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Marvel: The Journey

What happens when a man is allowed to ask for anything he wants and all he replies is - "Nothing!" How would he survive in the Marvel universe without any cheats, without any system, without any... help? While others clamor for cheats, powers, systems, etc. Valexis Haller embraces the chaos with only his peak human intelligence to guide him. Follow along on his story of determination and the will to succeed against all odds. ======= Bonus Chapter Schedule : 100 power stones - 1 bonus chapter 250 power stones - 2 bonus chapters 500 power stones - 3 bonus chapters  1000 power stones - 4 bonus chapters ============= Check out my Patreon if you want to read ahead. patreon.com/aidenusmani ========= Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership over any of the Marvel characters appearing in this novel, which has been created solely as a work of fan fiction. I must clarify that the cover art featured in this publication is the property of its original creators and all associated rights remain with them.

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249 Chs

[World War II] - Operation Watchtower - Henderson Field

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Ian quickly shook off the reckless thoughts racing through his mind. "Woah," he muttered to himself. "That kind of thinking is dangerous." Despite the adrenaline pumping through his veins, Ian knew better than to let his guard down. "This isn't a game of Call of Duty," he reminded himself. "One wrong move, and it could be game over."

Ian watched intently as the flames gradually died down, the acrid smell of smoke still lingering in the air. Carefully picking through the charred debris, he eventually came across a cache of Japanese food supplies. Without a second thought, he quickly scooped up the provisions and headed back outside.

But as he emerged from the base, he was met with an unexpected sight: two U.S. soldiers. Ian's mind raced as he tried to make sense of the situation. 'Wolverine and Sabertooth,' he thought to himself, referencing the two X-Men characters. 'This is some sort of alternate universe with the MCU, X-Men, and Inhumans. Who knows who else from the comics might show up?', He paused, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. 'And since Wolverine is Hugh Jackman in this universe, then it must also be the X-Men Cinematic Universe,' he reasoned.

The sheer complexity of it all left him feeling frustrated and overwhelmed, and he couldn't help but groan softly as he continued sifting through the supplies. But then, a small glimmer of hope: he spotted some chamomile tea leaves and ginger, which would provide some much-needed relief for his ailing stomach.

As Ian rummaged through the stolen supplies, he felt a sudden presence looming behind him. He turned to find Victor, a twisted smile on his lips, approaching him with an unsettling air of excitement.

"I saw what you did back there," Victor said, his voice dripping with perverse delight. "You took them down like they were nothing but insects. It was extremely violent and bloodthirsty."

Ian glanced at him, unsure of how to react to Victor's manic energy. "You like it?" he asked cautiously.

"I love it!" Victor's maniacal laughter echoed through the air, revealing his razor-sharp fangs. "Listen, kid. You've got potential. Embrace it! Let yourself be consumed by it. Experience the thrill of taking lives. Give in to that excitement and savor the pleasure it brings."

But James intervened, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Do not be swayed by his words, kid," he warned sternly. "It is crucial that you maintain control of yourself and never give in to the temptation of such pleasure. Trust me, it is a never-ending abyss that will only lead to your downfall."

Ian took a moment to survey the contrasting personalities of James and Victor. The former displayed an impressive level of self-control and only resorted to violence when necessary. Victor, on the other hand, reveled in his primal nature and had no qualms about taking the lives of others.

As Ian stood up, he couldn't help but feel exasperated by their strange behavior. "I don't see what's so unusual," he remarked dryly. "I was simply carrying out my orders, doing what needed to be done to eliminate the Japanese threat and secure the airfield." He suppressed a smile at their confused expressions. "Is something the matter?" he asked, affecting innocence.

Their conversation was interrupted by the sight of bombers flying overhead, dropping bombs, and leaving the trio to observe in silence.

* BOOM *

* BOOM *

* BOOM *

The ground shook beneath their feet. Quickly reloading his rifle, he turned to James and Victor and spoke in a commanding voice, "We must move forward and join the fight against the Japanese."

With no time to waste, the trio rushed ahead, as they navigated through the trees toward the source of the commotion. As they emerged from cover, they could see the U.S. soldiers locked in combat with the enemy. Ian took position behind a nearby tree and began firing his rifle relentlessly at the enemy soldiers.

In the heat of the moment, there was no time for conversation or idle chit-chat. Each second counted as they fought to keep themselves and their fellow soldiers alive. The sound of gunfire and explosions filled the air as the battle raged on.

* BANG *

* BANG *

* BANG *

The outnumbered Japanese fell quickly as the other U.S. soldiers looked at Ian with awe and respect. Ian put his rifle down as he checked the surroundings and found not a single Japanese soldier left.

As Ian scanned the group of soldiers, he noticed that they were all Privates, lacking any higher-ranking officers. Turning to the two brothers beside him, he asked, "I don't believe I caught your names."

With a quick introduction, James and Victor became known to Ian, and he grinned in response. He then pivoted towards the troops, raising his voice to issue orders. "Privates, move out! Follow my lead and keep pushing forward! Let's go, let's go!"

With his heart racing and adrenaline pumping, Ian charged forward toward the enemy lines, urging his fellow soldiers to follow his lead. As a Corporal, he knew the importance of setting an example and taking charge during battle. His bravery and determination inspired the other soldiers to follow him without hesitation, each of them ready to fight for their country and overcome the enemy.

It was a sultry summer evening on the Guadalcanal airfield, and the atmosphere was rife with jubilation. A sea of men, numbering in the hundreds, clutched cups brimming with sake, their boisterous laughter ringing out across the tarmac. These men were the Japanese construction troops, tasked with the vital job of building the airfield. Yet, as they drank and jeered, they couldn't resist indulging in some good old-fashioned enemy-bashing. After all, the Allied countries were their sworn foes, and the sake only made their animosity grow stronger.

But the next morning, August 7, the airfield was a vastly different scene. Instead of rowdy revelry, there was only deathly silence. The very same men who had been drowning in sake were now lying motionless on the ground, bullet-ridden and lifeless. A gruesome sight greeted those who stumbled upon the massacre. The once-jovial soldiers were now grotesque corpses, some piled haphazardly atop others.

Ian took a deep breath and surveyed his surroundings, his eyes falling upon the grisly sight of fallen U.S. soldiers littering the ground. The memory of the intense battle from a few hours ago came flooding back to him - it had been a brutal and harrowing experience, despite the American forces' numerical advantage over the Japanese.

The work on the airfield began quickly after they captured it from the Japanese, mainly using their equipment. By August 12, the airfield was named Henderson Field. The captured airfield was named Henderson Field in honor of United States Marine Corps Major Lofton Henderson, commanding officer of VMSB-241 who was killed in the Battle Of Midway while leading his squadron against the Japanese carrier forces; he was the first Marine aviator to perish during that battle.

Ian leaned back on his camp chair, relishing the comforting warmth of the chamomile tea he had brewed. He glanced over at James, who was chomping down on a hunk of bread and couldn't help but ask the question that had been weighing on his mind. "Feeling okay?" he inquired, voice laced with concern. "No nausea, stomach pain, weakness, or anything like that?"

James looked at him quizzically, momentarily pausing in his bread-munching. "Uh, nope," he replied, gulping down some water to soothe his parched throat. "Why do you ask? Is everything okay?"

Ian heaved a sigh and shook his head, grim-faced. "I wish I could say yes, but the truth is, most of the troops here are feeling pretty lousy. Stomach pain, nausea, weakness – it's all pretty common. I think dysentery has taken hold of some of them."

Victor, who had been lounging nearby and overhearing their conversation, let out a boisterous laugh. "Don't worry about all that," he chimed in, grinning ear to ear. "We've got nothing to fear."

Ian arched an eyebrow, skepticism writ large on his face. "Really?" he asked, his tone dubious.

"Absolutely!" Victor exclaimed, nodding emphatically. "Because we are—" He trailed off, abruptly silenced by the withering glare James was leveling at him. Victor's smile faltered, but he couldn't help feeling a little amused at the sudden shift in James' mood.

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