Arlington
September 1, 08:05
While my goal with the ascent was primarily the acquisition of Superman tier brute capabilities, the reality warping metal I'd meshed with my very being had also elevated things in the opposite direction.
Owing to the computer part of its original programming or more accurately, my nature now, I could access my memories with the ease of teleporting through an art gallery. There were no forgotten, eroded or buried experiences with me.
Everything I searched up came up cleaner than I knew my brain recorded them. The babbles I made as an infant, my father's face as he cradled me and the sheer number of times I stole my mom's sleep and made her life a living hell.
Of course, with the amazing came also the depressing and downright embarrassing. No wonder our brains made us forget all this stuff. I don't know about other people, but I'd be ashamed to meet my younger self.
Thankfully, the computer description for this thinker ability was more than accurate. Because, like the files on a physical device, I could delete, reshuffle folders and files, put them under lock and key, and even set activation and notification codes on them.
The days of forgetting about birthdays, dates and other important happenings were forever behind me.
On to the matter at hand though, the meeting I'd been chasing for quite a while had finally happened. Together with Admiral Olsen, the directors of the F.B.I. and C.I.A, the secretary of defense and his advisors, we sat together in a room within the Pentagon, watching the presentation I'd put together.
This whole meeting was basically me giving them the reasons why SHIELD exists and hoping they accept and give it the authority and legitimacy it needed to function properly.
Don't get me wrong, Shield was fine and could go on perfectly and none of the people in here or anywhere could do anything about it. However, doing that would be missing the point entirely.
From day one, the sole and most important goal I meant to reach with the organisation was simple, and it hadn't changed; get all of humanity involved in its own protection. The universe and multiverse was too large to rely solely on the Justice League and lone superheroes.
With this in mind, I made sure to get the point across by showing them the plans Vandal Savage and his merry band of misfits had for the planet. Namely, their invitation of The Reach to Earth, their dealings with Apokolips, and what they hoped to obtain with their long, convoluted plan; the Warworld.
These revelations formed the first part of the presentation. First, I showed them the problem, then I presented the solution. Which came in the form of a more expansive and comprehensive view of what I showed Olsen about Shield's operatives.
For this part, I chose to break the silence.
"Ladies and gentlemen, what comes next is the proposed solution to the problem I just pointed out."
On the giant hologram pressed against the wall, a dark and tall man stood before a shipping container, his impressive physique highlighted by the compression shirt and pants clinging to him like a second skin.
He stood alone in the yard, surrounded by nothing but other containers and large construction vehicles. Yet, he nodded as though someone had spoken to him and closed his eyes to take a deep breath. On the third inhale and exhale, his body started to balloon, growing wider and taller, his exposed skin turning swamp green and gaining wicked looking ridges.
The room held its breath when the transformed Waylon breathed in and out again before raising his titanic right arm and pulling it backward, his other arm automatically rising to guard his left side.
BANG!
He and the container parted ways swiftly and violently, his outstretched arm pointing straight at the dent in the metal that had slid back several meters.
"Some of you may not recognize him, but that is Waylon Jones, formerly known as Killer Croc. He was born with a mutation that continuously devolved him into a crocodile. A prehistoric one, not the ones we have running around these days. And the regression was more than physical. They came with instincts and proclivities that were quite obviously, not human. However, thanks to the work of Shield's science division, Mr. Jones no longer has to contend with his animal side."
On the screen, Waylon leapt off the top of a container he'd just ripped in two slammed into the ground before a bulldozer. Instead of going straight ahead to lift or push it, he nodded his elongated head once again and closed his eyes just like before he transformed.
To the well controlled but perceivable surprise of most present, Waylon grew again, straining his black tights even further despite the long and massive tail that grew out of his spine without ripping his pants.
"As you all can see, Mr. Jones's mutation is no longer out of control. It has been arrested and tamed, and it now obeys him, working for him and no longer against him. With regards to the instincts that accompany what you can see on the screen here, I assure you, there are safeguards in place. One of them is the suit he's wearing. Notice how his fist didn't rip straight through the first shipping container? The suit has in-built systems that allow Mr. Jones to control how the impressive forces he generates are applied. In the highly unlikely case, might I remind you, he loses control, the suit's systems can be controlled to make his attacks useless or even lock him in place."
"What if he's not in the suit?"
"I'm glad you asked," I said to Flo Crowley,the F.B.I.'s director. "Mr. Jones opted for the more… ironclad assurances against what you're afraid of. Via a series of neurological treatments and a durable brain implant—I'm talking against EMP's, shock, radiation, the works—Mr. Jones can retain full control of himself regardless of what level of his transformation he's accessing. Naturally, the implant can be used remotely… to render him unconscious if the situation ever calls for it. And before you say anything, remember that he opted for this. Because in as much as you have concerns about safety, no one wants Killer Croc dead and out of the way more than Mr. Jones. That man lived in the sewers when I found him. That's all I'm gonna say."
Looks were shared among the people present, most of them going to Olsen since he made this meeting possible. All in all, I wouldn't say they believed or trusted my words wholeheartedly, but my confidence made them confident.
Next on the screen were the Terror Twins. God what an awful name. Sadly, it was their real one. As a result, it killed any hope at getting the prickly and uppity juveniles to change them.
While names were important, deeds ranked several orders of magnitude above them in importance. After living under Waller's severe dictatorship for a short week, they kids caved in and accepted my offer.
They did so right on time too. Typhoon Megi had been building up its strength for a few days on its way towards Luzon, the largest and most populous island in the Philippines. In fact, it reached the island right after it evolved into a Super Typhoon.
Thanks to the improved prediction, response, and aid capabilities I'd long provided to weather agencies and a plethora of disaster relief organizations, preparations began long before Megi made landfall.
Evacuation was not a possibility. Not with over sixty million inhabitants. So while the various organizations prepared for the inevitable(in their minds) casualties and property damage, Shield went another route.
I had the analysts map out the entire island and pinpoint every settlement. From there, I assigned a drone to each house and structure, shielding them in smart forcefields that could shift permeability to allow entry to people, animals and other stuff.
Meanwhile, I had the agents, Waylon (he was still thinking about the codename Hulk) and twins spread out across the island, helping anyone caught on the street, or with anything really.
We stayed there from the morning when the typhoon made landfall till evening when it began to cross over into the South China sea on its way to the country itself.
"The Terror Twins need no introduction. Strong enough to go to blows with Superman but not smart enough to see that their lives are headed nowhere. At least, before I stepped in. What you see here is two teenagers learning that there is more to life than just having powers and that actions have consequences. Mr. Jones hated his darker half and wanted it gone. These two have no other sides to them. They are their powers and they love no one other than each other."
"Then how did you convince them to join your bandwagon? Surely not with the righteousness of your cause." Miss Teagues, one of Mori's advisors asked. I got the sense this was a bit personal for her. Experience with her own children perhaps?
I chuckled. "Nothing like that. They may be superpowered, but they're still kids. Teenagers. And like every other one, they're opinionated, rebellious, and so smart and also dumb in a way that baffles the mind. I digress. It didn't take much to convince them. I just told them the truth. They either join my side, the good guys, or stay bad guys and stay in prison for the rest of their lives, where I'll make sure they never leave. Let's just say, they had enough time to think and enjoy Waller's hospitality."
Chuckles rang around the room and the C.I.A. director, Loretto Bell said, "Waller and hospitality. Two words I never would've imagined together."
I shrugged and nodded. "Whatever the case, I got the twins on board the rehabilitation program and intend to improve the lacking aspects of their personality. It may or may not take, but I am confident the two of them will learn from their older colleagues and the other heroes."
The screen showed Superman commending the twins on a job well done after the typhoon passed. Prior to this, they'd been showered with thanks and praise by the populace and from almost everyone they'd saved.
So while a big shot like Superman recognizing their handiwork didn't do anything drastic, it sort of put a stamp on things, a checkmark against the actions they'd taken that day. And it seemed to work.
Tommy couldn't hold back a smile nor hide his bashfulness while Tuppence's scowl she wore from day one hadn't changed. If anything, the more thanks were heaped on her, the angrier she got.
She didn't attack anyone though, like she'd been doing to her brother when he expressed interest in the hero stuff. Even that, she'd stopped when he didn't relent.
That was the one rule I'd highlighted as most important before we started this little program. Attacking anyone, be it a colleague or a civilian, would see the guilty party sent back to Belle Reve with all chances closed off to them.
The presentation soon moved on from them to Poison Ivy. The audience saw in detail what led to her insanity, how she'd been cured and the current help she was receiving in Arkham.
Next came the agents, a brief overview of the missions we'd successfully conducted such as the one with Godiva and the support we'd offered the Justice League.
Everything I put into the presentation was to paint SHIELD as a comprehensive answer to a multifaceted problem. Before it came along, there was no organization responsible for investigating and processing metahumans and extranormal threats, coming up with methods to counteract them, or supporting the ones keeping things civil.
The Justice League and its members were amazing.
They saved the Earth multiple times from stuff most people would never hear of, but even this was beyond them. It was simply too much responsibility for such a small group of people, many of whom simply wanted to protect their cities and people.
I hoped these people would see that. If they didn't, well, SHIELD would still be fine.
"People," I said as the video drew close to its end. "What you've just seen is just the tip of the iceberg. The planet is well defended, but why skimp out on more protection when there are literal galaxy conquerors interested in adding us to the thousands of worlds under their control. When there are eldritch entities capable of splitting the world in two because they thought the ensuing chaos would be amusing. Shield is exactly what its name stands for. An impassable and unbreakable defense formed from the best of humanity against the horrors that would destroy and enslave us, able to withstand and counteract any threat."
Locking the fingers of both hands together in front of me, I nodded to Lyla and she flipped the light switch, brightening the room.
"Mr. Rath, I must say, and I'm sure my fellows here will agree, your presentation was quite compelling and enlightening. We knew aliens existed and even held some speculations based on humanity's own history and what we've seen on the few that have made landfall on the planet, that there must be those among them who would not be content with ruling over their homeworlds. What you've just shown us was definite proof of our fears and also, a plan."
I nodded a few times.
"What I don't get is… why? You certainly do not need anything from us, judging from what you've achieved. So why? Do you want The D.O.D. to hire you when there's a metahuman problem?"
"Yes, and no."
"I'll be frank. Money is a motivation, but all the money in the world will mean nothing when an alien armada pulls up and glasses a city to cow us into obedience. What I want—is acknowledgement and cooperation."
"Go on."
"Like I said in the beginning, my desire is for humanity as a whole to be involved in its own protection. That includes every law enforcement organisation and the general populace. I want SHIELD to be a known entity in the right circles. So when, say, a case the C.I.A. is working on suddenly involves metahumans, aliens or whatever would require the Justice League to handle, you call us. There are many such cases happening all over the world and so many powered, rogue elements running free. Why, I'd have never heard of Godiva if the admiral hadn't pointed her out to me."
Subtle nods were all I could see when I looked around the room, and I fist pumped inwardly.
"That is a good point," said Stephen Mori, the head of the DOD. "If everything you've shown us about our neighbours in space has even an inkling of truth to them, the people in charge have to know. Galaxy conquerors… it sounds even more insane out loud."
"That is the unfortunate reality we have to deal with sir."
"Anything else anyone wants to add?"
"Mr. Rath, I have a question," said Loretto Bell. "Say you have access to technology beyond anything anyone has ever seen and you happen to obtain access to all of the world's darkest secrets, what would you do?"
I put on a wry smile. "This must be about the recent happenings shaking things up for people like you and I. People with richies, authority and power I mean. Well, I guess all I can say is I'm glad I have nothing to hide because ~whew, some of the things I've seen are gnarly. But yes, back to your question, what I would do if I had the means and the knowledge these "dark shadows" are exposing.
Ehhh… if it were me, I'd simply wipe the slate clean. I mean, it would be a God-given chance to wipe out a significant percentage of the worst of the worst the Earth has to offer. You know, I have a daughter and if she went through some of the things I saw and I knew the identity and location of the people responsible for her suffering, you best believe they'll not die easy deaths. If I even let them die.
That, is my answer."
""Ahem,"" Stephen Mori and Flo Crowley cleared their throats. "That was both unsettling, and quite informative."
"Hey," I shrugged. "You asked."