Chapter: Fury's Drive Through Chaos
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The streets of New York glittered with soft snow under the dim glow of morning sun rays. It was New Year's Eve, and for once, Nick Fury wasn't buried in paperwork or barking orders at someone. Instead, he was behind the wheel of his classic black car, enjoying the rare moment of peace with Phil Coulson sitting beside him.
Fury sipped from a flask, not one for tradition but letting himself indulge in a little of the "endless wine" gifted by Ritsuka Fujimaru.
"Damn," Fury muttered, leaning back in his seat, "this wine doesn't quit. Kid might actually know how to pick his gifts."
Coulson chuckled, watching the snow fall through the windshield. "I'll admit, sir, I didn't think you'd take Ritsuka up on his offer. Wine from magic? You always say you don't trust magic."
Fury waved a hand dismissively. "Wine and work are two different things, Coulson. One doesn't require me to believe in glowing circles and hocus-pocus."
Their calm drive was interrupted when red-and-blue lights flashed in their rearview mirror. Fury groaned, pulling over as a young police officer approached the window.
"License and registration, sir," the officer said politely, though his eyes narrowed as he noticed the flask.
Fury calmly pulled out his SHIELD ID and flashed it in the officer's face. "License? Registration? Kid, I'm the goddamn father of every police officer in this city. Now get lost, motherf#cker, before I find your superior and have you guarding vending machines in Queens."
The officer froze, stammered a quick apology, and practically sprinted back to his car.
Coulson raised an eyebrow as Fury hit the gas and resumed their drive. "Subtle as always, sir."
"Subtlety's for people with time," Fury said, smirking. "Now shut up and pass me the flask."
As they drove, Coulson glanced at Fury. "You know, we could just ask Ritsuka to teleport us there. Would save us the trouble of driving all the way across the city."
Fury rubbed his head, shaking it. "I don't trust that magic crap. Never have, never will. I trust my car. Built with my own money, not some kid's magical nonsense."
Coulson gave him a pointed look. "But you're fine drinking his endless wine?"
"hmm! Wine and teleportation are two different beasts," Fury said, taking another swig. "I know what's in this bottle. Hell if I know what happens when that kid waves his hand and poofs me into thin air. For all I know, I could end up in moon."
Coulson snorted. "Fair enough."
Suddenly, the snowflakes outside began to dissolve mid-air, transforming into crimson droplets. The sky above shifted from a calm gray to an ominous, swirling red.
Fury slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt. Both men stared out the windshield as the once-peaceful morning descended into chaos.
"What the hell…" Coulson muttered.
Fury's jaw tightened. "It's starting."
Coulson turned to him, confused. "What's starting?"
"The goddamn Red Apocalypse," Fury growled, pulling out his phone. "Ritsuka warned me about this months ago. Of course, it had to hit on New Year's freakin' Eve."
Fury dialed Ritsuka's number, his expression darkening as it rang and rang with no answer.
"Pick up, you little bastard," Fury muttered. "Don't make me come looking for your ass. I don't care if your wife is Witch. I will Slap your White ass."
When the call finally went to voicemail, Fury slammed the phone down on the dashboard. "Motherf#cker's ghosting me, his best friend I'm! how could he betray me? Coulson, call Karna."
Coulson obediently dialed Karna's number, putting it on speaker. The phone rang a few times before the Lancer answered.
"Fury," Karna said, his voice calm but tense. "Ritsuka, Morgan, and several others have disappeared. We don't know where they are."
Fury's knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. "What do you mean, 'disappeared'? They don't just vanish without a trace!"
"They disappeared into portals," Karna replied. "It seems our enemy made his Frist move against us."
Fury's voice rose. "You're telling me the one kid who could stop this shitshow is missing on the one night I need him?! Goddammit!"
Coulson glanced nervously at Fury. "Sir, maybe we should just head to his apartment. He might've left us some kind of plan."
Fury took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. "You're right. Call Hill. Tell her to activate every plan we've got on the table. I want three rescue helicarriers in the air and my personal helicarrier prepped and ready to move. Also call Banner!"
As Coulson relayed orders to Maria Hill, Fury muttered under his breath, "Ritsuka, wherever you are, you better be solving this mess. Otherwise, I'm dragging your magical ass back here myself."
Coulson hung up and gave Fury a reassuring nod. "Plans are in motion, sir. We'll figure this out."
Fury pressed the gas pedal, the car speeding through the empty, red-stained streets. "We better. Because if this is anything like the kid warned, then we're in for one hell of a night."
Fury is worried of his friend.
"The time has came to call Avengers together"
---
The morning sun glimmered faintly over the frost-covered streets, heralding the first day of the new year. It was a rare sight to see Loki of Asgard—now Loki of America—walking through an orphanage, no less, bearing cakes and wearing a polished black suit and tie. His hair was slicked back as always, his piercing green eyes scanning his surroundings with a mix of disdain and curiosity. Beside him walked Sitonai, her small hand clutching his sleeve, her innocent smile radiating warmth even in the cold air. Behind them trailed Sharon Carter, Loki's so-called secretary, though in reality, she was SHIELD's subtle leash on him.
For all his wit, Loki didn't mind. After all, what better place to rule than Midgard? With some help from Ritsuka and BB, he'd acquired fake IDs and the necessary documents to establish himself legally on Earth. He'd entered America's political sphere like a serpent in a garden, charming his way through debates and speeches. His charisma and cunning earned him admiration from millions. They called him the next great leader. Some even whispered that Loki would be the one to bring an era of true prosperity.
Of course, Loki relished every bit of it. Power was power, no matter the form it took.
Yet here he was, carrying cakes to an orphanage.
"Remind me why I am doing this again?" Loki asked, his tone laced with mild irritation as he pushed the boxes of cakes into the vehicle with the strength of someone who could bench-press Mjölnir.
"To understand humanity," Sitonai chirped, tugging at his sleeve. "Mother said it's important to help others. You promised you'd try to me, remember?"
Loki gave her a forced smile, the kind that masked his internal groan. "Ah yes, helping others. How… delightfully tedious."
Sharon Carter, dressed in a sharp black coat, rolled her eyes. "And to think, this is the man they call America's bright future."
Loki smirked, his voice dropping to a whisper as they approached the orphanage's entrance. "Jealous, are we? Admit it, Agent Carter, you're impressed by how easily I've bent your political system to my will."
"I'm impressed by how you've fooled so many people," she replied in a low voice. "But I'm also terrified of what happens when they realize who you really are."
"Who I really am is a savior," Loki said, his smile widening. "I'm making America great again!"
"With your lies," she shot back, her tone sharp.
"I never lied!" Loki said, feigning offense.
Sharon leaned closer, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I've traveled with you long enough to know exactly who you are, Loki. You're the god of lies, after all."
Loki's smile faltered slightly. "Touché," he muttered under his breath.
They were greeted at the orphanage door by the keeper, a retired soldier in his fifties. His broad shoulders and firm handshake spoke of a man who had seen war but had chosen to spend his peace caring for children. He welcomed them warmly, his eyes lighting up when he saw Loki.
"Mr. President!" the keeper exclaimed, shaking Loki's hand. "It's an honor to meet you. I've seen your speeches on TV—you've got my vote, sir."
Loki flashed his most convincing smile. "Ah, my good man, your support means the world to me. It's for people like you that I strive to make this nation shine."
Sharon stifled a laugh, muttering under her breath, "He should get an award for acting."
Sitonai gave Loki a warning glance, and he sighed before continuing with his façade. "I've brought cakes for the children," he announced, his voice smooth. "A small token to brighten their day."
The keeper was overjoyed, leading them to the playground where the children, still wide awake from the New Year's celebrations, were playing in the crisp morning air. Loki watched them with a mixture of bemusement and discomfort.
"Why must we waste perfectly good cakes on a bunch of children?" Loki whispered to Sitonai as they walked. "I fail to see how this helps me understand humanity."
Sitonai stopped, grabbing his hand with her small, gloved one. She looked up at him with a smile that was both innocent and knowing.
"Are you saying you don't like coming here with me, Loki?" she asked sweetly. "Because if you do, I'll just tell Mother that you didn't enjoy helping me today."
Sharon chimed in, smirking. "I'll be a witness."
Loki's forced smile returned as he raised his hands in mock surrender. "Fine. I'll hand out the cakes. But once this is over, I'm leaving."
Sitonai and Sharon exchanged victorious smiles, and Loki sighed, muttering under his breath, "Now I understand how Thor must have felt as a Brother."
As the children lined up, the keeper introduced Loki as a special guest. Loki handed out the cake boxes with a smile so polished it could blind someone.
"Here you go, little one," he said to a boy, who beamed up at him. "Eat this and remember that your President cares for you."
Sitonai handed out cakes with genuine warmth, chatting with the children and making them laugh. Sharon stood to the side, arms crossed, watching Loki with a raised eyebrow.
"Who would've thought?" she muttered. "The god of mischief handing out cake to kids. It's almost… wholesome."
Loki shot her a glare. "Say another word, Agent Carter, and I'll ensure you're reassigned to Alaska."
But even as he grumbled, something about the children's laughter stirred something in Loki. It wasn't understanding, not yet, but perhaps… curiosity.
For a fleeting moment, Loki wondered if there might be more to humanity than he had given it credit for. But the thought vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by his usual cunning grin.
After all, even the god of mischief could play the role of a benevolent leader—especially when it served his purposes.
All according to his keikaku.
After sometime later...
The snow fell gently, coating the world in a serene white blanket. Loki, dressed sharply in his black suit and tie, stood with his hands in his pockets. His green scarf swayed lightly in the crisp morning air as his golden horns remained absent—he didn't need them to assert his presence here. Sitonai, in her thick winter sweater and fur-trimmed dress, laughed and played with the children on the playground. Sharon Carter leaned against a lamppost nearby, her arms crossed, watching the scene with the practiced vigilance of a SHIELD agent tasked to shadow Loki.
As the snow crunched beneath his polished shoes, Loki approached a lone bench, where a small boy sat, bundled up but clearly withdrawn. Something about the child's somber demeanor piqued Loki's curiosity. The God of Mischief sat beside him, the snow falling softly on their shoulders.
"Are you Mr. Loki?" the boy asked hesitantly, his voice a mixture of awe and melancholy. "The one running for president?"
Loki gave a smirk, adjusting his tie. "Indeed, I am. Though, I am curious—why are you not playing with the others?"
The boy looked down at his small hands. "I can't," he said simply.
Loki arched a brow. "What do you mean, 'can't'? Are your legs broken?" His voice carried a teasing lilt, but he quickly noticed the weight behind the boy's words.
The child shook his head, his eyes downcast. "I have a disease… spinal muscular atrophy. The doctor says I only have about eighteen months to live."
Loki froze, his smirk fading. The boy's words felt heavier than he expected.
"What about your parents?" Loki asked, his tone quieter now.
"They're gone. Mom and Dad divorced when they caught each other cheating. They left me here and moved on with their lives, afterall, My parents couldn't effect to pay medicine for me, because the only durg which can save me was cost $100,000."" the boy said with surprising maturity, his voice devoid of bitterness, just resignation.
'So they took this chance to throw this boy'
Loki leaned back, letting the boy's story settle over him like the falling snow. For once, he had no quip, no clever line. Instead, he simply stared ahead, the weight of humanity's cruelty and fragility pressing against his divine arrogance. Mortals… so flawed, so selfish… yet this boy smiles despite it.
He is not going to help this kid anyway. He thinks he couldn't waste money or that much to save a kid he doesn't know and probably forget in few days. And he slept by closing his eyes. He was running around in interviews left and right for days. He finally to got relax mentally.
But suddenly a raucous laugh erupted behind him. He turned sharply to see Sitonai and the children pointing at him, barely able to contain their laughter. Sharon Carter stood nearby, smirking as she held up her phone.
"What's so amusing?" Loki asked, narrowing his eyes.
Without a word, Sharon handed him the phone. Loki's eyes widened as he saw his own face, painted in a kaleidoscope of bright colors. His face became painting board for them while he slept.
"They dare mock me? Me! The God of Mischief?" Loki growled, though his tone betrayed a hint of incredulous amusement.
The children's laughter only grew louder, and even the somber boy, Denial, giggled softly. Loki glanced at him, his annoyance fading. This boy, who had every reason to despair, was smiling. It was infectious.
Then suddenly loki realised something.
'Humans only live for a 100 years. It was like a dream that ends in an instant. What is the point of living a life like humans. While I witness the journey of humanity.'
He then remembered The words of Ritsuka Fujimaru.
'Even in a world Rife with conflict there exists a profound Beauty in the Connection people forge.'
Loki realised the meaning of Ritsuka words. This realization softens his heart allowing glimpses of empathy to emerge in his Cunningness.
"Perhaps," Loki muttered under his breath, "it's not so bad to act the fool… for once."
With a dramatic wave of his hand, Loki summoned a burst of rainbow-colored light. From his sleeves, he produced small, chirping chicks, each a different vibrant hue. The children gasped in delight as he handed the magical creations to them.
"Behold," Loki declared grandly, "a gift from your future president! Remember this day, for it shall be the first of many blessings I bestow upon you!"
The children cheered, and Denial beamed up at him. Loki felt an unfamiliar warmth in his chest. He turned to Sharon, who handed him a handkerchief to wipe the paint from his face.
"Transfer $100,000 to this orphanage," Loki ordered suddenly.
Sharon blinked, caught off guard. "Wait, what?"
"You heard me," Loki said, his voice firm. "Use whatever account you must. That boy," he nodded toward Denial, "deserves a chance at life."
Sharon stared at him, a flicker of genuine respect crossing her face. "Maybe," she said, "there's more to you than just lies."
Loki smirked, though it lacked his usual arrogance. "Don't get used to it, mortal."
Before she could reply, the sky darkened. The snow turned crimson, falling like blood. The air grew heavy as a portal of fiery red light tore open in the orphanage's courtyard. From its depths, grotesque demons crawled out, their snarls echoing in the eerie silence.
The children screamed in terror, and the orphanage keeper rushed to usher them inside. Loki stepped forward, his hands glowing with emerald magic.
"Fear not, children," he said, his voice calm but commanding. "Your future president shall handle this."
With a flick of his wrist, a surge of energy blasted the nearest demon into ash. The children clapped and cheered, their fear momentarily replaced with awe. Denial looked at Loki with wide eyes. "You're a hero, Mr. Loki."
Loki froze for a moment, then gave a small smile. "Indeed, I am."
As more demons poured from the portal, Sharon and Sitonai joined him. Sharon unsheathed a hidden blade, while Sitonai summoned a bow of icy blue energy.
"I admit," Sharon said, slicing through a demon, "you look pretty cool for the God of Lies and fool."
"Don't ruin my moment, mortal!" Loki snapped, hurling another blast of magic.
"Brother!" Sitonai called, her arrows freezing the demons in their tracks. "We need to regroup. Let's find the source of this portal! All Bodyguards stay here and protect the kids"she did more damage than loki had done and ordered the Bodyguards or agents of shield who rushed inside after seeing magic blasts. They understand and nodded to her.
Loki nodded, summoning a shield to block an incoming demon attacks. "Very well. Sharon, you're driving."
Sharon raised an eyebrow. "Do I look like your chauffeur?"
"Just get in the car!" Loki barked, and the three of them piled into the vehicle, speeding off into the crimson-streaked horizon.
As the car weaved through the chaos, Loki couldn't help but glance back at the orphanage. Denial's face lingered in his mind—a boy who had lost everything but still found a reason to smile.
---
Chapter: The God of Genosha
The sun hung low over the shores of Genosha, the soft sound of waves lapping against the sand creating a tranquil contrast to the chaos the island had once endured. Tezcatlipoca, the Smoking Mirror, sat casually on the beach, his imposing figure a stark contrast to his chosen activity. He was fishing—or attempting to, anyway—using an AK-47. The crackle of gunfire punctuated the serenity of the ocean as he took aim at a school of fish, the golden light of dusk reflecting off his iconic sunglasses.
Behind him, his loyal underlings stood at attention, watching their god-like leader in equal parts awe and confusion. One of them, a young man with a clipboard, stepped forward nervously.
"Lord Tezcatlipoca, the reports on Genosha's improvements have been finalized."
"Good," Tezcatlipoca said, not even turning as he fired another burst into the water. A single fish, or what remained of it, floated to the surface. "Read them to me. I'm busy."
The underling named John cleared his throat, his voice trembling slightly as he began. "The modernization projects are proceeding as planned. Infrastructure, education, healthcare—everything is progressing at a steady pace. The people are... happy. Your reforms have—"
"Of course, they're happy," Tezcatlipoca interrupted, reloading his gun with a grin. "I gave them freedom, purpose, and equality. Unlike those corrupt fools who came before me. Genosha doesn't need kings or tyrants. It needs a god." He aimed again, but this time let the gun hang loosely in his hands, his tone softening. "And gods provide."
The underlings nodded enthusiastically, their respect for their leader evident.
"It seems today my Aim is perfect! Anything else?" Tezcatlipoca asked, finally turning to face them.
"We've also secured the latest modern weapons from the black market, as you instructed," the John continued. "We've established Genosha as a top-tier client. Any new weaponry that enters the market will be ours."
Tezcatlipoca's grin widened, showing a flash of teeth. "Excellent. The world is a dangerous place, and we must be prepared to protect what we've built." He raised a finger. "And remember—money doesn't matter. We have plenty from those… unfortunate souls who thought they could rule this island forever."
The group laughed nervously, knowing exactly what he meant.
To them he is real god. He turned genosha into promised island. He brought his own culture into that place. He removed the upper class and lower class and brought equally.
He brought mutants their stripped of basic rights back to them with violence. Ofcourse, Vlad was there to keep a eye on him.
Many countries tried to take over this place. But tezcatlipoca gave warning to them, he said he will reveal the secrets of other countries because the pervious corrupted leaders of genosha are contract killers and worked for other countries dirty work. Now all of that knowledge and proofs are in tezcatlipoca hands And countries backed off.
But before the discussion could continue, the sky above them shifted. The tranquil blue was replaced by a deep crimson, a wave of heat washing over the island. The air felt heavy, oppressive, as if something ancient and powerful had turned its gaze upon Genosha.
Tezcatlipoca stood, slinging the AK-47 over his shoulder. He looked up at the sky and chuckled. "Well, well. Looks like the gods are getting restless." He turned to his men, his expression now serious. "Send a message to Vlad III. Tell him to meet me immediately."
"Yes, Lord Tezcatlipoca!"
"And ready the faction," he continued, his voice like steel. "Arm everyone. This is Genosha, and nothing—nothing—harms this island without paying the price."
The underlings with John scattered to carry out his orders. Tezcatlipoca stayed behind, staring at the crimson sky. His smile returned, but this time it was tinged with something darker. He adjusted his sunglasses, the reflection of the blood-red sky gleaming in the lenses.
"It seems the time has come for humanity to prove itself," he muttered to no one in particular. "I wonder what Master Ritsuka will do Now… Daybit, you might have been right. Everything is going as you told to me in lostbelt 7! The real war begins now. I wonder when you will show up again."
Memories of his old master, Daybit, surfaced briefly. He let out a low laugh, one filled with anticipation and a touch of nostalgia.
Soon, the sound of boots on sand interrupted his thoughts. Vlad III, the Impaler, approached, his crimson cloak billowing slightly in the breeze. His expression was as calm and calculating as ever, though there was a glint of curiosity in his eyes.
"You called, Tezcatlipoca," Vlad said, his voice as sharp as the stakes he was known for.
Tezcatlipoca spread his arms wide, gesturing to the red sky. "Look around you, Vlad. The heavens themselves are crying out for blood. And who are we to deny them? The time for your revenge had came."
Vlad's gaze remained steady. "is this Red Apocalypse, We need to call Master now. We need to be ready"
"Its not 'we'," Tezcatlipoca replied. "The question is, are you ready to see how far we can push humanity?"
Vlad's lips curled into a faint smirk. "I am always ready. But be careful, Tezcatlipoca. The line between a test and a war is often thinner than you think. And I, unless master orders me, won't stop going after Dracula."
Tezcatlipoca laughed, his voice booming over the sound of the waves. "Oh, I hope it's a war. Good for you and Dracula. Also What's life without a little chaos? Then we should wait for master call."
With that, the ancient being and Vlad stood side by side, their eyes on the horizon. Whatever was coming, Genosha would not face it unprepared.