"You want to fight him here, in the heart of New York City?!" Ben asked, looking at me in bewilderment. His eyes were wide with surprise, and his eyebrows shot up so high they seemed to disappear under his cream-colored cap. "Stretch, have you lost your mind?!"
At that moment, we were inside the Fantastic Machine, slicing through the air like a metallic beast, heading to meet Nick Fury. The exterior of the machine gleamed under the morning sun, and its engines emitted a monotonous hum, creating a sense of inevitability about the upcoming meeting.
"Water is Namor's element; he's stronger there than on land," I began, trying to remain calm despite the tension that gripped me. "Meanwhile, we're not as strong in the water; in fact, we're quite the opposite."
My words hung in the air like misty clouds, concealing the impending storm.
"Well, I burn just as well underwater as I do above it," Johnny said, smiling so broadly his grin seemed capable of igniting the very atmosphere around us. Mischief danced on his face, and his eyes sparkled with anticipation for the upcoming challenge.
We had indeed tested Johnny's abilities underwater, and after numerous experiments conducted in various conditions—from sunken ships to deep-sea volcanoes—we concluded that he could indeed burn like a beacon, cutting through the dark water.
"But what about the rest of us?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in doubt and addressing the other team members. "Ben, in his rocky form, isn't exactly a great swimmer, not to mention Namor moves underwater as fast, if not faster, than he does on land."
My words carried enough weight to be considered seriously.
"There's also the matter of the osmotic cannon," I said, pointing to the hefty weapon. "Its effectiveness would be nullified underwater."
"But what about collateral damage?" Susan asked, her voice soft yet decisively firm. Her concern for the city's safety and its residents was evident in every word.
"That's where Fury comes in," I replied with a slight smirk, trying to inject some optimism into our serious discussion.
At that moment, as the sun began to reach its zenith, painting the sky in unique hues of dawn, we arrived at our destination. The meeting place with Fury was located away from the bustling city center and out of sight of curious citizens.
The Fantastic Machine, a marvel of engineering, easily crossed a masking barrier that to the untrained eye appeared as a mere shimmer in the air, like a heat haze over a desert. But once we passed through it, we were greeted by a scene worthy of the pages of a science fiction novel.
A group of operatives, dressed in uniforms that seemed to blend with the environment, went about their tasks with such concentration it seemed they noticed nothing around them. Beside them were devices and technologies decades ahead of civilian science. These machines, with their unusual shapes and blinking indicators, created the impression that we were on the threshold of a new era of discovery.
The atmosphere around us was filled with anticipation; every sound from the equipment, every rustle of the operatives' uniforms, added a vibration of tension and expectation to the air. Yet, despite all this, there was a confidence in our abilities and a belief that we could face the challenges ahead.
Here, at this secretive base, a significant group of operatives had gathered, their names known to anyone even slightly interested in the world of superheroes and special agents. Alongside Nick Fury, with his ever-watchful single eye, were notable figures such as Maria Hill, his loyal right hand, Natasha Romanoff, the master of espionage and combat known as the Black Widow, and Clint Barton, whose sharp eye and arrows never missed. Each of them, with their unique stories and skill sets, had come together to discuss the impending threat.
However, Fury intrigued me the most... Thanks to my current abilities, I could sense the metal inside his body... Before me stood not a living man.
"I can't say the same," I replied. "Let's skip the formalities and get straight to the point, specifically Namor McKenzie."
"I see why you're not invited to parties," Clint Barton muttered, his voice carrying a friendly tease. He stood slightly aside, smiling as if anticipating the unfolding conversation.
Fury simply nodded in response to my words.
"I've reviewed your plan," he finally said, his voice deep and confident, leaving no room for doubt about his resolve.
This was not surprising, but rather expected. Fury was always a step ahead, anticipating the moves and decisions of both allies and adversaries.
"And what have you decided?" I asked.
The question was only to gauge Fury's reaction, for in reality, I knew he would accept the plan, as it provided him with many valuable tools.
"It's a solid plan," Fury said, his voice sounding approving, but his face remained an impassive mask, revealing no emotion. It was his trademark style—to always keep his composure, regardless of the circumstances.
This intrigued me.
"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to conceal my surprise and a slight dose of skepticism. According to my calculations, the chosen location was ideal—its topography and position gave us a tactical advantage I could only dream of.
"That location is not suitable. I can't tell you why," Fury said, his voice tinged with regret, as if he himself was not pleased with the turn of events.
His gaze told me everything. Most likely, there was a state facility at that location, well-hidden.
The tension in the room was palpable; everyone exchanged glances, trying to decipher what could have made Fury reject such an apparently perfect plan.
Natasha Romanoff watched the proceedings with a slight smirk, Maria Hill looked cautious, and Clint Barton seemed ready to propose his alternative.
"Do we have any other options?" I asked decisively, seeking a way out of the situation, aware that time was running out and we needed to act swiftly and effectively.
Fury nodded and said, "This area..."
= Some Time Later =
The area Fury suggested wasn't far from the previous location.
After numerous issues were resolved, it was time to prepare the battleground.
"Director Fury, have you positioned your men around the perimeter?" I asked Fury.
"Yes, Dr. Richards."
"In that case, activate the Net."
The Net—several dozen devices that, when combined, performed multiple functions: creating an enclosed battle arena and harnessing the energy from the water mass's movement, thereby reducing the tsunami.
—//—
"Begin," Fury commanded into his earpiece.
In the next second, as if responding to his order, the space before his eyes came alive, transformed.
Numerous Quinjet fighters, metallic birds of the era, powerful and unyielding, soared into the sky with the characteristic roar of their engines. They descended to a level almost tangible to the naked eye, their silhouettes starkly outlined against the pale sky, heralding the coming storm.
"Falcon-1 ready," came a clear, decisive voice.
"Falcon-2 ready," echoed another voice, no less confident.
"Falcon-3 ready," the tone carried readiness for action.
"Barton ready," Clint said with a smirk.
There was playfulness in his voice, but also an unwavering confidence in his abilities.
Each of these acknowledgments was like an oath, a confirmation of their readiness for battle, for heroism, for the trial that lay ahead. They were not just voices in the ether; they were heralds of determination, embodiments of fearlessness and dedication to their cause.
After all the pilots had spoken, the moment arrived. Time to execute the plan.
"Fire," Fury's command was like a verdict.
BAM
Numerous advanced missiles, like birds seeking freedom, launched from their nests. Their flight was swift and relentless, filled with deadly purpose.
Their target was Namor, or more precisely, his trajectory, which cut through the space menacingly, presenting a threat. Everyone knew well that Namor could evade the missiles, but he wouldn't be able to maintain his original course all the way.
Fury's gaze was fixed on the map showing the trajectory of the King of Atlantis. Just a few minutes ago, the trajectory had Namor heading straight for the center of New York, but after numerous missiles... the current trajectory led Namor directly to the arena.
"Mission accomplished," Fury said. "The rest is up to you, Dr. Richards."
=Reed Richards=
"Understood," I replied, looking at the wave looming ahead.
Thanks to the device and my sense of metal, I knew Namor was approaching. His power and speed filled the air with anxious anticipation.
"Get ready," I said, looking at my family.
Over the time spent with them, it was hard not to consider them family.
"I was born ready, Stretch," Ben said in his rocky form.
Johnny, like the embodiment of fire itself, transformed into his fiery form and soared into the sky, leaving a trail of sparks and heat. His laughter echoed in the air, like a challenge to the elements.
"The most handsome member of our team is ready," he said, his voice light and carefree, but every movement was filled with confidence and skill.
Johnny's older sister simply took a deep breath and exhaled, then nodded.
At that very moment, when the tension reached its peak, Namor and his unstoppable wave crossed the red line, the invisible boundary that marked the start of my field.
BAM
The Net, an invention born of many nights of research and dozens of experiments, absorbed the incredible wave. The kinetic energy contained in this mass of water began to transform, as if obeying an unknown spell, into a completely different form of energy, filling the air with a thrill and sparks of potential power.
Unfortunately, our tests on the mass of water were not the end. I managed to react to Namor's attack only thanks to my newfound power.
With Magneto's power now flowing through my veins, I managed to stop the thrown trident, as if snatching victory from the jaws of defeat at the last moment. However, what followed the trident was something I was not prepared for.
BAM
Namor's fist, powerful and unyielding like the nature he commanded, met Susan's force field. Namor's gaze fell on Sue, and deep in his eyes, I saw something I didn't like.
"TIME TO SMASH!" Ben shouted, rushing into battle.
The arena closed, locking the King of Atlantis with us in one field. This, in turn, meant it was time for stage two.
"Position number two!" I shouted, reaching out with my new power to the osmotic cannon.
Sue, Ben, and Johnny nodded. They understood perfectly what needed to be done.
As the battle flared up with new intensity, Ben, indomitable and steadfast like a mountain, confronted Namor. Their clash was filled with primal power, reminiscent of the collision of two elements.
Meanwhile, Johnny, embodying the unstoppable force of fire, began to unleash streams of flame on Namor and Ben. Thanks to his position in the air, he could do this with incredible ease.
Credit to the King of Atlantis, despite the onslaught from Ben, Johnny, and Sue, he remained unfazed. I knew well that such damage meant little to him.
"YOU THINK THIS CAN BREAK ME?!" Namor roared, his voice full of defiance and unyielding will. His words sliced through the air like a blade, reminding everyone of the unconquered power he represented.
In the next moment, his fist, imbued with all his anger and strength, broke through fire and stone, clashing with Susan's force field. The blow was so powerful that Ben, despite his invincible nature, was lifted a couple of meters off the ground like a light leaf in the wind, and Sue felt a pressure comparable only to the force of storms crashing against cliffs.
"Ready," I whispered with a slight smile on my face.
"IMPERIUS REX!" Namor bellowed, gathering all his rage and power into those words, trying to break through Susan's impenetrable force field. His voice echoed off the invisible walls of the dome, creating the illusion of multiple echoes, as if nature itself was amplifying his challenge.
"I'm sick of you already," I said, my words calm but filled with determination. My hand pressed the trigger of the osmotic cannon without hesitation, a device born from countless hours of research and experimentation.
In the next moment, the weapon's power hit Namor's body. He felt the full force of the invention, and judging by his reaction, the weapon worked exactly as I expected.
"KHAA!" Namor choked, his hands clutching at his throat. In his eyes, one could see the instant realization of what was happening, mixed with confusion and painful surprise.
CLICK
With a single click, I stopped the weapon. Namor still couldn't regain his composure. He didn't understand what was happening to him, why his strength had left his body.
"Bastard..." Namor whispered, looking at me with hatred clearly etched in his eyes. "Coward."
That word was the trigger. By this point, the power the Net had gathered was under my control, allowing me to understand some facets of my new strength.
"Is that so?" I asked with a slight smirk.
I raised my hand, and at that moment, a beam of energy began to condense above my palm.
"And you're a complete jerk," I said before sending the beam of energy toward Namor.