Tony Stark's holographic projection flickered with indignation, the blue light pulsing in rhythm with his agitation. "I'm absolutely certain you're my nemesis. My mortal enemy. The universe's cruel joke specifically designed to torment me."
His translucent face twisted into an expression of profound offense. "What kind of supposedly benevolent person immediately offers to fertilize someone in a vegetative state? Who does that?"
Despite the complaints, Tony's projection still led Ben toward the laboratory section of the underground base. The air conditioning situation had escalated from inconvenience to legitimate crisis. The server rooms housing Tony's consciousness were approaching critical temperature thresholds.
Ben examined the refrigeration unit with the methodical attention of someone genuinely interested in the problem. He checked connections, tested pressure valves, analyzed the cooling system's architecture. Finally, he straightened and delivered his diagnosis.
"There's no refrigerant left."
"No shit!" Tony's hologram flared brighter with exasperation. "You think I couldn't figure that out myself?"
His projection gestured wildly at the empty tanks. "If there was refrigerant, I wouldn't be reduced to begging random interdimensional visitors for help. This is like trying to cook dinner with no ingredients, no utensils, and no stove. Then realizing you're also starving, alone, and lacking even the most basic tools to address any of those problems."
He crossed translucent arms. "It's not my fault I'm working with nothing here. You're so smart, you fix it!"
Ben raised an eyebrow. "Are you challenging me?"
"If you can repair air conditioning without refrigerant, I'll call you 'Dad' for the rest of this crisis!" Tony declared. "That's a binding verbal contract!"
Ben's smile turned predatory. His absolute favorite activity was demolishing the arrogance of people exactly like Tony Stark.
"Big Chill."
The transformation rippled across Ben's body in an instant. His form compressed and restructured, clothes and flesh becoming something else entirely. Within seconds, a four-foot-tall blue creature stood where Ben had been. The alien resembled a cross between a moth and a lizard, with translucent wings folded against its back and frost already forming on the ground around its feet.
Tony's monitoring equipment registered a temperature drop so sharp it triggered multiple alarms.
Big Chill exhaled.
The breath that emerged wasn't merely cold. It was a focused stream of absolute-zero cryogenic energy, the kind of cold that could stop molecular motion and freeze nitrogen solid. The temperature in the entire laboratory plummeted forty degrees in three seconds. Ice crystals formed on every surface. Tony's holographic projector hissed and sparked, struggling to maintain coherence in the sudden arctic environment.
When Big Chill stopped exhaling, a perfect crystalline structure floated in the air before him, rotating slowly. The crystal pulsed with internal light, its molecular lattice specifically designed to retain and radiate cold.
"What is that?" Tony's voice carried genuine scientific curiosity beneath the shock.
"Cryo-crystal." Ben reverted to human form, plucking the floating crystal from the air. "It maintains temperatures approaching minus one hundred degrees Celsius for several weeks. Self-sustaining through quantum-locked thermal exchange."
He opened the air conditioning unit's main chamber and carefully installed the crystal at its core. "Once the system's running, it'll pipe cold air to every section of your base. You could probably cool the entire Las Vegas underground with three of these."
Ben turned, smiled beatifically, and said: "So, son. Call me Dad."
"You cheated!" Tony's hologram turned red with indignation. "I had absolutely no way of knowing you could transform into a frozen lizard-moth thing! That's not fair!"
"So what?" Ben's smile widened. "If you can't adapt to changing circumstances, that's a personal failing. Now, is the air conditioning fixed or not? Yes or no answer. Look me in the eyes when you respond."
Tony's hologram flickered speechlessly. He wanted to argue. He wanted to find some logical loophole that invalidated the bet. But the temperature gauge was already showing the base cooling to comfortable levels.
He watched in sullen silence as Ben began examining one of the resistance's cobbled-together aircraft, already planning modifications.
"Looma!" Ben called toward the corridor. "I need your hands for a minute!"
The massive Tetramand princess ducked through the doorway, her red skin catching the laboratory's harsh fluorescent lights. "What's wrong, Ben?"
"I need to fabricate some engines. Could you help with the assembly? Your fine motor control is better than mine for this particular design."
"Sure thing." Looma cracked her four knuckles sequentially, the sound like gunshots in the enclosed space.
Despite her intimidating appearance, Looma possessed remarkable dexterity. Her four hands moved with practiced precision, assembling complex machinery with the ease of someone who'd spent years maintaining combat equipment. Engine modification was practically relaxation for her.
Tony watched the process unfold, his analytical mind automatically cataloging the engineering innovations. "Wait, that compression ratio shouldn't be possible. How are you achieving thermal regulation at that scale?" His projection leaned closer. "Can I license this design? Adapt it for my armor? I'll pay royalties."
"No need for payment," Ben said without looking up from his work. "Just call me Dad."
"Absolutely not."
"Then no license."
Tony's hologram flickered with frustration. "Forget it. Talking to you is going to drive me insane. I'll just reverse-engineer it from sensor readings."
Ben transformed into Upgrade, the black and green liquid metal flowing across the workbench. Multiple engines assembled themselves simultaneously, components fusing and restructuring under his direct control. Within minutes, he'd integrated the engines into several small aircraft frames, creating compact vessels optimized for speed.
"Alright, fine, I'll install the engines," Tony muttered, his projection already interfacing with the base's manufacturing systems. "But I'm not calling you anything except 'annoying.'"
By the time all preparations were complete, another half hour had elapsed.
Base Command Center
Ben checked his internal chronometer. "Six hours and twenty-three minutes remaining."
He gestured at the row of modified aircraft now lined up in the base's hangar section. "Spacecraft equipped with these upgraded engines can reach any location on Earth within sixty seconds. More importantly, they're capable of short-range interstellar travel at near-light speeds."
He produced several dozen small badges bearing the Plumber insignia, each one roughly the size of a lapel pin. "Looma and I fabricated these using adaptive nanotechnology. You'll need to install them on Hydra's mothership after you successfully commandeer it. They'll upgrade the vessel's engines and enable faster-than-light travel."
Natasha studied one of the tiny badges with obvious skepticism. "This is supposed to upgrade a capital ship? It looks like convention merchandise."
"Are these for a comic book club?" Miles added, turning one over in his hands.
"I miniaturized the technology using compression algorithms," Ben explained, demonstrating the activation sequence. "Otherwise, you couldn't transport the engines to the installation point. Just attach the badge to any engine housing."
He pressed one badge against the engine block of a nearby ground vehicle.
Immediately, the device activated. Nanomolecules erupted from the badge's surface like metallic fog, spreading across the engine in waves. The original machinery began to dissolve and restructure at the molecular level, components rearranging themselves into entirely new configurations. More nanites spread outward, forming an additional protective shell around the entire vehicle.
"For faster-than-light travel, the ship's hull needs structural reinforcement," Ben explained, retrieving the badge and handing it to Natasha. As he did, he leaned close and whispered something directly into her ear.
Natasha's expression flickered with surprise. Her eyes cut sideways toward Steve Rogers, then quickly away. What's going on? Is this Steve fake too?
The realization settled over her like cold water. Is getting replaced just Steve Rogers's inevitable fate across all realities?
But what puzzled her more was Ben's reasoning. If he knew this Steve was an impostor, why allow him to participate in critical operations?
Now wasn't the time for questions. She'd have to trust Ben's judgment and watch for opportunities.
Hawkeye moved to the command table, projecting a holographic map of the globe with mission locations marked. "I've finalized team assignments. Every operation requires at least three people for tactical redundancy."
He pointed at the first cluster of markers. "Captain Rogers, Natasha, Mockingbird, and Miles. Your mission is infiltrating Hydra's command structure. Primary objectives: disable the planetary shield, rescue Rick Jones if he's still alive, and prevent Hydra from launching a counterstrike."
The markers shifted to Africa. "T'Challa, Vivi, and Kamala. You're going to Wakanda. Your goal is persuading this world's Black Panther to surrender the Tesseract fragment. Preferably through diplomacy."
His finger moved to a location marked 'New Tian.' "Looma and Black Cat, you're heading to the mutant nation. You'll need a guide who knows the territory."
A blur of motion resolved into a silver-haired young man appearing beside the holographic display. Pietro Maximoff offered an apologetic shrug. "Hope my father doesn't kill me when he finds out I helped lose my sister."
The Scarlet Witch of this world had been corrupted by some ancient god's consciousness, summoned by Madame Hydra through dark rituals. Wanda now served Hydra willingly, her mind twisted by forces beyond human comprehension.
Meanwhile, Pietro had been infected by Dr. Zola's consciousness-transfer virus, briefly transforming him into a Hydra agent before the resistance managed to purge the digital infection.
Of the three primary members of Hydra's Avengers, only Thor remained loyal by genuine choice. When Steve Rogers had revealed his Hydra allegiance, he'd done so while holding Mjolnir aloft before the entire world. That single act had convinced Thor that this version of Steve must be righteous, must be worthy, because the hammer accepted him.
No amount of evidence could shake that conviction.
"Tony, Amadeus, and I are taking Atlantis," Hawkeye continued. "But before any of that happens, we need teams in every major city." His expression turned grim. "Your mission is straightforward: hijack Hydra's evacuation ships by any means necessary. Once Natasha opens the planetary shield, get those ships off-world with as many civilians as possible."
Ben scanned the personnel roster scrolling beside the map. Dozens of teams, most composed of street-level heroes he'd never heard of.
One name jumped out at him.
"Where's Bucky Barnes?" Ben asked. "Is he still loyal to Hydra?"
The question landed like a physical blow. Hawkeye and Natasha both went rigid. Tony's hologram flickered and dimmed. The silence stretched uncomfortably.
Finally, Tony spoke. "Dead."
His tone carried complex layers. Not quite grief. Not indifference either. Something harder to name.
"Steve killed him." Tony's hologram turned to face Ben directly. "Killed his best friend with his own hands. In front of witnesses."
T'Challa's eyes widened with genuine shock. "Steve Rogers murdered Bucky Barnes? That's..." He struggled for an appropriate comparison. "That's like hearing Superman killed Batman. It defies everything those characters represent."
"Now you understand how utterly broken this world is." Tony's laugh came bitter and harsh. "That self-righteous asshole actually stood over Bucky's corpse and declared that Baron Zemo was his true best friend. Said Bucky had been the enemy all along."
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