The commotion in the hall was beginning to die down. The hostages were being guided outside by the paramedics, agents loaded the terrorists one by one into the vans, securing handcuffs, heads lowered, and posture controlled to prevent resistance.
Legion —already in human form— stood in front of Meier, who was still processing the disaster… or the salvation, depending on how you looked at it.
"Commander," Legion said, crossing his arms naturally, "those were all the attackers, at least in this area."
Meier let out a sigh.
"Good," she murmured. "And the explosives?"
"Ah, that," Legion pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "I gathered them all and left them at a safe distance, behind the hotel. They haven't been disarmed yet, but I jammed the trigger signal. They won't be able to detonate them, accidentally or on purpose. Your team can handle it calmly."
Meier blinked. That was no small feat.
"I see…" she said thoughtfully, eyes fixed on him. "I truly appreciate your intervention, Legion. Really. But…" she huffed, genuinely tired, "next time, at least send a warning. A message, a note tied to a pigeon, whatever. I almost had a heart attack when I heard all those gunshots."
Legion smiled behind the helmet.
"You're right. I promise I'll warn you." He made a friendly gesture with his hands. "It was a complicated situation; I preferred not to waste time. But I don't want anyone on the good side ending up with arrhythmia because of me."
Meier couldn't help but let out a short laugh.
"Thanks for considering it."
"Now, if you don't mind…" Legion stretched his arms upward. "I'm going to stay around the hotel grabbing something to eat. I'm starving. That way you can tell your real boss that I'll be sticking around for a bit, until you finish with the explosives."
The commander tensed slightly. Very subtly. Her hand moved instinctively toward her belt, where her gun rested. She didn't take it, but she brushed it with her fingers — a gesture Legion noticed, though he pretended not to.
He simply turned around halfway, giving a casual salute.
"See you, 'Commander'."
And he walked out through the broken door, calmly heading outside, where the blue and red lights of the patrol cars silhouetted him against the hotel entrance.
Meier watched him walk away, frowning. She didn't know what to feel — relieved that things had gone well, or worried now that her identity might have been exposed.
One of her agents approached quickly.
"Commander? Are you okay?"
She nodded, returning to reality.
"Yes… yes. I'm fine." Her voice regained firmness. "Attend to the injured, secure the area, sweep the entire building, top to bottom."
"Yes, ma'am."
"And I…" she paused briefly "…have something to do."
She left behind the noise of medics and officers, heading toward a more remote section of the parking lot. There, between two trees and out of sight of any curious eyes, she checked three times that no one else was around.
Then she reached into the inner pocket of her tactical jacket and pulled out a small black earpiece.
She brought it to her ear.
She hesitated for a second.
And turned it on.
=========================================================
The silence in the Helicarrier's break room was deceptive.
Nick Fury shuffled three cards in his hands while glancing sideways at Maria Hill. She wore that minimal, almost invisible smile that only appeared when she was about to win.
"You sure you want to keep going?" Hill joked as she arranged her hand.
"Shut up and play," Fury replied without lifting his gaze.
They were about to continue when Fury's communicator vibrated sharply on the table.
The tension in the room vanished as both stared at the device.
She sighed and placed her cards face down.
"Answer it," she said. "I already know how this ends."
Fury clicked his tongue and laid his cards down as well before standing up. He pressed the communicator.
"Speak."
The voice that answered was firm, but the background revealed contained professional tension.
"This is Agent Hanssen, sir. Reporting that… Code green, sir. I found him."
Fury straightened up and closed his eye for a moment.
"Send me your location," he ordered. "I'll be there as soon as possible."
He was about to cut the transmission when he heard:
"Sir…" Hanssen called again, her tone tight. "There's something else."
Fury paused.
"Go on."
"It is highly probable that Legion knows my real identity. My cover as Commander Meier may be compromised."
Fury nodded slightly.
"Stay calm, Agent Hanssen," he finally replied. "There are protocols for compromised identities. Proceed as normal until I arrive."
"Yes, sir."
Fury cut the channel and returned to the table, where Hill was waiting with her arms crossed.
"Everything okay?" she asked, unmoving.
"Code green," he said simply. "You're in charge."
Hill nodded instantly at that. Then she turned her own cards face up… revealing a hand that completely crushed Fury's.
He pressed his lips together as he flipped his. Nothing he could do.
"Damn it," Fury muttered.
Hill was already pocketing the small stack of cash they had bet.
"Always a pleasure, Director," she said, perfectly stoic, though her eyes sparkled with amusement.
"Don't get used to it," he grumbled while walking toward the exit. "Luck always runs out."
"Not mine, sir," Hill replied.
Fury raised a hand without looking back.
When he reached the hangar, the Quinjet was already waiting for him, engines on, ramp lowered.
Nick Fury boarded without stopping.
"Destination: Switzerland," he ordered.
And the Quinjet took off toward the place where Legion had agreed to meet.
==============================================================
POV: LEGION
The bread crunched softly as I took another bite of the choripán. Juicy, hot — perfect. I washed it down with a sip of ice-cold Coca-Cola; the fizz rose in my throat in a way that can only be described as sublime.
Yeah, this is definitely the life.
The view in front of me was even better. The Swiss mountains looked like something from a mural — massive, white, silent. Nothing like that time when I was seven and saw snow for the first time with my parents and my brother. Back then it had just been a few shy flakes falling from the sky, almost decorative. But this… this was a completely different monster. Overwhelming. Majestic. Beautiful.
I took another sip of Coke and let the sweet, cold taste linger in my mouth a little longer.
Then I heard it.
Turbines, faint but unmistakable, behind me.
"Hmph… he got here faster than I expected," I muttered mentally as I took another bite.
Of course Fury would be fast. The guy lives in a permanent state of alert. I wondered what approach he'd take this time.
Would he come as the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., with that authoritarian tone he always uses? Or would he be a little more humble this time?
I thought about it as I chewed, enjoying the choripán. It was funny: I could face monsters, kidnappers, improvised weapons and explosions without blinking… but imagining Fury trying an emotional approach was what really required mental preparation.
The Hydra issue resurfaced in my mind again, an annoying memory that never quite shut up. I had countermeasures planned — several, maybe too many — but none ready to execute. Some pieces were still missing. Some moves. Some adjustments.
Should I say something to Fury now? Warn him? Or was it better to wait until everything was solid, precise, perfect?
I shook my head.
No. Not yet. Everything depends.
Depends on how Fury handles the conversation. On whether he comes to listen… or to demand.
I took the final bite of the choripán just as I felt his footsteps approaching.
"Well…" I thought, wiping my hands with a napkin. "Let's see what kind of talk this is going to be."
And I raised my eyes to receive him, ready to adapt in a second to whatever he brought with him, expecting to see the eyepatch, the trench coat, the permanent frown…
But no.
"…La concha de la lora" (For f***'s sake) I said out loud.
Because instead of the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., there came Tony Stark. Impeccable suit. Dark glasses. Martini in hand. And a smile so big it could have sold renewable energy all by itself.
"Ahhh!" he breathed in deeply, spreading his arms as if hugging the Alps. "The clean, refreshing air of Switzerland. I never get tired of it."
I froze, food halfway down my throat.
Tony walked up to me as naturally as if he weren't interrupting absolutely everything and sat down in front of me without asking. He took a sip from his martini and smiled at me with that arrogant-charming air that defines him.
"Well, well…" he said, tilting his head. "I can't see your whole face, but if I had to guess, I'd say you're surprised to see me. Don't tell me you were waiting for someone else."
I sighed, tilting my head slightly to one side.
"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you intercepted the message…"
Tony clicked his tongue.
"Hacking S.H.I.E.L.D. is child's play. They lock the door and leave the window wide open. A classic."He finished his martini — in one gulp — and pointed at me with the empty glass. "And speaking of windows… you've been ignoring all my messages. The public ones, the party invitations, the official ones where Tony Stark — the great Tony Stark — requested your presence."
He made an exaggeratedly dramatic pout.
"You ignoring me breaks my heart. I thought we were friends."
I wiped my mouth with a napkin. The helmet sealed back over my head, hiding my expression.
"I don't remember being friends with a billionaire philanthropist…"
Tony raised one finger.
"And playboy. Please, the full title."
"Yeah, that," I replied, resigned.
He laughed, satisfied, and rested an elbow on the table.
"Well then," he said, "since we're so close… I'm inviting you to my place. I've got a couple of things I want to show you, and I'd love to talk them over with you. A little genius chat. Nothing too complicated. What do you say?"
I paused.
Because with Tony Stark, a "genius chat" could mean anything from him having invented a new material to him accidentally creating a homicidal AI over breakfast.
And I was not in the mood for chaos.
Then I checked the time on my HUD.
Fury and Tony in the same place, wanting the same thing?
Absolutely not. I'll deal with Fury later.
Besides, if I kept ignoring Stark, he'd just keep showing up, bothering me and sending weird messages through television broadcasts.
I sighed.
"Alright," I gave in. "We'll talk. But I don't want any nonsense from you."
Tony jumped up instantly.
"I promise it'll be a wonderful meeting!"
Stark's jet looked more like a luxury toy than a real aircraft. Polished metal, elegant lines, not a single visible flaw. Even parked, it radiated speed. I walked beside him in silence, barely hearing the crunch of snow beneath my feet. Tony moved as if this was his personal stage, setting the pace with an irritating confidence.
Off to the side of the path, standing still with his head down, was the agent Meier had left to watch me.
I recognized the posture immediately. He wasn't injured. He wasn't unconscious… just defeated. Like someone who had just lost a game without ever moving a piece.
I slowed my pace slightly as I passed him by. My helmet's sensors didn't register real danger, only rapid heart rate and a spike of stress. I looked at him with mild curiosity. Poor guy… something had obviously just happened to him.
I turned my head slightly toward Stark, who kept walking calmly, practically whistling, while the jet's ramp began to lower in front of us.
"Stark…" I said in a neutral tone. "What did you do to him?"
Tony let out a small, low laugh.
"Nothing traumatic. Well… depends who you ask."
I looked at the agent again. He still didn't dare lift his eyes.
"Did you threaten him?" I asked, more to confirm my theory than out of real concern.
Tony shrugged.
"I just explained, in great detail, how much I value honesty in marriage. And how uncomfortable it would be if his wife found out he has a… secondary romantic enterprise in Zurich."
I lightly shook my head, letting out an almost amused exhale.
"You're an asshole, you know that?"
"An asshole with talent," he corrected, as he stepped onto the jet's ramp. "Come on, kid. You're gonna love the trip."
I gave the agent one last look — like a scolded child — then followed Tony inside.
The interior was even more over the top: wide seats, luminous panels, dark glass letting me see the Alps drifting away in the distance.
As soon as we sat down facing each other, the ramp closed and the takeoff was nearly imperceptible. No harsh vibration, no loud noise. Just that slight pressure in the chest that told you you were no longer on the ground.
Tony snapped his fingers and a small tray slid out from a side compartment with bottles and glasses.
"A drink?"
Then he gave me another look… and frowned.
"Ah, right…" he pointed with the bottle. "For a second I forgot you're underage… Want one?"
I raised an eyebrow behind the visor.
"I don't drink alcohol."
"Boring…" he muttered.
He poured one for himself anyway and took a small sip.
"When I was eleven I used to steal drinks from my dad," he commented with a nostalgic smile. "He used to hide them in his office so my mother wouldn't find them, and I thought he was a genius. Spoiler: He wasn't." He laughed. "Still, he never caught me stealing them… he caught me drunk."
I couldn't help a slight laugh.
When he finished his drink, he sat back facing me again and studied me for a few seconds, distractedly evaluating me.
"Tell me, kid… what type of woman do you like? Asians? Blondes? Brunettes? Goths?"
I shook my head, confused.
"What's that about?
Tony shrugged, taking another sip.
"A man's taste in women says a lot about who he is… or who he's going to become."
I sighed and looked out the window for a second, watching the white mountains slowly disappear beneath us. Then I looked back at him.
"I don't really have a defined type," I admitted. "But if I had to choose one… I'd say redheads."
As I said it, a memory hit me somewhere in the back of my mind: the 1994 Spider-Man animated series, afternoons in front of the TV before they took it off the air… and Mary Jane. Without realizing it, she had been my first platonic crush.
Tony raised his glass in my direction, like an imaginary toast.
"Redheads…" he smiled. "Great minds think alike."
Then he tilted his head thoughtfully.
"Although… I've got my eye on Pepper. So you're gonna be a good kid and not try anything with her, understood?"
He paused, pretending to think out loud.
"Also, I don't think she's into younger guys, but… I like schoolgirls, so… maybe she does too…"
He shook his head, dismissing his own thought.
I stared at him in complete silence for a few seconds.
"…Right. Sure."
In my mind, there was only one thought:
Fury definitely would have been calmer than this.
==========================================================
POV: FURY
As soon as I stepped out of the Quinjet, the freezing Swiss air hit my face hard. I inhaled deeply, more out of habit than necessity, as my eye automatically scanned the perimeter.
I saw her a few meters away.
The undercover agent, "Commander Meier," was waiting for me — rigid, back straight, expression neutral. When I reached her, she raised her hand in a perfect military salute.
I acknowledged it with a simple nod.
"Take me to the target," I said, without wasting words.
"Yes, sir," she replied, turning to guide me. "I left one of my men watching him while I came to meet you."
We walked in silence across the hotel courtyard.
We saw him before we even reached the spot.
A soldier standing stiff, staring blankly at the ground. His posture wasn't vigilant — it was defeated.
"Commander Meier" quickened her pace, visibly irritated.
"Where is he?" she demanded quietly but firmly when she was in front of him. "Where is Legion?"
The man lifted his eyes, uncomfortable.
"I… I couldn't do anything, ma'am."
I frowned.
"Explain yourself," I ordered.
He swallowed hard.
"Tony Stark arrived. He landed nearby like it was nothing. He came down, walked straight up to him and… I tried to stop him, I swear… but he threatened me. He said if I so much as touched him, he would… publish my identity and the commander's on every news channel in Switzerland. He said he had everything ready… pictures, names, locations…"
I saw the agent's jaw tense.
Stark…
I stepped forward without saying anything, leaving both of them behind. The spot where Legion had been sitting still carried the faint signs: a footprint in the snow, a moved bench, and… a half-finished bottle of Coca-Cola resting on the table.
Under it, a folded piece of paper.
I picked it up and unfolded it. A simple message:
"Another time, Fury. Stark got here first and is unbearably persistent when it comes to his invitations. We'll talk later."
I clenched the note in my hand. Folded it carefully. Slid it into the inner pocket of my coat. Then I lifted my gaze to the gray, cloud-heavy sky.
I inhaled slowly.
And cursed under my breath.
"Damn it, Stark…" I muttered, more to myself than to anyone else.
The agent approached cautiously.
"Orders, sir?"
I lowered my gaze, refocusing.
"We proceed as if none of this ever happened," I said. "No one mentions Stark. No one mentions Legion. Secure the area, finish cleaning up this mess and follow protocol."
She nodded without hesitation.
As she walked away, my mind inevitably returned to the same thought:
If Stark had taken Legion… who knows what that crazy bastard is planning.
============================================================
HELLLOOO, HOW ARE YOU ALL?We're going to leave it here for now. In the next chapter, we'll see our protagonist and Tony talking about the future, security, and ideals. We'll get a look at what's going through the man of steel's head.
Tell me what you thought! I'll be reading your comments closely.Remember what I told you about the reviews and the Christmas special I'm planning? If we reach 10 total reviews, we've got a deal.
P.S.: This is just a message to clarify something I'll also include in the synopsis: this is not a story where the protagonist is overpowered. Hacking the Omnitrix would very likely be impossible — don't underestimate Azmuth's masterpiece.
This is not a power fantasy and there won't be a harem either. I'm trying to keep everything making sense, but I'm still a novice at this (literally my first fanfic, and it amazes me how far I've gotten), so sometimes I might miss a few things.
At some point later on, I will take one or two weeks to revise the first 25 episodes. Nothing in the story will change, I'll just fix grammar mistakes and improve the sentences now that I feel more comfortable writing.
That's all for now.See you in the next chapter.
Kisses :)