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Dragonborn's Might makes Right by Infonticus

Game X-overs & Avengers Xover Rated: M, English, Adventure, Words: 356k+, Favs: 1k+, Follows: 1k+, Published: Aug 25, 2021 Updated: Jun 12, 2022

514Chapter 22

Chapter 22: The Burned

[Sakaar]

"I am Hevnokren."

"So, who are you supposed to be?"

And I watched in amusement as her steel-blue eyes narrowed into pinpricks as a blatantly horrified expression fell on her face. I carefully gripped her- avoiding crushing her in my dragon claws like an overripe banana. And so far, cute little Nora is reacting to this series of events precisely as I thought she would.

Nora. Hevnokren-Barbara. Hevno-Bara. no-ra. Nora. it was supposed to be a cover name. There was no need to overcomplicate cover names. I would have named her Heva, but that would have been too on the nose. And despite how amusing it would have been to make a mind-wiped female clone of myself just for the sole reason of making her into my sex slave, this 'Nora' does have a very tangible reason: As much as I would love to spend all my time enjoying doing pointlessly evil things like other warlords. I still had a goal to fulfil, a mission to complete, and omnipotence to reach.

And Nora in all her amnesiac-nature was going to help me.

== ] C [ ==

COMPANY MISSION

Mission Title: Under Draconic Rule

Scope: Standard-Level

Objective: Rule Sakaar for 10 years.

[?] Sub-Objective #1: Kill the Grandmaster and wrest Control of Sakaar from him

Sub-Objective #2: Triple the population and economic production of Sakaar within the next 5 years.

Sub-Objective #3: ?

Condition: You cannot leave Sakaar for more than 72 hours each month.

[?] Sub Reward #1: 40 Credits

Sub Reward #2: 200 Credits

Sub Reward #3: ?

Mission Reward: 1 T11 Ticket

== ] C [ ==

Sub-Objective #2: Triple the population and economic production of Sakaar within the next 5 years.

Population Progress: 2.7%

Economic Production Progress: 39%

== ] C [ ==

At the end of the day, I was still a Company Contractor, and the Tier-11 ticket could not be understated in its importance. Tier-11 waifus were Gods and Goddesses who could unmake and remake the universe with just a thought, they were primordial entities of creation and destruction or eldritch gods capable of exerting their will unto reality in ways unknowable to the mortal mind. Tier-11 Tickets were used to purchase them… or to claim their power as my own. Just one Tier-11 ticket was enough to catapult a person into effective omnipotence, I was in line to claim two.

And that was why- despite all my dicking around with MCU women- I was still playing to win, and also the reason why Nora was necessary.

In military war games, tactics would often be tested by setting aside part of your forces who would then act as the enemy in the encounter. They would act like intelligent adversaries who were familiar with your strength and adapted to nullify them and counter your strategies. All so that you can address the weaknesses in them. Opposing Forces or 'OpFor' as that force would often be called. And this trapped little girl in my clenched claw with the cute face, lovely voice and delicious body was my very own OpFor.

She was quick on the uptake too. Her steel-blue eyes darted here and there as she considered her options.

'So, go ahead, Nora.'

'Let's start things off with a simple question: What would my enemies do to deal with a giant metal dragon having them in his grip?

And her answer came promptly.

"Wuld!" she Shouted the [Whirlwind Sprint] Shout- her slender frame still clad in that white dress disappearing from my metal claws and reappearing at the other edge of the Dragon's Tower. Her steel-blue eyes scanned the horizon for something, and just as I was about to shoot lightning at her…

"Wuld Nah Kest!" her feminine voice Shouted again- making her disappear in a flash straight off the Dragon's Tower and out of view. And I stored the memory of the mental note into one of my Hevnokrenite scales for later review.

'Ah, teleportation. Break line of sight. Then evade and escape. An interesting answer.'

= H =

Nora OpFor Notes:

Nora OpFor Note #1: Speedsters and Teleporters still prove to be effective against me. Look for ways to interdict their movement.

= H =

Well, she was doing nothing I didn't already know. But it was a curious move from her all the same… that is until I peered over the edge of the Dragon's Tower where she disappeared, and realised just what her plan was.

Stretching out into the horizon was the sprawling, eternal warzone that was Sakaar City. By now, Sakaar City was a mighty metropolitan capital now with a population of more than 100 million souls. A chaotic urban hellscape where the strongest gangs bitterly vie for territory and the constant supply drops of food, medical supplies and guns that I launch randomly into the city stoked the fires of conflict.

Sakaar had a brutal beauty to it.

Apartment buildings were turned into drug den fortresses, highways turned into deadly racing wars between armed vehicles, the roads were constantly littered with the bodies of the weak and the unlucky, and the expansive sewers of Sakaar turned into undercity havens for the deranged and the desperate. And rising above them, highly armoured and highly resilient mega-block skyscrapers rose up like great obelisks all across the city. Self-contained little cities designed to withstand a mid-level, Klee-induced nuclear apocalypse. (All because of Klee's last 'Oopsie Incident')

All-in-all, a hundred million souls constantly lived and died here, and among those many millions of souls was Nora- hiding amongst them and using them as a human shield, millions of bodies thick. She knew that I wasn't about to ravage my own city just to get to her.

She was using every weakness of mine against me- just as I wanted.

= H =

Nora OpFor Note #2: My powerset sorely lacks an offensive ability that does not involve massive collateral damage. Develop an ability capable of precise long-range strikes.

= H =

But first, I needed to find her on this warzone planet. Channelling magicka into my Hevnokrenite scale enchanted with the [Clairvoyance] spell, I found… that I couldn't find her.

"How did you manage that, Nora?"

Regardless of how she was able to do it, it still meant that I can't locate her using the standard Clairvoyance spells; but thankfully, there was an alternative.

"LAAS YAH NIR!"

(Life, Seek, Hunt)

And using the Soul Stone in conjunction with the [Aura Whisper] Shout, the location of every soul on the planet was revealed to me: Every Sakaarian currently well or overdosing, every rat crawling in the sewers, every slave dreaming of freedom, every knight-grandmaster feverishly masturbating in her office, every drunk wind god doing a pub crawl, and… every Dovahkiin who was currently intangible using the [Become Ethereal] Shout.

"Well, that was an unexpected interaction between magic spells…"

= H =

Nora OpFor Note #3: I'm too dependent on the easily-defeated Clairvoyance spell to search for my enemies. Find better passive detection abilities.

= H =

The intangible, ghost-like form of Nora was currently inside a Sakaarian Raider's personal garage- looking like she was about to hijack a custom, suped-up fighter-craft.

She was escaping? And thinking about it for a second, I had to concede the point. Given that she only had her Dovahkiin powerset from when I started on this MCU adventure, it shouldn't be surprising at all. Nora was likely looking to regroup and search for avenues of power that can grant her the ability to defeat me.

"Not yet, Nora. Not yet. You haven't taught me enough new things."

And with an almost casual flex, my gargantuan Dragon Form spread out its massive metal wings- shrouding a good part of the city in a dark shadow- before I took to the skies

A stadium-sized Dragon of indestructible metal glided through the air.

It only took only a minute or two to reach the garage that Nora was hiding in. More like a bunker than anything else, just like the rest of Sakaar. A blocky metal structure shaped like a brick and thrice as sturdy: metre-thick armoured metal walls salvaged from warship hulls and heavy duty doors salvaged from safe rooms- built to withstand boarding parties and their breaching explosives. But most importantly, my Dragon Form was definitely not going to fit inside, and I was left just hovering in the air over it like a Skyrim dragon would.

"Now the interesting part… let's see what you will come up with in a straight fight, Nora."

Reaching into my Dragon Cabin, I pulled out my Dovahkiin body and dropped it onto the roof of the building.

"The Soul Stone was doing as intended, it seems." My gravelly voice grunted as I landed onto the metal roof of the building- the dragonplate armour clacking with the movement. "It's good to be able to work two bodies with my one soul again."

A seven-foot-tall obelisk of battle-hardened muscle, dragonplate armour, and violence… Nora was missing out with her dainty little girl body.

One flex of the Space Stone energies later and I was inside the garage. A moderately spacious place of about four times the size of a basketball court with the suped-up single-seat fighter-craft sitting in the corner: A ferrari-red dagger-shaped hull that bristled with Oversized Tesseract-Energy guns and equally oversized TE engines. Must be a beast to fly. And right there in the fighter-craft's cockpit was a tangible Nora who spotted me the instant I teleported in. Looking like a deer caught in the headlight, she stared at me as if she hadn't expected me to find her so fast.

And a touch of confusion came to me as well: Why was she so surprised? Oh right, her memories don't reach up to the part where I had retrieved the Soul Stone.

Her expressive steel-blue eyes were once again glancing this way and that, no doubt looking for her next escape route. And that wouldn't do at all.

"Give me a good fight, or I'll end this right here and right now." my deep voice boomed my warning to her as I raised my Mace of Molag Bal. Thirty-two kilograms of blackened Daedric metal, jagged like a nightmare and twice as terrible, rested comfortably in my hand as my other hand readied the Skyrim spell [Ice Storm]. A swirling mini blizzard of razor-sharp icicles that would shred through flesh and sap stamina.

I stamped down on the instinct to use my [Slow Time] Shout, because that would end things immediately and defeat the purpose of the fight in the first place. Same goes for the Infinity Stones, so I'll start with the 'kid's gloves' on and let her show me what she can do.

But even with all those arbitrary handicaps, it was still far from a fair fight. She didn't even have a weapon in hand. But I didn't care about fairness right now, and neither did she. Nora knew full well that I was going to keep that threat if she didn't give me what I wanted. And she also knew that there was no escape for her since- if I was here then, my Dragon Form was right outside. Slowly, she exited the cockpit, and climbed down to the garage floor.

And this was it. In this bunker-garage, we were to face off. In one corner was me- a seven-foot-high muscled pillar of dragonplate-armoured Dovahkiin, blood-red eyes almost glowing in anticipation through the eye slits of my dragonplate helmet; and in the other corner was her… Nora was practically a clone of Barbara: Bouncy ash-blonde hair in twin swirling pigtails under a white nurse's cap, a pretty heart-shaped face with soft skin, button nose, soft pink lips, a white frock dress that hid deliciously pert breasts and white stockings clinging to her long, slender legs.

And I couldn't help but think that this was an interesting sight to see: this was the sight that Aether and his Genshin waifus faced down all those days ago… Right before being brutally beaten half to death in a frenzied flurry of violence. Poor Barbara was still getting nervous looks from the other Genshin waifus thanks to me wearing her face that one time. But I digress.

Nora here was the answer. The answer to the question 'Who was Hevnokren without the Dragonplate, the Infinity Stones, the power over indestructible metals and all perks granted by the Company?'

And it was clearly evident in her eyes. The steel-blue narrowed as she stood some distance from me- staring at me with just the right emotion I was looking for: That of a cornered, desperate animal determined to fight for its survival… or die trying.

And I gave a vicious smile under my dragonplate helmet.

'That's it, Nora. Show me the power that comes from a mortal's desperation. Exploit all my weaknesses so that I can correct them.

Then- most unexpectedly- she began marching towards me.

"Raan Mir Tah!" Nora Shouted just as she dove behind the fighter-craft's landing gear.

The Animal Allegiance Shout? But what kind of animal is here on Sakaar? Then the answer came: Vermin. Space rats as large as dogs, cockroaches the size of fists, and all the other vermin that ruled the sewers of Sakaar's undercity began pouring from the storm drainage all around the garage.

My mace was useless against all this number, but no matter, I can just switch to the [Lightning Cloak] spell. With a single cast, I'll become a living bug zapper for these pests. Except… They were aiming precisely for that hand- rats and cockroaches swarmed in with their bodies- clogging up the space on my palm and preventing me from closing my fist to change spells.

"Very clever!" I growled, half out of frustration and half out of approval.

She couldn't think up a way to properly penetrate my armour, and that's why she's engaging me in an oblique attack. Stuck with just my [Ice Storm] spell, I began casting it in every direction as I waded through the literal flood of vermin that now filled the garage. The swirling mini-blizzard shredding through the vermin like they were put in a blender. Filthy rat blood and insect juices splattering everywhere including all over me.

Then the whirring of servos and groaning of the metal told me that garage doors began to open, and that's when I realised that was Nora's intention all along: to distract and blind me, possibly so that she could escape.

I broke free of the filthy swarm just in time to see how wrong I was. She wasn't in the ship to escape. The blue glow of the fightercraft's Tesseract-Energy cannons charging up illuminated the garage, and Nora was right there back in the cockpit- aiming down the sights.

"Suck my muzzle, Hevnokren!" Her furious shout heralded a deadly volley of TE bolts that crossed the few metres between us to impact against my helmet. Guns so large that you could slip your fist into the muzzle. They were made to take down warships five times its size, and she was aiming for the eye slits of my helmet!

And worse still, she had overcharged the shots. Overcharging Tesseract-Energy weapons was an intentional feature for most TE weapons. It gave their wielders the option to shoot really big blasts when it counted. A Tesseract-Energy Luger pistol being able to fire off a single blast that could vapourise a truck? Well worth it, even if it did tend to break the weapon outright. And I didn't fancy my chances of taking a volley of those overcharged shot straight to the eyes.

= H =

Nora OpFor Note #4: I have a long response time when dealing with swarm-type enemies. Devise faster responses to those types of threats.

Nora OpFor Note #5: Skyrim spells still need a somatic (hand gestures) component. Eliminate that need.

Nora OpFor Note #6: Gaps in my armour (Particularly the eye slits) are still a major weakness. Find a way to close them off without sacrificing sight.

= H =

"A good attempt!" I shouted over the roar of the cannons as my dragonplate-armoured bulk jumped onto the fighter-craft - digging a dragonplate-armoured fist into the hull so that I could tear the cockpit glass straight off the ship. The momentary flash of panic in the slippery bitch's eyes as I reached out to grab her around her slender neck was surprisingly satisfying.

"Wuld!" She Shouted just as my gauntleted fingers were about to wrap around her slender neck- disappearing from the cockpit and at the other end of the garage- ducking behind a column.

*Beep Beep* The ship beeped, and the engine shrieked a high pitch squeal.

"W-?" I didn't even get to finish my 'What?' before everything blurred. And abruptly, I was in orbit around Sakaar- still holding onto the fighter-craft. The yellow and blue ball that was Sakaar hung over my head.

And yet again, I didn't have time to regain my bearings before the fighter-craft's TE-reactor detonated with the force of a 40 megaton nuke- lighting up that portion of space with a brief star and sending me tumbling into deep space away from Sakaar.

Unharmed of course, and impressed.

= H =

Nora OpFor Note #7: Despite wielding the Space Stone, I can still be teleported against my will in specific scenarios. Prepare countermeasures against it.

Nora OpFor Note #8: I have become too accustomed to being invulnerable that my reflexes and reaction times to hostile actions are subpar. Train to eliminate such sluggishness.

= H =

"Clever girl." I sighed- approving of the resourcefulness that she had demonstrated thus far, "Using yourself as bait to lure me into your trap."

Nora's might, cunning and aggression has impressed me enough. Moreover, she has pointed out so many weaknesses that I can safely correct. And looks like the next few days will be very productive for me, all thanks to her.

Of course, I had tried to think about it myself before, and even plugged a few holes in my defences. But I may have missed some, and that was what Nora was here for. A fresh perspective of looking at old information. No other waifu in my retinue will be as instrumental in directly strengthening me than her. But that doesn't mean I wasn't going to let her off unharmed, because there was just one more thing that I needed Nora to do…

…I needed to make her want to kill me, then and only then will I send her on her way.

With a flex of the Space Stone, I teleported right back to the garage. And using the Reality Stone, I disintegrated the improvised traps that she had prepared for me. Seeing the sudden use of the Infinity Stones, a panicked look came to her.

I swung my mace in a wide arc- the heavy jagged metal meeting her slender leg with a satisfying crunch of bone. Two more immediately followed suit to her arm and her side, and her steel-blue eyes flew wide open in pain as she crumpled to the ground.

"Playtime's over." My voice boomed, but even without a means to escape, Nora remained defiant.

"Fus Ro Dah!" she Shouted right at my feet- blasting a crater on the floor and likely trying to get me off balance… Except it did nothing with my ability to levitate using the Infinity Stones. Teeth gritted in pain, she aimed her steel-blue eyes with a furious glare as I cast an [Ice Storm] at her, a flurry of subzero winds carrying razor sharp icicles- cutting her in a dozen different places. And throughout it all, the only sound she made was a growl of rage as she began bleeding from the dozen open wounds.

And picking up her bleeding form, I tossed her as hard as I could through a Space Stone portal. And I immediately checked my mission timer.

== ] C [ ==

Time remaining off Sakaar before mission failure:

2 HOURS, 19 MINUTES, 44 SECONDS.

== ] C [ ==

Good. Nora is working as intended and she's not affecting my timer. As long as she doesn't realise that she is actually me- Hevnokren- then it will keep working that way. Well, I think all I've done so far has been enough to make her nurse a powerful grudge against me, and probably try to kill me. All because there was one question I really wanted her to answer.

'How would my enemies go about killing a metal dragon god whose entire build is about stacking as much armour and magic resistance as possible?'

I needed her to find all the paths to ultimate power that I missed. All the methods that my real enemies could use try and kill me. And when she does, I'll adapt to them. I'll be able to devise defences and countermeasures, and I'll keep growing more and more resilient to more forms of attacks until finally… I truly become indestructible and unstoppable.

'When every strike's kinetic energy is absorbed. When every magical effect fizzles to nothing at the touch of Hevnokrenite. What would my enemies resort to next to defeat me? Show me the answer, Nora.'

[Delaware, USA] (A few minutes later)

Who I had been mattered little anymore, I discovered.

The late afternoon sun streamed through the trees as I was tossed across a grassy meadow- violently tumbling across the grass until I came to a rest in a painful heap of multiple open wounds and broken bones. Blood spilled out of my cuts and gashes to stain my white frock dress in a rich crimson.

Yes… this just proved that in a straight up slugging match against Hevnokren, I was no match.

Cradling the Skyrim Spell [Close Wounds] with a broken arm, I sighed in relief as it did as advertised- my open wounds stitched closed and my broken bones snapped back together under the warm, white light. But once again, my enemy was relentless as I witnessed it: The heavy footsteps, the clacking of Dragonplate and the large shadow cast over me. All telling me that he had arrived.

Onto the grassy meadow, Hevnokren's seven-foot-tall Dovahkiin form stomped- completely unharmed by that TE-reactor blowing up in his face and everything that followed. Because of course, he was. I had given the best fight as I could, but with Hevnokren stacking armour and magic resistance to the point of absurdity, only greater gods would be able to harm him, and even then, with immense difficulty.

"This is your stop, Nora." his deep, booming voice cruelly laughed as stood over me.

I hadn't given my cover names much thought before, because there had been no need to do so. But now, it was all I had: I was now Nora, and he was Hevnokren. I was the mortal woman, and he was the Dragon God in human form. Because despite this current situation being oh so confusing, I was wholly for the opinion that having an identity crisis was for the weak. It didn't matter who I was, because the only thing that truly mattered was who I was going to be: Hevnokren's murderer.

Hevnokren's blood-red eyes looked at me through the slits of his dragonplate helmet.

"I'm going to murder you." I swore with a growl, but Hevnokren just snorted in amusement- my all-too-feminine voice made me end up just sounding like a bratty little girl.

"You're too weak to even try right now." He laughed cruelly as he spread his arms- inviting me to take a free shot. "Go on, try and harm me again."

And the fact that I didn't take advantage of the 'opening' proved his point. Attacking him again would be a meaningly exercise after all- there was nothing I could do to even scratch that Dragonplate armour, much less actually harm him. We both knew it.

"You are an interesting little morsel, Nora; and I'm curious as to what else you can do." He shared in a musing tone of voice. This cocky dragon might have most of the galaxy under his control, but I was still going to take him down for this.

"Here, you're going to need this for whatever you're planning." he casually dropped the Mace of Molag Bal down on the grass in front of me. The fanged faces forged onto the black metal seemingly grinning up at me like I was an old friend. It wasn't clear to me as to why he was giving me this.

"But whatever you do, wherever you go, whoever you become. Never forget…" He stressed- a curious touch of solemn formality in his voice. And looking up, my steel-blue eyes met Hevnokren's blood red ones for the last time.

"...Might makes Right." he solemnly whispered- as if warning me. And with that, he disappeared back through the shimmering blue portal and left me in this meadow- the Mace of Molag Bal being my only companion.

"None of this makes any sense." I sighed to the empty meadow. "I have all the same memories as he had, but it still doesn't make sense."

Everything from his past life to his arrival on Sakaar to his defeat of Aether and to his ongoing conquest of the multiverse. But there were memories missing near the end, specifically the events after I- Hevnokren distributed the Dragon Balls. One moment, he was standing atop the Dragon's Tower activating the Dragon Balls to give their bearers powers; and the next moment, I was waking up on that operating table inside his [Dragon Cabin].

Dread filled me as horrifying possibility occurred to me, and I immediately stripped down- looking over the soft, pale skin in search of a Company brand. But there was none to be found, just a delicate feminine body that was likely cloned from Barbara. A quick check between my legs confirmed that I even had my hymen intact, and that was even more puzzling.

Hevnokren hasn't marked me, hasn't raped me. Why? What purpose could I possibly serve to hi-

And I sighed as the obvious answer came to me.

Amusement. He left me like this out of nothing but his sadistic amusement, no doubt about it. I was likely a stray waifu from somewhere that he intends to capture on a later date. The likeliest scenario was Hevnokren had been doing an experiment about connecting the Hevnokrenite to a soul that wasn't his, and ended up giving me his memories. Now, he's setting me loose on the MCU for giggles.

I had to figure out a way to kill Hevnokren before he decides that he is bored of me. Because the only other way to live through all the events about to come while being this relatively weak to him was to drop to my knees in front of him and start sucking him off. For after all, the weak belonged wherever the strong decided to place them.

So, here I was.

No items, no waifus, no Sakaarian Fleet, no powers of the Infinity Stone, no control over steel, Vibranium, Uru or Hevnokrenite. Just a Dovahkiin with MCU knowledge that was being rapidly rendered obsolete. And now I had to figure out how to kill a Dragon God who did have all those things.

Fixing my slightly tattered dress, I hefted the Mace of Molag Bal off the ground- giving it a few practice swings in my smaller, feminine form.

"I'd better get started then." I grinned viciously.

But before I could start my bloody rampage across Earth, orange sparks appeared in thin air. Worryingly recognisable orange sparks that seemed to go around in a circle exactly like the magic portals from the Doctor Strange movie. And just a second later, my suspicions were proven right when the circle of sparks shimmered to show the courtyard of an asian temple. There, standing in the centre of said courtyard was a bald woman in yellow robes… smiling directly at me. The Ancient One. The mentor of Doctor Strange, and a very, very powerful mage.

"Nora, I presume?" She cordially half-asked and half-stated like she already knew the answer. All while sounding worryingly affectionate as if I was her newest best friend.

"I have come to strike a bargain with you, Miss Nora."

Oh, this should be interesting.

[A Manhattan apartment, New York City] (Four hours later)

"In tonight's 10 o'clock news… Archangel, the superheroine who had risen to fame healing the poor and homeless of the NYC boroughs has once again disappeared following her appearance alongside Iron Man at the Incident at the Stark Expo. Sources from within Stark Industries all deny their CEO's involvement with her disappearance. Meanwhile all over the world, the sick, disabled and dying are asking: 'Where are you, Archangel?'"

And as he listened to the news report from his tv, his hands shook uncontrollably. Partly due to the extensive nerve damage, but mostly due to how furious he was.

"Oh, come on! How hard is it to find a woman who flies around with golden energy wings?" He shouted- angry and desperate. "Why does she even do it? Cellular regeneration technology so advanced that it would put me and every other surgeon on earth out of business within six months, and she uses it to heal hobos and junkies!"

Letting his frustrated sigh glide through his apartment, he sat back down at his work table- staring directly at the tablet that was currently in a video call. And in one shaky hand, he clutched onto the brass plaque that he had taken from his office.

Dr. Stephen V. Strange

Neurosurgeon

He wasn't going to let this fall from his fingers too. Not this one.

"Like I've been trying to tell you for the past half hour, Stephen. I'm sorry…" His ex, his colleague, or his ex-colleague (or his-whatever the hell Dr. Christine Palmer was to him at the moment) whispered her apology in the video call, "But I really can't help you on this one."

"And there it is again, that god awful look of pity." Stephen pointed out with impatient disgust. "I don't need this right now."

He'd seen it a thousand times before from bleeding heart medical practitioners who get so wrapped up in the emotional welfare of their patients. Bedside manner was just a crutch that poor doctors use. A consolation prize that they hand out to patients as an 'I'm so sorry that I wasn't a good enough doctor to cure you.' So of course he'd never had to use it, because Dr. Stephen Strange had a perfect record. Unfortunately, not all doctors could be as good as him.

"Stephen… please be reasonable." she begged him with her eyes, "You're not the only one looking for her. The whole world is too, and no one is having any luck with it at all! And this crazy scheme to get in touch with Tony Stark just to get him to ask Archangel to heal your hands… It's a pipe dream at best! Maybe it's time to consider stopping. I mean- this doesn't have to be the end, there are other things that can give your life meaning."

He felt his lips curl into a snarl.

"That's easy for you to say seeing as it's not your future that's slipping from your fingers, Christine!" He furiously shouted at her, "Maybe if you actually cared more instead of letting that sorry excuse for a surgeon you're sleeping with operate on my hands, then maybe I wouldn't be in this position in the first place!"

"I think I'll let you cool off for a few days…" She muttered- looking everywhere but his eyes as she tiredly ran a hand through her hair. And it was only then did he realise how bad he sounded.

"No, Christine, wait! I didn't mean-"

"Goodnight, Stephen." She muttered, and the video call ended without another word.

A gentle knocking on the door preempted the tantrum that he was about to throw. And his photographic memory made him wary about it: No one he knew knocked like that, and he sure as hell didn't have the money to order anything at the moment. Cautiously, he approached the door of his apartment, and peered through the peephole. And on the other side of the door was a blonde girl around fourteen year old in a white frock dress- a worried expression on her pretty face as she was nervously wringing her hands. Thanks to his photographic memory, he didn't even need a second to recall that no one he knew had family her age.

"I'm not interested in girl scout cookies. Go away." He dismissed her- he couldn't even afford a cookie, much less a box of it, but as he watched through the door's peephole, he saw her steel-blue eyes lit up with something akin to hope at the sound of his voice.

"Dr. Stephen Strange? I need to speak with you." She spoke up. Her gentle voice tinged with just a touch of desperation. He would know- he hears it in his own voice more often nowadays.

"And who are you?" He said through the door.

"My name is Nora. I can help you- with your hands' condition, I mean." the blonde girl answered softly. And there was an earnest, and hopelessly naive look to her that made Strange want to trust her. So, he didn't.

"Liar." He enunciated right against the door so that she could hear him clearly call her out on her bullshit, "You look too young to have any kind of medical degree and this is coming from someone who took both his MD and PhD at the same time. Whatever you're selling, I don't want it."

He walked from the door and managed to make it to four steps before she spoke up again.

"Maybe I'm not…" her voice said through the door, "But can you afford to be wrong right now?"

His injured hands shaking against his sides told him the answer: No, he really couldn't.

"Let me help you, please." She continued, "Or at least, hear what I have to say before turning me away."

He couldn't believe he was doing this, but it was just a sign of how little options he had left (read: none at all). Sighing, he unlatched and unlocked the door- not caring that he was just in his pajamas. Standing at his door was a girl barely into her teens, maybe it was how short she was- just reaching to his chest; but Nora looked even younger face-to-face. However, he wasn't about to take it easy on her just for that fact.

"You have ten minutes to make your case, kid." He warned her, but that only seemed to make her relieved.

"Thank you, Dr. Strange…" She gave a small smile, "I only needed ten seconds, but that will give us time to talk."

And curiously, she also pulled a leather trunk behind her into his apartment like she was going on a flight.

"Well, if that's how it is…" he sighed as he sat down at his small kitchen table, and the girl followed suit- primly sitting across from him like an honour student in class. "...You can start with explaining who you are and why you're here, Nora."

"I'm just a girl with a special set of skills and nowhere else to go." She began. "As for the why. Well, I was approached by someone… Someone who has been looking out for you, Stephen. And in that meeting, we struck a bargain. To put it simply, I would help you realise what you are truly capable of- something that she can't do herself. And in return, she'll give me what I need to be… safe in this scary world."

"Who?" He immediately asked- his interest piqued, "Who's been looking out for me?"

"I can't say right now." Nora replied with pursed lips, "But she assured me that she will arrange a meeting for the two of you one day."

Then her steel-blue eyes glanced downwards at his heavily scarred hands, and her gaze softened.

"Uh… didn't your parents ever tell you that it's rude to stare at people's injuries?" He half-chastised her. He absolutely hated it when people stared at them, "Speaking of which, do your parents even know you're here talking with strangers with one of them literally named 'Strange'?"

"They're… in a better place, I presume." She softly said.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He replied and actually be sincere about it too. Because although he may never come around to wanting a kid, and although people can go on and on about how arrogant he was… he still felt sorry for kids when they've been given a crap hand- just like everyone else.

"When I first heard about this…" her gentle voice softly began, "I couldn't believe that it would happen this soon."

"What are you talking about?" He asked, and instead of answering, she reached out to him and gently took his scarred hand in both of her smaller, paler ones- earning a raised eyebrow from him.

"Your injury, your wake up call, or your karmic retribution… Whatever you want to label it as. It's a tragedy all the same." She earnestly whispered, "Because no matter what anyone else says about you, you've still helped a lot of people with these hands."

The corners of his mouth tugged into a semblance of a smile. The first time since the accident.

"You're goddamn right." he whispered back- inwardly glad that someone appreciated the impact that he had made in the field rather than whine about his attitude, "And I can help thousands more if my fingers ever become fully functional again. You said that you can help me with my hands somehow, Nora?"

And at his words, Nora just squeezed his hand again- just a bit tighter this time. Softly and warmly… with a tenderness that was in line with what he knew of Nora so far: a gentle young girl who has just been caught up in whatever machinations his opportunistic 'benefactor' had cooked up.

"Two." her soft voice finally whispered.

"Excuse me?"

"You have ten fingers." she clarified, "Choose which two that you'd like for me to heal right now."

"Right now? This is ridiculous…" He muttered, even as his heart rate rose in fragile hope and he extended his thumb and index finger as much as his injury would allow him. However… How many nights had he spent hoping for just this sort of miraculous and borderline miraculous solution as he grasped at failed experimental treatment after failed experimental treatment? Too many. And so, beyond all expectations he had, she did not pull out a syringe or start chanting, instead, it came without any fanfare: Her palms glowed a white light and he felt the pain in his own hand partially recede.

"Is that… Archangel's cellular regeneration tech?" he whispered with wide eyes that were trying and failing to comprehend the medical process occuring right in front of his eyes.

"It's a spell called [Healing Hands]." She muttered in response- her steel-blue eyes narrowed in concentration before the light dwindle and she sighed.

"A spell? Really?" He couldn't help but parrot incredulously. More likely, she just thought it was magic. Ordinary people were always baffled by advanced technology. If he didn't know that Archangel's tech was based on science, he would have come to the assumption that it was magic too. Maybe.

"I won't force you to believe…" Nora gave an understanding smile as she let go of his hand, "But at least… you can use your thumb and index finger again. That has to count for something, right?"

And she was right- it sure did count for something. Just his most fervent dreams come true, nothing major. He flexed both his thumb and index finger- extending them as far as he could and pressing them together as hard as he could… no pain at all.

"The recurrent branches of my median nerves… the tendons of my extensor indicis and pollicis longus… all functioning like they've never been damaged." He whispered, his own eyes wide in awe. His hand still shook, and he tried for the rest of his fingers and promptly winced as he found that they were indeed still severed. But still… that was two more fingers healed than he had expected when he woke up today.

"How…?" his mouth began to ask before his thoughts caught up, "No wait, what am I saying? Of course, that can't be anything other than Archangel's tech. The question that I should be asking is 'How much for the rest of my fingers?'"

"The cost?" Nora repeated with a confused look, "They are more like conditions than anything else… first is that you have to learn how to do something akin to what I just did to your fingers. Your benefactor has lended me all the material needed for me to teach you."

His eyes flew wide open in surprise.

"You're offering Archangel's…" he said with suddenly dry lips, "Is my benefactor… Archangel herself?"

"Even if she was, I would not be able to confirm it because of the bargain." she apologised.

"Fine, I'll keep guessing." he conceded- he wasn't about to get anything else out of her for now, "You can hand me the materials later, it'll be quick study. What's the second condition?"

Then Nora adopted a hesitant and embarrassed look.

"The second condition is… that you adopt me."

"W-what?" he choked on thin air.

"I-it wasn't my idea!" Nora hurriedly clarified- her cheeks red with embarrassment, "Your benefactor was the one who suggested it!"

Then her expression wilted into a vulnerable one- her downcast eyes staring at the table between them.

"But… I'll be honest and admit that I have nowhere else to go and no one to turn to." her soft voice whispered slightly afraid, "She told me many amazing things about you. How you save lives on a daily basis, how you're the greatest neurosurgeon the world has ever seen, and how you're going to help thousands more people in the future… And honestly, it's more than a bit intimidating how great you are. I don't think I'd be a good enough daughter to you…"

And Stephen didn't know if it was because she was the one who had given him real, tangible hope of getting his life back, or because no one had ever been so candid and so… earnest in how they looked up to him. But all the same, it made him feel a pang of sympathy for this girl.

He knew that Nora wouldn't last a week homeless and alone in New York if he said no, the girl was just too damn gentle for this city. And it didn't take a genius like him to figure out that the condition of him adopting Nora was probably his benefactor's attempt at making sure that Nora was taken care of while she taught him 'magic.' Maybe his secret benefactor wasn't a total scumbag who manipulates naive adolescents and desperate people into shady deals after all.

And besides, as far as prices to pay to get his career and his sense of self-worth back… Adopting a thoughtful and gentle-hearted girl who had just offered him the 'magical' solution that he had been desperately searching for didn't seem that steep of a price.

"It will take a while before I can get all the paperwork in order, but…" He smiled at her- meeting her steel-blue eyes that were widening in surprise. "I guess I'm going to have a daughter from now on. And people say that you can choose your friends, but never your family…"

Her trembling soft hands found his larger, scarred ones again. And their eyes met, her steel-blue meeting his blue-green.

"Thank you for taking me in…" Nora beamed a brilliant smile at him- unshed tears glittering in her eyes as her shaky voice breathed, "Any girl would be lucky to have you as their father, Stephen."

The earnest gratitude in her voice made his heart twinge slightly with heavy emotion. Honestly… it was like she was doing this on purpose at this point. Hell, he didn't even know the first thing he should do as Nora's father…

[Queens, New York City] (24 hours later)

"...I think I should call the boys in blue for this sicko."

Peter (or Spider-man while he's in this drip) took one more glance at the crime scene.

"Yup, definitely a job for their professional coroners instead of the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man." Peter muttered to himself, "There isn't much else I can do at this point aside from tell them to bring a mop and bucket for these guys."

Six bodies in an alleyway, brutally broken in ways that made his stomach turn. One guy looked like he was beaten until his insides burst out. Two guys had their faces slammed together so hard their skulls caved in. Another guy died trying to reattach his severed 'nads back to his crotch. One was lying down on his back with his brains splattered far down the alley like someone played golf with his face. And the last poor dude was forcefully sodomised with a metal baseball bat, stomped in so deep that the tip was sticking out of his toothless mouth.

"Just as hella gruesome as the last one…" Peter muttered as he looked at the scene while hanging from above- careful not to disturb the crime scene. "Still looking like a mugging gone horribly wrong judging by the scattered necklace chains and the pockets turned inside out. But whoever did this didn't take the dime bags of drugs, so it can't be a rival drug gang."

"All this brutal violence for a few grand at most." He muttered. "And this is the second time in what? Just under two days? The blood still looks a bit wet too- so, it's been less than two hours since this massacre happened. The murderer might still be in the area if he hadn't driven off in a car already."

But what worried him the most was how this was just a block away from his own apartment. Maybe he should ask Aunt May to be home earlier at night until the sicko who did this is caught by the police?

With a slick 'thwip' sound, he shot a webline and began the worryingly short trip home. Hurriedly, he stopped at his designated 'changing room' - a relatively clean and private place in an alleyway just a minute away from his apartment building. And after doing a quick, well-practiced change back into his civilian grey hoodie and jeans, he jogged back home just in time to find an unexpected vehicle parked on the curb just outside the apartment building: A delivery truck with the words 'Trust a Bro Moving Company' on its side.

"Someone's finally moving into the Murphy's old apartment?" He wondered out loud. The Murphys used to live in the apartment right across from his, so he was definitely curious as to who was moving into it. It was just a two bedroom apartment, just like his and Aunt May's so it shouldn't be a big family. And specifically because of the grisly murders a few hours ago, the property values dropped like a brick. Whoever moved in picked both a good and bad time to rent an apartment here.

And as he marched on inside and waited for the elevator going up- a stack of boxes and a leather trunk sat right next to the elevator doors.

"Oh, these must be the new family's stuff. I bet they'd appreciate some help carrying th-"

But whatever thought he had was erased by the girl he found himself face-to-face with. A gentle beauty through and through. Silky ash-blonde hair bounced past her slender shoulders, expressive steel-blue eyes inset in a pretty heart-shaped face. Smooth cheeks tinged pink with a healthy blush, and soft pink lips. She was wearing a pretty white outfit that seemed to hide her figure, but from the graceful outline of her clingy white stockings on her slender legs was anything to go by…

Peter gulped nervously- already coaching himself not to embarrass himself in front of this cute girl.

Don't babble like an idiot. Don't babble like an idiot. Don't babble like an idiot.

"Oh, uh, hi!" He flashed his most charming smile, "Y-you must be the family that's moving into the apartment just across mine. I mean, your family, you're not a family on your own! That wouldn't make any sense at all, ahahah! Uh, I'm Peter Parker. It's nice to meet you!"

Nailed it.

She stared at him with an unsure expression for a second or two before she broke out in a soft giggle that sounded like tinkling bells. It was a beautiful sound.

"It's good to meet you, Peter!" the blonde chirped with a smile, "I'm Nora. Nora Strange."

Then her eyes glanced at the stack of boxes just beside him.

"Can you hold the elevator door open for me while I load my things?" She smiled.

"Oh, uh let me help you with that!" He volunteered as he hefted the pile of boxes and leather trunk in his arms and stepped onto the elevator to stand right beside her- earning an impressed 'Oh' from her. And inwardly, Peter can't help but cheer. One of the perks of being Spider-man: he gets to impress people with his spider strength.

"Uh, so if you don't mind me asking." He tried to casually get to know her, "Where are you moving from?"

"Manhattan." she replied in a carefree tone, "The rent was too high, but this place looks just as nice. So far, the people are more open and a lot friendlier here in Queens too!"

"Yeah, they are." He nodded sincerely, "We help each other around here. A real community of good people."

"A real community of good people…? That sounds nice." her melodic voice softly repeated, and she smiled brightly at him. "I guess I'll do my part then! I'll be baking a peach mango pie as part of a house-warming celebration tomorrow, and your Aunt May already said yes to my invitation. But I'd like to extend the invitation to you too. Would you like to join us, Peter? I'm confident about my baking- I promise that it will be delicious."

"I love peach mango pie!" he answered- trying to match her smile. No, he actually didn't love peach mango. He preferred the all-American apple pie, but he wasn't about to say no to a cute girl's friendly invitation. And she met Aunt May already? It's good that she is home right now. His aunt loved anything that was fruity, pastry, and fruity pastry.

"You do? That's perfect!" Nora smiled brilliantly. "The grocer down the road was kind enough to give the peaches and mangoes for free as a 'Welcome to the neighbourhood' gift. It was so thoughtful!"

"Oh, that's nic-"

Peter froze mid-sentence. He knew exactly which grocer Nora was referring to…

"Say, Nora, when was this?" he asked as innocuously as he could.

… that grocer was the same one that was just beside the alley where that gruesome murders occured.

"Just an hour and a half ago." she hummed, "I had to rush because I have to help unpack too. Is something wrong?"

"N-nothing's wrong." he lied and forced a smile to his face, "About that grocer… they get their shipments from the farms in the early Wednesday mornings like tomorrow, so if you want to get them really fresh, that's the time to do it."

"Oh, thanks for the advice!"

That sicko mass murderer was still on the loose, and- for all he knew- might still be close by.

Peter glanced at Nora- who promptly noticed his stare and amiably smiled back at him. Of course, he returned the smile- acting like nothing was wrong as they waited for the elevator to reach their floor.

He had to protect people like her.

Nora must have been just a few minutes away from witnessing a gruesome murder of six people when she was out buying fruits, and that murderer didn't sound like the type to leave witnesses. This was why he was the friendly neighbourhood Spider-man, he had the power to prevent bad things from happening to good people. And now with Nora and her family here, he had yet another reason in making sure that the neighbourhood was safe from that mass murderer. He had to think of a way to tell them to keep safe without scaring them off- especially since they had just moved in.

"La~ da-da-da-da~... da!" Nora softly hummed- idly filling the silence between them with a gentle melody. Even as the elevator doors opened and they disembarked, he didn't want to interrupt her humming that Peter found beautiful.

Was this his chance?

Because after having his life filled up with the presence of so many 'milfs', an attractive girl his age was like a breath of fresh air. Don't get him wrong, milfs were nice to look at and all, but he preferred to keep things realistic. A mature and professional lady going for a long-term relationship with someone half her age? An outlandish fantasy at best, a waste of the best years of his life at worst. He'd rather go for a real girl his age for a real chance at happiness, not a pipe dream.

So, a gentle girl-next-door kind of girl who is also an incredibly cute blonde? He didn't think much of fate or destiny, but this seemed suspiciously like one or the other.

Nora had just arrived into the neighbourhood too. It was a clean slate, a fresh start. And better yet, he was the first guy she'd talk to after moving in and into the apartment right across his. It was straight out of a romance movie. Was this the universe telling him that springtime finally come to his love life? Maybe one of his powers as Spider-man is to be lucky with girls? Who knows? Who cares?! One thing's for sure: he wasn't going to let this potential romance story slip past him.

So he made a quiet promise to himself, and to the girl beside him.

'Nora Strange, I'm going to get you to agree to be my girlfriend!'

And as they rounded the corner to the hallway of their apartments, they were greeted with the sight of his Aunt May talking animatedly with an older man who Peter figured would be Nora's father or older brother.

"...And here they both are!" Aunt May gestured to them both with a smile.

"Ms. May." Nora greeted back with a smile as Peter gently placed Nora's things right by their door.

"Oh Nora, what did I say before?" His aunt gently chided her, "Please call me Aunt May too, and I see you two ran into each other."

"Peter was kind enough to help me with my things, father." Nora shared to them- earning a stare directed straight at him courtesy of Nora's dad. Oh no… was he going to give him the mandatory 'Stay away from my daughter' speech now?

Regardless, he mustered up his courage, stepping up to the older man to extend a hand.

"Mr. Strange, sir. I'm Peter Parker." He introduced himself.

"It's Doctor Strange." the older man tersely corrected him, and Peter's extended hand was ignored.

"He's a neurosurgeon, Peter!" Aunt May excitedly added her two cents. And at a second glance, Peter recalled just where he'd heard of a 'Dr. Strange' before.

"Oh! I thought you looked familiar!" he mentioned, "I've watched your interviews on CNN about using transected spinal cords and stimulating neurogenesis in the central nervous system, sir. It's groundbreaking!"

Dr. Strange's raised eyebrow told Peter that the doctor wasn't used to being recognised by the younger generations.

"Certainly is." the older man gave a proud smile. "The Strange Technique is going to save thousands of lives in the future. The… Strange Procedure? I'm still coming up with the name. Anyway, it's refreshing to meet someone your age who keeps up to date about medical advancements. Are you looking to get into medicine, Peter?"

"Oh, I'm just interested in any advancements in the STEM fields in general, sir. I'm still considering what I want to take. I had thought about it to be honest, but I'm not comfortable making a decision so early, sir."

The older man hummed approvingly, his blue eyes looking at him with what Peter hoped was more favourably than before.

"Call me, Stephen." he allowed with a small smile before turning his attention to Aunt May. "Well, if you'll excuse us, we have a lot of unpacking to do."

And with that, he walked into their new apartment- leaving the three of them behind in the hallway. Well, that went better than he first thought it would. Why is it that every sweet and kind girl just has to have a strict and demanding father? He thought that was something that only happens in movies and tv shows!

"Thanks again for the help, Peter." Nora chirped as she began dragging her stuff inside. "I'll knock on your door when the peach-mango pie is ready."

"Yeah, no prob… looking forward to it." he smiled back. And just as she was about to close the door to her apartment, he called out to her, "Hey, Nora?"

"Mhm?"

"You have a beautiful singing voice." He said- completely honestly too.

"Thank you!" Nora smiled brilliantly back at him before retreating back into her apartment. …Looks like his compliment was well appreciated. He took a mental note of it too: 'Likes music and/or singing' and placed it in a special mental folder labelled 'Nora'. Alright, progress already!

And just as their door clicked shut, Aunt May stood closer to him, arms crossed and an approving smirk on her lips as they both went inside their apartment as well.

"Real smooth, kiddo. I'd score that an 8/10 - Didn't think you had it in you." she ribbed approvingly, "It would have been a 9/10 if you remembered to ask her number. But we'll be having her homemade dessert with them tomorrow, so that'll be your chance."

"Got it. I'll ask her then. Thanks, Ma-" Peter nodded, then his eyes flew wide open at what he had just inadvertently admitted to his aunt.

"I mean! I don't know what you're talking about!" he tried to deflect it, "I'm just making friends. That's all!"

"'Making friends!'" May laughed out loud- still wearing that teasing smile, "Oh Peter, no one's buying that. You have it in for her pretty bad; and you can't exactly hide it."

"Er… was I that obvious?" he conceded before a sudden realisation made dread fill his stomach, "Wait… do you think Nora noticed it too?"

"No doubt about it." His aunt confirmed with a casual shrug, "But don't take that as a rejection- or worse- as a signal from her wanting to be your girlfriend already. It just means that she might be interested. It'll be up to you to turn that 'might be interested' into 'definitely interested'."

She sighed gently as she looked at him, a proud smile on her lips.

"Oh, my little Peter is growing up so fast." She cooed, "You have always been so focused on your studies and your photography hobby that I thought you just weren't interested in romance at all. This calls for a glass of wine!"

"Aunt May, I don't think that's a good idea…" He warned- remembering the last time that his lightweight aunt drank some.

"Pshaw, it's alright, I'm not going to overdo it. Again."

(Later that night)

His Aunt May overdid it. Again.

"Peter~" His Aunt May whined as she leaned on his shoulder. Her swaying hand was trying to pour herself another glass from an empty bottle and almost succeeded in smashing it against his head when she lost her balance.

And he can only sigh. Here we go again…

"I know Nora's very pretty, but you have to keep yourself from staring so blatantly next time." She half-advised and half-belched into his face, "But, I wish the good doctor would stare at me like that though. He's got that mysterious broken bird vibe rolling off of him like no one's beeswax. Mmmmm~"

"I think you've had enough wine tonight, May." He sighed again as he gently pried the empty wine bottle out of her hand. "At least it's just the two of us this time. The last time you were this drunk was exactly when all those milf rumours started about you."

"What's wrong with that?" the grown woman pouted, "I take that as a compliment. I'm still attractive! I'm in my twenties after all. Late twenties, but it still counts! And why are you picking on your auntie? I remember being your age, and I wasn't as mean to my aunt as you are, Peter. Just because you got a girl in your sights doesn't mean you're a better man, you know?"

Then her smile turned teasing as devilish as she leaned in close.

"Mmmm… speaking of her, Nora makes those white tights of hers look amazing, don't they? Makes you wonder how the rest of her looks when you finally get to slide that dress off and peel those tights off of her?" she whispered into his ear like she was tempting him with suggestive mental images of his newest crush. But his Aunt May wasn't done tormenting him yet.

"And that ribbon on the front of her dress can't completely hide what she's packing… Every girl can only wish they had a bust like that at that age. Whaddya think, Peter? Which part of her do you prefer?"

He actually hadn't thought too hard about it, but he felt like he was obligated to say that he preferred 'a girl with legs' just for the spider reference. But May continued to drunkenly ramble without his input though.

"You know… I knew a lot of girls who were like Nora back in college." she recounted to him, "Good little girls from the midwest raised on traditional values, and every single one of them were all the same. What was the saying again? Ah, right. 'Lady on the streets, Freak between the sheets.' So when you finally land that cute girl, Peter; you'd better be ready 'cuz you're in for a wild ride~"

'Just ignore her.' Peter told himself- all while ruthlessly squashing down some very inappropriate thoughts about a girl he had just met.

"Don't worry though, your Aunt Maybelle has got your back!" she cheered, "We'll get your girl-next-door 'singing' for you in no time. I used to be the best Wingwoman in my college, you know? I was half the reason why your Uncle Ben was called 'Ben Thundercock' during our college days. And it wasn't just because he had a huge d-"

"Not listening! Not listening!" He cried out- stuffing a fingertip into each ear as he marched to his room- the talk about his late uncle's sexual prowress evaporating whatever arousal he had. He'll let his Aunt May to drunkenly celebrate on her own.

Peter didn't think he could look Nora in the eye after this though. He had to wonder what Nora was doing right now though… was she thinking about him too?

(Meanwhile) [In the other apartment]

At first, it had been confusing when the Ancient One herself came to me with an interesting bargain.

Train Doctor Strange up to be the Sorcerer Supreme, and in exchange, she'll supply me all the magic tomes I asked.

The Ancient One had also readily admitted why she couldn't do it herself: She knew that Hevnokren would see her if she tried. Apparently, she had the ability to detect magical attempts at locating her which wasn't surprising given how experienced she was at being Sorcerer Supreme. She could and had detected attempts before and Hevnokren's Skyrim [Clairvoyance] spell latching onto someone, Doctor Strange was no exception. Fearing for herself and the sanctums- she hid everything and everyone behind the magic-obscuring barriers of her fortress.

It was an easy way to defeat Hevnokren's sight apparently.

Because although Hevnokren was completely reliant on the Clairvoyance spell to locate and track all the waifus and husbandos on earth, he had neglected to sufficiently upgrade it. I knew for a fact that the spell has difficulty locating people who possessed any degree of magical resistance. People like the Ancient One who were under the protection of her magical fortress, Kamar-Taj, were some of the few that fell under that category.

And the Ancient One seemed to have figured out that weakness of the metal dragon as well.

Either leaving the fortress or bringing Strange into Kamar-Taj for training would have been noticed by the metal dragon, the Ancient One had reasoned. And Hevnokren would have focused all his attention into destroying the magic fortress down to its constituent atoms for the threat it posed to him. Better to hide away and pretend that they had gone the way of the TVA: closed until further notice. Though I doubt she knew of their existence, the strategy was the same.

In their isolation, the Ancient One had been desperate to find a proxy through whom she could act. And that was where I came in.

A magically-capable anomaly that was a proven enemy of Hevnokren.

She would teach me and I would teach Dr. Strange. It was amusing how quickly she came to almost regret the bargain when she handed me a tome only for me to absorb its content. She likely thought that it would take a few years, but instead took me minutes. It's been a while since I learned new spells: Skyrim's College of Winterhold and the constant purchasing of many Master-level spell tomes seems like a lifetime ago now.

But in the end, the bargain is what it is.

The Ancient One will get her Sorcerer Supreme to protect Earth, and I'll get the location of the Lost Library of Cagliostro. The largest collection of written magical knowledge anywhere in the MCU. And one half of my victory against Hevnokren. I only needed a single day to absorb the entire sum of magical knowledge stored there. The metal dragon god of Sakaar was too focused on researching the Infinity Stones that he had forgotten to pillage existing research from the neighbours. And it will become his undoing, I'll ensure it myself.

And the first step was right here: Playing the perfect daughter to Doctor Strange, and instructing him in the Mystic Arts in the comfort of our sparsely-furnitured living room.

Scant yellow sparks appeared in empty air as I watched Doctor Strange move his hand in a wide circle.

And still in my white frock dress, my dainty frame stood at his side- observing him and making certain that he was progressing.

The sparks were not many at all, but they were there. A testament to his natural skill in the mystic arts. And yet, he didn't look satisfied with that.

Because, ever the narcissist, Doctor Strange was considerably more receptive to being taught magic when it was by someone who shared his last name... Just as the Ancient One predicted.

"This isn't working!" he growled in frustration, "All I can do is conjure some sparks like a cheap magician at a birthday party."

"You've made excellent progress, Stephen." my soft voice cheered 'my father' on with a gentle smile. "You have already achieved in a few hours what everyone else would have taken days. If this was a college ranking, you'd be in the highest percentile. One of the most gifted in history, in fact."

As always, being lauded as one of the best seemed to mollify him.

"Thanks, Nora." he sighed as he stood up from the table, "I'm going to go try the shower, and see if this place actually has hot water as advertised."

"I'll prepare some sandwiches just in case you feel hungry in the middle of the night." I chirped, already putting on a cheery pink apron. "What kind of sandwich would you like?"

"A tuna sandwich would be appreciated." He yawned as he shambled off for that shower.

"Okay!"

Humming soft tune as I began preparing the sandwiches, I thought about the best way go out and murder more drug dealers to use their souls to fuel my enchanting. I would have preferred to get souls from farther away from my current home, but the lack of soul gems made enchanting my gear right where I kill my enemies a necessity.

From my last two incursions, the ten dealers and their souls were instrumental in fuelling the enchantments on my clothes: The basic Health, Stamina and Magicka Regen package. Poison-Resist and Water-Breathing to avoid embarrassing deaths. Magic resist to avoid those pesky magical instant-kill attacks that were common in the MCU. The Skyrim spells [Greater Ward] and [Ebonyflesh] weaved into my clothes to give me considerable resistance to a bullet to the head. And my own [Clairvoyance] spell to detect anyone currently looking at me in a wide area.

More situational gear for specific events would be ideal- like an enchantment that automatically teleports me to safety if I go unconscious, or an automatic magical shield that adapted to whatever damage I was taking. For after all, the many threats that the MCU holds were not to be taken lightly.

But things are only problems when you lack the tools to deal with them.

The Ancient One doesn't fully understand what she had just set into motion when she supplied me with magic tomes outlining spells and rituals. MCU magic was versatile in some ways while rigid in others- combining it with Skyrim enchanting made them compensate for each other's shortcomings very well. And altogether, it was proving to be an incredibly productive endeavour. And it only incentivised me to go out there and practise my enchanting, which involved tearing out the souls of more New York lowlifes. Maybe I'll 'politely ask' them where they're hiding most of their ill-gotten money too while I was at it.

And as I was lost in my thoughts, a half naked Doctor Strange stepped into the living room, hair all wet and clad in just a blue bathrobe.

"Nora, can you make some coffee?" he groaned- clearly in a bad mood..

"Already did!" I cheerily winked while pouring and handing him a mug.

"You're a lifesaver, Nora." The good doctor replied with a small smile- his mood already lifting. Which was to be expected, because when a cute girl smiles at you and offers you coffee, it's hard not to smile in return. And he proved to be no exception to the charming and innocent smile his always helpful 'daughter' had.

"No, that's you, Stephen." I softly reassured him, "I hope you don't mind… But I want us to be a bit more comfortable living with each other before I move on to calling you 'father.' "

"Well, it would be pretty awkward right now…" he began, taking a sip from his coffee with his 'recovering' hands, "But I think we're off to a good start, Nora Strange."

And I gave him my most brilliant smile.

"I'll do my best to make the name proud." my soft voice earnestly said.

"And something tells me that you will." He replied- smiling along and completely ignorant to the 'fun' that I was going to have tomorrow.

"We're lacking in a lot of healthier ingredients, so I'll definitely go grocery shopping early tomorrow." I relayed my alibi to him. I can't keep killing indiscriminately and not expect the authorities to catch on, so hopefully, this will be my last 'grocery shopping' for a while. But half-unexpectedly, Doctor Strange dropped the smile and adopted a gravely serious expression- his hand reaching out to hold mine in a firm grip.

"Nora… Be careful when you go out tomorrow." he warned me- a hard glint in blue-green eyes, "This isn't Manhattan, the gang violence is through the roof here. Not to worry you or anything, but there were dead gang members just a block from here."

I don't think it will ever stop being amusing at how he worries for me like I was a fragile little girl.

Well, I certainly wasn't worried about it- butchering those lowlifes was cathartic. And to think, I had been ready to give them all a quick death because I was in a bit of a rush. But they just had to do the cliche kidnapping/rape threat, so I had decided to have my own fun. My favourite part was stomping that guy's own baseball bat into his anus. I didn't know that trying to push a blunt object through internal organs required that much force!

"Don't worry. I have my magic." I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as I smiled up at him, "But thank you for your concern regardless, Stephen…"

It's amazing how many brutal murders you can get away with when you're a cute girl with a cheerful and friendly disposition.

[A car somewhere in New York]

Klee wiggled excitedly on the comfy leather seat.

She had just been playing around school when people she didn't know went up to her and asked her if she wanted yummy food, but she had to get in their funny spaceship that only moves on the ground called a 'car.' Of course, she said yes! People on Sakaar always did that. It was a bit weird how they kept kneeling and talking about 'Tribute to our Goddess of Destruction!', but the food was always yummy, so Klee was always excited when this happened.

There were five other people in the car with her. Four big burly men with two sitting at either side of her, and a skinny brown-skinned guy in a suit sitting right across from her.

"Yes, sir. We have Klee…" Skinny suit guy talked into his cellphonie. "No, sir. The retrieval went smoothly, no hiccups at all: Scattered and distracted witnesses. Malfunctioning security cameras. Switched license plates… Yes, sir. Miss Schmidt should still be in the middle of her class… Yes, sir. The child is behaving, and we'll keep making her behave."

Then he gestured to the big, burly men in black sitting at either side of her. One of them pulled out something from a paper bag, and Klee's eyes widened.

"Wooww… Stark Raving Hazelnuts ice cream, Klee's favourite! Gimme gimme!"

Then Klee froze as she realised something was wrong.

"Uh… please gimme?" She added, hoping that they won't tell Johanna that she forgot to say her please and thank you. The big, burly man- tub of ice cream still in his hairy hands- looked at her and then back at the skinny suit guy.

"Sir, why can't we just shut her u-"

"Do you want to deal with high-pitched screaming shortly followed by a messy assortment of bodily waste all over these nice leather seats, new hire?" the skinny suit guy said impatiently. "Because that's what children do in these situations."

"No, sir..."

"Then give the child her ice cream." Skinny suit guy ordered, "Amateurs, I swear…"

And just like that, he handed her the yummy tub of ice cream and even gave her a metal spoon for it.

"Thank you, big burly man #1!" she grinned up at him. "Aw, it's alright to be frowny. All you gotta do is follow orders, do your best, and don't ask questions unless it's the opposite of older orders. Do that and you get really rewarded and it'll make you smile big. At least, that's what Hev keeps telling my assistants."

Skinny suit guy snorted.

"See? Even a child knows it." He agreed, "That goes for all of you. I do not need to remind you who handles the wire transfers to your accounts."

And the big, burly man #1 looked like he was thinking it over, which was fine with Klee because she was busy shovelling the yummy ice cream into her mouth. Hopefully, there will be more delicious food where they were heading. That was how it was back in Sakaar at least. The Sakaarians would take her to someplace full of lit candles and weird smelling incense stuff, and have her sit down on a pedestal. And they'd do weird prayers and sing praises like she was an archon while they give her lots of treats!

"Acknowledged, sir." Skinny suit guy talked into his cellphonie again, "We'll arrive in a few minutes with the child…"

They were almost there?! She would start cheering for that if her mouth wasn't stuffed full with yummy ice cream, and Johanna always said not to talk with her mouth full. Maybe she should give whoever is in charge a mini Super Jumpy Dumpty as thanks? She had lots of extra in her backpack after all.

[Black Widow Base a.k.a. 'The Red Room', Siberian airspace]

Lorelei, Asgardian Queen of the Black Widows (At least until she can think of a better name), raised a graceful eyebrow as a magic portal-door opened right here in her command room/Throne room. How odd… There was no scheduled report from the Black Widows supposed to happen within the next half-hour. So, it must be…

"Ah, an unexpected development!" She smiled with a clap of her hands, "How interesting!"

Sitting up from her gold-gilded snow-white lounging couch, she allowed the Black Widows attending her to fix her red hair and straighten her green dress. Like a graceful flock of leather-clad swans, they descended upon her with combs, brushes, perfumes and oils. For after all, a queen must always look the part when going about her duties, as is only right. Also, Hev may conduct a… conjugal visit at any moment, and it pays to always look ravishing.

Moreover, she recognised the Black Widow who had arrived. The slender blonde with the aristocratic cheekbones and the leather bike jacket was one of the Black Widows charged with ensuring the safety of Hev's little family on earth.

"Black Widow #L-314 reporting a development outside of anticipated mission tolerances, Madame Enchantress." The Black Widow informed her, "Eighteen minutes and forty seconds ago, a group of five men in a black SUV approached and picked up Primary-2 and are currently leaving the city borders."

"Primary-2… that's Klee, isn't it?" Lorelei hummed in interest. "Eighteen minutes ago? Why only now?"

"Reporting was withheld until Primary-2 exited the permitted 40km wander-radius from Primary-1, Ma'am."

"Hmmm.. did it look like she was unwilling?" She asked- casually with a toss of her red hair, "And was she unarmed?"

"Negative and negative, ma'am." the Black Widow readily replied, "Primary-2 appeared eager and elated as she entered the vehicle. Primary-2 was also still in possession of her backpack of hand-held tactical nukes."

"Then it's probably just Hev playing his games." Lorelei nodded in conclusion, "After all, no one in the known universe is both witless and foolhardy enough to kidnap Klee of all people. Refocus on Johanna's security, we'll leave Klee in the care of Hev's minions."

"Primary-1 does not seem aware of the current development. Should we inform her?"

"No need to get in between Hev and his games." Lorelei dismissed, "Hev certainly does enjoy vexing Johanna. You know what they say about how they say boys tease girls they like… How very mortal of him!"

"Affirmative. Adjusting mission parameters to prioritise the security of Primary-1."

And with that, the Black Widow fell silent and Lorelei was free to continue reading the reports from the other Black Widows.

And oh how she loved this part of her work!

Seduction had always been her strong suit, and Hev was aware of that. So, he made it into one of her responsibilities. Her beloved dragon god had brought to her a long list of women that he would like to… sample, and it was her duty to weave a magnificent tapestry of events and happenstance that would have them on their hands and knees before her beloved dragon god. Because if seduction was a complex artform, then she was the master of the art. By the time she is done with them, these Midgardian women will all be pliable little tarts for Hev as they vainly wrestled with their burning want and teetered on the precipice over a roiling ocean of desire.

And she would be there to watch Hev give them that final push.

"What fun!" She tittered. This was all the entertainment an Asgardian goddess like herself could ask for.

And looking at a report from a Black Widow, one was near ripe already. An adorable little thing with luxurious brown hair, soft skin, pouty kissable lips, and slender body with all the curves that any Asgardian woman would not be ashamed to have. Of course, this Midgardian woman could not compare to her own grandeur, but still, an appetising gift for Hev to unwrap. She was a clever little Midgardian pauper that Lorelei was to lock away in a far away tower. A place where her only companions will be the stars themselves, all so that a mighty prince can come and save her… never knowing that- in truth- it was a dragon in the guise of a prince all along.

At least, that was what Hev originally planned, but that would take too long. And after all, Lorelei was always looking to exceed expectations. And glancing at the dossier of the Midgardian pauper, she had a good grasp on just what kind of woman the pauper is, and what would be the best way to make her a willing receptacle for Hev's lusts.

She glanced over to the blonde Black widow still standing at attention.

"I think I have a better task for you…" Lorelei smiled maliciously.

"Black Widow #L-314 prepared to receive new orders, Madame Enchantress!" the blonde saluted with a crisp click of her heels.

"You are to aid in the seduction of this pauper." Lorelei commanded as she made the dossier levitate to the Black Widow's hands, "Your name-in-guise will now be 'Leia.' A Frenchwoman I believe would be appropriate. I'll allow the others to handle the details of your background, but you will be there to… compete for Hev's affections."

"Am I to have sexual relations with Hevnokren, Madame?"

"Oh, you will not be there for Hev." Lorelei smiled. "He can have you and the rest of my Black Widows whenever and however he likes after all. Instead, you would be there to… rouse the pauper. Because in the absence of want and passion, envy and jealousy worked just as well to drive women to surrender themselves into the arms of men."

"Je suis prêt, Madame!" 'Leia' affirmed in that perfect 'French' tongue as she handed back the dossier, the name starkly printed onto its face.

'Foster, Jane.'

Such a plain name, even for a Midgardian pauper.

How terribly amusing.

- Chapter 22: The Burned End -

Chapter 23: On the Galactic Collision Course, Part 1 soon.

…

L