Marvel Comics: The Sentinel(Sentry)

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~Grizzly Club, Fifth Avenue~

When Sean saw General Ross again, the spirited old soldier who had once exuded authority now sat with his left arm in a sling, his face gloomy and dispirited...

A lit cigar rested nearby while half a bottle of strong liquor had already been consumed, clear evidence of the general's foul mood. For a man of such iron will to resort to drowning his sorrows in alcohol spoke volumes.

"I couldn't be of much help with S.H.I.E.L.D. Fury is even more stubborn than I am. I've suggested countless times that bloated organization needs oversight... they're all dangerous elements with no sense of national honor!" Ross grumbled bitterly.

No one in the military liked those black-suited agents. They unanimously viewed S.H.I.E.L.D. as an uncontrolled time bomb and had repeatedly demanded Nick Fury relinquish some authority, particularly by granting the Department of Defense access to their databases to ensure national security and resource sharing.

Unfortunately, the one-eyed director had never directly responded, always deflecting... or in other words, outright ignoring the military's proposals.

"Your willingness to speak up for me was help enough, General." Sean poured the older man another drink, "I saw the news about the explosion at Culver University in Virginia, heard you and Betty were hospitalized, and thought I should visit."

Ross's expression softened slightly. At least this young man wasn't some sycophant chasing power, "I tried accelerating the experiment's progress. To keep Banner in the dark about the project's true purpose, I only involved him in preliminary stages... no weapons applications. He thought he was working on radiation resistance research..."

"...But he grew overconfident, even testing the serum on himself. The result was catastrophic... though in a way, it achieved my original goal. You've never seen that beast... a near-perfect creation, unmatched in strength and ferocity. Far superior to any super-soldier!"

The old man sipped his liquor, eyes gleaming with fanaticism. He could never forget the green goliath's overwhelming might, a hundred elite soldiers couldn't match its destructive power.

"In my view, Banner's body rightfully belongs to the U.S. military. Yet he escaped! Despite my manhunt, he slipped away!"

Ross slammed his glass down, his voice thick with frustration. The project's failure had dealt a severe blow to his reputation, especially with critics calling super-soldiers "obsolete relics" compared to Tony Stark's Iron Man suits...

The general scoffed at the notion. A single suit cost tens of millions... More so if fully armed with weapons, energy systems, and AI, the price tag easily surpassed $100 million. Only that playboy billionaire could afford such extravagant toys.

"What's the deadliest weapon in history?" Ross slurred, clapping Sean's shoulder, "The AK-47. Over sixty years, it's killed millions."

Sean nodded. Of course he knew the iconic rifle stamped with Soviet coins, Mozambican flags, and Zimbabwean emblems, widespread from Afghan mountains to Iraqi deserts.

There was even a saying: its black-market price gauged a nation's stability...

$230-$400 meant relative peace; $100 signaled sudden conflict cessation; over $1,000 indicated prolonged warfare.

In the 1970s, a saying circulated: "America exports Coca-Cola, Japan exports Sony, and the USSR exports AK-47s."

The world's most popular assault rifle never jammed, overheated, or failed, even if buried in mud. It was so simple, even a child could wield it.

"The best weapons should be like the AK... accessible globally. Super-soldiers aim to create an invincible army. Stark's suits? Overpriced toys." Ross sneered, his bandaged arm twitching, "Imagine our troops with Captain America's physique... Spartan warriors, fearless and mighty..."

His mind kept circling back to Banner... or rather, the escaped green monster.

"General, I've brought you a new weapon. Its cost is negligible compared to Stark's machines, and it's ready for mass production."

Sean produced a glowing, spinning device from his palm, Ivan Vanko's replicated Arc Reactor.

Ross recognized it instantly, "The power source for Iron Man's suits?"

The military had closely monitored Stark's technology, but miniaturizing a nuclear reactor remained an insurmountable hurdle.

"Your insights resonate with me. Can billion-dollar war machines truly become mainstream arms? Does the military have Stark's bottomless budget?" Sean toyed with the replica.

Pursuing Iron Man tech was folly... even with Rhodes' War Machine suit, no one could replicate it. Without JARVIS-level AI, an armored division would be impractical for large-scale combat.

"This represents warfare's next evolution. How long did it take to progress from blades to bullets? Now, this little device can leapfrog firearms into energy-based combat overnight."

His gaze burned into Ross. The military had long researched energy weapons, but power consumption and miniaturization issues kept them theoretical.

Soberness cut through Ross' drunken haze, "You can deliver viable energy weapons?"

Here was his redemption, a chance to salvage his standing after the super-soldier debacle.

"Of course. I've secured a weapons expert who rivals Stark himself." Sean's smile oozed confidence.

'No one can replicate the Arc Reactor for twenty years?' Sean chuckled inwardly, 'Tony won't know whether to laugh or cry when we meet again...'

Glasses clinked over ice as Ross boomed, "God bless America!"

Sean sipped his drink silently, smiling...

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Read ahead on my P@treon...

[email protected]/MayaMatengele01