Midtown Manhattan, Frieza Tower.
This skyscraper, which had just experienced the ravages of war, was not only restored to its original state at an astonishing speed with the dual supports of money and alien technology, but it was also even more luxurious and possessed an even more suffocating sense of oppression than before.
Top floor, CEO's office.
Frieza sat in the executive chair, which overlooked the entirety of New York, swirling a glass of blood-red wine in his hand.
He slightly narrowed his crimson eyes, observing the middle-aged fat man before him who was almost on his knees. This was the general manager of his former real estate company, a shrewd man who had years of experience in Wall Street.
But at this moment, the shrewd man was trembling like a late-stage Parkinson's patient.
"Well done."
Frieza took a sip of wine, his tone so gentle it sent shivers down one's spine. "You repaired my office in just half a day. It seems keeping you was the right decision."
"Th-thank you, Lord Frieza. It's my honor."
The general manager's cold sweat dripped onto the floor, making 'tap-tap' sounds, but he didn't even dare to wipe it away. He had personally witnessed on television how this blonde devil had erased Washington D.C. from the map.
"Honor?"
A playful smirk appeared on Frieza's lips as he put down his wine glass and lightly tapped the table with his fingers.
"Since you like honor so much, I'll give you another one."
He pointed to Natasha, who stood beside him, clad in that humiliating white and purple battle suit, her face as cold as ice.
"From today onwards, all your work will be reported to her. Deputy Natasha's orders are my will. Even if she tells you to jump off a building, you must jump with the most elegant posture, understand?"
"Yes! Understood! Absolute obedience!" The general manager nodded frantically.
"Very good."
Frieza nodded in satisfaction, leaning back slightly, like an emperor lording over the world.
"Now, issue a global announcement for me."
"Tell all the ambitious people, madmen, criminals, or self-proclaimed mutants on this planet."
Frieza's eyes flickered with a purple glow, his voice imbued with extreme temptation and evil.
"This is the headquarters of the Frieza Force. We are now recruiting talented individuals. As long as they are capable and willing to submit to me, in this vast universe, in the countless planets we are about to conquer in the future, there will be a territory for each of them."
"Go, spread this message to every corner of the world."
"Y-yes, sir."
The general manager tremblingly retreated, almost tripping as he closed the door, his legs weak.
The room fell silent.
Frieza spun his chair, looking at the blue sky and white clouds outside the window.
"I've changed my mind about the game in two days."
"It would be too boring if I killed all those ants who want to challenge me in one go. I need to set some hurdles for them."
"For example, they'll have to get past my Frieza Force first."
Names of famous Marvel villains flashed through his mind.
Black Cat, White Queen, Bullseye, Taskmaster...
"Recruit them all. Those who want to challenge me must first get past my subordinates."
"When I make them realize that they can't even beat my dogs..."
Frieza's smile gradually became ferocious.
"That despair will be even richer, even more delicious. Oh ho ho ho..."
—
Meanwhile, in New York, a secret underground S.H.I.E.L.D. base.
On the large screen in the conference room, footage of Washington D.C. being instantly wiped out by a purple tidal wave was playing on a loop. That scene was like a heavy hammer, striking hard at everyone's hearts.
Alexander was dead.
The President was dead.
Even the White House, a symbol of freedom and power, had been utterly reduced to historical dust.
Although the Vice President had been urgently taken to safety, and the government had used every means to try and block the news, in this era of information explosion, panic, like a virus, had already spread throughout the United States.
"It's useless... it's all useless..."
Tony was curled up in a chair, staring blankly at the screen.
This once arrogant genius now looked like a hollow shell with its soul sucked out.
"We are fighting against a god."
Tony's voice was hoarse, carrying a deep sense of powerlessness.
"When true gods walk among men, wantonly unleashing destruction, our resistance as mortals is like monkeys throwing stones at a T-Rex... it's meaningless, except to anger him."
"Stark!"
Steve slammed his hand on the table, his brows furrowed.
Although his heart was also filled with shock and fear, his resolute spirit would not allow him to give up now.
"Stand up! Look outside!"
He pointed out the window and said, "As long as there is one person alive, as long as there is a glimmer of hope, we cannot give up. That is the meaning of the Avengers."
"Now is not the time for despair."
Just then, the conference room door was violently pushed open.
Brock Rumlow, the undercover HYDRA agent 'Crossbones,' strode in with a team of fully armed soldiers.
His face showed an undisguised ambition and fanaticism. "Well said, Captain."
He walked to the head of the table, leaning his hands on it, his gaze sweeping across the room.
"Now Director Pierce has died in the line of duty, and Commander Hill has been controlled by that demon. S.H.I.E.L.D. is headless and in chaos."
"At a time like this, a strong leader is needed to take charge of the situation."
Brock patted his chest. "After much deep thought, I feel it is my duty, and I have the ability, to temporarily take over command of S.H.I.E.L.D.."
The dagger was revealed.
At this critical moment, HYDRA still wanted to seize power.
"I object."
Steve stood up without hesitation, his blue eyes fixed on Brock. Although he didn't know Brock was a member of HYDRA, he instinctively felt that this person's motives were impure.
Steve said, "Rumlow, you're just a strike team leader. What we need now is a leader who can unite all forces, not a warlord who only gives orders."
"Then who do you think is suitable? You? Old man popsicle?" Brock sneered, his hand already reaching for the gun at his waist.
"If it's the Captain, I have no objection."
Barton, who had been silent, suddenly spoke, standing behind Steve.
"I agree too." Bruce pushed up his glasses.
Although he was afraid, he trusted Steve more.
Even the perpetually dejected Tony slowly raised his head. "If I have to choose someone who isn't a madman to lead, I choose the old man popsicle."
"You all..."
Brock's face turned ashen, watching the agents around him gradually gather their gazes behind Steve. He knew that the tide had turned.
At this moment of collapsing faith, Steve's golden reputation had more rallying power than any military rank.
Brock gritted his teeth, glared fiercely at Steve, and turned to storm out, slamming the door behind him.
"You'll regret this."
After driving Brock away, Steve took a deep breath, feeling the heavy responsibility on his shoulders.
"Since everyone trusts me, I will no longer decline."
His gaze became resolute. "I will lead S.H.I.E.L.D., I will lead the Avengers, and even if it means shedding my last drop of blood, I will fight Frieza to the very end."
Zzz—!
The space in the center of the conference room suddenly cracked open, and countless golden sparks spun and danced, forming a circular portal.
A scent of sandalwood wafted through the air. Immediately after, a bald woman in a yellow monk's robe, accompanied by a plump Asian sorcerer, slowly emerged from the sparks.
The Sorcerer Supreme, the Ancient One.
"It seems I've arrived just in time."
The Ancient One's gaze swept over everyone, finally resting on Steve, and she nodded slightly.
"The balance of the world has been broken, and the boundaries of multiple dimensions are blurring."
"If the being who calls himself Frieza is not stopped, Earth will face a fate more terrifying than destruction."
—
Meanwhile.
On flights, trains, and even highways leading to New York, some strange people appeared.
A hot white-haired woman in a tight leather suit was touching up her makeup in first class, a hint of cold light occasionally flashing from her fingertips—Black Cat.
A noble, ice-cold woman, completely diamond-like, was sipping champagne in a private jet—White Queen.
And there was also a bizarre man in a white lab coat with a lizard tail, a green-skinned madman laughing maniacally on a hoverboard, a burly man whose body could turn into sand...
Frieza's recruitment order was like a huge magnet, attracting all the rogues and monsters of the Marvel Universe.
For these villains, who they worked for didn't matter. Working for the Emperor of the Universe not only gave them prestige, but they might even get to be a planetary governor. Wasn't this better than being chased by superheroes on Earth?
Frieza Tower, lobby.
The lobby had now been transformed into a massive interview site.
Natasha, wearing that humiliating white and purple battle suit, sat at the interviewer's desk with a grim expression.
Although she was a thousand times unwilling, under the constraints of the soul contract, she had to faithfully carry out Frieza's orders—to recruit talent for the force.
"Name?"
"Doctor Octopus."
"Abilities?"
"I have four mechanical tentacles. Not only can I fight, but I can also stir-fry four dishes at once..."
Natasha's lips twitched, and she tapped "Pass" on her tablet.
Top floor office.
Frieza looked at the list Natasha had sent up, his smile growing wider.
"Abomination? Juggernaut? Bullseye?"
"Oh ho ho ho... Excellent."
"The power level of these guys, on average, is slightly greater than those Avengers who only shout slogans."
Frieza lightly tapped his fingers on the table, as if he could already see the tragic scene two days later when the Avengers would be beaten up by this group of villains.
The Fear Points generated at that time would surely erupt like a fountain, wouldn't it?
Just as Frieza was immersed in his beautiful plans for the future—
Buzz!
The space in the center of the office suddenly underwent a strange fluctuation.
But this was not the golden magical portal of the Ancient One. Instead, it was a rectangular energy door emanating an orange glow, like a retro elevator door appearing out of thin air.
Immediately after, a team of fully armed individuals in black uniforms, holding strange batons, emerged.
Their uniforms were emblazoned with three striking letters—TVA.
Time Variance Authority.
The leader was a female judge in a helmet. She looked at Frieza, who was sitting in the executive chair, took out an instrument to scan him, and then expressionlessly declared, "Prisoner Frieza, you have severely disrupted the Sacred Timeline, causing the creation of multiple branched timelines."
"According to the regulations of the Time Variance Authority, you are under arrest."
"Please cease resistance immediately and return with us to be pruned."
Looking at these unexpected guests who had suddenly appeared, Frieza was not surprised. Instead, he showed an expected smile.
He slowly stood up, adjusting his battle suit. "TVA, huh?"
"After causing such a big commotion, I thought you guys would be late."
Frieza extended a finger, and destructive light gathered at its tip.
"You want to prune me?"
"Then let's see of the time stick is harder or if my death beam is harder."
"Oh ho ho ho..."