Marvel: Death Knight

Madame Viper's sudden attack caught Garus off guard. However, it didn't affect him much—Azeroth Tech's arms sales controlled half of the American market, and without concrete evidence, there was little anyone could do to challenge him.

What puzzled Garus was her motive. He had deliberately avoided dealing with the other Hydra members, yet here they were, provoking him again. Did they think he should uproot Hydra entirely?

Dismantling Hydra wasn't particularly challenging for him. Back when he killed Baron Zemo, he resurrected the baron as a Death Knight loyal only to him, which gave him partial control over the organization. However, he currently had only four Death Knights under his command and wasn't inclined to waste such valuable resources on those he deemed insignificant.

Crash!

While Garus was at home, a commotion erupted outside. Suddenly, a stone smashed through a second-floor window, shattering glass across the floor.

"Hand over the mutant! Turn in the murderer!"

Initially, Garus had no intention of addressing the crowd outside. But now, with Frostmourne in hand, he strode downstairs, rage boiling within. These fools were testing his patience.

Since becoming a Death Knight, Garus had grown indifferent to life and death. Now, he decided it was time to kill a few people and make it clear that he wasn't to be trifled with. As for the consequences? He never gave a damn about them.

When he emerged from the villa, the deathly aura emanating from him immediately silenced the once-rowdy crowd. They froze, their confidence shaken.

After a brief pause, a man in the crowd, a tall Black man, picked up a rock and hurled it at Garus, shouting, "Mutant freak! Get out of America! Turn in the murderer!"

Garus sidestepped the rock easily, only for a barrage of objects to follow.

"You idiots… must be tired of living!" Garus's fury surged. Were these people truly so brainless as to provoke someone like him?

Deathly energy coalesced into black chains, snaking toward the shouting crowd. The chains wrapped around their necks, lifting them into the air and choking them. The panicked crowd began to scatter, but a few brave—or foolish—souls pulled out guns and opened fire.

The bullets struck Garus but ricocheted off, clattering harmlessly to the ground like raindrops on steel.

Using the same dark energy, Garus subdued the gunmen. Before long, a line of people dangled in midair outside his villa, gasping for air. The macabre sight was almost theatrical.

"Hey, man! Let them go!"

A familiar voice rang out as Spider-Man swung down from the rooftops, landing near the struggling captives. Seeing their faces turning pale and their breaths growing faint, Peter Parker pleaded urgently, "Mr. Garus, let them go before it's too late!"

Garus shot him a cold glance. "Parker, you're still a high school kid. You shouldn't get involved in this. Don't you have classes to attend? Besides, it looks like they don't welcome you either."

"Sir!" Parker's voice cracked with panic as he watched the captives' eyes roll back. "They're about to die!"

When Garus showed no signs of relenting, Spider-Man fired his webbing to pull the hanging individuals to the ground. But despite his efforts, he couldn't undo the chains of death that bound them.

Garus wasn't particularly interested in arguing with Parker. He was waiting—for Fury to show up. An incident like this couldn't escape S.H.I.E.L.D.'s attention for long.

And indeed, within minutes, a S.H.I.E.L.D.-issued car arrived.

By the time Nick Fury stepped out, most of the captives were unconscious. Fury surveyed the scene—the limp bodies sprawled on the ground, Spider-Man's helpless expression, and Garus standing unbothered amidst the chaos. His dark complexion somehow looked even darker with frustration.

"Mr. Garus," Fury said sternly, "stand down. I'll handle this."

As the black chains dissipated from their necks, Fury immediately called for backup. "Coulson, send a transport team to Hell's Kitchen immediately. We need medical evac for multiple individuals."

He frowned, concerned that the prolonged oxygen deprivation might cause irreversible brain damage. Any fatalities would only complicate matters further.

"Fury, how do you plan to deal with this?" Garus asked, his voice sharp.

"You were too impulsive," Fury replied, irritated. He blamed the Security Council for delaying him—they clearly didn't grasp the urgency of the situation.

"I won't tolerate provocation," Garus retorted coldly. "So what's your move? Declare war on me, or resolve this mess on my behalf?"

Fury fought to maintain his composure. The moment he saw the video of Garus wiping out Stryker's forces, he knew this situation was volatile. Under normal circumstances, he would've already ordered Garus's capture. But Garus's mysterious powers, his influence over Azeroth Tech, and his connection to the Mutant Academy made him an unpredictable—and dangerous—wild card.

Fury took a deep breath. "I'm here to notify you of a Congressional hearing. It's about your academy and your recent actions."

"Who's behind this?" Garus demanded. "And what's their agenda?"

"Congress requested it unanimously," Fury explained. "The Security Council members will also attend. They're afraid of you and your growing influence. I strongly suggest you participate and resolve this peacefully. A direct confrontation isn't in anyone's best interest."

Garus paused, considering his options. "Fine. I'll go. Let's see what they're planning."

As the S.H.I.E.L.D. transport aircraft descended, Agent Phil Coulson stepped out and began coordinating his team of agents to load the unconscious bodies onto the aircraft.

Nick Fury turned to Spider-Man and said, "I'll need you to join us at the hearing tomorrow."

"Uh, me?" Peter Parker blinked, caught off guard.

Elsewhere, Madame Viper watched the online uproar she had orchestrated with a smug expression. "Dr. Zola, have you pinpointed the location of the mutant seer?"

Dr. Arnim Zola, clearly annoyed by the relentless demands of the past few days, retorted, "I've found nothing. Are you sure this person doesn't live deep in some remote jungle?"

Madame Viper pondered for a moment before responding, "It seems Garus has taken him to the Mutant Academy. But don't worry—I have a plan to make him reveal the academy's location."

Rising from her seat, she added, "There's a show about to start. I'll take my leave for now. If I need help, I'll be back."

Zola waved her off impatiently. "Fine, go. And don't come back unless it's absolutely necessary."

At Tony Stark's home on the Bleak Coast, his AI assistant J.A.R.V.I.S. interrupted. "Sir, Director Fury has sent you a video invitation."

"Put it on," Tony said, setting down his magazine. He was in high spirits, having recently solved his palladium poisoning problem, and his attitude toward Fury had softened considerably.

The screen lit up with Fury's stern expression. "Mr. Stark, there's a congressional hearing tomorrow at the Capitol. Your attendance is required."

"Hmm? Whose hearing is this?" Tony asked, having spent the past few days holed up at home, oblivious to the outside world. "Those senators love these dog-and-pony shows. Who's their target this time?"

"Take a look online, and you'll understand," Fury replied. "There'll be questions for you to answer as well."

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