New Project

After over half a year of busy affairs, the establishment of S.W.O.R.D. had finally been completed in its initial stages, with all levels of the organization's systems and structures now able to operate on their own. This also meant Michael could finally allocate more time to his "hobbies."

Michael stood amidst the wraparound holographic projection equipment in his private lab, swiping his hand to open a transparent screen suspended in midair. The project indexed as "Armor" unfolded before him, with complete data on every suit he had built to date stored in separate folders, arranged by serial number within the project.

Michael deftly tapped a few points on the interface, then said aloud, "Sherry, are you there?"

"Of course, sir. What do you need?"

"Create a new project file. We're about to have a new friend."

"Understood, sir. Ready for another upgrade?" Sherry said as files flashed rapidly across the screen, completing the project setup. "What title would you like for the new project?"

"Just X-06." Michael opened the project file indexed as "X-05," which held the data on the White Black Armor he currently wore. "Also, copy the full dataset from 'X-05' right after creation. We'll modify the old model directly."

"Got it, sir."

Michael walked over to the workbench, where Sherry had already intelligently fed the data into the bench's built-in projection system, displaying a 3D file image on the surface. He tapped the "Armor Structure" option, and a miniature, transparent exploded view of the armor appeared at the center of the table.

Michael circled the bench halfway, thought for a moment, then reached out and erased a layer of armor from the torso area. He studied it with his chin in hand, then deleted sections from the gauntlets, legs, and other parts.

After a series of additions and removals, the suit—already designed for mobility—had shed a significant amount of weight. But its defense had inevitably been weakened again, to the point where a direct hit from an anti-tank round might be problematic.

Sherry clearly noticed the issue. "Sir, I must remind you that while these modifications will grant greater speed and mobility, the defensive capability has been reduced to a minimum. For your safety, I strongly advise against adopting these changes."

"You have a point." Michael nodded. "That's why we need this."

He formed a hand seal, and with a stretch of his right hand, a faint golden magic circle materialized on the table. He slowly raised his arm, and the circle rose inch by inch with his movement, leaving behind a cylindrical glass container on the workbench. A deep blue substance was sealed airtight inside, emitting a faint blue glow.

Sherry scanned the substance's structure using the lab's cameras.

"Vibranium, sir?" she asked.

"One of Strucker's old subordinates has some connections with Ulysses Klaue, the black-market arms dealer." Michael picked up the small vial of Vibranium and circled the bench halfway. "Klaue is the only smuggler of Vibranium in the world. He said he paid a heavy price to get this, so his price isn't cheap. This little bottle cost me several billion."

"But you don't lack those billions, do you?"

"Maybe." Michael shrugged.

"So, you intend to use Vibranium to build this new suit?"

"Not yet." Michael set the Vibranium back on the table. "First, we need to study this small sample and gather as much data as possible. Also, I don't plan to make the armor from pure Vibranium. As far as I know, while it's the hardest metal on Earth, it has one fatal weakness—sonic waves. I won't put it into practice until we find a way to fix that flaw."

"Perhaps a composite material could correct the defect?" Sherry suggested.

"Good girl, you almost make me proud." Michael smiled faintly. "That's what I'm planning too. So you can start now—scan and collect data on this Vibranium sample, build a model, and then mix it with various known materials in different ratios to see the results."

"Understood, sir. Engineering established, experimental data logging automatically." As Sherry spoke, several green scanning beams illuminated the small vial, beginning a slow top-to-bottom scan.

"Also, sir, a S.W.O.R.D. special operations team reported capturing an unidentified enhanced individual, now transferred to the New Jersey branch." Sherry paused, then added, "With the assistance of Miss Maximoff and Sergeant Barnes."

"Sounds like they worked together well enough."

"Do you wish to confirm in person?"

Michael glanced at the full scan of the Vibranium on the workbench.

"Not like I have anything else to do right now." Michael shrugged. "Prepare a suit for me. Continue operations while I'm away. Once data collection is complete, start the composite metal simulation tests directly."

"Understood."

Minutes later, the black armor landed vertically on the rooftop of the New Jersey S.W.O.R.D. branch, trailing two jets of exhaust flame. The branch director, who had been waiting at the landing site, squinted against the gust of air stirred up by the suit's descent.

The director saluted Michael as formally as possible. Michael strode past him, his voice modulated by the suit, and asked, "You caught an enhanced individual?"

"Yes, just transferred here." The director hurried to lead the way. "Our experts are collecting samples, trying to confirm his identity through genetic matching. Results should be coming in soon."

Michael followed him through several security doors into a biological lab deep within the base. The captured superhuman was imprisoned in a cylindrical glass container, his body covered in black scales, sharp black hair drifting slowly in the bubbling liquid. His pallid face looked like it belonged to a zombie.

The lab's lead doctor stepped forward, saluted, and reported, "This sample is very strange. Part of his genes appears damaged—I've never seen a defect like this before. Also, the armor on his body seems implanted into his skin, with the central nervous system directly grafted into his spinal column. We can't remove it."

"You're saying it's illegal bio-modification," Michael said.

"Yes, sir. He's not just an enhanced individual; he's been deliberately modified—that's certain." The doctor adjusted his glasses, flipping through his report with some confusion. "As for his identity... it's odd. We ran a genetic match and found the closest hit in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s 'Special Abilities Registry,' with a match rate of 92.35%."

Michael raised an eyebrow beneath his helmet. "92.35%?"

He wasn't an expert in genetic engineering, but even he knew how rare that was. Genetic matches were either perfect or a complete mismatch. A 92.35% match was almost impossible from a conventional medical standpoint.

Unless the subject was a clone.

Before S.H.I.E.L.D. collapsed, they maintained a "Special Abilities Registry" to archive and monitor the personal data of various extraordinary individuals worldwide. S.W.O.R.D. had access to most of Hydra's top-secret files, and since Hydra had been intertwined with S.H.I.E.L.D. for so many years, they naturally had a copy of that list.

Except some entries—classified as Level 10 by Fury himself—had significant gaps in the copy.

"So, who is this 92.35% match?" Michael had a rough idea, but he needed confirmation.

"The data in the registry is incomplete. We could only find a name—Peter Parker." The doctor adjusted his glasses again. "But we haven't figured out who this Peter Parker is."

"Thanks for your efforts, Doctor, but I'll take over from here." Michael cut him off flatly, turning to leave. "You all keep studying the sample. Report any other findings directly to me. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."