Real-World Combat Test

The meeting lasted an unbelievable full five hours before finally ending. Michael had barely risen to his feet when Elizabeth promptly handed him his suit jacket.

Michael raised his arms for her to help him into it. "Other than the mayor's party this weekend, there's nothing else, right?"

"Hammer Tech's CEO has requested a meeting tomorrow evening. What do you think?"

"Hammer Tech? The one whose former CEO went to prison two years ago, the Hammer Tech that's practically finished?"

"That's the one."

"Make up an excuse and turn them down. I don't have time." Michael straightened his collar. "It's getting late. If there's nothing else, you can head home first."

Elizabeth nodded. "All right, sir. I'll notify you if anything else comes up. Good night."

"Good night."

Leaving the conference room, Michael crossed the corridor and entered the encrypted elevator that went directly to his office. It carried him up to the office on the top floor of the building. He then strode straight across the room to the innermost wall. A thin seam appeared out of nowhere in the flawless, smooth surface, then slowly and heavily slid apart to either side like a massive automatic door.

Michael strode inside, and the wall closed behind him. Its surface was once again as smooth as a mirror.

No one entering his office could possibly find this entrance, because it was not a hidden door activated by some mechanism, but magic—a spell. Beyond the wall was a direct magical passage to the private laboratory beneath his private residence more than twenty miles away. Only the spell he had set himself could activate this magical hidden door.

"Welcome back." A pleasant electronic female voice sounded the instant he entered the laboratory, seeming to come from every corner of the room. "Another boring, drawn-out meeting?"

Michael walked straight toward the workbench. The black-and-white armor lay disassembled across it, while several mechanical arms busily modified it.

"I suspect those people are plotting to slowly murder me with boredom." Michael stopped beside the workbench and watched a mechanical arm drill sparks from the armor's ankle. "How's the progress, Sherry?"

Sherry was an artificial intelligence Michael had developed himself. AI technology in the Marvel Universe was also far ahead of the world Michael had come from before crossing over. Representative AIs included Iron Man's intelligent butler Jarvis, as well as the super artificial intelligence Ultron, who had yet to be born.

Artificial intelligence provided considerable assistance in an armor's real-time combat and analytical capabilities. Early after crossing over, Michael had spent some time with Hydra, an international terrorist organization. He had specifically paid attention to knowledge in this area then. He had started developing artificial intelligence even before leaving the organization, and Sherry was his finest work.

"It's eighty percent complete, sir," Sherry replied. "Including the paint job, it should be finished within an hour. Would you like to take it out for a spin?"

"Sounds good. Make sure it's fully charged and equipped with combat weapons. I'm going straight into a real-world combat test."

"Combat?" There was a trace of confusion in the AI's voice. "Against whom, sir?"

Michael did not answer. He picked up an already modified armored glove from the workbench. After recognizing him, the glove sprang open down the middle and wrapped around his hand.

He clenched his gloved fist and said, "It's been three years. We've hidden long enough. Now... it's about time to strike back."

Late at night, somewhere classified.

Rows of white lights shone through the black night, bathing a massive steel facility in brilliance. Military SUVs moved through the open plaza before the building, while futuristic jet fighters took off and landed on the airfield. It was every bit a heavily guarded military fortress.

In the central control room, S.H.I.E.L.D. Level Six Agent Randall Mallory stood before a gigantic suspended screen over fifteen feet high, directing the operations and deployment of the entire base. Rapid keyboard tapping and the clattering of mechanical cipher machines echoed through the sealed room as intelligence officers wearing headsets worked tirelessly at their stations.

"Sir!" A communications officer looked up and shouted. "An unidentified flying object is heading our way! It's moving fast and coming straight at us!"

Randall Mallory became alert. "What is it?"

"Unknown. We've run a full comparison against the known database and found no match."

"Have you tried contacting it?"

"We did, sir. No response."

"Sir!" another communications officer shouted. "That thing... it vanished from surveillance!"

A streak through the air seemed to emerge from nowhere, descending vertically with pale blue exhaust flames blasting downward. The black armor landed in the middle of the plaza with a crisp clang, while faint transparent shockwaves spread from beneath its feet.

Everyone in the plaza stopped what they were doing. Many agents reflexively drew their weapons at once and aimed them at the black intruder.

"You have entered a US Military command center. Disarm immediately and identify yourself, or we will use lethal force."

The clear announcement played over and over through the loudspeakers, echoing across the suddenly silent open ground. Dozens of dark gun barrels were trained on the intruder. Any suspicious movement would bring a storm of bullets down upon him.

The black armor slowly raised its head. Pale blue light rippled within its V-shaped visor.

He did not answer. Or rather, he answered with action. Without a word, he raised a hand and fired a powerful blue pulse beam from his palm, blasting the agents directly in front of him off their feet.

The battle erupted in an instant. Every gun muzzle flashed at once, and over a hundred bullets struck the pitch-black armor in showers of sparks. The black armor did not move an inch amid the crisscrossing fire. Thruster flames blasted downward from its back, lifting it into the air. From above, it fired pulse beams from alternating palms, throwing the entire plaza into chaos.

The Quinjets on the airfield powered up. Their futuristic anti-gravity systems allowed them to rise vertically into the air, and large-caliber rounds poured from the guns mounted beneath their wings. Thrusters fired from the black armor's waist and back simultaneously, carrying it nimbly through the rain of bullets. It raised a hand and fired two quick shots, sending two Quinjets spiraling down in black smoke.

"Sir, a unit of armored vehicles equipped with Electromagnetic Cannons is at your three o'clock," Sherry's voice sounded inside the helmet. "I thought you might want to know."

"Thanks for the heads-up. Could you mark them on my display?" Michael said, shooting down another Quinjet at the same time.

Metal shells roared down their rails, trailing countless shrieking arcs of electricity. Wrapped in deep blue currents, the electromagnetic shells charged straight at Michael in midair like roaring azure dragons.

But Michael neither dodged nor evaded. He merely raised his palm calmly, and a flame-colored Magic Circle flashed open before it. One after another, the thunderous electromagnetic shells vanished into the Magic Circle like stones sinking into the sea. Michael turned his palm over, and the intricate patterns on the Magic Circle changed. The shells that had just entered shot back out at undiminished speed, trailing long streams of raging electricity as they flew back along their original path.

Several consecutive shells tore through the armored vehicles' hulls with crushing force. Their shattered bodies flipped through the air as flames erupted violently, sending fragments of metal and tires flying in every direction.

In barely three minutes, every resisting force in the massive base had been completely wiped out. The pitch-black armor advanced with steady steps, its steel form cutting through the burning curtain of fire like a Terminator.

No one could stop his advance, and no weapon could bring him down. The base's emergency security protocols had been activated. The central command room was protected by layers of reinforced blast doors, the automated defense systems were active, and every corridor had been filled with deadly traps.

At the same time, an emergency request for assistance had been sent to S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters. Headquarters replied that reinforcements could arrive within five minutes. But Agent Randall, who was in charge, knew they probably would not last that long.

"Sir!" A communications officer in the control room was drenched in sweat. "The first line of defense has been breached!"

"The laser grid has been breached! The second line of defense has also been breached!"

Agent Randall felt a chill run down his spine. Through the displays in the command room, he could clearly see that black steel armor. He could not help thinking of someone—someone he had only heard of, but who was incomparably dangerous.

Heavy thuds kept drawing closer to their position, each one heavier than the last as the distance shrank. He felt like a turtle curled inside its shell, fully aware that a deadly venomous python was slithering outside.

Boom!

Two door panels weighing over a ton each flew into the command room as though struck by immense force from outside, like concealed weapons. The steel figure stepped through the thick smoke, its V-shaped visor illuminating the motes of dust swirling in the air.

The agents waiting there drew their guns and fired without a second thought—though it was quickly proven futile. Michael raised a hand and formed a Magic Circle in his palm. Seven or eight Magic Flying Daggers appeared out of thin air, each locking onto its own target at their master's command. In the blink of an eye, every agent in the command room was struck and fell—except Agent Randall. Pale-faced, he stood on the control room platform with his back against the railing, scarcely daring to breathe.

Michael ignored him, as though he had not even noticed there was still a living person in the room. He walked directly to the console and spread the fingers of his right hand toward the main computer. A Connector Cable extended from his palm and plugged into the computer. Massive amounts of data passed through that thin cable in an instant, while classified files flickered across the monitor like flashing screens.

"Transfer complete. All data has been backed up," Sherry said.

Michael retracted the Connector Cable, then slowly turned to look at Agent Randall on the platform. The instant Randall felt that gaze, his body jolted, and he nearly toppled backward from the height.

Flames burst from Michael's back as he flew up to the same height as the pale-faced agent. Agent Randall's legs went weak, and he dropped onto the floor with his back against the railing.

His throat was dry, as though black smoke might rise from it. He heard a warped voice emerge from his own mouth, one he could barely recognize. "D-Dr. Norton?"

"Pass a message to your boss. Tell them this is only the beginning." The mechanical, icy voice came from beneath the black mask through its speakers. "You know I'm not talking about Fury, just as you and I both know you are not actually an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D."

With that, he did not linger. Two long trails of flame burst from his back with a whoosh, and his body vanished along the way he had come like an arrow of steel.