Marvel: Shadow Monarch

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Marvel: Shadow Monarch

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.....

One week later.

I lay on my cell, staring at the familiar ceiling tiles as my body recovered from today's daily quest.

The routine had become second nature by now—two hundred of each exercise, quest completion notification, rewards claimed. Rinse and repeat.

Sixty-four stat points.

That's what I had accumulated over the past week, sitting unused in my system interface.

The daily quest rewards were consistent: three stat points, a random loot box, and full status recovery for completing the minimum requirements.

But the real prize came from pushing past the hundred-rep limit—an additional three stat points and what the system called a "cursed loot box."

The cursed boxes had been surprisingly generous, giving me anywhere from three to five extra stat points daily.

I wasn't complaining about the bonus, but the name made me nervous.

Nothing good ever came from items labeled "cursed" in any game or story I'd encountered.

Plus, I do not remember how it worked in the original novel.

The regular loot boxes were... random, to put it mildly.

A pizza, an umbrella, a flashlight, a regeneration spray, and other oddities that were stored in the system inventory.

The inventory gave full game-like vibes and had me excited for a second.

The pizza was still in the inventory. I wanted to taste it so badly after eating bland food for so long, but I could not pull it out of practically nowhere under this surveillance.

Despite the growing pile of stat points, I hadn't invested any of them yet. This wasn't a game where I could afford to make mistakes with my build.

Every point needed to count when it came time to break out of here.

Strength for breaking through walls? Agility for speed and evasion? Mana for Mana reserves and regeneration?

The decision felt overwhelming. These points represented the difference between a successful escape and getting gunned down in the hallway.

Three times this week, they'd dragged me off to their labs for "routine testing,"—which mostly involved taking enough blood samples to supply a small hospital and running me through various physical assessments. 

But the system's ability to display other people's stats had turned those sessions into intelligence-gathering opportunities.

The researchers were exactly what I'd expected—physically weak with stats hovering around 4-5 points each. They would be helpless in a direct confrontation, unless they secured a weapon.

The soldiers were more concerning as their physical stats averaged 8-9 points across the board. Trained, competent, but not superhuman.

One thing that was common to everyone was that their Mana stat was at 0.

I could probably handle them if it were only a physical fight, as my stats were around double what they had, but there were variables, as they were in quite a number, and they had guns.

The real shock had come when I'd managed to catch sight of the Sentinels during one of my transfers between sections. Four of them guarded the facility's perimeter, and the system had actually been able to analyze them, too.

Strength: 50.

That number had made my blood run cold. Even with all sixty-four stat points invested in strength, I'd still be significantly outmatched just by their numbers, or maybe not.

I still didn't know how the difference in stats would matter in an actual fight.

And an actual fight was the only way to find out how they worked.

But their durability—a stat that apparently only they possessed not any human I had encountered—was surprisingly low.

Glass cannons, maybe? Hit hard but couldn't take much punishment?

More importantly, they didn't seem to have the adaptive capabilities that made Sentinels truly terrifying.

These were more like guard bots—dangerous, but predictable.

Or that's what I am hoping for, cause their Ability menu had shown that they did not possess any sort of special abilities.

What had thrown me off was the symbol on their backs. The distinctive Stark logo design belonged to Stark Industries.

Tony Stark had built these things.

But why would Iron Man, supposedly one of the good guys, be manufacturing robots for a black site facility that experimented on mutants?

Maybe they were stolen? Repurposed military tech? Or maybe Stark isn't as heroic as the stories make him out to be.

The thought was unsettling. If someone like Tony Stark was involved in this place, either directly or indirectly, then the people running this facility had connections I couldn't even imagine.

But that was a problem for later.

Right now, I needed to focus on getting stronger and getting out.

A few more days, I told myself. Maybe a week at most. Get enough stat points to handle the guards and those Sentinels together.

The sound of a door opening echoed through the corridor, followed by familiar footsteps.

Anna was being brought back from her own evaluation session.

They'd taken her about an hour after they'd returned me, and she looked exactly like I probably had—tired, drained, and more than a little pissed off.

"Hey," I said softly as she was escorted past my cell to her own. "You okay?"

She glanced at me and managed a weak smile. "Just peachy. Nothing like having strangers poke and prod you for science."

The guard closed her cell door with the usual heavy clank, and Anna immediately collapsed onto her cot. She looked exhausted in a way that went beyond physical tiredness.

"Same routine as always?" I asked.

"Blood work, physical tests, some new thing where they had me try to activate my powers while touching a hamster." She rubbed her temples. "They seemed interested in whether or not I would be able to control my 'powers' if the other party did not pose me any sort of threat ."

"The hamster was so cute... but it died as soon as I touched it."

I could not say anything that she had never heard before.

To be honest, she was a normal girl with a soft heart who was being pushed into hardships that no human would ever want to go through.

The hamster was probably the only cute thing she saw during the time we have been here. 

It was not about the hamster; it was the way her powers worked.

Never being able to touch another human being without the risk of hurting them was a cruel joke.

She seems to have a trauma around them, and it was completely understandable.

"Get some rest, Anna," I said. "It was not your fault." 

Anna nodded and curled up on her side, pulling the thin blanket over herself. "Night, Lucien."

"Night."

I watched her settle in, noting the way her shoulders stayed tense even as she tried to relax.

Seven months in this place were wearing on both of us, but it seemed like it was hitting her harder lately.

The evaluations, the uncertainty, the complete lack of control over our situation—it was getting to her.

Just a bit longer, I thought, watching her breathing slowly even out as she fell asleep. I'll get us out of here. Both of us.

The stat points were accumulating steadily. The system was giving me tools and opportunities. And most importantly, I was learning more about our captors and their capabilities every day.

Soon, I'd be ready to make my move.

....

Want to read ahead of the public release? Support me on Patreon at "https://www.patreon.com/FreakyHaru" and get access to:

5 and 10 chapters of all my fanfictions.

Ongoing Projects:

Marvel: Shadow Monarch

Upcoming Projects:

DC/MARVEL: The Kryptonian Emperor(Under editing, shall be released next Monday)

Your support helps me keep writing and brings you more content faster!

Thank You