Marvel's Alien Force

Scott watched the being before him—still obscured by the crystalline dome—as he finally brought out the last survivor. Without pause, the figure directed the final fragments of debris into the sky, lifting them straight from the river itself.

Now, the river appeared calm—eerily so. The chaos was gone, and only the scars on the shoreline, left by the Kaiju's massive steps, remained. 

Floating above the river was a fully formed island of debris, defying gravity, a surreal masterpiece that drew the attention of not only Scott and Jean but everyone standing along the shore—and everyone watching across the world.

They were all waiting.

Waiting to see what he would do next.

And Grey Matter didn't keep them waiting for long.

After handing over the final survivor—yet another surprise in a long string of them—he showed no signs of emotional reaction. 

As Grey Matter, he processed everything through logic. Even the act of finding survivors trapped underwater no longer surprised him. With his enhanced telekinetic awareness, he already understood how and why they were still alive down there.

He turned his attention to the woman he had just saved—the mother of the little girl. Funny, he hadn't even asked their names yet. 

In a voice flat but calm, he finally asked, "What's your name?"

The little girl, clinging to her mother's side now that she had finally reached safety, looked up at him in awe. Being addressed by her hero, especially after all that had happened, lit her face with joy despite the tears still clinging to her lashes.

"It's Lily… umm…"

Hearing her hesitation, Grey Matter immediately understood the source of her confusion. His voice softened just slightly.

"My name is Mark Cain. You can call me Big Brother if you want."

A bright smile spread across Lily's face. "Okay, Big Brother Mark!"

Grey Matter—Mark—nodded once, then turned his gaze skyward, focusing on the floating masterpiece of debris he had created. This was only the beginning. He intended to do more—something different, something greater.

He looked toward Lily's mother, who was now safely inside the dome. Though her body was weak and exhausted, he ensured she remained suspended gently in the air. 

Lying on the hard crystal floor wouldn't be comfortable in her condition, so Mark used his telekinesis to keep her aloft—weightless and at ease. Her will to survive still burned strong, and he could feel her body doing everything it could to hold on.

He had a way to save her—but to do it, he needed to change forms. And once he left Grey Matter, he would no longer have the enhanced mental capacity required to keep the floating debris island suspended. Which meant only one thing:

It was time to do some real labor—hands-on engineering.

With a deep breath, his small frame extended both arms forward. But this time, the motion was different. He wasn't just lifting or guiding debris. No—he was gripping the floating rectangular mass like an invisible box, hands placed on either side. Then, slowly but powerfully, he began to crush it.

To the stunned onlookers, it looked as if the entire floating island suddenly came alive—shifting, compressing inward, collapsing like cardboard under immense pressure. 

It was as if unseen hands were kneading it, over and over again. The once-solid, precise structure began to deform, the rectangular shape collapsing in their minds just as it did in the air.

It was turning into something else entirely.

The mass of iron, concrete, cement, wires, and broken metal beams—once so rigid and sharp—was now transforming. Under the pressure of his telekinesis, it bent and folded like dough in the hands of a master baker. Twisting, stretching, flattening—it looked like wet clay being molded with the precision of both an artist and a machine.

And this... this was only the beginning.

From raw destruction came creation.

And Mark Cain was just getting started.

"What the fuck...?" Scott muttered, stunned beyond belief.

Jean didn't answer. She couldn't. Her eyes, wide with disbelief, were glued to the scene unfolding in the sky—and she wasn't alone. 

Every viewer across the world—from the Avengers and X-Men to the Brotherhood, government officials, underground mutant groups, and even ordinary civilians—were all frozen in collective shock.

No one knew what they were witnessing.

In under five minutes, the floating mass of debris began to shift again—its shape tightening, refining, evolving. The contours were unmistakable now: a humanoid form. But it wasn't human.

It wasn't even alive.

It was a machine.

Grey Matter's tiny arms swept through the air, directing pieces like a maestro conducting a silent symphony. From left to right, his gestures blurred with precision too fast for most eyes to follow—except for one.

Lily.

Her small hands clenched as she strained to keep up, eyes darting frantically to track his every movement. At first, the forming figure reminded her of the crystal-skinned Diamondhead from before—but as the structure continued to shift, twist, and refine under Grey Matter's guidance, she realized it was becoming something else.

Something... robotic.

It wasn't just a statue or a shell. This was purposeful. Designed. Alive in its own way.

And whatever it was, it was coming to life before the entire world's eyes.

Tony stared, completely speechless. 

"…Is he building a robot?" he muttered.

It sounded absurd even as he said it, but there it was—unfolding in the sky like an artist sculpting divine architecture. This wasn't just scrap being reassembled; it was destruction reborn into design. 

The Golden Gate Bridge, once a marvel of human engineering, had been reduced to debris… and now that debris was being transformed into something that defied logic.

A masterpiece born from a masterpiece.

And Tony couldn't look away.

Sure, his Iron Man suits were sleek—cutting-edge, revolutionary, beautiful even. But this… this towering construct, rising above 250 feet, was something else entirely. Something primal. Something majestic.

If he'd had something like that during the Kaiju attack, maybe he wouldn't have been tossed around like a tin can.

"But that's impossible to build," Tony muttered, then chuckled under his breath, as if the thought itself was a joke. Yet someone was building it. And not just anyone—Grey Matter. Or more precisely… Mark.

It wasn't some random creation. It was personal. A dream made metal.

The silhouette. The shoulders. The chest plate. The iconic head.

Straight out of Pacific Rim, raw and powerful in all its mechanical glory.

The Jaeger. The Kaiju-killer. 

Grey Matter raised one small hand, and in a quiet voice that somehow carried through the roaring wind, he said:

"Gipsy Danger."

Above the mech's towering head, a glowing nameplate materialized in the air, casting a shadow across the sky as it caught the sun's light. Then, with a graceful motion, Grey Matter lowered his hand—and the colossal robot descended.

The mech fell slowly, almost reverently, into the waters of the strait just beyond the ruins of the bridge. It didn't splash or send tidal waves crashing inland. Instead, Grey Matter controlled the descent so precisely that the displaced water was directed outward, pushed toward the open sea in perfect equilibrium.

The river accepted the Jaeger like it had been waiting for it.

And as the metal colossus touched the riverbed, Grey Matter didn't stop. He pushed it deeper, anchoring it to the rocky floor with invisible threads of telekinesis. Metal fused with stone. Weight met current.

And finally, Gipsy Danger stood—tall, proud, and immovable.

A silent guardian, reborn from the bones of a fallen bridge.

Around the world, a hush fell over billions of souls.

And somewhere amidst them—on a fractured shoreline, beneath a protective crystal dome—a little girl looked up at the metal titan and whispered, barely audible:

"Big Brother Mark… thank you."

It wasn't loud. It wasn't meant to be.

But Mark heard it.

And for the first time since he arrived… Grey Matter smiled.

***

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