"As I thought," Nick Fury murmured, eyes narrowing as he watched the live feed from the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier's command deck. "A perfect trap—for someone like Quicksilver."
When he'd first learned of Marcus's metallic physiology, Fury had assumed the man would fight like Colossus—using brute force and durability in close combat. But what he was seeing now was something far more terrifying. It wasn't just power—it was intellect.
In Marcus's hands, the metal-based ability had become the ultimate stealth weapon. Silent, patient, and lethal—a power that turned the battlefield itself into a hidden snare.
Quicksilver, who just moments ago had believed himself invincible, now finally realized the truth: he had been dancing inside Marcus's web from the very beginning. The man he thought was reacting to his attacks had actually been guiding him toward defeat all along.
Under Marcus's control, the web of metallic wires surrounding Quicksilver began to shift—each strand thickening and merging into gleaming plates of steel. Quicksilver tried to punch a way out, but without the space to accelerate, his blows barely dented the surface.
Within moments, the metallic threads had fused into solid walls, forming a sealed cube of reinforced metal.
Inside, there was nothing but pitch-black darkness. No sound, no light—only the oppressive weight of silence. For Quicksilver, it was as though the world itself had stopped. His heightened senses screamed confusion; even time felt muted here.
A faint rush of air broke the stillness. Instinctively, Quicksilver darted across the cube at lightning speed—just in time to avoid a deadly strike.
Marcus could no longer see him, but that didn't matter. The fragment of magnet embedded in Quicksilver's shoulder still pulsed faintly in his magnetic field, mapping every movement, every step. Even in darkness, Marcus could sense him perfectly.
The missed attack didn't frustrate Marcus; it only made his smirk deepen. To him, Quicksilver was already a trapped animal—thrashing against the inevitable.
He reached out and brushed his hand against the cold metal wall of the cube.
"Execute: God Spear."
From the wall behind Quicksilver, a blade erupted—a spear of solid metal propelled with impossible force. Before Quicksilver could even register what was happening, the blade punched clean through his torso.
The blow wasn't fatal—Marcus had aimed precisely to avoid killing him outright—but the wound was deep, savage, and utterly beyond recovery. Even the world's best surgeons wouldn't be able to save him now.
It was the kind of strike that only an assassin—or a soldier like the Winter Soldier—could deliver. Precise. Efficient. Merciless.
Marcus stepped back, watching as Quicksilver slumped to his knees, his blood splattering against the steel. He didn't need him dead—not yet. A dying Quicksilver would serve his next purpose far better than a corpse.
Moments later, the watching agents on the helicarrier's screens gasped in disbelief. Marcus had vanished from the cube entirely—and reappeared behind the S.H.I.E.L.D. strike team, dragging Quicksilver's limp body behind him.
No one had seen how he got out.
He threw Quicksilver onto the back seat of a nearby tactical bike and fastened the restraints casually, like someone handling a broken weapon.
Captain America rushed forward, eyes wide. "Marcus! That was incredible—you did it! You're our hero today!"
But Marcus didn't even look at him. His tone was cold, flat.
"I'm no hero, Captain. I never was—and I never will be. I'm just a killer who gets things done."
Once Quicksilver was secured, Marcus swung a leg over the bike, but the direction of his handlebars made Steve frown. He wasn't heading toward the Hydra fortress… or toward the S.H.I.E.L.D. lines.
"Marcus, where are you going?"
Marcus glanced back over his shoulder, his expression unreadable.
"I'm going to lead her away. You—get your men inside."
Steve's eyes widened. "Wait! Marcus, you can't fight her alone—Scarlet Witch isn't someone you can take on by yourself!"
Marcus revved the engine, snow kicking up around the tires. His gaze turned steely.
"In war, Captain… someone has to lose so that others can win."
And with that, he gunned the throttle and tore down the mountain path, ignoring Steve's calls to stop.
Of course, Marcus's motives weren't nearly as noble as they sounded. This wasn't about heroism—it was about necessity. He needed Wanda alive, angry, and chasing him. He needed her to fall right into the next trap.
The bike roared through the snow like a streak of black lightning, leaving a trail of churned ice in its wake. Quicksilver's unconscious body bounced limply on the back seat as Marcus descended the slope at full speed.
Naturally, Wanda noticed.
"Pietro!"
Her crimson eyes burned as her fury ignited. Raising her arms, she summoned the surrounding snow and ice into the air. Within moments, the storm condensed into a massive ice spear, spinning violently as raw scarlet energy wrapped around it like living fire.
"Put my brother down!" she screamed.
Her voice, though belonging to a young woman, carried the weight and terror of the Hulk's roar.
Marcus smirked and called back through the snowstorm, his voice calm, deliberate—mocking.
"If you want him back… then come and get him."
The provocation worked.
Wanda's fury erupted like a dam breaking. The massive spear whirled faster, glowing red-hot under the surge of her chaotic magic.
"You're digging your own grave!"
With a final motion, she hurled the colossal ice spear like a missile. It ripped through the air toward Marcus's bike, trailing a crimson vortex.
"BOOM!"
The explosion shook the mountain. The impact obliterated the trail, sending a wave of snow, ice, and fire into the air. The blast triggered an avalanche, a roaring wall of white swallowing everything in its path.
Within seconds, the mountain was engulfed in chaos—snow thundering down like the wrath of the gods.
When the smoke and frost finally began to clear, Marcus was gone.
Buried beneath tons of snow, or worse.
"Marcus?! Marcus, do you copy?!" Captain America shouted desperately into his comms. There was no reply.
The static silence was deafening.
Just like Thor before him, Marcus had vanished without a trace. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s trackers registered nothing. No signal. No heartbeat. No movement.
He was simply—gone.
__
🎉 Shoutout to Mister What! 🎉
A huge thank you to Mister What for joining my Patreon and supporting the journey! Your support means a lot and helps keep the chapters coming faster. Welcome to the VIP club! 🙌✨