[Island Fortress – Mesogog's Lair]
At the very core of the island fortress, deep within layers of reinforced alloy and ancient stone, Mesogog sat upon his dark, jagged throne. The air around him felt heavy, oppressive, as if the lair itself bowed to his presence. A glowing blue cube hovered just above his clawed palms, slowly rotating, humming with a low, cosmic resonance. Each pulse of light illuminated the sharp angles of his reptilian face, casting long, warped shadows across the chamber.
Before the throne, Zeltrax and Elsa knelt. No—cowered. Their bodies trembled uncontrollably, knees pressed to the cold floor, foreheads nearly scraping the stone. Fear radiated off them in waves so thick it was almost tangible.
"Your uselessness is becoming increasingly disgusting," Mesogog spoke at last.
His voice was calm. Too calm. It carried no rage, no heat—only cold logic and absolute authority. Yet those words struck Zeltrax and Elsa harder than any physical blow ever could. Their hearts skipped, dread flooding their veins.
Mesogog observed their reaction and felt nothing but deeper contempt. He was the Dino Overlord, a being destined to reshape the world through evolution and domination. Yet somehow, he was cursed with subordinates this incompetent. Even the mindless Tyrannodrones—mass-produced, soulless soldiers—performed better than these two.
"I assigned you simple missions," he continued, his tone flat and merciless. "And yet you failed. Worse, your failures caused damage to my greater plans. Tell me… do you believe you deserve to live after this?"
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
Zeltrax and Elsa became frantic, their composure completely shattered. Both practically flattened themselves against the floor, bodies shaking as they desperately sought forgiveness. It truly wasn't their fault—not entirely—but in the presence of Mesogog, excuses were meaningless. Their reasons held no weight. Only results mattered.
All they could do was hope. Hope that today, Mesogog's mood leaned slightly away from execution and more toward restraint.
Zeltrax was the first to speak. He bowed repeatedly, his metal-plated forehead striking the ground again and again, cracks forming beneath the force.
"M-My… lord," he stammered, voice trembling. "Your subordinate is truly sorry. It was all the Rangers' fault. They destroyed everything—every plan we laid out. Please, my lord, forgive us. I swear… I swear this will never happen again."
"Yes—yes, my lord," Elsa quickly added, lifting her head just enough to speak, terror and desperation etched across her face. "It was the Rangers—especially the Omni-Ranger. His power was immense, far beyond our calculations. His technology was… abnormal. We couldn't counter it. We truly couldn't do anything against him, Lord Mesogog."
Mesogog let out a low, disdainful sound.
"Hmph."
His glowing eyes narrowed, radiating cold disdain. "Useless. Cowardly. Out of my sight."
Without even lifting a finger, Mesogog's telekinesis surged outward.
"BOOM!"
An invisible force slammed into both Zeltrax and Elsa, lifting them off the ground like discarded debris and hurling them violently across the chamber.
"Ahhh!"
"Pttt—!"
Their bodies smashed into the far wall outside the throne-lab chamber, skidding across the floor before finally coming to a stop. The impact cracked the reinforced flooring beneath them, spiderweb fractures spreading outward.
Groaning, they struggled to move.
Slowly, painfully, both looked back toward the open chamber—and froze.
Mesogog stood at the threshold, staring at them.
Those eyes… they weren't the eyes of a ruler looking at subjects. They were the eyes of a scientist examining failed tools. Disposable. Replaceable. Worthless.
Zeltrax shuddered internally.
Elsa felt a deeper chill crawl up her spine.
"Damn…" she thought as she forced herself upright, her muscles screaming in pain. "I almost died. I can't keep this act up for much longer. If I hesitate… I really will be killed."
Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth, splattering softly onto the floor. She wiped it away with the back of her hand, her expression twisting as agony flared through her body.
"I need to speed things up," she continued internally. "Before he decides I'm no longer useful."
Together, she and Zeltrax dragged their battered bodies away from the throne-lab chamber. Every step felt like walking on shattered glass, yet relief flooded their minds despite the pain.
They were alive.
For now.
They both knew how merciless Mesogog could be. Cruel. Selfish. Unpredictable. There was no telling what he might do on a whim. Execution, experimentation, mutation—nothing was off the table.
Receiving only a "light" punishment today felt like a miracle.
Several minutes passed after they disappeared down the corridor.
Mesogog was alone once more.
The doors slid shut behind them with a heavy clang, sealing the chamber in silence. Mesogog's gaze lingered briefly on the spot where Elsa had vanished. He snorted softly.
"Hmph. An ant, bound to be used by me," he muttered. "I'll spare you… for now. My great plan still requires certain pieces."
His attention shifted back to the blue cube hovering above his palms.
The Cosmic Cube.
A relic of unfathomable power.
"Infinite energy," Mesogog whispered, his voice tinged with reverence and madness. "It's finally mine."
A distorted, reptilian grin spread across his face, stretching unnaturally wide. His eyes glowed brighter, reflecting pure greed and ecstasy. For the first time in a long while, genuine satisfaction surged through him.
Even with setbacks… even with failures… he had succeeded.
This had always been his second objective.
The first had failed.
But this… this more than made up for it.
He let out a low, rasping laugh that echoed through the chamber.
Then a thought crossed his mind—one that made his laughter sharper, mocking.
"Haha… Fury," Mesogog sneered. "Such a fool."
He paced slowly before his throne, the cube floating alongside him as if bound to his will.
"A man who prides himself on contingencies. Backup plans layered upon backup plans," Mesogog continued, voice dripping with condescension. "And yet… he was too blind to see through mine."
He paused, then laughed again, louder this time.
"Oh wait," he added smugly. "That's because I'm a genius. Hahahahaha!"
The laughter abruptly stopped.
In an instant, Mesogog's expression shifted. The manic joy vanished, replaced by icy calculation. His lips curled into a cunning smirk.
"I hope you enjoy my gift," he said quietly. "Consider it… revenge. From my side."
He tilted his head slightly, imagining Fury's reaction.
"I would have loved to see the look on your face," Mesogog continued, chuckling darkly. "Hahahaha…"
--- ✦ ---
[The Trask Building]
(Helicarrier Docking Bay / S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters)
Deep within S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, security was already operating at maximum capacity.
Agents moved with sharp precision through the halls as Anton Mercer—or what they believed to be Anton Mercer—was transported to an even more secure holding cell. Layers of reinforced containment fields activated one after another as the prisoner was escorted deeper into the complex.
Nick Fury watched it all through a series of transparent displays.
He didn't trust this situation.
Not one bit.
Fury knew better than anyone that this individual was a high-risk asset. A ticking bomb waiting to explode. Years in intelligence had taught him that threats didn't always announce themselves loudly—sometimes they hid behind calm expressions and convenient truths.
He didn't completely trust the source of the information regarding Anton Mercer.
But he trusted his instincts.
And his instincts told him not to take chances.
Even if they had detained the wrong man, Fury was confident he could extract something useful. Anton Mercer was the father of a suspected evil Ranger. That connection alone made him valuable.
There had to be a link.
"Agent Maria," Fury said as he stood on the 78th floor of the Trask Building, his back to the windows, city lights sprawling beneath him. He shuffled through a stack of digital documents, his brow furrowed. "How's the investigation going?"
Maria Hill stood at attention before him, posture straight, expression serious.
"I'm sorry to report, sir," she said firmly, "we couldn't get anything on him."
Fury looked up sharply.
"No fingerprints?" he asked. "No recognizable energy signature? No voice recognition match?"
"None, sir," Maria replied without hesitation.
Fury leaned back slightly, exhaling through his nose. Disappointment mixed with confusion settled in his chest.
"Damn it…" he muttered under his breath.
"Sigh… it seems I'll have to place my hopes on Natasha," Fury thought quietly, his face looking as though it had aged several years in a single moment.
None of this made sense.
How could someone exist and not exist at the same time?
They could observe his actions. Track his movements visually. But every attempt to lock onto him through data—biometrics, energy scans, digital traces—came back empty.
Fury trusted his technology.
It wasn't on par with S.P.D., sure—but it was still among the most advanced on the planet.
"He can't stay hidden forever," Fury said with quiet conviction. "We'll locate him soon. I'm sure of it."
He straightened. "You may leave, Agent Maria."
"Yes, sir."
Maria saluted, turned, and exited the room.
Left alone, Fury stood in silence for several moments. His mind raced, piecing together fragments that refused to align. Something was off. Deeply off.
Finally, he turned and began walking toward the holding sector.
Several minutes later, he stopped before a massive reinforced door.
SPECIAL CONTAINMENT CELL – AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY
Fury placed his ID against the scanner. The system verified his clearance instantly, and the door slid open with a heavy mechanical hiss.
A turbid, oppressive air rushed out.
Fury paused, took a deep breath, then stepped inside.
The cell was dimly lit.
Anton Mercer sat silently within, restrained, unmoving. His posture was relaxed—too relaxed. His head was lowered, shadowing his face.
Slowly, Anton raised his eyes.
They met Fury's gaze.
Those eyes were… hollow.
Empty.
Not tired. Not angry.
Vacant.
A chill ran through Fury's spine.
"Was the information true?" he thought grimly.
Then—
Anton began to laugh.
"Hahahahahah!!!!!!"
The sudden sound echoed unnaturally within the cell.
"What th—" Fury started.
Before he could finish, Anton's body glitched.
His form distorted, flickering like corrupted footage. The human shape dissolved, reforming into a tall, reptilian silhouette.
Mesogog.
A hologram.
The image solidified just long enough for Mesogog's cruel grin to be unmistakable.
"I win, S.H.I.E.L.D."
The hologram faded.
Fury's mind buzzed violently.
"Oh no…" he thought. "I've been tricked."
His eyes widened.
"But why—"
Then realization struck him like a punch to the gut.
"The cube," Fury breathed. "Motherfucker!!!"
He cursed loudly, fury contorting his face as he spun toward the cell.
Before he could react further—
Beep.
Beep.
Beep!!!
His blood ran cold.
At the center of the now-empty cell sat a small metallic box, flashing red.
A countdown glowed on its surface.
00:05
00:04
"IT'S A BOMB!!!" Fury shouted, slamming his hand against his communicator as he tried to warn nearby agents.
But he already knew.
It was too late.
BOOM!!!
--- ✦ ---
Hey guys, how is the chapter? I'm open to opinions and criticism. Thanks for all the support. I love you all ❤️
Power Stones!!!