Sleep comes instantly but feels far too short when my alarm blares at 6:30. The monitors are still cycling through footage of last night - the dock operation and the gas line incident playing on repeat across news channels.
"Computer, news summary," I grunt, dragging myself to the shower.
"Shift's double heroics dominate morning headlines," the AI responds. "Stock in Fisk Industries up 3% in pre-market trading. Social media activity indicates 200% increase in public approval. Multiple hashtags trending: #ShiftingTides, #NYCsFinest, #ShiftNeverSleeps."
I catch my reflection in the bathroom mirror. The white hair and red eyes don't surprise me anymore, but the dark circles under them definitely show. Even with my enhanced stamina, back-to-back heroics take their toll.
My phone lights up with a text from Fisk's personal assistant: "Car waiting downstairs. Mr. Fisk expects you in the private dining room."
As I dress in another perfectly tailored suit, I can't help but wonder about "Project Echo" that I found out about through hacking with Graymatter. I couldn't find much, since it seems, Fisk holds the too important data as paper, rather than digitally.
The Ultimatrix pulses quietly on my wrist, hidden beneath an expensive watch sleeve. Whatever game Fisk is playing, whatever Stark suspects, I have my own ace up my sleeve - or rather, on it.
Time to face another day as New York's newest hero.
And hope I can keep all these plates spinning without dropping any of them.
The private dining room occupies the top floor of Fisk Tower, offering a panoramic view of the morning sun reflecting off Manhattan's skylines. Fisk already sits at the head of the table, multiple tablets displaying news coverage while he reads the Wall Street Journal.
"Your popularity is exceeding projections," he says without looking up. "The wind manipulation was particularly well-received."
"Didn't exactly plan that one," I admit, taking my seat as staff serves breakfast. "The situation called for something different."
"Indeed." He sets down his paper. "Which raises the question of just how many 'different' solutions you have at your disposal."
I take a bite of perfectly prepared eggs, buying time to consider my response. "I'm still learning what I can do. Each situation teaches me something new."
"Convenient," Fisk observes, studying me. "Though it makes planning future operations more... complicated."
"You mean it makes controlling me more complicated."
The words slip out before I can stop them. Three weeks ago, I'd never have dared speak so directly to Wilson Fisk. But things have changed. I've changed.
To my surprise, he actually smiles. "Are you ready for today's facility tour?" He states, deflecting my words.
"The facility tour?" I set down my fork, studying the schematics floating between us. "You mean about what I mentioned before? About bigger threats coming? But didn't you say we'll have my tour weeks later?"
"Indeed." Fisk manipulates the hologram, zooming in on specific sections. "But... Your warning was... concerning. Especially given how events are already unfolding, that moving faster may be wiser."
He pulls up several news reports, unusual atmospheric disturbances, military movements that don't quite add up. "My intelligence networks have confirmed unusual patterns. Perhaps you'd care to elaborate on what we should be preparing for?"
I choose my words carefully. I can't reveal what I know about the future of this universe, but I can guide preparations. "Again, It's more a feeling, nothing too concrete."
He looks scrutinizes me for a moment, and continues, "Hence Project Echo." He displays what looks like advanced sensor arrays.
"The facility you'll tour today represents years of research and development. Technology designed to detect, analyze, and potentially counter enhanced individuals."
"Like me?" I raise an eyebrow.
"Among others." Fisk's expression remains neutral. "Though your recent displays of power suggest even our most advanced systems might need... updating."
A notification pops up on one of his screens - something about an incident in New Mexico. Fisk studies it briefly before dismissing it.
I choose to do the same for now. If its really something others can't handle, I'll find out soon enough. But I don't worry much, after all, Iron Man is still a thing.
Though for some reason, the thought still bugs me.
"The car leaves in twenty minutes," he says, standing. "I suggest you finish your breakfast. Today will be... enlightening."
As he exits, I can't help but wonder if I'm playing this right. Warning him about future threats without revealing too much is a delicate balance. And today might show just how seriously he's taking those warnings.
The convoy of black SUVs moves through Manhattan's morning traffic with practiced efficiency. I watch the city pass by, noting how different it looks in daylight compared to last night's heroics.
The industrial complex appears abandoned at first glance, but I notice the subtle details - reinforced walls, hidden sensor arrays, carefully concealed defensive positions. To anyone else, it might look like just another Fisk Industries storage facility.
Our vehicles descend into an underground parking structure, where guards try very hard to look like normal security while manning state-of-the-art checkpoints and biometric scanners.
"Welcome to Echo Base," Fisk announces as we step out. The guards tense slightly at my presence, their eyes tracking my every move. They've seen what I can do, and they're not sure if that makes me an asset or a threat.
He gestures toward a heavily secured door. "Shall we begin?"
Time to see exactly what Project Echo entails.
The door opens to reveal a massive underground complex. Multiple levels stretch both above and below us, each dedicated to different aspects of research and development.
"The first level focuses on detection systems," Fisk explains as we pass rows of advanced sensors and monitoring equipment. Scientists in white lab coats pause their work to stare at us - or more specifically, at me.
"And what exactly are you detecting?" I ask, noting how some of the equipment seems designed to track energy signatures similar to the Ultimatrix's transformations.
"Everything." He leads me to a central monitoring station. "Energy fluctuations, atmospheric anomalies, unexplained phenomena. The world is changing. We need to see it coming."
A researcher approaches with a tablet, showing Fisk some kind of data readout. I catch glimpses of familiar patterns - energy spikes that match my transformations from last night.
"Level two," Fisk continues as we descend deeper, "is more... practical."
The doors open to reveal what can only be described as a weapons testing facility. But these aren't normal weapons. Advanced prototypes line the walls, each designed to counter different types of enhanced abilities.
"Impressive," I observe, watching a demonstration of what appears to be some kind of energy containment field.
"Why show me all this?" I suddenly ask, watching another weapons test. "Don't get me wrong - I asked to see your R&D, but..." I turn to face him directly. "I expected months, maybe years of proving myself first. Half thought I'd end up having to sneak in here myself - no offense."
Fisk actually chuckles at that. "You're learning to be direct. Good." He dismisses the researchers with a gesture. "Tell me, Samael, what's more valuable - someone who sneaks into your facility, or someone who tells you they considered sneaking into your facility?"
"Honesty as a power play. Clever."
"Indeed." He leads me toward another section. "But more importantly, your warning about future threats carried weight, despite you constantly reiterating it as merely a feeling.
The specificity of your concern, combined with emerging global patterns..." He pauses. "Let's just say I prefer to have you fully informed rather than operating on partial intelligence."
"Keep your friends close and your potentially knowledgeable adopted son closer?"
"Something like that." The doors open to reveal Project Echo's core facility. "Though I suspect we both know there's more to this arrangement than either of us is saying."
The core facility is massive - a circular chamber filled with technology that looks decades ahead of anything publicly available. At its center stands what appears to be a quantum computing array, surrounded by holographic displays showing real-time data from across the globe.
"Project Echo isn't just about detection or defense," Fisk explains. "It's about understanding the fundamental changes occurring in our world."
The main screen flickers with familiar images - Iron Man's first flight, the Hulk's rampage in Harlem, my own transformations. But there's more: strange energy readings from various locations, atmospheric disturbances, and patterns that seem to indicate something bigger approaching.
"The quantum array processes hundreds of terabytes of data per second," a lead scientist explains, approaching with barely contained excitement. "We can track and analyze any anomaly, any deviation from normal physical laws-"
She stops abruptly as one of the displays starts flashing red. New data streams in - something massive just triggered every sensor in New Mexico.
Fisk moves to the central console, his expression darkening. "It seems as I feared your warnings about bigger threats weren't theoretical after all."
The readings are off the charts, showing energy signatures unlike anything their systems have recorded. Even the Ultimatrix pulses slightly in response.
"Sir," another researcher calls out, "you need to see this satellite feed."
The satellite feed shows a massive atmospheric disturbance forming over the New Mexico desert. The energy readings are astronomical, creating patterns that make Project Echo's sensors light up like a Christmas tree.
'Thor' I think to myself in shock. It's too soon, shouldn't it atleast be a year from now?
"The military is already mobilizing," one analyst reports. "SHIELD assets detected in the area."
Fisk turns to me, his expression unreadable. "You don't seem surprised."
"I am," I reply, "I just know letting shock take over isn't useful."
The quantum array processes the data in real-time, creating predictive models of the energy pattern's potential impact.
One screen shows what looks like a bridge - not just through space, but between realms.
"Dr. Foster's readings are coming in," another scientist announces. "Her equipment detected similar anomalies three days ago."
I watch the patterns unfold, knowing this is just the beginning. The arrival of Thor will change everything - public perception of heroes, understanding of other worlds, the very nature of what's possible.
"I should check this out," I say, already moving toward the center of the room.
Fisk's eyes narrow. "New Mexico is quite far, even for your capabilities."
"XLR8 can handle it." I activate the Ultimatrix. "Besides, isn't this why you showed me the facility? So we could respond to situations like this?"
Before he can object, I transform. The world slows around me as XLR8's form takes shape, my enhanced perception already calculating the fastest route to New Mexico.
"I'll stay in contact," I tell Fisk, my voice now carrying XLR8's distinctive rasp. "Have your systems track me - might as well get some useful data about my speed capabilities."
Without waiting for a response, I dash through the facility's corridors, past startled guards and researchers. At these speeds, their surprised expressions freeze like photographs.
The desert heat hits me as I race across state lines, the world a blur except for the occasional sonic boom in my wake. XLR8's built-in tracking systems help me navigate, while the Ultimatrix's instincts guide me in maintaining optimal speed without burning out.
The trip that would take hours by plane passes in minutes.
The town comes into view - Puente Antiguo, New Mexico. From my speed-enhanced perspective, I can see everything frozen in time: military vehicles establishing a perimeter, men in black suits that scream 'SHIELD', and civilians being evacuated.
I slow down enough to process more detail. The atmospheric disturbance is centered over what looks like a crater in the desert. Something's already landed there - something that's drawing a lot of attention.
A familiar figure catches my eye - Agent Coulson, directing operations with that characteristic calm efficiency.
I position myself on a rooftop, hidden from immediate view. The Ultimatrix's energy reserves are still good, but I'll need to transform back soon to conserve power. XLR8's speed is great for travel, but not ideal for what might be coming.
The sky darkens suddenly, clouds swirling in impossible patterns. The air crackles with energy that makes the Ultimatrix pulse in response.
"Well," I mutter to myself, "looks like I made it just in time for the show."
I tap the Ultimatrix symbol, reverting to human form just as my phone buzzes. Fisk.
"The energy readings are increasing exponentially," he says without preamble. "Our systems can barely process the data."
"I can see why," I respond, watching the clouds form what looks like a funnel. "You might want to record everything. This is going to be-"
A massive bolt of energy strikes the ground, the impact sending shockwaves across the desert. Even from my rooftop position, I can feel the raw power. This isn't just some natural phenomenon - this is pure Asgardian energy.
SHIELD agents scramble to maintain their perimeter as more vehicles arrive. I catch snippets of their radio chatter through my phone's connection to Echo Base:
"Unknown energy signature-"
"Coulson wants eyes on-"
"Subject from the crater is moving-"
I spot him then - Thor, though not yet in his asgardian glory, moving toward something in the distance. From what I remember, this must be his attempt to retrieve Mjolnir.
"Samael," Fisk's voice cuts through my observations. "What do you see?"
"Something new," I reply, watching more SHIELD vehicles arrive. "You might want to prep the facility for some new data. This is about to get interesting."
Thor moves with purpose toward the makeshift SHIELD facility they've built around Mjolnir. Even without his powers, there's something regal about him - something that marks him as more than human.
"Multiple hostiles engaging the subject," a SHIELD radio crackles. "Request immediate backup-"
The transmission cuts off as Thor starts plowing through agents like they're made of paper. No powers, no hammer, just pure combat skill. It's both impressive and concerning.
"Should I intervene?" I ask Fisk - more as a formality, since I have no true intention to, and know Fisk wouldn't want me to.
"Observe for now," he replies. "This is SHIELD's operation. Direct interference might be... politically unwise."
He's right, but as I watch Thor continue his rampage toward Mjolnir, I can't help but waver as I think about the agents he's throwing around. Sure, they work for a shadowy government organization, but they're just doing their jobs.
The rain starts falling harder as a familiar figure appears on a high point with a bow. Hawkeye. This is about to get serious.
"At least let me minimize casualties," I say, having changed my mind, already reaching for the Ultimatrix. "XLR8 can evacuate any injured agents without being seen."
A pause from Fisk's end. "Very well. But maintain deniability. We don't need SHIELD's attention yet."
I transform back into XLR8 and move through the scene in super-speed. From my perspective, everything is nearly frozen - raindrops hanging in the air, Thor in mid-punch, agents at various stages of being thrown.
Working quickly, I adjust the trajectories of falling agents, shifting their landing positions to minimize injury. A slight push here, a repositioning there - small changes that won't alter the overall event but might prevent some broken bones.
Through my earpiece, I hear Fisk watching the data. "Fascinating. The subject's combat capabilities even without weapons are remarkable."
"You should see him with his powers," I mutter, then catch myself. Thankfully, the comment goes unnoticed as Thor reaches the center of the facility.
I position myself on a higher vantage point, switching back to human form to conserve energy. Below, Thor approaches Mjolnir, his prize finally within reach. The hammer sits innocently in its crater, waiting for its master to prove worthy.
But I know how this ends. He's not ready yet.
"Energy readings are spiking again," Fisk reports as Thor grips the hammer's handle.
I watch silently as he pulls... and nothing happens. The look of confusion, then devastation on his face tells the whole story. The mighty Thor, brought low by his own unworthiness.
"SHIELD is moving in," I observe as agents surround the now-kneeling Thor. "I think the show's over for now."
The rain pours harder as SHIELD takes Thor into custody. Coulson approaches the fallen prince, and even from this distance, I can see his trademark subtle smile. He has no idea he's arresting the so called God of Thunder.
"Interesting," Fisk's voice comes through my earpiece. "The subject failed to move the object, despite displaying superhuman strength moments before."
"Some things aren't about strength," I reply, watching Thor being led away. "Your sensors picking up anything new?"
"The atmospheric disturbance is dissipating, but we're detecting similar energy signatures at a lower intensity. As if... something is watching."
He's right. Somewhere up there, Heimdall is probably observing everything. And if my timeline is correct, Thor's friends will be arriving soon.
"I should head back," I say, preparing to transform again. "Though you might want to keep monitoring this area. I have a feeling the show isn't completely over."
"Agreed. The facility will maintain surveillance. Though Samael..." Fisk pauses. "Your comment about strength. You seem to understand more about this situation than you're letting on."
I activate the Ultimatrix, XLR8's form taking shape. "Let's just say some lessons are universal, even across wherever this guy is from"
Before he can probe further, I'm gone, racing back across the country. Behind me, the thunderer sits in a SHIELD interrogation room, about to learn his own lesson in humility.
And I can't help but wonder - in this universe of so called gods and monsters, what lessons will I actually have to learn? I'm not arrogant enough to think myself perfect after all.