Hive sat on the couch, his voice cold and emotionless, his gaze locked on the television screen. He was absorbing the explosive flood of information pouring from this modern world.
"Today, strange phenomena have been reported in multiple parts of the ocean."
"It's been confirmed that the cruise ship Princess, en route across the Pacific, has mysteriously vanished."
"Eyewitnesses claim to have seen armed dolphins leaping out of the waves."
"A tsunami struck Neon Country earlier today, and waves of trash washed ashore in its aftermath."
As the reports rolled on, Hive's glowing eyes reflected a sinister light. Having absorbed the essence of over a dozen Inhumans, his mind was sharper than ever, brimming with cunning and malevolence.
Baron Strucker watched him closely. Hive's presence now exuded something divine—an unnatural aura of ancient godhood that made mere mortals uneasy.
A group of whimpering, broken humans were dragged before Hive. Without hesitation, countless bee-like parasites burst from Hive's body and invaded theirs.
He was harvesting them—draining their life force to further evolve.
Every drop of essence strengthened him. He could feel his senses sharpening, his thoughts becoming clearer, his powers deepening.
"Mason Industries' president, Gene Mason, hailed as the most brilliant inventor in the United States, made a rare public appearance today," said the newscaster. "He offered an explanation for the unusual energy fluctuations at Mason Tower, attributing them to a test run of a new type of energy weapon."
Hive's eyes flashed with interest. "Mason Industries… That shall be the cornerstone of our plan."
"But, Great One," Baron Strucker interjected, his voice grim. "Mason Industries is likely the most heavily fortified building in the world. Even the President's Black Palace pales in comparison. We've tried to infiltrate before… every attempt ended in complete failure."
Hive's gaze didn't waver. "This time will be different. I have an army of Inhumans."
Strucker had spent weeks recruiting more and more Inhumans under the banner of Hive—those who still believed in the old gods, who longed for purpose, for identity, for revenge.
Hive was waiting—just waiting for the last fragments of his ancient strength to return. Once ready, he would lead this army to storm Mason Industries, take Gene Mason's body, and use the unparalleled technological might of his empire to conquer the world.
It was a cliché plan—antiquated, even laughable in today's modern context—but the terrifying truth was: it might actually work.
Countless bee-like parasites swarmed out of the drained human husks and returned to Hive. The corpses, now hollow sacks of meat, collapsed in a heap. Strucker's eyes twitched. He had seen death many times—but this? This was a violation of life itself.
Hive turned to him and said coldly, "Come. Let's inspect our new Inhuman recruits."
There was no emotion in his voice. No humanity. Just the heavy, inescapable pull of destiny.
For the first time, a dangerous thought crossed Baron Strucker's mind—Had I made a terrible mistake in reviving this so-called god?
At the headquarters of S.W.O.R.D., a sleek space shuttle sped toward the massive orbital station.
"Every time I see this place, I swear, it gets cooler," Spider-Man said, his voice full of awe as he pressed his face to the shuttle's viewport.
The station had been restructured after the capture of Ronan's mothership, Dark Star. No longer wing-shaped, it now hovered like a massive sword piercing the space—fitting for a place called the S.W.O.R.D. Bureau.
From the shuttle, countless glowing lights could be seen pulsing across the station's surface—labs, reactors, and manufacturing plants humming with endless activity.
"Agreed," Doom said quietly, his voice uncharacteristically admiring.
"Verification complete. Authorized personnel confirmed."
The voice of Red Queen echoed inside the shuttle. "Good job. The Commander is waiting for you both on the bridge."
Spider-Man smirked. "You know, I've spent a lot of time around the Red Queen… and I still think she's way too human. Like, what if the Commander actually stuffed someone's soul into that AI?"
Doom raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't surprise me. Gene's methods are… unconventional."
Even someone as brilliant as Doom had to admit: Gene Mason existed on another level. The more Doom studied under him, the more he felt the unbridgeable chasm that separated them. Some of Gene's magical techniques, Doom could barely mimic—and forget trying to innovate or surpass them.
The shuttle docked smoothly with S.W.O.R.D.'s command platform, and the hatch hissed open. Doom and Spider-Man stepped out together.
"Looks like you two had a fun trip," Pietro quipped, standing at the docking bay with his arms crossed, a hint of jealousy in his voice.
He had wanted to be part of the mission too—wanted to see Atlantis with his own eyes. But in the end, the assignment went to Doom and Spidey.
"Oh, man, you should've seen it!" Spider-Man launched into his tale, barely stopping to breathe as he bombarded Pietro with rapid-fire descriptions and wild gestures.
Doom sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. These two together? A headache waiting to happen.
"…and then, BOOM! The whole Atlantean fleet, wiped out!" Spider-Man concluded with a dramatic flourish.
Pietro's eyes sparkled with excitement, living vicariously through every word.
Eventually, the group arrived at the command bridge. Spider-Man finally shut his mouth, and Doom allowed himself a deep breath of relief.
At last… a moment of peace.
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