"It's not that easy to control the four fundamental forces," Ethan muttered bitterly.
Electromagnetic force and gravitational force were manageable, at least to an extent. Thanks to his control over vectors, Ethan could generate and manipulate electric currents with precision.
Using the Lorentz force principle, he could induce magnetic fields and shape them into various patterns—something that became easier after guidance from an old meta-human mentor who specialized in magnetism.
Mastery over electromagnetism felt inevitable, just a matter of time and refinement.
Gravity was another story, though still relatively easier compared to the nuclear forces. It was the most macroscopic of the four—affecting all matter regardless of scale—and Ethan had already trained with Selene twice to sense gravitational gradients.
With that experience, he could detect even subtle changes in gravitational pull, allowing him to bend local spacetime to create directional force vectors.
Once his control matured, using gravity as a foundation for more complex manipulations would be within reach.
In contrast, the strong and weak nuclear forces were a nightmare.
These were interactions at the subatomic scale, far beyond ordinary human comprehension.
Even with his vector manipulation abilities, Ethan found it almost impossible to isolate and influence quarks or manipulate beta decay events.
Humanity's current scientific understanding of these forces was still too primitive for him to rely on theoretical models.
"Your power is all about manipulation," Selene explained calmly. "Start with the macro, deepen your understanding until you reach the micro. The more precise your perception becomes at the smallest scales, the greater your control over the largest."
She went on, "Back in Atlantis, there was a special perception training method—divided into four progressive stages: wind, fire, earth, and water."
"What does that even mean?" Ethan asked, raising an eyebrow.
"The first stage—wind—means developing your awareness of macroscopic flow patterns," Selene said, taking Ethan's hand.
A small vortex of air began to swirl above his palm, formed by her subtle manipulation of air vectors.
She adjusted the angular momentum, and within seconds, the air vortex ignited into a spiraling column of flame.
"The second stage is fire," she continued. "Fire is about collapse and reorganization at the molecular level. You must refine your perception until you can directly influence molecular bonds. Once you can do that, you can create combustion or extinguish it at will."
Her eyes glowed faint blue as she moved to the third stage. The flame in Ethan's palm condensed, shrinking under immense molecular pressure until it no longer burned.
When the glow faded, a perfectly cut diamond sat in his hand.
"This is the third stage—earth. Single-element creation at the atomic level. I just rearranged carbon atoms into a crystalline lattice," Selene said, her tone firm.
"Water—the fourth stage—requires combining different elements into entirely new compounds. That's creation at its purest form. Even I can't fully achieve it."
Ethan's eyes widened. "So this is all about mental focus as well?"
"Exactly," Selene replied, looking at him with seriousness.
"Every use of your powers draws from both your physical stamina and your mental reserves. Greater spiritual perception sharpens your control, while stronger mental power boosts the raw output. If your mind were as strong as mine, you could use gravity alone to tear apart continents."
Ethan nodded.
He had suspected this ever since his encounter with the Sorcerer Supreme, Doctor Strange.
Even Apocalypse—a fifth-level meta—had immense psychic resilience despite not being a telepath, enough to rival Charles Xavier.
Right now, Ethan's own mental power was underdeveloped, his perception incomplete.
That gap was holding him back.
Selene clapped her hands lightly. "Now that you know the direction your abilities should take, the next step—"
"The next step is to try mastering either gravity or electromagnetism first," Ethan said with a confident smirk.
"Who told you to interrupt me?" Selene's eyebrow twitched. She kicked him lightly in the knee before pulling out a stack of thick textbooks seemingly from nowhere.
"Your next step is to finish primary-level coursework. A dull blade won't cut deep. Strengthen your fundamentals. Practical training is over for now—go do these exercises."
Ethan just stared. "…Really?"
Half a month passed, Ethan drowning in academic drills. But then—news broke. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s internal tensions had boiled over, and Director Nick Fury had been assassinated.
Ethan nearly cried with joy. "Finally, Hydra… about time you made your move. A month buried in schoolwork, and I could've been out there wrecking you sooner."
He swore that once he was free from Selene's 'education prison,' Hydra wouldn't have anywhere to hide. Still, he couldn't help sending a mental jab Fury's way.
At a S.H.I.E.L.D. recovery base, a bald white man lounged in the sun, munching fruit—until Ethan's shadow fell over him.
"I heard you took three bullets to the heart and a rocket to the face," Ethan said casually, taking the fruit plate without asking. "You're really committed to the act."
The bald man frowned. "Who are you talking about? I was just reassigned from Military Intelligence. Name's Saitama."
Ethan stared blankly until the man sighed.
"Fine. You got me. I copied a meta's regeneration ability, figured I could tank anything. Turns out healing that much damage hurts like hell."
A faint red light flickered in his left eye—an advanced disguise module. This was Fury.
"Let's talk somewhere private," Fury said, leading Ethan into a sealed room.
"The situation in S.H.I.E.L.D. is bad. Whitehall has convinced several department heads to side with him. I faked my death so Pierce could take over, making Hydra think they've won."
"And what did that get you?" Ethan asked.
"Hydra's been hoarding energy—nuclear fuel, exotic tech, you name it. Now they're after the Chitauri mothership's power core." Fury pressed a button, revealing a hidden passage in the wall.
"Come with me," he said with a thin smile. "You're about to see something worth your time."
When Ethan walked into the room, he found two people already inside—a man and a woman.
The man was Alexander Pierce, the acting director of S.H.I.E.L.D., but it was the woman who caught his attention.
She looked about twenty-five, but there was a commanding presence in her posture, a sharpness in her gaze that spoke of decades of leadership.
Pierce, despite his own rank, sat to the side as if deferring to her. Ethan quickly realized who she was—the younger, rejuvenated Peggy Carter, her shoulder-length brown hair framing a face that exuded confidence and authority.
"You must be Ethan, the representative from Academy City. Just as Fury described—a young man with a powerful background." Peggy's smile was warm, but her eyes assessed him with the precision of a seasoned agent.
She still carried fond feelings toward Academy City; after all, they were the reason she had regained her youth.
"Ms. Carter, have you met Steve yet?" Ethan asked once seated.
Peggy hesitated. "Not yet. I'm… not ready."
For most of her life, she had fought for the same ideals as Steve Rogers, sacrificing her youth for the cause.
Now, with her youth restored and Steve back in the world, her heart was conflicted. S
eventy years apart had turned that reunion into a moment she both longed for and feared.
Clearing her throat, Peggy pushed the thought aside and addressed Pierce. "Bring Ethan up to speed on the situation."
"Yes, Ma'am." Pierce straightened immediately. "Since your return, the integration of Snake and Shield into S.H.I.E.L.D. has gone smoothly. They're no longer capable of causing trouble."
Fury added, "But other Hydra branches are more active, likely stirred up by Whitehall. Looks like he's planning something big."
Ethan frowned. "Other than needing massive amounts of energy, what do we know? Pierce, you'd know best."
Pierce gave a measured look. "Whitehall may suspect me. I've been purging Hydra agents embedded in S.H.I.E.L.D., which could have tipped him off. But I suspect it's more that my position makes him cautious. If he keeps me out of the loop, he can maneuver without my interference."
"Hydra's internal power struggle," Ethan muttered. Even metas with shared goals fought over influence.
Hydra's philosophy might be unified at the top, but resource distribution depended on political alliances and contributions.
Whitehall was simply playing the long game.
"So what's your plan?" Ethan asked.
"If Whitehall wants the Chitauri mothership's power core, we give it to him," Pierce said, tapping a control that brought up a holographic feed. "We let him think his people succeeded, follow them back, and find his base."
The footage showed S.H.I.E.L.D.'s alien tech storage. A Hydra strike team slipped inside, killing the guards.
"These are Whitehall's operatives," Pierce explained. "I weakened security so they could get in."
Ethan nodded. "Then you track them to Whitehall's hideout."
Pierce smirked. "Exactly. He knows I don't like him, but he doesn't know I plan to kill him."
The plan was solid—until an unexpected figure burst into the scene in the feed. Clad in a star-spangled suit and wielding a vibranium shield, Captain America himself charged in, dismantling Hydra's forces with precision.
Ethan blinked. "Tell me this was part of the plan."
Fury and Pierce shared the same baffled expression. The mission was classified at the highest level; Steve Rogers shouldn't have known about it, much less interfered.
Peggy's eyes locked onto Steve.
Outwardly, she remained composed, but the white-knuckled grip on her glass betrayed the storm inside her. Seventy years of suppressed emotions—love, pain, longing—hit her all at once. She
wanted to run to him.
Then a new figure appeared beside Steve—a striking woman, fighting in perfect sync with him. They exchanged brief smiles between strikes.
Crack.
The glass in Peggy's hand shattered.