Chapter 218 to Chapter 226

  ...

  "Wow~~"

  "What in the world..."

  "Incredible, such power."

  The spectators were awestruck, their exclamations filling the air. The blazing torches lit the surroundings with such intensity that the lingering frost melted away, transforming the landscape into a vast expanse of snow.

  This was the legacy of Asgard's former enemies—tens of thousands of Frost Giants and Frost Behemoths.

  Thor and the Avengers, excluding Sergei and Pietro, had experienced firsthand the terror these creatures brought. Their sheer numbers, combined with strength and speed that rivaled Asgardian warriors, made them formidable. With their rough skin, thick bodies, and command over frost, they were no mere opponents.

  Even Thor, mighty as he was, struggled against the Frost Giants in large numbers. But thanks to the battlefield prowess of Sergei and Pietro, who together decimated 20,000 to 30,000 Frost Giants, the tide of battle turned. Without their intervention, survival—let alone victory—would have been a distant hope.

  In the end, this massive army, including the Frost Giant King Laufey, capable of freezing entire worlds, was utterly annihilated.

  There was no grand explosion, no blinding display of power—only the terrifyingly calm destruction of a once-great force. The simplicity of their demise was chilling, leaving an oppressive weight in the air.

  The Frost Giants, who had once ruled Jotunheim and waged war against Asgard, were now nothing more than a footnote in history. Their legacy reduced to ash, they were a minor entry in Leon's burgeoning career of dominance.

  The harsh reality of this world was evident: the strong take everything—glory, admiration, and power. The weak, on the other hand, are left to struggle silently, rising if they can, or perishing if they cannot.

  Odin's rule over the Nine Realms was no different. Beneath Asgard's brilliance lay the bones of countless conquered races, their blood forming an ocean beneath the kingdom's iron heel.

  Laufey, the Dark Elves, the Fire Demons—all had once opposed Asgard. While they had surrendered, their hatred remained, simmering through the centuries. They waited for the day Asgard's strength would wane, yearning for revenge that never came.

  Leon gazed at the falling ashes in the distance, their destination unknown. The sight spurred a quiet resolve within him—a reminder of his unyielding desire to become the strongest of all.

  This conviction had driven him since the day he led Wanda and the others out of their base. Laufey's demise was merely another step on his path.

  After the battle, Leon turned to Wanda. His gaze, filled with reproach, made her lower her head sheepishly.

  "I was wrong~~" she muttered, sticking out her tongue in mock regret.

  Leon rolled his eyes and ruffled her hair. "I'll teach you a lesson when we get back."

  The sky was still overcast, and heavy rain began to pour, washing away the remnants of the battle. The ground was scarred with countless craters and cracks, while Keira's fire had reduced the Frost Giants to ash—thoroughly, down to their genetic code.

  Even if someone managed to collect their remains, it would be impossible to reconstruct their genes through biotechnology. Leon had no intention of underestimating Earth's scientists and their knack for creating trouble.

  Wanda suddenly spoke up, her voice soft. "Leon, the Destroyer..."

  She had previously stored the Destroyer armor in the Mirror Dimension. Her tone betrayed her thoughts—it was a valuable asset.

  Leon smirked knowingly. "Destroy it."

  "Got it~~" Wanda replied with a cheerful grin, catching his meaning immediately.

  The Destroyer armor, once a symbol of Odin's power, had long since lost its significance. While its materials were exceptional and enhanced Odin's strength, the armor itself had been battle-damaged and reforged, never regaining its original glory.

  Now, with Odin's sun setting, the armor was merely a relic—a weapon of diminishing importance. By Asgardian tradition, trophies of war were not returned, and Leon had no plans to break that custom.

  However, an unsettling feeling gnawed at Leon. He felt as though he were being watched.

  His gaze snapped to the left, and a wave of overwhelming energy erupted from his eyes.

  Boom!

  Far away, in the grand hall of Asgard's Palace, Loki froze. His usually pale face drained of color as cold sweat dripped down his temples.

  The familiar surroundings seemed to warp. The once-majestic hall appeared inverted and chaotic, pulling Loki into a nightmarish realm.

  In the swirling haze, distorted visions of cities and faces loomed, a cacophony of chaos. Then, a thunderous voice echoed, majestic and unyielding:

  "There is no next time. Otherwise, you will die."

  The stormy command shattered Loki's resolve, leaving him trembling. Despair gripped him as if his death was imminent.

  Then, the illusion broke like a shattered mirror, and Loki found himself back in the Palace, shaken but alive.

  ...

  Loki stood motionless in the hall, his eyes filled with fear. His chest heaved as he breathed heavily, cold sweat trickling down his forehead. He knew exactly whose voice it was and why it had suddenly appeared in that place.

  The instigator of everything—the one who had casually massacred Laufey and his entire army—was none other than Leon.

  Although Loki hadn't faced him directly, the sensation he'd just experienced was akin to being submerged in the deepest ocean, surrounded by pitch-black darkness. The crushing pressure of seawater seemed to squeeze him into pulp. The suffocating, breathless despair left him utterly powerless.

  Was it some kind of magic?

  No. It couldn't have been magic. Loki, a master of the arcane, was certain of that. The other man seemed to possess a way to pierce through the boundaries between dimensions and reach into his very soul. In a manner Loki couldn't comprehend, his soul had been dragged into that strange, despair-filled world.

  Loki was sure of one thing: if Leon wanted to kill him, he could have done so effortlessly—even from two worlds away.

  The sheer terror of that realization paralyzed Loki. The overwhelming power Leon exuded reminded him of facing Odin as a child—a majesty that pressed down on him with an irresistible force. Just one glance from Leon was enough to snuff out all hope of survival.

  Such a force, now revealed to exist in a realm Loki had once dismissed as insignificant, filled him with regret and dread.

  Why had it come to this?

  Loki's plans had crumbled. Thor was alive and had regained his divine power. The Frost Giants he had allied with had been slaughtered. He was utterly alone. When Thor returned, Loki knew what awaited him: the judgment of Asgard.

  And he understood all too well that, despite being Odin's son, his actions were unforgivable. The best outcome he could hope for was exile, stripped of his powers and heritage. The worst was execution.

  The thought of such a fate was unbearable. Loki's eyes flickered as his resolve hardened. He had to escape.

  "My dear brother," he murmured to himself, a sinister gleam in his eyes. "I look forward to our next meeting."

  Leon gently guided Wanda to the ground after their confrontation with Loki. Below, Thor stood with Sif and the Warriors Three. Seeing Leon and Wanda descend, Thor stepped forward, his gaze briefly resting on Wanda before addressing Leon.

  But before Thor could speak, two figures—Sergei and Pietro—rushed toward them, their faces alight with relief.

  "I appreciate your help, my friends," Thor said warmly.

  "Haha, it was our honor to fight alongside you," Sergei replied, grinning.

  "You've given us a new understanding of humanity," Pietro added.

  Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three exchanged heartfelt embraces with Sergei and Pietro. Sif, with her warrior's grace, gave Wanda a warm hug.

  Finally, Thor and his companions turned to Leon. Solemnly, Thor struck his chest with his right hand—the highest mark of respect in Asgard.

  "Thank you, Leon, and your companions. Without your aid, I would not have understood my father's teachings, nor regained my former glory."

  Thor's tone was steady, filled with gratitude. "On behalf of Asgard, I also apologize for the unnecessary war that we brought upon you."

  Though Thor's personality was heroic and larger-than-life, he carried himself with humility and decorum when addressing those worthy of respect. His demeanor, regal yet earnest, made Leon nod in approval.

  "You truly embody what your father once said—that you would be the greatest king of the Asgard lineage," Leon said softly.

  Thor's companions smiled, but his expression turned pensive. "Have you met my father?"

  Leon nodded. "He is a wise king and a good father."

  Thor's face fell slightly. "It's a pity I disappointed him."

  "Believe me," Leon said, placing a reassuring hand on Thor's shoulder, "everyone has moments of failure. You've grown up basking in glory, lost your way, and now you've found it again. But this is only the beginning—you must keep moving forward."

  Despite Leon's age—he was not yet twenty—his words carried the weight of an elder's wisdom. Thor, Wanda, and the others listened intently, captivated by his mature aura and the authority he exuded. Leon's presence alone demanded respect, a combination of his power, temperament, and charisma.

  "Thank you," Thor said earnestly. "The light of friendship will shine between Asgard and Midgard. We are loyal to our allies and will never betray them. Midgard will also be a home I cherish and protect."

  Thor's solemn vow was met with nods from Leon and his companions.

  "If war arises again, my friends and I will fight alongside you," Thor continued, determination blazing in his eyes.

  Turning to his fellow Avengers, Thor embraced each of them warmly. His cheerful, straightforward nature ignited camaraderie, even with those from vastly different worlds—particularly someone like Logan, who thrived in battles fought side by side.

  After promises to drink and share tales in the future, Thor finally bid farewell to Leon. "Asgard faces a crisis, and I must return to resolve it."

  He paused, glancing toward the distance. "Please, convey my apologies to Jane, Dr. Selvig, and the others. I will always cherish the time I spent with them. And I'm sorry for the destruction this battle caused—I will bring my reparations the next time I visit."

  With a final nod, Thor departed, his resolve burning brighter than ever.

  ...

  Leon and Wanda Return to the Manor

  After the intense battle in the small town, Leon escorted Wanda back to the manor.

  That afternoon, Leon mentioned having tea with Natasha. Ever since the two confirmed their relationship—and took it to the next level—they had been spending a lot of time together. Both Leon and Natasha were in exceptional physical shape, which occasionally led to challenges in keeping their sparring and training contained. The manor itself wasn't built to withstand their combined strength.

  Natasha's Russian heritage was evident not only in her fiery personality but also in her combat style. Once a spy, her approach had been precise and lethal—one strike to incapacitate her target. But after her physical enhancements over the years, Natasha no longer needed to hold back. Her ferocity was now on full display, something made evident during her battle with Abomination on the streets of New York. It was an all-out, no-holds-barred display of strength.

  Even their sleeping arrangements reflected their intensity. A standard bed simply wasn't sufficient, leading to frequent retreats to a secluded wooden villa in the mountains.

  Wanda, blissfully unaware of their private escapades, greeted Natasha with a cheerful wave before opening a portal to Kamar-Taj. She was eager to explore books on forging magical weapons and remained entirely oblivious to the subtle dynamics brewing around her. As a teenage girl, Wanda lacked the sensitivity to notice such nuances. Even if she had realized it, her reaction might have been one of mild jealousy rather than anything drastic. After all, the bond among the trio had deepened over time, making them inseparable.

  Leon, for his part, made it clear that he wouldn't abandon either of them. To some, this arrangement might appear scandalous, but to them, it was a harmonious balance of love, respect, and mutual understanding.

  ...

  In the serene atmosphere of the manor's lawn, Natasha lounged under the sun. She wore a simple white shirt, shorts, and sunglasses, her relaxed posture exuding confidence. A glass table beside her held tea and fresh fruit, while a few maids stood nearby, waiting attentively.

  Leon approached from a distance, and as he drew near, two maids quickly pushed a small dining cart forward.

  "Good afternoon, sir," one of them said.

  "Good afternoon, Natalie. A cup of black tea, please," Leon replied with a nod.

  The maid swiftly prepared his tea, adding a few ice cubes—just as Leon preferred in this weather. After handing him the cup, she stepped back with the others, leaving the pair in peace.

  Natasha glanced briefly at Leon, then back at her laptop.

  "Everything go as planned?" she asked without preamble.

  "More or less," Leon replied, sipping his tea. The cool, refreshing taste was perfect for the summer heat.

  Natasha closed her laptop and leaned back, her gaze steady. "Thor almost froze the Earth. That idiot has a knack for overdoing things."

  Leon chuckled. "It was a farce. Letting Thor regain his powers ended it quickly, though Laufey's dramatics cost him everything. I don't mind cleaning up messes, but I won't tolerate unnecessary trouble. If there's an enemy, I'll eliminate them outright."

  Natasha's lips curled into a sly smile. "I like this side of you—decisive and commanding."

  Setting her laptop aside, she stretched like a sleek, contented cat, then leaned into Leon, her lips brushing against his neck. The maids discreetly averted their gazes, pretending not to notice the intimate moment.

  Leon embraced Natasha, enjoying the warmth of her presence. They whispered softly to one another—sometimes about mundane matters, sometimes about significant decisions regarding their shared ventures. As they spoke, Leon's hands moved idly, his affection evident in his every gesture.

  Eventually, the conversation gave way to silence, and Leon, unable to resist Natasha's allure any longer, scooped her into his arms. The two vanished in a flash, retreating to their private haven, leaving the maids behind with their memories conveniently altered.

  ...

  Back at Stark Tower

  Later that day, in the temporary Avengers base at Stark Tower, Leon joined Tony Stark, Rhodey, and a few others in the lounge. Drinks flowed freely as they exchanged stories and plans for the future.

  Peter Parker and Typhoid Mary, however, were notably absent, having had no part in the recent battle. Still, the lively atmosphere was a testament to the camaraderie that bound the team, even as each member navigated their own challenges.

  ...

  After the Avengers gathered in the small town, Leon and Natasha took charge of assigning tasks but did not participate directly in the battle.

  Tony Stark, perhaps driven by instinct, had assigned young Peter Parker and Typhoid Mary to protect the evacuated civilians rather than engage in combat. Tony felt that Peter's inexperience made him ill-suited for the fight, while Typhoid Mary's unstable mental state posed a potential risk. Moreover, Tony wanted to ensure that the evacuated civilians were safe from opportunistic predators who might take advantage of the chaos.

  After all, war, no matter how justified, is rarely clean or honorable—it's about winning, sometimes at any cost.

  When Leon eventually appeared and the tide turned decisively in their favor, the battle ended with a hard-won victory. Peter, for his part, took the situation in stride; his sense of responsibility outweighed any frustration about being sidelined. Protecting people, after all, was still a vital part of the mission.

  Typhoid Mary, however, was livid. Her more aggressive personalities—Bloody Mary and Typhoid—thrived on combat, and being relegated to the sidelines was a personal affront. Worse still, Leon had appeared during the battle, but she had been stuck elsewhere, unable to prove herself to the man she admired. Her simmering frustration nearly drove her to attack Tony outright.

  The tension between them grew so palpable that neither Peter nor Mary attended the Avengers debriefing.

  ...

  Meanwhile, Tony stood on the balcony of Stark Tower, wearing a crisp white shirt and holding a thick-bottomed wine glass. The city stretched out below him, alive with activity. Though the strange cold wave had come and gone, its suddenness left people uneasy, speculating about its cause.

  Logan lounged on a nearby sofa, a cigar in one hand and an expensive glass of whiskey in the other. Storm sat to his left, her arms crossed, while Colossus occupied the seat to his right. Logan glanced at Tony's back, about to speak, when the elevator chimed.

  All heads turned as the doors slid open. Nick Fury, flanked by Maria Hill, Professor Charles Xavier in his wheelchair, Clint Barton, and Peter Parker, entered the room.

  "Director Fury, Professor, Peter!" Jean Grey greeted them warmly, standing alongside the others.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Fury acknowledged her with a nod and moved to the center of the room. Tony finally turned around, taking a measured sip from his glass.

  "Do I need to find you all some chairs?" Tony asked, his voice laced with dry humor.

  "If you're offering to fly down and get them, be my guest," Fury shot back without missing a beat.

  The brief exchange ended as Fury's expression grew serious. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'll get straight to the point. Today's battle may be over, but it's just the beginning. Based on intel from Jane Foster, Dr. Selvig, and others, we're looking at a larger, more dangerous threat on the horizon."

  He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the room. "Next time, it won't be a handful of Frost Giants threatening to turn the Earth into an ice cube. It'll be armies—armies arriving in battleships."

  Logan took a drag from his cigar, exhaling a plume of smoke. "Well, that's disappointing," he muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

  Fury's one good eye fixed on him. "Anyone can feel disappointed, Mr. Howlett. But the Avengers don't have that luxury."

  Professor Xavier spoke up, his calm demeanor contrasting with Fury's bluntness. "Director Fury is right. The Earth's survival and the future of human civilization depend on our ability to work together. The enemy may be formidable, but united, I believe we can face any threat."

  Charles's words carried a quiet conviction that resonated with everyone in the room. Even Tony, known for his rebellious streak, found himself silently respecting the Professor's insight.

  Nick Fury folded his arms, addressing the group once more. "As people who were in the thick of the fight, what are your thoughts?"

  Cyclops, standing near Jean, was the first to speak. "The government's response was appalling. We faced an army of Frost Giants, including massive beasts with thick hides, and Laufey, who could've frozen the entire planet. Yet there was no meaningful military support. Tanks were slow to mobilize, and the Air Force was nowhere to be seen."

  He adjusted his visor. "If it weren't for the incredible efforts of Sergei and Pietro, we wouldn't have lasted long. It's clear we can't rely on the government in these situations."

  Fury remained stoic. "There are reasons for that, Scott. First, the government believed the Frost Giants were targeting Thor Odinson specifically. They weren't willing to risk war with an alien civilization over him. Second, the weather during the battle—thanks to Storm—was so unstable that sending in fighter jets was impossible. The electrical storms would've fried their instruments, making them liabilities rather than assets."

  Storm raised an eyebrow, her voice tinged with sarcasm. "How convenient for them."

  Fury continued undeterred. "The bottom line is that the government doesn't act unless it sees a direct threat—or a benefit. That's reality. But that's why the Avengers exist. We do what others won't."

  His words hung in the air, a sobering reminder of the burden they all carried.

  ...

  "In itself, from their position and perspective, this is the logical choice, Storm," Tony said calmly, his gaze meeting Storm's.

  Storm, as a mutant, had a natural dissatisfaction with the government and retorted sarcastically. But Tony, unfazed, understood her frustration.

  Facing the group's collective stares, Tony took another sip of his wine and explained, "You must realize that Laufey and the Frost Giants were primarily targeting Thor Odinson. From a pragmatic standpoint, the sane choice to avoid unnecessary losses is to sit on the sidelines."

  "Without benefits, why would anyone risk war with another civilization for one person?"

  "So?" Storm raised an eyebrow, her tone sharp.

  Tony shifted gears. "While it's understandable from their perspective, that doesn't make it the right decision. Sitting on the sidelines avoids losses, yes, but it's conservative and short-sighted."

  He gestured with his glass for emphasis. "Thor isn't just anyone; he's a member of Asgard's royal family and its future king. Asgard is far more powerful than Earth. We don't know what dangers we'll face in the future or how other cosmic civilizations will view us—friendly, neutral, or hostile. I don't trust the kindness of the universe."

  The room grew quieter as Tony's words sank in.

  "To stand alone in this vast cosmos is foolish. Earth needs allies. Strong allies."

  Tony's gaze sharpened as he continued. "And Asgard is the best candidate. Based on the intel gathered by S.H.I.E.L.D., we know our world is just one of the Nine Realms tied to the World Tree. Asgard sits at its center, dominant and advanced. They cross dimensions with ease, live for thousands of years, and possess immense power, as Thor and his warriors demonstrated in battle."

  Jean Grey's voice broke the silence. "That explains why Director Fury and Professor Charles pushed for us to join the fight. Gaining Thor's favor as the future king of Asgard could influence their stance toward Earth."

  Tony nodded appreciatively. "Exactly. Whether Odin exiled Thor to Earth intentionally or by coincidence, it gave us a unique opportunity. Befriending Thor strengthens Earth's position in ways no government strategy ever could."

  Logan exhaled a puff of smoke, smirking. "You guys are pretty crafty. Can't say I thought about all that, but Thor and his friends? They've got guts. I wouldn't mind having more like them around."

  Tony, however, remained focused. His expression darkened as he leaned forward. "But here's the real issue: who is Leon? And while we're at it, what about Wanda and Pietro Maximoff, Sergei, and Natasha? These people appeared out of nowhere—like ghosts."

  The room tensed at the shift in conversation.

  Tony's voice dropped. "I'm not bragging when I say the AI I developed is unparalleled in the digital age. If I wanted to, I could crack into the Pentagon's most secure databases in minutes. But no matter how deep I dig, I can't find a shred of information about Leon or most of his team.

  "Sure, Wanda and Pietro have a documented past. But the rest? Blank slates. No history. No traces. It's like they materialized out of thin air."

  Tony's eyes scanned the room. "From the intel Fury provided, you encountered them at the Stryker base years ago. So tell me—what do you know about them?"

  The group exchanged uneasy glances.

  Tony pressed on. "Leon isn't just anyone. He's powerful enough to reverse time itself. Time isn't something tangible. It's not something humans—or even most beings—can grasp. In history, only gods have wielded such control over time.

  "So, what is Leon? A human? An alien? A god?"

  Tony's voice carried a rare note of unease. "And Natasha... A confirmed defector a few years ago, now capable of wiping out threats with ease. What changed? Who gave her that strength?"

  The room remained heavy with silence as Tony continued. "Leon may have saved us this time, but until we understand who or what he is, I can't shake the feeling that we're flying blind. Powerful forces that we don't fully comprehend are at play. Are they friends or foes? That's what we need to know."

  Tony's serious tone left the room in a somber mood. Nick Fury, Maria Hill, and Clint Barton exchanged wary looks, sharing Tony's unease.

  Finally, Professor Charles broke the silence. "Mr. Stark," he said, his voice calm but firm, "I understand your concerns. Yes, we know some things about Leon and his team. But let me be clear: they have saved us—saved Earth—and we have always considered them allies."

  Charles's gaze swept across the room, his conviction evident. "Without their consent, I will not reveal their secrets. Trust is what binds us, and I believe in them. But, Tony, why are you so insistent on uncovering their pasts?"

  ...

  The others looked at Tony with puzzled expressions. Compared to Tony Stark—a relatively new ally—they were far more inclined to trust Leon, someone who had proven himself time and again.

  Over the years, they had watched Leon closely. He had rescued children from Stryker's military base, saving lives while asking for nothing in return. Whether it was helping Wanda and Pietro, saving the planet from cosmic threats, or taking personal risks to combat unimaginable dangers, Leon's actions had consistently demonstrated his good intentions.

  Yet Tony Stark, for all his brilliance, couldn't let it go. His insistence on probing Leon's past stirred discomfort among the group.

  Tony remained silent for a moment. Then, with a deep breath, he downed the last of his wine, the glass clinking softly as he set it on the table.

  "I'm scared," he admitted, his voice hoarse.

  The room fell silent, everyone caught off guard. The idea of Tony Stark—the billionaire genius, the invincible Iron Man—admitting fear was almost unthinkable.

  Fear? Of Leon?

  Only Nick Fury's face remained impassive.

  Tony pointed a finger toward Fury. "You don't think it's just me, do you? Director Fury's scared too."

  Nick Fury didn't respond, but his silence was telling.

  Professor Charles's sharp gaze flickered. His voice was calm but probing. "Are you afraid of Leon's power? Or is it the possibility that he might harbor ambitions you can't predict?"

  Tony hesitated, his expression unreadable.

  Charles sighed inwardly, then spoke softly. "Your fear is not unique, Tony. You and Nick Fury fear Leon and what he represents—power beyond your control. But let's be clear, fear of the unknown is natural. It's what you do with that fear that matters."

  Logan, never one to mince words, scoffed. "You sound just like those self-important pricks in suits in government—afraid of mutants, scared of anyone they can't leash, but always scheming to get their hands on what they fear most." He leaned forward, his tone sharp and cutting.

  "You guys think you're protecting the world, but let me ask you this: who's been doing the heavy lifting when real threats show up? You? No. It's Leon and his people. Why don't you stop obsessing over control and look at the facts?"

  Logan's voice rose as he continued, his words dripping with frustration. "When Mephisto—the actual King of Hell—showed up a few years ago, who fought him off? Leon. When Stryker was torturing kids in his labs, who put a stop to it? Leon and his team. And that rampaging monster your own military created, Abomination? Who stepped in to clean up that mess? Not you. Leon did."

  The room was dead silent as Logan glared at Tony. "Face it. Without Leon and his people, this planet would've been toast a long time ago. Instead of being afraid, maybe you should try thanking them."

  Tony's face tightened, but he didn't respond. His silence spoke volumes.

  After a long, uncomfortable pause, Professor Charles finally broke the tension. His voice was gentle but firm.

  "Logan's words may be blunt, but they carry truth, Mr. Stark. Leon and his companions are not enemies. They are survivors who have risked everything to protect this world. If not for them, none of us would be here to have this conversation."

  Charles's eyes softened as he added, "Perhaps it's time to set aside your fears and trust them. They have earned that trust. And even if you did uncover every secret about Leon's past, what then? If you anger him, what good will it do? His power could burn everything to ash if he wished—but he chooses to protect instead."

  Tony exhaled sharply, the tension in his shoulders loosening. He turned without a word and walked toward the bar, leaving the conversation behind.

  The White House Meeting

  The President's office was a scene of grim determination. Gathered there were some of the most powerful figures in the U.S.—the President, Vice President, congressmen, military generals, and other high-ranking officials.

  The President sat behind his desk, his posture rigid as he addressed the room. "I've reviewed the footage from S.H.I.E.L.D. regarding the events in Mexico. What are your thoughts?"

  A general was the first to speak. "Mr. President, this incident confirms what we've long suspected—there are advanced civilizations beyond Earth. Their technology and power far surpass ours. We can't predict their intentions, but we must prepare for the worst. That means investing heavily in our military and technology."

  The President's gaze swept the room, silently urging others to speak.

  A congressman stepped forward. "While I agree that military advancements are necessary, let's be realistic. Against beings of this magnitude, even our strongest weapons might as well be toys. Nuclear deterrence isn't enough. We need to develop something... more. Weapons capable of dealing with threats like these on equal footing."

  The room buzzed with low murmurs, the weight of their predicament settling heavily over them.

  The President remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed out the window. Finally, he turned back to the room. "Then we must act decisively. This is no longer just about defending Earth from its enemies—it's about ensuring our survival in a universe far larger and more dangerous than we ever imagined."

  ...

  "The development of cutting-edge technology is our current top priority," declared the president firmly.

  Nuclear weapons remain the most powerful tools of destruction known to humanity. The U.S. nuclear arsenal alone is capable of obliterating Earth's surface a hundred times over. Yet, this remains a suicidal and desperate last resort. In the face of powerful alien invaders, the effectiveness of such weapons is questionable. Moreover, the risks are amplified if the battlefield is on Earth—launching a nuclear strike might kill thousands of enemies, but at the cost of untold collateral damage. And in outer space, our current technology cannot deploy nuclear weapons effectively.

  "Therefore, we must develop more advanced weaponry," the president continued. "In terms of range, power, and speed, we need solutions that surpass our existing arsenal."

  The other officials in the room nodded in agreement.

  "The next question is this," the president said, leaning forward. "In our society, there are hidden groups of individuals with powers beyond human imagination. What preparations are necessary to address this growing challenge?"

  This was the issue that clearly troubled the president the most. Alien invasions and interstellar threats were matters for the future—concerns for a time long after his own lifespan. But the emergence of individuals like Leon and his group struck at the heart of their authority. These were people with powers so immense that they could potentially bend the fabric of time itself. And more importantly, there was the tantalizing possibility that they had transcended the natural limits of human life.

  These two issues consumed the thoughts of those in power. The allure of wielding such extraordinary abilities was irresistible, and the promise of longevity was even more so.

  For these elites—who already enjoyed unparalleled wealth, status, and influence—the idea of extending their reign over their luxuries was intoxicating. Many had already funneled vast resources into biological experiments and advanced medicine, with some efforts veering into unethical human experimentation. Military institutions turned a blind eye to these covert activities, maintaining a fa?ade of plausible deniability.

  "As a part of human civilization, I think they should contribute to society," one congressman suggested sternly.

  The room fell silent as his words hung in the air. Then, the others exchanged incredulous looks. The congressman quickly realized his error and fell silent, embarrassed.

  Even the president sighed inwardly. "Has this man grown so arrogant from his position that he's forgotten reality?" he thought. Forcing such individuals to "contribute" was laughable, especially given their power. The U.S. government had learned its lesson from its dealings with mutants like Magneto and Professor X. The destructive potential of these new individuals made them even more dangerous.

  Leon, for instance, possessed powers that defied comprehension—abilities that could rewrite the fabric of time itself. The group under his leadership boasted equally terrifying capabilities. A single member had shattered frost beasts impervious to missiles, while another had fought the Hulk-level threat of Abomination to a standstill on the streets of New York.

  The thought of confronting such individuals militarily was absurd. Without nuclear weapons—and even then, at great risk—there was no feasible way to suppress them. And these people could fly. What hope did conventional forces have?

  Realizing the folly of any hostile action, the president finally made his decision.

  "Our priority remains the development of cutting-edge weaponry to bolster our military strength. Our scope must expand beyond Earth to prepare for future threats. As for these individuals, SHIELD will take the lead. Whatever methods they use, they must focus on gaining their favor and establishing the possibility of cooperation."

  He paused, then added, "And suppress the current public discourse. I don't want these matters being discussed openly."

  The others nodded silently, understanding the unspoken truth. Freedom of speech had its limits, especially when it came to national security. For now, the public could immerse itself in entertainment and distractions, leaving these matters to those in power.

  Ural Mountains

  A warm morning sun streamed through the windows of a large wooden villa nestled in the wilderness. Birds chirped outside, their calls blending with the gentle rustle of the wind. Inside, the soft light illuminated a rumpled bed where Leon lay, Natasha curled up against his chest. A thin quilt covered the pair, hinting at the passionate events of the previous night.

  Leon opened his eyes and glanced down, meeting Natasha's gaze. Her brilliant green eyes shimmered with a warmth that could melt steel. He smiled, pulling her closer, and kissed her forehead.

  "Good morning, my girl," he murmured.

  "Good morning, my little man," Natasha replied with a tender smile.

  The former assassin sat up, her movements unhurried. She slipped out from under the quilt, standing with effortless grace. Ignoring her bare skin, she bent to pick up her scattered clothing and tossed them onto a nearby chair. Then, with an impish smirk, she shrugged on Leon's oversized shirt. The garment hung loosely on her, just barely covering her undergarments, accentuating her stunning figure.

  Leon couldn't help but admire her. His gaze followed her every movement, appreciation written plainly on his face.

  ...

  Natasha went to wash up, while Leon leaned against the bedside. Outside the window, two birds fluttered in, their wings beating softly as if unafraid of humans.

  He stretched out his fingers, and two tiny paws latched onto them.

  Chirp! Chirp! Chirp!

  The two little creatures chirped at Leon, their eyes brimming with affection. A small smile played on his lips as he reached out with his other hand to gently pat their fluffy heads.

  "You two are starting the day with so much energy. No need to hunt for bugs or worry about food, huh?"

  Chirp! Chirp!

  One bird tilted its head, as if understanding his words, then flapped its wings and flew out of the window. The other followed close behind, calling out as if saying goodbye.

  Leon watched the pair vanish into the sky, then stretched his neck, stood up, and headed to the bathroom to wash up. After freshening up, he walked downstairs in his shorts and slippers.

  On the first floor, Natasha was in the kitchen, wearing his shirt and humming a tune while preparing breakfast. The sight of her back—graceful and enticing—made Leon's heartbeat quicken. Her charm was utterly irresistible.

  Unable to hold back, Leon walked up behind her. Natasha, unaware of his intentions, thought he just wanted to cuddle. She gasped in surprise as his hands wrapped around her, pulling her close.

  "Leon~~" Natasha's soft voice trailed off as the moment took over them.

  What followed was a melody of passion that echoed through the villa, startling a flock of birds outside.

  Two hours later, Natasha lay on the sofa, her energy spent, while Leon carried plates from the kitchen. It was hard to tell if the meal he brought was breakfast or lunch.

  The two exchanged a glance, basking in the calm after the storm.

  "You're insatiable," Natasha teased, poking his forehead with her pale index finger.

  Leon grinned but said nothing. His enhanced physique had only amplified his natural instincts. This desire, coupled with Natasha's allure, was an unstoppable force.

  Despite her mock annoyance, Natasha felt a twinge of pride. She had found her family again, someone who loved her deeply and gave her a sense of security. She wished this idyllic life could last forever.

  But ambition burned within her. She wanted to become stronger, to cultivate loyal warriors for Leon. The very next day, Natasha left on a mission, determined to build a better future.

  Leon wasn't disappointed. He knew they had endless days ahead. Instead of returning to the manor, he stepped through a wormhole, arriving at Tianren Seven.

  The Angel Hall was resplendent, filled with light and majesty. Leon's figure materialized, and Keisha appeared shortly after.

  "Captain Leon," she greeted him.

  "What's the status?"

  Keisha waved her hand, summoning a holographic projection of a gene sequence. The vibrant chain floated in midair as she began her report.

  "According to the Odinson family gene samples we retrieved, there's a 13% overlap with human genes. The remaining 87% represents far superior sequences."

  She gestured toward the projection. "Thor Odinson's genetic makeup grants him a remarkably powerful physique. His body density is three times that of an ordinary human, making him immune to viruses, radiation, and toxins. He can traverse the deep sea or outer space without any equipment. His strength, endurance, and durability allow him to withstand explosions, impacts, and extreme temperatures ranging from 9,000 degrees Fahrenheit to near absolute zero. He even has resistance to magic.

  "Additionally, his genes contain an incomplete sequence, likely inherited from his mother, the Earth Goddess Gaea."

  Keisha's tone turned reverent. "Thor's genes are the most advanced we've analyzed so far. In terms of potential, they rival even angelic genes."

  Leon wasn't surprised. The Odinson family's genetic lineage had been refined over generations, culminating in Thor—a prodigy hailed by Odin as the greatest king in their history. Thor's potential surpassed even Odin's, a testament to the perfection of his genetic inheritance.

  "Keisha," Leon said, his gaze steady, "we need to use Thor's genes to create a new serum. It could elevate us to an entirely new level of potential."

  Keisha nodded without hesitation. "This project rivals the greatest genetic endeavors ever undertaken. We'll need significant computing power."

  "Redirect all nonessential resources," Leon ordered. "Suspend other projects. This takes priority."

  "Understood," Keisha replied, her expression resolute.

  Together, they stood in the Angel Hall, ready to embark on a project that could redefine the limits of evolution.

  ...

  Leon nodded silently.

  Ever since he had acquired the Sky Blade battleship, he had utilized the genetic samples collected from everyone, including Wanda, to create a super gene serum. This serum, specifically tailored for Wanda and the others, optimized their genes and significantly enhanced their potential.

  This was why Wanda and the rest had advanced so rapidly in strength within such a short period. Nearly everyone had reached the general level, with many on the verge of breaking through to the vice-emperor and emperor levels. The serum also greatly extended the golden period of their strength development, ensuring their progress would only accelerate over time.

  For Natasha, Sergei, and the others, there would be no bottlenecks before reaching the Sky Father level. Their strength would continue to grow exponentially.

  However, Leon had not injected the super gene serum himself.

  It wasn't due to any mental reservations; rather, he simply wasn't in a rush. With his current abilities, he didn't feel the need for immediate enhancement. His real power lay in the long-range support provided by the Sky Blade battleship, which effectively granted him Sky Father-level combat capabilities.

  That said, acquiring and utilizing Thor Odinson's genetic sample was a different matter entirely. Once Keira synthesized the god gene, Leon wouldn't hesitate to inject it.

  This was the source of his current joy.

  With the god gene, Leon's strength would skyrocket, enabling him to reach the Sky Father level in record time. Coupled with the support of the Sky Blade series, his power would surpass all others at that level, making him the strongest among the Sky Fathers.

  This had been one of his early plans.

  Moreover, Leon's sign-in system had accumulated a lot of days, the result of three years of diligence. Soon, the other battleships in the Sky Blade Seven series would be completed, heralding another wave of immense benefits.

  Leon was patient. Like a meticulous fruit farmer, he waited day and night for the harvest to ripen.

  Keisha watched as the corners of Leon's mouth curled into a smile. Her bright, beautiful eyes fixed on him.

  Though she was technically a piece of memory data, that didn't mean she lacked emotions. She possessed all the memories of Keisha's angelic form and could rightfully be considered Keisha herself—only without a physical body.

  She experienced joy and sorrow.

  As she observed Leon's steady growth, she couldn't help but feel happiness for her captain. In this universe, one far removed from the original, she yearned to accompany Leon, witness his ascension, and see him reach unprecedented heights.

  Keisha was confident that day would come.

  Asgard

  "Loki, did he truly do this?" Frigga asked, her voice tinged with sadness.

  "Yes, Mother," Thor replied. "Everything he did sparked war. We cannot forgive his actions. He deceived you, Father, and all of Asgard."

  Frigga's gaze softened. "Thor, perhaps you do not yet understand why he acted this way. He's lost and confused. Maybe when you find him, you will understand."

  In the grand halls of Asgard, Thor stood silently, clad in his battle armor, watching as his mother turned and left. Her words lingered in his mind, but he pushed them aside and strode toward the throne room.

  Inside, Sif and Fandral awaited his arrival. As Thor entered, they greeted him with urgency.

  "How is Heimdall?" Thor asked immediately.

  "His abdomen was pierced, but the wound isn't fatal. However, his mind is still clouded by Loki's deceptive magic. He's undergoing treatment, and we believe he'll recover soon," Sif reported.

  Thor nodded grimly.

  "We searched all of Asgard but found no trace of Loki," Sif continued, hesitating. "The guards claim they didn't see him either, Thor..."

  Thor understood her unspoken concern. "Loki's crimes are unforgivable, but we must find him and bring him to trial."

  He clenched his fists. "I'll hunt him down personally. Loki is a master of deception and concealment. If he chooses to hide, he will be difficult to find—especially now that he's taken Gungnir."

  Thor's voice hardened at the mention of the weapon.

  Gungnir was more than just Odin's spear. It was a symbol of Asgard's supremacy and authority. Its loss would cause a scandal among the gods.

  Publicly and privately, Thor resolved to retrieve Gungnir and apprehend Loki as soon as possible.

  "I'll leave Asgard in your care," he told Sif. "Once Heimdall recovers, we'll need his vision."

  With that, Thor turned and left, leaving Sif and the others exchanging uneasy glances.

  Elsewhere

  In a retro-style underground base, a secret Hydra meeting was underway.

  Leading the assembly was Alexander Pierce, former director of S.H.I.E.L.D. and now a minister of the World Security Council.

  Seated at the table were a man in a suit and glasses, a striking blonde woman with a beauty mark near her lip, and an aristocratic man of Eastern European descent.

  "Pierce, why summon us in Hydra's name?" the blonde woman asked, her voice soft as she examined her freshly manicured nails.

  Pierce removed his glasses, his gaze sharp. "Mrs. Ophelia, your recent activities have been quite impressive. Your dedication to Hydra's resurgence is commendable."

  Though his words were flattering, Ophelia narrowed her eyes, sensing the subtle undertone of a veiled threat.

  Among Hydra's leaders, Ophelia was the newest and least established. Compared to someone of Pierce's stature, her position was tenuous.