Marvelous Meditations

The air inside the safehouse was heavy with the lingering scent of gun oil and sweat. The dim lighting cast sharp shadows across the concrete walls, while the soft hum of an old refrigerator provided the only background noise.

Nathan sat on the edge of a steel table, absently wiping down his sidearm.

Across from him, Steve Rogers leaned against a crate, arms crossed, while Natasha Romanoff perched effortlessly on the arm of a worn-out couch, her sharp gaze flicking between the two men.

"So," Steve said, breaking the silence with a smirk. "What'd you think of the surprise?" He tilted his head toward Natasha.

Nathan grunted, setting down his gun. "Can't complain about her efficiency," he admitted. "But I still don't like surprises—especially ones like her."

Natasha arched a brow. "Ones like me?"

Nathan gestured vaguely. "The sneaky, backstabbing kind."

Her expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—amusement, irritation, maybe both. "You don't seem to mind Cap's company," she pointed out. "Do you have something against me?"

Nathan scoffed, shaking his head. "Cap is Cap. People don't call him a boy scout for no reason." He trailed off, his eyes settling on her. "As for you… you're more like me. And I wouldn't trust me."

Natasha opened her mouth to reply, but something stopped her. Maybe it was the way he said it—not as an insult, but as a cold, hard fact. In the end, she simply exhaled through her nose and looked away.

Before anyone could say anything else, the television flickered, the low murmur of some late-night show cutting out. The screen shifted to a serious-looking news anchor.

"We interrupt this broadcast to bring breaking news," the man said, voice carefully measured but strained. "Reports are coming in that Ali Al Salem Air Base in Kuwait has been bombed. The attack has caused heavy casualties. The exact number remains unconfirmed, but sources indicate it could be in the dozens. Officials are already investigating the incident and searching for those responsible."

The room fell silent.

Nathan exhaled through his nose, his jaw tightening slightly as he muttered, "It's that time already?"

Steve's eyes snapped to him. "You know something?" His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it now, something firm, expectant.

Nathan leaned back slightly, drumming his fingers against the table. "Yeah. I do, and it's pretty big..."

Steve straightened. "Then talk."

Nathan smirked. "Oh, no, no. You still owe me, Cap. You want more intel? You're gonna have to pay up first."

Steve's expression darkened slightly, but he didn't argue. Natasha, meanwhile, tilted her head, studying Nathan like she was trying to decide whether to be intrigued or irritated.

"Fine," Steve finally said. "Then let's talk about debt."

Nathan didn't hesitate. His voice was flat, almost indifferent. "Doctor Samuel Sterns."

Steve frowned. "Who?"

Across the room, Natasha's reaction was different. For a brief second, her eyes widened—just a fraction—but she quickly masked it, her expression smoothing into careful neutrality.

Nathan caught it. Of course, he did. He smirked. "Give him to me, and you'll have the intel you want."

Steve's frown deepened, suspicion creeping into his features. "Again, who is he?"

Nathan shrugged. "A cellular biologist. Grayburn College professor. He was involved in the Hulk incident years ago. SHIELD's been keeping him under lock and key ever since." His smirk widened as he nodded toward Natasha. "I could tell you more… but sneaky and backstabbing over here probably knows more than me."

Natasha's lips pressed into a thin line, but she said nothing.

The silence in the room stretched, thick with unspoken tension.

...

Maria Hill stepped into the dimly lit office, the sound of her boots barely making a sound against the floor. Nick Fury sat behind his desk, fingers steepled, his one good eye fixed on something distant—something she couldn't see. It wasn't often that she caught him like this, lost in thought. The moment she entered, though, his gaze snapped to her, sharp as ever.

"Well?" he asked, voice gruff but expectant. "How'd it go?"

Maria let out a breath, shaking her head. "Everyone remotely involved was tight-lipped. Either they're too scared to talk, or someone made sure they don't know anything worth saying." She crossed her arms, frowning. "Something big must've gone down, but I can't even begin to guess what."

Fury leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose. He wasn't surprised. If anything, he looked like he expected this outcome. "Then I'll save you some time," he said. "If you couldn't dig up anything after all this time, then there isn't anything left to dig up."

Maria's frown deepened. "So, what? You want me to just let this one go?"

Fury scoffed. "Hell no. But I don't like wasting talent on a wild goose chase either. For now, drop your investigation into Nathan Cross."

She gave him a skeptical look. "That doesn't sound like you."

"It ain't," Fury admitted. "But we might already have the clue we need to figure him out."

That caught her interest. She straightened. "And what clue would that be?"

Fury leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "Cross has intel on the bombing of Ali Al Salem Air Base in Kuwait. And we have reason to believe it's connected to a series of attacks targeting U.S. interests."

Maria's brow furrowed. "And what does he want in exchange for this intel?"

Fury's expression darkened. "Custody of a man named Samuel Sterns."

Maria tilted her head. The name rang a bell, but she couldn't quite place it. "That sounds familiar…"

Fury nodded. "It should. Sterns was a scientist—a cellular biologist working out of Grayburn College. Was being the key word. Back when Bruce Banner was still on the run, Sterns tried to help him, got himself infected with Hulk blood in the process."

Maria's expression shifted from confusion to alarm. "And we still have him?"

"Officially?" Fury said. "We've been keeping him under observation, making sure he doesn't turn into a problem." He let that hang in the air for a second before continuing. "Unofficially? The U.S. government's been trying to figure out how to make more Hulks. Malleable ones. Soldiers they can control."

Maria inhaled sharply. "That's insane. They want weaponized Hulks?"

Fury didn't need to answer. His silence said enough.

Maria Hill exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "And Cross wants him? Why?"

She wasn't just asking for the sake of it—she genuinely didn't have an answer. Cross was a mystery, a puzzle that never fit quite right. She already knew he had taken a scientist by the name of Elihas Starr under his wing, a man once branded as an enemy of the state. And then there was Rick Mason, Cross's associate—his partner in crime, if the reports were accurate.

Rick had been making frequent visits to Calvin Zabo in prison, a man with more skeletons in his closet than most serial killers. Given Mason's recruitment patterns, he was probably trying to get Zabo on board too.

But Samuel Sterns? He didn't fit.

Sterns wasn't a rogue physicist like Starr, who had his own ambitions, or a deranged geneticist like Zabo, obsessed with transformation. Sterns had been an accident, a man in the wrong place at the wrong time. And yet, Cross somehow knew about him.

Maria couldn't even begin to guess what he wanted him for.

Fury was already a step ahead. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin. "I've been reviewing Sterns' file. At first glance, nothing stands out—other than the obvious. His involvement with Bruce Banner. The fact that his intellect was massively boosted by exposure to Hulk blood."

He drummed his fingers on the desk before adding, "But here's where it gets interesting—General Thaddeus Ross wanted him."

Maria's frown deepened. "Ross?"

Fury nodded. "SHIELD had to fight him tooth and nail to keep Sterns in our custody. Ross pushed every button he had to get his hands on the guy. And when that didn't work? He made damn sure Sterns' life was a living hell behind bars."

Maria narrowed her eyes. "That explains why Sterns isn't cooperating with us."

"Exactly," Fury confirmed. "Ross did everything he could to break him down. Restricted access to books, isolation protocols, constant surveillance—hell, even the guards were handpicked to keep him on edge." Fury's voice darkened. "And now, out of nowhere, Nathan Cross wants him? Yeah. That's not a coincidence."

Maria crossed her arms. "Didn't Cross have some kind of quarrel with Ross before his honorable discharge? I remember reading he sucker-punched him or something."

Fury snorted, shaking his head. "That's the sanitized version. The report says sucker punch—the truth?" His gaze sharpened. "Cross stabbed Ross. Damn near killed him."

Maria's eyes widened. "What?"

"I barely managed to dig that up even with my clearance level," Fury admitted. "Someone worked real hard to bury it."

A silence fell between them, thick with implications.

...

Maria Hill let out a slow, measured sigh, rubbing her temples. "Captain Rogers did mention that Cross admitted to wanting to use SHIELD to take someone down..." She met Fury's gaze, her voice edged with speculation. "Do you think that someone is General Ross?"

Fury nodded without hesitation. "I think that's exactly what Cross is trying to tell us."

Maria frowned, arms crossed. "So what do we do about it?"

Fury leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose. "What can we do? We hand Sterns over."

Maria's brows shot up. "Just like that?"

"The research is a dead end," Fury stated, his voice steady but laced with frustration. "And after what Ross did to him, Sterns isn't talking to us anytime soon. SHIELD lost control of this situation years ago." He shrugged. "At this point, Cross is the only one with any chance of getting something useful out of him."

Maria was quiet for a moment, then shook her head. "You do realize what you're saying, right? You're handing an unstable test subject with superhuman intellect over to Nathan Cross—who, might I remind you, is already dangerous enough on his own."

Fury scoffed. "Oh, don't get me wrong—I don't like it. But I don't see another choice if we want to keep working with Cross."

Maria raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms tighter. "Didn't think you liked him that much."

Fury's scowl deepened. "I'd send him to the other side of the damn universe if I could." His voice was low, sharp with barely restrained irritation. "But with Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes tangled up in this mess? That option's off the table."

A silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken implications.

Maria exhaled, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "This is a mistake."

Fury didn't disagree. But that didn't change what needed to be done.

...

The air was thick with the acrid scent of gunpowder.

On the far end of the testing range, the deep, percussive crack of high-caliber rifles echoed off the reinforced walls. The armor-piercing rounds tore through layers of ballistic gel and steel plating like they were paper, leaving ragged holes in their wake. The dummies, designed to simulate enhanced targets, barely had time to register impact before crumpling.

Nathan Cross watched in silence, arms folded as he observed the controlled destruction unfold before him. His expression was unreadable, but there was a sharpness in his eyes—calculating, satisfied.

Beside him, Rick Mason tucked his hands into his jacket pockets, surveying the demonstration with a smirk. "Looks like Starr's been earning his keep," he remarked.

Nathan exhaled through his nose, nodding. "He's done good work. These will punch through anything short of full-body tank plating." His gaze lingered on the shredded targets. "And when A.I.M.'s Extremis freaks start showing up in droves, a platoon of soldiers armed with these weapons will be just the thing to put them down...."

Rick let out a low whistle. "Gotta say, Nate, when you decide to make a statement, you don't hold back."

Nathan turned slightly, glancing at him. "The point isn't just to put them down. It's to make sure everyone watching knows exactly who put them down."

Rick gave a small chuckle. "Yeah, well... I think the message'll come through loud and clear." He shifted his weight, lowering his voice slightly. "Speaking of which—Think Tank's coming along. Managed to get Calvin Zabo on board."

Nathan finally turned to look at him fully. "And?"

Rick's smirk widened. "And now we just need Stern and the imperfect Extremis equation to make this whole thing work."

Nathan tilted his head slightly, processing. Then, after a beat, he gave a small, almost amused nod. "Good."

Rick studied him for a moment before his expression turned more serious. "So what's next?"

Nathan's gaze flickered back to the testing range. Another shot rang out. Another target down.

"Get ready to snatch Maya Hansen."

Rick frowned, shifting to face him. "Wait—what about Stern? You were the one who said we needed him to get this done."

Nathan barely looked at him as he gave a dismissive wave. "We'll get Stern soon enough."

Rick didn't push further. He knew better than to question a plan that was already in motion.

Nathan exhaled, watching as another round of armor-piercing shots punched through reinforced plating.

Things were coming together. And soon, the world was going to feel it.

...

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