Moving Forward

New York

Tony Stark and Hank Pym stood side by side in the lab at Stark Tower, their faces lined with exhaustion and concentration. Before them was a specially designed containment chamber built to safely house Simon Williams in his ionic energy form. The sleek, cylindrical chamber hummed softly.

Nearby, Stanford Williams watched with a mixture of hope and fear. His gaze was fixed on Chromastone, who stood before the chamber. Chromastone's hands were already gripping two of the chamber's nodes.

"This is it," Tony murmured, adjusting a final dial on the control panel. "You sure you're ready for this?"

Chromastone nodded, taking a deep breath. "I'm ready. Let's do this."

Stanford moved closer.

Hank assured the father. "Simon is in good hands."

Chromastone closed his eyes, focusing his energy inward. He could feel Simon's essence within him, the ionic energy swirling like a storm within his crystalline structure. Carefully, he began to channel that energy, guiding it toward the nodes.

The containment chamber responded immediately, its systems coming to life with a soft hum. Stanford watched in awe as Chromastone's glow intensified, the light pulsing in time with the energy transfer. Slowly but surely, Simon's mind and energy body began to coalesce within the tube, the swirling energy taking on a more defined shape.

Inside the chamber, the ionic energy began to stabilize, gradually forming into the familiar silhouette of Simon Williams. His body flickered briefly, a sign of its immense strain, but the containment chamber held steady, absorbing the wild fluctuations and stabilizing his form.

Stanford held his breath as the process neared completion. Finally, with a final surge of energy, Simon's dormant form fully emerged within the chamber. The swirling energy settled, and Simon's body appeared to be in a state of suspended animation.

Chromastone exhaled deeply, releasing the nodes and stepping back. "He's… he's in there," Chromastone said. "He's safe."

Stanford rushed forward, placing his hands on the glass of the containment chamber. "Simon… You're going to be okay. We're going to figure this out."

Tony placed a reassuring hand on Stanford's shoulder. "We'll do everything we can to help him, Mr. Williams. Hank and I have already started working on ways to stabilize his condition permanently."

Hank nodded in agreement. "It'll take time, but we won't stop until we find a solution. Simon's in good hands here."

Stanford nodded, tears of relief welling up in his eyes. "Thank you… both of you."

Meanwhile, Azmuth observed the situation within the Omnitrix. He had been monitoring the energy transfer closely, and his expression was thoughtful.

Azmuth spoke. "This situation is delicate, but I believe Simon can be fully restored. I will offer my assistance in any way I can."

Chromastone heard Azmuth's words echo in his earpiece. "Thank you."

#

Thor, Hulk, and Ben sat around a large dining table, a spread of Earthly food laid out before them. The others decided to have different dinner plans. Thor, ever the jovial eater, tore into a roasted leg, while Hulk focused on an enormous bowl of steak, and Ben casually picked at his meal.

Ben finally broke the silence, pushing his plate aside. "You know," he began, glancing at Thor, "I couldn't help but notice something when we were dealing with Simon earlier."

Thor looked up, a brow raised as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "What is it, friend Ben?"

"There was this green haze," Ben said, leaning forward. "I've seen it before when we've faced off against the Enchantress. You think she had something to do with Simon losing control?"

Thor froze for a split second, just enough for both Ben and Hulk to notice. The Asgardian cleared his throat, trying to appear nonchalant. "I… cannot deny that I sensed a familiar magic during the battle. Amora's presence was… palpable."

Hulk grunted, pausing in his meal. "What's the deal with her anyway?

Ben nodded. "Yeah. It seems personal. What happened between you two?"

Thor sighed, setting down his food and resting his arms on the table. His expression was more somber than usual, a hint of regret in his eyes. "It is a long story, but one that deserves telling, I suppose."

The Asgardian warrior took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "Before I was banished to Earth by my father, Odin, I was in a relationship with Sif. She is a fierce warrior and a loyal friend. Our bond was strong, forged in countless battles. But, as fate would have it when my father sent me to Midgard, my path diverged from hers."

He paused, recalling memories from another age. "Amora, the Enchantress, was smitten with me long before that. She is… complicated and full of desire and ambition. When she saw me with Sif, she became jealous, though she hid it well."

Ben listened intently, nodding along. "So what happened when you got to Earth?"

"While on Earth," Thor continued, "I met Jane Foster. She was unlike anyone I had known—a mortal, yes, but brave, intelligent, and kind. I was… smitten, as you say." A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "By the time I was allowed to return to Asgard, Sif and I parted on mutual terms. We knew our paths had changed, and my heart was with Jane."

Thor's face darkened slightly. "But when Amora learned of my split with Sif, she thought it was her chance. She believed I would choose her… When I told her of Jane, she was furious. Her love turned to hatred, and she has never forgiven me for choosing a mortal over her."

"Thor," Ben began, "do you hate Amora?"

Thor looked up, the question catching him off guard. He paused, considering his words carefully. Finally, he shook his head. "No, Ben, I do not hate her. Amora is… complex. She is indeed very beautiful, but I have learned that there is more to a woman than outward appearance. Beauty, while captivating, is not enough to make a person truly worthy."

Ben nodded, waiting for Thor to continue. The Asgardian prince sighed, running a hand through his long blond hair as he reflected on his past with Amora.

"There is good in her," Thor admitted with a hint of sadness. "But it is buried beneath layers of vanity and greed, traits that have twisted her heart. In many ways, she is as I was in my younger years—arrogant, reckless, and too blinded by her own desires to see the harm she causes."

He leaned back in his chair. "I can see in her the potential for something greater. Perhaps, in a few centuries from now, if she were able to change—if she could overcome her vanity and embrace the goodness within her—I might consider giving her a chance."

Thor's words hung in the air, filled with a mix of hope and melancholy. It was clear that he saw beyond Amora's flaws, recognizing the person she could become, even if she was far from it now.

Ben listened intently, respecting Thor's perspective. "You really believe she could change?"

Thor nodded slowly. "I do. People can change, Ben. It took time, humility, and pain, but I changed. If I can, so can she. But that choice must be hers and hers alone."

Ben let out a low whistle. "That's some heavy stuff, Thor. But, uh, there's something else I gotta ask. How long do Asgardians live?"

Thor looked at Ben. "We live for thousands of years. My father, Odin, is much older than I am, and still, he remains strong."

Ben and Hulk exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. Finally, Ben spoke up again. "Thor, does Jane know that?"

Thor hesitated the weight of the question hanging in the air. "I… I have not mentioned it to her," he admitted. "It did not seem important in the beginning, but now…"

Ben leaned forward. "If you want any sort of long-term relationship with Jane, she needs to know. She's gonna grow old, Thor, while you're still in your prime. That's not something you can hide from her."

Thor looked down at the table, the truth of Ben's words sinking in. He had always known, deep down, that this conversation would come. But hearing it spoken aloud made it all the more real.

"I… I suppose you are right, Ben," Thor said, finally lifting his gaze to meet his friends. "She deserves to know the truth. I only hope… she can accept it."

Hulk, who had been quietly listening, placed a large hand on Thor's shoulder. "If she loves you, she will. Be honest." Lord knows what he would give to have the same conversation with Betty.

Thor nodded, the resolve returning to his eyes. "Thank you, my friends. Your counsel is wise. I will speak to Jane, and I will face whatever comes, as I always have—with courage and honor."

The three of them sat in silence for a moment, the gravity of the situation sinking in. Then, Ben clapped his hands together, breaking the tension. "Alright, enough of the heavy stuff. Let's finish eating before Hulk clears the table!"

Wakanda

The moon hung high in the night sky, casting a silvery glow over the ceremonial grounds of Wakanda. The air was thick with tension as the people of Wakanda gathered in silence, their eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before them. The rhythmic beat of drums echoed in the distance, reverberating through the hearts of all who watched.

M'Baku, leader of the White Gorilla Tribe, stood at the center of the arena, his massive form towering above the others. His voice boomed across the grounds, filled with challenge and anticipation. "Face me! Come, Black Panther, and face the Man-Ape!"

Seated on the ornate throne was King T'Chaka Udaku, the current Black Panther. He was dressed in his traditional royal attire. By his side stood his family: Queen Ramonda; Princess Shuri; and Prince T'Challa, as he looked upon his father.

T'Chaka rose from his throne. One of the Dora Milaje stepped forward, silently removing the king's cape with a fluid motion, revealing the powerful physique of a seasoned warrior.

T'Challa stepped forward. "Father, please. Do not do this."

T'Chaka turned to his son. "It is the law, my son. This is how the kings of Wakanda have chosen to rule. This is how it was written, and we will respect it."

"But the White Gorilla tribe, they cannot claim what is ours," T'Challa argued.

The shaman, standing nearby, spoke in a voice that carried the weight of tradition. "M'Baku has made a challenge to the throne of Wakanda. It is your father's duty as king and Black Panther to meet it."

T'Challa's concern deepened. "Father, if you lose, you know what he will do to this country."

T'Chaka's eyes softened as he looked at his son. "And that is why I will not lose. Our family has protected Wakanda and its treasures for generations. The Black Panther's reign will not end on this day."

Before stepping into the arena, T'Chaka turned to his wife and daughter.

Ramonda met his gaze. "Do well, my love."

T'Chaka took her hand, pressing it to his lips. "I will, and if I don't, just know that I will always love you and our children."

Ramonda nodded, tears threatening to spill as they shared a tender kiss. T'Chaka then knelt before Shuri, who looked up at him with tear-filled eyes.

"Baba, do you have to do this?" she asked.

T'Chaka's expression softened further as he placed a hand on her cheek. "I do, Shuri. Just like I told your brother, it is the law. That is the way it's always been."

Shuri couldn't hold back her tears as she hugged her father tightly. "I love you, baba."

T'Chaka hugged her back, his voice filled with warmth and pride. "I love you too, Shuri." He kissed the top of her head, lingering for just a moment before pulling away.

As T'Chaka descended the steps toward the arena, Ramonda held Shuri close, whispering words of comfort as the first drops of rain began to fall, quickly turning into a steady downpour.

Facing M'Baku, T'Chaka's voice carried through the rain. "Turn back, M'Baku. There is no shame."

M'Baku's eyes blazed with determination as he pounded his chest. "I have been waiting for this moment for years, T'Chaka. The White Gorilla tribe has been ignored for centuries. No longer!" With a thunderous roar, M'Baku charged at T'Chaka, his fists raised to strike.

But T'Chaka was ready. With the agility and grace that came from years of experience, he executed a flawless front flip, evading M'Baku's double-fisted attack and landing several feet away. M'Baku charged again, his powerful fists swinging in rapid succession—a left cross, a right cross, a strike to the head, another right cross, and a final downward strike. Each blow was dodged with precision, T'Chaka moving back with each attack.

The storm intensified as the thunder roared in the sky. T'Chaka seized the moment, leaping toward M'Baku and driving his knee into the Man-Ape's face. M'Baku roared in a fury, charging once more with a wild swing, but T'Chaka ducked under the blow and backflipped away, his movements swift and calculated.

T'Chaka then dashed toward M'Baku, targeting a vital spot under his arm with a precise strike. M'Baku grunted in pain as T'Chaka followed up with an uppercut to his stomach, followed by a right cross to his face. Without hesitation, T'Chaka leaped into the air, delivering a powerful kick to M'Baku's face with his left foot, spinning him around.

The final blow came as T'Chaka executed a roundhouse kick, followed by a spinning 180 kick that connected with M'Baku's face. The force of the impact sent the Man-Ape crashing to the ground, where he lay on his back, dazed.

"It was a mistake to come here, M'Baku. The White Gorilla tribe was exiled long ago. Your mere existence is forbidden. But still, I have respected you and your lands," T'Chaka declared. As he spoke, a small device emerged aimed directly at T'Chaka. "This is how you repay me?"

M'Baku's expression twisted into a dark smile. "No, Panther. This is."

Suddenly, a piercing screech erupted from the device, a sound so sharp and agonizing that only T'Chaka could hear it. He cried out in pain, his hands flying to his ears as he dropped to his knees, writhing under the assault. M'Baku seized the moment, rising to his feet with a victorious grin.

Ramonda and her children looked on in horror, their hearts pounding as they watched T'Chaka suffer. M'Baku's smile grew wider, savoring the sight of the mighty Black Panther brought low. He approached T'Chaka, who was still struggling to stand, and with a savage kick, sent him sprawling several feet away.

T'Chaka, weakened by the sonic attack, struggled to rise. M'Baku moved in with deliberate slowness, enjoying every second of his triumph. He delivered a crushing punch to T'Chaka's face, the force of the blow sending him sliding back across the wet ground. The impact knocked the Black Panther's mask off, shattering it as it hit the Earth.

"Father!" T'Challa's voice rang out, filled with desperation. He tried to rush forward, but one of the Dora Milaje grabbed his wrist, holding him back. "Let me go! We have to help him!"

The shaman stepped in front of T'Challa, blocking his path. "No. We cannot. This is the law."

In the arena, M'Baku roared in triumph, gripping T'Chaka's head with his massive hand and lifting him off the ground. The shaman's voice was solemn as he continued, "Your father respects it, and so must you."

T'Challa bowed his head, tears mixing with the rain that streamed down his face. He watched helplessly as M'Baku released his father, only to strike him again with a powerful right cross while he was still in the air. The blow sent T'Chaka crashing to the ground.

T'Chaka struggled to stand. His vision blurred as the sonic weapon's screeching noise began again, tearing through his mind. He fell to his knees.

M'Baku loomed over him. "So arrogant, T'Chaka. That is your downfall. I never wanted your respect. Can you hear me?" T'Chaka, barely conscious, looked up at M'Baku. "I wanted your hide."

With a final, devastating uppercut, M'Baku sent T'Chaka flying backward. Ramonda and Shuri screamed in anguish, their hearts breaking as they saw T'Chaka land heavily on his back. T'Challa, overcome with grief, could only watch as his father took his last, shuddering breath.

M'Baku roared in victory. "Bow to your new king! Bow to M'Baku, the Man-Ape!"

The people of Wakanda, their spirits crushed, slowly knelt before him. The sight was too much for T'Challa, who felt a mix of sorrow and rage boiling within him. M'Baku's gaze met his, the conqueror's eyes filled with malice and satisfaction.

Unable to bear it any longer, T'Challa turned and ran, tears streaming down his face as he left behind his mother and sister, who watched him go with worried eyes. The rain continued to pour as if the very heavens wept for the fallen king.

Canada

Nightfall cloaked the mountains in darkness as Steve Rogers made his move. He had spent hours watching the guards' patrol patterns, noting the timings and gaps. With the cover of night, he knew this was his best chance to infiltrate the facility.

Steve approached the compound from the east, where the terrain was rougher and less patrolled. He used the natural cover of rocks and trees to avoid detection. The cold air stung his lungs, but he pushed the discomfort aside.

As he neared the perimeter, he spotted a section of the fence partially obscured by a dense thicket of trees. The cameras were positioned to cover most of the area, but there was a narrow blind spot where the foliage provided temporary cover. Steve waited for the camera to sweep past before darting forward, reaching the fence in a matter of seconds.

He used a survival knife to create an opening. The sound of the metal snapping was barely audible over the wind. Once he had a gap large enough to slip through, he paused to ensure no guards were nearby. Seeing the coast was clear, he squeezed through and pressed himself flat against the ground on the other side.

Steve crawled towards the nearest building, staying low to avoid the sweeping beams of light from the guard towers. He reached a shadowy corner and took a moment to assess his surroundings. The central building, which he had identified as the hub, was still some distance away, and he needed a way to get closer without triggering any alarms.

His eyes fell on a maintenance hatch near the base of the building he was hiding behind. It was small, likely for access to utility lines or ventilation shafts, but it could serve as an entry point. Steve pried it open and slipped inside, finding himself in a narrow crawlspace filled with pipes and wires. The air was damp and musty, but it provided a concealed path into the heart of the facility.

Navigating through the tight space, Steve moved carefully, listening for any signs of activity above. The crawlspace led him to an access panel inside the main building. He pushed it open slowly, peering out into an empty corridor. The fluorescent lights flickered slightly, casting an eerie glow on the metal walls.

Steve exited the crawlspace and silently closed the panel behind him. He stuck to the shadows and avoided the main thoroughfares.

His footsteps barely made a sound on the cold, metallic floor. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic. The place was a maze of steel and concrete, designed to keep things in, not out.

As he rounded a corner, he spotted a pair of guards standing outside a door. They were armed, but they weren't expecting trouble. Moving quickly, Steve slipped into the shadows and approached from behind. He grabbed the first guard by the neck, applying just enough pressure to knock him out. The second guard barely had time to react before Steve's fist connected with his jaw, sending him crumpling to the floor.

Steve dragged their unconscious bodies into a nearby storage room, ensuring they wouldn't be discovered anytime soon. He then turned his attention to the door they had been guarding. It led to a small surveillance room filled with screens displaying live feeds from various parts of the facility. Steve's eyes scanned the monitors, taking in the array of rooms and corridors.

His gaze finally landed on a screen that showed a large room. There, suspended in a tube, was James. Just as Steve was about to leave the surveillance room, something else caught his eye.

In the corner of the wall of screens was a white room. The room itself was bare, save for a young girl in cuffs being led inside. The soldier grits his teeth. What were these monsters up to?

#

The young girl was woken up and led to another room by several guards as she was bound in restraints. The fluorescent lights above hummed quietly. Her expression was unreadable.

High above, behind reinforced glass, Professor Thorton observed the most promising specimen. He adjusted a dial on the control panel in front of him. His gaze remained fixed on the young girl below, scrutinizing her every movement.

"X-23, begin the test," he ordered.

With a loud hiss, a heavy door on the far side of the room slid open. From the darkness beyond, the sound of guttural growls and shuffling footsteps filled the air. The first creature emerged, its pale, monstrous form unmistakably reminiscent of the Wendigo. Its eyes glowed with a feral hunger as it snarled, revealing rows of sharp teeth. Behind it, more creatures followed, their numbers swelling as they crowded into the chamber, their focus locked on the lone figure in the center.

X-23 remained still, her small hands clenched into fists at her sides. There was no fear in her eyes, only a cold, determined focus. She had been trained for this, conditioned to face whatever horror was thrown her way.

The creatures hesitated for only a moment before they charged, their growls turning into deafening roars as they closed the distance. X-23 moved in a blur, her instincts taking over. With a swift motion, two gleaming adamantium claws extended from her forearms, slicing through the air as she leaped at the nearest Wendigo-like beast.

The first creature fell, its throat slashed open by her claws. Blood sprayed across the chamber, but there was no time to pause. Another creature lunged at her, its massive hands swinging down to crush her. She ducked and rolled, narrowly avoiding the strike, then drove her claws deep into its side, tearing through muscle and bone.

Despite her skill and speed, the numbers were overwhelming. The creatures swarmed her, their claws and teeth ripping into her flesh. X-23 fought back with everything she had. She slashed, stabbed, and tore through the horde, each strike precise and lethal. But for every creature she brought down, two more seemed to take its place.

Blood soaked the chamber floor, both hers and the creatures'. Her breaths came in ragged gasps as she fought against the tide. One of the beasts managed to clamp its jaws around her arm, its teeth sinking deep into her flesh. With a scream of rage, she wrenched her arm free, severing the creature's head with a brutal slash.

The relentless assault had taken its toll. Her body was small and not fully developed. The wounds she sustained began to accumulate, slowing her movements and sapping her strength. Still, she fought with a will to survive.

Finally, the last of the creatures fell, its body crumpling to the floor with a sickening thud. X-23 stood in the center of the carnage. Blood dripped from her claws, her body covered in cuts and bruises. She took a step forward, but her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the floor, gasping for air.

Above, Professor Thorton watched impassively as the girl lay amidst the remains of the creatures. Her wounds, though grievous, began to heal rapidly, the torn flesh knitting itself back together with astonishing speed. The sight brought a twisted smile to his lips. "Impressive," he murmured to himself. "The secondary Wendigo infected will serve as excellent training partners. She's stronger than expected."

He leaned closer to the glass, watching as X-23 slowly pushed herself up, her eyes burning fierce despite the agony. "Yes, she'll do just fine."

As the chamber doors opened once more and medical personnel rushed in to retrieve the girl, Professor Thorton turned away, already thinking of the next test, the next trial. There was much more to be done before X-23 could become the weapon they desired. Perhaps the Wendigo infection can be further hybridized.

#

Steve smashed a nearby desk. He had seen enough. They were creating living weapons here. This place was likely the reason why James didn't remember him. Now, seeing that girl, it was clear she was related to James by blood in some way. She was trained as a weapon like James was probably put through. He wasn't having that. Steve quickly studied the layout on the monitors, mapping out the quickest route to both Logan and the girl. He couldn't just abandon a child in this place, let alone James's potential family.

AN: Special thanks to Seana, Jebest4781, Charles, vividlearner744, OmegaDelta, Henry Stickman, fearmegu, Kitsune Robyn, Salo Guzman, Traiton Moses, SonicSonicsSonic, KA012, and Monkey!

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