Marcus watched in satisfaction as Ant-Man collapsed to the ground, clutching his face and writhing in agony. The once-gigantic hero was shrinking rapidly, his massive frame compressing back to human size.
'This battlefield is in good hands with Killian,' Marcus thought coldly, his eyes narrowing. 'Now, the priority is the Fantastic Four.'
Just as he prepared to move toward the center of the mist, Winter Soldier's voice echoed through the psychic link shared by Marcus and his infected lieutenants.
Winter Soldier: Commander, Sandman has captured Black Widow.
Marcus: Excellent. I can confirm that Killian has taken down Ant-Man as well.
Winter Soldier: Understood, sir. But there's something strange happening. The enemy's lower-route heroes—Captain America and his team—have suddenly stopped searching for Scarlet Witch. They're retreating with the remaining troops toward the evacuation point. That doesn't sound like them.
Marcus: (frowning) Indeed. Captain America isn't the kind of man to give up easily. There's more to this.
Winter Soldier: Also, a new convoy has landed—heavily armored transport trucks. They're carrying something large. Whatever it is, it's important to their next move.
Marcus: (chuckling) So that's their plan. I think I know what gift they're bringing us. Keep your forces intercepting Rogers' unit. I'll deal with the Fantastic Four myself.
Winter Soldier: Understood.
---
Meanwhile, Mr. Fantastic, Invisible Woman, and The Thing were advancing steadily toward the dense, pulsing mist that shrouded District D—the suspected origin of the infection.
A monstrous Extremis Thunderbeast roared and charged at them, shaking the ground with every thunderous step. Its massive body hurtled toward them like a runaway train—
—and stopped dead in its tracks.
The air shimmered with invisible force, the creature's momentum crashing against an unseen wall. Invisible Woman's invisible barrier held firm, the monster's claws scraping uselessly against the air.
"Now's my turn!" The Thing growled, rolling his shoulders. His rocky fists clenched with a sound like grinding boulders. He leapt high—one, two stories into the air—and brought his massive fists crashing down on the creature's skull.
The impact was cataclysmic. The Thunderbeast's thick carapace cracked and splintered, its head collapsing under the sheer force. A geyser of glowing orange bio-fluid erupted upward as the beast collapsed.
The creature convulsed once, then began to glow from within. Its Extremis core went critical. The three heroes had only seconds before the monster detonated.
When the explosion came, it was blinding—a mushroom cloud of orange fire consumed the street.
But when the flames cleared, the Fantastic Four stood unharmed within Invisible Woman's glowing blue barrier. Her energy field had held perfectly, not even a particle of ash touching them.
As the shield dissipated, dark figures darted from the smoke—Chasers, fast and vicious, their claws gleaming. They lunged toward Mr. Fantastic, sensing weakness.
But Reed Richards was no easy prey.
Before their claws could connect, his body warped and twisted, elongating and stretching into impossible shapes. Razor-sharp talons sliced through the air where his flesh had been—but his elastic form simply flowed around them.
Then, with a flicker of motion, his limbs snapped out like rubber bands, coiling around the attackers. His fingers and legs wrapped tightly around their heads and torsos, squeezing with inhuman strength.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
The Chasers' skulls shattered like eggshells, orange fluid splattering across the ground. And just like the Thunderbeast before them, their bodies began to glow ominously—self-destruction triggered.
"Reed!" Sue shouted.
The explosion engulfed him instantly. His body—distorted and rubberlike—was hurled and twisted violently, flung around like a rag doll in a hurricane of fire. When the light faded, all that remained was a melted, formless mass.
Then, slowly, the mass began to move.
The twisted flesh rippled, bubbling, reshaping itself like molten wax until Reed Richards stood once again, unharmed—though looking understandably annoyed.
"Every time I see that, it still grosses me out," said The Thing, stomping over and patting him on the shoulder. "You look like a walking pile of—well, you know."
Reed sighed. "Not like I enjoy it. I just try not to match your color scheme, Ben."
"Enough," Invisible Woman interjected, her voice firm. "We have a mission to finish."
In her hands was a watch—a scorched, worn timepiece. The last remnant of Johnny Storm, the Human Torch.
"It's our duty to save this world," she said quietly. "Johnny would've wanted that."
At the mention of his name, all three fell silent.
The loss of the Human Torch had cut deep. The Fantastic Four weren't just teammates—they were family. Without him, the team felt incomplete, the air between them heavy with grief. But they had no time for mourning.
As the first and oldest superhero team in history, the Fantastic Four carried a legacy. In this desperate hour, they were the ones expected to lead by example—to stand where others faltered.
"This mission was ours from the start," Reed said finally. He reached out, taking the watch from Sue's hand and fastening it to his own wrist. "He's still with us… every step of the way."
Ahead of them, less than a kilometer away, the dense red mist of District D loomed like a living wall, its surface writhing and pulsing with energy.
If they could destroy it—if they could clear the skies over New York—then the U.S. forces could finally locate Scarlet Witch and reclaim air superiority.
The fate of the entire war hinged on that mist.
Inside it, the Mist Mutant, the infected being responsible for maintaining the fog, was already losing strength. Paralyzed by its own power, it could neither fight nor flee.
The path was open.
But even as the Fantastic Four pressed forward, Marcus's forces were closing in. The road was littered with Extremis Thunderbeasts, Chasers, and scattered supervillain-class mutants—delaying them, slowing them, testing their endurance.
It wasn't enough to stop them—but it was enough to make them bleed.
Because unlike the fractured, untested X-Men, the Fantastic Four were something else entirely. They weren't a team built from necessity or circumstance.
They were family—battle-hardened, united, and unmatched in their synchronization.
Long before the Avengers had ever existed, the world already had its heroes.
And their name was the Fantastic Four.
_____
T/N:
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