The heat radiating from Peter was alarming, even for someone with my enhanced physiology. By the time we reached the genetics lab exit, he was leaning heavily against me, his skin flushed a deep, unhealthy crimson. His breathing was shallow, ragged hitches that rattled in his chest.
"Just... need some water," Peter mumbled, his eyes unfocused behind his glasses. "Maybe sit down for a sec."
"We're going to get you something better than water, Pete," I soothed, keeping my voice level despite the adrenaline thrumming through my veins. I tapped the comms unit disguised as a sleek black stud in my ear. "Flash, side entrance. Now. Package is fragile."
"ETA thirty seconds, Boss," Flash's voice crackled back, tight with disciplined urgency.
I steered Peter away from the main group, flashing a charming, apologetic smile at the tour guide who looked ready to protest. "My friend is having a severe allergic reaction. I'm taking him to urgent care. My driver is outside."
Before she could cite protocol, I was already pushing through the emergency exit. The cool New York air hit us, but it did nothing to cool Peter down. If anything, he shivered violently, his teeth chattering.
The black SUV screeched to a halt at the curb. The back door flew open, and Scott was there, his eyes flashing amber as he scanned the perimeter. He helped me hoist Peter into the backseat.
"He smells like a reactor meltdown," Scott muttered, sniffing the air as he buckled Peter in. "Whatever bit him, it's rewriting him."
"It's destiny, Scott," I said, sliding in next to Peter and pulling his head onto my lap. I heard the front door open as Flash got in, I stroked Peter's sweat-dampened hair. "Drive."
The descent into the mansion's garage was a blur of efficiency. We bypassed the living quarters and went straight to Sublevel 6 via the side entrance in the garage. The Medical Bay was sterile, white, and smelling faintly of antiseptic and ozone.
Heaven Canceller, the frog-faced doctor I'd summoned from Academy City, was already scrubbing up. He didn't ask questions; he just pointed to the bio-bed.
"Cellular degradation and rapid regeneration occurring simultaneously," the doctor noted, glancing at the holographic displays hovering over Peter's thrashing form. "His DNA is unraveling and knitting itself back together into a stronger double-helix structure. Painful, but he will survive."
"Keep him stable," I ordered, watching Peter's face contort in a grimace of unconscious pain. "He stays under until the transformation settles. I want him waking up feeling like a million bucks, not like he went ten rounds with a truck."
"I shall administer a sedative cocktail to ease the neural load," Heaven Canceller nodded.
I lingered for a moment, watching the boy who would be Spider-Man. I pressed a kiss to his burning forehead, whispering a silent promise that he wouldn't carry this burden alone. Then, I turned and walked out. The Alpha couldn't hover. The Alpha had to lead.
Outside the Med Bay, Will Clayton was waiting for me, tablet in hand. His expression was grim.
"Status?" I asked, wiping Peter's sweat from my hands.
"We have a situation," Will said, falling into step beside me as we headed toward the War Room. "Legion picked up high-frequency police chatter and thermal spikes near the Queensboro Bridge. It matches the energy signature of the glider tech we saw in the OsCorp files."
I stopped. "The Goblin? Already?"
"Calculations suggest the timeline is correcting itself," Will explained. "The presence of our organization, the changes to the timeline... reality is accelerating certain events to compensate. Norman Osborn has likely tested the serum on himself earlier than anticipated."
I smirked, a dark satisfaction curling in my gut. "Let him fly. We need a public debut. If the Goblin wants to play early, he just becomes the perfect stepping stone for the Defenders."
Will nodded, tapping his screen. "I'll have Jason run tactical simulations for aerial combat. We'll be ready."
As Will departed, the world around me seemed to pause. The familiar, chime-like sound of the System echoed in my mind, freezing the air in the hallway.
[SYSTEM ALERT: MAIN QUEST UPDATE]
[Objective: Assemble the Pantheon]
The path to Godhood requires variety. Your harem is strong in supernatural and human elements, yet lacks the evolutionary key of this universe: The Mutant gene. To secure the trust of the Homo Superior race in the future, you must bridge the gap now.
[New Targets Identified]
1. Frank Castle (The Punisher): A man of war to lead your armies.
2. Cain Marko (The Juggernaut): Currently unaligned. A powerhouse essential for heavy assault. Note: While mystically empowered, his signature is compatible with mutant recruitment protocols.
[Reward]: 500 Sex Points, Ability Enhancements, 1x Free recruitment ticket.
I stared at the blue window floating in the air. Juggernaut and Punisher. Heavy hitters. And the System was right—I had vampires, werewolves, vigilantes, and soon a spider-totem. But no mutants.
Wait.
I walked into the War Room, pouring myself a drink as I mulled over the "mutant" requirement. The X-Men were despite there claims very insular. Getting Cyclops or Storm to trust me right now would be a nightmare of politics. But if I had "mutants" on my team already... it would grease the wheels.
"System," I thought, projecting my query. "Do recruits from other universes with genetic meta-abilities—specifically for example DC Metahumans or MHA Quirks—register as 'mutants' to scanners and psychics in this reality?"
[Affirmative. The X-Gene is the local designations for inherent genetic superpowers. Genetic anomalies from other dimensions adapt to local physics, reading as the corresponding threat level of Omega, Alpha or Beata class mutants to local detection methods depending on there power level.]
I grinned, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. That changed everything. I didn't need to hunt down scared kids in Westchester. I could buy loyalty.
Sunday morning arrived with a quiet stillness. Peter was still under, his vitals normalizing into the super-soldier range. The fever had broken, leaving him sleeping peacefully.
Jason and Will approached me while having breakfast in the common area.
"We found him," Jason said, tossing a file on the table next to my eggs. "Frank Castle. He's tracking a cartel shipment at the docks tonight. If we want him, we interrupt the party."
"Good work," I said, taking a sip of coffee. "Keep eyes on him. But don't engage yet. I have to go... recruit some specialists for the team. We're going to need more firepower if we're dealing with Osborn and Castle in the same week."
"More strays?" Angel asked from the couch, not looking up from his book.
"Not strays," I corrected, standing up. "Family."
I took one of the stealth cars and drove out to a secluded warehouse district I owned through shell companies—a perfect drop point. Once parked, I opened the System Shop.
I had 1,200 Sex Points burning a hole in my pocket. It was time to spend.
I navigated the filters. DC Universe. CW Network. Metahumans.
First, I needed raw power. Someone who looked like a mutant, acted like a hero, but carried a nuke in his back pocket. My finger hovered over Ronnie Raymond—Firestorm. The Season 1 version. Jock, confident, combustible.
Cost: 370 SP. Add-on: Independent Matrix (No Professor Stein required) - 50 SP. Total: 420 SP.
Second, utility. Someone versatile. Ralph Dibny. The Elongated Man. Detective skills to match Jason, but with a power set that made him practically indestructible and extremely... flexible.
Cost: 250 SP. Add-on: False History (Marvel Universe Integration) - 20 SP. Total: 270 SP.
Total spend: 690 Points. Remaining balance: 510 Points.
"Purchase," I commanded.
The air in the warehouse shimmered, gold particles coalescing into two forms.
Ronnie materialized first, stumbling slightly as if he'd just landed from a jump. He was tall, blonde, built like a linebacker, wearing a tight grey t-shirt that strained against his chest. Ralph appeared next, lanky but broad-shouldered, looking around with wide, confused eyes.
"Whoa," Ronnie said, shaking his head. "Where... who are you?"
The System's false memories settled in instantly. Their eyes glazed over for a microsecond before snapping back to me with recognition and deep, chemically induced adoration.
"Dennis?" Ralph blinked, a grin spreading across his face. "Boss! I thought we were meeting at the Mansion."
"Change of plans, boys," I said, leaning against the hood of the car, letting my Aura wash over them. To them, I wasn't just a leader; I was gravity. "I wanted a private word before you meet the rest of the pack."
Ronnie stepped closer, the heat radiating off him palpable. "Is everything okay? You called us in early."
"I need to calibrate your loyalty," I said, my voice dropping an octave. "And I need to make sure you understand your place in the hierarchy. You're Rank 2. That means you serve the team... and you please the Alpha."
Ralph's eyes darkened, his playful demeanor shifting to something hungrier. "Whatever you need, Dennis. You know I can stretch to fit... any requirement."
"And I burn for you," Ronnie added, the cheesy line delivered with dead serious intensity. "Just tell us what to do."
"Get in the back," I ordered, opening the rear door.
They didn't hesitate.
The next hour was a blur of heat and elasticity. Ronnie was intense, passionate, his skin fever-hot against mine, every touch sending sparks of Chi into my system. Ralph was different—inventive, his body contorting in ways that shouldn't be possible, wrapping around me, making me feel surrounded.
I fed on them, but gently. I wasn't draining them dry; I was binding them. The Dawngleam bond snapped into place, golden chains linking their souls to mine. By the time we were finished, the car windows were fogged, and I had regained a chunk of the Chi I'd spent worrying about Peter.
"Welcome to the Defenders," I whispered, buttoning my jeans as they lay naked tangled together on the backseat, looking thoroughly wrecked and blissfully happy.
Returning to the mansion, I walked in with a swagger that drew everyone's attention. Ronnie and Ralph flanked me, looking fresh and eager.
"Team," I called out, gathering everyone in the living area. Even Flash looked up from his textbook.
"These are our new recruits," I announced, resting my hands on their shoulders. "Ronnie Raymond. molecular rearrangement. And Ralph Dibny. Elastic morphology."
"Mutants?" Jason asked, assessing them.
"High-level ones," I lied smoothly. "They've been underground. But they're ready to step into the light. Ronnie, Ralph... meet the family."
Ronnie ignited his hands, small controlled flames dancing over his palms, while Ralph stretched his neck and arm five feet across the room to shake Flash's hand, causing the bully to yelp and fall backward.
"Nice to meet you guys!" Ralph chirped.
I caught Scott's eye. He smirked, sensing the fresh scent of sex and loyalty on them. The harem was growing. And with "mutants" on the roster, the path to Godhood was wide open. Now, all I needed was for Peter to wake up so I could show him his new world.
///////
Hey another thing I wanted to be clear up this time about the false history given to any it means they have two sets of memories their real ones and the Marvel one to blend in better also if someone where to read their mind they would only access the Marvel memory.