The Son of Mischief and Moonlight

The room looked like the set of a low-budget dystopian movie. Three massive cages lined the back wall, each crammed with terrified kids wearing high-tech power-dampening collars. Standing between the cages and the door were a dozen guards armed to the teeth, all sporting expressions that screamed, We're the bad guys. Please defeat us.

In the middle of this chaos stood Zero, who might've been auditioning for the role of Most Mysterious Man Alive. He stood stock still, arms crossed, as if the armed guards and desperate prisoners were just an awkward Tuesday afternoon.

Nick Fury took one look at him and scowled. "Zero," he said, his voice dripping with that I've had enough of everyone's nonsense tone he'd perfected over the years. "You standin' there like a mannequin for fun, or you gonna actually do somethin'?"

Zero tilted his head ever so slightly, which, in Nick Fury Land, was basically waving a white flag. "That depends," Zero said in his usual monotone. "Are you here to negotiate, or are you here to make a mess?"

Luke Castellan leaned toward his brother Travis, whispering, "He doesn't know Fury, does he?"

Travis smirked. "Five drachmas says Fury drops the 'M-word.'"

Connor Stoll snickered. "I'm in."

Fury didn't disappoint. He rolled his one good eye, raised his gun, and fired a shot that grazed the floor right next to Zero's foot. "Oh, I'm here to save these kids, take down these guards, and ruin Stryker's day. So yeah, I'm about to make a big mess, mother—"

"Called it!" Travis whispered.

Before Fury could finish his sentence, the guards decided to prove their loyalty to evil by opening fire. Chaos erupted.

"Move, people!" Fury barked, diving behind a crate and returning fire. "Luke! Travis! Connor! You three make yourselves useful for once!"

"With pleasure!" Luke said, darting forward with Hermes-speed. Before the guards knew what hit them, he'd swiped a few guns and casually tossed them aside. "Oops. Butterfingers."

Travis grinned, pulling out a handful of marbles. "Time for some slapstick!" He tossed them on the floor, and the guards nearest to him slipped, skidded, and collided like the world's worst bowling pins.

Connor, not to be outdone, whipped out his trusty slingshot. He fired a bronze pellet that expanded into a net mid-air, ensnaring three guards at once. "Trick shots, baby!" he announced, raising his hands like he'd just won gold at the Olympics.

"Less showing off, more helping!" Annabeth Chase yelled as she ducked behind a column. Her dagger flashed as she took down a guard sneaking up on Beckendorf, who was already at the first cage, muttering about the locks.

"These are Hephaestus-grade," Beckendorf said, his voice thick with irritation. "Whoever designed these thought they were real clever. But I bet I could beat this blindfolded."

"Do it faster!" Thalia Grace shouted as she launched a lightning bolt at a group of guards, sending them scattering like pigeons.

"Do you know how complicated these are?" Beckendorf shot back, not looking up. "This isn't a video game!"

Meanwhile, Zero finally sprang into action. He drew his pistols and took down three guards with eerie precision, barely moving from his spot. "I'll cover you," he said flatly to Beckendorf.

Natasha Romanoff and Yelena Belova were already in the thick of it, moving with the kind of grace that made everyone else look clumsy. "This is boring," Yelena said, flipping a guard onto his back. "Why does nobody ever put up a decent fight?"

"Maybe you're just too good," Natasha replied, disarming another guard and using his own baton to knock him out.

Brunhilde, meanwhile, was having the time of her life. Swinging her sword like she was mowing a field of very unlucky weeds, she bellowed, "Come face me, cowards! I've fought gods tougher than you lot!"

The kids in the cages were watching with a mix of awe and confusion, which was understandable given the circus unfolding before their eyes. Beckendorf finally cracked the lock on the first cage. "Got it!" he yelled, swinging the door open.

Kurt Wagner, Piotr Rasputin, Jubilation Lee, and Betsy Braddock scrambled out, their collars still glowing ominously.

"Stay close!" Annabeth ordered, her voice sharp and commanding.

Zero appeared beside Kurt, holding up a strange device. "Hold still," he said, removing the collar with a quick click.

"Danke," Kurt whispered, his voice shaking.

"No time for thank-yous!" Fury snapped. "Get to the exit, now!"

At the second cage, Beckendorf was already working his magic. "Almost there," he muttered as sparks flew. "Whoever made this lock had way too much free time."

When the cage finally opened, Illyana Rasputin, Rahne Sinclair, Tabitha Smith, and Paige Guthrie practically stumbled out. Rahne's Scottish accent was thick with disbelief. "Y-you're here to save us?"

"No," Beckendorf said with a straight face. "We're here for the buffet."

"Move it, Beckendorf!" Fury shouted, taking down another guard. "We ain't got all day!"

The third cage fell moments later, freeing Sam Guthrie, James Proudstar, John Proudstar, and Clarice Fergusson. "Stick close to us!" Natasha instructed.

Luke glanced at Travis and Connor, smirking. "That went well."

"Think we'll get a bonus?" Connor asked.

Fury turned his glare on them. "Your bonus is me not throwin' you in that cage for clownin' around. Now shut up and get these kids outta here!"

"Yessir!" they chorused, not even trying to hide their grins as the group began their escape.

—

The kids wasted no time diving into the action once their collars hit the ground. If they had been waiting for a moment to unleash all their pent-up frustration, this was it. For Fury and his team, it was like a fireworks show where every explosion was another new superpower being demonstrated—unexpected, chaotic, and guaranteed to shave a few years off Fury's life expectancy.

"Did I just see that kid teleport?" Fury barked, pointing at Kurt, who disappeared with a puff of blue smoke and reappeared behind a guard.

"Ach, ja!" Kurt said cheerfully, kicking the guard into a wall. "And I can do it again!" He vanished with another BAMF and reappeared next to Fury, smiling like a mischievous elf.

Fury shot him a flat look. "Next time, try teleporting us out of this mess instead of just showing off, Blueberry."

"You'll thank me later," Kurt said, vanishing again.

Meanwhile, Rahne Sinclair was in full werewolf mode, snarling and leaping at guards with her Scottish accent as thick as her fur. "Ye think ye can lock me up like some animal, do ye?" she growled, pinning a guard to the ground. "Let's see how ye like it!"

Next to her, Tabitha Smith—Boom-Boom—was juggling glowing orange spheres of energy like they were stress balls. "Hey, Rahne, save some for the rest of us!" she said, tossing one at a group of guards. It exploded in a brilliant flash, sending them flying. "Man, that never gets old."

"Collars come off, and they're a freaking three-ring circus," Fury muttered, taking cover behind a crate. "Brunhilde, tell me we've got an off switch for this chaos."

Brunhilde laughed as she cleaved a guard's weapon in half with her sword. "Why would you want to stop them? This is glorious!"

Clarice Fergusson was meanwhile flipping guards' attacks back on them with her portals. "Behind you!" she called, creating a glowing purple portal just in time for a guard's taser shot to bounce back and hit him in the chest.

"Is it just me," Luke Castellan said, ducking under a guard's swing, "or are these kids stealing the show?"

"They're stealing something," Connor said, grinning as he swiped a pair of keys from a distracted guard. "Bet these unlock something fun."

"Would you two stop looting?" Annabeth snapped, disarming a guard with a swift twist of her knife. "We're in the middle of a battle!"

"It's strategic looting," Travis argued, slingshotting a marble at a guard's helmet. "We're keeping the guards distracted."

"By stealing their lunch money?" Annabeth shot back.

Meanwhile, Charles Beckendorf was smashing through guards with his bare hands, his voice carrying over the chaos. "Anyone else notice these idiots are using cheap knockoff tech? I could build better in my sleep!"

"That's nice, Beckendorf," Fury called, ducking as a stray energy blast from Illyana's glowing sword sliced through a wall. "But how about you focus on getting us out of here before we all end up on Stryker's Funniest Home Videos?"

Piotr Rasputin, now in his full metallic form, casually tossed a guard across the room. "We'll clear the path," he said in his deep Russian accent, "but you must lead us."

"Oh, now we're delegating?" Fury growled. "Fine! Follow me! And someone get the freaking wolf-girl to stop snarling at everything!"

"Wolf-girl?" Rahne snapped, her accent dripping with indignation as she tackled another guard. "Say that tae my face!"

"Pretty sure you are in my face, Lassie!" Fury retorted, motioning for the team to move.

As they rounded the corner into a courtyard, Harry Lokison descended on Aether, who wiggled like an excited puppy. "Took you long enough!" Harry shouted, blasting a guard tower with his staff.

"Great," Fury muttered, squinting up at him. "Flying kids now. Because why not? Next, someone's gonna tell me this damn cloud is alive."

"It is!" Harry called, laughing as Aether spun in the air.

"That was not an invitation for confirmation, kid!" Fury snapped.

Warren Worthington III swooped overhead, tossing smoke bombs into another tower. "Can you guys keep up down there, or should we handle this ourselves?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Angel Cakes," Fury shouted. "Didn't realize we were holding up the halftime show!"

On the ground, Logan was doing what he did best—slicing, growling, and being a general nightmare to the guards. "You wanna keep yappin', Fury," Logan growled, popping his claws, "or are you gonna help?"

"I'm helping!" Fury shouted, taking down a guard with a perfectly aimed shot. "Unlike you, I don't need claws to get the job done."

"Right, because yelling at us is so effective," Logan muttered, slamming a guard into a wall.

Coach Hedge was charging into the fray with his bat, bellowing at the top of his lungs. "That's right! Feel the pain, you scumbags! Who's the little goat man now?"

"Pretty sure it's still you," Logan muttered, smirking as Hedge knocked a guard out cold.

As the group pushed toward the exit, the kids worked together in perfect, chaotic harmony. The Proudstar brothers cleared the way with brute strength, Clarice opened portals to redirect reinforcements, and Jubilation Lee sent bursts of colorful energy to keep the guards on their toes.

By the time they reached the exit, Fury was covered in dust, his coat had a new tear, and his patience was running on fumes. "If any of you kids even think about asking for ice cream after this, I swear—"

"Relax, Fury," Harry said, landing gracefully on Aether. "We're almost out."

"Almost," Fury repeated, glaring at him. "You just jinxed us, you little punk."

The sound of reinforcements echoed in the distance.

"Told you," Fury muttered, drawing his weapon. "Let's finish this."

—

The battle inside Stryker's facility could only be described as an Olympian family reunion gone wrong—chaotic, loud, and filled with enough property damage to bankrupt several small nations. Harry Lokison, perched atop his sentient storm cloud, Aether, was the eye of this colorful storm, firing off glowing, magical arrows from his Uru and Celestial Bronze bow with all the precision of Artemis herself. His arrows weren't just weapons—they were tiny firework shows of destruction, exploding into bursts of golden light that sent Stryker's guards flying like confetti.

"Nice aim, Cupid!" Logan snarled as he gutted a pair of guards with one swift, fluid motion. His claws gleamed, his grin was feral, and he looked every inch the Wolverine Fury had warned Harry about. "Next time, try not to aim so close to me, huh?"

"It's called calculated chaos, Logan," Harry replied, loosing another arrow. It ricocheted off a wall, spun through the air like a mad ping-pong ball, and hit a guard's taser baton, causing an explosion that took out three more guards. Harry turned to Logan with a smirk. "You should try it sometime. Adds flavor."

"Flavor, my ass," Nick Fury growled, ducking under a stray bolt of electricity. "The only flavor I want is victory. Keep your arrows pointed at them, not us, Legolas."

"Technically, I'm more of a mix between Odysseus and Robin Hood," Harry corrected, his grin infuriatingly unbothered as he loosed another arrow.

"Technically, I don't care," Fury snapped, his gun barking twice and dropping two more guards. "Now shut up and fight!"

The room was a cacophony of shouts, explosions, and the rhythmic WHACK of Gleeson Hedge's baseball bat connecting with various skulls. The satyr, clad in a leather jacket that made him look like a biker goat, was having the time of his life. "Come on, you ugly mortals! I've got enough bat for all of you!"

Meanwhile, Hank McCoy—calm and collected as always—dispatched guards with graceful efficiency, using a combination of acrobatics and brute strength that made his blue fur a blur in the chaos. He didn't shout or gloat like the others; his commentary was limited to the occasional muttered observation about "inefficient combat strategies."

And yet, despite the chaos, Harry stilled. His bow lowered, his sharp green eyes narrowing as if he were listening to a whisper only he could hear. The pull was faint but insistent, like a thread tugging at the edges of his consciousness.

"Kid!" Hedge barked, slamming a guard into a wall so hard the plaster cracked. "You zoning out on us? Snap out of it before you get zapped!"

But Harry didn't respond. His expression was distant, his body tense. "Someone's calling," he murmured.

"Calling?" Fury snapped, shooting another guard. "Unless it's Domino's delivering pizza, I don't care."

"It's coming from deeper in the facility," Harry said, his voice calm and unnervingly certain. "I have to check it out."

"Like hell you do," Logan growled, his claws still dripping with someone's bad decision-making. "We're not splitting up."

"I'm not asking for permission, bub," Harry said, leaping off Aether with a grace that would've made Artemis proud. "You can either follow me or stay here. Your choice."

"Damn kids," Fury muttered, but he waved for Logan, Hank, and Hedge to follow. "Fine. But you'd better know what you're doing, Legolas. I'm not dying in a mad scientist's lair because you heard voices."

The four of them moved through the facility's labyrinthine halls, leaving the rest of the group to fight their way toward the exit. The air grew colder, more sterile, the fluorescent lights overhead buzzing like angry hornets. Every step they took felt like diving deeper into something dark and unnatural.

Finally, they reached a heavy steel door marked PROJECT DEADPOOL – CLASSIFIED in bold red letters.

"Deadpool?" Logan muttered, eyeing the sign like it had personally insulted him. "What kind of stupid name is that?"

"I feel like I've seen worse," Hedge offered, twirling his bat like it was a conductor's baton. "But only just."

Harry placed a hand on the door, his expression grim. "There are people inside. Scientists. And something else."

"'Something else' is never good," Fury said flatly. "Logan, cut the door."

"About time," Logan grumbled, his claws extending with that signature SNIKT. He slashed through the control panel, and the door hissed open. Inside was a sterile, dimly lit lab filled with panicked scientists and the cold hum of machinery.

But all eyes were drawn to the glass cryostasis chamber at the center of the room. Inside was a man—scarred, hairless, and bristling with wires and tubes. Above him, the words PROJECT DEADPOOL – WEAPON X-8 blinked ominously.

"What. The. Hell," Fury said, his voice colder than the cryo-chamber.

One of the scientists tried to bolt, but Hedge intercepted him with a gleeful, "Not so fast, Doc!" He pinned the man to the ground, his bat inches from the scientist's nose. "Start talking, or I'll introduce you to my friend, Mr. Aluminum Louisville Slugger!"

"It's… it's an experimental subject!" the scientist stammered, his glasses askew. "Stryker ordered it. He wanted to create the perfect assassin—regenerative abilities, enhanced reflexes—"

"Let me guess," Logan interrupted, his voice a low growl. "You're Frankensteining people again. That worked so well last time."

Harry stepped closer to the chamber, his emerald eyes glowing faintly. "He's alive," he said softly. "And in pain."

"Of course he's alive," Fury snapped. "That's Stryker's whole MO—make things alive so he can kill other things with them. How do we shut it down?"

"You can't!" the scientist squeaked. "If you interrupt the process—"

"Let me guess," Logan cut in, "he wakes up and goes on a murder spree?"

"More or less," the scientist admitted, his voice barely a whisper.

Fury turned to Harry. "Alright, Legolas. What's the plan?"

Harry tightened his grip on his bow, his expression like storm clouds before a downpour. "We're not leaving him like this."

—

The air in the lab crackled with tension as Harry stepped forward, his bow shimmering in the dim light. The bowstring, infused with magic, hummed with energy as he nocked an arrow. Runes—both Asgardian and Greek—etched along the arrow's shaft pulsed faintly, as if they were alive. Harry's emerald eyes narrowed at the cryostasis chamber holding Deadpool, its ominous hum filling the room with a dread that even the bravest warrior couldn't ignore.

"Alright, kid," Logan muttered, his claws still extended, gleaming under the lab's fluorescent lights. His gruff voice carried that mix of skepticism and irritation that only Logan could perfect. "What's the plan? Please tell me it doesn't involve you doing something stupid."

"Who, me? Do something stupid?" Harry smirked, tilting his head. "You wound me, Logan. No faith in your friendly neighborhood godling?"

"Friendly? Debatable. Neighborhood? Hardly," Fury cut in, leveling Harry with a glare that would've stopped lesser mortals in their tracks. "Now, unless you plan on monologuing us to death, shoot the damn arrow and let's move. We're burning daylight here."

"Relax, Uncle Sam," Harry said, flashing a grin that was pure Loki mischief. "This isn't just any arrow. It's an enchanted containment spell with a side of pocket-dimension mojo. Think of it as magical Tupperware for homicidal maniacs."

"Magical Tupperware," Fury repeated, deadpan. "Kid, if this thing explodes, I'm personally tying what's left of you to a satellite and launching you into space."

"Duly noted." Harry's grin widened as he pulled back the bowstring. The glowing arrow thrummed with energy, casting rippling light across the room. "But don't worry. I've got this."

"Yeah, you better got this," Logan grumbled, scanning the room again. "Because the last thing I need is 'Testicle with Teeth' there waking up mid-fight and making this even messier than it already is."

"Messy? Nah. I'd say it's a solid seven out of ten on the chaos scale." Harry winked. "Let's see if I can bump it to an eleven."

"By all means," Logan growled, rolling his eyes. "Make it worse."

Harry ignored him, his focus narrowing to the cryostasis chamber. He whispered a single command in Ancient Greek: "Mikrosyne!" The arrow shot forward, streaking across the room in a trail of golden light. It hit the base of the chamber with a sound that could only be described as polite. No explosion, no dramatic shattering—just a soft ping.

The chamber quivered. Its surface rippled like water before it began collapsing in on itself, wires retracting, glass folding inward. The whole thing shrank down, smaller and smaller, until it was no bigger than a soda can. Harry stepped forward, casually catching the miniaturized chamber as it fell.

"Boom," Harry said, holding it up for the group to see. "Portable psycho assassin, now available in fun size."

"I swear to all the gods, kid," Fury muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "One of these days, your luck is gonna run out."

"And when it does, I'll improvise." Harry slipped the chamber into a pouch on his belt. "But right now, I'd say we're golden. Well, as golden as things can be when you're hauling around a shrunken mass murderer."

"Don't get cocky, Harry," Hank said, stepping closer to inspect the enchanted chamber. His tone was measured, the kind of calm that usually preceded a lecture. "The spell might hold for now, but we'll need a proper containment solution. Something more… permanent."

"I'll add it to my to-do list." Harry shot him a mock salute. "Right after 'save the world' and 'figure out where Stryker hides the good snacks.'"

"Focus, godling," Logan snapped, retracting his claws with a metallic snikt. "Alarm's blaring. Guards'll be swarming us any second."

"Guards?" Coach Hedge's voice cut in, his trusty bat resting on his shoulder. "Let 'em come! I'll give 'em a one-way ticket to Tartarus!"

"Hedge, maybe let the rest of us handle the murder-happy henchmen," Harry said, his tone dry. "You save your energy for something bigger. Like, I don't know, an actual hydra."

"Don't tempt me, kid," Hedge huffed, though his chest puffed out with pride. "I'm ready for anything."

"Speaking of anything," Fury said, motioning to the trembling scientist in the corner, "you. Start talking. What else is Stryker hiding in this hellhole?"

The man stammered, adjusting his fogged glasses. "Th-there's another lab... further down the corridor. They've been experimenting with—"

The intercom crackled, cutting him off. "Warning. Intruders detected. Initiating lockdown protocol."

"Of course," Logan muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because nothing's ever easy."

"Time to move," Fury barked, already heading for the door. "Hedge, you're rear guard. Hank, with me up front. Harry, for the love of all things holy, try not to turn this into a circus."

"Can't make any promises," Harry called back, conjuring another glowing arrow. "But hey, at least it won't be boring."

As the group moved into the corridor, alarms blaring and shadows stretching long, Logan glanced back at Harry and shook his head. "Kid's gonna get us all killed."

"Maybe," Harry said with a grin. "But we'll go out in style."

—

Harry's fingers twitched, and the bow in his hand shimmered, shifting back into its wand form as it slid smoothly into his pocket. He didn't need it for the next part. Not with what he was about to face. His fingers grazed the handles of his dual hunting knives, each one strapped securely to his back, the sleek blades glinting under the harsh, flickering lights of the lab. They were a perfect blend of elegance and deadliness—Uru and Vibranium alloy, forged with both the toughness of the gods and the resilience of Earth's strongest metal.

The knives weren't just for show either. No, these blades were blessed by Bast, the Egyptian Goddess of Cats, making them as much an extension of him as his own hands. The enchantments whispered across them, granting him enhanced speed, strength, and reflexes. And, of course, there was the little bonus—lightning crackled along the edges, imbued with the power of Mjolnir itself. Harry grinned as he gripped the hilt of each knife, the anticipation buzzing in his veins like static.

"Alright, things are about to get down and dirty," he muttered under his breath, eyes scanning the corridor ahead.

Logan's claws scraped against the walls as he leaned against the hallway, scowling. "Are you seriously planning on taking these guys out with a couple of knives, kid? You're gonna need more than that for the kind of crazy coming our way."

Harry raised an eyebrow, flipping the first blade effortlessly in his hand. "Oh, trust me, Logan. I've been trained by Chiron, K'un Lun, and even Sun Wukong himself. You might be good with those claws, but I've got the perfect mix of speed, strength, and just enough chaos to make sure no one even sees me coming."

Logan's lips twisted into a smirk, though it wasn't the kind of smile that invited friendly conversation. "Yeah, we'll see how long that lasts before you go berserk on us."

"Don't tempt me," Harry quipped back. "I've been known to get a little… enthusiastic when I fight."

Hedge, who was now holding his bat like it was a weapon forged by the gods themselves, shot Harry a skeptical look. "I'm still stuck on the idea that you're walking around with god metal knives and you're not immediately causing chaos. What, you waiting for a personal invitation to the party?"

"Oh, I'll get there," Harry said, spinning the second knife expertly in his palm. "But right now, I'm keeping it cool. You know—strategic, calculated. Think of it as… tactical chaos. I'm just waiting for the right moment."

Behind them, Hank tapped his foot impatiently. "I really don't care what kind of chaos you plan to invoke, but we need to get moving. Every second we waste, those lockdown protocols are getting worse. And I'm pretty sure they've got something a lot worse than Deadpool coming down the hall."

"Right," Harry said with a mischievous grin, strapping both knives securely at his side. "Guess it's time to put my skills to use."

Logan sniffed the air like a wolf on the hunt, his eyes narrowing. "The way I see it, kid, you get to show off that fancy training of yours, and I'll mop up whatever's left. Deal?"

Harry raised his hands in mock surrender. "Deal. But you better be prepared, because when I go in, I don't leave much behind."

As they continued down the corridor, Harry's thoughts drifted for just a moment to the lessons he'd learned under the tutelage of Chiron, the masterful centaur who had taught him both discipline and honor. K'un Lun had sharpened his mind and his body, teaching him to move like the wind, fast and unpredictable, and Sun Wukong had instilled in him a love for mischief. A blend of godly strength, battle strategy, and pure trickster instinct. No one was ever prepared for the chaos Harry could unleash when the time was right.

It was about to get ugly, but he was ready.

Suddenly, a screech of metal echoed down the hallway, and then the heavy clang of a door slamming open.

"Looks like our party's arrived," Fury's voice cracked through the tension, and he whipped his gun into his hand.

Harry flashed a grin. "Tactical chaos, Uncle Sam. We're in."

The first guard appeared, charging down the hall at full speed. But Harry was faster.

He vanished into the shadows, the flicker of his form barely noticeable. In a blur of motion, his first knife sang through the air, striking with pinpoint precision, embedding itself in the guard's shoulder. Before the man could even react, Harry was on him, his second knife following the first with a slash that left a clean line across the guard's chest.

The man crumpled, but Harry didn't stop. He darted out from the shadows again, another guard coming into view.

"Didn't even see me," Harry muttered to himself, voice full of delight.

Behind him, Logan was already in the fray, claws slashing through another opponent with his usual brutal efficiency. Hank was close behind, blasting anything that got too close with his advanced tech.

But it was Harry who seemed to dance through the chaos like the night itself—blades flashing, lightning arcing from the knives with every strike.

"Not bad," Harry thought to himself, his grin widening as he sliced through yet another foe. This was his element—chaos, strategy, speed, and enough divine power to make sure no one walked away from this looking like they'd had a good time.

In the thick of it, Fury's voice came through, sharp and commanding. "Keep moving! We've got bigger problems ahead, people! You want a fight? We're gonna give these guys a fight they'll never forget!"

Harry gave a quick salute, the flash of his grin still in place. "I'm on it, Uncle Sam. You just keep your eye on the prize. I'll handle the mess."

Logan muttered something about how the kid was gonna get them all killed, but Harry was too caught up in the thrill of battle to care. This was his moment.

—

The team reached the lab in a haze of urgency, the flickering lights illuminating a series of large vats filled with a strange, metallic substance. Fury's eyes narrowed, scanning the vats. "No way," he muttered under his breath, stepping closer. "This... this is Adamantium. That's the same stuff Stryker used to coat your skeleton, Logan."

Logan stiffened at the mention of Stryker, his claws instinctively popping out with a low growl. "Yeah, I know it well. Didn't exactly feel too friendly when they shoved it into me."

Fury glanced around, his tactical mind racing as he eyed the machinery around the vats. "We can't leave this stuff here. If they're doing what I think they are, we can't let it fall into the wrong hands."

Harry's eyes lit up at the idea of more of this lethal metal being put to use for nefarious purposes. He stepped forward, his knives securely strapped to his back, his Uru and Celestial Bronze bow in hand, ready for the next challenge. "Don't worry, Fury. I've got this covered." He flicked his wand, watching as it transformed seamlessly into his bow.

Fury shot him a questioning glance. "You sure you can make this stuff portable? You see how much of it there is?"

Harry gave him a grin, his eyes flashing with mischief. "Oh, I can make anything portable, Fury. Watch this."

With a swift motion, Harry drew an arrow and aimed it at the nearest vat. He let it fly, the arrow shimmering as it sped through the air. Upon impact, the vat's contents shrank instantly, condensing into a small, compact form of liquid metal. Another shot, and the same thing happened to the second vat. The third vat followed suit, and soon the once-unmanageable loads of Adamantium were now easily manageable, each chunk no larger than a fist.

Fury's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Damn, kid. That's... that's impressive. Can we get more?"

Harry smirked. "Oh, I've got plenty more where that came from." He rapidly fired several more arrows, each one reducing the vats of Adamantium to manageable sizes that Fury quickly pocketed into an assortment of storage containers, his hands moving with precision. "Never know when you'll need a little extra metal for the next round of surgical enhancements, right?" Harry joked, winking.

"Let's not push our luck," Fury grumbled, but his eyes were sharp, scanning the room for any other potential threats. "Good work, Harry."

With the Adamantium secured, the group made their way toward the exit. As they neared the back entrance of the facility, Harry noted the absence of the others. The voices of Luke, Travis, Connor, and Beckendorf reached his ears before he saw them. The group was standing in front of the exit, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents at their side, all waiting patiently.

Fury's expression darkened as he approached them. "What are you all still doing here? Where's Coulson with the rest of the team?"

Luke gave a nonchalant shrug, his face a mix of smugness and mischief. "Oh, Coulson grabbed the others, and took them off. Figured it was safer to leave it to them. But, uh, we had other orders from Harry."

"Yeah," Travis added, grinning. "We were supposed to keep an eye on Stryker and his team at the entrance. Make sure none of them try anything funny while you guys wrapped up inside."

Fury turned to Harry, confusion etching his features. "And why didn't you tell me about this earlier? Why would you leave Stryker alive?"

Harry couldn't help the mischievous grin that spread across his face. "Well, you see, Fury, I had a vision of how this would go down. You know, in all those action movies, there's always that scene where the heroes walk away from the explosion, and everything's going up in flames behind them? I thought it'd be fitting if we recreated that little moment, Stryker and his men all tied up and gagged at the front entrance, with a nice, big boom behind us."

Beckendorf stepped forward, tapping a large, glowing timer on his wrist. The countdown clock was ticking down, just a minute and twenty-five seconds remaining. "Everything's rigged, boss. Just as Harry said. We'll have our fireworks soon enough."

Fury stared at the timer, then back at Harry, his expression a mixture of disbelief and admiration. "You did this?"

Harry chuckled, the sound light and casual. "Hey, I'm just the guy who handles the tactical chaos. You know I like to make a grand exit."

Logan rolled his eyes, clearly unamused by the idea of dramatic explosions, but Harry's plan seemed to be working. "This is either gonna be the coolest thing you've ever done or the dumbest. Either way, I'm in."

The seconds ticked away as Harry, Logan, Fury, and the rest of the team made their way toward the exit, the looming explosion drawing closer. Stryker was still bound and gagged, left behind in the hands of his own tormentors as a bit of karma for what he'd done.

Fury eyed the timer, then looked back at Harry, shaking his head, the slightest grin playing on his lips. "I still don't get how you do this."

Harry gave him a wink, adjusting the strap of his bow. "I told you, Fury. Tactical chaos."

And then, as they emerged into the cool night air, they heard the thunderous boom. The sound of the explosion echoed for miles, a perfect end to their mission. Harry allowed himself one last look at the burning facility, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"See? Just like the movies," he said, turning away as the flames lit up the sky behind them, signaling their victory.

---

Hey fellow fanfic enthusiasts!

I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Whether you loved it, hated it, or have some constructive criticism, your feedback is super important to me. Feel free to drop a comment or send me a message with your thoughts. Can't wait to hear from you!

If you're passionate about fanfiction and love discussing stories, characters, and plot twists, then you're in the right place! I've created a Discord server dedicated to diving deep into the world of fanfiction, especially my own stories. Whether you're a reader, a writer, or just someone who enjoys a good tale, I welcome you to join us for lively discussions, feedback sessions, and maybe even some sneak peeks into upcoming chapters, along with artwork related to the stories. Let's nerd out together over our favorite fandoms and explore the endless possibilities of storytelling!

Click the link below to join the conversation:

https://discord.com/invite/HHHwRsB6wd

Can't wait to see you there!

If you appreciate my work and want to support me, consider buying me a cup of coffee. Your support helps me keep writing and bringing more stories to you. You can do so via PayPal here:

https://www.paypal.me/VikrantUtekar007

Or through my Buy Me a Coffee page:

https://www.buymeacoffee.com/vikired001s

Thank you for your support!