Because of Kurogai's quiet interventions, the story of the Fantastic Four had already veered far from its destined path. Without Reed Richards to bind them, the group was fractured, their fragile balance broken. Johnny Storm flaunted his flames, Ben Grimm wrestled with his monstrous form, and Victor Von Doom's ambition pushed him toward confrontation instead of strategy.
Now, without leadership or trust, their powers became weapons turned against one another.
Kurogai watched the clash unfold in the abandoned construction site, his crystalline eyes catching every spark of energy, every ripple of heat. Ben roared as he swung stone fists like wrecking balls, Victor unleashed streaks of raw energy, and Johnny danced arrogantly between them, his flames drawing most of their fury onto himself.
Susan Storm clutched Kurogai's arm, anxiety breaking through her composure. "Kurogai, he's my brother. Please, can't you stop this before Johnny gets himself killed?"
Kurogai's gaze never wavered from the battlefield. "He chose this. If he provoked them, then he must bear the weight of the fight. Pain is sometimes the best teacher." His voice was calm, but firm.
Her lips parted to argue, but he added quietly, "If the boy truly reaches the edge of death, I'll intervene. But not now. Not yet."
Susan exhaled, torn, but she knew better than to push him further. Deep down, she trusted his judgment, even if worry still burned in her chest.
Kurogai's expression shifted suddenly. His eyes turned pale, glowing like polished ivory. "Old friends approach," he said softly.
Through his enhanced vision, he saw them before they arrived—helicopters cutting across the skyline, armored vehicles rumbling below, and at the forefront, a bald man with a single stern eye.
Nick Fury. Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.
The scale of the fight had exceeded the reach of the NYPD or the National Guard. Only S.H.I.E.L.D. could be expected to respond, and Fury wasted no time.
But Fury was not alone. A gleam of metal lit the clouds as a figure streaked through the air—Iron Man himself, Tony Stark, descending with thrusters flaring.
Kurogai smiled faintly. "So, even Stark has been pulled in. These fools must have made quite a mess."
His gaze shifted again, catching movement at ground level. A wheelchair rolled forward, accompanied by familiar silhouettes. A bald man in a suit, followed by mutants of every shape and size.
Professor Charles Xavier and his X-Men.
"Well now," Kurogai muttered with amusement. "S.H.I.E.L.D., Stark, and the X-Men all gathered in one place. Quite the spectacle. In the original world, rights and politics would never have allowed such a scene."
Susan tensed beside him. "What is it? Who's coming?"
He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It's nothing. They won't get inside."
Amethyst light flickered through his eyes, and a phantom version of himself shimmered into existence. The Falling Sakura Mirage had created another Kurogai—perfect in form but temporary in life. With a calm gesture, the doppelgänger stepped away, moving toward the approaching forces outside.
Susan blinked in shock. "Two of you? How is that possible?"
"One of my abilities," Kurogai explained with a faint smile. "This shadow will be enough to keep them distracted. Focus on the real show."
Together, they turned their attention back to the chaos inside.
Outside, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents fanned out, weapons at the ready. Iron Man landed with a heavy thud of metal boots against concrete.
"Fury," Stark called through his suit's speakers, "Intel says there are three enhanced individuals tearing the place apart. Loud, flashy, strong. Sounds like my kind of crowd."
"Don't underestimate them," Fury warned, voice sharp. "They've leveled half a block already. We're not dealing with amateurs."
Stark smirked inside his helmet. "My suit can handle it. But first—why don't we invite our little observers out into the open?" His scanners swept the area, locking on the presence lurking nearby. "Care to join the conversation, Professor?"
A pause followed before Charles Xavier rolled calmly into view, flanked by his X-Men.
"Professor X," Fury muttered, his one eye narrowing. The situation was already messy, but mutants arriving meant more complications, more politics.
"We're not here to interfere," Xavier said evenly. "Only to confirm whether these new powered beings are kin to us. If they are not, we will leave it at that."
Stark groaned. "Great, another round of speeches. How about we just take a look inside before the building comes down?"
He started forward—but before he could advance, a chilling wave swept over the lot. The ground crystallized, ice racing across pavement and steel. An iceberg erupted, sealing the entrance to the construction site.
From atop the frozen wall, a voice cut through the air—calm, cold, unyielding.
"This road is closed."
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