The hangar doors of the Umbrella Hive hissed open with a hydraulic roar, revealing the landing pad where a vibranium-shielded transport settled onto its struts. As the ramp lowered, three figures stepped out, each radiating an aura of power that would have crushed a normal man.
Tony Stark led the way, his stride possessing a youthful spring. Behind him walked T'Challa, his presence as heavy and silent as a mountain, followed by Namor, whose dark eyes scanned the high-tech facility with a king's predatory curiosity.
Aryan stood at the center of the hall, flanked by Wanda and Sharon, with Pietro leaning against a support pillar nearby, looking remarkably bored for someone in the presence of three world leaders.
As the three Kings approached, Aryan spread his arms wide, knowing grin plastered across his face.
"Welcome to the Hive, gentlemen," Aryan announced. "I see you've all successfully completed your... 'spiritual inductions.' I must say, the younger look suits you. Tony, you finally look as young as your ego thinks you are."
Tony was the first to break the silence. He stopped in front of Aryan, adjusted his shades, and then let out a sharp laugh.
"Oh, look at you," Tony teased, gesturing to the entire Hive. "The Master of Ceremonies himself. Tell me, Aryan, how does it feel to be a full-blown cult leader? I mean, I've had fans, but I've never made people chant poems about me in a circle just to get a health upgrade."
T'Challa chuckled, a resonant sound that lacked the gravel of his previous age. "It is a heavy burden, Tony. I had a hundred Dora Milaje chanting about 'The Fool' this morning. I felt less like a King and more like I was leading a very dangerous choir."
Namor stepped forward, his wings fluttering slightly. He looked at Aryan with a youthful intensity. "My people believe I have brought back the breath of K'uk'ulkan. If they knew I was actually reciting the 'King of Yellow and Black's' grocery list, there might be a mutiny. You have turned us all into your disciples, Aryan."
"Hey, don't look at me," Aryan laughed, raising his hands in defense. "The 'Fool' sets the rules. Besides, judging by the way you're all standing, none of you are complaining about the 500-year warranty."
"Since we're all immortal now, we might as well get to know the family," Aryan said, stepping back to gesture toward his companions. "You already know Wanda, the heart of this operation. Beside her is Sharon Carter—formerly of SHIELD, now an essential pillar of the Hive and, as of fifteen minutes ago, an eternal one."
Sharon nodded with professional grace, though her eyes were twinkling with amusement. "Kings. Stark. It's an honor. And for the record, I'm the one who handles the 'cult leader' when he gets too dramatic."
"A necessary job," T'Challa noted with a respectful bow.
"And this," Aryan said, pointing toward the pillar, "is Pietro Maximoff. My brother-in-law, the fastest man alive, and currently the most annoyed person in the room."
Pietro pushed off the pillar, moving in a silver blur to stand directly in front of the three Kings. "So, let me get this straight. The King of the Jungle, the King of the Fish-People, and the King of Snark are all part of Aryan's secret book club? Do you guys have a secret handshake, or do you just take turns praising the guy in the fog?"
Tony grinned, leaning toward Pietro. "Kid, if you think this is a book club, you haven't been paying attention. This is the 'We Run the World and Don't Age' club. Membership is exclusive, but the perks include never needing a chiropractor again."
"So, Aryan," Tony said, clapping him on the shoulder as the group began walking toward the central command hub. "Now that we've all done the 'chant and touch' routine, what's next on the cult agenda? Are we getting matching tattoos? I was thinking of a nice 'Fool' emblem right on the bicep."
"I think Namor would prefer a trident," Aryan joked. "But seriously, the look on your faces when you had to say the Honorifics must have been priceless. I know I had a hard time keeping a straight face with Wanda teasing me the whole time."
"It was... an experience," T'Challa admitted, his eyes crinkling. "I had to tell my General, Okoye, that it was a 'sacred ritual of the ancestors.' She looked at me like I had finally lost my mind after all these years. If she finds out it's actually a soul-handshake with a guy named 'The Fool,' she'll never let me live it down."
Namor scoffed, though there was a smirk on his lips. "At least your people respect your ancestors, T'Challa. My warriors thought I was casting a spell to turn them into surface-dwellers. I had to threaten to feed Attuma to a megalodon just to get him to say the third line."
"See?" Aryan laughed. "I'm the one who has to maintain the mystery. You guys just have to look pretty and live forever. I'm the one who has to deal with the 'cult leader' allegations every time I want to give someone a life-upgrade."
"Oh, please," Tony snorted. "You love it. You've got the aesthetic down. The Hive is basically a high-tech cathedral. All you're missing is the incense and a golden throne. Which, by the way, I can build for you. We can make it hover. Very 'Mysterious Ruler' style."
Pietro chimed in, walking backward in front of them. "Can we also get him a cape? A really big, dramatic one that swooshes when he talks about 'The Era of Prosperity.' I feel like that would really sell the whole 'Architect of Fate' thing."
Aryan shook his head, looking at his friends—the most powerful men on Earth, now rejuvenated and bonded by a secret that defied reality. "I'm surrounded by idiots. Immortal, super-powered idiots."
"But we're your idiots," Tony said, throwing an arm around Aryan's shoulder. "And we've got five hundred years to drive you crazy. Now, show us the Soldier. I want to see if this 'Fix-It' ritual is as ridiculous as the one we just went through."
"It's much more technical, Tony," Aryan said, his tone shifting back to the mission. "But with the four of us here, and the power we now hold... Bucky Barnes doesn't stand a chance against the Winter Soldier."
The four men shared a look—a silent acknowledgement of the bond they had formed above the grey fog. They were the foundation of a new world.