Marvel’s Shadowed Knight

No one had expected this outcome.

"Gods"—beings, or perhaps pure consciousnesses, deserving of that title—long ago slipped beyond anything we can truly comprehend.

What they can do often makes no sense to us at all.

And to be clear, the "gods" we're talking about aren't like Thor—who is really closer to an unusually long-lived species.

Yet even a being of that caliber can be hunted down.

That idea is almost impossible to accept.

"What on earth are you people talking about?" Nick Fury stepped up to the group.

He hadn't returned to S.H.I.E.L.D. to get operations moving. Director Monica Rambeau was in charge now, not Fury—and, truth be told, he felt what was happening here mattered more.

Still, he hadn't expected to hear something like this.

"It's only a theory," Bruce said, shaking his head. Even they weren't certain yet, so there was no point presenting it as fact.

Most of the people gathered here were enhanced super-soldiers; their senses easily picked up every word Bruce and the others spoke. Fury had simply come to confirm whether it was true.

"Aren't we standing next to a god already?" Captain America—arguably the most famous super-soldier—nodded toward Thor.

"The 'gods' we mean are a different concept."This time it was Stark who answered.

Though he and Thor were good friends, he wouldn't lie about this.

"Thor is a god—yes—but only from a human perspective," Bruce added, finishing Stark's point.

Thor nodded. Hearing their discussion, he'd already guessed as much. The notion was so outlandish that he'd hesitated to believe it—but Bruce and the others now seemed convinced, and Thor could scarcely imagine the implications.

Fury was about to say more when a call from S.H.I.E.L.D. cut him off.

"What is it?…All right, got it.…Fine. I'll bring them in."

Whatever the caller said, Fury's expression turned grave as he faced Bruce and the others.

"Someone just showed up at S.H.I.E.L.D. He claims he's seen the end of the world."

Inside a S.H.I.E.L.D. interrogation room, a man sat staring straight through the one-way mirror, his gaze unsettling everyone on the other side. Plenty of prisoners had tried this intimidation tactic, but trained agents were rarely rattled—especially by someone they'd captured themselves.

This man was different. He had come in voluntarily, and that alone had nerves on edge; who walks into a spy agency and asks for a chat?

The door opened and Monica re-entered the room.

"Director, when will Batman get here?" the man asked, a grin twisting his scarred face. Strange lightning-bolt marks seemed carved into his skin, and his hair was a wild explosion. If he hadn't been speaking perfectly coherently, Monica would have assumed he was insane.

"Soon," she replied.

"Let's hope that Nick Fury you called can bring Batman back." The man's grin widened.

A chill ran through Monica. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s interrogation rooms were as soundproof as any on Earth—so how did he know whom she'd phoned?

"I called Batman directly," she forced herself to say, refusing to show fear.

"Did you?" He merely smiled and looked away, his gaze settling once more on the mirror, ignoring her concern.

"Can you tell me exactly what you saw?" Monica pressed.

"Director, haven't you already dug up my whole history? Why ask?" He finally looked back at her.

"Owen Reece, born in Dillon, Colorado. Two years ago you—" Monica recited S.H.I.E.L.D.'s findings, but Owen's expression never changed; he only smiled. S.H.I.E.L.D. had uncovered everything—right down to whether he wet the bed as a child—yet it hadn't rattled him in the slightest.

When she finished, Owen merely shifted in his chair.

"Done?" he asked pleasantly.

Monica nodded.

"So—Batman?"

She clenched her jaw but said nothing. He'd made it clear he was here for Batman; she was just the go-between. In truth, Monica doubted his story. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s metahuman database contained no record of Owen Reece. By all accounts he'd always been an ordinary man—and she couldn't imagine someone with real powers living such a mundane life in secret.

She eyed him skeptically.

"Director, Batman just arrived," a voice whispered in her earpiece—welcome news indeed.

Before Monica could respond, Owen nodded toward the door and gestured. The locked door swung open. No agents stood outside.

Somehow, without anyone noticing, the man in the chair had already seized control of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s security systems.

She stared at Owen, utterly shocked.

But Owen had nothing to say. He simply gestured to Monica, signaling her to leave.

Taking a deep breath, Monica turned and walked out.

As soon as she stepped out, she saw Batman and a few others approaching.

"He's a weirdo," Monica said to the bat just before Bruce entered.

"How many people aren't weird?" Bruce didn't see any issue. After all, in this world, are there truly any normal people who can end up in a place like this?Most of them, if they can avoid the agents, they will."Bat, welcome in." At that moment, Owen's voice came from inside the interrogation room.

Bruce didn't hesitate at all and walked right in.

The next second, the once-open door shut tightly behind him.

And the others who had followed Bruce understood — SHIELD clearly didn't intend to speak with them.

Still, they knew: in SHIELD, how could an interrogation room not be equipped with solid surveillance?

"Director, the equipment is down, and we can't see anything through the one-way mirror," a SHIELD agent rushed out and reported to Monica.

This made Monica anxious.

It meant they had lost all surveillance inside.

No one would know a single word of what was being said in there.

"Thor," Nick Fury turned to call.

Nick didn't even need to explain — Thor already knew what to do.

He stepped forward and reached for the door handle, intending to open it directly.

But in the next moment, he felt as if he grabbed at nothing.

The door handle had vanished. In fact, the entire door was gone.

It was as if the room had never existed.

"What...?"

Everyone froze. They had never seen anything like this.

But there was nothing they could do now — they could only hope Batman would get some useful information.

What happened outside didn't affect those inside.

"Hello, Bruce Wayne," Owen greeted him as soon as Bruce entered, saying his name outright.

Batman showed no surprise. He just sat down across from Owen.

After all, the name Bruce Wayne was practically legendary to many.

"Most people wouldn't believe that's actually my name," Bruce said, sitting opposite the man who insisted on meeting him.

"They just can't believe a comic book character would appear in real life," Owen shook his head. "But at the very least, Reed Richards should be suspicious of you by now. He just hasn't fully confirmed it yet."

"And don't worry about anyone finding out about this conversation. I've modified this space — no one can know what we say in here."

Bruce glanced around the room and nodded.

The moment he entered, the room had changed completely. What once had visible color differences now became a space of pure white.

Truth be told, a space like this could make anyone feel uncomfortable.

But Bruce had experienced this kind of thing before — he was already used to it.

"Why are you so determined to speak to me?" Bruce asked Owen.

"Because you're the one who can keep me alive," Owen replied bluntly.

"Reed Richards would sacrifice anything to protect the universe. As for the others, I can't trust them — not even Captain America and the others who stand beside you."

"I can't be sure how they'd react if they knew the truth."

"They're not necessarily noble heroes."

"Neither am I," Bruce said plainly. He had never considered himself a noble hero.

"You're right. But you are the most rational one," Owen didn't argue, instead explaining why he sought Bruce out. "You won't jump to conclusions just from hearing what I say."

"You'll weigh the options."

Bruce fell silent.

A long moment passed before the Bat finally looked up at Owen.

"Go ahead."

"You can call me Owen — or Molecule Man," he said as his appearance shifted, revealing a costume of interwoven purple and green.

"Looks like you can manipulate matter at the molecular level," Bruce observed.

"That's right," Owen smiled. The name he'd given Bruce already hinted at the source of his power.

And without that power, he wouldn't have been able to alter the room like this.

"But at the same time, I'm also a bomb — an immensely powerful bomb."

"To destroy a universe," Bruce now understood what had previously confused him: what kind of bomb could destroy one universe and affect others in the multiverse?

But now that he knew Owen's ability, it was clear.

A man who could manipulate molecules so easily — the energy stored in his body was unimaginable to most.

And using someone like that as a bomb? The resulting explosion was beyond comprehension.

It perfectly explained why this man could annihilate an entire universe.

"That's right. Some people made me like this — made me part of their experiments. That's why I came to you," Owen said with a smile, even as he described something so tragic.

"You want to save the world. I want revenge on those who used me as a bomb."

Owen didn't sugarcoat anything — he told Bruce exactly what he intended to do.

"I believe we have the potential to work together, don't you?" Owen said with a smile.

"How do you know all this?" Bruce didn't agree right away. He wanted to know how Owen had this knowledge.

Logically, with the multiverse, each universe could have a variant of a person — but they usually had no contact with one another.

Because variants, by nature, weren't the same person anymore.

"This universe isn't the only one where you're special," Owen said, pointing first at Bruce, then at himself. "I'm special too."

"In fact, I'm special in every universe."

"I'm the bomb they use to destroy each universe — so they made sure I'm the same everywhere, maintaining my uniqueness."

(End of chapter)

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