(Read author note at the end please.)
The stench of death clung to the air. Coulson crouched down, his gloved fingers tracing the edge of a wound on the body in front of him. His face remained impassive, the detachment he had perfected over years of dealing with crime scenes helping him yet again.
"Clean cuts…" he muttered under his breath. The wounds weren't jagged like a typical knife attack—these were too precise, almost surgical. "This wasn't caused by any ordinary weapon."
Behind him, Captain Roberts stood pale, the scene still fresh in his mind. "I've never seen anything like this," he muttered, his voice cracking with disbelief. "Not in my entire career."
Coulson straightened, brushing off his hands. "You're right. And neither have we." His tone was firm, reassuring, making the horror feel like just another day at the office. "This isn't something your department is equipped to handle. S.H.I.E.L.D. will be taking over from here. Have your men clear out."
Roberts hesitated. His eyes flickered to the bodies. "But—"
"You know how this goes, Captain." Coulson's voice was calm but unyielding. "This is bigger than your jurisdiction. Get your men out of here."
With reluctance etched on his face, Roberts nodded. He gave one last look at the devastation inside the warehouse, the shredded remains of bodies littering the floor, before turning to leave. Outside, he shouted orders to his team.
As the officers began to pack up, Coulson stepped into the fresh air and pulled out his phone. He dialed a number, his phone buzzed twice before a cold and sharp voice came through.
"What do you have for me?"
"It's bad," Coulson said, lowering his voice. "We're dealing with something supernatural. And from the looks of it, whoever—or whatever—did this isn't trying to hide."
There was a pause. Fury's voice, ever-cautious, came back steady. "Supernatural? Not average gang violence then."
"No," Coulson replied, "definitely not. We need more resources on this. I'm not sure what we're dealing with yet, but it's dangerous."
Fury didn't hesitate. "I'll send a team. Keep it quiet, Coulson. We don't need this making headlines."
The call ended, and Coulson pocketed the phone. He cast a glance toward the retreating officers, the crime scene still fresh in his mind. Whatever had done this was more than just an ordinary human.
----
The sound of rushing water filled a small apartment as he stood under the shower, letting the steam rise around him. The images replayed in his mind: the ferocity, the fight, the power.
Incursio had unleashed its power, giving him the strength to kill all his enemies. His muscles had moved with superhuman strength and precision, but the massive amount of power in such a short time had left him utterly exhausted.
Stepping out of the shower, Liam grabbed a towel and dried off quickly. Incursio sat nearby, glowing faintly. He picked it up and released the sword's power, feeling the surge of power ripple through his body once again. His senses sharpened, his muscles tensed as the armor molded to his frame, making him feel invincible.
But it wouldn't last.
He clicked the timer on his watch, a habit he'd started after discovering the armor's limitations. Five minutes. That was how long he had before Incursio would dissolve. He glanced at the countdown, watching the seconds tick away as the armor encased him.
'Too short,'he thought grimly. 'I need more time.'
The fight last night had pushed him beyond his limits, forcing him to rely on fear and anger to keep going. He had lasted longer than five minutes because his emotions had driven him. But raw emotion wasn't enough. He needed control. He needed to get stronger without relying solely on the armor.
His eyes flickered to Neontote, the spear that had appeared alongside the armor. He picked it up, feeling the weight of the weapon in his hand. The spear felt almost like an extension of his body, and he knew he needed to master it. Not just brute force—real skill, precision, sharpness.
'Okoye. Sif. Odin. Valkyrie.' He ran through the list of spear masters in his mind, thinking of their fighting styles.' Proxima Midnight and Corvus Glaive, too, but they're with Thanos.' Off the table.
A bitter smile tugged at his lips. Maybe one of them could train me. If I could track them down. Okoye was busy in Wakanda, and Sif wouldn't come into the picture for another few years. Valkyrie… he wasn't even sure where to find her. She was probably drowning herself in alcohol on Sakaar, but to get to Sakaar I'd need to wait for Thor.
Then there was Kamar-Taj. The mystics could teach him discipline, control. But the Ancient One? She'd know. She'd sense he wasn't from this world. Liam shuddered at the thought. 'If she sees me as a threat to the timeline…' But then again, he reasoned, if she really thought he was dangerous, she would have appeared already. 'Maybe it's worth the risk.'
Liam flopped down onto the couch, flipping through channels. He fully expected to see news of last night's massacre all over the networks—gang violence, police investigations, something. But to his surprise, the coverage was minimal. Local accidents, traffic jams, even celebrity gossip. Nothing about the chaos he had caused.
He frowned, switching to another channel. Same thing. It was as if last night had never happened.
'S.H.I.E.L.D'. He thought, his lips curling into a smirk. 'They'd covered it up, of course.' Suppressing events like this was their bread and butter.' If S.H.I.E.L.D. knew what happened, then Hydra probably does too.'
The smirk faded slightly as a chill ran down his spine. Hydra. They manipulated governments, murdered countless people, all in pursuit of power. He wasn't naive enough to think they wouldn't come after him once they got wind of what he was capable of. They'd want Incursio. They'd want him.
He chuckled darkly. While Hydra was dangerous, he already knew a lot about them from the movies. If he gave Fury a little hint, he might not even need to clean up Hydra himself.
Still, he knew what was coming. S.H.I.E.L.D. would find him sooner or later, and when they did, Fury would have a decision to make. The man was paranoid, always thinking three steps ahead. He'd either try to kill Liam or recruit him. Probably the latter—Fury loved keeping potential nuclear bombs close.
'Joining the Avengers wouldn't be the worst option,' Liam mused, leaning back in his chair. 'At least then I wouldn't have to worry about the military and other forces I don't even know about coming after me.'
With a heavy sigh, he switched off the TV. Silence fell in the apartment, but he wasn't alone. Not in this life.