SWNOVELXO Chapter 4: Fuck Earth
"Hmm… so where should my base be?" Akihiro muttered, leaning back in the chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin. His mind was already racing ahead, plotting out the kind of future only someone like him could envision.
He knew he'd need his own space sooner or later. A proper base of operations where he could develop and test his many… unconventional projects. Somewhere secure, secluded, and spacious enough that he wouldn't be limited by annoying things like zoning laws or nosy neighbors.
"Should I just open a company and have a manor with a secret underground lab? My own Batcave?" He grinned at the idea, amused by how classic it sounded. But then he shook his head, dismissing it. As cool as that was, it didn't quite cut it for him. Too basic. Too done. Still, he'd probably have a Batcave-type base at some point. Just because it was cool.
"What about an island?" Like Syndrome's hideout from The Incredibles. Now that was tempting. All the space in the world, no nosy humans, no restrictions on scale. He could build entire mecha systems, test energy weapons, train freely, launch rockets if he wanted.
Then, his thoughts drifted even further. "Or a country. Like Doom. Or Wakanda. Or both." A self-sufficient, hyper-advanced nation-state. The thought stirred something in him. Doom wasn't just smart. He ruled. T'Challa too. They weren't just geniuses. They were kings, shaping the world itself.
But that made Akihiro frown. Being a king came with baggage. Politics. Diplomacy. Public relations. The constant weight of thousands, even millions of lives depending on you.
"Not really my style," he muttered.
Even so, he couldn't help thinking...
"If I ever do become a king... it should be a king of mutants."
That thought stuck longer than the rest. Not just because it was cool, but because it made sense. A sanctuary for mutants. A nation built by them, for them.
But it wouldn't be easy. Not by a long shot. He didn't even have a location to relocate them to yet. Plus, the political backlash would be intense, especially from the U.S. The world didn't take kindly to power it couldn't control.
"Still, if I do it, it won't be some fragile little island like Genosha." He leaned forward, eyes narrowing with determination. "It'll be something stronger. Something permanent."
He wasn't exactly interested in mutants. Yeah, they suffered, but so did the rest of the world. Discrimination, brainwashing, abduction, experimentation… that wasn't exclusive to mutants. Normal people faced all that too. It was universal.
So no, he didn't want to be some messiah for them. But here's the problem—he didn't have a choice.
He was a mutant.
And sooner or later, the Sentinels would be built. Sooner or later, they'd come for him. And if he hadn't pulled a template like Superman or Saitama by then, he'd be screwed.
The idea of something like Ultron fused with Sentinels? Just imagining it gave him chills. Rogue AI plus adaptive killer robots. That was a nightmare, even for someone like him.
Sure, maybe they couldn't kill him outright. But what if they kept doing it over and over? Trapped him in a time loop of pain. Tossed him into lava, dissolved him in acid, locked him in a containment cell that even he couldn't break?
No. If he didn't want to be on the receiving end of that hell, he had only one option.
Take the initiative.
Unless he could guarantee that he was strong enough to survive anything—and he knew he wasn't, not yet—he had to act.
And not just because of the Sentinels.
There were countless threats to his life. Hell. Heaven. Alien invasions. Cosmic entities treating reality like their playground. Dimensional gods on conquest tours. Even some random multiversal variant who just wants to wipe out every universe for fun. The list never ends. Each threat more dangerous than the last.
He was going to face all of it.
Some of those problems? He could probably handle.
Others? No chance. Not alone, at least.
That meant he was going to need people. Allies. Operatives. Maybe even followers. People who would work with him, and sometimes for him, depending on the situation.
Because one thing was clear:
He wouldn't survive what's coming by himself.
"Wish I could just be an Inhuman on the moon," he muttered.
Then he paused.
"The moon... Earth... planets..."
A slow grin crept onto his face. "Hah. I'm such a bloody idiot."
Why the hell was he planning to stay stuck on this planet?
There were countless others out there.
Sure, the problems would follow him—Sentinels, alien threats, dimensional weirdness—but at least he wouldn't have to worry about being found so easily if he set up shop on some empty, unclaimed world.
In fact, wasn't that a better idea altogether?
Why build a mutant nation here, fighting over scraps and politics, when he could have a whole damn planet?
Something bigger. Better. With actual potential.
The risks were the same either way, so why not dream bigger?
The image of his own planet, his own world rising from barren dust to something legendary, made him smile—smug and satisfied.
Others would be recognised by their homeland.
He'd be recognised by his planet.
The thought alone felt wild, and yet, strangely right.
He briefly imagined inviting Reed, Tony, and even Doom to his future kingdom. The possibilities made him grin.
Just picturing their reactions was enough to make him chuckle.
He nodded to himself, decision solidifying.
"Yes. It's decided. I'll have my own planet."
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