League of Avengers

Chapter 16: Chapter 15



He had spent two days in this peculiar cell, and he was getting mighty tired of being treated like some laboratory curiosity. No iron bars, no burly guards, not even decent shadows to work with. Just smooth white walls and strange machines that made his cards tingle unpleasantly in their hidden holsters.

"Let's try the temporal field test again," one of the scientists announced, making another adjustment to their equipment. After two days of their endless tests and questions, Fate was starting to think these A.I.M. folks were making it up as they went along.

"Still getting anomalous readings," another replied, frowning at their screens. "Nothing matches our previous data on teleporters or dimensional manipulation. Subject, can you describe the sensation when you attempt to teleport?"

Fate gave them his best card shark smile. "Now why would I help folks who've been such inhospitable hosts? Two days of tests, and not even a decent drink offered."

He'd quickly realized these weren't trained interrogators – just scientists drunk on their own curiosity. They'd gotten lucky with whatever energy they were using to dampen his abilities, but they clearly had no real understanding of how his powers worked. Their questions made that obvious enough.

"The subject continues to be uncooperative," the first scientist noted, speaking into some kind of recording device. "Though the ability to communicate normally is fascinating – consistent with the other interdimensional visitors we've observed."

That had caught his attention during the first day – they kept comparing him to "other" dimensional travelers. Seemed he wasn't the first visitor from another realm to catch their interest, though he gathered their previous attempts at containment hadn't gone so well.

The pain in his skull pulsed in time with their containment field, a rhythm he'd spent the last two days studying carefully. Like any good gambler, he knew the key to winning wasn't just in the cards you held – it was in watching the patterns, learning the tells. And these A.I.M. folks had tells aplenty.

They were excited, sloppy in their confidence. Each time they adjusted their machines trying to get better readings, the energy dampening his powers fluctuated. Small windows of opportunity, getting more predictable as their frustration with his non-cooperation grew.

"Perhaps if we increase the field strength again?" one suggested, reaching for the controls.

"The last three attempts showed no improvement in data quality," another argued. "We need to try a different approach before the higher-ups start asking questions."

Fate kept his expression neutral, but inwardly he smiled. Nothing made marks more careless than pressure from above. In two days, he'd learned more from what they weren't saying than from all their endless questions.

They were afraid – of their bosses, of losing him like they'd lost other subjects, of missing something important. Fear made people rush, made them take risks. Made them sloppy.

His cards whispered to him, their power dampened but not dead. Two days was a long time to study a game, to learn its rhythms. These folks might have fancy machines and big words, but they were still just gamblers playing with powers they didn't understand.

And if there was one thing Twisted Fate knew about gamblers, it was how to spot the moment when desperation overtook caution.

That moment was coming soon. He could feel it in the increasingly frustrated exchanges between the scientists, see it in the growing pressure for results. When it came, he'd be ready.

After all, the best trick wasn't just knowing how to play your cards – it was knowing exactly when to play them.

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The Quinjet cut through the night sky, its stealth systems making it nearly invisible against the clouds. Peter tried to keep his leg from bouncing as he ran through the mission parameters one last time. Jean sat across from him, her eyes closed in concentration as she maintained telepathic links with the other teams.

"Energy signatures are still fluctuating," Tony's voice came through their comms. "Whatever they're doing in there, it's getting more unstable."

"The temporal readings are particularly concerning," Beast added from his position monitoring the mission. "They're similar to the anomalies we detected during the interdimensional incidents, but there's something different about the pattern."

"Could they have actually managed to capture someone?" Natasha's voice was sharp with concern.

"If they did, all the more reason to move quickly," Steve responded. "All teams, status check."

"Team One in position," Scott reported. "Thor and Garen are ready to provide backup once we breach."

"Team Two holding at secondary coordinates," Logan growled. "Security patrols matching predicted patterns."

Jean opened her eyes. "We're three minutes from our drop point. Peter, how's the suit reading?"

Peter checked the diagnostics one last time. "All systems green. Web-shooters configured for the EMP-resistant compound Tony developed."

"Remember," Jean said, and Peter could feel her gentle presence in his mind, "we stay connected at all times. If you sense anything unusual—"

"I relay it immediately," Peter finished. "No improvising, no solo heroics. I promised, remember?"

"Pretty sure the whole tower remembers after Thor's pinky-swear ceremony," Natasha commented dryly.

"Approaching drop zone," their pilot announced. "Ninety seconds to synchronization window."

Peter took a deep breath, feeling the familiar pre-mission tension. But this time it was different – his spider-sense wasn't just alert, it was almost... eager? Like it recognized something about the energy signatures they were detecting.

"Be advised," Beast's voice crackled through the comms again, "we're picking up some unusual spikes in the temporal readings. If they do have someone in there..."

"We'll find out soon enough," Jean said, standing. "All teams, prepare for simultaneous breach. Remember, we have a ninety-second window once their systems sync."

Peter rose, double-checking his web-shooters one final time. Through Jean's telepathic link, he could feel the focused determination of the other teams, their minds humming with practiced precision.

"Thirty seconds to sync," Tony announced. "And Peter? May's watching the feed. Try not to do anything that'll make her regret signing that contract."

"No pressure," Peter muttered, moving into position by the drop hatch.

"Ten seconds," Beast counted down. "Energy signatures approaching critical synchronization."

Peter felt Jean's presence in his mind strengthen, binding their team together more tightly. His spider-sense tingled, not with danger but with anticipation.

"Approaching drop zones," Tony's voice crackled through the comms. "All teams sync in three... two... one..."

The night erupted into coordinated action as three teams struck simultaneously.

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WESTERN FACILITY - TEAM JEAN

Peter launched from the Quinjet, the cool night air whipping past his mask as he swung toward the facility's roof access. Through Jean's telepathic link, he could feel the precise positioning of every team member. Below, guards were already responding to the perimeter alerts Scott had triggered.

*Security hub ahead,* Jean's voice guided him. *Three guards, automated defense systems.*

The first turret emerged from its housing just as Peter cleared the roofline. His spider-sense flared and he twisted mid-swing, letting the energy bolt pass harmlessly beneath him. Two precision web shots clogged the weapon's barrel, causing it to short out in a spray of sparks.

"Contact on the roof!" A guard's voice rang out as the security team burst through the access door. Their weapons hummed to life, but Peter was already moving. He used the disabled turret as a springboard, launching into a flip that carried him over their first volley.

"Sorry guys," Peter called as he landed behind them, "but your response time needs work!" His webs caught the first guard's weapon, yanking it away while he dropped into a sweep that took the second guard's legs out. The third managed to fire, but Peter's enhanced agility let him roll under the shot, coming up with a web-strike that pinned the man's arms to his sides.

*Eastern approach cleared,* Jean updated. *Thor and Garen are engaging the main security force.*

Through their link, Peter caught glimpses of the battle below – Thor's lightning illuminating the night as Garen's blade carved through A.I.M.'s defensive lines. The Demacian warrior had adapted quickly to working with the Avengers, his combat style complementing Thor's perfectly.

EASTERN FACILITY - TEAM LOGAN

"So much for stealth," Logan growled as the facility's automated defenses came online. Beside him, Storm's eyes glowed white as she summoned winds to deflect the incoming fire.

"Their response patterns are different from the intel," Storm observed, lightning arcing from her fingertips to disable a weapons emplacement. "They were expecting us."

Logan's claws flashed as he carved through a mechanized sentry. "Expecting something, maybe. Not us." He spun to engage three guards in enhanced armor, their weapons barely slowing him as he closed the distance. The first guard went down to a precise strike that disabled his suit's power supply. The second managed to fire some kind of sonic weapon, but Logan powered through the impact, his healing factor already counteracting the effects.

"Logan, on your left!" Storm's warning came just as a larger security mech rounded the corner, its weapons already charging. Wind howled through the corridor as she created a localized tempest, the powerful gusts throwing off the machine's targeting systems. Logan used the opportunity to close in, adamantium claws finding crucial weak points in its armor.

"Beast," Storm called through the comms as she fried another group of sentries, "their defenses are more advanced than we anticipated. The temporal shielding—"

"Is affecting all three facilities," Beast confirmed. "Scott's team is reporting similar resistance. Keep pushing – we need to reach those power cores before they can initiate full lockdown."

SOUTHERN FACILITY - TEAM SCOTT

Scott's optic blast tore through A.I.M.'s first defensive line, the red beam cutting a path for his team to advance. Behind him, Natasha moved like a shadow, her Widow's Bites disabling guards with surgical precision while Ahri's essence orb created chaos in their ranks.

"They're trying to flank us," Natasha warned, rolling under a barrage of energy fire to emerge in perfect position for a counterattack. Her next shot caught a guard's armor joint, the electrical discharge causing their whole system to seize.

"I see them," Scott adjusted his visor, sending another controlled blast that collapsed a section of walkway, cutting off the enemy's attempted pincer movement. Through their earpieces, they could hear similar battles unfolding at the other facilities.

Ahri dashed through the enemy formation, her essence orb leaving guards disoriented in its wake. "Their patterns are too coordinated," she called out, magic swirling around her as she charmed two more guards into firing on their own defensive positions. "This isn't standard security – they were ready for enhanced individuals."

"Agreed," Natasha's voice was tight as she engaged another guard in close combat. Her enhanced batons crackled with electricity as she swept the man's legs, following through with a strike that disabled his communications gear. "These aren't regular A.I.M. troops. They're specifically equipped for containment."

Scott was about to respond when the facility's lights flickered, power surging through conduits as emergency systems activated. "Beast, we've got some kind of power fluctuation here. The temporal readings—"

"All teams, be advised," Beast's voice carried urgency. "They're initiating emergency protocols at all three sites. Whatever they're containing in there, they're willing to risk a lot to keep it secure."

Through Jean's telepathic network, all three teams could feel the mounting pressure. They had minutes at most before A.I.M.'s full defensive capabilities came online. In the western facility, Peter cleared another security checkpoint, his spider-sense humming in harmony with Jean's guidance. At the eastern site, Logan and Storm pressed deeper into the complex, fighting through increasingly sophisticated resistance. And in the south, Scott's team found themselves dealing with defense systems specifically designed to counter their abilities.

The real question was: what exactly were they so determined to protect?

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The first explosion rattled the lab's delicate equipment, sending the scientists scrambling to secure their data. Twisted Fate watched them with practiced calm, noting how their usual methodical movements had devolved into barely controlled panic. After two days of their endless tests, seeing them squirm was almost worth the captivity.

"Multiple security breaches!" A technician's voice cracked as she stared at her monitors. "Teams reporting simultaneous attacks at all access points!"

"Maintain containment protocols," the lead scientist ordered, though his fingers trembled as he adjusted the field controls. "Subject stability is priority one. We cannot lose these readings!"

Fate allowed himself a small smile. He'd spent enough time in gambling halls to know when a mark was about to make a critical mistake. These folks had been so focused on studying his abilities that they'd forgotten the cardinal rule of any good con – never let them see you sweat.

"Sir!" Another scientist called out, "Security teams are being overwhelmed. They're requesting emergency power allocation!"

"Denied," the lead scientist snapped. "The containment field must remain at full strength. We cannot risk—"

The lights flickered as something heavy impacted the facility's outer walls. Through the observation windows, Fate caught glimpses of guards rushing past, their formations tight but their movements betraying their growing desperation.

"Energy readings becoming unstable," a technician reported, her voice rising in pitch. "The attack is affecting the temporal harmonics!"

More explosions rocked the facility. The containment field rippled – just slightly, but Fate had spent two days learning its rhythms. Like a poker player reaching for his chips too early, the scientists were showing their tells.

A gold card materialized between his fingers, its power dampened but not eliminated. These A.I.M. folks might understand the science of teleportation, but they'd never truly grasped its art. Their containment technology was impressive, but it was designed to suppress abilities they'd catalogued and measured. They hadn't counted on him spending his captivity learning their patterns, watching their routines, waiting for exactly this kind of opportunity.

"Intruders have breached the outer security ring!" The announcement echoed through the lab's speakers. "All personnel, initiate emergency protocols!"

"Lock down all research data," the lead scientist ordered. "Begin equipment purge. We cannot allow—"

The power flickered again, longer this time. For just a moment, the containment field's harmonics faltered. Fate felt his connection to the cards strengthen, like an old friend welcoming him back.

A guard burst through the lab doors, weapon raised. "Sir, we need to evacuate! The facility's defenses are failing!"

The lead scientist hesitated, looking between his precious data and the chaos unfolding around them. Another explosion rocked the building, closer this time. Through the windows, Fate caught a glimpse of something moving with impossible agility through the security teams.

Time to show these folks why it was a bad idea to try and cage someone who made a living reading odds. They'd spent so much time studying how his powers worked that they'd never stopped to consider that perhaps he'd been studying them right back.

As alarms blared and the scientists argued about evacuation protocols, Twisted Fate began to shuffle his cards. After all, what was a good game without a proper finale?

"Gentleman," he drawled, watching the containment field's strength waver as they diverted power to their defenses, "I believe it's time to show you how a real card sharp plays his hand."

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A/n: pls review and comment if you find any mistakes and inconsistencies, so I can fix them. Thank you for reading and see you in the next chapter.

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