"Although a Level One reality bender isn't supposed to warrant the deployment of elite troops like us," Jack said with a dramatic flair, tapping the side of his brand-new tactical eyepiece, "I gotta admit…"
Knock, knock.
Jack knocked on his visor excitedly, grinning wide. "This kind of equipment? Now this is what I call elite gear—worthy of the best of the best!"
His face filled the screen, clearly thrilled by the tech. The broadcast audience could now see James and the rest of his squad inside a black armored SUV. They were all dressed in newly upgraded battle suits—sleek, reinforced, and laced with integrated tech.
Jack continued his enthusiastic explanation. "ZC-9 Individual Integrated Reconnaissance System," he said proudly, tapping the interface on his visor.
He rattled off the functions like a professional tech rep. "This beauty includes a real-time data link to monitor environmental radiation levels, Hume index fluctuations, EVE particle activity, and more. It can even collect field samples and perform basic scans without us needing to lift a finger."
The audience in the live feed watched, fascinated, while Jack admired the advanced sniper rifle resting in James' arms. The sleek weapon shimmered with a faint electric blue glow, humming with latent power.
"But nothing compares to that," Jack said, pointing. "That rifle's the real prize. I'd trade my goggles for it any day."
Someone in the squad chuckled and reminded him, "You better show some respect. That's Boss James now, remember?"
Jack grimaced. "Damn it… Still not used to calling anyone 'Boss'."
James ignored the banter. He focused instead on the mission briefing glowing across his screen. His expression shifted slightly as he scrolled through the data. A frown crept across his face.
"It's been twelve hours," he muttered, "since the last report was sent from the incident site…"
Crunch.
The vehicle screeched to a halt. They had arrived.
The car door slammed open, and the group stepped out into a small, isolated town nestled deep in the valley. Night had already fallen. The town was eerily quiet. Not a single light glowed in the windows.
Most disturbingly of all—there wasn't a soul in sight.
"What the hell… do people in this backwater go to bed at 6 p.m.?" Jack grumbled, hopping out of the vehicle and scanning the area with narrowed eyes.
He activated the meme-detection interface on his battle suit and turned toward the center of the town, where an old church loomed in the distance.
"For a freshly emerged Stage Two reality bender, this is one hell of a masquerade," he said, shaking his head. "A church, huh? Not subtle—but still, it won't hide from the Foundation."
He adjusted his visor and spoke again. "Boss, the Hume reading from that church is only 75 out of 130. Definitely matches the profile of a Level One. That's what our intel says."
He rubbed his hands together, eager. "Let's just go in and clean this mess up."
"No," James said firmly, cutting him off. He turned toward the rest of the team, voice calm but commanding. "Start from the first house on the edge of town. We're doing a full sweep—building by building."
S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters – Surveillance Room
"A very sensible choice," Nick Fury said, nodding slightly as he watched the footage from the tactical team's body cams.
Natasha Romanoff smirked, arms crossed. "Sometimes caution only wastes time. If it's just a Level One reality bender, James might be overthinking."
Fury gave her a look. "Level One?" he repeated. "Who said it was Level One? Keep in mind, we haven't seen a single civilian since the team arrived."
Natasha raised an eyebrow, suddenly curious. "You think… the target's not Level One?"
Nick Fury's face darkened. "No contact for twelve hours. An entire town silent. It might be worse. Much worse."
Back in the field, Jack was still grumbling as they swept through house after house. So far, they had checked over thirty buildings—every single one empty. No people. No signs of life. No pets. Not even the hum of a refrigerator.
"Okay, this is officially creeping me out," Jack muttered. "What kind of town just vanishes? No lights. No power. No people. What—are they all at some midnight mass?"
That last comment made James freeze.
His gaze shot toward the church again. At the center of the town, its tall steeple loomed under the moonlight. Unlike the rest of the town, the church was brightly lit from within.
The team exchanged glances.
In the pitch-black town, the illuminated church glowed like a lighthouse in an empty sea.
But there was nothing sacred about what was happening inside.
The light revealed something deeply disturbing.
"Take off your clothes."
"Okay."
"Oh, you're so hot… Oh my god, you're so beautiful…"
"Don't be shy, babies… Come to me."
Inside the church, a group of half-naked women surrounded a single figure like stars encircling a sun.
He wasn't a man—at least not yet. He was a teenage boy, blond-haired and blue-eyed, around six feet tall, lounging on the altar like he owned it.
The Marvel universe audience watching the livestream went nuts.
"Wait… this is real?!"
"WHAT THE HELL! MY KID IS WATCHING THIS!"
"This is not a Level One anything! That's gotta be a high-tier reality bender! This is twisted! So twisted!"
"I'm so jealous right now, it physically hurts…"
In the church, the boy grinned at his admirers. His eyes sparkled like sapphires, but there was something wrong in them. Something hollow.
On-screen, the women giggled, moaned, and obeyed every word the boy said, like puppets dancing on invisible strings.
S.H.I.E.L.D.
Even the hardened agents were caught off-guard. Natasha Romanoff squinted at the scene, a bit stunned.
"Everyone in that town's got such… interesting nightlife. Doing this kind of stuff in a church? Maybe it adds some taboo flavor to the mix."
Nick Fury didn't answer. His brow was furrowed as he leaned closer to the screen.
"Don't you notice something?" he asked sharply. "Something they all have in common?"
Natasha blinked. "No clothes?"
"You idiot. Look closer."
Suddenly, realization struck. The women weren't just undressed. Their eyes were glassy. Their movements mechanical. Their smiles fake.
They were like… zombies.
"Controlled," Fury muttered. "Totally subjugated."
Natasha's stomach twisted. "A reality bender with mental override capabilities?"
"That's no Level One," Fury growled.
Back in the church, things took a turn.
The heavy oak doors creaked open. A middle-aged man stormed inside, rage burning in his eyes.
His face contorted as he saw his wife among the boy's followers, scantily clad and giggling mindlessly.
"SOPHIA!" he roared, fists clenched. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER, YOU DEVIL?!"
For the first time, the smug smile on the boy's face cracked.
Fear.
Then rage.
"Untouchable…" he hissed. "How dare you speak to me like that?"
He raised his right hand and closed his fist.
The man let out a strangled scream as his limbs bent at impossible angles. His face caved in, distorted like clay under a toddler's fist.
Crack. Squish. Snap.
A second later, all that remained of the man was a mass of bloody, shapeless meat.
The women didn't even blink.
The boy stared at the pile of flesh. His fear vanished. In its place: power-drunk madness.
"Hahahaha! No one can disobey me!" he howled, laughing like a man possessed.
He turned toward his mindless harem. His voice dropped into a whisper.
"I am your god."
His eyes swept across the church, glowing with euphoria and lunacy.
The livestream chat exploded in a storm of horror and disbelief.
James stood outside the church now, peering through the scope of his sniper rifle.
His jaw clenched as he saw the carnage unfold.
"Jack," he said quietly, "update the Hume reading."
Jack swallowed and checked his visor.
"…It's fluctuating. Spiking above 200."
James nodded.
"This isn't a Level One," he said.
"It's a goddamn Class Red anomaly."
And they had just walked into its nest.
___________________________________
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