January 29th, 2011
(Third Person POV)
New York.
Chaos reigned on the Brooklyn Bridge as a group of armed robbers blew a portion of it apart down the middle to block their escape.
A crack spread through the asphalt, followed by several more splintering outward.
Support beams tore free from the sides of the bridge.
The cracks widened, small craters formed, and the metal supports let out a deep, groaning wail before a section split down the middle, leaving a twenty-foot gap between the two sides.
The unlucky cars trapped on the collapsing portion began to plummet hundreds of feet toward the waves below, those unable to escape screaming in terror for their lives.
That was until a loud swoosh cut through the air, and in a matter of seconds the four falling cars were back on solid ground.
Another swoosh followed, and a white and gold silhouette stood before two armored vehicles filled to the brim with robbers armed to the teeth.
The robbers opened fire, yet the bullets met unyielding resistance against the rock-hard chest of their savior.
In the blink of an eye, the robbers were all unconscious and neatly rounded up, bound tightly in the fallen metal cables of the bridge.
Not only did their savior stop the robbers, but he also stayed behind to help with repairs, and in less than two hours the bridge was operational once more.
Their savior gave a two-fingered salute and a bright, reassuring smile before whooshing away in a blur of motion, leaving behind countless grateful families.
January 30th, 2011
Chicago.
Two warehouses belonging to Oscorp were engulfed in flames as an experimental project the scientists were working on had catastrophically failed.
First responders had arrived on the scene, yet their efforts to put out the fire were in vain, their hoses insufficient against the relentless inferno.
The flames began to spread to nearby buildings, and before long the fire, combined with the volatile chemicals, threatened to trigger a chain reaction that would level the docks.
That was until a tidal wave began to rise in the distance of Lake Michigan, growing larger as it surged closer.
And at the forefront of it was the cause—a white and gold figure flying ahead of the wave, his immense speed dragging the lake's waters upward and directing them toward the raging fire.
The massive surge crashed into the burning warehouses, extinguishing the flames in an instant, though those unfortunate enough to remain nearby were left drenched to the bone.
Yet none of them cared, their problem had been solved.
Until one of the scientists pointed out the large, toxic cloud of green fumes rising from the wreckage.
The mysterious hero descended, taking a deep, steady breath. Slowly, the cloud began to shrink, drawn inward as it was pulled into the lungs of their savior.
In a burst of speed, the hero in white and gold shot into the sky and exited the atmosphere, exhaling the cloud of toxins where it harmlessly dispersed into the vacuum of space.
An hour later, after staying behind to assist with rescues, the hero gave another two-fingered salute before flying off once more.
February 1st, 2011
Hawaii.
Natives from a nearby village fled as the volcano looming over them rumbled violently, belching smoke and magma that slowly crept down the mountainside.
Some stood frozen, watching in quiet despair as the lava drew closer and closer to their homes, expecting the village to be swallowed whole.
A sudden whoosh echoed overhead, and all eyes turned upward to see a man clad in white and gold hovering above the impending disaster, a pensive expression on his face.
Once more, he took a deep breath, but this time, he exhaled toward the advancing magma.
A stream of blue frost burst from the hero's mouth, slow at first, then intensifying as realization set in.
Moments later, the frosty mist cleared to reveal the magma halted by a towering wall of solid ice.
Next, the hero ascended toward the thick cloud of ash and smoke billowing from the volcano's peak and inhaled steadily for nearly a full minute.
The sky cleared, and once again he flew into space, releasing the collected ash where it dispersed instantly.
He repeated this process multiple times, freezing the advancing lava, clearing the choking ash, and carrying it away into the void.
Nearly two hours later, when the volcano finally ceased its eruption, he remained behind to help repair damaged homes and assist the villagers.
Giving his signature two-fingered salute, he flew off into the distance once more.
February 2nd, 2011
Chile.
A magnitude 7 earthquake tore through the coast of Chile in a cataclysmic event that would have claimed the lives of thousands.
Then, a figure in white and gold streaked across the devastated landscape, moving at incredible speeds as he rescued civilians one by one, ferrying them far from danger.
Within the hour, a death toll that would have reached the thousands was cut drastically.
For the next two days, the hero remained, aiding in relief efforts, pulling survivors from the rubble, reinforcing damaged structures, and lifting the spirits of those he saved.
However, many witnesses noticed that whenever he uncovered the body of someone who hadn't survived, a flicker of anguish crossed his features before he ensured they were treated with dignity and given proper last rites.
It only made the people appreciate him more.
They never learned the man's name, but those he saved would come to call him 'The Guardian.'
For he was always there to protect and save the innocent in their darkest hour.
February 6th, 2011
New York City.
Several armored S.W.A.T. trucks, along with a gaggle of police cruisers, sat stationed outside Oscorp with weapons at the ready after reports of a robbery and a bomb threat had been called in.
A group of highly trained mercenaries with unknown affiliations had infiltrated the building the night prior, aiming to get their hands on a piece of technology recently developed by Oscorp's research division.
The item in question was a dispenser capable of housing a chemical solution within a pod and dispersing it as an airborne toxin.
Speculation suggested the group had been hired by a terrorist organization connected to the theft of a chemical bio-weapon stolen in Africa a few months earlier.
After tripping the security system in the dead of night and killing multiple guards, the mercenaries had holed themselves up inside the massive building, taking several hostages and threatening to detonate a bomb they had brought for exactly this situation if they weren't allowed to leave unharmed.
Captain George Stacey stood inside the temporary command tent they had set up, surrounded by high-ranking S.W.A.T. officers as they brainstormed a plan to safely retrieve the hostages and capture the armed assailants, when he heard the sounds of commotion outside.
He quickly stepped out and made his way to the established perimeter, spotting a growing crowd staring upward in awe.
Frowning in confusion, the Captain followed their gaze—and saw exactly what had captured their attention.
Hovering in the air near the fiftieth floor was a caped figure that had been seen across the world over the past month.
The hero dubbed Guardian appeared to be inspecting the building with curiosity before turning, and locking eyes with him.
Slowly, the hero descended, touching down lightly on both feet in front of the Captain.
"Captain." The man's voice was deep and steady, though upon closer inspection, George couldn't help but think he looked a bit young.
"Guardian."
Guardian raised an eyebrow. "So that's what they're calling me now?" He paused, glancing at the large crowd gathered behind the barricades, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Not bad."
Turning back, his green gaze locked onto George's, the smile fading as his expression sharpened into something all business.
"Talk to me. What's the situation?"
"We've counted twenty assailants so far, all armed with high-tech gear. They're attempting to steal a dispenser capable of creating a gas cloud large enough to cover New York City.
Speculation is they were also behind the recent theft of a bio-weapon in Nairobi, and they intend to release it using the device." He answered.
"Any casualties? Hostages?"
"Ten hostages, six confirmed dead. They claim to have an energy bomb inside the building large enough to level this entire block, so we're wary of making a move."
Just then, another set of footsteps approached from behind him, followed by the sound of protesting voices, quickly drowned out by a sophisticated, if somewhat snobbish, tone.
"It is my building they are holding hostage! Every minute they remain, I lose money!"
Both Captain Stacey and Guardian turned toward the commotion, revealing none other than Norman Osborn himself, dressed in a tailored three-piece suit that likely cost more than George made in a month, fury etched across his face.
Osborn stormed forward, stopping just short of getting in the Captain's face as he jabbed a finger toward his chest.
"Why are you simply waiting around, Captain? Send your men in there!" Osborn demanded.
Captain Stacey exhaled slowly. "It's not that simple, Mr. Osborn. They have hostages, and they're claiming to have a bomb."
Osborn scoffed. "They're bluffing. They dare to steal from me!?"
He turned toward Guardian, only to find the hero was no longer standing beside them.
A split second later, the sharp hiss of energy weapons erupted from within the building, flashes of light flickering through the glass windows.
Faint yells of shock and panic followed, and then—one by one—the hostages began appearing outside behind the secured perimeter.
Finally, when the tenth hostage had been delivered to safety, Guardian paused just long enough to ensure they were clear before vanishing back inside in a blur.
The sounds of gunfire intensified, windows shattering as fragments of glass rained down onto the street below.
"On me! Weapons at the ready." Captain Stacey raised a closed fist before motioning forward.
Ten officers fell in behind him in a tight formation, rifles up as they breached the building to support Guardian.
The first thing they saw was shattered glass, and an unconscious body being hurled through it.
Several more mercenaries—eight by his count—lay sprawled across the floor, suffering from various injuries, though none appeared fatal.
"Fall back! Fall back!" a voice shouted further down the hall.
George nodded to his squad, and they advanced in formation, two officers with armored shields leading, the rest stacked tightly behind as they pushed down the corridor.
Rounding the corner, they spotted two mercenaries retreating toward cover. The moment they noticed the squad, they raised their weapons, but were swiftly taken down before they could fire.
They moved up several flights of stairs, clearing each level methodically until they reached the top floor, where the final confrontation was unfolding.
Guardian blurred forward, intercepting a mercenary mid-attack and wrenching his rifle aside, redirecting the shot into his own squadmate—the yellow energy blast burning a hole clean through the man's stomach—before knocking the first unconscious in the same motion.
Next, he dashed toward two more mercenaries and slammed their heads together with brutal efficiency, both dropping limp to the ground.
George and several of his men winced at the impact.
Finally, Guardian faced the last remaining mercenary, a man without a helmet, a jagged scar crossing his right eye, a manic grin stretching across his face.
"You're too late, hero. The bomb's been armed this whole time."
Guardian shifted to move, but the man raised his hand, revealing a deadman's switch.
George's gaze snapped to the bomb. It was roughly the size of a man's torso, sleek and advanced, its core pulsing with an ominous blue glow.
The timer on its surface ticked down from twenty seconds.
Deep down, George knew he wasn't making it out of this without a miracle.
Guardian hesitated, and George caught the flicker of conflict on his face, saw the rapid calculations racing behind those emerald eyes.
"You might think I'm a little crazy, Captain," Guardian said evenly, "but I'm asking you to trust me."
Before George could respond, Guardian moved.
In a blur, he seized the terrorist by the scruff of his neck while simultaneously grabbing the bomb with his other hand.
In the blink of an eye, he shot out through the shattered windows and soared high above the New York skyline.
George and his squad rushed to the windows, joining the civilians below who craned their necks skyward to witness what would happen next.
Guardian hovered in the air for a few seconds, George counting each one as the timer ticked down—five… four… three…
Then, with precise timing, Guardian hurled the terrorist away like a football, sending him flying far enough to escape the blast radius.
A brilliant blue explosion erupted from the bomb, a blast that would have undoubtedly leveled the entire block.
At the same time, the terrorist plummeted headfirst toward the pavement below, seemingly doomed.
At the last possible moment, Guardian streaked downward and caught him just before impact.
He remained there until George and his team reached the ground to apprehend the man, and as the Captain approached, he caught a strange smell coming from the terrorist's backside.
Guardian glanced at him sheepishly. "I think I made him shit himself."
AN -
I can already see the comments incoming on the frost breath scene. 'Oh your giving him more powers, oh Viltrumites don't have Frost Breath.'
I got the idea from from EmmaCruzader, who wrote Still Defiant, a similar story with a Viltrumite ending up in a Marvel/DC Fusion-verse.
As she explains it, the Viltrumite increases the air pressure in his mouth and regulates the temperature, before exhaling at the exact speed that allows his breath to turn to ice.
Other then this 'Superbreath' that I am giving him, this is the only new power he will get. No heat-vision, no weather manipulation, nothing else other then 'Superbreath'
Now thats addressed, I saw all the comments on the suit and can safely say that the Emperor suit got more support, and tbh I like it more as well. He'll still use a cape for the next few chapters, but I think after the events of Iron Man 2 and the Stark Expo is when he'll switch suits, if not then, then during the events of Avengers.
I also saw that many of you think the suit needs more color. I agree. I'll post a rendering of the new suit with some more color, lmk if you wish to see another color in its stead.
[Insert Image of Suit with Color Here]
This brings me to my next point. Originally, I wasn't going to have him be apart of a team, maybe working part time with teams around the world like the F4, X-Men, and Avengers.
But I started reading a recent Avengers story, and I kinda want to build a dynamic with him and the team, so I am planning on him to be a full-time Avenger, but to still do his solo hero gig as well.
And some of you might like learning that I am kinda on the fence about the whole business start up thing. Instead of his own business, I might have him collab with Tony and Peter on something instead for the Avengers as a whole. I am not entirely convinced on this route tho.
He'll still create his inventions and sell them to select companies, or the military, but as for his own business I am 50/50 on if it is going to continue on as it. Because even with the whole 'fanfiction' excuse, an aerospace business is going to take forever to create on his own with the little money he has. I know investors are a thing, and I was planning on use that, but I think it would be cooler if he had help with the business instead of simply working on his own.
With that said enjoy the chapter. This is PT 1 of Around the World, where we see Edward, or Guardian in this instance performing saves from the perspectives of others. I will have several of these scattered through the story.