Marvel : The God Of Punishment System

When Acting Director Maria Hill led numerous heavily armed security guards to the scene, they discovered only a single alien being whose facial features resembled an ancient, weathered creature of indeterminate age. Despite being completely surrounded by armed personnel with weapons trained directly upon him, the extraterrestrial displayed absolutely no fear or concern.

The ornate blade-like scepter in his gnarled hand performed a complex twirling movement, causing concentric rings of distinctive yellow-blue luminescence to expand outward in perfect circles. Instantaneously, every human figure within the chamber froze completely motionless, their eyes gradually shifting from normal coloration to absolute obsidian blackness as complete mental domination took effect. One by one, they dropped to their knees in perfect synchronization, voices merging into a singular chorus: "MASTER!"

Ebony Maw approached one of the facility's lead researchers with deliberate purpose. Through the mysterious powers of the Mind Scepter, he implanted specific technical knowledge and procedural memories directly into the scientist's consciousness - detailed instructions for utilizing the Cosmic Cube to construct stable dimensional portals.

"I require immediate construction of specialized machinery capable of opening an interdimensional gateway!"

The researcher's pupils blazed with unnatural blue radiance as modified neural pathways integrated new programming. "Affirmative, Master. However, we require specific rare elements..."

...

Meanwhile, at Avengers headquarters, Jason continued his ongoing attempts to train his extraordinary miniature pet - the mini version of the cosmic entity known as Galactus. Professor X's comprehensive medical examinations had confirmed that Mini-Galactus possessed a genuinely independent and fully-functioning consciousness, though his intellectual capacity appeared somewhat diminished compared to his full-sized incarnation.

The precise methodology by which Moonstar's reality-warping abilities had manifested this pocket-sized cosmic being remained a scientific mystery. Nevertheless, the childlike manifestation had quickly earned affection from numerous member who found his innocent demeanor endearing.

Presently, the miniature Devourer of Worlds maintained deliberate distance from Jason, deliberately turning his proportionally oversized head to face away with obstinate determination. He adamantly refused to acknowledge his would-be trainer's presence.

Jason waved an impossibly aromatic, perfectly roasted lamb leg mere inches from the tiny deity's nose, employing the universal language of culinary temptation. The smoke wisped enticingly as grease dripped tantalizing from charred edges.

"Hungry, little guy? Craving this delicious meal? Then show me that your armor isn't permanently bonded and remove it immediately!"

Mini-Galactus swallowed reflexively, his tiny throat working noticeably as saliva production increased dramatically. Yet he maintained stubborn defiance, turning his head even further away.

Jason deliberately consumed a massive, juicy portion with exaggerated satisfaction. "Mmm! Smack smack! Absolutely spectacular flavors! Pure culinary perfection achieved!"

Unable to resist sensory overload any longer, Mini-Galactus launched himself through the air like a purple-armored bullet, trajectory aimed specifically at Jason's torso. He immediately latched onto the massive lamb leg with supernatural determination that belied his diminutive stature.

Jason tugged furiously, trying to salvage what little remained—but it was far too late. The pint-sized cosmic entity had already devoured most of the feast in mere seconds. Meat, marrow-filled bones, entire platters—all vanished into a mouth that defied anatomical logic, stretching like a black hole in miniature.

Yet, somehow, through this whirlwind of gluttony, the creature's immaculate purple armor remained untouched. Not a single drop of grease, not a crumb, not even the faintest scent of roasted anything clung to its flawless surface. Jason could only stare, equal parts horrified and impressed, as the feeding frenzy continued with celestial efficiency.

Recent experimental testing had revealed the armor's true deceptive nature. Appearing initially like exotic leather or organic material, deeper analysis exposed defensive capabilities rivaling Earth's strongest materials: vibranium and adamantium. Beyond pure durability, it demonstrated comprehensive environmental resistance - complete fire immunity, total electrical insulation, perfect waterproofing, advanced thermal regulation, plus demonstrated deflection of various magical attack forms.

Jason eyed the pristine, impossibly clean armor with a growing sense of obsession. If he could just secure a sample or two, Anton Vanko and his genius son could spend weeks analyzing its composition—maybe even unlock new tech breakthroughs. The potential was staggering.

Unfortunately, Mini-Galactus was not on board. The tiny cosmic devourer flat-out refused to cooperate, dismissing Jason's requests with cosmic indifference and the occasional smug belch.

Jason sighed. He couldn't bring himself to use force—not against the little anomaly he'd come to regard as some bizarre blend of pet, mascot, and interstellar freeloading gremlin.

Still, he tried everything: veiled threats, absurd bribes, even promises of star-system-sized dessert buffets. Nothing worked. Mini-Galactus remained impervious to coercion—unmoved, unbothered, and entirely untouchable in both power and stubbornness.

Nothing had worked effectively.

With a lazy flick of the wrist, Jason tossed the last chunk of lamb leg to his lounging, ever-hungry companion. He stretched out beneath the brilliant solar rays, muscles relaxed and expression content.

Recent discoveries had revealed a surprising new advantage tied to direct sunlight—benefits that extended far beyond his already formidable powers. Through consistent exposure, one to two hours of solar absorption each day granted him steady, tangible growth: incremental boosts of 2 to 4 points across every physical attribute, every single day.

Longer sessions, unfortunately, didn't stack—diminishing returns kicked in quickly, offering no extra value beyond the optimal window. But that didn't bother Jason in the slightest. The system was a gift. A lazy, self-sustaining miracle.

Even factoring in cloudy skies or the occasional interdimensional detour, his monthly gains easily exceeded 300 attribute points—acquired through nothing more than soaking in sunlight.

It was glorious. Effortless progress. Power delivered by the sun itself.

Truly... fantastic.

...

Stuttgart, Germany – Königstraße 28

Elite members of European high society gathered beneath the grandeur of the marble-columned ballroom, their presence a seamless blend of wealth, power, and poise. The soft, intricate melodies of professional violinists wove through the air, crafting an ambiance of cultivated sophistication. Overhead, crystal chandeliers shimmered with brilliance, scattering light in a constellation of shifting patterns across the vaulted ceiling and polished floors.

Below, elegantly dressed couples moved in perfect synchrony, waltzing with effortless grace. Their flowing steps and swirling garments mirrored the timeless rhythm of tradition, reflected in the glossy surface beneath them like a living portrait of aristocratic grandeur.

Maria Hill entered wearing a striking crimson evening gown that immediately commanded attention throughout the ballroom. Her stunning appearance prompted multiple wealthy suitors to approach with various poorly-concealed intentions. Each received polite but firm rejection before she positioned herself strategically to observe tonight's primary target - the renowned Dr. Heinrich Schäfer.

Following thunderous applause from the assembled crowd, Heinrich concluded his groundbreaking presentation about renewable energy innovations with obvious triumph.

...

Adjacent research facility - Tactical assault in progress

S.H.I.E.L.D.'s elite assault team systematically neutralized security personnel with practiced ruthlessness. Armed guards barely had time to process the threat before lethal force rendered them permanently silent. The black-clad operatives moved with precision choreography toward their objective.

The squad confronted reinforced alloy security barriers equipped with multiple biometric verification systems. Specialized equipment developed from recovered alien technology defeated retinal scanners, fingerprint readers, and DNA analysis units effortlessly.

Simultaneously back at the gala, Heinrich approached the alluring newcomer with barely-concealed romantic interest. His cologne preceded him by several feet as confidence radiated from expensive tailoring.

"Pardon my forwardness, schöne Fremde, but perhaps... you vould grant me ze extraordinary pleasure of…"

The conversation ended abruptly—mid-sentence.

Before Heinrich Schäfer could finish his suave invitation, a blur of motion streaked across his field of vision. In the next instant, gleaming steel punctured his left orbital cavity with chilling, surgical precision.

His scream tore through the ballroom, a raw, animal howl that shattered the evening's carefully cultivated elegance. He crumpled backward, blood spraying in a gruesome arc across the polished marble. Crimson spread beneath him like a desecration.

Chaos ignited instantly. Crystal flutes shattered against the floor, women shrieked in panic, and men bellowed contradictory commands. The orchestra collapsed into silence, bows frozen mid-stroke, as the illusion of safety evaporated.

And yet, through the spreading hysteria, Hill moved like a shadow—disappearing through a side exit with calculated calm. Her posture remained poised, her escape unhurried. Event staff stood paralyzed, struggling to process what had just unfolded.

By the time local authorities stormed the venue, breathless and bewildered, she was already gone—extracted with efficiency so precise, it left no trace but the bloodstain.

Elsewhere within the facility, S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives breached the main vault, methodically securing precisely 0.75 ounces of iridium elements - exactly as specifications demanded.

Within remote command chambers continents away, Ebony Maw orchestrated every detail with supreme satisfaction. Cosmic communication protocols linked him directly with distant Thanos through the Mind Scepter's energies.

"Supreme Master of Masters, The location of the Cosmic Cube has been confirmed and secured. Extraction protocols are primed and may be initiated at your command."

A pause followed—measured, reverent. Ebony Maw's expression remained placid, though his eyes gleamed with anticipation.

"In accordance with conquest protocols," he continued smoothly, "shall the Chitauri proceed with the sanctioned population reduction... the precise fifty percent, as your will decrees?"

Seated upon his cosmic throne—an ominous structure forged from the bones of countless conquered civilizations—Thanos sat in absolute stillness. His immense, purple-skinned form radiated a quiet, crushing gravity, his expression carved from stone, eyes narrowed in deep contemplation. Patience, infinite and unshakable, guided his every thought.

Recent intelligence confirmed what he had long suspected: Earth harbored a third Infinity Stone—the elusive and legendary Time Stone, guarded by a formidable mystic whose power rivaled armies.

The latest extraction efforts had proven partially successful. Two Stones were now in his possession, secured through carefully orchestrated operations. But the retrieval team had been forced into a tactical withdrawal, leaving the collection incomplete.

Unacceptable.

His grand design—the perfect balance, the eternal solution—required all six. There could be no compromise, no delays. The Time Stone would be his... as would the world that tried to hide it.

"Subjugate the planet—entirely."

Thanos's voice rumbled like the cracking of ancient stone, calm yet final.

"The third Stone remains bound to this world. Find it. Extract it. Deliver it to me—without delay."

Ebony Maw's eyes widened ever so slightly as he processed the latest intelligence. Two full Infinity Stones—two—concentrated on this seemingly insignificant, primitive planet? Such unprecedented fortune could accelerate his master's grand design—universal balance—by immeasurable degrees. The path to inevitability had narrowed.

"Requesting authorization for additional support, Master," he said, his voice composed yet urgent. "Local resistance exceeds preliminary projections by a considerable margin."

Thanos's reply came without hesitation, each word laced with unchallengeable authority.

"Deployment orders transmitted. Corvus Glaive and Cull Obsidian will reinforce your position immediately."

Ebony Maw bowed his head slightly, reverence woven into every syllable.

"Eternal gratitude, Supreme Master."

The communication matrix dissolved into static, the connection severed. Alone once more, Ebony Maw turned his attention to the next phase.

Strategic calculations filled his mind. The next move required more than overwhelming force—it required symbolic domination. Optimal gateway coordinates had to be chosen with psychological devastation in mind. To crush the spirit of Earth's defenders, one objective stood above all others:

Conquer their most iconic landmark. Make the world watch as hope was ripped from the heart of its own legacy.

Desktop terminal displays suddenly illuminated with continuous terrestrial information streams:

"Tony Stark proudly reveals revolutionary technological innovation..."

"Avengers assemble triumphantly for another heroic victory..."

"21st century's greatest innovative genius: Stark's latest breakthrough..."

"Wolverine Logan Howlett's mysterious past and astonishing present revealed exclusively..."

"Billionaire playboy Stark entertains eight model simultaneously..."

Analytical processing identified Earth's dual celebrity focal points: the heroic collective designated 'Avengers' and individual Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man. Corresponding strategic locations included New Jersey's Avengers Headquarters complex and Manhattan's iconic Stark Tower.

However, direct Avengers headquarters assault posed significantly elevated tactical risks requiring careful consideration. Conservative military doctrine suggested Stark Tower infiltration followed by coordinated full-scale Chitauri fleet assault maximizing element of surprise!

...

Upon receiving preliminary reports detailing the Stuttgart incident, Jason experienced profound confusion. His intervention had successfully reformed Loki Laufeyson from villainous ambitions to heroic aspirations - currently, the God of Mischief was probably receiving Thor's typically violent fraternal welcome within Asgard's golden halls. Given this fundamental alteration, why precisely were original Avengers film timeline events continuing their predestined progression completely unchanged?

During previous months, Jason had consistently allocated substantial covert resources attempting to locate the notoriously elusive Cosmic Cube. Despite utilizing advanced technology, supernatural abilities, and extensive intelligence networks, all search attempts yielded exactly nothing. Director Nick Fury's meticulously constructed worldwide network of hidden installations proved effectively impenetrable - decades of paranoid security measures successfully frustrated every infiltration attempt.

Perhaps the Mad Titan Thanos himself had initiated direct acquisition protocols bypassing normal intermediaries?

The horrifying truth struck Jason like a bolt of cold lightning—clear, immediate, and absolute.

The early acquisition of the Cosmic Cube had unlocked universal transit far ahead of schedule... and that could only mean disaster.

If Thanos arrived on Earth wielding five fully assembled Infinity Stones, the result wouldn't just be catastrophic—it would be unstoppable. A physical manifestation of the Mad Titan, empowered nearly to completion, would dwarf Jason's current capabilities by a scale beyond comprehension.

There would be no stalemate. No clever tricks. No retreat. Only annihilation.

Critical contingency protocols activated at once. The immediate seizure—and total destruction—of the Time Stone became the highest priority.

Only one force on Earth possessed the capability to annihilate an Infinity Stone: the Phoenix Force. And that terrifying power came with a price. Should the worst-case scenario unfold, it might demand Jean Grey's voluntary sacrifice to fully awaken the Phoenix within her. A nuclear option in psychic form.

Fortunately, Jason's continued proximity had stabilized the Phoenix Force within Jean's cellular structure. Medical scans confirmed no signs of premature manifestation—no psychic spikes, no energy surges, no trace of instability. For now, the flame remained dormant.

But time was a luxury they no longer had.

Jason initiated emergency strategic planning without delay. Field operatives received clear, uncompromising directives: initiate round-the-clock surveillance on Doctor Stephen Strange. Monitor, track, and observe. The Sorcerer Supreme held the Time Stone—and should Thanos make a direct move, they needed an insurance policy in place before it was too late.

Yet even with contingency plans in motion, the probability matrix regarding a full-scale Chitauri invasion could not be ignored. Statistical projections—based on Thanos' prior conquests—strongly suggested an overwhelming likelihood of planetary assault. His fanatical adherence to the doctrine of "perfect balance" made conflict inevitable. Earth's mere possession of the Stones was already a provocation.

Compounding the crisis was the strange consistency of universal convergence: cosmic-scale battles always seemed to unfold within the same narrow strip of Earth—Manhattan. Whether by design or unknown laws of fate, the center of global catastrophe remained maddeningly localized.

An emergency video conference with Acting President Darius Freeman did little to calm rising anxieties.

Jason studied the live feed in silence, noting with alarm the toll this situation had taken on America's highest-ranking leader. Once youthful and charismatic, Freeman now bore the unmistakable signs of accelerated stress: streaks of gray threaded through his hair, deep creases lined his face, and the bright clarity once present in his eyes had dulled beneath layers of exhaustion, half-concealed by expertly applied cosmetics.

The man holding the reins of Earth's defense was unraveling before the camera.

"Jason," Freeman said, rubbing his temples, "we're going public tomorrow. Press conference at noon. Emergency elections are officially scheduled for next month. Got a strategic read on that?"

Jason didn't even blink. His gut—and the numbers—leaned heavily in one direction. Freeman staying in office a little longer was the best play. They already had working channels, and swapping leadership in the middle of a potential alien invasion? Not ideal.

"Want help keeping the job a bit longer?" Jason offered bluntly. "Say... extend executive authority for a few extra months?"

Freeman let out a dry, tired laugh, the kind that came from someone running on fumes.

"Open to ideas," he muttered. "What'd you have in mind? Invade a country with a vault full of gold? Maybe scoop up some silver mines while we're at it?"

Jason didn't return the humor. His tone was steady, serious.

"We've got credible intel pointing to a likely extraterrestrial assault. Big one. Focused on wiping out Earth's top defenses. If you lead a clean military victory on home turf? That'll skyrocket your approval rating. You won't need a campaign—you'll have a coronation."

Freeman sat a little straighter, fatigue falling away. His eyes cleared, sharper now, locked in.

"How solid's the intel?"

...

Rescue campaign strategy solidified through methodical analysis. Every move served a dual purpose: defense and optics.

The Pentagon discreetly rerouted Tony Stark to Hawaii under the guise of urgent tech-collaboration talks—conveniently ensuring he wouldn't steal the spotlight during critical upcoming events. Meanwhile, the New York National Guard received covert orders to redeploy units to neighboring states for "joint training exercises," all timed to coincide with maximum attendance from high-ranking military brass.

On the coast, multiple naval assets—including three carrier groups—were instructed to move within range of Manhattan. They maintained the appearance of civilian maritime traffic while positioning themselves for rapid response. Marine Corps expeditionary units arranged a series of "public demonstration performances" throughout the tri-state area, all perfectly staged for media visibility.

The Avengers were scattered across the globe, each sent on fabricated urgent missions. This was no accident. Strategic planners made sure only Wolverine and Colossus remained behind—powerful enough to look impressive, but not so tactically dominant as to overshadow Freeman's narrative.

Professor X was still on standby, his telepathy largely ineffective against Chitauri foot soldiers but potentially devastating against their commanding officers—beings with intact minds still vulnerable to mental manipulation.

Speechwriters drafted multiple address variants for the President, tailored to cover a range of invasion outcomes. But the core media narrative was already locked in and aggressively reinforced across all platforms:

"American Military Supremacy Prevails! Freeman Administration Saves Manhattan!"

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