The Golden Destroyer

Crisis at S.H.I.E.L.D.

S.H.I.E.L.D. Crisis Room, Helicarrier

The atmosphere was heavy, oppressive, as if each team member carried the weight of the world on their shoulders. Nick Fury, seated at the head of the table, stared at the main screen. The images displayed the aftermath of the St. Louis tragedy: leveled neighborhoods, gaping craters, and hospitals overflowing with the injured. Over 500 dead, dozens missing, and material damage estimated at several billion dollars.

The political crisis was total. The presidency teetered under the pressure of the victims' families and international criticism. Anger rumbled in the streets, fueled by a public demanding answers. Small groups were fanning the flames to complicate the situation further.

Maria Hill, in a somber mood, broke the silence.

"The World Security Council has been clear: they want results. The St. Louis disaster has brought the country to its knees. And now, Jonathan is linked not only to the Hellfire Club but also to the Brotherhood. He's a ticking time bomb, Fury."

Natasha Romanoff flipped through a file, her brows furrowed.

"What complicates things further is that we know almost nothing about him. No history, no real identity. All we know is that he's incredibly powerful and now navigates between two of the most influential and dangerous organizations in the world."

Fury rubbed his temples and sighed in frustration.

"The problem is, there's no easy solution. The Hellfire Club has connections in all political and economic spheres. The Brotherhood, on the other hand, represents a paramilitary threat. And Jonathan, this… guy, is a combination of both. If we act too quickly, we risk igniting things."

Maria crossed her arms, her tone hard, clearly disapproving of this line of thinking.

"And if we don't act, we'll look weak. The presidency is already on the line with this crisis. The families of the St. Louis victims are furious, and they're demanding a head. If we don't intervene, we'll lose the trust of our supporters."

Phil Coulson, who had been listening to everyone attentively, calmly interjected with an idea in mind.

"What if we played on that? Use the anger of the families and the general public to isolate Jonathan. Not directly, but by provoking a split between him and his allies."

Natasha raised an eyebrow, a wry smile on her lips.

"You want to turn them against each other?"

Coulson nodded.

"The Hellfire Club is governed by internal power struggles. The Brotherhood is fragile, dependent on Magneto. If we can manipulate perceptions, make them doubt Jonathan, he could lose his support before we even have to intervene directly."

"I see what you mean," Maria interjected. "The Brotherhood, although hated by the general public, isn't as hated as Jonathan these last few days. An aggressive campaign in the press and online should put him in the hot seat, given the risk he represents."

"Exactly," Natasha continued enthusiastically. "I doubt the Hellfire Club wants to expose itself with a member with such massive negative publicity." "We could release the composite sketch Professor X provided."

"Shouting to everyone that a human-shaped dragon walks among them is creating total panic," Phil interjected.

"That's true," Maria said, "but nothing prevents us from associating him with it in some way. We could describe him as a mad cultist who enjoys invoking calamities to wreak havoc. The goal being to tarnish his image so much that even his allies will get rid of him."

"And the moment he's isolated, we grab him," Natasha finished.

Finding no fault with this plan, Fury straightened up, his gaze sharp.

"Alright, but we need more than rumors. Hill, you'll monitor the influential families of the Hellfire Club. Find weaknesses, conflicts of interest, something we can exploit. Barton, do you have anything else to report?"

Clint nodded, a worried look on his face.

"His energy has been detected in several locations. Caches belonging to a third party. The traces are sporadic, but they show he's looking for something."

Natasha frowned.

"What exactly?"

"That's the problem. We have no idea what he's looking for. But given the archives of the places, it can't be trivial. They mainly contain research on mutant and exotic genetics that our scientists are struggling to understand. If Jonathan gets his hands on something truly dangerous, we could be in a much worse situation than St. Louis."

Fury pursed his lips.

"Hill, put all our resources on these caches. I want to know what he's found and why he's interested. If it involves the person I think it does, it doesn't bode well."

In the silence that followed, everyone left the room with a specific task. But uncertainty remained omnipresent. Jonathan was not just a physical or political threat: he was a mystery. And Nick Fury knew that mysteries were often the most dangerous. And he hated them.

--------------------

A sky fractured by black lightning screamed under my power. The clouds, dense and laden with despair, parted to let one of my colossal heads pass. I descended upon this fragile world like a divine sentence, a living storm of destruction and chaos.

The luminous cities stretched out before me, their glittering towers raised like silent prayers to gods who would never answer. With a beat of my titanic wings, the wind shattered into tearing howls, reducing buildings to shards of glass and stone flung into the ether.

I controlled nothing. Every movement, every breath, every burst of my roar was a declaration of the end. Beneath my claws, the plains opened into gaping chasms, swallowing entire crowds who screamed in terror. They ran, but I felt their lives extinguish like flames that I crushed with a simple breath. I loved it.

An ancestral rage resonated within me, an insatiable hunger that demanded more than flesh or soul: I wanted their essence, their history, everything that made them who they were. I drank in their light, and in return, I left them only emptiness.

My jaws opened, a black lightning bolt escaped. It was not an ordinary lightning bolt, but a force that tore reality itself, erasing everything in its path. The cities did not burn; they ceased to exist, as if their memory was ripped from the universe.

I felt their terror, their despair, like a divine nectar. But behind this intoxication, a dull pain throbbed within me. A consciousness, weak but persistent, screamed in the corners of my mind. *This is not you. Stop!* But I could not, I would not. I was inevitable, only the infinite and primordial silence enchanted me.

A solitary figure appeared below, tiny but immobile. His arms rose towards me like a challenge. He was shouting something, but his words were lost in the cosmic crash of my descent. Suddenly, my gaze fixed on him, my head snaking towards him. My breath stopped, the universe seemed to falter around this insignificant but strangely familiar being.

Then, I felt a tear. Not in the world, but within me. A bright, brutal pain that froze me. It was not a nightmare. It was a memory. Whether it was from a past long gone or a distant future, I did not know.

And as dream and reality collapsed, a murmur echoed in the shadows:

"You are but a fragment. Remember what you truly are: a prelude to my glory."

--------------------

"Damn it!" I cried, clenching my teeth, my heart pounding. I woke with a start. Since my blackout in the company of Selene, I hadn't stopped dreaming, having visions.

Of a gigantic me, devouring worlds, stars, and all of creation. The scariest thing was that I didn't know when it was set. I suspect it was the evocation of my age that triggered these visions.

Because, you see, at first, it was just a lie in a power game. But now, I knew it was a certainty that I was that old, but I felt I was missing something to complete the truth.

"Amnesia," it's like I suffered from it. Like everything I saw was a process of my subconscious for me to recover lost memories. I hated it.

The mere idea of becoming, as he put it, "inevitable" put me in a permanent stress that I could barely hide from the Brotherhood members. I had made substantial progress in accepting my nature, finding a fragile balance between my humanity and my draconic essence. Even my other personalities had retreated a little.

Everything had gone haywire now. A fourth one had invited itself, whose nature or motivations I did not understand at all.

"Stop your denial," Reason told me, "this is what you are destined to be." He doesn't seem to tolerate your weakness.

"Indeed," the Monster chimed in, "he is the One, personification of chaos and entropy."

"Didn't know you were poetic," I said full of sarcasm.

"Say what you want. We are immortal, beyond what you can imagine, we will await our hour patiently," the Monster retorted.

"Not while I'm dominant, and this is my body," I said firmly.

My external problems not being enough, I was now going to enter a power game with myself. Wonderful!

-------------------

It was the big day, my first mission with the Brotherhood in the field. I was the last to enter in the room, as the white light of the holograms bathed the room in a spectral glow. Magneto stood at the center, imposing and self-assured, surrounded by members of the Brotherhood. Mystique to his left, arms crossed, her face impassive. Avalanche and Pyro, sitting side by side, exchanged whispers. I, leaning against the wall, observed.

Magneto raised a hand to call for silence, and everyone's attention converged on him.

"We have received reliable information concerning a government laboratory located at Raven Rock," he began, his voice resonating with gravity. "They are developing a weapon there called the Genetic EMP, capable of neutralizing our powers. This cannot be tolerated."

A hologram detailing the complex appeared in the center of the room. The images showed reinforced walls, armed patrols, and a locked central room, likely the place where the weapon was being designed.

"This is our target," Magneto continued. "The mission is simple: infiltrate, destroy, leave."

He turned to Mystique. "You will be our key to entry. Your ability to infiltrate human ranks is crucial. Once inside, disable the security systems to allow our entry."

Mystique nodded slightly, her yellow eyes fixed on Magneto. "No problem. I'll find their weak point."

"Avalanche," he continued, "you will create a diversion. Collapse a non-critical section of the facility to draw their forces."

A smile touched Avalanche's lips. "Nothing like a little controlled chaos."

"Pyro, you will provide support. Their fear of fire will be enough to disorganize them."

Pyro tilted his head enthusiastically. "I already have a few ideas to make them run."

Finally, Magneto turned his gaze to me. "Jonathan, once inside, you will be our main asset. Your role is to neutralize any opposition and ensure that the weapon is destroyed. If reinforcements arrive, take care of them."

I nodded without a word.

"One important thing," Magneto added, fixing his gaze on each of us. "We know that this laboratory also holds captive mutants, used as test subjects. Their liberation is not our priority. If it endangers the destruction of the weapon, we abandon them."

A heavy silence settled in the room. Mystique frowned slightly but did not protest. Pyro seemed indifferent, while Avalanche simply shrugged.

Magneto concluded in a firm tone: "Prepare yourselves. We leave in 24 hours. The Brotherhood does not tolerate failure."

As the members began to leave the room, Mystique approached me, her gaze piercing.

"You've done this kind of job before, haven't you?" she murmured.

I stared at her for a moment before answering. "Not yet. But I doubt it will be as simple as it seems."

A wry smile stretched her lips. "Nothing is ever simple with us." Then, she turned on her heels and disappeared into the corridor.

I cast one last glance at the hologram before leaving the room in my turn. Raven Rock awaited us, and with it, the first real consequences of my new alliance.