Marvel: Terror Stream

At 2:00 AM, a car finally pulled into the hidden dam facility, its tires crunching softly over the gravel.

"Maaaan~" Gambit groaned, stretching his arms high above his head until his spine popped like a chain of firecrackers. "Dat wasonelongride. My backisnotbuilt forsomuchsittin’."

Nightcrawler, his blue skin looking slightly green from motion sickness, stumbled out of the passenger seat. "You drove like a man possessed," he said, his tail drooping limply. "I think I left my soul somewhere in New Jersey."

Rogue stretched with considerably more grace, rolling her neck. Gwen slid out of the back seat, adjusting her white mask so it rested neatly around her neck.

A pair of S.H.I.E.L.D. loyalists escorted the four newcomers down a series of dim, concrete pathways until they reached a small briefing room.

Inside, Steve Rogers, Maria Hill, Natasha Romanoff, and Nick Fury were already gathered around a table.

But there was someone else in the room, too. Someone entirely unexpected, who had arrived just a few hours before the younger mutants.

She was a veteran X-Man - the woman who had famously saved the President from Magneto’s attack 18 years ago. She was the single biggest reason mutants held a somewhat better standing in society today, and the primary reason many could finally step out of the shadows.

It was Raven Darkhölme - aka Mystique.

Raven was the hero and role model to countless young mutants, including Rogue. In fact, Raven was the main reason Rogue had joined the X-Men two years prior.

Raven offered a gentle, affectionate smile as Rogue approached, reaching out to give the young woman’s hair a soft, motherly pat.

Rogue’s face lit up like a sunrise. For a moment, the tough Southern belle looked like a kid on Christmas morning. "Raven!"

Currently, in her human persona in casual clothes, Mystique turned, and her severe expression softened into something warm. "Anna."

Raven offered a gentle, affectionate smile as Rogue approached, reaching out to give the young woman’s hair a soft, motherly pat.

Rogue - who was turning 24 this year, who had fought Sentinels and survived more near-death experiences than most soldiers - melted into the touch like a little girl.

"You’ve grown," Raven said softly, her voice carrying a warmth that surprised everyone who only knew her public persona. "Still reckless, I hear."

"Learned from the best," Rogue replied with a grin.

Mystique’s smile lingered for a moment before she turned her attention to the others. Despite being biologically 62, she looked absolutely stunning and hottt - as always. She was unaging, both in mutant and in her human forms. Some things just weren’t fair.

But for men, this was fair. This was justice!

Hot women shouldn’t age...

Then, Raven turned her attention to Kurt and Remy. They were two of the more recent additions to the X-Men roster, but that certainly didn’t mean they were weak.

"Kurt. Remy. Good to see you both. I need you both to behave."

Raven gave Spider-Woman a smiling nod as well.

With the pleasantries out of the way, the tone of the room shifted back to seriousness.

The briefing continued for an hour. Roles were assigned. Contingencies were mapped.

Just as Steve finished outlining the final insertion routes for the Helicarriers, Rogue leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

"That’s all fine and dandy for Hydra," Rogue drawled, a mischievous glint in her eye. "But what happens if Sugar’s boyfriend decides to crash the party? I mean, isn’t it obvious he’s gonna show up?"

Across the table, Natasha let out a quiet, amused snort, a rare smirk playing on her lips at the Southern mutant’s choice of words.

Gwen dropped her head onto the table with a loud thud. "Can we please stop calling him that? It’s really getting old!" she groaned, her voice muffled against the wood.

Despite the light teasing, the question hung heavily over the room. It was on the minds of almost everyone in the room.

Veritas had absolutely demolished Spider-Woman. Not once, but multiple times. When he’d appeared in the middle of the chaotic brawl, he’d seemed untouchable. Like something out of a nightmare. A grinning reaper in a tailored suit.

"If you mean Veritas," Maria Hill said, pinching the bridge of her nose with a tired sigh, "there is no official contingency plan for him. He’s too unpredictable. But you’re right, it’s highly likely he’ll make an appearance. The Helicarriers are the most obvious targets, though he could also strike the Triskelion’s launch control room or the World Security Council chamber."

Kurt shifted nervously, his tail curling tightly around the leg of his chair. "But what is the plan to actually defeat him?" the blue mutant asked.

"He has appeared stronger every single time. Honestly... I do not think anyone in this room has the raw power to hold him off. If Jean or the Professor were here, then ja, it might be easy. Or even Thor, or the Hulk..."

At Kurt’s words, Gwen lifted her head, though her eyes immediately lowered to the ground.

It was exactly what she had been agonizing over all day. The small, disastrous encounter on the highway had made it painfully clear: she was no longer strong enough to deal with Veritas on her own. She had been flicked out of the battlefield without even a fraction of a chance to retaliate.

If he came after the people she was trying to protect the next time, would she be able to save them? Would she ever be able to win against him?

’...you no longer interest me anymore...’

Why did those cold, dismissive words keep echoing in her mind? Why did they sting so much?

"Veritas is dangerous," Steve admitted, looking around the table to meet everyone’s eyes. "He has superhuman physical strength, blinding speed, ash manipulation, teleportation, and a healing factor. It sounds like an overwhelming combination."

"But he’s not invincible."

"Look around you." Steve gestured to the assembled heroes. "We have dealt with every single one of those powers in the past. Hell, some of you sitting here have those exact same abilities. Alone... as Kurt said, we might not stand a chance. But together? We cover each other’s blind spots. Together, we can take him down."

Gwen raised her chin. His words were right. If she alone wasn’t enough for the Jester, then with a team this strong, she would definitely defeat him.

The room seemed to breathe a little easier. Even Fury gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

Remy LeBeau, however, remained unimpressed. He examined his fingernails with exaggerated interest, buffing them against his chest. "So, wegoup, beatupsomebadguys, pluginaUSBdrive, andsavetheworld? SoundslikeatypicalTuesday,"

The next morning arrived far too quickly.

Before leaving the hidden dam facility, Maria Hill took the burner phone that Veritas had used to create their secure communication line.

’This phone could be how he tracked me down that highway and appeared beside me...’ She thought before dropping it onto the concrete floor and crushing it under her heel. Getting rid of it permanently. Perhaps, thinking without the phone he would no longer be able to appear near her...

Oh, how wrong she was. He hadn’t just marked the phone, he had marked her body, her neck. How was she gonna get rid of that...

The Triskelion

Alexander Pierce was playing the perfect host, greeting the World Security Council members as they arrived.

"And how was your flight?" Pierce asked, offering a polite, practiced smile.

"Lovely," Councilwoman Hawley replied dryly, straightening her coat. "The ride from the airport, less so."

"Sadly, S.H.I.E.L.D. can’t control everything," Pierce said, leading them inside.

Councilman Rockwell scoffed. "Including Captain America and Spider-Woman, it seems."

"Spider-Woman had already quit S.H.I.E.L.D. before she went rogue, Councilman Rockwell." Pierce’s said as he gestured to one of his STRIKE guards, who stepped forward holding a sleek silver case.

Pierce opened it, revealing four small, metallic pins.

"This facility is entirely biometrically controlled for today’s launch," Pierce explained. "These pins will give you unrestricted access to all levels."

The council members each took a pin and pinned it to their lapels, completely unaware they were being fitted with Hydra’s killing device.

.

.

.

.

One of the Triskelion’s Communications Hub

"Negative, DT-6. The pattern is full," one of the Com Techs said into his headset. He pulled the mic away and muttered to his colleague, "Well, he could have said something."

Suddenly, a sharp burst of static hissed through their earpieces. Both men winced, pulling their headsets down.

"Ow!"

"Must be the dish acting up," the second tech said.

"I’ll go check it out," the first tech sighed. He stood up, walking toward the heavy metal door at the back of the command station.

He pressed the release button, and the door slid open.

Standing right on the other side of the door was Captain America, holding his shield. Standing behind him were Maria Hill and Natasha Romanoff, both aiming silenced pistols directly at the tech’s chest.

And clinging upside down from the ceiling behind them was a blue-skinned, glowing-eyed mutant who let out a soft, warning hiss.

"Excuse us," Steve said politely.

The technician swallowed hard, immediately raising his hands in the air and stepping aside to let them enter.

Up in the World Security Council chambers, Alexander Pierce raised a crystal glass of champagne.

"I know the road hasn’t exactly been smooth," Pierce said, addressing the World Security Council members. "And I know some of you would have gladly kicked me out of the car along the way. But finally, we’re here. And the world should be grateful."

As they raised their glasses to Pierce’s toast, a sharp crackle of static echoed from the building’s massive PA system.

Then, a familiar, steady voice filled the Triskelion.

"Attention, all S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. This is Steve Rogers."

Pierce froze, his glass hovering near his lips.

"You’ve heard a lot about Nick Fury, Spider-Woman, and me over the last few days," Steve continued. "Some of you were even ordered to hunt me down. But I think it’s time you know the truth. S.H.I.E.L.D. is not what we thought it was. It’s been taken over by HYDRA. Alexander Pierce is their leader."

Down in the communication center, Steve spoke directly into the main PA microphone, his voice echoing through every hallway, hangar, and office in the facility.

"The STRIKE and Insight crews are HYDRA as well. I don’t know how many more there are, but I know they’re in the building. They could be standing right next to you. They almost have what they want: absolute control."

Steve gripped the microphone stand, his voice carrying the weight of a century of fighting for what was right.

"If you launch those Helicarriers today, HYDRA will be able to kill anyone that stands in their way... unless we stop them. I know I’m asking a lot. But the price of freedom is high. It always has been. And it’s a price I’m willing to pay. And if I’m the only one, then so be it. But I’m willing to bet I’m not."

The message ended. For a long, heavy moment, the room was silent.

Then the Councilmen looked directly at Pierce.

And something in Pierce’s expression shifted.

.

.

.

.

As Steve stepped back from the microphone.

Kurt let out an impressed whistle. He turned to Maria Hill with wide yellow eyes. "Captain America and Professor Xavier have the exact same level of goosebump-giving speech skills."

Natasha snorted as she checked the magazine of her pistol. "Maybe it’s related to their similar ages."

Kurt smiled, then placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder. With a BAMF and a puff of smoke, both men teleported out of the room to join the main strike force.

Hill immediately sat down at the main console, her fingers flying across the keyboards as she locked down the comms channels and secured their feed.

Natasha took up a defensive position near her. Even with Hill’s skills, if she was killed before they could replace all three targeting blades, the entire mission was over.

Suddenly, Hill’s eyes widened as she stared at the security feeds.

"Steve, your speech worked," Hill called over the comms. "A massive firefight just broke out between loyal S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and Hydra in the launch control room. But... someone just initiated the launch sequence."

"Copy that," Steve replied.

Down in the hangar, Steve turned to the army standing behind him. They were a mixed force of sixty highly trained elite soldiers on loan from General Ross, alongside Spider-Woman, Rogue, Kurt, and Gambit.

They had divided into three teams to breach the three Helicarriers simultaneously.

Team Charlie: Kurt, Gambit, and twenty soldiers.

Team Bravo: Spider-Woman, Rogue, and twenty soldiers.

Team Alpha: Just Captain America and twenty soldiers.

"Alright, people," Steve said, securing his shield. "Let’s roll out."

Gambit spun his bo staff, a wild, kinetic-charged grin on his face. "Woo! I’m’bouttomakeanameformyself!"

The war began.

It was S.H.I.E.L.D. versus Hydra. In the headquarters, in the hangars, and inside the massive Helicarriers that were slowly rising into the sky. It was brutal and unkind. Hesitation meant death.

Despite Team Alpha lacking the heavy-hitting mutant firepower of the other two teams, Steve’s unmatched leadership and strategic thinking pushed them through the Hydra barricades faster than anyone else.

"Alpha is locked," Steve panted over the comms, sliding the first server blade into the Helicarrier’s mainframe.

"Copy that. Alpha is locked," Hill confirmed from the comm station.

As Hill and Natasha monitored the chaotic situation, Natasha heard heavy footsteps approaching the command room door. She casually stepped out into the hallway, fired three quick, precise shots from her suppressed pistols, and stepped back inside, letting the Hydra agents fall to the floor.

"Clear," Natasha said simply.

But when she turned back to face the room, the Black Widow froze. Her eyes widened in absolute shock.

Because sitting casually in the spinning chair right next to Hill, who was choking on a black dog collar, was someone they knew would eventually show up... but not here... not like this...

"Hello, girls."

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