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All the fanfiction is 10-chapter ahead but this "Villain Summoner in Marvel" is 10 chapters ahead there
Here's my Patreon: "patreon.com/Hussain678"
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On a quiet morning, the sun had just risen, casting warm orange light across the city. Steve Rogers—Captain America—and Sam Wilson were dressed in athletic gear, arriving at a beautiful park in Washington, D.C. Their daily morning runs, a moment of peace amidst busy lives, had become a cherished routine.
Steve and Sam had always been close friends and partners, both in the world of superheroes and in everyday life. These morning runs were not only a time to talk and share, but also a way to maintain their health and readiness.
"Good morning, Sam," Steve greeted with a smile.
"Morning, Steve. What a beautiful day," Sam replied, returning the smile.
They began jogging, their pace and breathing falling into rhythm. The park air was crisp and refreshing, and birds sang merrily in the trees, as if welcoming the new day.
Suddenly, a figure appeared in the distance—it was Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow.
Natasha moved with athletic grace, her slender but powerful figure showcasing her exceptional physical abilities. Her long legs and well-toned waist emphasized her agility and poise. Dressed in tight athletic wear, her muscles were defined and strong, radiating confidence and flexibility.
Her golden hair fluttered in the breeze, her cheeks flushed with the morning run, and her green eyes gleamed with sharp intelligence and determination. Natasha waved to Steve and Sam, a confident, energetic smile on her face. Morning runs were her way to stay in peak condition, and she took pride in her skills.
"Hey, you two! Wait up!" Natasha called out loudly, sprinting toward them.
Steve and Sam turned their heads simultaneously, surprised by her striking presence.
"Good morning, Natasha," Steve said with a smile.
Sam returned the smile, quietly admiring her athletic form and charisma.
Natasha arrived quickly, her expression bright and lively.
"Good morning, guys! I heard you run here every morning, so I decided to join today."
Steve welcomed her warmly.
"Of course, Natasha, glad to have you join us. Morning runs are great for your health."
Sam grinned.
"Yes, Natasha. Ready to experience our morning run?"
She nodded enthusiastically.
"Absolutely. I hear you tell some amazing stories during your runs," she said with a teasing smile.
…
After finishing their run, Sam waved goodbye and left.
Steve's expression grew serious. He knew Natasha hadn't joined their run just for fun—she had something important to discuss.
Steve and Natasha sat side by side on a park bench, their faces solemn. Natasha's voice was calm but firm as she relayed conclusions drawn from Nick Fury's intelligence analyses.
"Steve, based on intel from the agency, the conflict between Hawk Group and those superpowered soldiers is only part of Hydra's larger plan. Their goal is to create chaos worldwide for their own purposes."
Steve furrowed his brow, knowing just how dangerous Hydra could be.
"So you're saying Hydra isn't gone. Where are they?"
Natasha's eyes were resolute.
"The Director's intelligence indicates that some high-ranking Hydra operatives are hiding in the U.S. They are secretly manipulating forces, trying to create disorder, and even seize control of the nation's future."
Steve took a deep breath, realizing the gravity of Hydra's plot.
"This is too dangerous, Natasha. If they succeed, the consequences would be catastrophic."
Natasha nodded gravely.
"Yes, Steve. We must stop them—find these hidden Hydra members and expose their plan. But it won't be easy. As we've seen, they can position superpowered soldiers around the Hawk Group. Their influence in government and the military is extensive."
Steve thought for a moment, then said,
"We'll need Nick's help—he may have more intel and resources. We might also need to go to Hawk Group; they should have key information."
Meanwhile…
In New York, sunlight streamed between skyscrapers, illuminating every corner of the bustling city. Nick Fury drove his armored, bulletproof vehicle through the crowded streets, his expression tense. He knew the world would never be peaceful, and his duty was to protect it.
Suddenly, four police cars sped in from different directions, sirens blaring, lights flashing. Fury immediately went on high alert—these weren't ordinary officers, but a coordinated attack.
He assessed the situation quickly. His vehicle was armed with advanced weaponry, but the number and equipment of the approaching cars made them formidable. He needed an escape—fast.
The police cars surrounded him, cutting off all escape routes. Bullets struck the vehicle's bulletproof windows, but they held firm. Fury focused, scanning for any chance to break free.
Suddenly, one of the police cars rammed into his vehicle, shaking it violently, almost tipping it over. Fury barely maintained control, but the car was badly damaged.
He gritted his teeth and activated the vehicle's weapons systems. Machine guns and missile launchers fired at the disguised attackers. A fierce firefight erupted in the narrow streets, sending bystanders into panic.
Hydra's operatives were highly trained, skillfully evading missiles and attempting to surround Fury. Explosions and debris echoed between buildings.
"Damn it," Fury muttered, thinking fast.
He took a risk, driving his car to the base of a high-rise. His instincts told him the building might be controlled by enemy forces—but he hoped to draw attention and buy time to escape.
As expected, the attackers believed Fury had cornered himself.
But they were wrong.
Fury exited his vehicle at the ground floor and dashed inside the building, feeling the enemy closing in, convinced of their imminent victory.
Instead of moving upward, he abruptly veered to the building's side, smashing through the walls like a missile, crossing the street at incredible speed.
The attackers were caught off guard, unable to react. Fury's vehicle emerged on the other side, crashing onto the street below.
Though heavily damaged, he had escaped. Fury continued driving calmly, trying to shake the pursuers while sending urgent messages to his colleagues.
Just as he thought he was safe, a silver-armed warrior descended from above, smashing his metallic arm onto Fury's vehicle with a deafening impact.
The airbags deployed, protecting Fury, but the force threw the car violently, and he hit his head, leaving a faint cut.
Shaking, Fury crawled out, locking eyes with the silver-armored warrior. The figure was massive, clad in gleaming armor with a black helmet concealing his face—an unstoppable force.
"Who are you?" Fury demanded, fingers brushing his concealed weapon.
The silver-armored warrior said nothing, staring intently. Suddenly, a shockwave erupted from him, knocking Fury back several steps. Pain radiated through his body as he collided with a wall.
The warrior advanced relentlessly. Fury barely raised a hand to block, but his strength was no match.
A powerful strike from the silver arm crushed Fury's arm with a loud crack, sending agony through his chest.
Fury collapsed, unable to resist. The warrior loomed over him, cold and merciless.
"Nick Fury," the warrior said in a deep, threatening voice, "tell me everything about the Super Soldier serum."
Fury gritted his teeth, knowing he could never reveal this secret—but he also knew he had no room to maneuver.
"I won't tell you anything, you murderer," Fury said resolutely.
The warrior raised his silver arm for another deadly strike.
Then, a bolt of lightning struck him, sending him flying.
Electro appeared with cold precision, standing between Fury and the warrior.
"Silver Arm."