Chapter 118
Avengers
Arc 8 - Ch 10: Leader
Monday, February 27, 2012.
Location: Joint Dark Energy Mission Facility, Mojave Desert, Nevada
Tyson sat across from Dr. Samuel Sterns. Their two brilliant minds were locked in combat as their gazes fixed on the chessboard between them. Tyson's skin had taken on a faint green tinge, and his forehead subtly expanded beneath his wild hair.
Sterns moved a knight. "Your move, Mr. Smith."
Tyson studied the board, calculating countless possibilities in seconds. He shifted a pawn, setting up a complex stratagem. "Tell me, Dr. Sterns, how are you finding your accommodations?"
"Spare me the pleasantries," Sterns scoffed, countering the move. "We both know this is illegal detention."
"Is it?" Tyson raised an eyebrow, fingers hovering over a bishop. "The laws surrounding SHIELD's jurisdiction are quite broad. There are many exceptions, especially for superpowered threats."
Sterns leaned forward, his oversized cranium casting a shadow across the board. "Superpowered? I possess no such abilities."
Tyson fixed him with a deadpan stare. "Then what, pray tell, am I absorbing to keep up with you in chess?"
A flicker of annoyance crossed Sterns's face. He moved a rook aggressively. "Why do you insist on engaging in this pointless pursuit? Our matches either drag on for hours or end in minutes as we calculate an impossible number of moves through games ad nauseam."
"The reason for your incarceration and my presence here are the same," Tyson replied, countering the rook's advance. "I'm concerned about you, Samuel. Cases of extreme intelligence like yours often lead to a dangerous lack of empathy and emotion."
"Concern?" Sterns sneered. "Is that what you call this imprisonment?"
"I'm the only one strong enough to directly interact with you without risking being compromised or allowing your escape. You know this."
"Ah, yes, the mighty Mirage," Sterns mocked, plotting his next move. "Tell me, how does it feel to be SHIELD's lapdog?"
"I prefer to think of myself as a rising star among one of the world's premier law enforcement agencies," Tyson replied, matching Sterns move for move, quip for quip. "One who recognizes and can counter the world's potential dangers."
Sterns snorted. "Danger? I seek only to advance human knowledge and capability."
"At what cost?" Tyson challenged, capturing one of Sterns' pawns.
"Progress always comes with a cost," Sterns countered, his queen sliding across the board. "You were there when they apprehended me. You saw the potential of my work."
Tyson nodded, his own queen moving to intercept. "I did. I also saw the devastation your 'advancements' caused. You weren't there to see the Abomination. I stopped him, but not before he killed."
"Collateral damage," Sterns dismissed with a wave.
"And that's precisely why you're here." Tyson's voice hardened. "Your inability to see the value of individual human lives makes you dangerous."
Sterns laughed, a cold, mirthless sound. "And you're any different? How many have fallen to your powers, Mirage? How many minds have you invaded, bodies you've puppeteered?"
"The difference is, I recognize the weight of those actions. I feel the burden of each life I've affected." For a moment, something vulnerable flickered across Tyson's face before he composed himself.
"Sentiment," Sterns spat, moving his bishop aggressively. "A weakness that holds our species back."
"It's what makes us human," Tyson countered. "Check."
"But you're not human. You're a mutant. And neither am I." Sterns frowned, studying the board intently. His fingers hovered over several pieces as he calculated countless possibilities. Finally, he moved his king out of danger. "You can't keep me here forever, you know."
"Perhaps not," Tyson conceded, already planning his next move. "But while you are here, we can ensure you don't harm anyone."
"Harm?" Sterns scoffed. "And what would you know of humanity?" You, who can steal the very essence of a person with a touch?"
"Does that not make me the most qualified to understand humanity? Everyone I touch, I understand far more than any other could," Tyson replied, moving his knight to counter. "It forces a level of empathy and compassion. Things your intellect seems to have left behind. Consider this. How difficult would it be to kill someone when you know everything about them? All their struggles, experiences, everything that made them who they are."
Sterns paused, genuinely considering this for the first time. Then he shook his head. "Weaknesses, all of them. Imagine what you could accomplish if you shed such limitations."
"I have," Tyson said quietly. "And the world that results is not one I want to live in."
The game continued in tense silence, each move a calculated risk, each piece a weapon in their intellectual arsenal. Minutes stretched into hours as they played, reset, and played again, their minds locked in an endless battle of wits.
As they set up the board for yet another round, Tyson spoke. "You know, Samuel, there's more to life than mere intellect."
Sterns snorted. "Says the man absorbing my intelligence to keep up."
"I'm not just absorbing your intelligence," Tyson corrected. "I'm experiencing your perspective, your thought processes. And I can tell you, there's a coldness there that's deeply troubling."
"Coldness? Or clarity?"
"There's nothing clear about reducing the value of human life to a number in your equations. It's a myopic view that ignores the complexity of our existence."
Tyson moved his bishop, capturing one of Sterns' pawns. "Tell me, Mr. Smith, when was the last time you left this base?"
"I haven't left since I arrived here."
"Doesn't that make you as much a prisoner as it does me?"
Tyson laughed, and for the first time in their conversations, it sounded genuinely amused rather than diplomatic. "I suppose it does. I'm shackled to you for now."
"And he thinks it's funny," Sterns said, his voice dripping with disdain.
"There's one big difference. I could leave if I wanted to. And no one could stop me."
"So why don't you?"
"Why do you want me gone?" Tyson asked, fingers hovering over a knight. "So you could implement some scheme?"
"If I were scheming, you would know," Sterns replied matter-of-factly.
Tyson nodded. "Yup."
"I think you're waiting for something," Sterns probed.
Tyson replied cheekily, "I'm waiting for you to move your rook."
"Ha ha," Sterns said dryly. He studied Tyson, dissecting every micro-expression. "And more than that. You're using me."
Tyson didn't bother hiding his intentions. "Yup."
"For what?" Despite himself, Sterns found his curiosity genuinely piqued.
Tyson tapped his head, and Sterns stared, waiting for elaboration. Finally, Tyson admitted, "You're aware I absorbed Magneto. A mutant terrorist with powers over the electromagnetic spectrum and ferrokinesis. Beyond that, he was a genius, certainly not on the level of someone like you, but at the lower rungs of what I would consider super-level intellect. He created a machine that would trigger the X-gene in humans, turning them into mutants. But it didn't work. It turned them into mush."
Sterns laughed at this; not his usual cold, mirthless sound, but genuine entertainment at what he perceived as inferior intellect.
Tyson rolled his eyes, recognizing the reaction for what it was.
"A fallacy," Sterns declared, his voice dripping with condescension. "Next, you'll tell me you're using my intellect to fix his machine. How droll. With the little explanation you've given me, I already know how the machine works and a likely fix. So, try again."
Tyson smiled, appreciating the challenge. "Fair enough. You're right. Figuring out how to fix the machine only took a day. So, I've been working on other projects. Stable nuclear fusion using magnetic containment and an efficient distribution network."
"The failed Oscorp demonstration at the Stark Expo." Sterns interrupted, his mind already several steps ahead.
Tyson nodded, unsurprised at Sterns's quick deduction. The Stark Expo events had happened days before he was captured. "Doctor Octavius works with me now."
"Undoubtedly brainwashed," Sterns accused.
"Actually, Oscorp tried to use the AI within his mechanical arms to program loyalty into him. Once we fixed that, he was happy to continue his work with us for a pay boost and freedom and protection from a corrupt corporation."
"Unlimited energy. At least you're not wasting your time with my intellect on something frivolous."
A mischievous glint appeared in Tyson's eyes. "Actually, I work on science for like half the time. The other half, I study, but I haven't retained as much as I hoped. I've learned two languages, Japanese and American Sign Language. But mostly, I just go back to my room and find the most efficient ways to complete video game achievements. Japanese was so that I could watch anime without the subtitles on. ASL so I can talk trash to people's faces without them understanding. Sure, I could do that using illusions, but it never hurts to have a backup."
Sterns stared at him, his face a mask of disbelief and irritation. "You're insufferable."
Tyson grinned, enjoying the frustration he was causing the arrogant scientist. "Perhaps. But I'm also effective. While you've been sitting here, stewing in your brilliance, I've been putting that borrowed intellect to use."
"Borrowed?" Sterns scoffed. "You're a thief, nothing more."
"A thief implies I take without giving anything in return. I'd say it's more of an exchange. I gain knowledge, yes, but I also gain perspective. Understanding. It's why I can sit here and play chess with you for hours on end without succumbing to the same cold, clinical worldview that landed you in here."
"And what makes you think your worldview is superior?"
"Because I can see the value in both," Tyson replied. "I can appreciate the beauty of pure intellect, the elegance of a perfectly solved equation. But I can also see the worth in laughter, in acts of kindness, in the messy, chaotic beauty of humanity."
"Sentiment," Sterns spat, moving his bishop aggressively.
"Not sentiment. Balance. Something you seem to have lost along the way, Samuel."
"Balance is for those too weak to commit fully to progress."
"And progress at any cost is the path to destruction," Tyson replied. "You're so focused on what can be done that you never stop to consider if it should be done. Unlike you, I'm not operating in a vacuum. I'm part of a team and accountable to others. My decisions are checked and balanced, willingly."
"Shackled," Sterns corrected. "Limited by the small-mindedness of lesser intellects."
Tyson shook his head. "Guided by the wisdom of diverse perspectives. There's more to progress than raw intellect, Samuel. There's ethics, morality, and empathy. These aren't weaknesses. They're the foundations of a society that can sustainably advance."
He leaned forward. "You should be glad for those shackles. If I didn't have them, would you still be alive? No one would be able to stop me if I absorbed you. SHIELD wouldn't mourn your death and likely wouldn't even punish me so long as I continued using your ability to assist them. They'd probably approve of it. Since you're doing nothing to help them or anyone else, it would be a step up."
Sterns's face remained impassive, but unease flickered in his eyes.
"Beyond your personal stake, you're a smart man. You know how strong I am. Magneto was an Omega-level mutant. No one could match his strength in manipulating the electromagnetic spectrum. My level of control is immeasurable. I'm not certain, but I'm sure if I tried hard enough to increase my raw output and had the drive, I could shift the Earth's magnetic poles."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "What would happen if I did so, doctor?"
Sterns's mind kicked into gear, his voice clinical as he explained. "A sudden shift in the Earth's magnetic poles would be catastrophic. The magnetosphere, which protects us from solar radiation, would be severely weakened. We'd see widespread electrical grid failures, satellite disruptions, and potential climate changes. The increased radiation could lead to higher cancer rates and genetic mutations. Navigation systems would fail, causing chaos in transportation. The geological stress could trigger earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, and tsunamis. In short, it would be an apocalyptic event."
Tyson nodded slowly. "And yet, I'm sitting here playing chess with you."
"Then you're going to go back to your room and play video games," Sterns added, causing Tyson to chuckle.
"I know you're lying," he accused.
"Guilty," Tyson admitted with a grin. "I actually use your knowledge to find creative applications of my power."
Sterns leaned forward, again interested, despite himself. "Such as?"
Tyson held up his hand, and sparks began to dance between his fingers. The air crackled with energy, causing the hairs on Sterns's arms to stand on end.
"Magneto never fully utilized the electric part of electromagnetism. By manipulating the flow of electrons in the air, I can generate concentrated electric blasts. The process involves ionizing the air molecules around my hand, creating a path of least resistance for the electrical current. By controlling the intensity and direction of the electron flow, I can produce anything from a mild shock to a devastating lightning-like strike."
Sterns nodded. "Impressive. But hardly groundbreaking."
"That's just the beginning. Magneto wore a helmet that blocked all psionics, incoming and outgoing. It was handy for him because he wouldn't need to worry about telepaths messing with his head or locating him. But for me, because I use illusions, it's impractical." He tapped his temple. "The human brain functions on electrical impulses. I can effectively scramble any incoming telepathic signals by creating a localized electromagnetic field around my brain. It's like creating a constantly shifting encryption key for my thoughts."
Sterns was genuinely interested now. "Go on."
"The process involves generating a controlled electromagnetic pulse that matches the frequency of neural oscillations," Tyson elaborated. "This creates a kind of 'white noise' that masks my brain's electrical activity from external detection. By constantly modulating this field, I can prevent telepaths from locking onto my thought patterns or accessing my memories."
"Fascinating," Sterns murmured, his mind racing with potential applications. "And this doesn't interfere with your cognitive functions?"
Tyson shook his head. "Not at all. I've fine-tuned the field. It's like having a personal Faraday cage for my mind, but one that's permeable to my thoughts and powers. Though I admit, with my first few attempts, I almost gave up after shocking myself into a concussion-like stupor. Woke up drooling on myself. Kinda funny in hindsight." Tyson chuckled, but Sterns looked thoughtful.
"The implications are... significant. This method could be adapted using technology. One could potentially shield entire populations from telepathic influence or surveillance."
"True," Tyson nodded. "But that's not all. By reversing the process, I can enhance my psionic abilities. By creating a focused electromagnetic field, I can amplify my neural signals, effectively boosting the range of my illusions."
"You're using electromagnetic fields to modulate your synaptic transmissions?"
"You got it," Tyson confirmed. "It's like overclocking a computer, but for my brain. I can temporarily increase my neural processing speed and enhance the strength of my psionic projections."
"With this level of control over electromagnetic fields and neural processes, forget the large-scale applications. Theoretically, you could influence brain function on a significant level. Mood alteration, memory manipulation, even behavior modification..." Sterns mused.
Tyson's expression grew serious. "And that's exactly why knowledge needs to be handled responsibly. Imagine if someone with less... ethical constraints had access to this kind of power."
Sterns fell silent, staring at the chessboard between them. Finally, he spoke, his voice uncharacteristically subdued. "I see your point, Mr. Smith. Perhaps there is some value in 'shackles' after all."
"Now you're getting it, Samuel. It's not about limiting our potential. It's about preventing abuse. While, admittedly, I worked to improve my powers, I've also worked on the designs for a band that inhibits psionic intrusion. It's low profile and can be worn on the forehead, like a sweatband or tiara, or built into helmets or hats. My people will be protected from being controlled or influenced."
"Sentimental drivel," Sterns dismissed. "Every day with this, again and again. Will it ever end?"
"It's the truth, Samuel. And you'll remain here until you can see that and value life beyond its potential for advancement or exploitation."
"Then I suppose we're destined for many more chess games," Sterns replied dryly.
"I suppose we are. Your move, Doctor."
— Rogue Redemption —
Tyson strolled into Phase 4, his skin still holding its green-tinted hue. Reed Richards hunched over a terminal, absorbed in some complex problem. Ben Grimm nudged Johnny Storm with an elbow. "Look who's here. It's the Jolly Green Giant."
Johnny snickered. "Oh great, he's here to hang out with Reed, not us this time. What a shocker."
Tyson playfully shot back, "Guess my intentions at calculus weren't discreet enough."
Sue Storm, who had been examining a holographic display, let out a surprised laugh. Even Reed glanced up from his work with a rare smile.
Johnny's brow furrowed in confusion. "Wait, what? What's calculus got to do with anything?"
"Don't hurt yourself trying to figure it out. Must be some science joke," Ben chuckled, patting Johnny on the back.
Sue shook her head, still grinning. "It's a math joke, Johnny. You know, derivatives, integrals... intentions?"
"Yeah, still not getting it." Johnny's blank expression didn't change.
Tyson picked up on Sue's explanation. He turned to Johnny. "Let me break it down for you. Have you been able to derive my intentions with your sister?"
Johnny's confusion morphed into indignation. "Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"
Sue's cheeks flushed a light pink, but she couldn't help the amused smile forming. "Tyson, behave yourself," she chided, though her tone lacked any real reproach.
Reed finally looked up from his work, brow furrowed. "I'm not sure I follow. What intentions are we discussing?"
Ben let out a hearty laugh. "Looks like our resident genius is as clueless as Johnny when it comes to flirting."
"Flirting?" Reed and Johnny exclaimed in unison.
Tyson leaned against a nearby console. "Come on, guys. It's just a little harmless fun. Besides, who wouldn't want to integrate with her?" He winked at Sue, who rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a chuckle.
"Now, hold on just a minute," Johnny started. "That's my sister you're talking about!"
Sue spoke up, "Johnny, calm down. It's just a math joke."
"Yeah, a joke," Ben chimed in, amused.
Reed blinked, finally catching up to the conversation. "Oh, I see. It's a play on mathematical terms and... oh." His face reddened slightly as he glanced between Tyson and Sue.
Johnny rolled his eyes. "Ha ha, very funny. At least we don't look like we fell into a vat of food coloring."
"Touché," Tyson conceded. "But I'll have you know this shade brings out the green in my eyes."
Ben guffawed. "Just what we need around here, another wise guy."
Reed interrupted, his excitement cutting through the banter. "Agent Smith, I'd love to get your input on these numbers while you're still able."
Johnny groaned. "And there they go, off into Nerdville. Population: two."
"Make that three," Sue corrected, already moving to join Reed and Tyson.
Ben shook his head. "Looks like it's just you and me, kid. Wanna go grab a bite while the eggheads do their thing?"
"Now you're speaking my language," Johnny grinned. "Last one to the cafeteria buys dessert!"
As Johnny and Ben raced out of the room, Tyson found himself surrounded by displays and eager questions from Reed and Sue.
Reed gestured to a complex holographic display hovering above the workstation. "This, Tyson, is our lightspeed engine project. We're attempting to harness the power of the Tesseract to achieve faster-than-light travel."
Tyson leaned in, studying the intricate schematics. "Fascinating. How does it work?"
"The Tesseract, as you know, is an incredibly powerful energy source," Reed began, his excitement palpable as he dove into his area of expertise. "We believe it's capable of generating what we call 'exotic matter', matter with negative mass and energy density. This exotic matter is crucial for creating what's known as an Alcubierre warp bubble."
Sue chimed in. "The Alcubierre drive theory suggests that by contracting space in front of a ship and expanding it behind, we could effectively move faster than light without violating relativity."
Reed nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly. The Tesseract's energy allows us to manipulate spacetime itself. We're not actually moving through space faster than light. The ship would sit in a bubble of flat space, surrounded by a region of compressed space in front and expanded space behind. This warped spacetime would propagate, carrying the ship along with it."
Sue pulled up another diagram. "The challenge is controlling the exotic matter and maintaining the warp bubble's stability. That's where the Tesseract comes in. Its unique properties allow us to generate and manipulate the necessary exotic matter."
"Alright, I've seen enough episodes of Star Trek. I get how a warp drive is supposed to work," Tyson said, his enhanced intellect processing the complex theories. "Are you going to house the Tesseract within the ship itself?"
Reed's expression grew more serious. "That's one of our biggest hurdles. We're working on a system to channel, focus, and store the Tesseract's energy efficiently. It involves a series of quantum field generators and gravitational lensing arrays."
Sue pulled up another display. "We're also exploring ways to minimize the negative effects associated with FTL travel, like time dilation and potential causality violations."
Reed added, "That's where we're hitting a wall."
"Have you considered the implications of string theory in your calculations? It might provide additional insights into manipulating spacetime at this scale," Tyson mused.
Reed's face lit up with genuine excitement. "That's an intriguing idea. We haven't fully explored that avenue yet. Care to elaborate?"
As Tyson began explaining his thoughts, the three scientists delved deeper into the intricacies of the lightspeed engine project.
As the green hue faded from Tyson's skin, his words trailed off, leaving his explanation unfinished. The sudden shift in his demeanor was palpable, catching the attention of everyone in the room.
Johnny, quick to notice the change, quipped, "And he's back! Is it racist that I like the brown guy better than the green one?"
Tyson shot back with a grin, "Nah, that's like the opposite of racism."
Reed's disappointment was evident as he sighed. "I feel like we were close to a breakthrough on the spatial-temporal translocation."
"Eh, we'll circle back around next time," Tyson shrugged.
"Thanks, Agent Mirage," Reed said, his interest waning as Tyson's intellectual prowess diminished.
Tyson nodded. "You got it, Dr. Richards."
Ben, sensing an opportunity, chimed in, "Hey, can we go a round now?"
Johnny, excited by the prospect, added, "Yeah, throw something crazy at us this time!"
Tyson considered for a moment before responding, "Alright, but I'm letting Sue pick this time."
Sue perked up. "What are the choices?"
Suddenly, the room darkened.
He exempted Reed from the illusion, recalling the scientist's previous displeasure at having his work interrupted.
A spotlight appeared, following Tyson sliding across the floor in his socks, underwear, and sunglasses. He abruptly stopped and said, "Sorry, wrong movie."
The scene reset, and Tyson was now riding a motorcycle along a road next to an air force base as a fighter jet took off, mimicking the iconic scene.
"Option 1: Top Gun," he announced.
Then, without warning, they were all standing in New York City as a figure in the sky blotted out the sun. They looked up to see a gigantic alien spaceship looming overhead.
"Option 2: Independence Day," he declared.
Sue, amused by the choices, said, "I would've been down for Risky Business, but I pick Independence Day."
The scene around them shifted once more, and suddenly they found themselves in the desert. A giant spaceship approached in the distance, its massive form growing larger with each passing second.
Tyson turned to Ben and Johnny, now dressed as a general. "Gentlemen, the aliens are coming. Choose your plane."
They stood on the pavement, surrounded by various military planes. The array of aircraft was impressive, ranging from the F-4 to the F-22.
Johnny bounced on his heels, barely containing his enthusiasm as he scanned the options. "Oh man, this is gonna be awesome! I call dibs on that Raptor over there!" He pointed to a sleek, state-of-the-art fighter jet, its sharp angles and menacing profile a perfect match for his… fiery personality.
Ben took a more measured approach, considering each plane carefully. "I dunno. I'm thinking something with a bit more... substance." He studied an F/A-18 Hornet. "Now that's what I'm talking about. It might not be as flashy, but it's got the muscle to get any job done."
Sue, caught up in the excitement despite herself, couldn't help but join in. "What about me? Do I get to choose too?"
Tyson grinned, pleased by their enthusiasm. "Of course, Sue. I've got something special for you." He waved his hand and conjured an advanced alien spacecraft seemingly out of thin air. It hovered before them ominously with an array of strange technology integrated along its hull.
"For you, Sue," Tyson said, gesturing grandly. "This beauty has unmatched maneuverability thanks to anti-gravity drives. Plus, it's armed with unlimited missiles, plasma cannons, the works."
Johnny crossed his arms, eyeing the craft skeptically. "Aw, c'mon. The cheat code ship? Where's the challenge?"
"Challenge?" Tyson laughed. "We're facing a full-scale alien invasion led by a mothership the size of a city. I figured you'd appreciate having an edge."
Sue ran an appreciative hand along the spacecraft's side, intrigued by the alien design. She paused, considering Johnny's complaint. "Hmm, maybe we shouldn't go overboard. The goal is to have fun together." She smiled wryly at Tyson. "Let's try to keep things interesting for all of us, deal?"
Tyson shrugged. "Suit yourself." He snapped his fingers, and the sleek alien ship disappeared, replaced by a more standard F-15 fighter jet. "Better?"
Sue nodded. "Much." She climbed into the cockpit.
The alien ship in the distance grew larger, its ominous presence adding a sense of urgency to their playful scenario. A warning siren began to ring.
Johnny, unable to contain himself any longer, made a beeline for his chosen F-22. "Last one in the air is alien chow!" he called over his shoulder.
Sue shook her head at their antics but couldn't suppress a smile as she climbed into her F-15. "Boys will be boys, even when facing an alien invasion."
The sounds of jet engines warming up filled the air, mixing with the distant, ominous hum of the approaching alien craft.
As Johnny reached his F-22, he paused, a thought occurring to him. "Hey, Tyson! What about you? Aren't you gonna join in on the fun?"
Tyson chuckled, shaking his head. "Someone's gotta play the part of mission control. Besides, I think you three have this covered."
Sue called from the cockpit of her F-15, looking back at Tyson with a mix of curiosity and concern. "Are you sure? It feels wrong to leave you out."
"Trust me," Tyson assured her, "I'll have plenty of fun coordinating this little adventure from the ground. Plus, someone's gotta keep an eye on Reed, and running these complex scenarios takes a ton of my focus."
As if on cue, Reed spoke up, and Tyson allowed his voice to cut into the illusion. Sounding both confused and slightly annoyed, he asked, "Miss out on what? What are you all doing over there?"
Ben, halfway into the cockpit of his jet, called out, "Just saving the world from aliens. The usual Monday afternoon for us since Mirage got here."
Reed's sigh was audible even over the sound of the jet engines. "Just... try not to break anything, alright? We're supposed to be working, not playing."
"All work and no play makes Johnny a dull boy," Johnny quipped, already ready to go.
Tyson, seeing everyone in position, raised his voice, adopting the tone of a military commander. "Alright, team. The fate of the world rests in your hands. That alien mothership isn't going to destroy itself. Are you ready to become Earth's last line of defense?"
A chorus of enthusiastic affirmatives rang out from the Fantastic... Three, each of them fully immersed in the illusion.
— Rogue Redemption —
Tyson stood on the stage of the auditorium, commanding attention from the packed seats. Security staff and agents from various departments filled the Joint Dark Research Facility's main level auditorium.
A voice called out from the crowd. "Why is movie night mandatory?"
Tyson recognized Johnny Storm's voice instantly. He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward, smiling. "Would you rather I kick you out, wiseass? You probably enjoy my shows more than anyone else."
The audience chuckled. His face grew more serious, scanning the crowd. "All of you should know who I am. Mirage. I do a show in New York. But I've been a SHIELD agent since before that."
He paused. The room fell silent, all gazes fixed on him. "There is a reason I'm here. I'm not just the token mutant. While these shows are for your entertainment, some of these threats I'll be showing you are things you may face in reality."
Suddenly, a figure appeared on stage next to him. The newcomer had slicked-back black hair and an aura of dangerous charm.
"This is Loki, a figure of Norse Mythology, but a threat I fought," Tyson explained, his voice carrying easily through the auditorium. "I can lift 8 tons, yet he was stronger. You've seen me in hand-to-hand training. I'm no slouch. Agent Barton is the only one to beat me in a sparring round, and that's with me limiting myself to human-level speed and strength. Loki beat me one-on-one when I wasn't holding back."
The illusion of Loki smirked, green eyes glinting with malice. Tyson continued, his tone grave. "So enjoy the show, but keep in mind this is training. Learn from my experiences and my failures, and consider how you'll handle these threats if you should face one. What you're about to see isn't just entertainment. It's a glimpse into the reality we face as SHIELD agents. Each scenario, each battle, each decision. They were all real events."
As Tyson spoke, the lights in the auditorium dimmed, creating an atmosphere of anticipation. The image of Loki faded away, leaving Tyson alone in the spotlight. He paced across the stage, his presence filling the space. "You might think you're prepared for anything. But trust me, the threats we face are beyond what most of you can imagine. Aliens, gods, monsters. They're all real, and they're all potential enemies."
A murmur ran through the crowd. Some agents shifted uncomfortably in their seats while others leaned forward, wide-eyed with interest.
"Take Loki, for example," Tyson continued, gesturing to where the illusion had stood moments before. "He's not just some myth come to life." He scanned the audience, making eye contact with as many agents as possible. "You've seen me train. You know what I'm capable of. But against Loki, all of that wasn't enough. That's the level of threat we're dealing with."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. The silence in the auditorium was palpable.
"But it's not just about strength," Tyson said, his voice softening slightly. "It's about cunning, strategy, and the ability to think on your feet. Loki isn't just strong. He's smart. He's manipulative. And like me, he can create illusions that fool even the most perceptive among us."
Suddenly, multiple versions of him appeared across the stage.
"See?" Tyson said, his voice coming from all the copies simultaneously. "This is the kind of trickery you might face. How do you fight an enemy you can't even be sure is real?"
The copies vanished, leaving only the real Tyson on stage. "That's what these sessions are about. Not just showing you the threats but teaching you how to think, adapt, and survive when faced with the impossible."
He walked to the edge of the stage, leaning forward slightly. "Some of you might be wondering why I'm the one doing this. Why not just show your mission reports or training videos?"
His gaze swept across the audience, noting the mix of apprehension and fascination on their faces. "Because I've lived it. I've faced these threats head-on. I've made mistakes, I've had victories, and losses. I've learned lessons that can't be taught in a classroom or a training simulation."
He straightened up, his voice carrying a note of challenge. "So, yes, Johnny, this is mandatory. Because the next time you face a threat like Loki, or something even worse, I want every single one of you to be as prepared as possible. Your lives, and the lives of countless civilians, may depend on it."
Tyson took a step back, his expression softening slightly. "But don't get me wrong. This isn't just about scaring you or making you paranoid. It's about empowering you. Knowledge is power, and the more you understand about these threats, the better equipped you'll be to face them. And let's be honest. Some of this stuff is pretty damn cool. You're going to see things that most people can't even imagine. Just remember, behind every spectacular display of power, there's a potential threat that we need to be ready for."
Tyson clapped his hands together, the sound echoing through the auditorium. "So, are you ready to see what's really out there?"
The audience responded with a mix of cheers and determined nods. Even Johnny Storm, who had started the session with skepticism, leaned forward in his seat, focused on Tyson.
"Alright then. Let's get started. Remember, enjoy the show, but keep your minds sharp. What you learn here could save your life one day."
With that, Tyson disappeared, and the lights went dark. He began filling the auditorium with vivid images of battles and encounters that seemed too fantastic to be real. But as the agents watched, they knew that every scene, every fight, every moment of triumph or defeat was a lesson they needed to learn.
Tyson couldn't stop what was coming.
Loki would arrive with the Mind Stone. The Battle of New York would happen. That's why he chose Loki as his first example. Hopefully, it would stick in their heads. But he would do what he could to save the men and women here and subtly prepare them for what was coming.