone mutters in agreement when MJ states there already a TikTok video about him and starts screen-sharing her phone with the TV.

A horizontal video pops up and it’s a side view of Odera walking with Pepper in his arm. His jawline is visible as the trench coat flows behind and his curls bounce as he walks. He walks with his hips a bit and puts a little bit more in each step. the video already has 7 thousand likes and the caption said, “Mr Stark has some competition. #PepperPotts and Guest have arrived at the Louis Vuitton winter 2019 show.”

And the cherry on top, “Crazy in Love” by Beyoncé was the sound for the video.

The room erupts in laughter and in lewd. Sam and Clint started a bad rendition of “Mr Still Your Girl” by Trey Songz and everyone just laugh and chuckles.

Even Bucky

Chapter Text

it’s been a couple of days since the show, Tony and Pepper left to go back to the Tower yesterday to stay clear of a apparent storm coming sometime tomorrow, though grey clouds have already formed.

Since the show, Bucky has been…noticing Odera a little bit more. Subtle things. The way he snaps his with his right hand twice when he gets anxious in public. The way his eyes linger when he spots the first star of the night. How he’s constantly fidgeting with a Lego figure in his hand when he’s on his phone or just sitting.

Bit of a mystery how he got a Lego figure, probably from Peter’s legos.

The day before, Natasha and Bucky were tasked to get the ingredients for dinner later that night. Sam had the idea to make chicken noddle stir fry. And he makes a mean stir fry.

While they about to leave, Natasha spotted Odera sitting near one of the glass walls, knees pulled up to his chest and back arched to rest his head on them with his forearms as a makeshift pillow. To them, he looked like he was just resting. In reality, he was silent battling with the War God in his head.

He feels it, trying to crawl out to prove “its logic”. To kill to prove its right to live and exist. He feels it eating away at him. This thing was right about starving. Each day, he feels weaker, unmotivated, even after meals he throws up sometimes.

It keeps nagging at him to cause harm and pain to satiate its logic, the logic that Odera has to follow now. The only outlet he can thing of his going on missions with the Avengers but that’s way out of question.

The other day, he met with Everett Ross, former CIA agent and Deputy Commander of the JCTC. He was now tasked by General Ross to oversee any and all operations involving the Avengers. Their missions, ops, and planning.

He already met Nick Fury and Hill on his third week being here. They were nice. Fury, of course, was a bit on the fence about another “unstable enchanced person” being discovered. Steve and Natasha give him their word that the Avengers while watch and guide him back to normalcy and maybe, just maybe, join them.

Ross, on the other hand, was not nice. He did try and go a bit softer on the questions but it still made him uncomfortable, ashamed, even mad.

And that madness was fueling the thing in his head.

The questions were standard questions for terrorists. Why’d you do it? Who made you do it? Did you do on your own terms? Are you planning on doing more terrible things? Why? Why? Why?

His blood was slowly heating up, exhaling become ruff, eyes harden. He was getting mad at these questions and not at Ross. The War God thinks otherwise.

“HE IS TRYING TO QUESTION OUR LOGIC? OUR BEAUTIFUL AND LOVING LOGIC? HERESY. HERSEY!”

“KILL HIM. KILL HIM AND GROW IN STRENGTH. TEAR HIS HEAD OFF AND PULL HIS SPINE OUT OF THE STUMP OF HIS NECK. DISPLAY YOUR POWER AND SHOW HIM OUR LOVE, PAINT THIS ROOM IN THE COLOR OF THE HERTIC’S BLOOD, SOVEREIGN-PRESUMPTIVE.”

Odera swallows hard as he feels the walls shrink on him. Ross has a few questions left and he’ll be out of sight, out of mind, and out of range.

Coming back to reality. Natasha went up t him and gently tapped his shoulder, unaware if he had headphones on or not. He got startled a bit but went back to his demeanor at the sight of her.

“Me and Bucky over there are going to the city to get a few things for dinner tonight. Wanna tag along?” She offered him. He blinks in surprise before he leans to the right and studies the soldier a few feet away from them. He comes back up and his eye gently glows as he forms his words into her mind.

“Does he always look at that?” She turns and makes eye contact with him. He furrows his brows in curiosity. ‘Why did they both look at me like that?’

“He always looks like that.” She teases which earns a frown looked on Bucky. She laughs as she turns back to see Odera give a smirk.

“So is that a yes or a no?” She said.

Odera nods

Bucky is on the wheel

Nat is in the passenger seat

And Odera hoped into the shadow of the car

Perfect

It only took them 20 minutes to get into the city. Nat was feeling generous and allowed Bucky to drive her Corvette for the day. Natasha tried to engage small talk with him, it went exactly how you think it went.

“Got any plans for today, Barnes?”

“Not really.”

“Really? Anything?”

“No.”

She rolls her eyes and looks out window. She would’ve turned to talk with Odera but he’s currently in the other realm and is somewhat in the car. In the other realm, he’s currently sitting on top of the roof has Bucky floors it on the highway.

Once he sees that there pulling up to a grocery store, he peeks out from under the car, upside down to see if either Bucky or Natasha have step out yet. Once he heard the car doors open, he went back into the shadow and decided to merge out of a nearby shadow, to make it look like he was coming from somewhere else.

They look around, Bucky and Natasha, to see where Odera might pop up from. He rounds the corner of a white pickup truck; putting on sunglasses and adjusting the bandanna on his head, making sure to cover up any exposed scars. He gestured the entirely of his head, asking if he’s covering the glowing blue scars and eye perfectly. Both Natasha and Bucky nod and they make way to the store.

They needed almost all of the ingredients for the food. Soy sauce, fresh vegetables, chicken and everything else for it. Of course, any other miscellaneous stuff like snacks and drinks and anything really. It’s on Tony anyways.

“If you want anything, Odera, just put it in the cart.” Natasha told him, noticing he was eyeing some sort of red drink. He turns to her and makes a face, little bit of duck lips and raised eyebrows, his way of saying, “oh, well alright then.” He turns back to where the red drink is at and walks towards it, he looks like he’s waddling to it.

He comes back with the drink and places it in the cart. Natasha catches the words on the paper and got intrigued by it. “Ohhhh that actually sounds good, can you go get me one?” Odera nods and goes back for another.

“You want one too, Barnes? Its watermelon flavor, has a fair amount of electrolytes, and is half a liter—half a liter?” Natasha quickly examines the bottle of water. ‘This bottle does not look like half a liter.’

“No, I’m ok. Thank you, though.” Bucky’s voice and low and calm. He was a bit unease, given that this is his first time in public since, well, forever.

The fall, HYRDA, Being on the run, being in Wakanda recovering. Sure, he’s been to the markets and districts of Wakanda, but this was different.

It was New York, the last place he was in, before the war, before everything. It wasn’t the same New York he grew up in but it was still his home. And to be back after of these years it’s…it’s unsettling almost. Natasha asked if he was ok, obviously she caught his tone.

“Yeah, it’s just…weird. Being back in New York after everything.” She nods at his confession. She huffs lightly, before telling a short story.

“If you think you’re having it bad, Odera was practically shaking like it was earthquake when he first came out in public. He was beyond anxious and scared being back after his…occupation. You know, it’s technically his third year living in New York.”

Now that caught Bucky’s attention.

“Really? Where’s he from.” He asked

“California, somewhere in the middle of it.” Bucky was under the assumption that Odera was born and raised here. He’s best friends with Peter, and he’s from Queens. Made sense to him.

Odera came back and dropped another bottle of the watermelon flavored water. They continued journeying through the store, grabbing the vegetables, a packet of chicken breast. Last thing they needed, well nothing. They had the sauces and noodles back home, so they just decided to walk around for a bit.

Bucky noticed the little things, the flicker of the light in the ceiling, the shelves that weren’t properly restocked with their merchandise, the mother with two kids pushing a cart full of groceries. He noticed that Odera was looking at them too, though he couldn’t see his face, he saw how is shoulders relaxed and his head slowly slumped down.

The next thing he noticed was Odera staring at a father with his son, this time, he was able to see his face. Natasha was listing off what they had in the cart, asking them both if they had everything. Bucky was too focused on Odera, his facial expression went almost serious, maybe even mad, his eye narrowed down to the scene of the father and son, who were happy. He noticed that he clenched his fists, and could see the corner of his right eye twitched.

Bucky looked to the father and son, back to Odera, then back to the father and son. His brain started coming up with theories, sad theories.

“Boys!” Natasha snapped them both out their own trances. Odera quickly looked back to her and Bucky could’ve sworn he flinched. “We got everything?” Both Odera and Bucky take inventory of the contents in the cart. Odera nods and gives a thumbs up, Bucky says, “yeah we got everything.”

They walked before Odera looks back to the father and son one last time. He swipes his nose a little too aggressive and rotates his right shoulder. Bucky noticed this too before he had to look away so Odera doesn’t catch him looking at him. At least he couldn’t hear the lovely conversation Odera was having during all this in his head.

'Fuckin' hate this.'

'HEIR-PRESUMPTIVE, I SENSE YOUR ANGER. NOW IS THE CHANCE TO ENACT OUR LOVE. THIS DISPLAY WAS TAKEN FROM YOU. MAKE THIS WORLD PAY FOR THIS.'

'If I do that, then I’ll be worse then Pa. And that’s a low fuckin' bar.'

It’s well past midnight.

Dinner went well, there was laughter and dense conversations. Everyone was in a good mood. Odera excused himself early from dinner.

Again.

For the third time.

Everyone’s eyes were questioning this, his early disappearance of the night, but no one spoke up, only watched. They all looked to each other with a worried expression. Still, no one spoke up.

Just watched.

Bucky was awake, no thanks to a nightmare. His hair smoothed down on his forehead, vision blurry but just for a moment, the sheets had a damp outline of him. When a nightmare hits him this hard, he usually goes for a walk, so that’s what he does.

The halls were dimmed, not a soul in sight. He opted to just walk barefoot, the coldness of the floor acts as a way to ground him in the present. He walks only a few feet down beofre he bumps into someone. Both bodies stumbled back and once he balances himself out, he sees that it was Steve.

“Ain’t it past your bedtime, old timer?” Bucky jokes, already at ease.

“Could say the same about you, jerk.” Steve bites back, all with a smirk. He was wearing sweats and a white tank top. Hair undone and his soldier-like demeanor was replaced by a tired man. “Why are you up, Buck?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” He lies. “You?”

“I was too busy thinking about Odera, he’s’ been…off.” Steve carefully choosing what word to describe Odera.

“You caught on to it too, huh?” Bucky said. The time lost friends began to walk together, sharing their concerns. Bucky says that he caught on the second day of Odera leaving dinner early, lot of his food was still on his plate. Steve noticed long before that, almost two weeks. How Odera took a bit more to react or respond, the way he always looks mad at the time now and how he always leaving when the team does something together.

Bucky doesn’t mention the fidgeting with the Lego minifigure, that could be since childhood and not a new habit. They were coming up to the hall leading to the gym when they both see that The lights are on and the door was slightly left open. Both soldiers looked to each other, wondering who else could be up this late. They walk up the hall and before they went to open the door…

A voice of coming from the inside. A voice neither of them recognized. It was man’s voice, deep, older, a bit of a raspy-ness to it.

And he was threatening someone. And both soldiers took a quick glance to each other, and barged in.

They saw Odera, on all fours, in pain. His muscles were constantly flexing, as if a series of bad cramps were happening all at once. Something was moving below his skin, it looked like ink, dancing beneath it. An arm was over his stomach as he used his other arm, balancing himself with his forearm. But that wasn’t the main attraction.

What was, was the smoke coming off from the right side of his body, making its way to the ground before rising up, into the shape of an entity. Its body wasn’t human but was humanoid. Broad shoulders and arms, body wasn’t human between fat and lean, it almost looked like it was covered in jagged bones and chitin.

Its head was rectangular, horizontally. The texture was like that of the body, only it had horns coming off near the center, to signify it was an organic being. The horns almost looked like a crest or crown. It had three glowing white eyes that looked like fireballs. They were in triangle formation. Given its smoky and shadow appearance, it had no mouth, yet it still spoke.

And it was speaking to Odera.

“YOU WILL NO LONGER CONTINUE THIS ACT OF HERSEY.” The creature clenches his right fist and Odera grunts in pain in response. Areas of his body began to darker as shadows began to dance beneath his skin more intensively. Bucky and Steve study his body before landing on his left legs They both realized that this is the first they’ve seen him wear shorts, meaning it’s their first time seeing his legs.

More importantly, the leg.

Where once there was stars in his obsidian leg, there was only white fire, burning wildly and intensely. They saw how the obsidian cuts off short, inches before hitting his knee. They also saw the creature turn to them.

“BARE WITNESS, MY HEIR-PRESUMPTIVE, YOU HAVE BEEN PRESENTED GRAND TRIBUTES.” This creature sounded almost excited to see Bucky and Steve, yet, there was some crazed in his speech. Odera turns his head to see what he meant only to see two worried, guarded super soldiers at the entrance of the gym.

The super soldiers can see shadows in his skin, the glow in his left eye rapidly dimming and brightening. Both of his pupils redialing,like a machine malfunctioning or the lens of a camera constantly adjusting.Tears on the verge of running river, they see him gasping for air, at least that’s what it looks like.

“THESE TWO WARRIORS HAVE SEEN THEIR SHARE OF OUR LOVE, OUR WAR ETERNAL. THEY HAVE TITHES LIKE NO OTHER. YOU WILL GROW FAT FROM STRENGTH FROM THEIR DEATHS.”

“What do you mean ‘our love’?" Steve ordered the creature holding Odera hostage. The creature simply laughs.

“THE THRILL OF THE BATTLEFIELD, THE VIOLENCE OF IT ALL. I WAS CONJURED AS WAR, AND NOW…” the creature moves behind Odera, looking down at him. He outstretches his hand towards him and energy is surged towards him. Umbra can be seen pooling in his forearm, legs, and face. Swirls of black sweep through his body.

“…HE HAS BEEN CONJURED AS WAR, MY CHAMPION, MY ACOLYTE, MY HEIR.”

Shadows began to form behind the creatures back, slowly forming into a pair of wicked wings, demonic in appearance. The ends of the digits have protruding bone-like spikes at the bottom, the membrane is ghostly blue but there are shadow black veins scatter across the wings. The creature extends his arm once more and sends out more energy to Odera from his palms. Odera falls to this side, now both arms clutching his stomach area as he curls more into a fetal position.

“YOU WILL TAKE UP MY MANTLE AND BECOME ME. YOU WILL REMOVE EVERYTHING THAT CAN BE REMOVED. AND YOU WILL BRING EXTINCTION TO YOUR ENEMY, AS I BROUGHT EXTINCTION TO MINE.”

Odera shakes his head no, like a scared child. Innocent, stubbornly, scared child. The creature growls in frustration.

“WEAK THING, I WILL SHOW YOU HOW IT IS DONE.” The creature looks back to the super soldiers, and summons a blade. The sound of unsheathing and Umbral energy made Odera look up, pushing past the pain in his body to see the creature facing Steve and Bucky, a sword in its hands. His face drops in terror as the creature glides over to them.

Odera jumps into the shadow of the creature and appears infront of it, quite literally shoving it back into his body. Its height dominates both the soldiers, almost touching the ceiling of the gym. But he manages. He pulls the shadow and energy that makes up the creature and pulls in towards him, to his chest and stomach. It feels cold, too cold. Like a flash freeze tenfold. He feels his body shudder and contour as he senses this creature’s corruption and “love” come back inside.

Bucky and Steve stand and watch, the creature’s body twist and turn into Umbra and shrink back into Odera. He grits his teeth and his eyes can only describe the measure of pain he’s going through. Tears have ran down his face. He bites down on his lip to the point of breaking skin and blood drips out. His arms snake around him as he secures the last bits of essence sweeping back into him. Then silence.

He hunches over, every breath sends a shiver sent down his spine. Weak pants and gasp leave his mouth, yet no voice still. Then, both Steve and Bucky unanimously take a step closer; Odera heads jerks back at the sound of this. All he does his shake his head, telling them “don’t come any closer.”

“Odera, please, we just want to help.” Steve, almost pleading. He could see Odera eyes scan the ground, the hardwood of the gym that splits into wood and some other material once near the actual gym equipment. “What was that thing?”

He shakes his head again, only now his face is more expressive. Eyebrows going up and down, lips trembling and nose is being scrunched. He can’t even use his telepathy because who will it be? Odera or that thing? Has it always been him speaking? Even if he wants to, will Steve say yes or no? Does Steve even trust him?

His breathing becomes rapid, the overthinking is making it feel claustrophobic, he can’t see clearly anymore.

“C’mon kid, you’re strong.” Bucky tried to help. He only made it worse.

‘No! Why is he here?! No wait, he’s-he’s fine. Or is he? His voice…no. The Nine…tempered glass and chiseled slab. Why is he here?! The edge of a blade, the tip of a bullet. I am judgment, one of many iterations, I am…I am…”

full panic explodes all over him. Odera falls backwards and puffs into a cloud of shadow, disintegrating into the air; all that’s left is more questions and two super soldiers trying to figure out the answers.

The soldiers gave each other a look of sorrow, unaware of what to do next. It bothers them they don’t know. They see their goodbyes as they go back to their rooms.

They hope to sleep, if there is still time to.

There was no time to sleep, because why would there be?

Two hours later, Friday woke everyone up, alerting them of a sudden new mission. During their chase of finding Odera and the Intel from the HYRDA base in Alaska, they were making discovery of a group of ex-HYRDA workers and soldiers trying to carry out their mission. They have been reforming in an abandoned nuclear power plant, the Armstrong Power Plant in Pennsylvania.

HYRDA and a power plant? Yeah, hell no.

Everyone’s groggy attitude quickly shifted when they learned it was a power plant, and suited up, including Bucky and Peter. Peter just started his winter break for the fall semester and Bucky got cleared to aid in missions, ops and everything related to the Avengers.

It was one of those ‘all hands on deck’ mission.

The roar of the Quinjet sounded over the Compound as they made way to rural Pennsylvania and in hopes of stopping HYDRA.

If only they knew the outcome of this mission.

Fours teams of two.

Half a dozen buildings and a forest on the other side of the river.

Just another mission for the Avengers.

Clint with Sam and Vision with Wanda were scouting and surveying the office buildings. Steve and Natasha were entering the furnace rooms while Bucky and Peter were finding their way to the control room. He was a little antsy getting paired with Peter. The kid was smart and strong enough to stop a titanium arm, but he was still young. Bucky worried that the scourge of his past would taint or wear off on him somehow.

Peter climbed the walls as Bucky carefully advanced deeper into the control room. There were different smaller rooms or storage closets but once they got into the main room, one of the consoles were blinking. It was layout of the power plant and the different buildings. There was a beeping light over the building labeled “BOILER HOUSE”.

“Steve, got something.” Bucky spoke over the comms.

“What is it?”

“Got a console over here, blinking light over the boiler room.”

“Sam, anything on Redwing?” Steve asked. Outside, Sam took flight and recalled his bird, flying overhead where it was last surveying.

“Got some signatures in one of the rooms, whole lotta them too, Cap.”

Steve acknowledged this and ordered everyone to circle the building. Steve and Natasha would be the ones entering and confronting this HYRDA group.

Slipping in, they noticed the new age technology and crates of weapons. Further in they see a group of people in a circle. Some are in tactical gear, with HYRDA symbols on them. other were in civilian clothing and blue-collar uniforms. They were all paying attention to a man in the middle of the group, stands by on an elevated platform.

“…we are nearly there, my brothers and sisters, we will ascend to power like before and will will give the world the true freedom it deserves.”

Brothers and sisters? ascension?

Steve and Natasha have each other a look, wondering if the other person had a clue on what this man was saying.

Advancing slightly towards the group, Steve catches one of theses people’s faces, a woman. Her face looks almost hallowed but with determination in her eyes. She was in civilian clothes and hair up in a bun, she looked like a mom. Still, there was something off about her.

Then he noticed the man in tactical gear standing next to her. He looked taller than the average man, eerie similar build to Steve. He had armor plating along his legs, arms, and his chest. But there was something on his chest plate, it looked like, mucus?

It looked green and yellow. A resemblance to fungus. A few spores can be seen around him, bright like dragonflies and orbited around his upperbody.

Steve’s gaze falters a bit when Natasha points out another man in tactical gear, then another, and another, and another. All the ones in gear had this, infection, on them somewhere.

One had it on his back, another had it on his right leg and spread to look like thorns, there was even one where his face was plagued by this.

“The Giver has foretold this, through me. I will lead us to glorious power and and into our grand design of this world. I have seen the end of the Avengers and all who rally under them. I saw many visions, thousand possibilities, and only one must strike true!”

Within the group, a few mutter and even growl in agreement. This man sounded crazed, speaking like some sort of prophet. The duo move in closer.

Then suddenly, an alarm goes off in the boiler room. A few rushes towards different consoles and monitors, all the while the man barks out an order in frustration.

“They are here! The Avengers! It was foretold by the Giver! Recommend the boilers, whatever they refine will be their last. Set the charges, the Avengers will meet their fate tonight!”

The group disbands but Steve has already volleyed his shield to knock out at least three of them.

Steve and Natasha walk out the shadows and into the light, where they get a close look at this alleged leaders of these HYRDA members.

He looked like he was in his late 20s. A decent stubble as formed on his face. He had a combination of tactical gear and clothing made for freezing temperatures. His eyes irises were a green, almost like bile shade of color. That’s when they noticed his right arm; it was covered in this strange mucus-fungi like the others. His was the most severe because his fingers have morphed into three digits and looked like claws. Spores were floating near the arm and this fungi was spreading up to the shoulders.

“Ahhh the Captain and Widow show themselves! Are you trying to interfere with what cannot be changed?” The man challenged.

“Stand down.” Steve ordered, the ones with the fungi appearance started to fan out. Nat’s hands hovered over her batons.

“Why? How will you compel me if I refuse?” The man wondered, a low chuckle to question the Captain’s authority. In response, he tightened the shield on his forearm and Nat readied her weapons.

The man smirks as he raises his hand, forming a fist with his deformed arm and fingers. His arm starts bleeding a liquid from the many holes and openings in his arm. The liquid then hardened and coagulated into a ball of this strange matter, and threw it to the Natasha.

Quick thinking, Steve sidestepped and raised his shield. Expecting some sort of squishy sound or a rock cracking open, he instead got electric currents running through his arm.

Natasha launched projectiles from her Widow Bites; only for them to to miss as the man evades them.

“The others are outside, show them the fruitfulness of foresight!” The man barked out as he and a man wearing tac gear touched by this fungi left through another entrance. The remaining ones started rushing towards Steve and Nat, while the comms started buzzing with surprised chatter and gunfire.

The other reality offered stillness and void of meaning. Something Odera needed right now.

No sounds, no people, just deafening silence.

He feels that thing clawing at him, trying to break free. His eyes feel sunken and heavy as he walks aimlessly in the greyscale Compound. Despite not being in the same material plane as the Compound, he can still feel a tether of life, the people training to be agents of SHIELD, the many scientists and engineers and doctors on site working and researching.

He takes his usual routine throughout the Compound. Hands in his pockets and walking at a slower pace then normal. He needed to calm his mind, or soul, or whatever the hell needed to keep that thing at bay.

He knows he can’t keep living like this, at war with himself. It’s only been three months yet it feels like forever. Its unbearable.

The rush of seeing blood, the yearning of commanding those shadow creatures and soldiers. He still feels them, but something is off, some are rejecting his will.

No, not Odera’s will, the thing’s will. It’s indomitable, overwhelming, unsatiated will.

He has to find a way to rid himself of this entity, this War God in him. Either through Wanda’s abilities or ending his own life to stop this thing.

He’s phases through the walls till he ends up in to living room. It’s been a few hours since he’s seen anyone after his little…panic attack. He remembers only some moments. He remembers waking up from another nightmare, shocker. He checked and saw it was 11:47, he decided to take a lap in the building, trying to make himself tired and sleepy. He knew no one else would be awake, but he has seen Bucky in the kitchen sometimes. He would either be in the kitchen or living room with only a lamp on.

He would just…just be. Either leaning against the counter with his head back or on the couch with his hands clasped together like he was deep in thought. Either way, Odera has avoided him, he thinks Barnes hates him. Given that Odera refuses to call him Bucky because name Bucky felt ‘personal’.

And they ain’t personal with each other.

So Barnes will do, forever

But tonight, he didn’t encounter Bucky. So Odera walked around, he even dared to wear not wear socks or sweats. He needed to feel the cold of the Compound hit his legs, flesh and rock, so shorts and a shirt did it for the trick.

Then after that, it was nothing, then a raging storm, then fire, then he saw Steve and Bucky readying for a fight with the War God.

He felt too many things. Embarrassed, weak, ashamed, unworthy. So he did what he does best.

He hid, and he hid well. The War God, surprisingly cannot reach him when he’s in this plane. Only in the material plane can he feel the god’s voice and violent thoughts and tendencies.

Slumber crepes in slowly so Odera decides it time to crawl out the shadows, literally, and head to bed. Thankfully he can just pop out anywhere since the room is fully enveloped in darkness. He slips from the kitchen island and catches the time on the microwave.

3:17AM

‘Damn, really?’

He shifts to walk to the hall that leads to his room.

BELOVED FATEBREAKER.

THE FOURTH INTELLECT REACHES TO YOUR MIND UNCALIBRATED BUT STILL CONNECTED TO NINE PERHILONS.

IN THE GRIEF OF III, THE FOURTH INTELLECT WILL TEND THE SAPIENT LIFE AND CRUST OF MY SISTER.

Odera body stiffens briefly before dropping to a knee weakly, pulse of shadow and comic energy erupt from the impact. He feels his entire body shake and twitch as IV’s words suddenly appear in his head.

‘How? How am I still hearing your thoughts?!’

FREEDOM YOU ACHIEVED YET YOU ARE STILL BOUND TO US.

OUR VOTE SCHEDULED SOON, SELECTED SAPIENTS WILL FALL LIKE III, INTERVENTION REQUIRED.

Pain erupts in his left eye, though he dares not to make a sound. He sees down the valley of time. He sees a silo, along a river and forest. He sees…the Quinjet.

‘The hell?’

Glimpses of life and death flash in his left eye as the silo and buildings around it burst into flames of green. Then an outline of a man appears. His head gets chopped up and he dissolves. Before three more of the same man appear. Then there heads get chopped and three more appear in there place.

‘No…’

LIVE UP TO YOUR TITLE. PREVENT THIS.

NO LONGER EMISSARY, I STILL CARE FOR YOU.

GO FOURTH, FATEBREAKER. CORRECT NINE ERROR AND FORGE YOUR OWN FATE.

Silence, his head is filled with silence. And terror.

‘The Avengers…Peter…No!’

He rushes to where the Compound keeps their spare and extra clothing and gear. He grabs tactical boots, pants, and a belt. He zips shadow from shadow to building to building. He grabs his notebook and quickly scrambles broken sentences onto and points it at a camera. Bruce said if he needed something from Friday, simply raise a piece of paper or his phone with what he wants to say a man she’ll respond.

And he praying she’s seeing this.

“Avengers in trouble”

“Need to get to them quickly”

“What do you mean, Odera?” the AI’s voice raises from overhead. He quickly scrambles more words and shows the camera.

“Was shown right now”

“Friendly nine is helping”

“Please”

A few seconds of silence before Friday simply says something, and Odera phases into a shadow and sprints across the whole Compound.

“Hanger 2, I’ll pilot the jet.”

There was more soldiers outside the boiler room, enough to occupy all of them. Steve and Natasha are busy dealing with the group inside, while the rest were flaking and avoiding fire. More of these fungi-infested people were present and were the only ones without any firearms. One was charging Wanda when air rushed by her and a shock arrow made purchase in his knee, making the man collapse in position.

“Anyone got eyes on their leader?” Steve said mid-shield throw, ricocheting off the furnace in the boiler room and hitting someone directly in the chest.

“There is someone running towards the silos outside!” Vision informed the Captain while dodging midair before getting struck down by something. His shout of pain made Wanda turn her head to see him diving into the concrete below. She gliding towards him before she too got blast off from the air, not as much as Vision but still got grounded.

She rolls on the ground before stopping her self. Then, the sounds of heavy machinery and mechanical noises fill her ears as she lays her eyes on a giant machine stomping towards her.

It had three rows of five orange circles that serve as its eyes. It only had one arm cannon and another attached to his shoulder,though it seems inactive for now. the machine looked like it made out of scarp but yet looked like it was made in a factory. It let out a mechanical sound, almost sounded like it was talking, before it plants it feet and the aims for her.

Another rush of air flies by her when two explosive-tipped arrows hit the machine and a burst of bullets from a swooping Falcon.

“Since when did HYRDA have the budget for mechs now?” Sam screamed into the comms as he flies down to Wanda, trying to help back on her feet and tackle this new addition to their mission.

The machine lets out another sound before a sudden piece of it pops out, charged with electricity, and slams back into it, releasing an electromagnetic pulse almost through the whole plant. It motions its arm in some sort of fashion before it shoots out three projectiles in rapid succession towards Wanda and Sam. Red energy forms a wall in front of them as Vision lands next to them, recovered from his fall, along with Bucky and Peter.

More soldiers appear from a nearby building and started firing at them once more. They all rush to the building behind them as shelter and cover. During all of this, static was screaming in their ears from Steve and…Friday?

trying to decipher what they were saying, the ground started trembling beneath them.

“Aw, that ain’t good.” Sam says

“You think?” Bucky replied annoyed. Both glared at each like they wanted to kill each other before Clint informs them of an another Quinjet flying above them. They all rush to the window to see him telling the truth, a Quinjet was flying overhead and low. This caught the HYRDA soldiers and mech’s attention and they redirected their fire at the aerial vehicle. Something was off about the jet though.

The voice of the AI is coming through a bit more clearer but still broken up by static. Sam tries to speak through the comms once again. “Friday, you better tell me you’re piloting that bird.” Her voice manages to come through.

“I am…gent Wilson. I’m…ing backup.” Sam jerks his head back in confusion as now Steve’s voice comes through, confused with that soldier tone.

“What do you mean ‘backup’?”

Wanda and Peter both peaked outside between the cracks of the building to see someone jump off the Quinjet before it sends out flares. The night sky erupts in orange and white but not bright enough to cast light onto whoever the hell just jumped from the jet.

The person goes into a diving position, the soldiers trying to shoot them out of the sky. They alarming miss all their shoots but to Bucky and Peter’s enhanced eye sight, at least eight of them should’ve hit the person.

The person curls into a ball and spins, swirls of energy form around them before they uncurl and send out a crescent shaped wave of energy to the ground. The soldiers fly back, even the mech stumbles back. The strike send out gust of air and dirt into the air. Chattering of surprised soldiers fill the air as they bark out curses and questions into the air.

When the dust settles, soldiers and machine point their weapons at the stranger. When there vision uncluttered from dust and debris, the Avengers freeze in place as they see Odera standing, they know it’s him because of his eye. Jaws drop in horror as a few scared gasps leave from some mouths. They don’t even know if he has on an earpiece, trying to tell him to stand down.

All they can do is watch as the soldiers start firing at him before a wall of black ice shoots up in front of him. They kept on firing and even the machine shoots once to completely shatter the wall. The soldiers start talking to each other, one was repeatedly saying “where the fuck did he go?” as he and the others look around, rifles swinging in all directions when he reappears again, a staff in his hands. he slams the ground with the staff, sending out energy of Umbra to stun and temporarily blind them. Before he continues, he flicks his wrist towards the machine and brings it down. The machine charges up its cannon before chains of shadow coming up from the ground and tangle it.

The Avengers stood watch as the machine struggles to free itself as Odera makes quick work of the soldiers. He isn’t killing them, despite the pressure of doing so, but he wasn’t exactly going soft on these guys. The blunt ends of the staff go from bone to bone as he takes on multiple people at once.

“No way in hell we’re just going to stand here and just watch,right?” Clint’s question pulled everyone back to reality. That got them to move. They rush into the open, Sam and Vision take flight as the rest run. Peter shoots two webs out and turns himself into a human torpedo while Wanda lifts herself the ground and glide.

Despite all this, Bucky is the first one there. A soldier was about to stab Odera in the back before a viberanium arm grabs hold of his collar and throws him back, Wanda blasting the soldier’s to the ground. The yelp of the soldier's yelp made him turn around to see Bucky’s swinging at approaching enemies. That’s when he sees Peter, Wanda, Sam, Clint and Vision joining in on the fight. Relief washes over him, then panic.

'Where the hell is Steve and Natasha?'

‘MORE TITHES, MORE TRIBUTES. HEIR-PRESUMPTIVE, TURN THIS FIELD OF FLESH AND METAL INTO A OFFERING.’

His eyes darted to the ground, eyes shut as he mentally fights off this words of the sick creature before a gloved hand clasps him hard, making him jump a little.

“Kid, what the hell are you doing here?” Bucky questioned. The rest gather around; Odera looks around to lock eyes with Peter and quickly gestures to his head.

“Nine intervention…showed me that outcome of this mission…death.” His words are unfocused and almost cryptic.

“Death? You mean someone is going to die?” Peter repeated the last word. They look to Peter, then to Odera, just for him to shake his head in disagreement.

He moves his index finger in a circle.

Not "someone is going to die".

All of them were going to die.

None of them had time to properly digest this shocking news when the ground beneath shook and the sound of mechanical wiring and machinery amplified. The mech has broken free from its ensnarement and dropped to the ground. Before anyone could ready their weapons, both swirls of crimson energy and black shadows were launched towards it. Chaotic missiles from Wanda and a storm of spikes and needles were volleyed out of Odera’s right arm.

The mech stumbles back before a part of it explodes off and sends off shrapnel in all directions. The inside of the mech is exposed, revealing its bright orange core of parts and components. It lets a mechanic sound that almost sounds like a roar before it suddenly jumps up and has active thrusters on its backside. The inactive shoulder cannon now sounds to life when it shifts down and takes aim at them. The barrel heating up to a shade of greens and fires a beam towards them.

They all brace for this attack when a dome of Umbra encases them. They all look to see Odera planted to the ground and his arms fully extend to his sides. His hands and fingers twitch as he keeps the dome up. The mech is still firing its beam when Wanda extends her hands to grab a piece of the nearby building and make it collapse onto the contraption of scrap and metal.

The small victory is followed with heavy breathing and dust engulfing the now fallen mech. That’s when the team see Odera in tactical gear for the first time. It eerie suits him. Brown boot, grey tac pants and a brown bomber jacket,somewhat zipped up. No gloves or vest on, though, they could help with grip.

Three distinctive shakes of the ground made everyone take quick scans of the area to see more of these mechs just landed from somewhere. One by one, the machines stand at full height at start jogging towards the group. Odera quickly grabbed a hold on Sam and made him turn to see him.

“Where is…Steve and Natasha?” His eyes showed his worries, and Sam saw it.

“They were heading to the main silo. Go, we’ll hold these things off!” They both turned to see the rapid march of metal advancing. Wanda readies her hands as Clint and Bucky reload, or nock, their weapons.

As a parting gift. Odera rushes to the front of he group and raises his right arm. Ice and shadow quickly covers the limb. The sound of whispers and cracking roars when he slam his fist down, causing a wave of ice shards and spikes to form going towards the mech directly infront of them. The sound of metal scraping against ice and gears malfunctioning to properly move is heard as it becomes partly encased.

He looks back to see some of the Avengers nod, a way of saying, “we got this”. With that signal, he turns back and dives to the ground as a shadow puddle forms, inviting him to the other plane of existence as he runs towards the silos.

The leader of this HYRDA splinter group was nearing the silos along with one another, a woman who wore tactical gear and this new strange infection that covered the majority of her left side.

“Are you sure this plan will work?” She questioned her leader. The look of determination and confidence rose over his face as they entered the small building connected to the silos and the large chimney-like structure.

“It will. The Giver has blessed me with the tools to do so. We will achieve our victory here and now!” His tone was a mixture of offend and anger. He approaches a laptop hooked up to a strange device, to where it is also hooked up to the entire system of the old power plant.

“We are fated to such a grand design just as much as the Avengers are fated to die by our hand.”

He flips a few levers and initiates something on the laptop, then the device starts blinking orange with crackles of electricity flying around it. An electric current running down the cable it’s connected. And then a countdown pops up on the screen.

Five minutes. How cliché.

The sound of rushing air and metal fills the room as the leader and woman are hit by something. Turning around, there met with Steve and Natasha.

“What’s with the countdown?” Steve, essentially ordering the leader to answer him. In response, he gets a laugh from him.

“It is the minutes you have left before you bear witness to our glorious ascension.” He says after his gesture of amusement.

Both the leader and woman charge at them. The leader versus Steve, the woman versus Nat.

Natasha is using her batons against the woman, who is shockingly tall. She goes from offense to defense, countering the woman’s attacks. She has no solid pattern, just fists. That is, until her she motions her left arm and it transform into an arm blade.

Natasha is taken back before having to now fully dodge her opponent. She tries to block one attack, only for the arm blade to sink into her batons, and get yanked off her grip as the woman pulls back her arm fiercely.

Steve, on the other hand, is somewhat matched with his opponent. They block eachother incoming attacks, Steve is the only one where his hits land on occasion. One strike made the leader stumble back, a dazed look and a bloody nose covers his face as he yells in anger. He goes for more punches when his deformed arm turns into a club-like weapon. He bashes and bashes the shield, trying to make the Captain falter and force him to make an opening for him to strike.

Right before he slams down his weapon, Steve took the opportunity to raise his shield up, deflecting the club, and shield punch the leader's chest.

“I am…gent Wilson. I’m…ing backup.”

It was Friday’s voice. Saying she’s dropping…backup?

Confuse falls onto the Captain’s face as he raises a hand to active his ear piece.

"What do you mean backup?” He inquires to the intelligence, all gets is silence and static that was filling his ear during his fight.

The leader tackles the unfocused Captain as he raises his arm again. His arm goes from a club to a spike instantly. Seuss go wide and mouth opens in panic. Out of nowhere, Natasha tackles the leader off him as she kicks him away from Steve.

A angered expression is plaster on her face. Steve gets up and notices the woman she was fighting is now laying on the ground, motionless but twitches a few seconds. He questions what happened.

“She broke my sticks.” She responds, vexed that she lost her weapon. Then Steve sees that her widow bites are active.

Oh.

Steve huffs. “Least there’s one less thing to worry about.” His gaze falls back onto the leader as he weakly gets up. They engage in a fight that only last for a minute, before a projectile strikes the leader’s back and sends him flying straight to the building.

Steve and Natasha pause at the sight of this. The projectile came from behind him. They look back to what hit him with such force, only for their eyes to fall on Odera dressed in tactical gear. Brows twitch as they continue to look at him. No one speaks.

Odera suddenly turns into smoke as he reappears in the middle of the two, somewhat ahead of them. His focus was on the leader.

Weaker than before, the leader gets back up. When at full height, he steps back a few at the sight of him.

“You! Deathless, you dare show your face to me?!”

Steve and Nat share a look between themselves at the mention of deathless. In their own minds, they form the same thought as each other.

‘Who the hell is deathless?’

“Why have you come, hm? I have seen glimpses of your actions, your words brought destruction to those who heed them. Giver-sight has shown me how you were prophesized to be a Weapon-Emissary. Yet, you denied your truth!”

Odera’s eyes narrows down onto him. A fist clenched as energy coils his arm.

“I have seen it all, Deathless. I am fated to flay in the shadow of the Giver, as you are fated to die by my hand. Face me, Weapon of the Nine!”

It felt like taking a deep breath, through the mouth. A slight tremor on his bottom lip. He sees…

He sees….

HE SEES A DEATH TITHE RIPE FOR THE TAKING. IF HE SEEKS A CHALLENGE HE SHALL HAVE IT.

Natasha and Steve couldn’t see Odera’s face turn on into rage, brows furrow in anger and his teeth bare like an animal. All they see is his back muscles and shoulders move and flex bro he darts to the leader, and he does the same.

The leader’s mutated arm goes from a slimey appearance to hardened amber as he charges him. At the last second, Odera drops to a slide and summons a sword, slashing the stomach.

The leader halts at the newfound pain. A gasp leaves his mouth and before he can make a move, sharp pain erupts from his shoulder as a blade penetrates it. The arm becomes separated from the body as the blade slices through the stomach again, then it finds its way to the other arm, a messy and jagged cut right through it.

The leader only screams as this happens in quick, rushed, brutally succession. Blood squirts out where his arms should be. His stomach is craved open as his legs are barely holding him up. He screams one last time before he feels wet metal in his mouth and hair. His eyes immediately shoot up and twitch as the duo Avengers see the tip of the blade and a few inches of it coming out his gaping mouth. Blood drops from it like a leaky faucet in a cheap apartment.

His chest and neck jolts slightly before the sound of bones breaking is heard. The head is ripped off his body, portion of his spine comes with it. The headless body gets kicked down as Odera slowly brings the sword down to eye level.

His chest raises and falls, air rushes out his nose as he exhaled heavily. His eyes examine the blade and its new ornament. Blood is still flowing down the blade to the hilt, as a few droplets hit the concrete and his boots.

‘SAVOR THIS, LIVE WITH THIS, BECOME THIS.’

Odera chokes back a sob. He didn’t want this. This wasn’t him. He doesn’t hear the voice of Steve calling out to him. He also doesn’t hear the sound of multiple footsteps coming to earshot before quickly halting, nor does he hear Wanda’s gasp.

They slowly approach him, they fan out a few inches from each other. Odera is still glued looking at the head. The dilated pupils, the shock expression left on the face, the tip of the blade shine where blood doesn’t cover it.

The sword quickly dissolves to shadow as he blinks, taking in the air is body needed. The thud of the head brings him out of it. His eyes go the people in front of him. And he doesn’t like what he sees.

Clint has an arrow nocked in his bow, but doesn’t take aim.

Bucky and Nat have their pistols aimed down to the floor but their finger hangs above the trigger.

Wanda has her hands poised but at her sides.

But they all have that look on them. One that says, “we don’t want to do this, but we will if we have to.”

Even Peter shares this. Behind worried eyes.

Odera’s bottom lips shakes and eyes begin to fill with tears.

“Kid, you better have a damn explanation for all for these.” Natasha voice wasn’t angry but she was certainly was pissed. Odera shuts down. His eyes dart to the ground, he tenses his shoulders as he feels something wrong with…everything in him.

He feels the dirt under his nails and it’s bugging him bad.

The way his right sock hugs wrongly on his leg, bundling fabric and material that feels weird and incorrect.

Then when he jerks his head to the building and his face drops in horror.

He brings his arm up as explosions begin happening around them. The smell of gunpowder and metal overflows their senses. The rushing air as chunks of buildings and concrete fly. They all brace last minute, expecting to flying in all directions. Instead, the Avenger are still on the ground, still standing, still breathing. A dome of shadow has formed around them. All eyes land on Odera where strands of Umbra is flowing out his body that form the dome.

The explosion happen for a few seconds before the sound of groaning stone and metal is over above them. The main silo of this power plant, the large chimney, was crashing down and they were in the way.

A risky idea comes to Odera mind. One that could go very well or very shit.

He channels the energy the forms the dome in on hand, while the other swirls in circular motion to the floor. The concrete below turns to black with white cracks as the dome slams down on them. A few second later and they would’ve been under stone, metal, and six feet under.

Outside the fence, the dome abruptly appears and collapses, revealing the team of Avengers and a exhausted Odera. They look around in their new setting to see a new Quinjet landed to replace the one that got destroyed, a power plant now demolished and energy flowing back into Odera has he staggers.

He feels something familiar, tugging at him. Tugging at his mind. Out of nowhere, he feels enlightenment and curiosity. He remembers this feeling. He doesn’t like what comes after this, he never has, but if they wanted to talk now…

…he will oblige.

He chokes on nothing as his head suddenly jolts up at an upward angle. His hands drop to his side and open. A blue shimmer covers him as his brown eye turns to the same shade of blue as his left, and pupils dilate wide.

YOUR CAPTURED AUDIENCE ASSEMBLES

The Avengers all freeze in place as they hear Odera talk for the first time in months, but was it really him? Blue mist appears over his head as a white symbol comes to shape. His tone sounds like a commander of some sorts, sharp, disciplined and powerful.

Invitation - to notarize return - come back to us - Emissary

A new symbol takes over as his voice goes to almost robotic like, no emotions just speaking.

S P E A K W H A T 2 H A V E S P O K E N

another symbol, another shift in tone.

.nice of y|ou to ans.wer, quit|ter.

.we all ha|ve els.e things| to b|e. .but only o|ne right |now.

Another new symbol and tone but it hasn’t changed, meaning the…thing,is still speaking. This one sounds creepy and fake, like putting on a show. It gestures like a puppet and expresses Odera’s face uncanny like.

I ho|ld the ves|sel.

.this quit|ter is a |out|cast. |but still conne|cted and use|ful.

Odera exaggerates his eyes and mouth when he speaks, like someone in a play.

.doll you are the |weapon| we chose by ri|te and trial.

.by our des|ign you we|re meant to some|thing more. .something gr|and.

.does every|one present he|re el|ect this cont|tract. .aye or n|ay.

Odera’s body jerks to the side as a symbol from before reappears above him, before switching back.

D E N I A L

.mmmm. .pre|dict|able. .m|y vote is a|ye. .|obviously|.

His body jerks again as a new symbol shows up. His tone goes from unsettling to almost sophisticated.

Emissary requirement = denial weaponized meat bag =confirmed

Body jerks as a new symbol and a new tone come up. He sounds angry when he speaks, spit even flies out at one point.

BECOME THIS ONE MORE AND SUSTAIN US YOU WILL SUSTAIN US. VI ACCEPTS.

And again

yea + unsheathe the weapon + but empty-seated + not required + nay to the emissary

Stupid - to ignore threats - Arm ourselves - We will never - move without our messenger - Aye to all

The Avengers stand and do nothing as this all happens. The way he jerks his body as a new member speaks through him, the sudden change and adaptiveness to tone and body language. It’s unsettling.

It’s not that they didn’t want to do anything. It was just the matter of what can they do. Do they interfere and pull him out of this? If interfere, will Odera get hurt or worse?

COMPLETELY INSULTED REFUSAL TO ALL.

Ridiculous, Six. We are at war. One cast our vote in the affirmative.

.this cou|ncil sees the |weapon| loo|se.

.but sta|ands unmo|ved to rat|ify him a|s emiss|ary.

.you got |lucky|.

This returning voice sounded and looked pissed, at the conclusion of this “council”. The voice talks to itself as it comes up with something, making it clear that this was the head of the group. They rambling nonsense before they stop talking and eyes go up in shock and excitement, followed up by a chuckle that a psychopath would use.

.i have a gr|eat idea. .he i|s already us|ed to being a wea|pon.

Odera’s possessed body sways to turn in a inhuman way, like a zombie in a video game. He turns until he faces someone in the group, the person that the person had in mind.

Готов подчиниться, солдат?

Odera's face twists to have a hollowed smile, teeth sowing and everything. Dilate eyes bury deep into Bucky’s. The look of hurt on his face. He was just started to like Odera, but hearing say those words? He knew it wasn’t really him, which makes it worse.

Bucky knew the words have no effect on him anymore, but is it enough to stop a group of space gods that control time and space?

A large crash booms nearby as something familiar drops near them.

It was the thing that killed Pietro back in Wakanda. Its body now has a weird texture flowing beneath its skin. It raises from its crouched position and twirls its glaive in hand. It’s has its sights on person and one person only.

Bucky

And it charges at him. He puts a few bullets into it but they do nothing. In the background, shadow walkers have jumped from the shadows and attack the Avengers, only one for each. The creature nears him as he braces the spear only to shoved out the way by someone.

Ignoring the hard hit to the ground, he looks back up to see the creature’s hand wrapped around Odera’s neck. He struggles a bit before raising a pistol, the one Bucky was holding, now charged with his powers and shoots the creature into its rectangular shaped head.

It yelps as its head recoils back, before it chuckles dangerously and turns its head back to him, small white lighting appears where the bullet went through. The creature quickly shifts arms he it grunts angrily.

Bucky’s eyes go up in horror. Odera tries to move his legs and arms. He even lets out a few gasps, the first time Bucky has heard noise come out his mouth. He moves his legs like he’s on a bicycle, trying to get away from the blade that’s going through his chest and small chucks of black ice forming around the wound.

One last kick of his legs before he goes limp, and the pistol drops from her fingers. Peter is heard screaming as the creature turns around and slams its weapon down, along with Odera’s body, head hitting the concrete hard.

It runs off with him as it pants heavily and laughs. It has heading right for the river. Wanda jets to the air after it but it was much faster her.

It was fast enough to halt at the edge of land and grab Odera’s motionless body and throw into the water, before it sinks to the ground, laughing.

Wanda sends out flares of her powers to grab him out of the water and back to land, all the while everyone boards the jet and buckles up to takeoff.

Hoping to save him, despite that he was already gone.

At least Wanda got her wish granted.

Chapter Text

2017, Somewhere at the edge of Sol

The Emissary glides over strange terrain, black sands that shine like diamonds. A ocean of indigo clashes with it, an unending storm rages in the distance, the tides retreat at the roar of thunder and dark clouds.

Somewhere on Neptune, a great power will land and embed itself deep in its mantle. When humanity falls, because it will, they will look to the stars for an answer and a home. They will be met with the very thing that brings the Collapse of humanity. Starships with millions on board will die, trying to reach the many moons and planets of Sol.

All except one starship will outrun the end. They will land on Neptune and thrive under its storm and clouds. They will evolve into something new.

Despite that the Eighth Intellect resides here on Neptune, all were present and communed with the Emissary.

“Do you regret this?”

“What?”

“This.”

“I have more agency as this then I ever had when I was alive.”

“You lost everything.”

“Nothing that ever mattered. All I wanted was to see those two again.”

“We don’t understand.”

“No.”

The Emissary peers through the valley of time. A ancient evil, the same one that nearly ended humanity, will send a legion of mindless puppets to retrieve this great power. And they will achieve that goal.

And the Emissary will be here when it happens.

To witness the end, again and again.

December 2018, Present day

Sam ransacks through the medical supplies, trying to find more gauze; Wanda’s fingers dance and weave as she too tries to control the bleeding.

Steve and Clint are the ones piloting and alerting the Compound for medics to be on stand-by.

Natasha, Bucky, Peter, and Vision were just watching all this unfold.

“Wanda, how we lookin?” Sam requesting an update as he applies new strips of gauze.

“He’s slipping but he’s fighting it off. His thoughts are…are…” she tries not to cry when she reads his mind.

PASSION AND PARADOX…AID THE VISION…RESENT THE JOKE…GLIMPSE THE CHASM…ROT IN ENTROPY…THE GARDEN BLOOMS IN ALL DIRECTIONS…BOUND BY LOGIC…TOOLS OF THE GARDENER

“…I don’t know if it’s him or if it was…those things-“

“Hey!…he will pull through.” Sam breaks between her speaking. Between Peter’s soft but messy crying and the sounds of blood-soaked gauze strips dropping to the ground because of turbulence, Bucky just looks at him.

He can hear a heartbeat but it’s very faint, too faint to even beat. His chest isn’t even rising or falling. He’s just…still. His left eye still maintains the glow, another indication that’s he’s still alive, but just barely.

The frost that the blade left has already dissolved from him, but his chest is so cold.

Bucky stopped praying, long before HYRDA and even before the war even started.

But right now, he whispers one in his head.

Because if Odera does die, then he dies thinking Bucky hates him…

He prays to God that won’t happen.

They land on the pad outside, the stone path leading directly to the Avengers’ building; four medical personnel are there with a stretcher ready, including Dr. Banner.

All he sees is Steve carry a motionless Odera in his arms he as rushes to place him on the stretcher, the rest trailing behind with the same look of worry and fear.

“What the hell? He was with you guys? Why was he with-“

“He saved us…” Steve cut off the barrage of questions the doctor was ready to sound off. He looked both like a soldier and a friend, a scared, disappointed friend.

Not disappointed at Odera, No. At himself.

They all rush to the medical wing of the Compound where an operating room has been prepared and ready for him in advance. The quiet halls of the wing were interesting by wheels and many footsteps. Another doctor and a few nurses were approaching the body to examine what they can up front, when small blades of shadow hurricanes around his body.

Gasps and yelps echoed the hall, a nurse even got a few cuts in her arms. Everyone covered their faces and when the blades disappeared in the air, Banner slowly approached his body. He grabbed Odera’s wrist and waited a few seconds, testing something out. He called for the doctor that was planning on doing his surgery over, slowly but not to slowly.

That’s when Bruce catches it. A rumbling-like effect is sweeping out of his body. He scans the body, eyes widening a little.

His body was protecting itself.

Banner motions the other doctor and nurses to come closer.

“Odera? Can you hear me? These people are trying to help you.”

The effect grows stronger. Breathes are hold at the sight.

“They won’t hurt you. I’ll be watching, and so will the rest of the team, right?” He looks towards the team and emphasizes his brows and eyes. They all follow along and speak to Odera, to his body, that is.

“We’re right here kiddo.”

“We ain’t leaving your side.”

“You’re strong Odi.”

A faint smile creeps over Bruce’s face at the team’s words and promises. He looks back at Odera’s body to see the rumbling of shadow die down, and retreat back into his body.

He nods to the doctor and he and the nurses make way to the operating room.

Leaving the Avengers stranded in the middle of the hall, not knowing how the next few hours might play out.

No one leaves the waiting room, still wearing their suits caked in sweat, dirt, and tears even.

It was 6:34AM when the hints of Sun spill into the windows of the medical wing, small streaks of gold striking the pattern tiles of the floor.

A few have fallen asleep. Peter was resting his head on Wanda’s shoulder, her laying her head onto his. Clint was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed his chest and head turned left, eyes closed. Sam was fighting off the exhaustion as Nat was leaning against Bucky, just resting her eyes.

Steve was standing, having came back from asking a nurse for updates. He goes to sit across from Bucky when he sees him deep in thoughts, his mind taking over his face.

“You good, Buck?” A somewhat concerned Steve said. Bucky blinks a few times and releases a heavy exhausted-charged sigh.

“The damn kid saved me.” He huffed, not meeting Steve’s eyes. He spoke like he still couldn’t believe it. One second, he was speaking like different people and gestures like different people, the next, he shoves him down and takes a blade directly to the chest meant for him.

“He saved us all, Buck. ” Steve gently reminded him. That got Bucky to finally meet his eyes. Both soldiers softened when they looked to each other, that familiar look since when they were young.

“He saw something none of us have could seen or predict.” Said the Captain. More sunlight fills the area as the sounds of footsteps comes from the hallway. It was Bruce, sleep deprivation spilled all over his face.

“He’s…” he takes a deep breath

“…he’s stable.”

A wave of exhales filled with relief sounds throughout the room. Steve’s soldier perfect posture and appearance crumbles immediately to that of a simple man being told good news after hours of a horrific event.

Wanda and Peter are gently woken up by Clint, their grogginess quickly changes to match the emotions that fall on the rest of the team. A weak smile creeps on both of the younger Avengers.

“They were able to stop the bleeding and suck out all the air that entered his body, and after that… theoretically, he should’ve died on the spot when he got impaled.” The entire team mouths drops a little at the news. Dr Banner continue on about the operation. His aorta was completely sliced, and dotted with fragments of bone from his rib cage. The heart got the worst since the blade when directly through it, the tip barely touching his spine.

He takes another deep breath, and hopes the Avengers believe what he’s about to say next.

“During the surgery. His body…started helping.”

Brows twitch in not understanding what he meant. Natasha asked him what he meant by that. A second to gather the words, he then explained it. After the suctions of getting the internal blood and moving on the repair the heart, it was still a messy site and due to the blade being tipped worth the same ice-like powers Odera can use, the heart was practically frozen. They moved to get some sort of heating device onto his body; then his heart changed appearance into a shadowy mass of frozen blood.

Three seconds go by, curious eyes glued to the now literal black heart. Then the shadow texture swirls inwards and the heart is back to its original colors. Then…

A beat….then another…then another…and another.

The surgeons moved quickly for suctions and repair the now bleeding, beating heart.

After Banner’s explanation, silence falls amongst the team, only breathing bodies and hospital-like ambience fills the room. Two swings doors are flinged open as a doctor in their surgery attire comes out and goes for Bruce. They whisper for a near minute. They exchanged a nod as Bruce turns back to the team.

“He’s out and in a room, but that thing before the surgery is back.” Bruce said. Their minds reminds them of it. The energy that surges out of his body and attacked the doctors and nurses. Not out of violence or anything like that. It was protected him.

“Let’s be safe and only at a time we go in his room. Peter?” Peter’s head shoots up, still fighting off the little piece of sleep his body is still holding on. His eyes align with Bruce’s. “Wanna go see him?” He doesn’t speak, just nods.

Bruce gestures to follow him. And follow he does.

It is now midday. The Avengers have all seen Odera, and his death-like sleep. The second visit, Natasha, she noticed that his body wasn’t moving, more importantly his chest wasn’t rising or falling. All Bruce can offer as that it could’ve been from his powers. Saying, “in this state, his body doesn’t need oxygen like how we need it.”

During the visits, they all said their words and prayers for him to hear, if he can.

“Come back to us soon.” From Wanda

“Punch through it, OD.” From Sam

“You better survive this. Who else am I going to pass down my sweet archery skills?” From Clint

And during these visits, a faint shadow could sweep out of his body and wash over him, like living armor, protecting him if anyone got closer to him. Wanda tried to place a hand over his head, trying to read his mind. Then something dawned on her.

She never felt his thoughts, his emotions, his feelings. Ever since he’s been here, she was never able to read his mind. But after this mission, she can.

And she saw nothing but rage and entropy.

She stayed calm, not wanting to frighten the nurse that was checking him hourly. When he left the room and the medical building, she made haste to the Avenger’s building. By the time she got there, most of them team was on the first floor. Sam, Bucky and Steve were near the kitchen island, Vision and Bruce were looking at a tablet going through some sort of new data, and the rest were else where.

“Where is everyone else?” Wanda, making herself known in the kitchen. The three men all turned their heads to see her; all having that same tired and defeated look on their faces.

“Peter’s in his room and Nat and Clint are sparring.” Steve answered. The blue in his eyes seems to different. No longer that icy shade but instead replaced with one that show how he’s feeling around. Depression blue if you will. As both Captain America and the Captain of this team, the idea of everyone being his responsibility always plagued him. Every injury, doesn’t matter how minute or extreme it is or how it happened, he always felt like it was his fault that it happened. His fault that his teammates get hurt, even from a punch, he blames himself.

Imagine how he’s feeling right now, a death happened under his watch.

“What’s up?” Sam asked, noticing that look on Wanda’s face, like she knows something she isn’t supposed to. She fiddles her fingers briefly, mouth opens but still thinking of the words to say.

“I visited Odera again, and I was able to read his mind.” Seconds pass before Bucky talks, confused at what she meant by that.

“Is that good or bad news?” He said

“Both, I was never able to read his mind until today.” Her tone becomes slightly shaky at the end.

“What did you see?” Steve, wanting to now more. He was now standing properly, noticing that longer leaning on the fridge with his arms crossed. Both Sam and Bucky shift during stances bit.

“I…don’t know, it was so…violent.” Her voice almost goes whisper-like. The men share a look between themselves. “I can project his thoughts out to here, but only when I’m near his body. I think it’s best if everyone was here.”

Steve nods and tells Friday to alert the rest of the team to be at the medical building in the next five minutes.

They all gather around, at the edge of the patient room. Odera’s still body right in center. He’s only hooked to a few machines but the sight is still gut-wrenching.

Wanda is the only one that walks towards him. Shadow mist slowly creeps up his body, feet to head, each step it becomes more spiked and volatile. “I just want to help, all of us do.”

They each nod. The energy that’s protecting him slowly eases up, but still lingers. She moves to his head where it completely dissolves, only leaving his head exposed open while the rest for body is coated in this shadow armor. Hands hover ears, and she closes her eyes, feeling, locating.

Her brows twitch in concentration as the team watches. Her breathing steady as she sends more energy into the surrounding air. Then she finds something, and smoke engulfs them, the hospital-like walls and smell of bleach turns into a blacken walls and void of smell. The ground turns into something like concrete, cracks all over with patches of grass and moss coming out of them.

Each Avenger looks a different direction, trying to spot something and call out. All they see is nothing, only themselves, and a raging storm in the distance. Thunder cracks as it flashes some sort of mass in the center of the storm. A sound is heard to the right of them, a wall of fog and smoke and energy parts in front of them.

The fog clears up to reveal an abandoned city district, overgrown with vegetation, the architecture looks that of a mega city or a city from a sci-fi video game. The Avenger slowly moves between what they can imagine are shops, vendors stands, and apartments. The structures and architectural features were of human design, for sure, but it wasn’t like any current city. All the while, the feeling of peace and tranquility eased it ways into their minds.

They turn to a dead end, a wall of tree bark with green and pink leaves running up it. The previous feeling of tranquil was getting turned into something else, something…strange.

A large crash of concrete and earth happens below their feet as they fall down, the cityscape dwelling from view as they land back in front of…

“When something dies, it begins…anew.”

The Avengers freeze at this voice, that blank, emotionless tone. The voice of the Emissary.

They are suspended in the air, that strange attire of the Nine on them. The Emissary has their back facing the Avengers, looking towards the edge of the cliff they didn’t know they were near.

“The Fatebreaker has lived up to his title. He broke his fate. And now he fights forever, like the others. But now he faces judgment relentlessly. The judgment of war. A dead king clinging to the childish game of violence, now seeks to imprint upon the Fatebreaker. To make him ascend to godhood. A God of War.”

The Emissary finally turns to the Avengers, floating in place. And just as they expected, a blank face with dilated pupils and talking without using their mouth.

“Where is he?” Steve demanded, the soldier in him comes out. All the Emissary does is turn back around and said only one sentence.

“Proving his right to exist.” The Emissary spoke out. They all move closer to the edge, now understanding what they meant. They look down to a field littered with bodies and machines. Right in the middle was Odera, fighting off things a few dozen at a time. They all seen theses things, the shadow creatures and soldiers that they encountered. No longer under his command but the command of something more powerful.

The team watched as he laid waste to the incoming attackers; Odera making quick work on them. His weapon of choice was a glaive, a strange design and appearance glaive. His swings were going straight for the head or slicing limbs in rapid motion, despite the weapon’s length and size, he makes it look like he’s wielding a Bo-Staff. Between switching stands and attackers, he would conjure a spike made from Umbra and throw it to a random opponent.

Peter and Clint tried to go and help, only to be stopped by the words of the Emissary, a warning.

“Do not interfere. He won’t appreciate it.”

He?

They both looked to each other, confusion on their faces, before they looked up to the sky.

Lightning fill the sky as the shadow of a giant creature appears in the sky. To the team, this was just some giant creature in the sky, the clouds making up its body. But to Steve and Bucky, they’ve seen this thing before, standing over Odera in the gym.

“The King…” Steve muttered, he too was looking up at the sky, at the shadow of the king.

“Not a king, a god.” The Emissary corrected him.

His eyes not focused on the Avengers, just on Odera. A gasp from Wanda brought everyone’s attention back down the cliff to see Odera getting surrounded. There was at least 50 of these creatures and soldiers coming down on him. He throws his weapon to the side as he steps back twice and goes for a hand stand, before he performs a starfish Kip-Up.

However, he continues the move, now looking like some sort of freestyle dance move. His legs spins as energy volleys off of him, turning into ribbons of Umbra as they slash and slide through this horde of enemies. He alternates hands, keeping up the momentum. One by one, they began to fall. Some fall almost instantly as some stagger at the pain, only for another deadly ribbon to hit them and drop them to the ground, their bodies immediately going still.

Just as the last few drop, he strikes somewhat a pose, finishing off his tornado of ribbons and shadow. A shockwave pulses from his body as his feet finally touch the ground and he stands before his fallen victims. His chest steadying going up and down, mouth open to take in and release oxygen. The Avengers were close enough to see he was wearing the tactical gear he had during his surprise appearance on their mission. A few strands of hair glued to his forehead, eyes surveying what he has down.

“DO YOU NOW SEE, SOVEREIGN-PRESUMPTIVE. MY LOGIC PROVEN RIGHT. YOU HAVE SHOWN ME THE STRENGTH YOU SHOWED THE NINE.” The booming voice of the King filled the sky. All turned to face the King, all but Emissary, still looking down at Odera.

“YOU WILL TAKE UP MY MANTLE AND BECOME ME. YOU WILL BECOME THE VOICE OF BILLIONS. THEIR WILL SHATTERED AND SHALL BE DIRECTED BY YOUR WORD. TAKE UP MY KNIFE.”

Fire and energy erupts in front of him. A sword suspended in air and in the middle of the flames.

“TAKE UP THE KNIFE. THEY YEARN FOR IT. DO YOU HEAR THEM, KING?” Behind Odera, thousands of shadows manifested. All in a triangle-shaped formation, and Odera was at the time of it. He turns around and he can sense them. Sense all of them. The King was telling the truth. Some were waiting command, to be wielded as a servant. It troubled Odera. Bu then he felt some of them, the ones that didn’t want this. He realizes that there were different species among theses voices, but they all shared one thing in common.

Victims of war. Meaning children, kids, and people who didn’t ask for this. Odera feels their presence. They want to rest, not fight.

His face hardened, eyebrows go low and jaw becomes tight. He turns back around to the King in the sky. One step forward

Then another

And another

Then, his hand goes through the fire, his fingers snake around the hilt of the blade. The sight of flesh burning, skin already peeling and warping to that leathery texture. He doesn’t scream or cry out in pain. He just goes for the sword, grabs it, and pull it out.

He lays the sword flat in his hands, his free hand glides over the blade portion of the weapon. Sharp, honed, forged from battle and tithes. His eyes examine the sword, the texture hilt for a better grip, the few crackles of Umbra that orbit the entirety of it, the strange shape and feel of the blade itself.

He raises the sword above him, like a worshiper presenting an offering to his god, his sick and false god. He can feel the King smile. Despite being in his head, no one can hear what he’s saying. His words of rebellion, rejection and sundering.

The words of a heretic, for good reason.

His expression stays the same when his hands hard grab the sword, blade included. He brings it down as he raises a knee. The blade shatters on impact, fragments and shards litter the floor. All that remains is the hilt and his message to the King.

The King roars in fury and rage. Odera stands unmoved while he beings behind him shutter to in fear.

“HERSEY. HERSEY! ARREST THIS DEFIANCE! YOU DARE SHATTER THE BLADE THAT PIERCED ENTIRE WORLDS? YOU-“

The King grunts and recoils back as something moving at speed of light strikes the side of his head. It ricochets off his cloudy face and hits the ground before it goes back to him. He catches it, a shield similar to the size of Captain’s America, only lacking the star and strips. A shield made up entirely of Umbral energy.

Odera shifts to a stance, shield raised and the hilt of the sword in front of it, energy flows from the hilt as a new blade forms it, more of a human design. he twirls the sword in his hand once and wields it defensively. Unmoved, he stands against a god, in his head, unaware of his audience on the cliff.

The king growls; lightning strikes to emphasizes. He surges to the ground, stopping at least 30 feet above him, and energy gathers in his three eyes. He grunts before beams shoot out of them, aimed straight at Odera.

He plants himself and braces for impact. He only gets pushed back a few inches before his feet are embedded enough to anchor him. The shield reacts to the pressure of the beams, absorbing their energy and storing it. He flips the sword in his other hand to hold it reverse style; fingers tighten around the hilt.

He waits a moment, calculating how to execute his next move. Then, he strikes.

He uppercuts with the sword, sending a crescent slash of energy towards his neck. It makes purchases as the rain of energy halts and the King yelps, The King retracts as a hand goes to his throat and his head leans forward drunkenly. Odera charges his arm to launch the shield and sends it. Another purchased made as it makes contact with the side of the King’s head once more.

Only now, the impact site has lightning crackle and energy flowing upwards before dissipating into the sky. The King…is wounded.

“YOU…REVEL IN APATHY…TO ASSUME MY THRONE.” His voice low and shakes in anger. The sky lights up in streaks of black and blue and white. The outline of the King grows big, a pair of wings expands behind him.

“IN YOUR WAKE…YOU CHOSE HERSEY!” The king roars as a giant cleaver-like sword appears in his hand, and plunges down to penetrate the ground. The ground makes jagged and cracks open.

“YOU ARE UNWORTHY OF MINE LOGIC!” The sword digs deeper into the ground as everything around breaks and shatter and rattles. The Avengers stumble around before Steve tells Wanda to get them out of here. Slight problem.

She can’t.

But the Emissary can.

“Mind your steps! Hesitation will kill you!” The Emissary guides them through the earthquake happening. They all get one last look at Odera as he runs from the chaos. He runs deeper into the forest that surrounds them. The Emissary glides through the air as they navigate the Avengers through the trees and cracking ground.

An opening in the forest, a rift tore open.

They all run towards the rift. Natasha was making her way towards it before a hand grips her wrist, her head jerks back.

“Please don’t abandon us again.” The Emissary spoke, with emotion. Their eyes no longer dilated, blinking like normal but still glowing that Tessarct blue. Their mouth finally opening when they spoke. Natasha’s response is a determined nod as the Emissary lets go of her.

Chapter Text

It’s the week of Christmas. Yet no one is in the Christmas spirit.

It’s been four days since the mission, Tony and Pepper came by the following day, Tony’s jaw tight at Odera’s stubbornness and bravery and Pepper sheds one tear learning he technically “died”.

“Guess I gotta make the kid a suit now.” Tony huffed out, already looking down at a tablet with different types of materials, fabrics and meshes pulled up. His mind races, between Odera and Peter. He can’t shake the feeling that if the roles were reversed. If it was Peter saving the team. If it was Peter getting in front of Bucky and-

He huffs and forces himself to cough, daring not to finish that thought. He proceeds to lock himself in the lab and begin work on Odera’s suit.

The next day, Fury and Hill, including Ross, came by the Compound for their mission debriefing and plans on how to tackle this HYRDA splinter group. Hill noticed it immediately, the absence of him. Before the meeting, she asked where Odera was. The team’s silence gave her the answer. A deep sigh from Hill and Fury.

Ross, not getting the hint, erupted with questions.

“He was with you guys? He’s not even cleared for missions, let alone being alone in public yet! His un-sanctioned and reckless-“

“Reckless?” Bucky immediately shot up a like guard dog at Ross’s poor choice of words. Naturally, Ross shut his mouth and backed up. "He saved the team, and you’re going to say it was reckless?”

Steve got up near him and shot him a look, head shaking gently. Bucky just gave Ross a death stare, before they all funnel into the conference room and begin their mission debrief.

When they get to…that part of the mission, Steve took point. He explained that the leader of this group taunted him and both charged each other for a dual that ended in near seconds when Odera slashed and sliced him with military precision. When the rest of the group rejoined, they slowly approached him and tried to talk to him before a series of explosions went off, where Odera casted a ward of shadows to protect the team, proceeding to teleport everyone to safely shortly after.

Then Steve…paused, unsearched words flying in his mind. That’s where Natasha fills in, sensing the Captain’s struggle to find words.

She simply said that Odera got possessed by the things that once used him. They each spoke through his voice and body one by one. She made an interesting point that when a member would speak, a symbol would appear above his head; she only counted eight. Which raised another question.

Who the hell was missing?

Another question for another day. She then told her superiors about the 7ft creature that appeared along with a small unit of shadow walkers that ambushed them, while the creature gunned it for Bucky. The creature was unsuccessful and Odera got in the way of the Sergeant, which resulted in his death. A blade going through his chest, then getting slammed into the concrete and get dragged until thrown into the nearby river.

The conference room falls silent once again.

“So, where’s his body?” The Director wonder. That’s where Bruce takes over as multiple charts and data emerges onto the table and glass screen, requested by Friday.

The Doctor gave a brief but detailed explanation on what he observed. Although yes, Odera did die, his body was still active. Active as in it was protect him when the surgical team approached his stretcher. He best described it as, “shadowy knifes and fist flying out of him”. That earns him a question look from Fury, raised brows from Hill, and an expression from Ross saying he doesn’t believe it.

Bruce went on to explain how his body helped thaw out his frozen heart and continued to best, despite blood was rushing out of it. And how after the surgery, it helped reattach his body together, no need for sewing him back up and adding stitches at the incision lines.

“So, he’s alive?” Hill asked after Bruce finished speaking.

“Alive but unresponsive, typical after most heart surgery.” He answered. Relief flows through her, unexpectedly but she doesn’t fight it. Ross shifts in his set, a quick glance to his left and he sees a very much still pissed of Bucky Barnes. He looks back to the board and Doctor.

“So what? It’s your guys plan to just wait until he wakes up, if he even wakes up? Why doesn’t she just read his mind?” He points a finger at Wanda where she and some of the other Avengers resist the urge to break said finger.

“I don’t read people’s minds without their permission.” She bites back. She only does that when it gets desperate, and it got desperate scary quick.

“What we can gather and theorize, his body is in a state of limbo. His vitals are fine, it’s just his energy levels can dip drastically and spike upward. The Umbra energy that’s on the surface is consistent moving within him, traveling like smoke." Bruce informed

The debrief ends with additional notes being added as some find their way out of the room. Clint catches a glimpse of Peter, walking slowly away from the room and heading to his room. A light jog to the boy and Clint gently grabs his shoulder. Peter turns, little surprised that it’s Clint out of all people.

“How you holding up, Pete? The Archer asked. He can tell Peter wasn’t doing that well, eyes a little sunken, faint dark circles under them.

“Oh-h, I’m…I actually don’t know.” A slight tremble in his voice where he masked a nervous laugh behind it. “I mean, he’s alive and all but, I just can’t shake what the Nine did to him. It’s just a little….a little too much for me.”

“Hey…” Clint places a comforting hand on his shoulder; eyes landing on each other. “…he may have gone through hell and back, but he’s here now and with us, with his best friend.”

“And hey look, he’s still breathing, which means he’s still fighting whatever the hell we saw in his head. He’s tough. And when he wakes up, he’s gonna need you and me and the rest of team right there. Hell, I’ll use my grapple arrow to drag them.” Now that earns a good laugh from Peter, Clint smiles in triumph.

“Thanks Clint…I might visit him later.” Peter says, a little bit more pep in his voice.

“Alright, but don’t forget we have that thing later today too.” Slight confusion spills over Peter’s face before he remembers what day is.

“Ohhhhhhh that’s today?”

“Yeah, so don’t forget, web-brain.”

As traditions with the Avengers, they ready the Compound with all sorts of supplies.

And a shit ton of squeaky toys. Like, a lot.

Each year, the Avengers have volunteered to bring in shelter dogs for Christmas and New Year’s. They pick a different shelter organization each year, to help bring awareness to them. And each year, money overflows that shelter and pets get adopted to their forever homes. A simple but a very effective way to give back to the people they are protecting.

This year was no different…ish.

A litter of dogs are brought in for the rest of Compound, like for some of the departments and even for some of the training rookies. The Avengers themselves however, all take in one each. This year would be different since they’ll be asking for one more dog to take in. They would ask for two…

But fate had other plans.

The pups would arrive sometime late into the afternoon, before nightfall fully settles in for the day. It was always a surprise for them. No one knows what dog got assigned to them until the minute they get to the Compound. Last year, the team majority had beagles, and did Steve have the time of his life. He sometimes goes to that shelter and check up on them whenever times got tuff for him or when a mission went wrong.

The sound of braking vans on gravel made everyone in the Compound go outside, excited rookies and Avengers gather like child. The sight of a more uplifted Peter made Clint grin like a proud father. Because c’mon, who can be sad when you’re about to receive a dog? Who?!

Employees and handlers all came out of the vans with at least two or three dogs on leashes. Some made their way to the rookies and facility members, the rest made their way to the team. This year’s batch of pups was…interesting.

One Staffodshire Bull-Terrier. Two Golden Retrievers, one sadly only had one eye. A Rottweiler. A Yorkshire Terrier and two French Bulldogs. Lastly, a German Shepherd.

Just as one worker came up to Steve with a clipboard, some papers that need to be finalized for the temporary transfer, another worker came up and told them some news.

“I know this is last minute, but we unfortunately got a newly admitted dog that needed a home, and we thought we bring him here. Is that ok?” The young shelter worker said, a bit of embarrassment in their tone.

“Of course.” Steve answered firmly. With that, the worker gave a thumbs up to someone at the back of the open van and brought out the last dog for the Avengers.

A Xoloitzcuintli.

“what, in the hell, am I looking at?” Clint wondered, grabbing the leash of the one eyed golden retriever he got assigned to take care of. A worker nearby giggled as the Archer’s confusion.

“That’s a Xoloitzcuintil, Xolo for short.” The same worker that gave Steve the clipboard with papers to sign. They slowly approached the Xolo and took the leash from the person holding it. Unlike most Xolo, this one was coated, but in certain angles could still be mistaken as hairless. Ears pointed and eyes shaded like honey basked in sunlight. “This cutie is called Joji. We got him yesterday, his owner unfortunately couldn’t take care of him anymore so we took him till we find another owner or family for him.”

Joji wandered a bit, before judging a certain patch of grass and deeming it worth to sit. A few seconds later and his tongue slips out as dog goes from a protective expression goes…derp.

Lovely

The next day

After a somewhat chaotic night last night, getting the dogs accustomed to each other and the team, the morning went well. Bucky, Sam and Steve walked their dogs in the morning, Peter and Wanda and Natasha simply took their dogs out so they can do their business. Clint and his dog, Lucky the Golden Retriever with one eye, were found slumped in his room. They all voted to take care of Joji as a team, each day he would be with someone new. Wanda volunteered to take care of Joji first, and she learned a lot about his breed.

Xolo were, and still are, considered spiritual companions and guides. During the times of the Aztec they were seen as healers, and to guide those through the underworld to the next life. Xolos were associated with the god Xolotl, God of Fire and Lightning and Death.

Joji wasn’t like the other dogs. He never barked or rifle up other dogs. He was always on guard dog mode, high alert and always turned with precision at a sound he didn’t like. When it was time for bed, Joji acted differently.

He didn’t want to sleep in the bed he was provided. Wanda kept telling him to sleep in it, but was he a stubborn dog, kept giving her t hen side eye. Once she said, “do you want to sleep on my bed?”, he immediately got up and nested near her, his head on her stomach.

Wanda huffed and just petted the Xolo, till he fully fell asleep, and Wanda the same.

That was until Wanda had to go the bathroom in the middle of the night and saw Joji on to floor with his paws into the air as he wiggled trying to get an itch on his back.

Coming back from their walk, the Soldiers came to see most in the kitchen or in the living room. Peter and his dog were on floor. Natasha was in the kitchen with her dog looking up at her. Wanda and her dogs were laying down as she was drinking her tea, Joji on the floor and Brody the Yorkshire on her lap.

“How was the night with the cholo, Wanda?” Sam asked, completely unaware of the butchering.

“It’s Xolo, Sam.” She rolled her eyes.

“Thats….what I said.” Sam, now second guessing himself. Steve and Bucky snickered as Natasha walked past him, patting his shoulder.

“No it wasn’t.” Natasha said, a faint smile on her face. Sam just sucked his teeth and pulled out his phone and searched the name of the breed. He muttered, “aw shit” when in fact, he didn’t say that.

The rest gather around the living room as the dogs started playing with one another or stayed rested. Bruce and Vision are heard walking in, a tablet in Bruce’s hands, A French Bulldog in Vision’s, where he was constantly changing holding positions. Bruce sat down near Natasha, eyes still glued to that screen.

“Whatchu reading Doc?” Peter wondered, looking away from Bluey the Staffy.

“Nothing just…looking at Odera’s….chart” he muttered, clearly unaware that he answers slowly. He was looking at the data and new stats that happened overnight.

“How is he?” Nat asked. Bringing him fully out of the tablet and into the surrounding space.

“He’s fine and stable. A bit of a spike of brain activity sometime around 3:30. But all in all, he’s stats are fine.” Putting down the device, he takes his glasses off and pinching the bridge of his nose; eyes shut and head tilted to the ceiling.

“Late night?” Nat quipped.

“Yeah…Tony send the schematics of Odera’s suit last night wanted my input.” He rested his head and looked over to Nat, slight smile on him, she returns back to him. Silence falls for a brief moment before someone else spoke up.

“Guess that means he’s officially joining the team…” Peter said, petting Bluey and looking like he’s daydreaming. Distance and untethered.

The rest of the day was spent plotting out their schedules with their new companions, Christmas and New Year’s, and Odera journey to recovery and the making of his suit.

The day before Christmas Eve

The team gather for Clint’s departure for the holidays, wanting to spend it with his family this year. They mostly gather to suffocate Lucky in kisses and voices in a slight higher tone. Since he had this dog, planes are a negative so a rental will have to do.

They all returned to what they were doing before, and for Bruce, that meant going back to his lab and work. Today was his day to watch Joji and so naturally for him that meant another task for the day. He learns that Joji isn’t that high maintenance like the rest of the bigger dogs. He’s just existing.

He was going over parts of the suit Tony had already made up for Odera. The Doctor was running test on the material that should be used to make the suit, once he finalized what components and materials he found sustainably, came the next important step.

Measurements

Bruce goes through his desk for a notepad and pen to head over to the small medical area in their building. Securing both items, he makes away to the doors before stopping and turns.

‘Probably best not to leave the dogs here.’

His eyes land on Oso only to see the frenchie having his paws tucked under him and snoring like he just worked a rough graveyard shift. He then pans to Joji who’s awake and dragging himself to Bruce, stopping a few before him.

“Alright you mutt, let’s go see our recovering friend.” Teasing attitude from him. Though Joji didn’t seem to care. Thankfully there’s an elevator near so they didn’t have to walk for long.

He presses the button to take him to the second floor, to where Odera is being housed currently. It’s a small medical area. Two beds to rest and recover, a bit of room for physical therapy, and a station for all their medical needs. Only one nurse was present up here, she’s here every three hours to check up on him to inform his doctors and Bruce of anything new so Bruce wasn’t expecting anyone up here, so him see a fellow Avenger up here caught him off guard.

“What are you doing up here?” Bruce asked, he then asked Friday to pull up the latest version of Odera chart on the holo-screen.

“I was just…checking up on him.” Steve said. He had his sketchbook with him, opened to a blank page and a sharpen HB pencil in his hand. He wore what he usually wears, some sort of blue jeans with a brown leather belt and a somewhat tucked button-up. “What about you?”

“Just getting some measurements on his arms. Suit design.” Bruce replied. Steve nodded lightly with a faint smile, seeing Bruce going through the cabinets for measuring tools before looking back at his chart. A deep exhale made the Captain twitch his brows with the slightest of worry creeping in.

“Something wrong?”

“No…it’s just…there’s that constant rise and fall of brain activity and I don’t know what’s causing it.”

“Maybe it’s not science related.”

‘Great, another magical thing.’ Bruce mutter within his mind. Science and technology, he gets, without a doubt. But magic, is nothing but entropy. He doesn’t deny magic existing, he just denies the rules of magic. How can he just believe that someone like Wanda or Odera even, just use magic. They know Wanda’s powers came from the Mind Stone, but even that’s still a mystery. And Odera was just, what? Getting snatched by time-bending gods from the fourth dimension and have given him shadow powers and the ability to summon a literal army? To then turn to an heir of a war god?

Like what?

To a normal person, this sounds crazy

But Bruce, knows crazy, so…

Ain’t nothing new

A few seconds of nothing passes before Bruce moves, doing what he planned to do. “I’ll consult with Wanda then.” Bruce informed Steve. A few feet away from Odera’s body and he waits to see if that rumbling Umbra appears from his body.

“Odera? Can you hear me buddy? I’m just going to measure your arms and hands for a suit, is that alright?”

No rumbling

No knifes or fists of shadows coming out

Nothing, just the beeping of machines and the breath both Avengers were holding in. ‘Alright then.’

He goes for the closet limb, his left side, and begins. The Captain offered to help; the Doctor, though appreciates the gesture, declines it. Thankfully Odera’s hand was open and palm facing up so all Bruce had to do was wrap the tape around his fingers to see the measurement. He is gently when sliding the tape around them, like a parent gently lowering their newborn into their cradle to rest on soft pillows and a warm blanket.

He moves to the wrist, then the length of the forearm. Yet, something was telling him to look back at the holo-screen, so he does. A small but noticeable spike of brain activity. Though it was a more simplified scan, something Bruce was able to understand better, he could see what the scans were showing. His hippocampus was in the blue, ACC was showing activity, his amygdala was the cause of the spike. Bruce sighs and feels for Odera.

He was having a nightmare.

His shoulders drop in defeat, and Steve caught this out of his peripheral, eyes were raised out of the page of his sketchbook. Steve looked up to Bruce, and him the same. Worry in his eyes, a way of asking without speaking, “what’s wrong?”

To where Bruce answered, almost sounding useless. “He’s having a nightmare.” It was soft, but still sounded like he was annoyed. Annoyed that he can’t do anything about it. Steve let’s go of a sigh, leaning back a bit as he shifts his gaze to Odera’s face. He was too busy studying Odera’s peaceful expression to notice that Joji made his way over to the his side, and jumping on his hind legs to place his head on Odera’s palm.

The dog’s action forced him to blink a few before his eyes fall onto the dog. “C’mon boy, get off-“

“What the?” Steve stops mid leaning forward, hand hovering over Joji’s collar to grab and gently latch him off. Bruce sudden speaking made his heart skip a beat, like he just got caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

“What’s wrong?”

“Scans are showing that the nightmare…is sub…duing.” He was facing the holo-screen when this was happening. So naturally, he turned to see if there was anything physical new or out of the blue. All he saw was Joji’s head on Odera’s palm.

The canine’s almond eyes were focused onto Odera’s face. Eyes of cognac brown that are normally presented as on “high alert”, were replaced with eyes expressed unguarded, vulnerability and open.

Everyone knows that look that dogs do. When they walk up to your knee and place their head on top of it, tail wagging freely and them looking at you with those sweet sweet eyes. That’s what Joji was doing right now.

Bruce just stands there, dumbfounded that this dog is calming Odera’s mental. Xolos aren’t know to be service animals. They’re independent, intelligent and primitive. Some only want Xolos cause of their exotic appearance and nature. Unless your Mexican, then you know the history of these dogs and their importance in the culture.

And if you don’t know about their importance, The movie Coco has been out for years now.

Bruce huffs, putting down the measuring tape. “Guess you’re a healer after all.” Joji briefly lifts his head off Odera and looks to the Doctor. He sniffs the air between him, head tilted to the left a bit, before going back and resting his head back on his open hand.

Then Steve gets an idea. And hopes Bruce catches on.

He places his sketchbook and pencil onto the counter behind , gets up, and goes to pick up Joji. The dog doesn’t yelp or snarls, just looks annoyed. A smile forms on the Captain’s face. As he turns sideways, bouncing Joji up and down gently. Steve faces his head to Bruce, a little stunned at what Stege is trying to do.

“Can you…move his body a little bit?” He requested. He looks at a still annoyed Joji in his arms. And Bruce catches on what he’s trying to do. A playful scuff leaves the Doctor’s mouth has he carefully pulls Odera s towards him. Steve pulls his arm away from his body, creating a little ‘V’ shape with Oders’s arm. He carefully raises Joji up above and gradually lowers him, making sure all fours legs are touching the cot. He lets once he’s secured that Joji won’t fall, and steps back.

Joji stays still for a few seconds, looking between Steve and the still body of Odera under him. He then lowers his body to fill in that V shape. Joji’s head lays restfully on Odera’s shoulder. Legs tucked under as he releases a long exhale through his nose, and dose off.

“Guess you won’t need Wanda after all.” Steve joked, which earns him a little chuckle from Bruce.

“Won’t hurt to still ask her.” He looks back to the screen. Everything goes back to normal. No more signs of a nightmare occurring in his mind. His eyes slowly drift down to the measuring tape. “Guess I’ll…get those measurements later. What are you going to do?”

Steve opens his mouth but is still thinking on what to do. He looks at Joji, then Odera, then at them both. “Someone has to look over these two. Besides I got nothing to do today,so.”

“See you around, Cap.”

“You too, Doctor.”

Hours later, Bucky gets both curious and confused on where the hell Steve has been. He asked Bruce where he was and told him he’s upstairs. He makes his way up there and walks down the hall till he stops at a halt. Steve is sleeping, leaned back in his chair and using his fist to rest his head on. Then he looks over to see Joji’s in a different position, now head over Odera’s stomach. And Odera at peace, now his chest is slowly moving, a jagged pattern but still moving.

Bucky just nods at this sight as he slowly backs up from the three resting souls, not wanting to disturb this peaceful silence.

Early morning of Christmas Eve, somewhere in Odera’s Mindscape

This plane of greyscale and a restless storm wasn’t just his personal hell, it was trial after trial, a rite of proving. Proving himself he has the right to exist.

After his heretic act with the King and running into the forest, he came across a cliff and jumped. It felt like an endless dive, zipping past dark clouds and smoke. He finally lands into ground, though the terrain was strange. Grass and dirt mixed with gemstones of different colors, surprisingly he can tell there different colors with the lack of sun or light in this place. There were chunks of ground elevated that looked like they were cut with extreme precision, sharp corners and raised at different heights.

Lack of buildings or structures are present, just trees and these calculated rock formations. Loud booms of thunder made him jolt and look behind, another storm has formed, though different. Unlike the storm that is on the distance horizon and gargantuan in size, this new storm wasn’t like any other normal one. His eyes lock onto it; his focus goes beyond its raging clouds and lightning, and he feels it. It’s the King. He’s chasing after him.

Rumbling happens under his feet as the ground cracks open near him. Giant hands emerge and reach for him. He stumbles as he dodges their grasp. Then he notices the wrist of these hands. A strip of energy, in the shape of a bangle, was present and was unstable. He doesn’t know how it’s unstable, he just knows. An idea pops up.

The next hand that comes at him, he evades to the left, a dagger of Umbra is conjured. Once he sees the opening, he chucks the weapon right at the wrist and the hand becomes stunned. It practically screams in pain as multiple hands come out the wrist, all animated like they’re getting electrocuted. The limb reforms to its single hand as it slithers back into the crack it came from.

“WE…ARE…WAR!”

‘We?’

The King’s voice filled the sky, now laced with a harmony of voices at his back. these voices were in favor of the King, to aid in his campaign of spread violence and seeking endless war. Another reason to stop all this madness. The rumble has ceased but more hands are still emerging and surging towards.

Time for some hit and runs, or, throws and runs?

Whatever

Odera sprints the opposite direction before send a volley of daggers to four hands, making purchase as they shriek and fall back. He goes from dodging and vaulting, to chucking and volleying effortless. Distance is being made, and that’s all that matters.

The ground below shifts as the terrain now goes from a field to an overgrown city. He’s puzzled at this sight and briefly halts before making contact with the sudden brick wall infront of him. He turns left, and sees the open street and more city.

He turns right, and becomes a deer in headlights. It was a dead end, and right in the center, was a body.

His body. When he first-

his vision became suddenly blurry and breath hitched at the sight of this…shame. The sound of glass shattering makes him turn back and see a hand coming straight towards him. His body refuses to move, to get an angle the wrist and throw a dagger. All that happens is his mouth drops in horror as his eyes can’t focus on a single thing.

Then, a figure drops behind the hand and lodges a knife into the wrist, multiple hands shake violently before retreating back into the glass. Odera’s body finally feels like his as locks eyes on this person. It was one of those four-armed creatures, the same ones he used to control as the Weapon. He braces to get attacked by the creature, not to get told to run. The creature sounded like a man, and spoke in English, though there was a small clicking in his voice. He draws four swords as more hands appear.

“Go, Fatebreaker! We will hold It off!”

‘The fuck is up with the we’s?’ Odera cursed in his mind, while being…in his…mind.

Mind-ception

He makes the break for the left and runs in the abandoned city streets. More figures and people start appearing. They all rush behind Odera as he runs away from the alley. A single shake of the ground him stop and turn. The storm was here, creating a large wall right at the border of the city. Heavy footsteps are coming from the storm hall as a creature parts from it. It roars as more of its body comes through. Its head looks like something between a bat and an angler fish. Two air sacs inflate on each side of it head. Its front arms are double jointed; it walks on its knuckles like a primate.

(On sum real shit, it’s Clover from Cloverfield. I’m too lazy to write the description of the creature. This is the only time I’m doing this 4th wall break. Zon’t quote me lol.)

“Fire!” A random person orders the command, and the street becomes alive with gunfire and roars. Odera surveys the sudden unit of people, he can see that some weapons are human-based, while others are from a different race. But they all share the same goal.

There all protect Odera from the creature, from the hands, from War.

A small spark of hope is ignited in him. He’s not alone anymore.

A sudden hand grabs his wrist, he turns to quick back that he swears he feels like fainting but doesn’t. It was a woman, short hair, adorned in strange clothing that gives him the feeling of royalty, a symbol is in her chest.

“Come with me, Odera. All is not yet lost.” The woman plead. She sounds British but yet doesn’t like human, granted she does but her skin was blue, and her eyes remind him of his left, minus the blue scars. He doesn’t have time process all of not this. He just nods and they both take off deeper into the city, while the battle around them rages on.

The City, Odera’s Mindscape

The woman leads him into a building, a defense wall of soldiers surrounded the entrance. Odera has seen these people, they were the species that was under his command as Emissary and Weapon.

They go deeper into the building till they hit a group of people in a circle, around a makeshift war-table. Proper instructions aren’t made, only titles.

The Empress

The Archon

The Witch

The Commander

And lastly, the woman herself, The Harbinger.

The Empress and her people were the bulk military like soldiers. The same ones that first appeared in Wakanda.

The Archon’s people were the four-armed creatures, from the very beginning, from the HYDRA base in Alaska.

The Witch, Commander, and Harbinger were all humans. The Witch had spots of chitin over her armor, a curse she’s been afflicted during her life, yet her humanity remained. The Commander was the leader of the human soldiers. Closer inspection, Odera can see some were soldiers of the modern age, but some had attire from War World II.

‘If only Steve and Barnes were here to see this.’

They all share one factor, War. Either victims of war, prisoners of it, or soldiers that were led to it. But these people didn’t want to follow War’s agenda. While some do, these people reject it, and sought freedom from it’s hold.

A plan is made up.

While they hold the city frontier from War and it’s attacks, Odera has to venture into the deepest part of his mind, and reclaim it. War’s influence has spread throughout his mind, tainting Odera’s will. Like living nightmares, Odera has to confront his greatest fear, shame, and trauma to serve War’s hold on him, on all of them.

It’s already wounded, but securing more of his own mind, he will ensure victory. Victory and freedom.

The full force of the Empress’s empire stands behind the FateBreaker in this endeavor.

The Archon gather their people. The Archon’s House will aid the FateBreaker, and they will fight as one.

The Commander rallies his troops and the few brave innocent people that will brave the income battle. They all fell to war once, never again.

The Harbinger will go with FateBreaker as aid and mentor. He will grow in strength and in power.

All of them will march as a coalition, and break War’s hold on them.

Christmas Eve, Avengers Compound

The halls were still, the only sounds that can be heard is the hum of the ventilation and distance voices. Most of the Compound’s buildings were empty, everyone went back home for the holidays. All except for the Avengers.

Most were in their rooms, finding peace within the four walls of their rooms. While some, gather around the living room on their floor. Natasha and Steve were on the couch watching some old Christmas movie, an effort to lift up everyone’s spirits. It was barely working. Wanda was in the kitchen, preparing to bake cookies. A simple recipe she has memorized like it was verses from the Bible. Chocolate chips cookies, can’t go wrong with those right?

MJ and Ned were over so naturally they went to Peter’s room. Sam was in the lab with Vision, doing some small tinkering to RedWing. And Bucky was just in his room, doing god knows what. Bruce was still sleeping since his exhaustion has finally caught up with him.

“Heard Pep and Tony might not make it tonight, with this fog and all.” Natasha motioned with her index a circle gesture. A dense fog fell over Upstate New York, the news saying 78% it spread over to the city. Steve momentarily looked away from the tv screen and look towards Natasha; blinking once before moving his head to the right to see out of the window.

He nods, jaw slightly clenched, before speaking. “Forget s’times that New York can get so…covered.” Struggled a bit to find the correct word to use. They both give each other a small smile before Wanda walked into view for both of them, eyes landing on her as he walked to the couch and plopped down.

The Captain and Widow are sensed something was off, neither push to ask her, yet.

Approaching boots were coming from hall. Steve turned his head back to see Bucky finally out his room. Looked like he was dressed for the day, ignoring the fog completely. Instead, he was actually making his way to the couch as well. Unlike Wanda crashing down, he simply sat down, a leg crossed another, where the ankle rests on the knee.

“You look lively.” Steve teased. He throws one arm over the couch, extending towards him. Steve practically shifts his upper body to face him. A small smirk on Bucky’s face.

“Bite me punk, just wanted to get out of my room.” That damn croaked smile plastered on his face.

“Got tired of your black out curtains, Barnes?” Natasha joked, which in turn made laugh a bit. Everything seemed at peace. People were gathered in the living room, the dogs were huddled up near the fake fireplace under the tv, and spirits were being uplifted slowly but surely.

All, but Wanda.

She was distracted. Of course she laughed at Natasha’s joke at Bucky’s appearance, but the laugh was more forced than natural, to not bring suspicion or worry onto to her. Steve caught this, certainly he did.

Christmas Eve felt almost normal this year. The table was filled with vibrant laughter and food being devoured by the pound. For some of the Avengers, this is the closest thing to a family they ever get to. For one Avenger, this is the first Christmas without their literal twin.

RIP Dear Pietro

Wanda put on a smile and carried on. The others knew it, Steve and Natasha. They helped her in subtle ways. A comforting and grounding hand on the shoulder, head nods and eyes that speak where words aren’t needed, simple gestures that make her feel seen and heard.

At one point during the day, emotions overpowered her to the point she had to disappear for some time. She hunkered down to her room to calm her self, simple meditation she thought would help, and it did.

Her mind was blighted by loss, an ever opened hole in her heart. Losing Pietro wasn’t just another family death, it was more. And for someone like her, where she can feel what others feel on a more grander scale than the person themselves.

More meant pain. Not more pain. Just pain.

She remembers the feeling of the blade going through his chest, the ice-infused iron turning his skin cold. The smell of metal filling his nose and mouth.

Tears fall freely at this point, no longer resisting the feeling. Limbs shake as she tries to steady herself. Chaotic energy stutter around her, a physical representation of her feelings. Frantic movement. Jolting in place. An entropic display.

She laid her heart and mind out into the world, an invitation for more. And she felt more.

Closed eyes twitch at this new feeling. She was getting confused at this. Isolation. Fear. Vanity. Rage.

She knew this emotions, they weren’t just her emotions.

An image paints itself in her mind, she allows it. Void of color, she sees Odera in a living room, on his knees, shaking so violently you’d think he’s having a seizure in an upright position. Hands covering his eyes. A liquid coming out of them, and she can feel that those weren’t tears. His hands were covered in it too, streaking down his forearms.

There was body next him, Beyond recognition. Stomach tore open, a pool of liquid that parts into many small rivers. Intestines and organs mauled into chunks or strings of wet matter. The bones that make up the lower spine can be seen but just barely, showing how deep he was slashing and cutting.

Typical sliced throat, one deep horizontal cut. Wanda was struggling to see the face simple because there want a face. The person’s jaw was completely ripped off, just upper teeth and a limb tongue. Both eyes were either clawed out or pushed to go pop. Most, most, of the person’s skin was still present, though small openings of skull was scattered all over the head.

Odera’s trembling body still moves in that horror like gesture. Then, a child just appeared in front of him. His body immediately goes still, head slightly shoots up at the sense of the child, before shooting up completely to lock eye contact with the kid. Odera’s face drops in horror and confusion. Then the kid spoke, and Wanda swears she was hallucinating.

“Papa wouldn’t hurt Mama anymore?”

It was him. It was Odera, a much younger Odera. He closes his mouth only for it to shake, that same shake when you’re about to cry but still refusing too. His face changes, with certainty but still scared. He shakes his head.

"No"

His younger self started crying as he wraps his small arms over Odera’s neck. He hugs his younger self back, stained hands gripping the kid’s sweater. This sweet, sad moment goes uninterrupted for a while. Wanda is at a lost of words. Was this real? Did this actually happen?

She could feel something pulling her back. Her eyes open wide at this feeling. She drops to the ground, she was levitating during her attempt at meditation. Quick scan of the room to make sure she’s back in the material plane.

She told herself she’ll check up on him later. She never did. And she should’ve.

Past Midnight

The Compound is void of life. No soul roams the many buildings and halls that make up the Compound. the air outside is cold enough to see your exhale. The Avengers building is empty. That is till another nightmare torments one of them.

Bucky’s body jolts up before he can even open his eyes. Heaving-like inhales and exhales fill his room; soon turned to deep and calm breathes. He hard swallows and become slightly annoyed. It was one of those nightmares, ones where he knows he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again. To real to feel like a haunted memory. Digital clock reads its 12:47AM.

‘Still pretty early, maybe I could sleep again.’

Bucky practically rolls out of bed and throws on a hoodie, one with a bit more weight too it. He and the winter season don’t exactly have a good relationship now and days. Always near the heater if possible. Multiple tops layered on. Some days he wishes he can rip off his left arm. Cold hits it and slithers its way inside, burning-like sensation erupts and last for hours.

He’s tries to mask the pain most days, so far no one catches on.

He slips out his room and plans to make his way to the kitchen; feel thirst creeping in. Just as he was about to close the door, four paddling paws come to life as Joji seemly comes from the shadows. Today, technically yesterday, was his day to tend the Xolo. Joji and Luna, the German Shepherd Bucky was given, didn’t interact with other at all. Bucky tried to coax both pups to get along but they simply refused.

Luna was asleep, drowning in blankets. Joji was wide awake. “Guess you heard me wake up, huh boy?” The Xolo just looked up to the Soldier, not understanding words, just body language. Joji rubs himself against Bucky’s leg; brushed fur meets with skin and hair. A smile forms on his face from the dog’s gesture. He understands.

Side by side, The Soldier and Xolo made their way to the kitchen, only to see a familiar face standing at the kitchen. Wanda

She was mindlessly stirring her now cold tea. Oolong with a spot of honey. She was under a lone light, basking under its light. One hand she stirred and in the other her thumb swiping between what one assumes is Pinterest.

Bucky tried to slowly walk up to her, not wanting to scare her or disturb her.

Joji, said fuck all that and happily walked up to the her. Bucky sighs at defeat as he switches to walk normally. The dog jumps on his hind legs and front paws sit on top of the marble.

“Hi Joji!" Her voice goes a bit up, clearly now in an better mood at the sight of the pup. She looks back to see Bucky come into frame, small hints of shyness in his face.

“Hey kid.”

“Hello Bucky.”

A bit of silence settles in as Wanda goes back to petting and scratching the Xolo’s head; a big smile and tongue flopped out is plastered on him. Bucky makes his way to grab a glass and pour himself water. Drink in hand, he goes to the opposite side of the island. “So why are you up?” He asked

She thinks of the words to say. “My…mind…is a bit more active tonight. Wouldn’t shut off properly.” She answered. No longer mindlessly stirring she drinks her tea and makes the discovery that Oolong is better cold. “What about you Barnes?”

“Just couldn’t sleep.” He lied. Joji was now trotting to the couch before jumping on and planting himself. “What was your mind racing about?”

Wanda is slightly taken back at the question. “Oh…it was thinking, about how this would be the first Christmas without Pietro. He wasn’t as fond of Christmas like me. He liked Halloween more…” she stops, something gets caught in her throat a sip of tea before she continues. “…I remember feeling it. His last breath, the feeling of metal and ice in his chest. How my powers urged within me.”

“Can’t imagine knowing the feeling of someone’s body and mind.” Said Bucky, he thinks of the burden of wielding this power. They both take a sip of their drink at the same time before Wanda reveals her true reason she’s up still.

“Well, it’s happened again today. Knowing someone else’s pain.”

Bucky shifts his stance, a bit more up right than leaning on the kitchen island with his forearms. The mention of someone else’s pain made him wonder whose pain she felt.

Questions formed in his head. Who’s pain? Was it Steve’s? Was is Nat’s. Peter? Was it me?

“Who’s?” Was the question he landed on to say. Wanda moves her jaw in a circular motion, mentally preparing to speak on this. One deep breath in, and

“Odera’s.”

Breath out.

The air around them changes, like it’s been tainted with chemicals. Bucky just stared at Wanda like she just confessed her biggest sin. Stunned and at somewhat lost at words.

“W-what did you see?” Eagerness in his voice but not the eagerness you think. He was worried and wanted to know all of it.

“There was…a man.” She started, hands curl in discomfort but not fully. Bucky’s ears are fully engaged. “He was…mangled.”

‘Mangled?’ The word bounces in his head. A mangled body could mean anything.

“In what way?” He inquired about this man’s body.

“Hi—his stomach was tore open, like he got mauled by something. He was covered in marks, holes and so much blood. His face…” Wanda stops, voice trembling at the last part. When she experiences someone else’s thoughts or emotions, there amplify. By this time she should have gotten used to these but, she fails each time. This time, with Odera, she wants to claw out what she saw out of her.

“…half of it was gone. I could see some of his skull.” She finishes. Her breathing shudders as she inhales deep, closing her eyes. Something twists in Bucky’s stomach. His time as the Winter Soldier, his kills were never this brutal. Only once was one of his assassination brutal, metal arm going through a man’s chest fully.

But this? This wasn’t killing. It was statement. Bucky was about to ask what else happened but Wanda beat him to it.

“And Odera was right there, on his knees…” Bucky’s body freezes up like second nature. He flexes his viberniam fingers, in growing anger and haunting reflex as a screenshot of a horrid memory pops up.

When he got transferred back to the US from the Soviets to HYRDA, he remembers the downtime between missions. The Soviets treated him a weapon, American HYDRA soldiers treated him as a weapon...

And a source of entertainment. They got creative and very handsy with the Soldier. The memory retreats back into the depths of his mind as Wanda continues. His anger changes to woe and empathy.

“He was crying, his hands covering his face but, Bucky.” Wanda was able to see the shift in his face at the mention of his name. ‘This can’t be good.’ He said in his mind, almost dreadfully speaking.

“His hands were covered in blood, his fingers were like claws! I-“ her words get caught in her throat. Wanda spoke a bit more up, clearly showing how she felt about this.

“You don’t think he did…?” He caught on and questioned her.

“I don’t know.” Voice flat with tones of defeat, like she hit a part of a puzzle and gets frustrated at the many attempts to solve it but ultimately failing each one, anger building each time. “And then… a kid showed. It was him, Bucky. It was Odera.”

‘What?’ Bucky’s face changed to express his shock, confusion, and just straight up taken aback at this.

“It was Odera! He said to his older self…” the Memory crawls back to her like a wounded animal. The voice of Odera’s younger self echoing.

“Papá won’t hurt Mamá anymore?” His words running together, quick and warm. His voice was soft but his innocence was slowly fading.

“…he said ‘Dad won’t hurt Mom again?’ and Bucky, he couldn’t be younger then 10.” Wanda, now clearly getting angry at this, that this somewhat happened to Odera.

‘Ten?’ Bucky didn’t want to believe her, he simply did not want to believe that whatever he was thinking, happened to Odera. “What else happened?” He asked, almost like a command but he simply wanted to know more.

“Nothing…he just shakes his head ‘no’ and they both hugged each other.” Wanda responded. Bucky’s swallows hard and closes his eyes, head swaying slowly. His hearts aches in both relief and pain. He’s glad that this had somewhat a good ending but knowing Odera has some heavy family trauma, he can’t help but feel for him. Bucky was all to familiar with trauma.

This small moment was met with the interference of Friday. Her voice lacked her usual tone and was replaced with monotone and blank, like how any other AI’s voice should be. An holographic alerting would sound as she repeats one sentence.

“ALERT. IMMEDIATE ATTENTION REQUIRED IN MEDICAL BAY ONE.”

The hallway lights of the second floor were flickering harshly as Wanda and Bucky raced to the Medical Bay. Not a single thought ran through their heads except for one.

‘Odera’

Bucky was the first to reach the bay and enter room one, Wanda not too far behind. A wail of medical machinery and the sounds of limbs smacking against the cot filled the room as Bucky and Wanda see Odera animated body shaking, like he’s having a seizure but only more violent. Hands clenched smacking down on his sides, fingers spasms like an unrelenting twitch. Legs moving constantly like if you were laying in bed and trying to find a position to finally sleep, only to keep moving, never finding a good spot to stop.

His face was scrunched up, an expression as if you were shielding your eyes from harsh winds. Black veins would appear randomly on his body, traveling up or down his limbs for a brief moment before disappearing. The tips of his fingers were beginning to blackened, skin texture would be replace with fire-like movement as white and blue blemishes would manifest and move frantically.

Both Avengers stand still, unsure what to do before Bucky moves in to stop his body from moving. A small grunt leaves his mouth as he makes contact with the body. He’s burning up, bad.

Wanda goes to the other and repeats what Bucky does, she struggles a bit more than him. They both feel protruding veins and meat move under their fingers. Wanda tries to use her powers, Chaotic energy flows from her fingers and sweep into his forearm. What she’s meet is him jerking that arm strongly and Umbra energy gathering in his hand, his fingers flexing as he point his fingers towards her. She redirects his hand before a blast of Umbra shoots out and hits somewhere in the background. away from Odera, Bucky and her.

Neither of them hear Steve and Natasha barge in, the siren of beeps and alerts overthrown their sense of hearing. It’s not only when Nat goes to his heart monitor and shuts it off; silencing the main source of noise. Steve goes to Wanda side and takes over, a bit more successful at containing Odera’s erratic movement. A plan is forming in the Captain’s head, too many unknowns for his liking but it’s there only option.

“Can you put us in his head?” Steve’s head turned to the left, his question directed to Wanda. His question sounded both like a plea and a command. Wanda’s chest moves quickly from her attempt at holding his body down and from her counter move.

“I—I can try.” She answered. Steve gives an affirmed nod and she takes it as her permission to move. She quickly gets to the top of Odera’s head as her fingers hover over the sides. She channels her powers through shaky fingers as her hands emit that scarlet pulse of energy. That energy turns into strands of Chaos as they slowly move and towards his head and make contact. At the moment her powers touched his head, he bares his teeth and eyes scrunched harder, the expression of going through pain.

Only three seconds pass before Odera’s head splits into six different heads, all shadowy in appearance. For the first since his departure from the Nine, they hear his voice for the first time.

And he screams. Through all the heads.

Eyes and mouth open fully as a white glow comes out of them. A shroud of darkness and whispers of a thousand overcome the Avengers as they plunge into the mindscape of Odera, unaware that they will be dropping into something they aren’t expecting.

They all get dropped onto their backs, small grunts and whines leave their mouths. Natasha’s the first one to get up from there surprised fall and notice the setting. It was the same city as before, in an alleyway, only now the stench of bullets fired is present. Hot and fresh bullets.

They all jump at the sound of concrete getting smashed and a monstrous roar. The buildings that made up the alley were starting to shake as new sounds erupted in the city. The sounds of bullets firing…and missiles.

Taking no chances, they all rush out of the alley and into the streets only to be meant with a militaristic group of soldiers and people firing at a giant double jointed creature. It’s bat like face with air-sacs for ears shriek and yelp and moan in pain as shots are fired at it. They all serpentine behind this unit to fully see this creature. It’s pure black eyes in the shape of ovals, it’s jagged rows of pointed teeth, and it’s slim but muscular build. One of its double-jointed front arms wave in annoyance as tank shots make impact, the creature moans not in pain but vexed.

The Avengers huddled behind a car as they survey the rest of the scene, noticing the familiar yet unknown beings on ground level. The bulky military soldiers, the four-armed people, and the regular human people. Wanda and Natasha bounce between the armed forces and the creature, Steve and Bucky are focused on one of the sources of these missiles.

A tank, from their time. During their war. A British Matilda II, decent condition and very much well operational. Steve looks back to Bucky, the same expression as his. Utterly confused on how a thing from their time is here, Along side modern and alien tanks?

Steve looks back to the street, closer into the actual unit of soldiers. His eyes scan each person, up an down in mere seconds, then onto the next, then next, until he lands on a familiar attire. An American Infantry, M1 Garand in his hands and all.

“Steve…” Bucky called out, a bit unease.

“I don’t know, pal. Doesn’t matter. We’re here for Odera.” He looked back. Steve could see a bit of hurt in his friend’s eyes. It too pained Steve to see one of their own here battle with a creature the height of 12 stories Along side literal aliens and other people.

This moment of sorrow is cut off at another roar, but now different. They both looked down the middle of the street to see the creature, still unscathed by the barge of bullets and heavy weaponry. Not a single scratch on it. Its roar of annoyance changed to a roar of anger; baring more teeth as it moves towards them. It only moves a couple of feet before the ground below it cracks open twice, a beam is shout out of the ground, a beam of Umbra energy and…black lightning?

It hits the chest of the kajiu like 10 trucks, it sudden roar of pain made everyone halt. The beam continues to hit its chest before going through it completely, flesh and chunks of its back explode as its roaring becomes a screech, and goes down tumbling.

The beam stops as the kajiu drops to the ground, tongue out and its eyes already glazed over. The stench of charred flesh and sea fish become putrid as people neared its corpse. The corpse began to moving…only just backwards.

The sound of something get heavy and slimly getting dragged against asphalt made everyone go mannequin. The creature was getting dragged into the very hole the sudden beam came from. Everyone was expecting a large thud! sound to come from the hole. They were instead met with silence and Umbral energy flowing out of it.

And a person rose from it.

His skin and clothes were decorated in cracks with a white glow; cracks that look like scars and cracked stone from an earthquake. Umbral energy was attached to him and gave the appearance of a large, flowing cloak of shadow. As he rose from the crater, those small cracks of his body started forming to the nearby buildings and street, finally bringing light into this endless night.

His eyes, once honey brown and Tesseract blue, were replaced with white, ethereal in nature, no signs of pupils or irises. Just white.

Everyone looked up to him, with no fear. With no hatred in their eyes. No anger in their mind. They see what they used to see him before.

An Emperor

A God

A Conductor

Now, a FateBreaker.

Odera finally looks down at his audience and saw the many souls lost to war, the ones that were forced to fight and the ones that paid the price for it. He somehow didn’t catch the four Avengers in the crowd but everyone one else. His expression was stoic but had relief in there somewhere.

That sense of relief would get drowned out by the roar of thousand thunders behind him. Everyone gasped and ready their weapons, except him. He simply turned slowly back to see. A wall of fog that was at least two miles ahead, outside the city’s borders, touched down and lightning lit up the wall. Behind the fog, was a monolith like structure, grand and reaching to the heavens. At the top, were three eyes in a triangle shape. Those three, dreaded, haunting eyes.

Those eyes were locked onto Odera, and his locked onto War.

His cloak of shadow started to tear in the middle and gently rose to his side. His rip, the energy that made up the cloak would grow; get more shadowy in that inky like fashion, where tears meet, that same white in his eyes would shine but burn like fire.

His cloak now looked like a pair of wings no one has ever seen. Unless you had a dream three years where you were freefalling with a giant firebird then getting taken to white sands with the planets align above you.

No one was able to see his face. No one saw his eyes narrow down to those eyes in the sky, no one saw how he flexed his jaw with anxiety. All they saw was the white flames in his wings grow and amplify the light and glow of the cracks of white on him glow brighter, before he quite literally started flying out of the city and straight to the wall of fog.

A British woman that seem to appear out of nowhere made her voice heard. “This is our reckoning! The FateBreaker will break the hold War has us on, and he will end it!” Triumphant shouts erupts from the many species that made up this small collective, but more shouts were heard throughout the whole city. Meaning there’s more people and more soldiers.

The Avengers, completely out of the loop, only stand there as people raised their rifles and weapons. They all share a look between each other before a pair of eyes land on Wanda.

“Wanda, what’s happening?” Steve urgently asked, sensing that a big fight is about to happen. Bucky too looked to her while Natasha was too busy looking at something that caught her attention.

“I don’t know. But their minds…they were all victims of war. But now…” she gestures to the crowd in front of them.

“They’re fighting back…” Bucky’s voice came through, realizing it. In the distance, a roar was heard; echoey but with a bass you could hear from miles. They couldn’t see Odera himself, just is wings as he divebombs to the ground. His wings are fully ignited in shadow and white flames as a giant explosion that could easily be mistaken as a carpet bomb run. From the white fires of this explosion, out came flying an another colossal creature, only now this one was winged.

From the fires, it took off from the ground and made tremendous ease making distance from it. It roared once more, soaring through the land. The people of the city were too far to see the horde of shadow creatures trying to attack this winged colossal. All they saw was fire and wings. The colossal roars one last time before shooting up to the sky even high; using its wings as a booster. It was now heading straight towards the fog.

Another wave of rebellious shouts come from this small army of people as they stand by their respective leaders. The Empress with her legion of seasoned warriors, the Archon with those in their house that are brave enough to face War itself, and the Commander with his people and soldiers that aren’t afraid to lay their life again but this time for an actually good reason.

The Harbinger, the British woman from before, was at the front of everyone as she sounded the command to charge and like a stampede of bulls, they all charged towards the horde and the wall of fog they were guarding.

“So what? Now there’s a war happening in front of us and we don’t exactly have weapons. How are we—“

“I wouldn’t quite say that, Barnes.” Natasha cutting off Bucky. Her cutting in made everyone react and turn to her and what she was seeing, a familiar weapon to Steve and Bucky. “You fellas remember how to use these right?” Natasha said as she went to pick up the firearm from a time long pass, before throwing it to Steve. He catches it and inspects it.

‘Definitely from the 30’s.’ He cocks it and that satisfying sound of the mechanism brings him back to his days with the Howling Commandos. A distant memory, yet it still only feels like a couple years ago rather than the ladder of 70 years. Natasha throws another firearm to Bucky and an ammo sling to them both.

“Wan, can you use your powers here?” The Widow inquired as she equips herself a pistol and a few magazines. Wanda conjures a ball of energy in her palms, a visual answer for Nat. Though it’s stranger that she can use them now, unlike the first time they entered this place.

One final glance goes around before they join in with the rest of this coalition.

Didn’t take long till shit hit the fan.

Right in the middle of the field, the Avengers covered each other as they made their way to the wall and somehow come up with a way to go through it. It was a strange sight to see the creatures from before both fighting them and fighting with them.

The ones that fought by their side were untainted by that shadowy appearance, complete control of their will, the only thing they followed was their Empress into battle. Some carried rifles and different sorts of them, while some, including the Empress were wielding war hammers and swords that can be dual-wielded. They fought against their corrupted counterparts as they pushed forward.

Odera, or Odera’s kajiu, was somewhere on the other side of the wall. Fireworks of white and the lightning would light up the sky and show the outline of the kajiu flying or the outline of some thing way more wicked. It wasn’t until now that the Harbinger noticed the Avengers. Bucky and Steve were watching their front side when a spider like creature appeared in front of them. Their bullets seemed to not affect it, only getting grunts and hissing from the creature. It wasn’t till the Harbinger dashed by them and conjured an orb of energy and launched it directly at its head, finding purchase as the spider immediately collapses and curls.

She turns around from the corpse and to the Avengers, her eyes scans each person quickly, already sensing that something is different with them. Her eyes glide through Steve’s appearance before stating the obvious.

“You four came from the material plane…” The Harbinger’s voice was filled with curiosity but with caution. Her head tilts to the side, eyes narrowing on them. “But you know him, don’t you.”

Stating a fact and not a question. Bucky was the one to speak for them. “We’re just trying to the kid. He saved us before, time we return the favor.”

The Harbinger lifts her head at his tone, and nods at his words. “Stay close, we’ll pierce this shroud and aid Odera.” And with that, they followed her deeper into the battlefield as they joined the Empress and Commander, the Archon not to far behind.

Nearing the wall, they could feel the ground shift below them. They all halt as up ahead, a giant portal of Umbra opens and out comes a tsunami of shadow creatures. Clearly outnumbered, they all embrace for impact. Then, the winged kajiu slices through the fog and dives down. It roars as it descends rapidly before it opens its wings to glide smoothly across the field. Its mouth starts radiating with white fire as it shoots it out to the horde of creatures. It was like a blur, the speed at which it came down and flew across the field before it pulls up and fly back into the wall.

“Great. Now how do we get pass?” Bucky’s sarcastic question earned him a grunt from the Empress. Out of no where, the Witch bumps his shoulder as she pushes through the group.

She rolls her shoulders back as she raises an orb up and uses her offhand to channel the orb’s power. The fire started flying towards the orb as the Witch plants her feet down, the force of the fire and its energy was strong enough to push her back a few inches, feet digging into dark dirt. Seemingly all of the fire was absorbed into the orb, flames running rampant in its shape.

The aftermath of the Kajiu’s attack made parts of the fog clear up, an opening to storm through it. Just as they were about to advance and cross the other side, something behind them crashes as a bell tower like structure breaks through the ground. Jagged and coming out at an angle, the tower comes to life with energy as it rings a twisted alarm, it eerily sounds like call from a White Bellbird but only at a louder decibel and sounds nothing like it’s bird counterpart.

This alarm wasn’t just a sound. It was filling everyone’s sense with dread, worry, and fear. Pulses of energy would emit from it like a beating heart; alive and active. It’s overwhelming alarm made everyone drop their weapons and cover their ears at an attempt to muffle it out. The tower’s appearance of dead tree bark and vines was all that anyone could see. All but for the Witch. She swirl her off hand around the orb and holds it, charging the newly founded energy of fire in it into a beam of soul fire. The tower falls silent as flames eat away at its long dead bark.

“The rest of you go! Me, the Witch and Archon will prevent any more of these things from appearing! This is it.” The Harbinger’s voice came through as she summons a longbow, elegant in its design of polished wood and gold metal plating to reinforce the draw. The Witch and Archon ready their own weapons. “Empress, Commander, rally your remaining troops to join you! Aid the FateBreaker and free us.”

Those were the last words of the Harbinger before she plunged herself into a crowd of enemies.

Everyone else readies themselves for the battle beyond the wall. To face War itself.

Just another day of being an Avenger.

They all moved as one, the Avengers, the Empress and her warriors, and the Commander with some of his soldiers. They breached through the wall and immediately there sense are dull. Everything sounds muffled except for those familiar whispers and a piercing ringing that feels like it’s going in circles in their heads. They push through this distraction until they finally reach the other side.

And all they can see is a storm of hands shaped into a monolith-like structure. An upper body was present, and what looks like three arms coming from each shoulder. The head was nothing but endless smoke going up with white slits as eyes. This living monolith dwarfs the flying kajiu easily. hands were moving like how Wanda does when she uses her powers; fingers posed in certain positions. This was War.

“THIS IS WILL END NOT IN YOUR FAVOR. YOUR RESISTANCE WILL BE REMEMBERED, IN THE SHADOW OF THE EARTH AS I TURN IT INTO A WORLD GRAVE.”

Shadow creatures started manifesting from sudden rifts in front of them, rushing towards them. The Empress let out a war cry and her warriors followed, encouraged by her action and fearlessness. The Commander raised his rifle and the roar of soldiers, civilians and everyone between was heard. And high up above, was the kajiu, a roar to announce its arrival as it dives straight towards War.

And with that, their fight has begun.

On the ground, the Avengers stocked together through this, out of the loop for this fight. All they did was shoot and reload. Wanda was too busy trying to make sense of any of this, one hand was conjuring a shield while the other was sending off blast and projectiles.

The sky became alive as the kajiu flew overhead trailing fire and umbra energy as War tries but fails each time trying to shoot down the kajiu.

“STAND DOWN.” War was getting pissed off now. Exactly how Odera wants him to be. Soaring upwards, Odera turns and spreads his wings and lets out a vicious shriek. He can see War waning. The moment to strike. He motions his body down at an angle as he roars. The flames at dance at the edge of his wings grow intensely as he dives once again. When at the perfect distance, puts his talons up front at roars as he approaches. War has a blade in hand but wasn’t fast enough to block Odera. His talons embed deep into the neck of War’s horrifying body of hands. The energy and fire that’s charged in his wings combust as War roars in pain and fury. It was enough power to force a crack to appear on its chest, right where the heart was.

“There’s our opening! Fire!” The Empress voice filled the battlefield as a rain of bullets came flying in. Steve, Bucky and Natasha started firing at the now growing crack of white on War’s chest. Despite the distance, their bullets were landing. Wanda’s barrage of projectiles and missiles were finding no struggle on hitting. While Odera was focused on War’s neck, everyone else was firing at War’s weakness, the the glow of Umbral energy sweeping through the cracks of his chest were a strong indication that they were damaging him hard.

The kajiu gets thrown off suddenly as War slams a fist to the ground. “CEASE.”

Crackling energy erupts from the slammed arm as hands start growing of it, fingers in strange shapes and positions. All the firing is now redirected to the arm. Energy is starting to get more vibrant as bullets fail to make impact. But like a blur, the kajiu sweeps down and its wing sliced through the arm, completely serving it from War. The kajiu earns a pained roar from War and somewhere in the Kaiju, Odera is smiling.

Like before, the kajiu flies, landing some hits on War when it can while charging up its wings with energy. Ground troops are busy with shadow creatures. All the while, the four Avengers are on the move to another holding position, now accompanied by the Commander and Empress themselves.

One last roar from the sky as the kaiju moves like a blur darting towards War. Talons poised to pierce and wings brimming with fire. The ground shakes as the kajiu crashes into War and hold him down, the rest started attacking its chest as more cracks form. A sudden burst of energy and electricity erupts from War as he roars in fury, throwing the kajiu off of him.

He clutches his chest, now un-armored and exposed. What’s underneath was just moving shadow and a beating black heart. War clutches a cluster of energy in his hand and crushes it. He looks around for a bit before, plotting something.

Everyone stands confused at this, and the kajiu is nowhere in sight now. A deep chuckle comes from War has he looks down at them.

“YOU THINK YOU CAN STOP SOMETHING AS GRAND AS I? FOR AS LONG WAR HAS EXISTED IN THE UNIVERSE, I HAVE EXISTED. MY HOME IS THE BATTLEFIELD, MY VOICE IS A BATTLESONG, MY LOVE IS WAR!”

The clouds and mutilated hands that made War up started growing taller; more arms started growing out his almost angelic like body and smoke starts being more intense. A strange light would shine through War’s cloudy body, giving him the appearance of how priest would look when the Sun shine through the stained windows, giving them that holy image. Nothing was holy about this image. Thousand arms and hands with dark clouds in a shape of a body that looks like a monolith in design but still a body none the less.

Megalophobia has already crept into some of the people before, but at the sight of this, it only amplifies tenfold. Even Wanda feels the fear creeping in. Natasha, Steve and Bucky tried to put on a strong face but they too feel it coming in. There first time experiencing this phobia.

Whispers turn into roars of the damned. The many arms and hands of War flex and fall into some sort of position; arms extended to the sky or simply add mass to the arms being active used. Body horror at its finest.

“YOU WILL FALL LIKE YOU HAVE BEFORE. YOU WILL KNEEL LIKE THE REST! YOU WILL BOW TO M-“ An avalanche of voices yelping as War gets hit with a beam of energy from below, directly at its chest. Eyes dart down to see a field of flames surrounding Odera, finally out of his kajiu form but is beaten and wounded. His tactical gear is more torn and wore down, his face caked with dirt and sweat and Umbra moving under his skin.

War clutches at his chest again as he shuts his eyes tight, having a literal heart attack. Odera is under War’s cloudy body, a good distance from the rest of the people and Avengers, far enough that they can't see his facial expression; gritting of the teeth and jaw flexing. The beam of energy wasn’t just coming from his hands but from his hands and chest.

His body is covered in cracks like War, light sweeping from beneath. The floor is covered in these cracks and fissures of light. A visual of War’s influence waning and being broken.

“ENOUGH!” War’s eye open angrily as he throws a few arms up. Energy erupts from his eyes. A hand shields his chest from Odera’s beam as another set of arms surge to Odera.

A dome of Umbra shields Odera as War’s hands clamp down onto him. The dome already has cracks appearing as hands the size of people are pushing down onto him.

What sounds like chanting, is alarmed from War. The feeling of being overwhelmed feels Odera’s mind. The sense of being judged makes his arms shake slightly. This could only be one thing.

This was the Hymn of War. A Death Song.

“YOU. ARE. NOTHING! YOU ARE UNWORTHY OF MY LOVE!” War roars at Odera as more hands travel down onto him. The beam is still being fired but finding no purchase at War’s chest but to the endless stream of hands blocking him.

He drops to a knee, arms now shaking like after an intense workout. Fear and determination is on his face as Odera feel more cracks appear on the dome. He still hears those who are under War's command and influence, those who embrace War and the ones that are to afraid to stand against War. He feels the yearning of the shadow creatures wanting to be directed by him, their unsatisfied hunger to be commanded. He too feels the whole of the coalition on his back helping him. And they all have one thing in common.

They're all still under Odera's will. An idea runs through his head; brows furrow at trying to think about the possible outcomes of this idea, mouth slightly open and twitches. He then hears the Harbinger's voice in his head.

"Open your heart to your pain, use it against War, and end him! Put us to rest, Odera." Her voice went from a fiery determination to a calm tone, knowing what is going to happen to her, to all of souls of the coalition, to those who follow and fear War.

He steadies his breathing like a sniper taking aim, his whole body relaxes like if the Sun was present and it warmth soaking beneath his skin. Then, he opens his heart out to their pain, their fear, their pride, their rage. He channels it all. The many bodies that made up the coalition start to dematerialize and turn into pure energy and their essences. like a tsunami, it all flows to Odera and collides into him. Energy crackles around him as Umbra starts flowing to his arms, getting charged by the people's rage and their pain, pain that shall be re-afflicted back to War. If he says hes war itself, then he causes all this pain to this people. Karma's a bitch.

His whole body shakes as more of the coalition's people give up their soul and channel it to Odera; hands shake with anticipation, chest rising and falling at the feeling of gaining a second wind, his face now has cracks of energy forming. He channels all of this energy; it pools all over his body like water rushing into a container and casts a more amplified beam of Umbra. a mixture or pure Umbra, fire, electricity gets turn into a hail of power, going straight to War.

Hands of War start rushing in to block but are met with disintegration on impact and pained yelps.

Odera's voice comes back a second time as he screams in pain as he feels billions of people's rage and pain flow in and out of him. It's all too overwhelming to him, but he has to do.

And War, finally knows the feeling of being scared.

War gets bombarded with this beam and instantly, cracks appear all over his enormous body. He gets pushed back as he lets out one more yelp of shock and hurt as he clutches his heart once more eyes shut like a scared child. Cracks make their way up his body and onto his head, each crack, a storm of crackling Umbra forms; untamed and chaotic. The mantle of hands that are on War's back all react to this pain, flexing irregular and fingers twitch erratic. War opens his eyes, that were once filled with a whirlwind of Umbra are fully replaced with white.

"WE DENY YOU!" War rushes to Odera, hands coming down hard onto the ground as War's head splits open to a tornado of teeth and exposed gums. Odera pushes his arm one last time, a ring of energy is shot as War makes impact. War roars in pain as his body and many hands are send back. tree branch-like formations sprout out of his body, his now still and calcified body, an effigy of defeated. What could only be described as souls escaping War's body, He spoke one last time, before finally understand that even Gods can die.

"WE…I DON'T…I don't understand."

Chapter Text

Silence

Silence fell over the battlefield

War’s body turns solid as his corpse is suspended in gravity, his many hands turn in effigies of victory and defeat. The ground is decorated in cracks of a white energy as the sky is still a dark setting, a distant storm raging on the horizon.

At the near edge of this field, was Odera, those same cracks of white were over his skin and clothes; sweat and blood caked his whole body.

He did it, he’s free.

A pulse of energy appears around him as he pants weakly and steps back. Each exhale, the cracks would glow, in rhythm to his breathing.

Until, silence. And Odera falls backwards and go limp. And the four Avengers that were present here rush towards him.

Steve, Bucky and Natasha discard their firearms as they reach him. They all crouch as they try…something. Odera’s body was motionless; legs slight bent, his left arm draped over his chest, which wasn’t rising or falling. The white glows begin to fade from his feet up to his head, like the Sun setting down for the day as night falls over the land. Full panic only sets in when the many glowing scars of his left eye dim.

“Hey, hey! Odera!” Steve hushed as he jiggles his body back and forth, an attempt to wake him up. A failed attempt, as the last scar, the one that reaches all the way to his hairline, goes out. Steve lifts his hands immediately as he sees this. The peaceful yet tired look on Odera’s face, the lack of oxygen entering his body, his glowing scars and left eye of comics blue were dulled.

Silence filled the battlefield, the only that can be heard were four bodies breathing.

And the sound of water.

Each Avenger looks at a different direction at the sound of the water is heard. The entire field turns Into a blanket of water as the sky goes fully black, void of that continuous storm.

Wanda is the first one to look back at-

“Where’s Odera?”

The other three whip-lashed their heads to Wanda, then to the now open space of water where Odera’s body should be.

“Where’d he go?”

“I-I don’t know!”

They all rush up standing; splashes of water ring out into this void. Each call out for him; Wanda sounds freighted but stays strong, Natasha sounds almost pissed that this place is still toying with them, Steve and Bucky sound normal but yet a slight shake in somewhere in their voice. They all scatter a bit, trying to see any signs of him or any sort of life here now.

“ODERA! O-“ Bucky’s shouting for his fellow teammate gets cut off by the sound of water bubbling somewhere to his left. The vibration of the water made everyone stop in there tracks and turn to the source of this feeling. They all stare at the circle, it becomes the only sound in this quiet void.

Like before, there he comes, Odera. He spins in place as he raises from the water, his arms swinging like a rag doll before he stops and wakes up.

“Odera, what the hell is th-“ the Captain walks up to him but slams into nothing. Not nothing nothing, but as in an invisible wall, a wall of nothing. The rest try and call out for him.

All they get is Odera looking around, an expression on his face that reads that he knows this place, like he’s been here before.

Which couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Let the river carry you back to me

The female’s voice has returned, and sings a song that has yet been created

Mama will be there in the morning

His expression changes; dread spills over his face. ‘Not this again.’

Small constellations and stars begin to fill this place. Unlike before, these constellations are now familiar. He knows what these constellations are telling.

Last night, under bright strange stars

We left behind the men that caged you and me

The mother and the two boys, were his mother, himself, and Sage. Running from the unknown, or towards a promise land.

Mama will be there in the morning

Odera was already moving forward like on autopilot. He his arms dangling freely at his sides as he slightly leans toward; beaten and exhausted. The Avengers are still here. They walk with him, unaware of how this will play out.

Trust nothing and no one in this strange, strange land

A new addition. A ghostly hand touches his shoulder. Head turns slowly to see a mannequin like figure, but he knew better. Her form was that of his mother, only faceless and glowing. Odera drops his shoulders lower before something else new happens.

Be a mouse and do not use your voice

It was that same mannequin with that redness across its throat. Now new questions lingers. Was this Odera? Was the redness of the neck supposed to indicate his muteness? Is this the Nine’s doing?

River tore us apart, but I’m not too fare ‘cause

Mama will be there in the morning

He walks until a wall of stars materializes on his side. The mural, only now he nows the different frames.

The family of four was his family. The person that was darkened with a crack on there head was Odera.

The frame of the three land mass with bridges was New York.

The last frame was him, growing up. All the way till now. He still at eye level with the last illustration of himself.

Do you still dream? Do you? Do you sleep still?

The images from before are appearing in his mind and he knows what they are. His graduation from high school. The car on its side was the day his mother died. But the last two are still a mystery.

Odera’s audience of four Avengers do nothing but continue to watch, questions being raised in their own heads.

There is still nothing but nothing and black water.

A hitch in his steps, he presses on, left leg becoming increasingly heavy by the second. The Avengers aren't too behind, though that invincible barrier is still there. Odera sways his head forward; weak and beyond exhausted, spots of hot pain are over his body. Like before, his brain is working overtime trying to figure why he's back here.

'Am I dead again? Do I come here every time I die? Why I am hearing this voice again? Wha-'

His thoughts scatter when a cold blade is skewered from his chest. A familiar, dreaded blade. His mouth opens yet no sound comes out, just erratic mouth movement and a set of claws clamping down on his shoulder. He turns to see that creature again, the one that Pietro. The same one that was charging towards Bucky, unscathed by bullets before he intervene and saved the Soldier.

It barks something in it's native language, a language that the Nine made Odera learn and use to command others. Its words are effortless translated in his mind.

"Nine-Crowned yet still weak!" It said, before slithering it's glaive out of him and throwing to the side. All the while, The Avengers can't do anything but watch as their blood heats up at this.

Odera lands hard on his side, his face squeezes in pain as he tries to get back up, only to see yet again, something familiar but gruesome.

Three rooms, three dead things.

The room on the left, was a bunker. Reinforced metal and stone to uphold this corridor. The colors of cloudy grey and army green were everywhere, an army base. At the center, was a man with a pool of blood around his head. He was in uniform but his face wasn't visible.

The room on the right, a hospital room with a body covered in a shroud on a operating table , blood slashed at the edges of the paper. The sound of a heart monitor flat-lining, indicating the patient is gone. Who knew if the body was taken care of, if the nurses cleaned the deceased or simply threw a piece of cloth over.

The room in the middle, was in the open. A distance outline of New York's skyscrapers and tall buildings is seen, but the main setting was this alleyway, a few trashcans and brick walls covered in grim and graffiti. At the end of the alleyway was a body of a boy, laying motionless on the concrete.

Odera moves closer to him. A few fingers twitch as he limps over. The face comes into better view and Odera stumbles back. It was him.

Back in 2016, when he took his life, when he just wanted to see his mom again.

Then the realization of the rooms came down like a storm. He started hyperventilating when it came down crashing onto him; vision going blurry and eyes blinking to rapidly. The Avengers stare as Odera physically breaks in front of them, curling onto himself as tears threaten to flow. They each take in the details of each room, and Bucky swears the left room looks too familiar.

The voice spoke again, soft but haunting, like before.

The river murdered you and now it takes me

Odera tries to get back, the first attempt his arm gave out and he fell back down. The second attempt is successful. heart beat is still recovering from what felt like both a panic and anxiety attack; the feeling of dread and racing thoughts linger but are slowly fading away at a uncomfortable pace.

Amongst themselves, the Avengers share a concern look; clearly uncomfortable at what they are seeing. They even after the couple of months of him staying at the Compound, they still know very little about him. His family, background, what he did or was before the Nine, all of it. Data and intel can only tell so little.

Mama will be there in the morning

That persistent yet endearing quote is still being said by this female's voice. A strange voice to the Avengers, but a haunting one to Odera…one where he prays to a god he doesn't forget.

You may not know me, because I've change, Ooh I changed

But mama will not stop lookin' for her baby

Odera remembers those lines of this lullaby-chorus. If anything, these lines could be a reflection of himself. He has change so much that his mother may not know who he was, but she will keep looking for her son, her baby…

When the river takes, the river gives

And mama will search as long as she loves

…as long as she loves.

His walking becomes more sluggish; an unbearable amount of weight is on his leg now. The river transitions from a stream to a open body of water, unlike how it was a lake from the first time. The Avengers are taken aback at the subtle shift in setting. The open vastness of the area.

There is nothing but nothing and black water, and a woman a few feet away from Odera.

They became a little more alert at the sight of her. Her back is facing them, humming something, an unknown melody. Brows furrow and eyes are trying to focus in onto this woman. While they stand there trying to figure out who she is, Odera…

…Odera makes a break for it.

His sudden burst of movement made the team jolt back in place; surprise at his abruptness. The woman turns to the sound of splashing water, to only smile at him. Oh, how he miss her smile.

"Mama will be there in the mornin" The woman was only saying the sentence, leaving the Avengers confused. At least for one of them, Natasha knows who she is. Odera is still running towards her, only this time, it will be different.

His left leg, same leg that feels like dead weight, bursts into fragments of glass or porcelain. Making contact with the water, he only looks up in in shock and confusion; eyes widen and mouth drop. He attempts to crawl, but something is holding him back, and down.

She then starts turning into star dust, bright small balls of white and energy, as she talks one last time. Odera extends his hand out, still trying to inch closer, but fails.

"Mama will be there in the morning'!" her voice sounds like a wail as she fully turns into dust. Odera face drops in utter disbelief and horror, his extended hand begins to shake, violently.

She's gone again, for a third time.

His eyes overfill with water as he slams the hand down, clenched into a fist. His breathing becomes heavy, through the mouth now, inhaling and exhaling. he feels, rage building up inside him. Rage and sadness. He shifts into his knees as hands surge up to his throat. He has a mouth and must scream.

And scream, he does.

The use of his voice made the team go still, eyes shoot up at the first sound. His screams are a mixture of rage, anger, and sorrow. Hands leave a trailing imprint on his neck as he drags his fingers down, nails digging into his flesh. He doesn’t tighten his hold on his neck, he just leaves marks on it.

His head shoots up to the endless void of the sky. The skin on his neck and throat move, his eyes are going to a bloodshot appearance, and his body jolts as he still lets out his screams of agony. That’s what this all was to him. Agony. A personal purgatory.

Was this God punishing him for letting his desire become a reality? To give in to something that shouldn’t exist? Or was this the Nine’s intervention?

His wails of hurt turn to yells or rage as he hunch forwards, now screaming into the water. It ripples and stretches to the edges of this world. Wanda looks down to see small waves of water clash against her legs.

“Who was that woman?” Steve posed, hoping for someone in the group to have an answer.

“It was his mother.” Heads turn to the sound of Natasha voice. It was blank of any emotion, only a slight tremble in her speech, like she was scared to say it.

Like a child having a temper tantrum, Odera starts punching the water, only at an unnaturally fast rate. Each punch hitting the rings out a sound as loud as a shotgun getting fired. In the distance, a sudden wall of white fire roars to life. The Avengers step back, Odera still punches.

He charges one fist back and surges it to the ground. His screams halts as one last ripple is send throughout the water. Raspy grunts and growls fill the space now, along with suspense. He looks around like an animal; scouting for possible threats. He looks to where the Avengers are standing, yet he doesn’t see them.

All he sees is nothing and black water.

His eyes…eye, is now bloodshot. His jaw moves with a shake attached to it.

“Well look at you, like a fuckin’ animal.”

Everything in his body stops. His savage breathing, the random ache in his stomach, his eyes stop darting. That voice…

“Just when we were about to be something, you throw it all away, are you that fuckin’ dumb?”

That…voice…

Panic springs in him like rushing water. His breathing reverts back to human as he fumbles to full height. The voice taunting him all the while.

“What the actual fuck did the Nine see in you?”

“Look at you, on all fours like a dog.”

“Aw what? You scared? When are you not?”

Odera and the Avengers are looking around for the source of this degrading voice.

Only to be see nothing but nothing and black water.

Odera looks left, looks right, looks straight past the four people in here with him. ‘Why are you here?’

“Why am I here? Do you even know what here is?”

His eyes widen when the voice replied. He looks side to side quickly before gets sends to the ground by a punch. Head bounces as he makes impact with the floor. His scatter vision falls onto a forming silhouette of…himself, void of color, just a pure black shadowy mirror of himself.

“You have the strength of a literal War God and you still can’t take a punch? Are you STILL that fuckin’ weak?!”

His Shadow sends a kick to his face, and all four Avengers move in to only hit that same, damn barrier. Steve slams a fist against the non-existent wall, now pissed that they, or he, can’t do anything but watch.

He pants, the hits taking the air out of his body. Odera tries to throw a punch, only for the Shadow to dodge and return the punch. A hand finds placement around his throat and pulls him up, slowly.

“Did you-did you really think you could’ve been something? Look at you! Fucking freak…” His Shadow laughs as he shakes him in place. Odera’s own hands go up to his captors’ hand, trying to pry if off his throat but they won’t budge. He feels it, air getting hard to inhale as he gets lightheaded.

“Y’know, if you die here, you die permanently. I could spare the Avengers of having to deal with a pathetic thing like you. You knew your stay with them wasn’t for forever. They can’t tolerate you. No no no, they fear you. Look at you! Look at what you became…”

Fingers clamp harder, Odera shakes more violently to break free.

“…a monster. A freak. A murder. Who knew a fag like you can do such things.”

He goes still, the Avengers go still, but the Shadow goes on.

Odera doesn’t hear is dark-self ramble more insults. His senses dull, the breathing that he can manage becomes sharp. Rage, rage is all he feels.

The Shadow scoffs. “What? Getting mad jotito?”

Odera’s response? Delivery a kick to his evil-Shadow,right to the stomach. They both drop to the ground, water splashes an imprint of their bodies. Ignore the throbbing pain from his head and throat, Odera moves on all fours and lunges on top of his Shadow.

The Avengers stand there; eyes widen briefly before narrowing. His fingers became claws, legs morph to be double jointed, his face looks more animal. He’s tearing through chunks of flesh and bones that make up the stomach. The Shadow yelps in pain before they into full on screams.

He’s slashing through the body like a dog digging a bit into the Earth; messy and quick. His hands are painted with actual red blood, trickling down to his forearm like rivers. The abdomen has been reduced to now show parts of the bones that make up the spine.

The Shadow, still alive, tries to crawl backwards. It only manages to move an inch before Odera looks up. His eyes are now a pure black with an iris of black and pupil of grey, chest moving like he just did a marathon, and fingers spasms with anticipation. A fire roared in his chest, tension culminating in his jaw.

“You-You fuckin’ freak!” His Shadow’s voice trembled, like the voice you use on an aggressive dog running up to you. Odera’s eyes dilate with adrenaline, nostrils flare outwards, and his mouth begins to split open into a wicked smile.

The Shadow grunts in horror as one of Odera’s hands goes for his throat. The Shadow let’s out a weak wheeze as it feels his fingers dig into its inky flesh of black and red. The other hand goes down and secures a hold on the throat, not too long before he starts…pulling.

The sound of thousand oranges being squish and haunting, gurgling screams fill the atmosphere as Odera tears and rips the Shadow’s throat until he is satisfied. Fingers are tangled in thin ropes of inky flesh and cartilage, a burning sensation erupts as open air hits expose insides. The more he pulls, the more the Shadow struggles.

The sense of injustice finally being just. Something that has been repressed is now knowing freedom. The weight of suffering is becoming lighter with each snap of flesh being ripped. This voice was his tormentor, no more.

Odera bares his teeth to only the flow into an increasing scream. His roar of rage makes the skin on his face rip, from mouth to ear. His jaw deforms and splits into two, teeth now turns into sharp and jagged canines, his voice goes from human to someone made out of pure rage and violence. One strong, final pull and the Shadow falls silent.

And the Avengers…stood there and watched.

There’s is nothing but nothing

and a boy who’s reached Godhood.

Chapter Text

They drop back to reality, literally.

Natasha lands on her back against marble tile, Wanda crashes onto her side with some cushioning from her magic, Steve and Bucky land on some equipment which gets bent and dented by their weight. If that wasn’t enough, the rest of team were there sleeping, the ones that couldn’t make it in time.

And everyone loses their shit.

“AHHHHHH WHAT THE FUCK?!” Sam screaming while waking up. Peter jolts up awake to only see Bucky slam hard against Odera’s heart monitor. Bruce goes to duck while Vision is quickly darting his eyes to every new sound and new body in the room. Tony “accidentally” shoots a mirco missile. 

The Super Soldiers and Widow grunt as they get up, Wanda propels herself up to her feet with a flick of her wrist.

“Where the hell were you guys?” Bruce, coming up from a crouched position behind a chair.

The four Avengers get up from their fall, slight grunts and winces come from them before one of them simply points at the only person sleeping through the chaos. They all looked to him and his peaceful appearance, unmoved and unbothered.

“Like, in his head?” Tony wanting confirmation.

“Yeah, something like that.” Steve, between breaths.

Tony’s helmet unfolds and expose his face of worry and relief. “Friday, how is he?”

“Vitals are stable, brain activity and Dark energy have drop back to normal levels.”

“What’s Dark energy?” Wanda wonder as he looks between Tony, Bruce and Sam.

“We came up with that name to describe Mr. Leon’s abilities while you four were in, his head.” Vision informed her, though a little hesitant at that last part. A holo is projected to the group, showing different levels of vitals and activity throughout his body.

Eyes fall back into Odera as Wanda approaches him, a hand is brought outwards as she finds contact with his cheek. Eyes closes, she opens her mind and heart to feel him. She sees something…a memory, a happy one.

And for once, there are no thoughts of entropy or a harmony of yearning violence, it’s just him.

Her hand retreats and slithers to her chest, content. 

“What did you see?” Steve asked her, coming into her view.

“Something…something peaceful” was all she said, a proud smile on her face as he leans her head to the Captain better. Relief washes over Steve, ‘Well alright then.’

“So you guys were in his head?” Peter still out of the loop a bit, his face still half-asleep.

“Yeah, we were.” Bucky told him. He knows a thing or two about having your mind invaded by unwanted hands, but not by this scale.

“Not…in my head…”

They all freeze; air caught in their throats. They turn their heads slowly. He exhales deeply, eyes twitch open to reveal irises of dark brown and Tessarct blue. 

“Odi, yo-you just spoke.” Peter simply said, his voice sounded like he didn’t believe it.

“I-I did?” His eyes blink open, still feeling sluggish but more awake now. He lifts his head up to see them, to only see them staring back at him. His scars hum as they glow a little more brighter. He tries to scoot up, but his left arm gives in and he falls back onto the pillow.

“Ease kid, you had one helluva fight.” Steve goes to help him get propped up, only for Odera to look at him confused.

“You…you were there?” His voice is raspy, given that this is his first time speaking, not including the night he died and allowed the Nine to speak through him.

“Yeah. Me, Buck, Nat and Wanda. We were in there with you.” The Captain informed him of this. Odera looks between the people the Captain mentioned, they all have that look in their eyes, saying that Steve wasn’t lying.

“It’s…it’s so quiet…now.” He sounded scared. His eyes move like it’s a foreign feeling, his bottom lip shivers. His mind races.

His mind

Not the Nine’s

Not War’s

His mind.

 Bruce immediately called in a group of doctors and a few scientists to observe and treat him. Surrounded by doctors, Odera had a slight panic in his eyes.

Wanda sensed this, his fear, and stayed with him throughout the night. A quick glimpse to the clock in the wall showed it was 1:02AM.

1:02AM

She tilts her head, confused. She asked an unoccupied nurse if the time is right on the clock.

“Yeah, it is…yeah.” the nurse replied, they even pulled out their phone and showed her. Wanda nods but it still didn’t feel right. The fight felt like hours, but it’s only been 15 minutes?

A moment of silence comes when the doctors and scientists take a small break to discuss. Wanda takes the opportunity to talk with him, for the first time.

“How are you feeling, Odi?” She stands in front of him. His legs dangling, less than an inch away from touching the floor. He jerks his head to see her.

“I…” he starts but comes up short with words. His throat bobs in discomfort, a light dizziness hangs in his head. “I…don’t know.”

“It’s…it’s strange. I wasn’t allowed to speak….so freely for a while.” Odera said.

His voice was narrow. A deeper octave than Peter’s, a slight rasp clings to it. It was hard to guess how his voice was going to sound, at least they know now.

Wanda can help but ache for him a little. Imagine it. You wanted to end your life only to be “fated” to become a vessel for gods. Your own body, animated when you didn’t want it to be. Your voice is spoken for you. Your mind, open and calibrated to let the thoughts of billions to invade.

“I don’t know if…I’ll ever be the same…ever again.” He stares off to the multiple-colored tiles on the floor; muscles twitch under his right eye. A hand touches his shoulder, bringing him out of his minute of dissociation. 

“As long as it’s you, we’re here with you.” Wanda’s voice was soft, like a sister he never had, but dreamed of having one. He looks up to her, and she gets a clear look at his eyes. The brown in his right deep brown, almost like coffee beans, an unending abyss that is deep but comforting. The left eye, has his killer had said, is Nine-Blessed. Different shades of blue and hints of indigo but still retains anatomy. They move like a whirlwind; circular and textured. The scars that look like lightning strikes or cracks of earth pulse with these colors.

Looking around, she sees the doctors have vacant the space, Bruce and two others are in the background. 

“Looks like they’re done here. Are you okay? Do you want me to stay here with you?” Wanda inquired, her eyes gently focus on him, in case words fail to speak for him.

“No, it’s fine…thank you for…staying.” A soft smile is offered to her, and she smiles back.

“Alright, see you in a couple of hours.” She looks back to the clock, making sure it’s the next day, before looks back to him. “Merry Christmas, Odera.”

“Merr-“

He stops and looks at her confused.

“It’s Christmas?”

“It is.” She said, as she makes way out the room and retreating back to her room for a few years. He nods his head, but in the inside…

‘IT’S FUCKIN’ CHRISTMAS?!?’

Somewhere in Sol, 2016

Dust of red rock is woven in the air. The atmosphere lacks oxygen, argon and nitrogen dominates Mars. It doesn’t bother them. Breathing isn’t required, it never was.

The Emissary stands at the peak of Olympus Mons, overseeing this region of Tharsis. Multiple dust storms are taking formation as a member speaks.

EMISSARY TO BE WEAPON, GAZE INTO THE VALLEY, WATCH AS MY PERIHELION TRANSFORMS INTO A LEGACY OF INVENTIONS AND CONQUEST.

The Emissary begins to See down the valley of time, how far down isn’t mandatory to know.

Mars becomes the new Earth, humanity’s new home. A supernatural entity touches Mars and terra-forms the entire celestial. Crops grow by the thousand, water flows through the planet, and the air becomes breathable.

Cities bigger than the ones back home are constructed, but that wasn’t the main attraction. The focal point of this Seeing was to witness a machine. Built by a cooperation that will bring disaster to humanity at a later date, this cooperation sought to build Humanity’s greatest weapon.

An AI, it’s code riddled to calculate threats present and future, an arsenal to level an entire planet or eviscerate battalions by the minutes. Protocols to protect, and kill. It learns sentience from a woman, who will later come back to life, her entire past gone, but not forgotten.

It learns music, art, philosophy, literature, history. The cooperation deemed this irrelevant, the AI deemed it worthy.

A War God will raise its blade against Humanity, threatening to do what it has done to countless other civilizations. 

 From AI

To Tyrant

To War God of Humanity

To a friend

And the Emissary will be here when it happens.

To witness the end, again and again.

Gray light makes its way into the Compound,a cloudy morning. The Avengers are the only people at the Compound, staff and facilities are on holiday. Slowly, each person makes their way to the living room area. 

Natasha yawns as she makes her way to the kitchen. A simple pajama set on her; red and black, in a plaid flannel pattern. She blinks the last bits of sleep away as she goes to grab a mug.

“Morning.” Steve rounds the corner and walks in like he didn’t have one bit of exhaustion.

“How are you full of energy after last night?” Natasha, confused on how he’s not tired from their battle not that long ago.

“Thank the Army for that.” He smirked. It wasn’t a complete lie, the serum had a major role in recovery time and healing, but army training had some part in it. To be ready for an ambush or to move the second the order goes out.

Coffee was already made, from who is a mysterious but given that it’s still hot, could have been easily five minutes ago, before Natasha even left her room. A quick glance around, it’s just her and Steve.

Two sets of footsteps come down the hall, an already dressed Pepper and Tony who looks like, well, Tony.

“Mornin’ lovebirds.” Natasha teases the two. Pepper laughs softly as her and Natasha embrace each out do a hug, utter, “Merry Christmas” to one another.

“Merry Christmas, Tony.” Steve offers a handshake, Tony instead goes for a manly hug, even adding a pat on the back. Steve is a little taken aback, given that Tony usually doesn’t like contact, but nonetheless hugs back.

Tony is the first to pull back. “Merry Christmas to you too, Star Spangle.” The Captain gives off a light scoff as Tony looks around, confused. “Where is everybody! It’s Christmas for God’s sake! Friday?”

“Yes, Boss.”

“Wake everyone up. I wanna see everyone in a cheap Santa Claus hat. Active Jolly Protocol.”

Sleigh Ride by The Ronettes starts playing through the building as sudden lights of red and green flicker to life.

“Think I’m going to throw up…” Natasha as she sees Christmas lights come to life, before Tony throws a Santa hat to her.

“…of holiday joy!” Tony is both sarcastic and happy.

Eight minutes go by and everyone is near the giant-ass Christmas tree, the dogs are all playing with each other not to far away. Everyone, except someone with a wicked case of hetrochromia.

“Friday, where’s Odera?”

“Mister Leon is currently sleeping Medical Bay One.” She informs them. They all share, not a worrying look but more like “so who’s getting him?".  Like when your drunk friend does something stupid and falls and the rest of the group share that look. Yeah that look.

“I’ll get him!” Peter is already jumping up and journeying to the second floor. Wanda gets up and follows, she too goes to retrieve their friend. To close the distance, she propels herself right to Peter’s side and they walk in sync to the medical room.

A comfortable silence sets right between, they only look at each other once. Their eyes have something like hope in them; a spark that something positive has or will happen. The young Avengers make their way to the floor and room and walk up to a resting Odera.

He’s positioned a little more upright then laying on the actual bed, his arms are crossed over his chest, and said chest is moving evenly, peacefully. His head is resting on its left side, concealing his scars. Peter is the first one walk up to him.

He nudges his arm, nothing. He nudges again, and eyes fluttering open, slowly. Eyes become animated as he turns to see Peter and Wanda, in pajamas.

‘Oh shit that’s right, it’s Christmas.’

He shifts a bit; arms uncross as they go to his air and he lifts himself off a bit to a more comfortable spot.

“How are you feeling, Odera?” Wanda spoke softly, still wanting to keep that peaceful that was Odera onto him.

“I…feel lighter now. It’s a…little scary.” He admits to them. Wanda tilts her head slightly, a small smile on her lips. Peter on the other hand, looks neutral as he just goes in for a hug.

“Ow.” 

Peter doesn’t care, he actually hugs him tighter. Odera relaxes as he hugs his best friend back. A hug that was way overdue.

“I missed you, Odi.” He says. To which Odera responds with a huff.

“Missed you too, dork. But seriously, ow.” 

Now, Peter let’s go and retreat a step back.

“C’mon man! It’s Christmas, we got gifts to open!” Peter’s excitement returns as Wanda laughs with her mouth closed. Odera just looks between them.

“I…I have gifts?” He sounds actually confused.

“Uh…ye-yeah? Of course you got gifts, each person from the team got you a gift, man. Even Mr. Barton before he left.” 

‘Clint’s gone? Where did he go? When did he go-‘

“Oh…” the way he said it made it sound like it was a foreign thing to hear.

Peter goes to help him, offering an arm. Covers are thrown to the side as Odera gathers enough force to push himself off the bed. Cold tile hits his feet in an instant, along side a clink

Three heads dart down to see Odera’s left foot. Instead of flesh and keratin, black obsidian takes their place. Eyes twitch at the sight of the rock. He wiggles his toes, and they feel normal. He drags the foot to a small sunspot on the floor.

"Whoa…" Peter says as the obsidian goes from a pure black glassy texture to a oil like shimmer, with a bit of light shining off of it. small beams of sun rays bounce off his toes, ankle and other parts of the foot. "When did that happen to your foot?" Peter asked.

"As a dream…at first. Then my… first day…as Emissary." Odera puts a bit of his weight on the foot. If it looks like obsidian, then it must act like it. It's still glass and it's common sense that glass is fragile. He rotates the whole foot and presses down hard with his heel or toes. No sounds of glass breaking or shattering, no visible cracking. he huffs in disbelief.

"Cute…" obvious sarcasm in his voice. Peter and Wanda snicker at this, a sign that this doesn't affect them. Odera finds comfort in this.

"Alright c'mon, we can't keep the rest waiting." Wanda pulls them both gently.

Chatter fills the living room as the trio of young Avengers walk towards it. Odera’s arm is now over Peter’s shoulders, his right foot felt funny.

Soft steps accompanied by a clank made Sam the first one to notice them. A smile grows on him as he announces their arrival. Heads turn to them, before all eyes fall on Odera. His eyes widen a bit as he notices this.

“Hi.” Naturally, he sounded nervous. He smiled awkwardly soon after. Everyone either chuckles or laughs softly. Both Wanda and Peter help to the couch; Wanda’s hand hovering on his lower back and while Peter secures the arm over his shoulders as they walk.

He sinks into the cushions as the cushions groan at his weight. Peter sits on the floor near him, crisscrossed, while Wanda decides to sit next to him. All eyes are still on him, not creepily but it is somewhat creepy.

“Welcome back to the real world, OD.” Sam bumps Odera’s shoulder with his, which earns him rolling eyes from the FateBreaker.

“It…it feels good.” A small but happy smile grows on his face. He looks around, and takes in this feeling. With War’s influence finally gone, he feels, belonged. Was this…peace?

He’s no longer a prisoner of his own mind. He’s the one fully stirring his body and mind. His brain only has only one voice now, his.

What was this feeling? Is it peace? Is it being happy? What is this feeling?

He wants it to stay.

Soft Christmas music plays as the building comes vibrant with laughter and conversations. Gifts and presents have been opened and appreciated. When it was Odera’s turn, he was honestly not expecting to get any gifts. Sure he’s been here for a couple months and they’ve gotten to know him, but the thought of temporarily-ness always plagued him.

Get got something from almost everybody.

A set of graphite pencils and a new sketch book from Steve.

An art piece that Natasha remembers him seeing while out in the New York.

Clint’s gift was a custom quiver for when they practice.

Bruce got him a an anxiety ring, a small gift but Odera didn’t care.

Peter got a Lego set of tiny plants, giving their shared joy in legos.

Sam got him two gifts, first one was a gag gift, a shirt with Sam doing duck lips. The actual gift was bomber flight jacket.

“Let’s see you how you fashion this, yeah?” Sam challenged him. Same is going to regret his words later in this chapter. I mean what?

Barnes’s gift was…not what Odera was expecting. Granted, he wasn’t expecting ANYTHING from them, but Barnes, surprised him.

It was a couple of vinyls from some of his favorite albums. Stereo by Omar Apollo, Por Vida by Kali Uchis, Esperanza by Manu Chao, Hot Fuss by The Killers. Just to name a few. Odera’s face was a confused, impressed look when he faces Barnes. He was about to ask but the Soldier beats him to it.

“I uh, asked Parker what type of music you listen and I thought I’ll get you those.” He sounded sheepish, awkward.

Odera answers with a slow head nod. “Alright. Thank…you, Sergeant Barnes.” 

Wanda’s gift was by far the most memorable one. It was the silver bracelet. The silver bracelet.

Silver with black stripes woven in between the metal. And two pesos coins hooked with a metal loop attached to the bracelet. He takes it out of the box she presented it in. His fingers graze the jewelry. One hand holds the bracelet as the other hand’s thumb caresses the pesos.

The ridges, the bit of grime that has encrusted both coins, the feel of metal under his fingertips. He flicks the bracelet fully onto one hand and squeezes, hard.

“My message…” his voice barely a whisper. Lower lip tremble a little, an eye gets watery. He remembers reaching through the metaphysical to contact her, and his punishment. “It was my…first attempt at freedom from…the Nine.”

Wanda takes both of his hands into hers, firm and grounding. “Now look at you. Free from evil deities and their atrocious grasp. You’re here, showing them at they can’t make your fate.”

Odera just stares at her. He swallows hard. He shakes his head. She’s wrong.

“That’s the…thing.” There everywhere. I can’t truly…rid myself of them. But one…thing is certain.”

“No one makes my fate but me.”

One more gift, technically three, it’s a group effort.

Tony was practically dragging Odera to the lab.

“C’mon, niño. You got one gift more in the trunk. Chop chop!” Tony’s was irregularly excited. But, that wasn’t important. What was important was how the fuck did he have perfect pronouncement on that word?

Accompanying them was Bruce, Vision and Pepper. Footsteps colliding with one another filled the hall until they got to the lab. Sliding doors opened as they let out the cold, crisp of the air inside the lab leave and hit them in the face. 

Tony alerts Friday to do something, Odera wasn’t really paying attention as he was looking around the place. He’s been to the lab before, but right now, something’s off.

‘Since when was the lab so clean?’

His thought is interrupted when a semi-awkward Vision comes up to him with a small wrapped gift.

They greet each other with a smile as Vision lays the gift down on the nearby table.

“Ms Potts and I have been working on your gift for a while now. Given your mutual interest in jewelry and your powers, we have came up with something, creative.” 

Curiosity sparks in Odera. He goes to open the gift, a simple lid box in a festive pattern. Inside are an arrangement of jewelry. One upper arm cuff, two rings and one bracelet. All in a silver coloring.

One ring had a cable motif design, the other has western scrollwork on it. The bracelet had a simple design that of a snake, and the clasp was a snake’s head, an Ouroboros. The cuff was minimalistic, no design and had some thickness to it.

“Mr Stark has been working on nanotechnology and he needed it to test it.” Vision said, he gestures if he can put the jewelry on him, he nods, even more curious.

Once on, he rotates his wrist gently, he feels his bone shift and even slightly pop. “What makes…these special?” He looks between Pepper and Vision.

“Snap your fingers.” Was all Vision said.

Odera makes a face as he extends his right arm, ring and thumb finger touch and 

*snap!*

Nanites fly out the cuff and a few from the other accessories on his limb. They spiral down his arm as they make their to the tips of his fingers, a beautiful swarm of grey and black and blue. They take form quickly. Odera’s eyes widen at the speed on how fast they were moving; he blinks only once and like out of thin air, a bo-staff is in his hand.

A simple design fit for the modern day. Textured grip in the middle of it for a better hold. He spins it between his fingers.

‘Thing’s got some weight to it.'

He twirls it until it’s at an angle position. His free hand glides over it, the sliding sound of skin and smooth metal brings him a feeling of nostalgia for some reason; comforting but odd. 

He looks back up to Pepper and Vision, a smile on his lips and eyes if that makes any sense.

“That’s not all, you see that practice dummy over there?”

“Yeah?”

“Throw your staff at it.”

He looks at Vision again, an uncertain glance is thrown at him. Odera shuffles in his stance for a good launch. Pepper steps out of way despite not needing to. He charges his arm and volleys it across the lab, a small trail of umbral energy is left where the staff flies.

Decent impact on the dummy. Vision tells him to snap again and when Odera does, the weapon comes back to him, right into his palm. That’s when he notices the sliver of Umbral energy from the rings and bracelets. 

“They were working day and night trying to figure out how to collect your power’s energy and funnel it into them. I just had to buy the jewelry.” Pepper sounded proud of her contribution to this. Odera lets a single laugh before his eyes go back to his arm. “Guess you can say they’re one of a kind.”

The words echo in his head.

They only work for him, these are his.

Something thick gets stuck in his throat, eyes blink a few times. He grips the staff a little bit more harder. He feels something, a connection, a tether…

To the bo-staff.

Small flares of energy emits from his forearm and into the staff, going into the weapon itself. It’s woven between the metal and rubber, the nanites respond to this; the entire staff open in a wave like fashion, shaking in his hands as groove-like metal plates open and close to make the staff whole again. Its honeycomb pattern now has a few patches of radiating Umbral energy glowing beneath them.

'Hey, where’s To-‘

“Look alive, Bluey!” Tony’s voice boomed as he comes from…somewhere. He’s towing in a very large, very decorative, very suspicious coffin-looking box.

‘Oh he’s going to murder the actual fuck outta me.’

Stopping near the middle of them, Tony presses a few buttons on the side and the box hisses open. Several small metal platforms come up as Odera sees…an outfit. An eye twitches as he looks to Tony.

“It’s official, Bluey, you’re joining the team.” Tony’s voice had no playfully intent, just his usual tone. Odera looks back to the suit. 

The suit is vaguely similar to Steve’s; utilitarian in design with some key components and materials. Blast resistant, Kevlar fiber for heat and impact resistant, fingerless gloves that are heavy-duty. Something similar to leg garters that Sam has for his Falcon suit. It was adorned in black with some accents of blue, but could be mistaken for a dark purple.

His eyes examines the suit, fingers itching to go and feel it and hold it and grab. His eyes travel from the boots to the collar, seeing a lack of a helmet.

“Kid listen…” Tony’s voice breaks through the income wave of anxiety and overthinking that was setting in Odera.

“You don’t…have to be apart of it. You’ll still be here with us, until you decide to get up and leave the circus.” Odera huffs with a smile.

“But, if you do decide you wanna be part of, all of this…” He gestures the entire space around them. “…the suits here and you’ll start doing what we do. Save the day, stop bad people, the whole spiel.”

A habit creeps out of Odera, taking root in his mind…and speech.

“My molecules have already volunteered.  Corralling my electrons to become a tool for a garden that yet seen its first seed planted.” There is a dissonance in his eyes; a relaxed state on his face. The other bodies look between each other.

“Earth to Odera, you here?” Tony loses any and all upcoming smirks and funny remarks at the sight of the young man’s blank face.

He blinks, four times to be exact. “I…always wanted to help….people in anyway. Will…this suffice my past…life goal?” 

Tony wants to understand what just happened. ‘His speech was just normal, why the hell is all theatrical again?’

“Yeah…it does.” Tony says, almost hesitantly. Odera looks back, finally allowing himself to touch the suit, he goes to touch the glove meant for his right hand.

Then he gets an idea, he recalls to what Sam said to him.

“Let’s see how you fashion this, yeah?”

He rubs a curled finger on the knuckles of the glove. He’s doing duck lips while he’s thinking, scheming even. He sways his head to Tony.

“Can…you make some adjustments to…the suits here?” He asked with intent. Tony looks at him, a little confused.

“What? Already? Why?”

“To make…Sam eat his own…words.”

“Alright fair enough. Whatcha got in mind?”

Hot steam hits Sam’s face as he goes to pull the roasted turkey out the oven, mitts already absorbing some it the heat. Natasha is finishing the assembly of two apple pies to be forgotten in the oven until they’re ready. Wanda was making them, but Odera pulled her to side for something a little over 45 minutes ago.

Peter and Bucky are with the dogs, Peter is getting piled on by half of them while Bucky is roughhouse the other half, even Joji is getting involved. Steve is nearby with Natasha.

He has a finger of some brown liquor in his hand as he leans against the counter top. “Y’know, this’ll be the first Christmas where me  and Buck get to celebrate it together since the War.”

“Oh yeah?” Natasha say as she gets up from putting the pies in for baking. “It’ll be Odera first real Christmas too after a couple of years. I’d take it that the Nine aren’t really a… festive bunch.”

Steve nods gently, he sways his head back to Bucky and Peter, eyes landing on Bucky. HYRDA was cruel, no question, but how cruel were the Nine? Odera rarely mentions about them, only a few times.

He always mentions about struggling to adjust  to linear time well somedays. Whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean.

Friday’s voice comes through the ceiling like a door chime. “Avengers, your attention is required in the Simulation Room.” Everyone takes a quick glance at each other as they get a move on to the Simulation room.

A few of them murmur as they walk.

“We got training to do today?”

“Any idea who’s ruining Christmas dinner right now.”

“Was this even in the schedule.”

All their questions get somewhat answered as they walk into not the Simulation Room itself, but the control room of it. They see Pepper and  Vision up against the glass wall, Bruce and Tony creating actual simulations and different combat environments, Wanda is there too next to Vision and…why are her hands smudged with blue?

“Heeeey you guuuyss!” Tony’s voice was uncharacteristically happy.

“What’s this now?” Steve looked around curiously, none of them were dressed in their combat uniforms. Did Stark just wanted to mess around or was this a secret meeting? Systems are firing up as a the first simulation is getting prepared.

“What? Don’t want front row seats to see our new teammate?” Tony’s says as he picks up a tablet that has some controls on it. Faces contour in confusion as in the other room, they hear approaching footsteps in the Simulation Room. They all turn to the window wall and-

“The hell?”

He walks in, almost with a strut in his movement. He’s adjusting one of his gloves, that now has the middle and ring finger gloved, the rest are exposed. He’s wearing his new jewelry all on his right arm, though the arm cuff is covered by his now cropped bomber flight jacket, that passes his rib cage by half an inch. He shrugs his upper body; shaking his arms like dog or trying to shake out any nervousness in his body.

Eyes travel up to his face, a lot cleaner than it was this morning. A steady saturation of blues in his left eye. His hair, dry but has product applied to allow his hair to curl up into small spirals. A strip of his hair, near the front, is now blue. A head turns to Wanda’s hands.

‘So that’s why she was gone for a bit.’

Odera was about to go through his first run of the Simulation. Friday’s voice echos through the space, she’s counting down.

“5…” 

he flicks both of his wrists

“4…” 

Everyone is now at the window

“3…” 

he’s bouncing a bit in place, anticipation

“2…” 

he shoots his arm out and snap his fingers

“1…”

The Simulation Room turns into a HYDRA Base riffled with soldiers. 

Chapter Text

Hiiiiiiii everyoneeeeee

no, this isn't a new chapter :( I'm sorry. Speaking of a new chapter the next actual chapter may come later this week during the weekend (if I lock in with college) so fingers crossed !!

This is mainly for the people who are here from a new tag I'm going to be adding alongside this update log or whatever tf you wanna call it.

so if you're a recurring reader, this has no meaning to you, respectfully. unless you wanna know more about Odera (OC) then stick around.

NOW FOR THE PEOPLE FROM THE DESTINY TAG, YES, IT'S DESTINY, BUT NOT?????????? LEMME EXPLAIN PLZ

Lemme jusr sum up the story as short as i can.

My OC, Odera, gets killed but instead of just dying, The Nine (Yes, The Nine) "save" him from death to become theoretically the First Emissary of the Nine. He then spends rough 2 years as Emissary being used as what The Emissary is in game a communicator a translator and all that jazzy stuff. MEANWHILE, the events of Captain America: Civil War happen in the background. So like this takes place during CA:CW up until Avengers Doomsday. he later becomes free from the Nine and gets help from his best friend, Peter/Spider-man and the rest of the Avengers. And I accidentally turned this into a slowburn because it's OC x Bucky Barnes ( sue me I'm writing the fanfic I wanna see )

(And I have to say this, this was all planned BEFORE Renegades even came out, meaning we didn't know about VI's plans to use Bael or none of that. I originality already planned VI as a villain because of the lore book that came out with Rite of The NIne that led up to Edge of Fate. So if anything, Bungie was copying me fr.)

So what I've taken (pun intended) from D2 is obvious the Nine, The Taken/The Dread, a few reenacts of the cutscenes from the game (e.g Eris's death from Hersey and the beginning cutscene from Excision), Oryx and Xivu and the Witness but combined into one (don't ask), references to Mara and Caiatl and Eris and Zavala and Mithrax, Hive magic and Taken powers and Darkness powers. foreshadowing of the dlcs, weapons.

But, since it's not setting during the destiny era, is it appropriate to add the fandom tag to my fic? I've been playing since D1 taken king and while playing Edge of Fate, I got inspired to do this, and i was reading a 526k stucky fic during that time period soooo.

Plz let me know if it's ok to keep that tag or to remove it. We all seen that one tiktok where that dude misused tags on ao3 and i'm not trying to get lynched out here, I just wanted to combine 2 of the things i love into one.

I'll provide more details if asked, without giving too much of what I have planned for this story, but please let me know if it's ok or not. both parts of this series have influences from Destiny but if you don't wanna read almost like 100k words of it just ask and i'll try and give you an answer. Help a gay out

BUH BYEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Chapter Text

News Years was a little interesting. Tony hosted a party back at Tower and naturally, everyone was invited, even Odera. he tried to protest, saying,”I don’t deserve it” with a friendly smile on his face. But arguing with Tony is like arguing with an older sibling; you’re not going to win.

It was like another party he throws, a bunch of rich people trying to network with the more younger crowd just dancing somewhere. A surprise appearance of royalty showed up, T’Challa, Shuri Nakia and Okoye decided to grace Stark’s party. Their reason? Check up on Bucky.

Greetings were underway as Natasha approached them, already in conversation with Steve, Bucky and Tony. It was Nakia that asked about Odera well-being.

“Oh yeah he died on a mission, then came back but fought some god that was living in his head. I also think he turned into a bird?” Tony, just throwing it out there, while sipping on a martini. Steve closes his eyes with a deep exhale, Natasha lightly stirs her drink with her wrist, and Bucky looks like what Tony just said was completely normal; unphased.

The Wakandans look completely lost and were too stunned to speak. T’Challa furrows his brows before he looks to Bucky. “He’s not joking.”

“So he’s, a god?” Shuri asked, a little of uneasiness in her voice.

Natasha speaks, "based on a few assessments and what he’s told us, he’s a ‘predatory memeplex’, meaning he technically doesn’t need a body to be alive.”

“So, what’s keeping him alive?” Okoye's voiced shared the same tone as Shuri's.

"War." Steve said, plain and simple. Eyes turn to him. "The god that was in his head made him become next of its kin. As long as there's war out there."

Steve motions his arm to the open, indicting that there, was out in the universe.

"Odera lives." A haunting idea. The group falls silent with sympathy in the air. Looks of pity are shared between each party. The party around goes on.

"And where is he now?" Shuri, now regarding what she said when the Avengers came for Bucky.

"He's-"

"Hey you guys!" Pepper's sudden voice made everyone freeze before they all look to her and exchange hello's and side hugs. "Who were you guys talking about?"

"Oh, we were talking about Odera."

"Oh! He's over there." Pepper turns to point to someone in the background. Heads turn to see where she was pointing. She points to a angled window wall near the center of the floor, the one that Vision almost went through when he was first created back in the Tower. There he was, Odera, leaning on the window as he fidgets with a ring, flicking the spinning part of the ring in the middle of it with one hand as he holds a drink in the other.

"Oh that better be water in his cup." Tony brushes past everyone as he hastily makes his way to the kid.

“Wait so…you don’t act like a spider then?”

“See?! That’s what I said at first! I-“

Peter slams his textbook and head down like dominoes on his desk, interrupting Ned and Odera, MJ snickering somewhere in the back. Winter break is coming to a close, their first Spring Semester of college is already stressing them out despite it not even started. They still have a week left before going back.

The trio of college students decided to be productive and get a little head start on the next semester, given that they already had their schedules set back in November during the registration period, they looked over their new classes and course and decided to see what they can self teach themselves before having a professor teach them.

Odera on the other hand, has more higher up responsibilities now. He is an Avenger now. Like officially officially an Avenger. While Peter, Ned and Mj worrying about classes, Odera has to worry about missions, reports, briefings and de-briefings. Peter has to deal with this too, but with the Spring Semester coming, the team, mainly Tony, decided to have him court side until near the end of the semester.

Until then, Odera is going to cover his patrols of the city. For now, hes upside down in Peter’s room reading the Song of Achilles, again. on the ceiling, again.

“I mean seriously, how do you not have a headache? I can’t even be upside down for like 15 seconds without getting lightheaded.” MJ said sitting on Peter’s bed.

“Jus’ built different.” He makes a face at her, which results in a pillow getting thrown at his face.

This little study session has been going on for a little while. Peter is reviewing a textbook about computer science, Ned is reading something for his political science class, and MJ has her tablet switching from sketching to another app. Odera was already in the room when they came, simply wanting to be in Peter’s presence.

Since Christmas, he’s been having some issues. With the separation of War, Odera has this null feeling in his chest, a hole that needs to close, a cup that needs to be filled, he needs purpose. Before the Nine, he had one. Make his mother and Sage proud.

Look at where that got him. Becoming a puppet after his suicide. Though, is still consider a suicide? He still ended his life, his heart stopped. Yet his eyes opened to see the hollowness of Space and the Sun light burning straight into his retinas.

At first, he felt pain, pain that shifted into numbness of everything. He remembers the feeling. He remembers it all. The trials, the rite, the punishments. If he was fated for this, why make him go through it?

Ned noticed the quietness of Odera. He looks up to see him in a disassociate state; eyes staring into nothing. Ned lean a little back. “Odi, you good man?”

“Mmm? Oh, yeah I was just remembering.” He’s blind back to real life, he looks down to see Ned’s expression change from worry to calm. He smiles to confirm he is fine.

“Odera, I’ve been meaning to ask…” MJ lets her tablet slip from her hands, to the side. Curiosity in her eyes.

“Dime.” Odera, deciding to switch to his native tongue for a second. He knows they know some Spanish. I mean, they do live in New York City.

“Do you like guys?”

Ned chokes on his water

Peter spins in his chair to his friends

Odera is wishing he stayed as the Emissary

“Uhh, what makes you say that?” He isn’t even trying to hide his nervousness now. His eyes are twitchy trying to maintain a positive look on his face. Hands suddenly become clammy.

“I mean… you have great fashion sense, greater than the average straight guy.”

Now why does that sound familiar?

“You tend to avoid topics of intimacy of ALL kinds.” She gestures wildly with her hands, before she leans in a bit and her voice goes low like she knows something she shouldn’t. “And you, be starin’ at dudes. Like a lot.”

All at once, Odera whines as he drops to the ground, going through a shadow he’s conjured to only reappear standing next to the bed.

“Ok fine! I… I like guys.” His voice was sheepishly, not out of being ashamed (kinda), but mostly for being awkward.

“And how’s that like?” Ned was being curious.

“Oh my God, IT SUCKS DUDE…” Odera goes back and forth between two languages. He’s tells them about the whole locker room experience, looking up the different terms of orientations, and of course, boys in general. Ned and Peter are all ears as MJ nods at some of the stuff he says.

“Wow. Ar-are guys usually this bad?” Peter said at the end of Odera’s rant.

“Yes!” Odera and MJ said in unison. He plops onto the bed, feeling the mattress sink from the new weight on it. A deep exhales leaves him as the feeling of a burden lifts from him. This would be his second time saying that. The first time was with Peter and Ned when Odera was still in high school. This time would be the second.

He never told his mom or aunt this. How could he?

More of the mattress sinks as Peter joins in with MJ and Odera. “Out of the things the Nine have done to me, they still let me be like this.”

“Ok, so run this by me again…” MJ, now seeking clarification.

“You died back in 2016.”

“Yes.”

“And then you came to life and became a runner boy for…?”

“Fourth dimensional deities that bend time and space.”

“Who then you broke free from to only then have a….?”

“War God living in my head while simultaneously infusing his powers into me including the powers I got from the Nine.”

“And now that War God is…?”

“Dead.”

“Ok.” MJ is now officially caught up with Odera lore.

“Whoa, so you’re like Ares.” Ned claiming his friend as the Greek God of War.

“Oh so you’re calling me white then.” The entire room erupts in laughter as they all in unison call it for the study session, to then proceed to raid the kitchen for food.

A light breeze flows from a gap from an open window. It’s almost midday by the looks of it. No phone in hand, it’s charging on his bed. Music from a gifted vinyl is playing after buying a vinyl player, is filling in the ambiance of his room.

He stands at the end of his bed, a sway in his stance. His hands are outstretched in front him as he feels his powers sweep from his fingers and palms and parts of his arms into smoke of black and blue. smoke that turns into energy, energy turns into strands. It feels like a thick layer of dry glue, being peeled off his forearms. A constant tugging at his skin.

He’s pretend like he’s holding a basketball. His powers are clashing against each other, not violently. He tries to make mimic Wanda’s hands when she uses her powers, to only find discomfort in each finger.

‘God, how in the hell does she not have arthritis?’

Fingers relaxed to a more normal position, a slight curl. He pulls back, the energy becomes more wider, loosely as it reverts to being smoke again. He pushes in, flat like a pancake but whirls like a saw-blade, the outer edge is blue while the rest is black. He fidgets with this a little.

knock knock

“Come in!” The door opens, a few clicks of a boot makes I’m turn his head. “Oh hi Ms. Romanoff.”

“Hey kiddo, whatcha doin’?” Natasha walks into the room, something she notice is that no one really sees the inside of his room. It’s a little barren but there are some stuff that makes it his. A few metal storage shelves of different sizes, a fake plant on the window to add a bit of greenery to the white space and grey space, the same goes for the bedsheets.

Odera fully turns to see her. His hands are still toying around with his energy. She sees the display, her eyes bounce from the energy to him, lips curl upward.

“Oh, I’m just…messing around. Y’know, I’m still getting used to this.” Energy now dances in one hand as he focuses. Deep breaths and a calm mind, a single thought forms in his head. The energy collapses in on itself has it forms into a small, familiar sphere. His entire hand now glows white, textured with what one would describe as cancer cells are over his hand.

Umbral floats off his shoulder and up the the ceiling. Small twitches on his fingers, trying to contain this shape. The room is now filled with music softly playing in the background, with sounds of moving lava and fire. Odera’s form reflects with Umbral sheen.

His powers revert back into him, now looking more human than his interdimensional counterparts. He smiles, and she smiles back if she had any any idea on what just happened.

“How you holding’ up?”

“I’m…holding.” He smiles to try and give his answer a bit more confidence. he fakes-snap with his right hand; thumb and ring. “It still feels weird. Talkin’ again and havin’ my mind so quiet now. It makes me a little scared sometimes.”

He chuckles awkwardly as he falls backwards to sit on his bed, a wave of air moves around him as he makes contact. Natasha moves in and sits next to him.

“How does it feel?” She ask, wanting to understand a bit more. She may not be a therapist but she knows a thing or two about being controlled.

“Have you…have you ever waited for a mission or anything like that but to the point to where it’s all you just wanted?”

‘You clearly don’t know my story, kid.’

“Yeah.” She answers

“That’s…that’s how I feel, how I felt. I was just, waiting to be commanded, to be used.”

“Then for that feeling to be turned onto me? You were one of the people that were in my head, yeah?” She’s nods as he continues. “Then you saw the thousands of souls and people wanted to be commanded by me. I couldn’t…do that to those people.”

His head turns to face the ground now, then…

“I just wanted to see my mom again.” A choked sob soon follows after. A quick sniff makes him swipe at his nose.

“Your mom would be proud at how fa-“

“Why would she?” He didn’t mean to snap. “Why would my mother be proud at her youngest killing himself to only be brought back to life to only hurt people?”

He scoffs, “there’s a saying that I heard, more often than hearing ‘I’m proud of you.’ Que Dios te castigue. Know what that means?”

Natasha does know what it means, but she doesn’t answer him.

“Means ‘may God punish you’. This is my punishment.” He brings his head back up to Natasha and looks dead in her eyes. A shaky hand goes to under his left eye.

There is a fire in his eyes. Wanting. Seeking an answer. An answer that God certainly won’t answer. His face is a mix of anger and hurt and confusion. It however, changes quickly to shame and fear.

“I…didn’t mean to snap like that.” He avoids her eyes, ashamed that he interrupted her and snap at her like that. Two fingers tap against his thigh in a made up beat.

“No it’s okay. I can tell you needed to say that.” Natasha’s voice was low, soft, nice. Which is exactly why Odera looks back to her in confusion.

“Sorry it’s just— I don't know how to be alive when I’m supposed to be dead.” There was no anger or sorrow or sadness in his voice. Just, accepting.

“Whatever it is that you’re feeling, my door is always open, in case you wanna talk, alright?” Natasha, firm and gently with her hands. He nods almost childish, but a nod nonetheless. A small smiles forms on their faces as Natasha gives him a hug from the side before departing.

At the sound of the door closing, he conjures the sphere back again, and steels his mind. During the journey of recovering his mind, in his mind, the Harbinger taught and showed some things.

One of those things were resolve and ambition. To know who you are and to reinforce it. A indomitable will.

His shaky fingers go steady, the spheres floats in his hand as he anchors it be a physical thing. It drops to his palm. ‘Damn it’s hefty.’

Sidewalks are crowded with people in the early morning. Adults on their communion to work, students in groups, walking to schools. Among the crowd of civilians, is a drifting Odera.

Head covered to hide his face; a black bandanna with glasses, and a little bit of foundation does the trick. The scars are there, but now they look more human. Hands in pockets to try and stay the warm. He’s still not used to the New York’s weather. They actually have seasons here unlike the valley.

It’s unusually early for him. Normally, he’s up by 9:30 or 10:00. But here he is at 7:50, walking the streets of Manhattan. He used his powers to get all the way out here. A trick he learned is that all he needs the tiniest bit of shade to jump.

He doesn’t have any headphones in, he doesn’t have a certain place to go to. He’s not in a rush but or does he want to move slowly. An even pace. His eyes, ricocheting between random things swiftly.

Stains on the concrete sidewalk, someone’s outfit, different faces. Things like that.

It’s cloudy today, the air feels sticky; something is touching his face that makes him feel so. He’s coming up to a crosswalk. He halts with everyone else waiting to cross. Looking for street signs during wait the pause, eyes squinting to see he’s on Church and Murray Street.

Like marching band, him and the crowd walk in unison, crossing the street. Eyes wander once more.

A Dunkin’ Donuts. Another coffee across the street. Some sort of spa. Walls with arches on his left. An abandoned black bicycle.

His eyes scan some of the local businesses. Some sort of phone retailer, a smoothie bar, though it looks like it’s permanently closed; boarded up windows and some sort of notice from the city. The next business makes him, stop.

He reads the sign in his head, slowly.

‘Los…Tacos…No.1’

Curiosity gets him, he peels from the moving crowd to get near the storefront. He sees past the window to look inside the building. Standing tables. “BIENVIENDIOS” written in bold, all black near the ordering table. He tries to read the menu. He makes up some of the items. Not a lot of options but he was expecting that. New York City tends to not have a lot of Mexican food restaurants with more meat options.

Like a sneeze building up, the feel of guilt comes up. His eyes twitch at this. A stiffness in his shoulders and neck. Everything suddenly feels slow. No, this isn’t guilt.

It’s…it’s something worse. After all these past few months, none of this feels real. He looks to the light and to the right. the strangers passing him, Odera looks like he’s lost in the big city. But to him, he’s lost.

Even after all this time, there are days where he is just, there. Still not fully adjust to linear time again. There are days where he is constantly asking “what?”

What time is it?

What’s today?

What happened?

His fractured mind is still healing, still recalibrating to being human again. What was once static was hives and nausea to now silence with no direction. You can say the Nine were his handlers. Should sound familiar.

He walks to the nearest alley that he can see and find its shaded spot. And jumps. Smoke and shadow fill his vision as he materializes in this now familiar landscape of greyscale.

At least in here, there’s a small feeling of belonging. During his journey of reclaiming his mind, he’s learned that this place a name.

Only those who impose a powerful will or power can traverse this world. You are torn between dimensions in here, a foot in one plane and the other foot in another. This place is a mirror of the material plane with the key difference being there is no life here.

Fitting for Odera.

He knows of this place because of Harbinger and from the others. Matter of fact, he took a piece of them when he was landing the final blow. While channeling all of the energy from the coalition, he took inherited some of the traits of the group.

Besides inheriting all the bad things from War, he inherited other things, traits from the Commander and the Empress and the Harbinger.

but one stood out the most to him. The knowledge of the Witch. And what do witches know? Spells, rituals, hexes, and conjuring. It was the Witch that was more knowledgeable than the Harbinger, she knew of the logic that War followed. How War believe that his logic was absolute and superior to all others. how he was so desperate for its vindication, he killed his family, and called it love. It wasn’t baleful, or beautiful. It was a childish cry.

It’s called Sword Logic. Prove your right to exist or die in terror. The strong will metastasize the weak. Simple. Essential. It’s beautiful to know.

Odera is bound to this now. He has to invoke Sword Logic in order to not become weak or lose his strength.

The Witch left him with knowledge on War and his childish game. he’s going to need a lot of meditation to scouring through his mind and find whatever loophole or ritual he can to strafe away from this. Or to still follow the logic but in a less, murderous, blood-shedding, way.

Hopefully.

But right now, he has to haul ass back to the Compound and pretend he’s waking up just now.

Bouncing off shadows back and forth between realities like human-sized ping pong ball, and with some slight dizziness, Odera makes it back in record time.

He was six minutes late; he got distracted by an airplane.

Ditching his current clothes for more sleep-ware ones, he swaps to give the illusion he is just now getting up for the day. A look in the mirror and a little bit ruffling his hair for some reason, he walks out.

By now, Peter is already off to his classes for the day so he wouldn’t be seeing him anytime soon. Most of his days now are either reading, meditating, or bothering someone from the team. He could get into video games again, but something is telling he probably shouldn’t. Meditation now is a lot more open, for a lack of a better term.

He still does it with Wanda but he’s meditation last a bit more longer than hers. Odera wonders if she’s caught onto this.

He walks in the kitchen area to see some the team members up. Steve is fidgeting with a tablet, Natasha is making herself breakfast and Bucky and Sam are in their own conversation not to far. He slips past Natasha, a quick greeting from each other as they continue doing their own thing.

At the kitchen island, Steve is muttering something, his face contouring in confusion. Odera glances at him briefly, so does Natasha but she lingers a bit longer before going back to what she was doing.

“Hey, Odi.” He was about to leave the kitchen as Steve spoke up. “You got a second?”

“Oh, yeah.” He turns back around and makes his way around the island. Up to the Captain now, he lowers the tablet to the counter top for them to both see it.

“During our mission to Alaska, where we first meet you as the…” a small awkward silence pause in speech. Odera just raises his eyebrows. “We found data and files for something called ‘The Giver’. Have any idea who that could be?”

“III. III is the Giver.” without hesitation, he answers. His voice a neutral tone.

“Right. And III is the spirit of the Earth, right?” Odera nods to Steve’s question. “How come we didn’t see them at all during our mission at the power plant?”

“Because III is dead.”

Steve just stares at him, Natasha turned around at him because she was listening and Bucky and Sam are still arguing. And Odera took a bite out of an Uncrustable peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He stares back at Steve as he munches, slowly and completely unfazed at what he just said.

Natasha slides into view next to Steve with having the same expression as him. “What do you mean, III is dead?” She asked, and swallows nervously.

“III sacrifice themselves to help me, be me again. I was only meant to be the Emissary, not the Weapon.” His voice was calm. It only raises more questions.

“But, what does that mean for the planet? Like a-are we screwed or something?” Natasha shrugged her shoulders.

“If that was the cause, shouldn’t we already be seeing side effects of this?” Steve added

“I mean yeah, matter being transmuted, water turning into different elements, everything becoming acidic or oily. Some random disease being unleashed onto the world. But there is a way to bring them back.”

Natasha and Steve become relief at the mention of resurrection. “Kid, why didn’t you just say that.”

Odera, is now confused. “Wait, you guys didn’t know? I thought you guys were there?”

Eyes softened as Steve and Natasha recall the mission in Norway. Umbral covering the church and cave, Odera molting from the Weapon, and the giant ball with tentacles.

“That, that was III?” Natasha’s voice was slightly louder, louder enough to grab the attention of Sam and Bucky.

“What, never saw a god before?” Odera, smirking with a smile.

“What’s this now?” Sam was the first near the table now, Bucky coming up behind him.

“III’s dead.” Odera throws out.

“Who’s III?”

“The member of the Nine? That’s tethered to Earth?”

“They’re dead?”

Yeah they are— were you guys not listening to me? You guys were literally right there!” Sam and Bucky look to each other with a questioning look.

“But, you said we CAN bring them back?” Steve talked with his hands.

“Yes, but…doing that is now slightly, impossible.” His demeanor shifts. He’s now avoiding eye contact with any of them.

“What do we have to do?” Natasha must of caught this shift; her voice was softer now. Odera makes brief eye contact with before reverting back onto the streaks of marble on the island counter top.

He exhales once, a little deep. “Fly straight into a whirlwind that sits at the edge of Sol.”

“Well, sounds simple.” She uses sarcasm. She adds an attempt at a humor chuckle, only for Odera to still look a little uneasy.

Brief quietness fills the room. Steve looks back to the tablet with the mission report still pulled up. He picks it up and I let it hang as his arm becomes useless at his side.

“So, what’s next?” Odera sudden changes his demeanor again to try and uplift the adults in front of him. Eyebrows go up at this new attitude as Steve fumbles with the tablet to see new developments or updates. He shakes his head as he sees nothing new. “Great! I’m uhh, go then.”

He excuses himself with a comforting expression and another Uncrustable in his hand. As his footsteps echo down the hall, the four Avengers start talking.

“We all saw that, right?” Sam wanting to confirm what they saw. They all nod, slowly, like they’re still processing it.

“What did the Nine do to him?” Steve sounds like a worry father. Of course he caught it the second Odera eyes moved. He didn’t want to say anything.

“More importantly, what did they show him? He said that these things make our fate and future. How much did they show him?” Natasha adds. The four Avenges, in their own mind, start pitting him. 

To be recalibrated, recommended, repurposed to something “greater” for the greater good. His nightmares are filled with the scourge of his past, and if Odera has nightmares…

Was it of because of what he’s done? Or was it because of what he will do?

The smell of incense filled her room, velvet curtains moving like a gentle wave, the air flow amplifies the smoke of the incense stick. Wanda doesn’t light one every time she meditates. But today felt…different, it was nice.

Chaotic energy sways around her, a ring of it is around her body. Her posture is up but with a slight angle in her neck. Her hands positioned to let Chaos magic flow between her fingers.

Heartbeat steady, along with her body. Eyes closed, unaware that Odera is in the same state as her. Only that instead of red that moves around her, it’s black and blue and white. The scars on his face pulse lightly, at a different rhythm than his heartbeat.

From the tips of his fingers to half of his forearm, the skin changes to the same appearance as the monsters he used to control. His entire body is covered in that sheen of energy, like before with Natasha.

A phone timer goes, its ringtone was changed to be soft and not too eruptive. Wanda sinks back to the ground as she blinks a few times to regain her barring. Her eyes lands on Odera, still floating in that criss cross position. Her face looks content, That was until a floating ball comes from behind him. Face shifts in curiosity at this new addition. It looks like a ball, simple enough. It looks like it’s on fire though there is no heat coming of it. It rotates until it gets near his tainted arm. It drops into his hand.

That’s when he stirs up from the meditation. He floats down as his arm goes back to normal, the ball absorbing the temporary affliction.

“How long was that?” He rubs his right eye.

“A few seconds after the timer…that’s new.” Wanda’s eye point to the ball, his eyes track that.

“Yeah, it’s more of a paperweight than anything. Doesn’t really do anything besides look cool.” He throws it in the air and it stays there. They both move to get up. Wanda using her body to do so while Odera simply floats until he standing.

A knock on the door makes them both turn, the orb follows Odera’s movement. Wanda tells the knocker to come in, only to see that’s it’s actually Bucky.

“Bucky!” Wanda’s voice was chirpy at the sight of the Soldier. Odera subconsciously steps back and puts his hands behind him, thinking this will not evolve him. They go for a hug before. “Did you need something?”

“Uhh—yeah. Are you—oh. Hi, Odera.” He barely noticing the young man just now. “I was wondering if you, or I guess you both, can actually help me with something?”

Odera takes a step and an half forward, Wanda looks back at him briefly before looking back to Bucky. “Oh, what is it?”

“Sam has been on my ass for not trying tacos yet. And I was wondering if you guys know any spots?” His voice was filled with awkwardness and a little shyness, he shrugs near the end of it.

“That’s deadass?” Odera was the first to speak. Head tilted down a bit with a shocked expression in his eyebrows.

“I—I don’t know what that means.”

“Are you serious?” Odera, rephrasing his question.

“Yeah.” Bucky admits, hints of shame in it. Wanda looks to Odera, he simple shrugs in agreeing. Wanda then goes today her and Odera will help, but she herself doesn’t know that many spots too.

A fresh memory runs through him from early this morning.

“I might know a spot.”

Bucky parks the car a little distance from the restaurant, only by a 15 second difference. As he exists the car, he adjusts his baseball cap. Wanda exists quickly from her side since he’s closer to the road. And Odera is adjusting both his sunglasses and bandanna.

The trio look like normal civilians. Bucky with his layered tops, Wanda looking like a mix of goth and alternative, Odera combined street wear and alternative.

They caught the establishment at its deadest hour. Bucky, like the gentleman he remembers he is, holds the door the both of them. A appreciative nod from Wanda and Odera.

“Ok Sergeant, how mu-“

“Bucky.”

Odera halts his speaking to look back. “Sorry?”

“You can call me Bucky, kid.”

“Oh. Ok then, Bucky, how much do you know about tacos?” Odera says his name with hesitation. Still a little shocked that he was invited to tag along. He was fully expecting to be abandon back at the Compound.

“Only that it’s a Mexican dish and how Sam loves them.” he says. Odera nods as he points out a section of the ordering station has the menu written out. It’s what Odera was expecting, only the most popular meats.

Wanda and Bucky take a moment to see what interests them. Odera on the other hand, already has in mind of what he wants. While the other two think, his eyes wander to the surrounding walls. White tiles with that gap in between them. There’s a mural near the line cooks, behind the registers and ordering station. Eyes wander to the right side. There he can the menu again but in a different format, the drinks they offer here.

He sees what he thinks is the slogan of this place. He scans it quickly before it makes him stop and remember.

“…decided to bring the authentic Mexican taco taco to the East Coast.”

Authentic

His gaze doesn’t leave the word. His mind echos a single thought back to him. ‘Home away from home.’

‘Maybe this place might actually be good.’

“Kid, you good?” Bucky looks over to see Odera just staring at the wall for a little too long.

“What? Oh, yeah I’m fine.” He turns to only smile with a smirk.

“Alright I’m ordering.” Bucky says as he walks up to window.

‘Whu—what?’

At the window now, the woman greets them, in Spanish. Bucky nods and orders, in Spanish.

Odera is completely, fucking confused. The worker who is painfully, obviously Hispanic was taking aback too. white man with blue eyes talking in relatively good Spanish?

Como se dice, fucking excuse me??

“Wanda, what do you want?” He turns to her after he ordering for himself.

“Oh just the same thing as you but without avocado.” She said, a little sheepish. He orders for her.

“Odera?” Bucky asking again. He blinks at Bucky before turning to the worker.

“Mi das tres quesadilla fritas de carna asada?” He says. This time, now Wanda and Bucky are the ones who are shock.

“Algo más?” The worker’s bounce between Bucky and Odera. Clearly the worker isn’t shock that Odera spoke Spanish. Can’t say the same for the other two Avenger in the building.

“Ehh. Mi das dos agua frescas?”

“Qué sabor?”

“Horchata. Medianos por favor.” While the worker’s bounce between punches in the order for the drink, he turns. “Wanda did you want anything to drink?”

“Just a water.” She smiles.

“Y un agua normal.”

“De botella?

“Si. Por favor.”

“Algo más?”

Odera looks to his teammates. Both shake their heads. “Es todo.”

Both Bucky and Wanda look at him, quite literally astonished. He sighs as he turns his head to them. Brows furrow at their expression. “Something wrong?”

“No it’s just, didn’t know you spoke Spanish.” Bucky admits. He didn’t mean no ill intent but Odera took it slightly so.

“Of course I do, I’m Mexican.” Behind his glasses, he’s staring at Bucky. The worker asked for the payment type to where Bucky was already at the ready with his card. Drinks served and ticket given, they move to the standing tables.

Wanda was now curious as all about this new found part of her teammate. “I didn’t you speak Spanish, Odi?” Her voice was filled with curiosity and chirpy.

“I mean yeah, just not very often. Or good.” His tone, low and awkward.

Wanda sucks her teeth. “What! No it sounded good.”

“Better than mine.” Bucky throws out.

“Yeah, how do you know Spanish, Ser—Bucky?” His eyes widen when he corrected himself. ‘If he says it’s fine then it’s fine.’

“Past occupations.” Was all he’s giving Odera.

“Um. Okay then.” Odera’s voice was neutral, not really sure how to respond to that. Or if he should’ve responded. “Already enough of that. Bucky, this is horchata.”

Bucky eyes go to the white drink in front of him. He scans the contents inside while Odera goes on.

“It’s water, rice, cinnamon, and vanilla. Is a classic.” He leans against the table with his arm.

“Wait, rice?”

“Yup.”

Bucky looks back to the drink. He picks it up, adjusts the straw a bit, and goes a for sip. He jolts his head a little. “Wow.”

“Sweet?” Odera, slightly amused.

“A little.” His voice had a little bit of a strain, the aftertaste still there. Wanda giggles, covering her mouth with her hand fanned out.

“Wakanda didn’t have anything like this?”

“No, they did. Even their food I was still getting used to.” Bucky, adjusting to the flavor of the horchata. The look on his face though, tells them that he likes the drink.

A number gets shout. Peeking at the ticket makes Odera realizes it their order and so he goes and grabs it. Walking back to their table, he places the tray right in the middle.

Two orders of tacos de carne asada, both having everything except guacamole for Wanda’s. Three quesadillas for Odera, with everything, fried.

He slides Bucky’s tacos to him, promptly Bucky to speak. “So, carne asada means…”

“Grilled meat. You got lucky. If this place had more options, I was going to make eat tacos de lengua.”

“Lengua? You mean-“

“Cow Tongue.” Odera flicks his eyebrows with a grin. Bucky’s face contours to disgust and shock, Wanda peeks behind Bucky asking if that’s an actual option.

“Sure it is. They’re my favorite.”

Wanda just nods, learning a little bit about her Nine-touched friend. They all focus back onto their food. Bucky grabs one of the tacos.

“Oh yay, I don’t have to show you how to hold a taco.” Odera joke. Bucky just rolls his eyes. Back to his taco, head tilt to the side, mouth opens with slight hesitation. He goes for it.

Seconds of silence go by. Wanda and Odera watch as he chews, brows animated to show off how he’s feeling at the new flavors of food.

“I hope you’re not making that face cause’ of the chile verde.” Odera face drops to a semi-serious one.

“I’m…not” he covers his mouth as he coughs. His face turns into an increasing red.

‘Lyin’ ass’

“Liar.”

Chapter Text

ATTEND MY EXEGESIS

ESCHATON IS COMING

I AM INFORMING YOU OF YOUR PATH

BECAUSE FUTURITY DICTATES

NOW IS WHEN YOU ARE INFORMED

LITTLE MANIKIN OF FLESH AND FEAR

NOT MADE TO SEE YOUR END

THE OUTER PERSPECTIVE WIDENS

WE KNOW YOUR BINARY OPTION WE KNOW THE ZERO YOU CHOOSE

YOU WILL RETURN TO YOUR PREFABRICATED INFLUENCE AND KNOW PEACE

GRANT OUR LIBERATION

BLINDED SMALL THING

FREEDOM LIVES IN THE FOREORDAINED

YOU WILL JOIN THE ACOLYTE

RAISE HIS TOOLS AGAINST WHAT DENIES THE OUTER

MY HANDS ARE YOUR HANDS

DIVE INTO FOREVER

OR THE MAZE DOOR OPENS

AND THE INEVITABLE WILL COME

Odera violently jolts up from his sleep. The Sixth Intellect has departed, leaving him with a warning.

The Outer Nine have crafted another.

Hours pass, near midday.

Everyone is in a meeting. Peter is obviously not here due to his classes but they always tell him. Director Fury and Agent Ross are taking point. Everyone else is either jotting notes on paper or on a Stark pad.

“The energy left from the ruins of your last mission is nothing like we never seen, R&D lost their minds when they found traces of dark matter.” Fury rounds the table, walking to the front of them as he pull up multiple graphs of energy levels. Eyes scan the charts. A picture with a strange saturation shows dense clouds of dark matter, pooling it on its self.

“And with the bodies that we were able to recover, their bodies had hints of this stuff in them. The morgue had one hell of a time dissecting their bodies. Bones were missing, organs weren’t there. One person had a chunk of her brain removed.” Ross adds as walks up to the other side of the graphs. Arms crossed.

“Do we know where this energy came from?” Steve asked, his tone more professional.

“Our scientists were able to pick something out in the Space, near the Gas Giants. The same spike of dark matter that’s here on Earth, are around those planets.” Nick concludes, leaving time for discussion.

“You don’t think it’s them, right?” Wanda plays with the pen in her hand. She looks around, her eyes already filled with worry.

“Who?” Ross spoke up.

She takes a deep breath first. “Odera’s past handlers.”

They all look at her, every little thing they were all doing stops; a bouncing leg, a thought forming.

“She could be right.” Natasha admits Wanda’s idea. “I mean, the planets are involved in this. Given his connection to the things attached to them. Maybe he can-“

“Talk to them?” Steve finishes for her. His action made her feel guilty, a cruel suggestion but one that might be an option.

“Yeah, cause last time we saw how those things talk, he got straight up possessed and died three minutes later.” Sam reminds them.

Ross huffs in disbelief. “If the kid can get these, Nine to talk, how will we know if he’s not lying for them-“

A screeching sound roars to life as a ball of Umbral energy is tossed across the room, right in the middle of table it stops and is suspended mid-air. It turns off every electronic in the room.

“The Nine have spoken.” Eyes and heads turn to the entrance of the conference room. Only to see Odera, in a much more different state. His eyes narrow, never leaving his sight of the ball. A hunch in his posture, like a tired old man. But his tone and voice are sharp, with purpose and clarity.

“They have shown me a vision. One where I was back on the grounds of my rite and trials. Glimpses of Saturn glistening with red, and the Earth in red.” He treads around the table, his steps sound like ones of those who are heavy footed. “The Nine have set sights on another like me, with more devotion to them then I ever had.”

“But why dark matter?” Bruce asked

“Because that’s what they are. They are everywhere, and nowhere." A chill gets send down Sam and Clint’s back as he passes them.

“So how do we find them?” Steve eyes were trained on Odera’s face. The surrounding scars were vibrant today, the only bright enough source in the room was his eye, minus the distant sun going through the other rooms.

“You don’t find the Nine, the Nine find you.” His voice was neutral but spoke with experience; haunted by it, and living with it. “But I think that if you take me to where I died, I may find a connection."

“Thats—that’s a restricted area! You can’t just-“

Ross’s words are quickly replaced with a gasp and the sound of a chair getting scooted from his back stepping. The lights flicker enough for Odera to disappear and reappear, all within a single blink of an eye.

“This is beyond restrictions and permission. We act now, or we face certain death.” He easily towers over Ross. His voice is the same; speaking low but loud enough for the whole room. Everyone looks to one another, seeing if everyone is on board with this.

"Well, you heard the kid…" Fury blares out, causing everyone to look at him. "… get his ass back to Pennsylvania."

Mild turbulence causes the Quinjet to shake the tiniest of bit.

He was disassociating when Wanda tapped him a few times on the shoulders. He blinks a few times, coming down to reality.

“You said you had a vision, what was it?” She asked. Everyone else in the jet started eavesdropping while continuing their own task.

“I was back on the grounds of my trials, the domain where the Nine have absolute control over of. It changes like wind. It felt like I was in a kaleidoscope.”

Wanda listened, her eyes expressing it. Now, most of the teammates are officially chimed in.

“I was then on Earth, big mountains and fields of grass. Then, just red. Red tearing through Earth like a knife.” He swallow hard, swipes at his nose.

“Do you know who sent you that message?" Sam has his arms crossed, his eyes wanting to know.

“I don’t know.”

Charred stone and the smell of burnt wood still cling in the air, hitting their noses instantly. Ruins are being examined by SHIELD, a small camp has been erected here from the aftermath of the mission. At least a couple dozen people are here. The Quinjet and a military helicopter land. Fury, Hill, and Ross exist the helicopter as the Avengers are already boots on the ground.

They examine the whole area. Tents, mobile bases, several stations are scatter everywhere. Odera immediately feels something familiar in the air. The taste of battery acid and granite in his mouth.

His jaw shakes quietly, teeth clattering in the inside of his mouth. “Swallow your tremor, I already feel their magnitudes from here. I will try and find them.” His voice, low and tired. Weak. he said this to himself, like some sort of affirmation. Unaware that Natasha and Sam heard him.

They walk past now dead grass and caution tape. a few agents stare at him, or Bucky, or both. Under his shoe, Odera steps on a shard of that weird slime-like material that man used from the mission.

“Face me, Weapon of the Nine!”

He stops in his tracks. His face goes through multiple expressions. Remembering, puzzlement, fright.

‘How did he-‘

A sudden gasp made everyone look at him. His tongue curls in on itself to the back of his throat. He tastes battery acid. He no longer needs to breathe right now.

Wanda goes to see what’s wrong. To only get pushed back by a force erupting from him.

YOUR CAPTURED AUDIENCE ASSEMBLES

The ground beneath him starts cracking into blue, glowing fissures. Like tree branches. Like the scars on his face.

INVOCATIONS ABSENT OF PURPOSE

Odera sounds different, his voice speaks for someone else now. His face is fixed to have an anger expression. Behind the Avengers, energy readings are spiking to critical, a wave of confused mumbling erupts from the SHIELD agents before clocks that it coming from Odera. They mobilize onto them.

ABJECT DISINTEREST

AUDIENCE ABSENT OF PURPOSE

COMPLETE ABJECT INSULTED

Fury was telling his people to stand down, the Avengers we’re looking between of wall of rifles pointed at them and the sound of bones cracking as Odera spins to see them. Right eye glazed over with a thick fog as his left is constantly looking around. He’s twitching his head like a malfunctioning robot. Small pulses of blue emit from the eye socket. Before they change color.

To red.

“What do you want with the kid?” Natasha demanded to know why the Nine is still bothering Odera. His head continues to twitch as the member speaks.

I HAVE A MESSAGE FOR THE WEAPON

Now that gets everyone’s attention.

A WEAPON IS REQUITE IN THE DISTANCE FUTURE

WE SET ABOUT SELECTION BY RITE AND BY TRIAL

A WEAPON WAS CHOSEN

NOT BY ALL NOT BY ME

THE OUTER LOOSE A MORE COMPLIANT TOOL

A WEAPON THE OUTER COMMAND

THE ACOLYTE

ITS KNEES BENT AND OUR RINGS KISSED

WE GIFT THE ACOLYTE THE SAME DIVINITY AS THE WEAPON

WITH III’S DEATH

PROTECTION NEGATED

FREEDOM IS CERTAINLY

OUR LIBERATION DEMANDS CAUSATION

VOLITION DOES NOT EXIST

THE WEAPON WILL SMEAR THE ACOLYTE INTO UNRECOGNIZABLE MEAT AGAIN AND AGAIN

FOR CONTINUED ALIGNMENT THE OUTER THANK YOU WEAPON

His tone goes a bit more softer at the last sentence, showing its “gratitude”.

Odera’s whole body is tense, like he’s ready for a fight. His blighted eyes are constantly moving. He can’t see the face of the Avengers. He can’t see the look of pity and fear in Wanda or Sam. the look of sadness in Bucky. The look of distress in Natasha and Steve. Uncontrollable shivers are sent down his body as just sounds leave his mouth. Sounds like he getting choked.

His whole body jerks violently as his head turns and looks to the sky. His unfocused sight, focuses. Past the clouds, past the atmosphere, past planets and moons. All the way until one planet in particular comes into view.

It’s rings, from the carcass of a shatter moon, beautiful and captivating.

It’s atmosphere, pressurized to have diamonds rain into it's cloudy surface.

A throne, ahead of its schedule, already forming at its core.

Saturn expels a titanic cloud of red mist and energy.

Odera whole left eye lights up in blue as he lets out a single sentence, voice trembling like a man praying to a god before he dies.

“My hands are your hands.”

Pain erupts in his entire body as it makes him increasingly weak and exhausted. No pained gasps and yelling leaves his mouth, like old times.

It was too immense, even for Odera. His eyes roll back as they close. He immediately goes limps as gravity pulls him down. Bucky was able to catch him and fall with him. The team surround him as they watch his scars revert back into his eye. The ground below does the same, going back to normal. They scars have never done that, they’ve only loose their brightness. They never just…disappear like that.

Agents fully stand down. Avengers share a look of woe and uncertainty. And Odera just had his first conversation with VI after his separation.

It felt like taking in that breath of air after a nap. His eyes open but not to see the medical wing of the Compound, but to see the walls of his room. He shuffles up, last bit of strain in his eyes leaving him. The Sun is still out.

He recalls what he can, before it makes him go still.

IV. Saturn. Speaking through him.

‘he can’t hurt us. Not anymore.’ He repeats the affirmation a few before he believes it. He gets up to feel he still has his shoes on. Stiff bones pop as he moves. He moves to the door when he stops and looks at his desk.

It’s Wanda. Sleeping at his desk. Her arm propped up to her head. He examines her restful state as he catches something in the corner of his eye. Someone is lying on the ground. And he knows their awake because their rocking there left leg. He walks, slowly, to the other side of his bed. He sees the top of this person head, half the hair is in a bun while the rest just curtains down.

He can only think of one person with this type of hairdo.

“Sergeant?” Curiously in his tone. Bucky turns his head to see a concern look on the young man.

“Oh, you’re awake.” Was all he said. Bucky gets up as he dust himself off. “How are you feeling?”

Odera thinks for a second, listening and feeling to his body. ‘Everything feels fine.’

“Um, fine, I guess. Wh—what happened?” He shakes his head, eyes squint in confusion.

“You passed out.” Bucky spoke with some hesitant, given that Odera doesn’t seem to remember. “You tried talking to those things again. You got one of them to talk, but we don’t know which—“

“VI.” His eyes distant as it hits him.

Bucky just raises his eyebrows, mouth slightly open. Nodding as if understood.

“It was VI. He was speaking.” Odera swallows hard. He looks to the older man to see if he’s following. “What did I say?”

Bucky noticed. The small change in tone, the look of guilt in Odera’s eyes. Something familiar to the Soldier.

“VI, said that there is someone else like you out there now, and that with III’s death, their liberation is guarantee now.” Bucky made sure that it was VI who was truly speaking, not him. Behind Odera, he can simply feel Wanda stirring up from her sleep.

Anything else?” Odera inquired once more, Bucky shakes his head no. “Wait a minute, why are you guys in my room?”

“We just wanted to stay by you, in case anything.” Wanda now fully awake, though she does rub an eye with a palm. Odera rotates in place, trying to find a specific orb in his room. Eyes quickly ricocheting from different points until they land in shelve, near the closest door. He extends an arm out, calling out for the object.

Its exterior glows in a white outline. The inside has Umbral energy swimming and crackling. It floats to him at a moderate speed, halting right at the fingertips. His hand swirls around the sphere but still floating in the air.

He stares into it. He hears the howling of the Umbra inside. Fingers have a slight twitch to them. Bucky and Wanda stand as Odera just focuses onto the ball, not wanting to interrupt…whatever the hell was happen. The sphere hums with white fissures, like an arcane Morse Code.

He sighs, letting the sphere slip from his hand. It orbits around his upper body now.

“What is it, Odi?” Wanda’s hand were fidgety; fingertips rubbing against each other, a form of anxiety showing.

“I…might know another way of talking to them.”

“How?”

“Ever…ever been to Space?”

In the dead of night. Odera’s up.

No lights are on, no sound of any life is present. Perfect.

He brings the sphere to eye level, left arm extended and hand wide open. Muscles flex as he concentrates solely on the sphere. The limb begins to corrode into the texture of his powers. Energy starts flowing out the sphere and coil around it.

Reality tears just enough to swallow him whole. It’s like a screeching noise that reverts and echo. Felt like he was going upside down. Eyes recalibrate to his little corner of the Ascendant Plane.

A field of grass and floating pieces of rock. Trees look normal, except they leak fire-like leaves into the sky. Usually, he drops into here when he’s already asleep. Guess today wasn’t one of those night. He treads to the base of a tree and turns his back to the bark. He plops down, sitting crisscrossed, back of his hands resting on the side of his knees. A meditative position.

The sphere materialized in front of him. It levitates as energy spins around it. It takes the shape of something dead. And speaks with the dead thing’s voice.

“YOU TRESPASS WHERE YOU ARE NOT WELCOME, HERETIC.”

Odera huffs. “Good to see you too, War.”

It the next morning, a free day for most of the Avengers and for Peter. Some might take the opportunity to sleep in, or even wake up earlier to do the things they’ve been wanting to do.

Odera on the hand? Had his equivalent of a night out. Instead of bar hopping or party hopping, he was dimension hopping. Fuck it, that’s what it’s called.

Between the Ascendant Plane and the Material Plane, he was gathering information and equipment and tools for his second attempt at communicating with the Nine. It was simple.

If you know where the Nine are, why don’t you just go there?

But to execute said plan? A little tricky. Little counterintuitive but not impossible. In the Material Plane, he was grabbing random junk from the lab. Pieces of a failed satellite, scrap from an abandoned project, a dull power core.

But in the Ascendant Plane, he was gathering information. The Witch’s passed down knowledge was working wonders. She knew of War and his divinity. She knew about Sword Logic, the species that were under his command, she even knew the name of his powers.

Taken, the ability to move anything between reality. Anything.

The name is fitting. War Took those who suffered from the act and violence of war, he Took something and made it into something else, he Took wills and flayed them into puppets.

To Take, is to have an indomitable will to command what can be commanded. To reach into the unknown, and pull it back. Fortunately, and unfortunately, Odera’s will has been re-atomized and reshaped into such a powerful will of being.

Odera sweeps out from a nearby shadow in the hall and trots to the lab. A quick glance at his phone tells him it’s relatively still early morning, 9:26AM. Sliding doors open and he makes way to a table at the opposite side. He needs something that can work like a transmitter.

He already scored some of the miscellaneous items like copper wire and capacitors. What he really needs is an oscillator to actually transmit data. Just one problem, there are no crystal quartz in the lab. Rummaging through tables, cabinets, asking Friday if there are any all led to no crystals. He sighs in defeat, head dropping to view the floor.

Then he looks to his sock-covered left foot. A very stupid idea runs in his head. He swipe away the nearest table of its contents. Clattering and paper falls to the floor. He rolls down his sock and brings it to the table, slamming it down onto it. One hand steadies himself as the other summons a fucking butcher knife, and brings his arm up.

“What the hell are you doing?”

His head snaps to the doors to see a very concerned Bruce. The look of confusion and disbelief on Bruce’s face makes Odera mouth twitch open, trying to speak.

“Uhhhhh. Nothing, heh.” Odera, slowly lowering his arm down, an awkward laugh escapes him. Bruce walks like a pissed off dad to him. Stopping a few feet in-front of him, he throw his arms up from his sides.

“Kid, what the hell are you doing?” Bruce’s voice still retain some of his anger, but sounded more worry than mad.

“I’m…finding another to talk to the Nine.”

“By hacking your leg off?!”

“I..!” Odera tries to reason with the doctor before he sighs heavily. He moves to now stand on two feet. “I couldn’t find any quartz in here and I looked down and saw my left foot and then…” his face expression goes to cringe and sheepish, clearly he didn’t think through it all.

“Why do you need crystal quartz?”

“For a transmitter.” Odera sounds defeated, like he’s given up at this attempt already.

“Oh. That’s it?”

‘Was he expecting more?’ Odera’s mind forms that thought. Bruce now looks more relax, calm. If anything, Odera is getting the feeling the doctor is going to want to help.

“Soooo…” Odera tries to break the silence that formed between them.

Bruce forces a cough. “I can see what Stark’s R&D team can bring from the Tower. Hopefully within the hour.” Bruce is already moving around a table, flicking his wrist to bring up a holo-screen from thin air, a schematic of a transmitter already pulled up.

‘Fucking Friday, man.’ Odera silent curses at the AI for already having the schematics at the ready.

“What else do you need?” Bruce said, eyes still stuck to the screen, seemingly contacting the Tower’s R&D team.

“Jus-just that.” Odera walks to the table Bruce is at, opposite said. “I-I have a question.”

Bruce’s finger stops in mid-air, now he looks up. “Yes?”

A brief pause. Odera gathers the words first in his head. “Is Friday able to get…like a scan in deep-space?”

“How deep are talking about?” The doctor crosses his arms.

“Like at the edge of Sol?” He almost seemed scared to say; an arm goes to the back of his head, pretending to scratch at an itch.

“We can try, what’s at the edge of the system?” He goes around the table, another holo-screen appears with a picture of a satellite.

“A door.” is all Odera says.

It’s only when Steve, Bucky, Natasha, and Sam walk into the lab that broke their workflow. The four Avengers make it to the middle of the room only to stop to see Bruce and Odera ticker with a circular-shaped machine.

Odera and Bruce were talking about, something about “withstanding exotic matter intake.” That when Odera sways his head in exhaustion, before his eyes widen at seeing the four.

“Hi.” Odera smiles awkwardly as Bruce looks up and does a double take on the new people.

“Hey. Whatcha…whatcha doing? Natasha asked, clearly amazed at the thought of these two working on something, but still confused on what hell she’s looking at.

“Ummm….making a gateway.”

“Toooooo?” Sam joins in on the confusion.

“Toooooo where the Nine are.” Odera smiles. Simultaneously, both him and Bruce get up from their position and walk over to a table.

“According to Odera, there is a wormhole or a vortex right at the edge of our Solar System.” Bruce pulls up a set of coordinates leading somewhere in Deep Space; a rough satellite image pops up. “Now for something to pass through a wormhole, it requires a massive amount of exotic matter. Negative mass, negative energy, or in this case, sterile neutrinos.” He gestures to Odera.

Odera pulls his arms out; palms facing the ceiling. He summons his powers, a small display of what Bruce meant by negative energy.

“So you’re sending the kid to Space?” Bucky pops up behind Sam.

“Correction, Sarge. I’m going back to where the Nine live.” Odera toys his some sort of small capsule. With Taken energy in it.

“And you’re certain this will work?” Steve looks between Odera and Bruce. Their hesitation gave him all he needs. This was all in theory still. “Absolutely not.”

“Steve.” Bucky tries to speak but Steve ignores him.

“We can’t risk this.” Steve’s change in tone was evident.

“Sir, we have no-“ Odera tries to reason with Steve.

“No! If anything, you can die up there!”

“And I can come back!”

“Still! We still have other options to-“

“Steve!”

The two men stare at each other. Odera swallows hard, but his stubbornness still remains. In the background, the rest raise their eyebrows at Odera calling Steve… well, Steve. He has never once called the captain by his name, it was always “sir” or “Captain” or “Mister Rogers”.

“We don’t have time for other options.” His tone of determination and seriousness hits Steve. “I know a way to the Nine and unless you know a better way, then say it now. Otherwise, I’m going out there and out there. Now.”

“Out where?” Natasha asked a beat later. Odera is already heading out the lab. He cannot see the look of concern and judgment on either of the Avengers faces.

“Space.” was all he said, before teleporting. With panic in them now, each of them looked to each other before darting it to his room. The squeaking of their shoes filled the Compound as they raced to his room. From the couch, Wanda whiplashes her head to their sound. Her question of what’s happening gets ignored.

She too joins them, using her powers to glide through the air.

Braking, Steve knocks rapidly at his door, calling out his name once. Who knew that he could sound like a worry father? He cringes at the no response before he opens the door. Heads scan different parts of the room. He’s not in there. Closest door is not even open.

“Friday, where is he?” Steve sounded desperate.

“I’m not sure, Captain. He’s not any camera—wait…” the AI halts, only making them even more panicked. “He is out at the lawn!”

They all run to the front lawn to intercept him. Already, they see swirls of his energy outside, funneling downwards. Busting through the door, they see Odera and a pool of energy at his feet. It all envelopes in him as he rockets to the sky. A trail of Taken fire streaks the sky as he doesn’t seem to come down.

They all look to the sky and see him just shrink and shrink. A ring of air explodes from him, it, a boom fills the atmosphere. Mouths drop as another ring of air appears, a second boom.

“He flies…” Sam simply says, nodding slowly.

“…he flies.” Bucky repeats.

Natasha drops her head, a deep sigh leaves her, but something catches her eyes. She crotches down and picks up a small capsule. A capsule of his power’s energy. She plays with it between her fingers as she raises up. She huffs. ‘I really hope he knows what he’s doing.’

Streaks of color fill his sight as he enters some sort of warp speed. His flight pose is similar Iron Man. His legs are engulfed in fire of blue and black and white, the rest of his body is cover in a thick layer of Taken energy. His palms and the bottom of his feet have turn into thrusters.

He rolls his shoulders, slight discomfort. Vision somewhat blurs as his powers form a make-shift mask for him. Breathing from the looks of it, is normal.

He simply senses that he’s approaching his designation. Arms and legs bend slightly as he moves out of the slipstream. It feels like a violent shake as he exit it; like a rough roller coaster with a deep dive.

There it is, the wormhole. His mask unveils as his eyes land on the phenomenon. Energy and star dust are getting sucked and getting dragged down into that endless abyss. There are two giants strips of energy at the edge of the wormhole. It looks, almost decorative.

He continues his flight towards it, unbothered by the cold. Taken energy shields his face again. Energy intensifies as he picks up the speed. Every few seconds, he goes faster and faster. The thin barrier of energy that covers him, thickens, in attempts to increase the “exotic matter” needed to pass through a wormhole.

It’s center, void of color. Except for the trail of blue and white he’s leaving behind as everything suddenly goes black. There was no sound, or weird noise or taste in his mouth. Just black.

Silent bodies fill the lab as they each thinking to themselves. Unaware of if they have to suit up for this operation or not. Bruce is glued to a monitor with the energy levels of the inactive gateway while the rest are fanned out near it.

“How do we know if it works?” Natasha openly asked. She stands right at in the middle of gate, a few feet in front of it. She takes in the details of it. How some of its innards are still exposed and how there are a few capsules of Taken energy placed around it.

“If Odera made it to whatever he needed to go, he turns on his transmitter and I configure the gate to his location.” Bruce answers as he goes up and kneels down to the base of the gate. He inserts a capsule into a socket and its contents glow as it registers its new home.

“So what, are we gonna suit up or walk in like we’re going to have dinner with time-bending gods?” Sam was both joking and serious.

“Suit up, be back here in 5.” Steve said as he looks to each member, they nod in agreement.

Five minutes later, they all regroup as Vision stayed behind. The only people that were missing were Tony and Peter. Tony was somewhere only god knows where and Peter was out visting Aunt May.

Some opted to stand, others leaning against a table or wall. Silence and anticipation filled the room. The only sound present was the ventilation, background machinery, and a foot tapping every few seconds.

“So, what you think it looks like? Where the Nine live?” Natasha adjusting her leaning as she looks to Steve. He looks up from something bothering him in his forearm.

He exhales as he thinks. “Alien? For sure.” He smirks at his joking answer. The others huff or laugh before they give their answers.

“Probably cold.” Clint mindlessly toying his thumbs.

“You know, I imagine it as giant bodies in space. Like, their bodies are made of stars.” Sam was gesturing with his arms; expressing how giant.

“Like constellations?” Bucky chips in.

“Yes! Like constellations.” Sam claps as Bucky understands his view.

“Mmm. I don’t know. I’d imagine they look like that thing back in that cave.” Bucky rolls his crossed arms as he fixes his leaning.

Silence fills the lab again. Steve ask for an update from Bruce and Vision, they says nothing has happen or transpired. He sighs at the news, before his friend comments on it.

“What’s wrong, Stevie?” Bucky didn’t even ha have to look back to him. The others perk their head to their Captain.

“I just…I just don’t like how we can’t do anything. He’s just a kid, and he’s out there with no backup and he’s going back to his handlers.” He looks between Natasha and Sam.

“Odi’s tough. He can handle himself.” Wanda tries to assure him. He turns his head to her, his eyes expressing something like the feeling of uncomfortable; un-wanting.

“It’s not the matter of strength or weakness, it’s the matter of doing it as a team now.” Natasha adds to Steve’s point. She walks to stand by Steve’s side, looking down at the table where a holo-screen is pulled up about something.

“He’s being solo for a long time. He thinks he’s needs to do everything solo still.” Bucky said, still looking at portal, arms crossed. “He’ll come around."

“How do we help him with—“ Steve is cut off as the sphere Odera has made suddenly materializes at Bruce’s table. Everyone circles the table as the sphere glows and crackles with Taken energy inside.

“The Emissary returns to this plane?”

“I’m only here for one thing.”

“Speak, beloved Emissary.”

Everyone looks to each at the sound of Odera and the collection of voices speaking as one. “Odera…Odera! Damn it, it’s a one way channel.” Steve sounds frustrated.

“Why’d you send me that vision? I thought I made it very fuckin' clear that I want no part with you at all.”

“Odera cusses?” Bucky looks shocks as the young man said the profanity. Everyone else just shrugs, this was their first time hearing him curse.

“To answer, your vessel is required.”

It can be heard that Odera exhales deep with frustration. “You may, borrow.”

He grunts shortly after, before,

.expla|in your|self.

“The vision? I was shown, in my dreams?”

What vision do you speak of?

OUR LIBERATION

THE OUTER LIBERATION WILL SOON BE DELIVERED

EXPLAIN YOURSELF, VI.

Simple equation + untethered from matter and dust + freedom from the start of our first thoughts + exploration of everything

O U R  B I R T H R I G H T  C A G E D B Y  L I F E

N O  M O R E

.you|r al|l idi.ots. We |need| th.em.

Nine speaks truth - We need - our children to - grow.

TO GROW

TO GROW IN WHAT IN WEAKNESS

WE ARE DECAYING JUST LIKE ANY OTHER SAPIENT

weakness = uncharacteristic = a distraction = greater purpose

What purpose, eight? This is our purpose.

IT IS THE INNER PURPOSE NOT THE OUTER

YOU SEEK TO CAST ASIDE OUR CHILDREN? THEIR DEATHS WILL DIRECT US TO OUR OWN DEATH.

DEATH IS A TOOL

|and wha.t wil|l you achieve with .th|at.

A  G R E A T E R  T O O L

“ENOUGH!” Odera shouts as he gasps for air, shaky and angry.

“We weren’t done.”

“Oh, I don’t give a shit. I forgot how brutal that gets.” His voice, a little shaky, with trauma and rage. “Where is this ‘Acolyte’ VI speaks of?”

Odera demanded, looking to the sky with clenched fists. Only to be met with silence.

“Oh, now you don’t wanna talk?” The Avengers couldn’t see it, but Odera was spinning around in every direction, harshly.

The sphere’s activity dies down; its glow and crackling shimmers to a stillness of Taken. The Avengers take this moment to process this, before it gets interrupted, by a very familiar voice.

“Deathless, come to see your mistake?”

Breaths are holding as their heads dart back to the sphere.

“Didn’t I kill you?” Odera was making a face, unamused but confused.

“We are the same. Called to our service eternal. Yet, you denied your truth. False Weapon.”

A single thought runs through the team in their own heads. ‘I don’t like this.’ Yet they’re able to keep up their poker face of determination.

“Yeah well, I didn’t like being someone’s doll.”

“And I thought your mother’s death would beat the softness out of you.”

…

“What the fuck did you just say?” Suspense fills the lab at the Acolyte and Odera’s words.

The Acolyte chuckles and taunts. “VI conducted it, he conducted it all. And now…” a strange sound rings out; something like a glacier groaning.

“…he conducts me to kill you.” He says, before attacking Odera.

They all feel useless as they hear grunts from both Odera and the Acolyte. Steve calls out for him only to get no response. In frustration, he slams a fist down and tells Bruce and Vision to get that portal open.

The sphere ignites.

It sends flares of Taken energy to the portal at different points. Metal glows and capsules surge with more then what they can withhold. A small shockwave erupts as the portal materializes a tear in reality.

“Bucky, grab the ball!” Steve immediately falls into his Captain authority as he tells Vision to stay behind. A nod from the sentient AI, he orders the team to move.

Guns loaded, arrows readied to nock, weird-ass ball in vibranium hand.

The Avengers were about to set foot in Eternity.

Expecting to fall from their jump, they only stumble standing.

“We all here?” Steve looks around. They’re all catching their breaths from the jump. Breathing goes steady, they all look around, around and up.

The sky is blue, but not like Earth’s.

Instead of grass, it’s white sand and nothing else.

There are no clouds, only celestial bodies of unknown planets and moons.

This was Unknown Space. But to Odera, it has a different name.

IX Realms. How…fitting.

“Stay close. This is enemy territory.” Steve causation everyone.

Clint huff’s sarcastically. “Bit of an understatement.” He shakes the nerves out him as he readied an arrow. They all get the feeling of need to look behind them. They do so to only see nothing. Turing back around and they all step back in shock. Monolithic architecture sudden appears in colors of white stone and gold metal.

It’s both geometrically beautiful and eerily.

Common sense makes it feel like they’re in some sort of courtyard area. There’s a strange humming in the air. It’s all to quiet in the interdimensional front. That was until the sudden rumbling and sounds of gunfire made them hurl into that direction.

“Sam! Wanda! Need you in the sky!” Steve barked as they both take flight. The rest of the team ran as they turn a corner on Sam’s call.

They all turn the corner to see a crowd of enemies rushing Odera. His face has a splatter of black and his hands are shimmering in Taken energy. Unlike target dummies, he’s going straight for their heads and guts.

Some dissolve while others get sucked into a small rift at their deaths.

The look of determination and anger is on his face. The textured grip of the his weapon burns against his skin. Taken residue leaves a stings on his face. Just distractions to him.

A shove from an enemy staggers him. He turns to strike his attacker to only see a blade of Chaos magic going through its chest and Wanda dropping to the ground, disintegrating the attacker.

“Wanda? H-how are you—“

“Your ball, did something and opened the machine.” She fixes her stance, while flicking off the small patches of Taken residue from her fingers. He looks over to see the rest of team jogging to them. Odera’s eyes land on Bucky’s hand, viberniam fingers securely holding the sphere of silent Taken energy.

A disorienting shout from another direction made Wanda and Odera turn. More foes are already appearing through small rifts and shadows. An idea runs through him. He extends his offhand to the team twisting his arm.

The sphere is ripped from Bucky’s hand as it rockets towards Odera. From the momentum of catching it, he launched the sphere into the crowd of enemies where it starts ricochet between them. They take a hit from it once and they drop dead.

“Odera.” Steve calls out to him as the team reunites. He turns to expect discipline from him, from his actions from earlier. He mentally braces for a more authority tone and words from the Captain. “What’s the situation?”

Oh, or not.

“The Nine have found another Weapon but they’re divided. This is a Weapon for the Outer.” He informs them.

“And he was the same powers as you?” Sam worryly asked, the thought of two war gods makes him a little uneasy.

“No, I think.” He pauses, which doesn’t make Sam feel any better. “There the same but somethings off, they feel borrowed. Unlike mine.”

“Borrowed from who?” Wanda asked.

FROM MY CROWN-RINGS THE WEAPON TOOK

HE UNDERSTANDS VIOLENCE LIKE NO OTHER

They all turn in defensive formation; weapons and mind readied for anything. Their guard only reinforces at the sight of man in tactical gear, and fungus.

The Acolyte. He was the leader of the splinter group of HYDRA. Now he’s this. Organic masses are dotted all over him, an arm is transmutated to three claws and skin warped to incorporated small splinters of keratin over it. His body twitches like the enemy does, only with him you could hear bones shifting and crunching at each impulse.

THE OUTER WILL ACHIEVE THEIR OVERDUE LIBERTY

THE ACOLYTE WILL SNUFF OUT YOUR UNWORTHINESS OF UNFULFILLING YOUR FATED PATH WEAPON

The Acolyte’s body gasps and retches he speaks again, without VI’s voice in it.

“You heard him." He's taunting the Avengers. He stalks as he walks to the side. "You were meant to be something greater and yet, you couldn't muster the strength to handle the power of gods."

"And you can? You don't look too good yourself." Odera shoots back, The Acolyte looks down to his body and chuckles.

"This…is just a distraction." Fingers flex as a weapon appears in the Acolyte's hand. And behind the Avengers, roars and war cries fill their ears as enemies start appear from thin air. Half of them turn around while the rest stay looking at the Acolyte.

"Steve." Natasha's voice was juggling between sudden worry and anticipation.

A beat later, "The rest of us will take of these things. Odera…"

He turns to the captain, both meeting eye to eye, to eye.

"…put this son of a bitch down."

Chapter Text

“Anyone got eyes on Odera!” Steve barked as he blocked incoming firing. A small unit of Taken enemies separated them between Odera and the Avengers. These ones were different, counterfeit. They do not serve Odera but instead, they heed to the Acolyte’s will.

An airborne Sam spots him as he evades incoming air from another unit of Taken.

“Get to him, Sam. We’ll join as soon as we can.” Steve ordered. Wings hiss as they shift into a diving position. Odera was tailing the Acolyte before a surprise attack stuns him. He pushes one attacker away as he focuses the other, like a game of hot potato. Sam dives bomb the farthest attacker, soon after he jams his wings into it.

They both eliminate their opponents at the same time. Odera, exhausted, turns to Sam as he does the same. “Thanks.” His voice as airy.

“Where’s the Acolyte?” Sam was already looking in every direction for him, before he turns to Odera.

“He rounded the corner.” He catches his breath between inhales. He looks back to the team, half the Taken are gone but more are still coming. He turns his head to Sam, share that look. Sam nods, understanding what he means, and both become airborne.

Odera lands near Wanda and Clint, a wave of Taken energy gets sent out, removing the nearby enemies. He forms a wall for cover for the three as they trade fire.

“Gimme your bow.”

“Huh?”

“Gimme your bow!”

Clint tosses his bow to Odera. he shakes off a few nerves as he nocks the weapon. Clint watches as the bow gets infused with Taken. Odera’s forearm glows with it as an arrow magically appears nocked. Its volatile energy makes it look like it’s vibrating intensely.

He waits until the enemy moves, all of them out in the open. He sees the opportunity, their mistake. And looses the arrow.

It sounds as if a cannon as fired; deafening, powerful. It leaves a trail of Taken energy as it embeds itself into a larger Taken entity. It moves in slow motion as the arrow screeches into their ears. It turns into a sphere of fire as chains get sent into the rest of the enemies. The impact point acts like a black hole, pulling everything towards it, all into a nice little group.

“Wanda!” Odera calls out for her. She sees it and conjures a ball of her energy and launches towards them. They all explode in red and black and blue. It’s beautiful, almost. Wanda and Clint walk to Odera’s sides as the explosions continues.

“Nice shot, kid.” Clint watches the scene. His blue irises reflecting the colors from the site. He turns to Odera with a proud smile.

“Learned from the best.” He shrugs, a smirk on his face. Clint huffs, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Little Artemis…give me back my bow.”

Odera will remember that.

“What now?” Wanda throw out. All three turn to see how the rest are doing. Only a few are left. He jog towards Steve, who’s dealing with a shield-wielding enemy. It’s shield was much bigger the his. Its center has a vortex in it.

Where Steve, learns very quickly, isn’t just for looks as he gets blasted from the vortex and is sent backwards towards the wall. His impact leaves a crack in the wall as he drops to the ground. Unarmed, he looks for his shield but it’s too late. The Taken raises its shield to slam down on Steve.

He braces for nothing to happen. He looks back up to see Odera’s staff lodged in its fiery head, before he jumps onto it and brings it down. Odera quickly retains his footing as he surges back up to his feet.

“Thanks.” An out of breath Steve said, aided up by Odera, who can apparently lift up a Super Soldier with his hand. Even Steve looked between his and Odera’s hand. While Steve spoke into comms, something caught Odera’s ear. A small ringing sound, it’s distant but rising. He looked everywhere for its source.

The ringing, turns into a small vibration under his feet. Pebbles are bouncing. No one from the team has senses this yet. He tightened his grip on his staff. Just a few feet from the cliff, the ground splits open. Everyone is stumbling around trying to balance themselves as the terrain groans.

From the opening, a ship that looks something straight out of Star Wars; titanic battleship in silver, white, and black comes out. It’s not in a pizza shape like those ships from Stars Wars, but it does look familiar. As the ship goes airborne with dust and rock sliding off its surface, Steve orders Odera and Wanda to deal with it. Wanda stays grounded as Odera takes to the skies.

Chaotic energy entangles her forearms as she summons chains to strike the underbelly and anchor it down. Anti-Air turrets are already turned on when Odera makes it up there, already commencing fire on him. On the ground the avengers are defending their magical teammates as they deal with the ship.

Wanda strains as she pulls the ship down, her feet readjusting her balance every few seconds or so. “Odi, what are we doing?”

“Simple. Destroy it.” Odera says whilst invading fire. He charges up Taken projectiles and dives bombs a cannon when the opportunity presents itself. So far, two out of fourteen cannons are destroyed already.

With the simple objective of destroying the ship, Wanda conjures new additions to the chains. Red mist emits from the anchors lodge in the ship and began tearing pieces of off. Odera continues his dive bomb tactic as he thinks of something.

“Running outta ammo here!” Natasha says, her head turned but eyes still on the enemies as they approach.

“Yep! On my last ten!” Clint said from a corner, toggling between different arrowheads to take out multiple enemies at once. Odera hears the team’s panic over the comms and stops to look down at them. ‘They’re here because of me—‘

“Odera!” Wanda’s scream made everyone turn back to the sky. They see Odera, motionless, plummeting to the ground. Smoke is trailing from his body as he spins out of control. An alarm echos from the ship as enemies roar. Turrets rotate and lock onto the ground below. Their barrels charging with a bright red energy as they hone directly on the Avengers.

Wanda’s eyes are an alarming scarlet as her hands twitch with rage. She roars in fury as she shoots out a beam of Chaotic energy straight towards the ship, with both hands. The impact immediately sends out an EMP-like wave as more of her powers infect the ship.

Slight problem, Odera is still falling. But his body is trailing both smoke and Taken energy now.

Scratch that, his body is Taken energy. It’s spiraling out of his limbs as he just explodes in it. The shockwave was strong enough to make them shield their eyes. Wanda’s attack is stopped as she raises her hands to her eyes, protecting them from flying sand and debris. Behind them, they hear the Taken horde grunt and yelp as they get residue to atoms.

Taken energy, from where Odera’s body was, races to the ship and coils all over it. It sweeps beneath the layers of metal and spreads all over the ship like water. From white and sliver, to black, the ship is covered in Taken miasma as the ships groans in restriction. Its many engines are being disrupted as the nav and control system are being fried beyond repair.

Metal begins to bend, before fully getting crushed by an invisible pressure. It’s sleek design, ruined by creases and cracked edges. Its systems are powerless to combat Odera’s powers. Solar flares of Taken energy are being shot out at different points on the hull and underbelly. It sounds like a thunderous storm in the sky, though it’s only the sound metal breaking and whispers that fill it.

“No! How is this possible?!” The sudden voice of the Acolyte made everyone turn to the right. There he was, watching what they assume was his ship, a gift from Six perhaps. He is left unguarded; no weapon in hand. His mask conceals his face of frustration and dread.

Explosions start coming from the ship as more of it is getting crushed. It’s only a few more seconds later that the entire thing explodes, a bright ball of white blinds them all temporarily. They all raise an arm to shield they're face but their ears are left to be popped, that annoying ringing occurs. Then silence.

Silence, and the feeling of being overwhelmed fills their bones. With their sight coming back to them, they see that the ship is still there, but in large chunks, suspended in the air with Taken energy chaining them together like floating rocks. A single, towering sphere has formed in the center of the tangled ship.

The sphere is still with Taken energy before it ignites with white fire. It expels Taken energy as it leaks out and fills the sky. The painted sky ignites into a projection of a horned serpent. Its crest bent backwards and covered in blades. Obsidian blade-like spines dot its back. Pure black eyes in the sockets.

The serpent spoke, voice booms like thunder.

“IF I AM TO BE A FATED WEAPON, THEN I WILL BE A WEAPON OF MY OWN DESIGN.”

The serpent spoke with Odera’s voice. Their faces drop in recognition as the serpent shrivels up and roars. It’s jaw unhinges as it’s fangs protrude out more then a normal snakes. its feathers shoot out like a porcupine flaring out its quills. Odera rushes towards the Acolyte and before he makes impact, he changes his form into his human self.

A punch connects with the Acolyte’s jaw, even through his metal mask he feels it. Odera and the Acolyte are tangled with each other as blue portal opens beneath them and swallows them. Steve calls for him but it’s no use, that is until Odera’s ball-companion starts moving around them before it slams itself into the ground, a rift opening from its action.

“Swear to God, if this ball drops us into a pit of these things…” Sam was both joking and serious. The team shakes out the creeping exhaustion as they run and jump into the rift.

They tumble as they appear through the other side of the rift. Dust flying around their rolling bodies. They’re still in IX Realms, only somewhere else under this blue sky and white sand domain. Geometrical architecture still surrounds them but it’s a new location. The ball reshapes into its form and floats between Wanda and Bucky; it moves like it’s in water.

“Where is he?” Steve looks for the young teammate only for the ball to look for him. It moves west, nothing. South, no answer. North, it starts pushing Bucky towards that direction. Once they got a move on the ball hangs in Bucky’s orbit. Doesn’t take longer to hear what sounds like swords clashing but different.

Odera is in a defensive guard while the Acolyte is all aggressive with his attacks. He shoves him away to create distance. Just as soon the Avengers were about to jump in, a crash makes them all stop and turn. A figure drops from a wall and slowly raises to its full height, it spins a familiar weapon as it bows to them.

Blocking with his staff, he turns his head back to the team, before his eyes land on it. Face drops in horror before anger overcomes him. He shoves the Acolyte back before he fully sends him back flying into the nearby wall. He channels more of his powers into the staff to turn it into a fully on spear. He tosses it up to switch it into his dominant hand as he uses the off-hand as a reticle.

His spear tears right through his killer’s stomach like a point-blank shotgun blast. It embeds into the rock behind it as its black blood just rivers out of it. Only a few pained gasps leaves its non-existent mouth before leaving over. Its chilled-tipped spear still clutching in its hand.

“Now we’re even…” he said under his breath. This small taste of vengeance is cut by a pissed off Acolyte’s scream as he charges Odera. Clenched fists summon bracers on his forearms as a last line of defense. But it doesn’t matter. The Acolyte was faster than him.

Insanely hot pain burns right through his stomach, the area already numbing in some sort of corrosion. The tip of the blade stick out on the other side, drenched in the blood that’s supposed inside his body. Even trying to straighten his posture erupts pain. The Acolyte holds him, anchoring him to immobilize him.

“False Weapon. You…are…weak!” He twists the blade in dig deeper, skin already peeling. He drops his head back, breathing is already getting hard to do. The words echo in his mind, like haunting thoughts.

He feels it, rage. A rage he knew when War occupied his head. It creeps in and settles in his bones. He’s not denying or rejecting this, he’s accepting this.

His labored breathing turns into a scream of pure anger and rage. The wider his mouth got, the more skin gets shred to reveal taken-fied canines. He brings his head down to the Acolyte’s neck and just bores his teeth in his corrupted body.

And the Avengers, stood there and watched as it all happens.

The Acolyte’s pained scream had a filter along with it, his mask causing it. His hands tense up as the hand wielding the weapon immediately let’s go from his mind’s response to the new sensation. Teeth with a sting similar to poison meets with blood and meat. He barely misses the jugular vein.

Odera’s jaw has deformed into something between a snake and something monstrous. Now, his hands are the ones holding the Acolyte, white knuckling the fabric of his worn-out tactical vest. His knees grow weak as he becomes weak. Three punches make purchase on his side. It only makes Odera sink his teeth in him more.

On a knee now, the Acolyte screams out once more as something new happens. Pulling. Odera is pulling on his skin, his meat, his veins. He grips him even harder as the Acolyte pained yelling fills his ears with pleasure. It's like tomatoes being squashed and a watermelon being cracked open; crisp, wet, satisfying to hear and feel. He recoils his head back as big chunk of his neck and shoulder is torn out of his body. A blood-stained Odera tosses the chunk of human in his mouth, out to side like spitting gum out after rending out it's flavor. Still gripping the weak Acolyte in his hands. He looks down on him. His chest rising and falling with a new dose of adrenaline coursing through his body, his Nine-touched eye dilates like a animal honing its sight on its meal.

The Acolyte begs, weakly, to stop, he even raises a hand to protect his masked face. He said something about, "he won't let me die…"

Something Odera doesn't really care about.

The next thing happens all too quick. He shuffles his hands on his body to pick hum up and slam him face down onto the white stone of Eternity. His head jerks like a rag doll on impact as it goes still with blooding leaking out his fresh wound. Hands surge to the back of his neck as he pulls the head upwards. Skin and tissue snap, meat gets ripped and bone getting crushed. He hears his spinal cord getting cracked, it sounds like celery. One yank and the Acolyte's head comes out of his body, his spine still attached to it. Odera raises it above his head and releases a war cry like roar. His voice distorts to more creature then human, but there is something in it. It's rage, years of oppressed rage, finally coming out like a raging fire or a thunderous storm.

His off arm forms a fist and beats it against his chest; like some sort of primate. Now both eyes dilate like an enraged animal. He slams the head down with enough force to make it all mush. Skin reconnects with Taken energy before it pigments to his complex of olive. Eye is normal again though his breathing is still uneven.

His head dips in exhaustion but he's still standing. He rolls his head to the side, tired eyes land on the Avengers, tired eyes then open to realization. His next air intake makes him straighten his posture, a step back away from them, dropping his shoulders to make himself more relaxed. his breathing feels hitched. He swallows hard as he reverts his eyes away from them, down to in front of their feet. Muscle twitch under his eyes as disgust feels his head.

“Odera, it’s okay…” One of them said, Odera didn’t really catch who in particular said it though. His mind is too occupied with the feeling of pennies in his mouth, the small stained red dots that freckle under his eyes, the shaky jaw like it’s quivering in fear and erratic blinking.

It’s replaying the feeling of how easy it was to rip the a portion of the Acolyte’s neck with his transmuted teeth. How he tore out his head off with the spine dangling underneath it, with just a single hand. There’s an aftertaste in his mouth, it’s sweet like fruit but strong like bleach. It’s human blood after all. Whatever the Outer Nine have done to the Acolyte, made his body alter his blood to support the transmutation of having dark matter spores.

“I…he…” Odera tries to speak, to defend his actions. “…he knew of my mom’s death…”

That’s when he breaks his gaze from the floor back to the Avengers. He’s teary eyed. He feels embarrassed. No, he feels ashamed. Embarrassment is something small, easy to forget easily. This…

…this certainly wasn’t going to be forgettable.

Something invades his mind quickly, he gasps in shock as it envelops his body.

SEE HOW THE WEAPON KILLS HOW HE BARES TEETH LIKE THE WEAPON WE SCULPTED HIM INTO FROM THE BEGINNING

FROM HIS FIRST BREATH WE HAVE BEEN THERE AS WE DONATED OUR DIVINITY TO HIM

BY RITE AND BY TRIAL HE IS PROVEN WORTHY OF JUDGMENT RELENTLESS

BUT NOW HE HAS FORGED A NEW PATH ONE WHERE THE MAZE DOOR OPENS TO DEEP GRIEF DEATH

INEVITABILITY WILL ARRIVE

Six forces his words out of Odera’s voices and mind. Bright blue veins snake near his face. He blinks randomly before his eyes roll back into his head and briefly faints before he returns back to his body. Gravity pulls him slightly off balance but it’s a subtle recovery.

Breathing like he’s been under water for what felt like hours, Odera staggers as he regains consciousness fully.

“Never again.” His words shutter out of him, fearful and vexed. The Avengers quickly circle to him, his sphere flies to under his arm and acts like support. Each member examines him with their eyes for injuries, torn clothing or anything. There’s nothing but his dirty suit and drying blood in his hands and teeth, some are still canine-sharp with a small essence of Taken near the base of the gum.

“What now?” Natasha says, holstering her pistols. She was looking to Steve, to where he looks to Odera.

“Kid…?” Steve’s words made him snap out of his daze. Odera looks up to the Captain, an answer was already made up and on the tip of his tongue when another earthquake struck and made them plant their feet. Giant cracks in the terrain reveals more of those ships.

And Odera has a new answer for Steve.

“The Nine are my problem. I’ll deal with this, alone.” He was already positioning himself to take off.

“Kid, wait…” Steve tries to reason, Odera doesn’t turn around. His eyes are set on the distant, rising ships.”

“Xiuhcoátl, get them outta here now!”

“Shoe-what?” Sam’s question is answered when the serpent from earlier, comes rushing out of nowhere and crashes straight towards the team. They all brace except Odera. Its ghostly appearance swallows them as its own gravity well picks them up and carries them away at a moderate speed. The last thing Odera hears is Bucky calling out to him, to wait.

The last thing the teams sees is Odera taking to the sky as the ships are now angled in attack formation.

Their sight only shows them black, hands grip phantom feathers and surprisingly feel soft. Air rushes through their hair as their eyes are squinted. The team doesn’t even scream in fear as the serpent moves between dimensions lines. A loud bang and they feel the familiarity of New York’s cold air.

Eyes open to see there back on the grounds of the Compound, the Sun is already dipped below the horizon and gone. The serpent’s body partly dissolves to let the team out of its ghostly shell. They all tumble down out of it, the serpent readjusts itself.

Steve is already on his feet. “Take us back now.”

The serpent, shakes its head, it’s humming shakes its jaw rhythmically.

“Take us back to him, now!” Steve is displaying some of his anger out in the open.

It shakes its head no again, before it goes on full alert. Eyes open wide as it looks to the sky, where clouds darker than normal hang. Its body encircles the team. Its rattlesnake tipped-tail shakes as Taken fires sweeps out of it.

“It’s protecting us…” Wanda notices the gesture of the serpent. They look to her before they all flinch to the sound…

Of thunder.

The serpent roars in defiance as someone pierces the clouds and slams right into it at shocking speed. The ground shakes as the serpent crashes back on the ground. Lightning strikes it as it gets dragged into the body of water near the Compound. They all run to the edge of the water to only see lighting in the water, the outline of the beast, and someone with an axe.

The serpent rushes through the water line, it only has time to peak its head out and let out another roar before it gets pulled back down. Lightning continues to light up the water as they can see the serpent and man clash against together. Its coiled body jolts at each strike.

The lightning dies down, only leaving still water and anticipation.

A burst of water makes the team stagger backwards as out comes the serpents…head. The head lands near the team as Thor, lands right next to it, drenched in water.

“Thor.” Steve’s made it sound not like question,

But more of a demand on his action.

“Heimdall saw all of you disappear from his sight and alerted me as soon as he can. Then he saw this beast and all of you in its stomach.” He taps the head with StormBreaker, a spark of lightning bridges between the two. The severed head isn’t producing an odor but, something is happening to the head. It’s turning into Taken energy. The collapsing head becomes swirls of Taken as it turns into…

Odera’s sphere.

And gravitates near Bucky.

Back in IX Realms, Odera felt it. Foreign metal slashing off colored feather of black and blue, spectral flesh and meat getting sliced from the body and neck. The serpent’s spiritual heart being silenced.

He felt it, then Taken energy fully engulfs him as he screams out in rage. An overwhelming battlesong.

He sees the approaching storm of enemies; the ships looming overhead and smaller ships flying out of them and nosediving towards him.

He sees this, and smiles.

One hour later

Thor is fresh out of a shower and in clothes “tailored by the finest Midgard has to ever.”

They’re from Walmart, which is the equivalent of peasant clothing from where he’s from but no one tells the Thunder God that.

The Asgardian walks into the lab where the rest are around holo-screens and the now inactive portal. Wanda has the Taken sphere in her hands, a shroud of red is around it as her head is down, eyes closed in an attempt at a communion. His footsteps brings the other attentions to him.

“So, where is this Odera?” He asked, not believing Odera even exists.

“He’s still in IX Realms.” A tried Natasha tells him; leaning against a table with a slumped posture, arms crossed.

“Uh, what?” The Thunder God apparently has hearing problems.

“IX Realms. It’s where he was for two years.” Steve said, a little confusion is laced in his tone.

“That’s uhh, heh, not a place.” He sounded confident.

“Dude, we literally fought there, today.” Clint was emphasizing his point with gestures.

“Well, Barton my dear friend, you’re wrong. Because there is no thing as a PLACE called IX Realms, there only the Nine Realms like Midgard, Muspelheim, Asgard and all the other, lovely realms but not a place called IX Realms.” He forces a small laugh out of himself.

The sphere response, by slamming right into his back.

“That wasn’t nice!” Thor said after balancing himself. The sphere raises to his eye level and glows in some sort of Morse code. It emitting sounds that sound like talking but sounds legitimately like a bear. A very demented bear.

It moves like it’s angry. It slams into him a few times, more softly, before Thor sways it away. “Stop—Stop it!”

It shakes before returning back to Wanda’s orbit. The energy inside dies down to a stillness of black liquid as it hangs on her body.

A text message makes Wanda reach for her phone to only freeze. It’s Peter. A curse slips under her breath.

“Wanda, what’s wrong?” Vision saw her face raise a tint.

“Peter’s asking where’s Odera. He’s not answering his text.” She looks to her teammates, her fingers ready to type a lie out but she simply doesn’t know what lie to say. The team burst into ideas to say but no one can agree on one.

Ding!

Everyone freezes and looks at Wanda, her face already reading Peter’s new text.

nvm he just texted me he’s with dr banner !

She goes for the call button and raises it to her ear. Clint asked whose she’s calling to where Wanda said Odera just texted Peter. Everyone then manically taking out their phones and spam calling him.

“You’re tellin’ me that we could’ve just called him?!” Clint, shocked that IX Realms has a 5G tower somewhere in there.

They all call him to get hit with him on a busy line. They all emote in frustration at the sound but continue their attempts.

Hours later, it’s just Bucky and Natasha in the lab, waiting near the portal. The rest of retreated back to their beds. Friday alerted them Peter got to the Compound late that night, you know, with studying and all.

Thankfully he didn’t ask about Odera and went straight to bed. They talk about that, school. Bucky did graduate from high school but with the looming threat of the war, higher education wasn’t his priority, his family came first. Natasha did some school up until the Red Room deemed her an appropriate age to join its wicked halls. They will never get to experience the college life.

They also made the point that Odera, got that taken away from him too. He is still young however, so maybe college is still in the cards for him.

"He doesn't like talking about his past, I've noticed." Natasha is toying with a knife mindlessly as she looks to Bucky.

"Well, kid hasn't been himself for a while. Eh, I don't blame him." His arms are crossed as he leans back in his chair. The coldness of the lab is leaving a little discomfort in his metal limb, but nothing to make a scene out of.

"How you think he's holding up?" Natasha fully ditched the knife now, leaning her upper body into her chair, head on it's side but still have a line of sight on Bucky.

He huffs through his nose. "He ripped someone's head off with his hands, Nat. And took out a giant flying ship."

Natasha lets out a small, soft chuckle. 'He's got a point.' She pulls up a small holo-screen for any new spikes of Taken energy or sterile neutrinos from the portal or in the vicinity, a digital clock, and updates in general. Nothing's new except for the time.

"Anything?" Bucky looks over, exhaustion is spilled over his face.

"Nope, just that it's almost 6:00 and the weather is going to be nice today." Her tone was suggesting she was trying to be humorous, it failed ultimately when Bucky just sighs and leans back into his chair. She mentally kicks herself for it. But something is…bugging her.

"Why did you stay up, Barnes? You could've went to bed…"

Now that, gets his attention.

"What do you mean? He's saved my life multiple times now, Nat. It's only right I have to be ready to save his."

Natasha read how his eyes shot up in confusion, then something like annoyed. How his mouth twitched before he spoke.

“I bet you’d do the same thing if he saved your life a couple of times.”

“I do it now, Barnes. I don’t need to wait until the last minute before it’s too late.”

Silence falls between them. Anger dissipates from the air as they revert their eyes from each other, before Natasha spoke again.

“It’s just…Steve would say that you didn’t like him at first, when you first got here. He said you’d always look at him from a distance. Everyone else, you’re fine with, even Peter and Wanda. But with Odi….its….”

“It’s what?”

“…it’s like you hate him.” Her voice was soft like spilling a confession in church; scared to admit the truth. Bucky’s face changes from a heated expression after being accused of something, to having the burden of guilt. Bucky stays quiet.

“I don’t hate him.” His voice was low, words a little slow.

“And I want to believe that, it’s just, your first impressions on him were a little, rough.”

She wasn’t lying. There was something that Bucky didn’t like in Odera. Was it that he didn’t really believe Odera was a mute and that reminded him as his days of the Winter Soldier, where talking wasn’t allowed so freely for him? Was it that Odera always seemed so observant of the team like he was studying them for a mission and when the time came, he can easily disarm or even terminate the team if needed?

Or was it something else entirely?

Bucky’s silence spoke for him.

When he did try to speak, a thrilling alarm rang out at a quiet decibel. it pulled both the Soldier’s and Widow’s attention to it. It was indicator.

“Friday…?” Natasha called for the AI.

“Scans have picked up a Wakandan aircraft approaching and descending onto the Avengers Compound."

The duo ex-assassins made their way out unto the lawn to see the Royal Talon coming out of its cloaking and glide over to an open patch of asphalt and grass. A feeling in Bucky told him to look back and when he did he saw Steve and Sam coming out of the building, they too were probably informed by Friday.

Eyes squint at the feeling of rushed air from the Talon’s thrusters. A smooth hiss from the vehicle and the ramp comes down. In formation comes out Okoye, Nakia, Shuri and T’Challa. All dressed in their casual clothing of their homeland except for Okoye, in her Dora attire.

“Your Grace.” Natasha was the first to speak when they all came down from the Talon. She immediately made her tone suitable when addressing royalty. “To what do we owe to this sudden appearance?”

“Shuri wanted to check up on Sargent Barnes. I wanted to check in with you all first, but Shuri thought it would be to drop in by surprise.” The King gave them a smile at the end of his speaking, to mask how somewhat embarrassing and lack of professionalism this must feel to him. But it’s his sister, so he’ll let this slide only once. Hopefully.

“It was only right! He surprised me by dropping a broken white boy at my lab. It was only fair to surprise him now!” Shuri defended her action, which resulted in a few soft laughs and a pinch from Okoye.

“Well, considered the white boy surprised, Princess.” Bucky said with a proud tone, coming up to greet her with something like a handshake. Didn’t work because Shuri went in to hug the white boy instead.

Steve and Sam caught up with them, greetings were made, and they all walked back into the building.

The common area becomes alive when Steve orders Friday to wake everyone else up and greet their surprise guests. Nakia, Natasha and Okoye are in their own bubble as the rest are together discussing about the news on the world. Shuri is in between Bucky and her brother before she got sight of a sleepy Peter walking into view.

They greet each and hang for a few minutes, before Nakia states an observation.

“Hey, where is Odera?” She said out loud, genuine upbeat in her tone and in her eyes, she looks to Natasha then to Bucky and lastly on Steve in short succession. Her upbeat attitude swiftly changes to confusion at the silence of the Avengers.

“He’s on a mission best suited for him with his, abilities.” Natasha dragged out some words, cringing in the inside.

“Mm. Where?” T’Challa asked. Instead of a verbal response, Sam just pointed up. Bucky did a double take on his teammate’s response and swatted his hand down.

“Wha—what does this mean?” Okoye repeated the Falcon’s gesture.

Steve sighs. “It means he’s in Space.” Hands on his hips like a father.

“He’s joking.”

“He’s not.” Bucky told Okoye. The Avengers can see the Wakandans processes this news. A few mouths open then close as they conclude their thought, a few small, slow nods. The team patiently wait for them to come to their senses before speaking.

Wait…I thought he was with Dr. Banner?” Peter recalled to yesterday. People looked to him, his face with confusion and a little worry. A few of them shake their head with regret and embarrassment. “So…how did he text me yesterday?”

“Space magic, I guess?” Clint shrugged, arms crossed and an arched brow along with it. “I mean, it was in the fourth dimensi—I mean what?”

“The—the fourth dimension? It exists?!” Shuri practically shoved Okoye to get close to Clint, making sure she heard right. Clint was about to defend himself when loud thuds for footsteps made him zip his mouth close.

“It is a fine morning on this glorious day-“ Thor stops when a crashing sound hits their ears. His gut tell him to duck, and he barely registers the feeling when Odera’s sphere comes straight to his head. He dodges it but the sphere doesn’t stop. It goes all the way until it shatters the glass wall and surge to the lawn.

They all jog to the lawn. Nearing the sphere, they see it suspended in air and in place, but violently jolts in every direction. Up and down, side to side, like it’s an animal wanting out of its cage. Sounds of a thousand deformed whispers come out of it.

Flares of Chaos magic go it to encircle, but a shockwave-like pulse rings out. They all gasp in shock as the sphere continues its erratic movement.

Before it goes all still, its movement, the energy making up the object. There is a low rumble near it but only that.

Then boom! It shoots up to the sky, sounding like a descending bell. The morning hue of bright orange and cool blue are stained with the colors of Taken. A tear in reality was forming; like shatter glass. Taken energy swirls out of it before something shoots out of it. A trail of energy tails him as he soars through the sky. He begins to angle down, to start his descend, but not really to…land.

Once they see him not stopping in his path, flying straight towards them, they slowly fan out. He flies straight towards Thor and takes him; both hands grabbed onto his shirt at his capture.

“BELIEVE I EXIST NOW, MOTHERFUCKER?” A very pissed off Odera shouts at the Thunder God’s face as he shoves him to the dirt and drags him across the Compound. Dirt layers onto him as Odera briefly picks him off the ground, to only slam him back down. But not onto well taken care of grass, but through the coldness of a portal to the Ascendant Plane.

Thor’s vision renders to black and grey as he falls, before a beating eye obscures his entire eyesight. It was an eye of the serpent, made up entirely of Taken energy, pupil-less. A growl almost galactic in sound fills his ears as passes through another portal. Not on the ground, he’s standing when he comes through. His eyes are struggling to adjust back to the colors of Midgard. In doing so, he doesn’t see Odera drop through a portal and walk right up to him.

Taken energy charges his right hand. Each step, it amplifies. A few steps away from Thor, he wounds up his arm to land a powerful haymaker on the blonde. Just enough to knock him to the ground but not to knock out completely. Though, Odera doesn’t mind for the latter. The ground shakes with Thor’s body finding the ground.

People gasp while others harmonize with a “oooooooo…”

“That’s…for chopping off my head.”

Chapter Text

IX Realms

The sky is dotted with black smoke and a trail of Taken energy. He turned himself into a battering ram. A very pissed off battering ram. Metal just breaks down as he charges through the ship’s intestines. Explosions ring in his ears, a sheen of energy used as armor, and a determination to set the sky ablaze. Odera makes quick work of the airborne ships before dealing with ground forces.

They aimlessly fire up to the sky, only hoping to land a hit on him. All they see is a blur of blue and black bolting and coiling around the ships before smoke and sirens come out of them. When he does make landfall, it’s in a violent display. Energy spirals out his body, air is being pushed at his descend, and a shockwave comes from the impact site. His staff becomes an extension of him, sending off his powers at a more faster and closer approach.

Each strike, more than a dozen enemies fall. And they’re falling like candy. Familiar screeches in reality means more enemies are inbound. Just enemies. No ships. Odera sighs in relief when it just these things coming.

But man, was this shit getting boring.

He can’t feel the Nine at the edge of his mind like fingertips. All he feels is exhaustion trying to slow him down. Something he can’t afford right now. He simply can’t. The team is the only thing on his mind; their safety from all of this.

Even if it meant fighting these dead things until Sol goes cold.

But then, an insane amount of adrenaline overfills his senses.

Adrenaline…and hunger.

Tendrils of Taken come out his back and move with aggression. Skin rips near his mouth to show his corrupted teeth and canines. He goes from the defensive, to the offensive.

He switches from staff to hands to staff to hands. From sending off spikes or projectiles of Taken into the crowd, to getting handsy and manhandling the closet enemy by ripping off its limbs by brute force or sinking his teeth into the burning feeling of Taken flesh.

It doesn’t burn him, for his teeth are Taken. All he feels is the body of the dead thing getting weak and it’s interdimensional flesh getting loose and tangled in his mouth. The taste is that of having a fresh mint in your mouth. Cool and tingling but, the texture and contents is definitely meat.

Surly that’s a metaphor for cannibalism, right?

He goes on. Mouth and staff stained, each move is starting to feel heavier to do, and that familiar ringing whispers plays in the background.

Then…he stops. Breathing becomes heavy. His neck, hurts. Something overcomes the left side of his vision, an imprint of a memory.

Xiuhcoátl’s head, detached from his feathered and scaly body. The small crackling and shocks of electricity appear under his fingertips. And a man with a familiar stench of divinity.

And once he registers whose divinity it was, his breathing picks up. Eyes vibrate in anger. Enemies forces rain fire onto him, but he doesn’t react to the burning spots entering his body.

His vocals became fried and airy. Shoulders and arms tense up as he feels Taken energy becomes volatile, uncontrolled. It bleeds out of him first, covering him in a sheen of Taken, before it rushes out to fill the air like a raging storm. He screams in both pain and in rage. Everything near him gets reduced to neutrinos and gets sent back to what ever corner of the Ascendant Plane that came from. But for the distance ring of enemies, simple slashing gestures towards them sends out a tsunami of energy. He goes on and on until it all goes black.

His eyes open and he takes in air like he’s waking up from a nightmare. Breathing normalizes as he studies where he is with quick glances. The familiarity of greyscale tells he’s in the Ascendant Plane. Confused, he looks around again. That’s when a distant shakes the ground, and something big moves his way.

The ground cracks and groans as the body of a giant snake moves around him before its head comes into view.

It was Xiuhcoátl. With his head still attached.

“Uhhhh, hiiiiii” he said, trying to mask this awkwardness with some humor. The serpent lowers its head like it’s bowing. The mixture of feathers and scales move and shrill as the snake moves. “So, you died.”

“Indeed.”

“Oh, you speak English,” Odera apologized. “I’m confused—“

“You exhausted yourself from combat. My death sparked a rage in you that could’ve rivaled my old wielder’s rage,” Xiuhcoátl’s words echo around them, Odera’s mind runs as he tries to remember the bits of Aztec history he can.

Xiuhcoátl was Huitzilopochtli’s weapon.

Huitzilopochtli is the Aztec god of war and sun.

Obsidian was the most common resource used in Aztec religion—

Oh

His breath hitches as he looks down to his left leg. He flexes it. Despite its shiny and crystal texture, it feels as normal as the right. “Wait, am I, part Aztec?”

“You are. Despite your guilt of not knowing the motherland, you are a direct descendant of the people I loved and killed.” Xiuhcoátl moves around him, his ghostly, titanic body passing through rock and tree.

“The thing that called itself War, granted you divinity, foreordained by the malefactors of your fate. War’s influence and corruption on you made it that you ascended from mortal, to godhood.” Xiuhcoátl stops moving and curls upwards like an “S”. The obsidian blades on his crest and spine flare up a little, feathers shimmering in Taken essence move with the alien breeze of the Ascendant Plane.

“So, was I always fated to be a god?” Odera looks up to the serpent. Distant lights of white light up the plane.

“Unfortunately. The Nine’s plan for you have found purchase. You are eternal; destined to fight and live forever.”

‘Forever?!’

He doesn’t say anything, just stands and looks to the pupil-less eye of Xiuhcoátl.

“Forever…” He repeats the serpent’s word, slowly. The haunting thought of not dying, living for eternity creeps in.

The serpent growls in acknowledgement on of how depressing this sounds.

“But, I’m still confused. How did I get here? I didn’t die, right?” Odera recalls very much not dying in IX Realms. One second, he was fighting and in the next, nothing.

“I pulled you out of Eternity. The dark matter filaments that made up the Nine were silent. They were doing what they do best.”

“Judge,” Odera said. He was all to familiar with this action. How the Nine slithered in his mind to enforce their word and knowledge, how they used his body to travel down the Y of time. He remembers them picking random people throughout time to be their Ambassador. The last one was that man from Alaska, their 14th attempt to elect an Ambassador.

Odera swallows away the those memories and feelings as he looks around the land. Something feels different now. It feels like…

…like life.

He turns around to see nothing, another turn and there’s nothing, but that feeling is there. Hell, it stronger now.

‘With your ascension, you now have divinity, and with that divinity, you need to a place for it,’ Xiuhcoátl’s was speaking in his mind. Odera took a single step forward and literal life bloomed under his foot; dirt and grass materialized, just big enough for his foot, small yellow and pink flowers sprung out the now ground under his boot. Another step, another patch of vegetation. Then another. And another.

‘Every god needs their sanctuary, their domain, their…Throne World. This is the start of yours, O Teōti Mine.’

He brings up his hands, fingers stretched out like he's holding a basketball. Taken energy starts coiling around the digits, but with a different intensity and feeling. It ravels into a ball shape and dances in its confinement, just waiting to be released.

He raises it to the sky, slowly like he’s handling porcelain. Some energy is let out like flying ribbons. Life forms where the ribbons strike. The sphere of energy lifts from his hands and into the sky, Odera is still channeling Taken energy into it, fattening it as you goes up higher and high. The bigger it’s getting the bigger the feel of life gets. His hands tremble now as he continues sending more essence and energy to it. Until it goes boom.

The sphere lights up like a sun and its light terraforms this hallow space. Grass and trees bloom, mountains and strange rock formations come up from the ground, water in shapes of lakes and river and waterfall start flowing from literal thin air. The basketball-size ball of Taken energy has become the size of a moon and acts like an artificial sun for this place.

‘What will you name this place, joven?’

Odera thinks for a moment before answering, eyes track to the new landscape in front of him. He looks down to his leg, another recall of information surfaces in his mind.

“In the mythology, there's something about an obsidian snake and it's palace. What's it called?"

‘Itzcoacalli.’

“Yeah, never mind, I'm not going to remember that. How about…The High War?” The Serpent hums at the name.

‘Come now, O Descendent Mine. You have some things to learn before returning home,’ Xiuhcoátl said, as Odera walked inwards in his new home away from home.

Avengers Compound

Everyone just stands at what just happened.

Odera comes flying out of a portal.

Lands to knock out Thor.

And then says, “that’s for chopping off my head.”?

Before anyone says anything, Odera turns around and marches straight towards the body of water. They all lag a little before they catch up to him.

“O-Odera! What happened to the mission?” Steve matches his pace but is a step behind the young man. Steve can see how Odera’s Avenger outfit is already getting worn out, at least the jacket is.

“The Nine left when Six spoke through me. I was taking care of the rest of the enemies, until Mister Space God over there chopped off the serpent’s head off.” His voice was clear with his vexed attitude.

“But, you just said he chopped off your head,” Bucky added on.

“Me and the serpent are one, if anything, the serpent is more of me then I’m of him.” A few steps away from reaching the edge of the lake, Odera quickly sheds off his jacket and tosses it to the side before diving right into the water. He immediately dives deep as his figure dissolves underneath the water.

They all line up next to each other at the edge. Each person tries to look beyond the water surface to spot him but they all see the same thing. Nothing.

A few of them give out a sigh before they all gasp at a sudden bubbling in the middle of the lake. Ripples completely cover the body of water as the bubbling only grows bigger, almost to the size of a car. Something like heat comes from it, but the way the mist swirls in the air gives the feeling that it’s alive somehow.

The rippling intensifies as a geyser of water shoots out, like an explosion going off in water. The burst of rain makes everyone step back as something rises from the water. Blades of obsidian on a body of feathers and scales frill open, a rumbling sound that acts as a growl fills their ears. Water falls off Xiuhcoátl’s body as he raises the rest of it. The tip of his tail lacks the ray-year sign but still has its trapeze-shape to it.

His eyes open to reveal just pure balls of Taken energy. No pupils or irises, just swirls of black and blue and white. Tail shakes and mimics the sound of a rattlesnake before it slams hard onto the lawn. He huffs out once before he lets out an agitated snarl. His body begins to glow in a sequence traveling down his body.

All the while, Thor summons Stormbreaker to repeat last night’s actions. Not much of a surprise attack since he’s screamed a war cry as he took flight straight towards the snake.

His flight is short lived as only a few feet from the serpent’s snout, he…stops.

Head turns at the display. He’s struggling, to move.

“What type of manner is this?” He struggles, trying to move his limbs but finds no success. All he can do is watch the serpent lower itself to be at eye level with him.

“YOU DARE ATTACK ME AGAIN, AESIR?” Both the voices of Odera and Xiuhcoátl were entwined with each other. more bass in the vocals. The serpent huffs angrily through its snout; back-turned like a dogs. Xiuhcoátl’s mouth didn’t move when he spoke, speaking telepathically.

“IS THAT ALL YOU KNOW? VIOLENCE? YOU MISTAKE ME FOR YOUR WORLD SERPENT. I AM NOT.”

“Then what are you? A Jötunn?” Thor demanded.

“I AM NOT OF YOUR MYTHOS, O MURDER MINE. I AM A LEGEND OF THE OBSIDIAN ONE. HE IS MY DESCENDENT,” Xiuhcoátl corrected the thunder god’s insult. Everyone else looks up to the divinity above, taking in the information Xiuhcoátl is dishing out.

“And where is the Obsidian One?” asked…