"All right. I've finished the examination."
After reading the memories of the captured Hammer-Bearers, Rowan spoke calmly. "They were indeed influenced by Kull's divine power. Most of their actions weren't voluntary. That said…" His gaze shifted slightly. "These Hydra leaders would have been mass murderers even without outside influence. There's no need to keep them."
Several streams of dark, unnatural flame flicked from his hand.
Sin, Baron Zemo, Baron Strucker, Madame Hydra, and Hive were engulfed in black fire. There were no screams, no struggle. In the blink of an eye, all five were reduced to ash.
To Rowan, they weren't assets. They were liabilities. Leaving them alive would only invite future disasters.
T'Challa and the Wakandan guards swallowed hard.
"Mr. Mercer… my father—" T'Challa began.
"Kull has already been sealed," Rowan interrupted. "Your father was only temporarily affected. He's unconscious, nothing more. He'll wake up fine."
He paused, then smiled faintly. "By the way, I've heard Wakanda has an entire mountain range of vibranium. Captain Rogers' shield came from your reserves, didn't it? Seems we're not strangers."
T'Challa stiffened slightly.
"I need some vibranium soon," Rowan continued casually. "I'll pay market price. I don't take things for free."
"Mr. Mercer," T'Challa said quickly, lowering his head. "You defeated Kull and saved my father. That is the same as saving the king of Wakanda. We would like to gift you vibranium as a token of our gratitude. Please accept it."
T'Challa understood the situation perfectly.
He knew Wakanda never sold vibranium. Money meant nothing to them. But he also knew this was not the moment to draw lines in the sand. His father was still here. Five Hydra leaders had just been erased without hesitation. And the man standing in front of him clearly knew where Wakanda was.
"This is… embarrassing," Rowan said with a mild chuckle. "But if you insist, refusing would make me seem insincere. Very well."
He leaned closer, his voice dropping just a fraction. "Take your father and go. When I need it, I'll come to Wakanda myself. I already know where to find you."
"Yes. Of course," T'Challa replied, forcing a controlled smile.
Moments later, the Wakandan ship lifted off, carrying the unconscious T'Chaka and the royal guard away.
Rowan then turned to the last remaining figure on the ground.
"Aldrich Killian," he said flatly. "You can stop pretending. You've seen everything. I'm deciding whether you're worth keeping alive."
Killian opened his eyes immediately.
"Don't kill me," he said hurriedly. "My original goal was to help disabled people regenerate limbs. To improve lives. The test subjects were wounded veterans. Volunteers."
Rowan's expression didn't change.
"Interesting," he replied. "Because what I saw in your memories was very different. You wanted to mass-produce Extremis soldiers. First to take revenge on Tony Stark. Then to seize control of the United States. And eventually the world."
He tilted his head. "The limb-regeneration goal belonged to Dr. Maya Hansen. Not you."
The lie collapsed instantly.
Tony frowned. "Hold on. Who are you? Why do you hate me this much? I don't even remember you."
Killian exploded in rage, flames bursting across his body. "You arrogant bastard! You still don't remember?!"
He lunged forward, only to be frozen in place by a casual spell from Rowan.
"That's enough," Rowan said.
He gave Tony a brief explanation. Twelve years ago. New Year's Eve, 1999. Bern. Killian had idolized Tony and traveled across the world seeking investment for the Extremis project. Tony, distracted and careless, told him to wait on the roof. Then never came back.
Left alone in the cold, humiliated, Killian nearly jumped.
Instead, he chose revenge.
Tony fell silent for a long moment.
"…I remember," he said at last. "I was a mess back then. I'm sorry."
Killian said nothing.
Wolverine snorted. "You're still kind of a mess now."
Rowan waved a hand. "His crimes don't warrant immediate execution. But letting him go would be worse."
With that, Killian vanished into a containment box.
Turning him over to the government wasn't an option. Rowan had no intention of seeing an army of Extremis-enhanced soldiers appear in the future. Locking Killian away was the safest choice, at least for now.
Besides, Rowan was… curious.
Extremis enhanced physical strength. Not by much, considering Rowan's current body. It allowed extreme heat tolerance and flame generation, which could marginally amplify his fire-based magic.
But that wasn't the real attraction.
It was the regeneration.
Severed limbs regrown in seconds. As long as the body wasn't completely destroyed.
Rowan exhaled slowly.
Even now, if he lost an arm, he couldn't regrow it. Magic could reattach it. Potions from other worlds could restore limbs. But those required rare materials not always available.
Extremis offered something different.
A deeper margin of survival.
And that, more than power, was worth thinking about.