Chapter 42: The Big Guy from Kansas Finally Shows Up!
"Is it completely dead?"
Dante stared at the mangled remains of Starro—now still and not even twitching—then turned to Hela.
"He's absolutely dead. As the Goddess of Death, I can guarantee I even sliced his twisted soul into pieces."
Hela dropped from the sky, casually running both hands through her hair. The ice dust clinging to her from the battle evaporated instantly.
The fight hadn't been particularly intense for her, but she still looked pleased.
This so-called Starro had given her a long-lost sense of exhilaration.
After a thousand years, she finally felt that rush of battle again.
"Completely dead?"
Dante scratched his head, frowning.
That… shouldn't be it, right?
If Starro was really dead, the mission should've triggered as completed.
And he'd already dug up Captain America.
This "other thing" was now space sushi courtesy of Hela.
So why hadn't the system responded?
Wait—could it be he still needed to melt Captain America ?
Dante frowned deeper and tapped his communicator again.
"Dante! You alive?! What the hell was that giant starfish?! Can we eat it?!"
Harley Quinn's excited voice blasted through the comm.
Dante's eye twitched. Harley could be reliable… for maybe two minutes.
"Harley, calm down. It was just a Universe-class beast."
"Huh? Universe beast? I thought it was some weird hentai monster! Boring. Anyway, didn't you have something to tell me?"
"…What even goes on in your brain—never mind. Did you run the vitals check on Captain America?"
No point trying to follow Harley's ping-pong logic, so Dante got to the point.
"We already did that when you told us to roll out. His metabolism is barely running, but he's definitely alive."
"Then start thawing him out."
"Eh? Ada and Cole already cleared all the ice off the old popsicle."
Harley's answer made Dante freeze.
Captain America—rescued.
Starro—dead beyond all levels of dead.
Yet the mission still hadn't triggered as complete.
Which meant only one thing...
Starro wasn't the "other thing."
Now what?
Where the hell was he supposed to find this so-called "other thing"?
Standing around wasn't helping, so Dante opened a portal and returned to the Airbus with the Asgardian siblings—Hela and Loki—in tow.
And the moment he stepped into the Airbus.
He was greeted by one of the dumbest scenes he'd seen this week.
Coulson, the middle-aged S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, was taking selfies with the half-thawed Captain America lying in the medical bay.
He'd even pulled out his precious, laminated Captain America trading card to get a matching photo.
Dante turned to Harley, who was calmly making coffee in the lab, and asked with a helpless smile:
"How long has he been like this?"
"Huh? Lemme think… Since that big starfish showed up. He was so hyped, he didn't even notice it."
Goddamn.
Turns out, idol worship is a universal disease—age and gender irrelevant.
Even someone as serious as Coulson couldn't resist.
"Coulson! Stop being insane!"
Dante couldn't take it anymore. He stormed over and gave Coulson a gentle but direct slap of reality to the face.
"Dante? Did you just slap me?"
"No one slapped you. Are you so starstruck you're hallucinating now? This is not how a professional agent behaves!"
"I—I'm sorry… I just got too excited."
Coulson looked embarrassed, rubbing his cheek while muttering, "Since we've rescued Captain America, let's head back now."
Head back?
Head back my ass!
Yeah, you got to meet your childhood hero, but my mission is still active!
Dante was just scrambling to come up with an excuse to stay longer in the North Pole when Ada Wong's voice suddenly echoed through the internal comm system.
"Everyone, report to the operations room," she said. Her voice carried a strange note of disbelief.
Everyone immediately made their way to the ops room.
Ada skipped the small talk and opened the electronic projection.
"This popped up when the Airbus reached this altitude."
On the screen, a pyramid-shaped structure made entirely of what looked like crystalline ice shimmered into view.
Dante frowned. Something about that structure felt... familiar.
"We didn't spot this thing when we arrived. It only becomes visible from this specific altitude. From any other height, it's just endless snow and ice."
"And radar from any major country never picked up this structure."
"My guess—it's some kind of alien ruin. Probably shielded by high-level tech. Maybe this angle is the only blind spot."
As Ada analyzed, the moment she said "alien ruin," Dante visibly jolted.
Oh no.
Oh no no no.
North Pole.
Crystal pyramid.
That was the Fortress of Solitude, wasn't it!?
The Kansas Big Guy's personal mancave!
Dante resisted the urge to slap himself in the face—twice.
Of all the things to forget…
He forgot the North Pole was basically Superman's backyard.
Wait.
Didn't the Fortress have an auto-defense system?
If someone so much as sneezed near the thing, it would ping him.
Even if Hela's Starro beatdown didn't look like much, that starfish's awakening had shaken the ice shelf like an earthquake.
That alone might've triggered the Fortress's sensors.
Which meant…
No surprise…
The Big Guy probably already got the alert.
Two unknown entities with extreme power levels had just thrown down on his front porch.
And even worse.
Today was a holiday.
He was probably home.
He could arrive any second now.
And his top speed? Faster-than-light.
Sure, he wouldn't break the speed limit inside the atmosphere, but he'd still get here faster than a Mach 10 jet.
Luckily, no real damage had been done to the Fortress, or Dante might be prepping a eulogy for himself right now.
"I'm still a kid," Dante muttered to himself.
I can't deal with him right now!
"Oh, and I already sent three drones to photograph and scan that structure," Ada added.
"…WHAT?! THREE DRONES?!"
Dante's voice shot up to a pitch that startled Ada into blinking.
"Uh… are three not enough?" she asked, confused.
Dante gave a tight, bitter smile and didn't answer.
"…Actually, three is too few," he muttered.
He pulled up the live feed from the drones—just in time to watch them nearing the Fortress of Solitude.
Suddenly, a blur passed over all three screens at the exact same moment—and then the signal cut.
Dante slapped his forehead.
It's over.
The others were still puzzling over the signal loss when Hela suddenly looked toward the hatch.
WHAM—HISSS—
The airlock opened—not by system override, but by pure physical force.
And in walked the Kansas Big Guy himself.
Blue suit. Red cape. Jawline that could cut steel.
In one hand: the three downed drones.
He politely shut the hatch behind him.
It was the perfect combination of overwhelming force and Midwestern manners.
"Hi, folks. These little toys buzzing around my house—belong to you?"
"Is the North Pole your property?"
"Uh, no, but—"
"No? Then what's the problem with us launching drones in unclaimed territory for reconnaissance?"
"...Guess there isn't one."
"Then shouldn't you apologize? And pay for the drones?"
"Do I look like an idiot?"
"You look like Clark Kent—Kryptonian ancestry, hometown Kansas."
Dante wasn't actually intimidated when he finally showed up.
His Federal Bureau of Investigation Star Team operated by the book, so it wasn't like the guy could just rough them up.
At most, there was a minor quake near his house, followed by a few drones buzzing around. Clark was just here to ask some questions.
After Dante dropped his real name, he only blinked—no dramatic reaction, nothing over-the-top.
Honestly, it looked like he'd expected it.
"You're not surprised?"
"Bruce Wayne talks about you often, Agent Dante."
Clark set the crumpled drone pieces aside and casually sat down on the couch like he lived there.
Everyone except Dante and Harley looked like they were bracing for impact.
Dante glanced at Harley in mild disbelief.
He was chill because he'd already connected the dots on Clark, but… when did Harley get this level of chill?
Then Harley moved.
She walked straight up to Clark—
And tugged on the little curl of hair falling over his forehead.
"Clark? Clark Kent? Since when do you go around wearing spandex?"
"Harleen Quinzel. Long time no see."
"Long time your ass. When I was locked up in Arkham Asylum, didn't you and Bruce Wayne come visit me? Tsk tsk tsk—seriously thought I wouldn't recognize you just 'cause of some glasses?"
"Ahem—well, maintaining a secret identity is necessary for us."
Dante watched Harley banter with Clark and suddenly got a headache.
Jesus. Harley Quinn's contacts in this world were terrifying.
The DC Universe's golden boy and its grumpy sugar daddy were both her old pals?
Where's the justice in that?
"Agent Dante, I'm guessing you're not fully up to speed on our connection." Clark nodded at Dante, totally ignoring Harley now rummaging around for scissors. "Louise, Harleen, and I went to the same university. I was a freshman; Louise and Harleen were already juniors when I got there."
So Harley met Superman and his future wife in college. Graduated and linked up with Batman. And now she's here, draining me dry.
Wait—is she the main character!?
Also... if Louise Lane is 31, and Clark's two years younger, that puts him at around 28 or 29.
A Superman under 30 already nearing peak power?
Feels like someone's running cheat codes.
"So... you and Louise Lane are still in an older woman–younger man relationship?"
"Uh, how should I put it… I don't like reducing our connection to something about age. That just feels reductive—"
"Don't listen to his crap." Harley, still scissor-less, flopped back down next to Dante with a huff. When she heard Clark's vague rambling, she rolled her eyes. "Clark Kent turns into a babbling idiot the second you mention Louise Lane. Anyone who doesn't know better would think they've been married for years. But reality check: he's never even confessed. Not once. Since college."
Clark Kent, under 30, savior of humanity, literally blushed like a kid caught lying to his mom.
Dante, on the other hand, was no longer calm.
"WHAT?! You're not even together yet!?"
"Are you close with Louise Lane, Agent Dante? Why do you ask?"
"Ahem, I mean—of course I've heard of the world-famous reporter Louise Lane. But I bring it up because I think you two are perfect together." Dante leaned in closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing state secrets. "If you're crushing on Louise, then you must know Tony Stark, right?"
Clark was stunned. He hadn't expected an FBI agent to suddenly turn into a dating consultant.
As a reporter at The Daily Planet, he'd interacted with public agencies a lot. Most of them held reporters at arm's length—if not outright hostility.
But the FBI guys he'd met had all been friendly and chill.
Was the entire FBI like this?
Then Dante said Tony Stark, and Clark's entire vibe shifted.
No killing intent, but the guy was definitely not happy.
"Yeah. I know him. Louise and I did an exclusive interview with him once. After that, Tony Stark started showing up constantly. Even invested in The Daily Planet just to get closer to her."
"See? If you don't man up and confess, you're just gonna get more guys sniffing around. Louise is a catch. Tony Stark's not the first—and definitely not the last."
"Then… what do I do?"
"See Harley? See that Asian big sister next to her? See the one glaring at you like she's ready to dismember someone? I'm sitting here completely at ease with them. So trust me—I'll coach you through this. Just chill."
Loki watched Dante confidently pat Clark's shoulder and sighed.
These two were the definition of "one dares to teach, one dares to learn."
...
While Dante was whispering strategic romance advice to Superman, the Asgardians and Agents finally relaxed a little.
This man named Clark Kent really didn't seem hostile at all.
"Big Sister, is this man… Clark Kent… really that strong?"
Loki leaned in and asked Hela in a quiet voice.
He'd already been punched halfway across the sky by the guy with the "S" on his chest, but curiosity was a persistent thing.
"Very strong."
Hela frowned, keeping her answer short.
But after a beat, she added:
"If he goes all out… right now, I wouldn't stand a chance."
Loki's breath hitched.
No chance?
Even if Father came to Midgard, Big Sister probably wouldn't say she had no chance, right?
"What about on Asgardian soil?"
"If I stood on Asgard, awakened the army of the dead with the Eternal Flame, and wielded both Mjolnir and Gungnir… I might be able to hold him off for a while. But the ending's already written."
Asgardians have one thing going for them.
They might be stubborn—
But they never bluff.
Inside the Airbus, still hovering above the North Pole.
The lounge was pure chaos.
Everyone was red-faced and mid-scream in what had devolved into a full-blown shouting match.
Everyone except Hela and Clark.
Hela had long since gone from being impressed by Clark to being flat-out bored. She'd swiped Dante's phone and was now scrolling through IG reels with an expression of practiced indifference.
Clark wasn't angry, but he definitely looked flustered. He glanced at Hela like he was silently begging her for help.
"Oh, young God of Humanity, you must grow accustomed to these absurd quarrels," she said flatly.
"This... I really don't think I can."
Clark gave a helpless smile.
In front of him, Coulson had taken off his gentlemanly mask. His suit jacket was off, his tie was loose, shirt sleeves rolled, and watch stowed.
He slammed the table like he was about to throw hands with Dante.
"...If Clark Kent has feelings for Lois Lane, why can't he just confess?! What's he waiting for—another fake death and years of separation?! You want to live in regret forever?!"
Coulson's eyes were red as he shouted.
He couldn't help but think of Audrey—the cellist he'd loved before his "death." She had been his calm, intellectual White Moonlight throughout his entire agent career.
But after everything that happened… after dying… he could never show up in front of her again.
Most of the time, he could suppress that pain.
But today? Too many emotional spikes. Then Dante randomly started dissecting Clark's relationship drama and even turned to Coulson—him—for thoughts?
What did he think?
Coulson said he saw it with his own two eyes!
So yeah, Clark's emotional issues had somehow sparked a full-blown debate between Coulson and Dante.
Then Ada Wong got dragged in.
Then Loki.
Harley Quinn? No help at all—she was just there to stir the pot.
"Yeah Coulson's right!"
"Me too!"
"I, Harley Quinn, hereby officially support this ship!"
She threw in whatever sounded most chaotic.
"Sure, Lois Lane has plenty of admirers," Dante argued with a smirk. "But Clark is the most special one. Plus, she's a career-driven power woman. Let him take his time. Wait it out. And when it matters, just show up as Superman and drive the competition off!"
He grinned. "As the old saying goes—'All's fair in love and war.'"
"You're a damn emotional scammer! Liar! Feelings fraudster!"
Ada's eyes flashed. The elegant femme fatale twisted her waist and sent a spinning kick flying right at Dante.
"Hey! We're talking about someone else's love life! Don't use this as an excuse to unleash your inner Fire-Type, Ada!"
"Hmph. You short-lived mortals are all so shallow," Loki scoffed. "Love? Romance? What foolishness. We Asgardian gods are born to rule the cosmos."
"Shut up, thousand-year-old virgin!"
The entire group turned on Loki with synchronized disdain, and the room hit another crescendo of insanity.
Clark looked around, completely at a loss for who he was supposed to be listening to.
Then Hela finally looked up.
Her presence immediately suppressed the chaos like a sword had dropped into the room.
"Clark Kent. God of Humanity from beyond the Nine Realms," she said, her voice low and commanding. "Your power may be great, but your heart has not yet caught up."
She set down Dante's phone.
"I've lived thousands of years. Let me give you a piece of advice…"
"Please," Clark said, nodding solemnly. "I'm listening, Ms. Hela."
"Don't listen to others. Follow your own heart."
"Follow my heart… I understand now. Thank you, Ms. Hela!"
Clark's brow finally relaxed. He nodded to Hela with genuine gratitude, then—using his signature method—opened the hatch and exited the Airbus.
As usual, the perfect mix of brute force and courtesy.
"What did he even understand?" Hela muttered. "I don't even understand what I said."
She yawned and stood up. "Whatever. That guy flew off at high speed the second he stepped outside."
As soon as she said it, the whole room froze.
Coulson straightened his tie. Dante stretched and cracked his back.
Ada walked off to check if the drone storage units were still intact, and Loki poured himself a martini—something he'd only allow himself post-mission.
Only Harley Quinn looked genuinely confused.
"Eh? Why'd everyone stop yelling? Keep going! I was feeling that!"
"Insane," Dante muttered, rolling his eyes at her.
"Ohhh my Pudding~ That look you gave me just now—mmm, so intense! Excuse me, everyone, I need to go check if I packed spare shorts."
Harley tossed out a one-woman monologue no one asked for, then bolted toward her room on the ship.
"Not bad, Coulson," Dante said. "You really sold that scene. I almost thought you were actually fired up."
"...Ahahaha, yeah, yeah, totally. Acting. All acting!"
"…You weren't actually acting?" Dante squinted at him. "You still hung up on someone?"
"Of course not! I'm a cold, ruthless, seasoned FBI agent!"
Coulson's awkward smile said otherwise.
Dante sighed.
It was supposed to be a performance to throw off Clark Kent, but Coulson had made it personal.
Nick Fury really needed to start monitoring the mental health of his agents more closely.
"Dante, memory cores on all three drones are wiped," Ada reported.
"Yeah… Clark Kent's simple, but not stupid."
Dante waved it off. He wasn't interested in the Fortress of Solitude anymore.
He'd officially met the Big Guy now. So sooner or later, they'd cross paths again.
Maybe the Avengers and Justice League would merge someday...
Call it the Justice Avengers or something.
Just a thought. There wasn't a universe-level threat yet that could force all these lone-wolf types into cooperation.
"All right, Ada—set a course. We're really heading back this time."
With the coordinates locked in, the Airbus finally pulled out of hover mode.
This particular model was old, and hovering burned way too much fuel.
On the return trip, Dante had already decided—he was going to hit up Nick Fury for more funds.
As the Airbus rose higher into the sky and left the North Pole behind entirely, the system prompt finally chimed in.
---
[Mission: The Perfect Frozen Man – Complete]
[Mission-Related Characters: Coulson, Captain America, Loki, Hela, Superman]
[Acquired Ability: Kree Blood (Phil Coulson)]
[Acquired Ability: Super Soldier Serum (Captain America)]
[Acquired Ability: Astral Projection (Loki)]
[Acquired Ability: Necromancy (Hela)]
[Acquired Ability: Heat Vision (Superman)]
(To be continued.)
Chapter 45: Hello, Grant Ward
How to describe Dante's mood?
Comfortable.
Sure, he still didn't fully understand how the System chose its so-called "mission-related characters".
But hey, at least this time confirmed one thing:
Characters could show up again.
And best of all?
Clark Kent was still in the prize pool.
A guy like that would never drop some garbage-tier ability.
And looking at the results? Way beyond expectations.
First, Coulson.
As charming as the guy was, Dante hadn't expected much in terms of raw combat capability.
Yet the System dropped Kree blood.
A literal key to unlocking Inhuman abilities.
In other words, if Dante ever got his hands on a terrigen crystal? Boom—Inhuman unlocked.
Who knew what kind of power he'd get, but whatever it was, it was already light-years beyond Coulson's basic field skills. That was a full-on SSR drop.
Then came Captain America's Super Soldier Serum.
No need to explain. Just pure, no-frills, high-end physical enhancement.
Clean. Reliable. No downside.
Next up: Loki's Astral Projection and Hela's Necromancy.
The term "Astral Projection" sounded vague on paper, but once you got it translated to "your soul leaves your body but still punches people in the face"—well, that was very intuitive.
As for Hela's Necromancy? Naturally overpowered. Sure, it didn't exactly fit the FBI's official aesthetic, but Dante knew better than to care about PR.
He wouldn't use it in crowded urban zones, obviously—raising the dead kind of tended to cause more panic than a supervillain on a Tuesday.
And last but not least: Heat Vision.
Among Superman's Swiss-army-knife set of OP powers, it wasn't the flashiest.
But it was a staple.
It outclassed Cyclops' optic blasts by miles, and the energy modulation made it surprisingly versatile.
Need to cauterize a wound mid-fight? Done.
Laser-slice a tank in half? Also done.
And for Dante personally, it filled a huge gap: a dependable long-range attack, other than the occasional Green Lantern ring swipe.
In short?
Chef's kiss.
—
"So you're saying this guy—Superman—has some alien fortress in the shape of a pyramid in the North Pole?"
Fury's one eye widened as he stared Dante down.
"That's right. But don't even think about it," Dante warned. "Let me put it this way—there's no one on this Earth who can afford to piss that guy off. My advice? Forget this conversation ever happened. Delete the file in your brain. Don't do anything dumb and get us all nuked."
"…It can't be that bad. You've got the Goddess of Death on your side—"
Fury still wasn't fully convinced.
It was an alien fortress, after all. Who knows how many otherworldly black-tech toys were inside?
Forget raiding the whole thing—just getting one or two items could rocket Earth's science forward by a century.
"Fury," Dante said, cutting him off. His expression was stone-cold serious. "As long as you don't try to manipulate him—or anyone he cares about—he's the purest force for good we've ever seen. He saves people because he wants to. But if you ever make him give up on humanity…"
He didn't need to finish the sentence.
Injustice Superman was all the warning he needed.
"Fury, Agent Dante is right," Professor X added calmly from the side.
He didn't even need to read minds to know where Fury's head was at.
"I've seen what lies in people's hearts. Trust me—Superman is only dangerous if we make him dangerous."
"…Fine."
Fury rubbed his bald head and finally dropped the argument.
Dante knew he hadn't fully given up, but until an opportunity fell in his lap, he'd probably let it go.
"That's it for the mission report. I'm heading out."
"…What kind of mission report was that?! You just told me about Superman!"
"Huh? That's not the most important part?"
"Where the hell is Captain America?!"
"Med bay."
"Coulson?"
"Bathroom. Emo-ing with old photos of his ex."
"…Okay. You can go now."
Fury waved him off before this man stressed him into a second imported bottle of heart meds.
—
Dante didn't go straight home this time.
He dropped Hela off with Ada and Harley, letting the three women babysit each other.
Then, after dragging Coulson out of the thirty-first-floor bathroom with Loki, he made his way to the Coulson Team's airborne command post.
Technically, the Airbus belonged to him now—Fury had given it to him—but S.H.I.E.L.D. still had a whole fleet of similar airborne command platforms.
"Dante, you've seen everyone's files, so I won't introduce them one by one," Coulson said.
Dante scanned the room full of excited and composed faces, matching names to files with ease.
"H-hi, Agent Dante, you and the Star Team have basically become legends in the Bureau," said Fitz, clearly nervous.
"Fitz, not the time to stutter—Agent Dante," Simmons jumped in, eyes gleaming. "I heard you have incredibly advanced self-healing. Would it be possible to extract a sample of your tissue for research purposes?"
The Science Babies struck fast.
Dante smirked. These two were definitely indoor Agents to the core.
And Simmons? She had all the makings of a mad scientist in the making.
"Fitz, cool her down before she dissects him," Coulson muttered with a sigh.
They were great kids—brilliant—but very excitable.
"It's fine, Coulson," Dante chuckled. "But looks like not everyone's here. Where's Grant Ward?"
"Reporting, Agent Dante!"
Skye stepped up, trying to act cool and failing slightly.
"Agent Grant Ward is currently in the lounge. He's still debating whether he wants to join this team."
"Oh? That so? Guess I'll go say hello." Dante turned to Coulson. "Cap's been in the med bay long enough. He should be waking up soon. Might be good for your team to be there when he does. Guy's been on ice for almost a hundred years. Probably gonna need a moment."
With that, Dante waved and headed toward the lounge.
Halfway there, he glanced back over his shoulder at Skye.
"Next time you wanna sneak a peek, just do it openly. No need to lurk like a cartoon burglar."
He kept walking without waiting for her flustered response.
As he reached the lounge, he casually disabled the surveillance system along the way.
Time for a real conversation.
He stepped through the door.
"Hello, Grant Ward."
"As a HYDRA agent… you really don't feel even a little uncomfortable sitting here?"