Marvel: Shadow Monarch

The remote clearing was exactly what I needed—five kilometers from Murphy's Last Stop, hidden by a dense copse of trees, and far enough from the forest where the fight had taken place that any sounds wouldn't carry to unwanted ears.

I deposited both unconscious men on the grass with careful precision. Bucky Barnes lay unrestrained, his breathing steady and color returned to normal thanks to the healing potion. The Winter Soldier had earned enough trust through our brief interaction to warrant freedom of movement.

Spider-Man, however, was a different matter entirely.

I examined the web-shooters strapped to the unconscious hero's wrists with genuine curiosity. The mechanisms were more sophisticated than I'd expected—compact engineering marvels that somehow produced incredibly strong webbing from what appeared to be small cartridges.

I had Spider-Man thoroughly secured to the ground in an intricate web pattern that would make escape nearly impossible.

"This is actually pretty fun," I muttered, experimenting with different web configurations before restraining myself. There were more important matters to address.

The forest around us was quiet except for the rustle of leaves and distant bird calls.

I settled against a tree trunk, my enhanced perception automatically scanning our surroundings for any approaching threats. The isolation was perfect for what promised to be a very interesting conversation.

Finally, some answers.

Twenty minutes later, Bucky's eyes snapped open with the alertness of a trained soldier. His gaze immediately found me, and despite the peaceful setting, every muscle in his body tensed as his hand instinctively moved toward where his weapons should be.

"Where are we?" The question was sharp, professional—the voice of someone assessing potential threats.

I remained relaxed against my tree, arms crossed casually. "No need to be so tense. After all, I did save your life."

The simple statement seemed to cut through Bucky's combat readiness. His posture eased slightly as memory returned, and he glanced down at where the grievous wounds had been. His shirt was still torn and bloodstained, but underneath, the skin was unmarked and whole.

"What was it?" Bucky asked, touching the area where the gash had nearly killed him. "What did you give me?"

"You don't need to know that."

Bucky's eyes narrowed at my deflection, but he didn't press. Instead, his attention shifted to the webbed figure a few meters away. "Spider-Man?"

"Alive. Just knocked out." I followed his gaze to our restrained captive. "Seemed safer to keep him webbed, lest he tries to run away."

Bucky nodded, but then his expression shifted to something that might have been amusement. "Your name's Lucien, right?"

What the hell?

The casual knowledge hit me like ice water. My relaxed posture vanished as I straightened, every instinct screaming danger. How could this man possibly know my name? We'd never met, and I'd been careful to avoid—

"It's your turn to calm down," Bucky said with a slight smile, clearly enjoying the role reversal.

I forced myself to settle back, though my muscles remained coiled for action. The bastard was actually enjoying this. "Explain."

"Our mission involved two energy signatures SHIELD detected this week. One yesterday in that jungle where you saved me." Bucky's tone was conversational, but his eyes never left my face. "The other at a research facility. The research facility you escaped from."

The words hung in the air between us. I kept my expression carefully neutral, though internally I was recalculating everything about this encounter. SHIELD knew about the facility. They knew about me. I thought everything was destroyed during the fight, one of the sentinels did burst into the security room. But seems I was wrong.

How much do they actually know?

"You left quite a mess there," Bucky continued, and I could hear something that wasn't quite approval in his voice.

I scoffed, some of my tension releasing into contempt. "And what of it? They experimented on us, tried to kill us. They deserved everything they got." My voice hardened as the memories of those months flooded back. "I even regret letting some of them live, now that I think about it. They knew what they were getting involved in."

"They did deserve it," Bucky agreed quietly, and there was no judgment in his tone. "But kid, don't let killing get into your head."

There was something in his voice—not condescension, but genuine concern. The tone of someone who'd walked that dark path and knew where it led. Someone who understood the weight of necessary violence.

"I'm not stupid enough to be a mindless killer," I replied. "But I'll do anything when necessary."

"As long as you keep your head cool." Bucky nodded, seeming satisfied with my answer. "That's all anyone can ask in todays world."

The conversation lulled for a moment, both of us taking each other's measure. He was evaluating me, probably trying to determine if I was a threat or a potential asset. I was doing the same thing.

Finally, I decided to press for the information I actually needed.

"Since you know about that facility, I want details about who ordered those experiments. And why the hell did the Sentinel guards have Stark logos?"

"Stark was involved in making Sentinel bots a long time back, but not now. Those were just stolen units." Bucky's answer was matter-of-fact, like he was discussing the weather. "As for who owned the facility..." He paused, considering. "That's not information I have. But as payback for saving my life, I'll find that out for you."

Now that's interesting.

The Winter Soldier offering to investigate something for me? Either he was more grateful than he was letting on, or he had his own reasons for wanting to know who was running black site mutant experiments.

"Worth saving you, then."

"Don't get too sentimental on me, kid." But he was almost smiling.

I leaned forward, my expression growing serious. "Your friend Spider-Man—he didn't betray you or anything. He's been taken over by someone else. Someone named Otto Octavius."

The change in Bucky was immediate and dramatic.

His casual demeanor vanished, replaced by the sharp focus of an intelligence operative who'd just heard something that changed everything. "How do you know that?"

"It's one of my powers." I made my tone clear that the subject wasn't open for discussion. Some secrets needed to stay secret.

Bucky studied me for a long moment, clearly wanting to press but recognizing a stone wall when he saw one. Finally, he nodded. "Can you help him?"

I shook my head grimly. "I can't. From what I can tell, this Otto Octavius transplanted his consciousness into Spider-Man's body somehow. Maybe the real Spider-Man is still in there, maybe he's trapped in Otto's body. But it's all guesswork."

"Maybe it's the latter," Bucky said slowly, his mind clearly working through possibilities I couldn't see. "SHIELD sent the word that Otto Octavius requested to meet Spider-Man before his death." His voice dropped to a mutter. "Maybe it was him after all."

So there might be hope for Spider-Man.

That was something, at least. Peter Parker was one of the genuinely good people in this universe, and the thought of him being permanently erased by some megalomaniac scientist left a bad taste in my mouth.

For the next several minutes, I pressed Bucky for details about the current state of mutant affairs, and the political landscape following M-Day. He answered what he could, deflected what he couldn't, and gradually painted a picture of a world still reeling from recent changes.

The situation was both worse and better than I thought.

Most of the Avengers were currently off the planet, fighting a force in the space, but what that force was, Bucky refused to answer.

The remaining mutants were living in the Xavier Mansion, but just like in the comics, they were under Sentinel surveillance.

There were also rumors of other facilities like the one I'd escaped from, though SHIELD apparently hadn't been able to confirm their existence, as the mutants who were captured were captured during the chaos that was happening during the M-Day.

So, we weren't the only ones huh?

The good part was that the cities weren't constantly being scanned for mutants. 

As of now, the world did not feel any threat from the mutants, so technically me and Anna could go and explore any of the regions.

Finally, Bucky stood and moved toward the still-unconscious Spider-Man. "I need to get him back to SHIELD. See if our science team can figure out what Otto did and maybe reverse it."

"Think they can help him?"

"He's a good kid," Bucky said, carefully lifting the webbed figure. There was genuine fondness in his voice. "If there's a way to bring him back, we'll find it."

I watched as Bucky activated some kind of communicator, calling for extraction.

"You did good today, kid," Bucky said, "But be careful. The world's getting more dangerous, and power like yours draws attention."

"I can handle attention."

"Just remember what I said about keeping your head cool."

Bucky then looked serious for a second as he said, "I meant what I said about finding information on that facility. How do I contact you?"

I considered for a moment. Giving SHIELD a way to reach me felt like opening a door I might not be able to close. But the potential benefits outweighed the risks. 

"For the next three days, exactly at seven in the morning I will be there for two minutes, be there if you find anything, else, just be there on the third day to discuss a new way of communication."

"Same place, huh?" Bucky repeated, and I could see him committing it to memory. "Got it."

Just then, the distinctive sound of a Quinjet's engines could be heard approaching through the sky.

SHIELD's response time is impressive. 

I moved away from the line of sight and observed it from a distance, Bucky also did not say anything just gave me one last nod, before he moved in the direction of Quinjet.

The Quinjet touched down in the clearing with military precision, its ramp lowering to reveal two SHIELD agents in tactical gear. They moved with professional efficiency, securing Spider-Man and preparing for immediate departure.

The Quinjet lifted off moments later, carrying both SHIELD agents and the two heroes.

I remained in the clearing long after the aircraft had disappeared, processing everything I'd learned.

For all my growing power, some problems couldn't be solved with enhanced stats and sharp daggers. Some required allies, resources, and knowledge I didn't yet possess.

But soon everything would change. All I needed was to level up and get the Shadow Monarch and I would have an army at my beck and call. 

At that time I would not have to worry about any of that.

In the original the job change quest came after a certain level threshold, what that was not something I remembered.

The walk back to Murphy's Last Stop gave me time to think, to plan, and to prepare for whatever came next.

Anna would want to know where I'd been. But it

But for the first time since arriving in this world, I felt like I was starting to understand the rules of the game.

Time to start playing it properly.

On The Quinjet

The Quinjet's engines hummed steadily as we climbed to cruising altitude, but Bucky Barnes barely noticed. His attention was focused on the webbed figure secured in the aircraft's medical bay and the conversation that had just ended in that forest clearing.

Lucien Reynolds. The name matched the file SHIELD had compiled from the research facility's scattered records, but the kid in person was nothing like what those clinical reports had suggested.

The reports had described Subject 247 as a low-level mutant with enhanced physical capabilities—marginally stronger and faster than baseline human, but nothing particularly noteworthy.

'But if those were true, then he would not have been able to leave that secured facility on his own. Moreover, fighting with Spider-Man and defeating him was not a weakling could do.

Those reports were either completely wrong or deliberately falsified.

Bucky had been in enough fights to recognize real power when he saw it, and what he'd witnessed today was far beyond "marginally enhanced." The way Lucien had dismantled Spider-Man—even a compromised Spider-Man—had been effortless. Casual. Like an adult dealing with an unruly child.

And that liquid he was fed...

Bucky touched his side where the wound had been, still amazed by the complete restoration.

Whatever that kid had given him wasn't any kind of conventional medicine. It was something else entirely, something that suggested capabilities far beyond what any government facility should have been able to study or contain.

So how did he end up in that prison in the first place?

The timeline didn't add up. According to SHIELD's investigation, the facility had been operating for over a seven months before the breakout. If Lucien had possessed this level of power the entire time, why hadn't he escaped sooner? What had changed?

Agent Martinez's voice crackled through the comm system, interrupting his thoughts. "ETA to base is twenty minutes. Medical team is standing by for the Spider-Man situation."

"Copy that," Bucky replied, then switched to a private channel. "Martinez, I need you to run a deep background check on someone. Lucien Reynolds, approximately seventeen or eighteen years old."

"The subject from the facility breakout?"

"The same. But I want everything—not just the official files. Dig into hospital records, school transcripts, anything that might explain how a kid with that level of power ended up in a black site prison."

There was a pause. "Sir, his file is already pretty comprehensive—"

"His file is bullshit, Martinez. Either someone was lying about his capabilities, or something fundamental changed about him recently. I want to know which."

Bucky glanced back at the unconscious Spider-Man, still wrapped in his own webbing.

Peter Parker was one of the most capable heroes he'd ever worked with, enhanced by radioactive spider DNA and possessing reflexes that bordered on precognitive. The fact that Lucien had handled him like he was an amateur was deeply concerning.

Not concerning because the kid was dangerous—though he definitely was—but concerning because it suggested there were forces at play that SHIELD didn't understand.

And in his experience, unknown variables in the superhero community had a tendency to spiral out of control very quickly.

"I'm not stupid enough to be a mindless killer, but I'll do anything when necessary."

The kid's words echoed in Bucky's mind.

There had been no bravado in that statement, no teenage posturing. Just cold, practical assessment delivered with the kind of matter-of-fact certainty that came from experience.

Most teens talked about doing whatever was necessary. Very few actually meant it.

Lucien Reynolds meant it.

The question was whether that made him an asset or a threat. Probably both, depending on circumstances. But either way, SHIELD needed to know exactly what they were dealing with.

"Martinez, add another priority. I want to know about any energy signatures matching the one we detected at the facility and the jungle, report to me as soon as you find something."

And there's still the matter of that facility.

Bucky had promised to investigate who'd been running the illegal research operation, and he intended to keep that promise.

Not just because he owed the kid a favor, but because anyone running black site experiments on mutant children was exactly the kind of threat SHIELD existed to stop.

The fact that they'd been using stolen Stark Industries Sentinel technology only made it worse.

Someone with serious resources and connections had been operating under SHIELD's nose for so long, and that suggested either a massive intelligence failure or active interference from someone with access to classified information.

Neither possibility was particularly comforting.

The Quinjet began its descent toward the SHIELD base, and Bucky felt the familiar weight of another complicated situation settling on his shoulders.

Just another Tuesday in the life of a SHIELD agent.

.....

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