Genetically modified abominations.
A cold light flickered deep within Vincent Hall's eyes.
Beside him, Gwen tightened her grip on his hand, shaking her head slightly.
"Vincent, let's leave here for now," she whispered, her voice trembling.
"I just don't understand," Vincent sighed, masking his ruthlessness with a tone of melancholy. "We're all classmates. Why did it have to come to this?"
Gwen's eyes widened in surprise. She looked at him, searching his face. "Do you... know something about this?"
Vincent deflected smoothly. "Let's not talk about such grim things. Come on, I'll take you home."
Sirens wailed in the distance. Within moments, a fleet of police cruisers swarmed the campus, sealing off the perimeter. The students had already fled the ballroom, huddled in shock outside.
Captain George Stacy rushed over, his face etched with anxiety.
"Gwen! Vincent! Are you two alright?"
"Daddy, we're fine," Gwen said, stepping into his embrace.
"We're safe, Captain Stacy," Vincent added calmly.
"Vincent, please, take Gwen home immediately."
Without waiting for a reply, George turned and marched into the ballroom.
The bright chandeliers still illuminated the venue, casting a harsh light on a scene so grotesque that every officer who entered froze in their tracks.
Nine desiccated corpses lay in pools of separated plasma.
There were no external wounds.
The police force had already been mentally scarred by the Lizard incident; they were accustomed to the idea of monsters. But the variety of creatures lying dead on the floor tonight pushed many to the brink of a breakdown.
It was a collapse of faith. A shattering of their worldview.
"Captain... are werewolves and vampires actually real?" Detective Kate Beckett asked, her voice shaking as she stared at a withered, furred carcass.
George didn't know how to answer his subordinate. The lizard monsters were one thing—he knew those were genetic experiments gone wrong, the product of Oscorp and Dr. Connors. But desiccated vampires? A shriveled werewolf? Even in death, the silhouette was unmistakably that of the legendary beast.
Genetic mutants were science. Vampires and werewolves were magic. The clash of reality was dizzying.
"Beckett, I don't have an answer for you," George said helplessly. He took a breath, forcing himself to calm down. "Medical Examiner! I want to know how these things died!"
New York had seen too many strange things lately; George was building up an immunity.
"Captain, we've already examined the bodies. They died of dehydration."
The answer came from New York's most brilliant—and secretly immortal—medical examiner, Dr. Henry Morgan.
"Dehydration?" George looked at the blood-soaked floor. "You're telling me this is dehydration?"
"Every drop of water in their bodies was forcibly expelled through their pores, guided by an external force, and deposited on the ground. The red liquid you see? That's just the solid matter left behind from the blood separation."
Henry Morgan stood up, internally marveling. In his hundreds of years of life, he had never seen such a bizarre method of execution. He thought he had seen every way a man could die. But lately, in New York, it was either frozen statues or dried husks.
"Captain Stacy, considering the supernatural nature of these deaths, I suggest you call Agent Coulson again," Henry advised.
"Mr. Morgan, you certainly remember me."
Phil Coulson walked in, leading a team of suited agents who immediately began cordoning off the scene with practiced efficiency. They looked like they did this every Tuesday.
Coulson glanced up, scanning the room until he spotted a hidden surveillance camera.
"Carl, I want the footage from the ballroom. Now," Coulson ordered.
"Relax, Phil. Trust my tech."
Coulson nodded and looked down at the withered monster corpses. He knew tonight's event was far from simple. It involved Midtown High, which meant it involved the one variable he least wanted to deal with: The Ice Demon.
To find out what really happened here, I'm going to have to ask Mr. Ice Demon himself, Coulson thought, resigned.
He knew how dangerous these genetically modified weapons were. When the Lizard escaped, S.H.I.E.L.D. lost dozens of elite agents and still couldn't contain him. Tonight, nine of them—some clearly Lizard-hybrids—had been slaughtered instantly.
Only the Ice Demon had that kind of power. But this raised a new problem.
The Ice Demon apparently possessed more than one ability. Controlling ice was bad enough. But if he could control water... in a world where humans are 70% water... he could kill anyone, anywhere, instantly.
Elsewhere, inside a speeding armored transport.
"FUCK!!!"
Brock Rumlow—Agent Crossbones—slammed his fist against the wall.
"Find him! Get me his file! Damn Dr. Connors! Damn Peter Parker!" Rumlow raged. "Did they want to get us all killed? Did they know there was a literal demon at that prom?!"
The other Hydra agents remained silent, still terrified by the massacre they had just witnessed from the shadows.
Rumlow forced himself to focus. "Hao Longtao... No, Vincent Hall. That name is familiar. Check the encrypted files Nick Fury has stash away."
Rumlow was hunting for the identity of the Ice Demon. The entity had killed Kingpin, a former Hydra client. They knew the Ice Demon was involved in the Oscorp acquisition.
"Agent Rumlow, I found him," a subordinate called out. "Vincent Hall. Eighteen. Chinese-American. Arrived in the States four years ago. Author of Fifty Shades of Grey. Shareholder in Stark Industries. Majority shareholder of Oscorp."
As the data populated the screen, the pieces clicked into place in Rumlow's mind.
"Check Natasha Romanoff's movements. See if they overlap with Vincent Hall."
"Vincent has a villa in Long Island. Natasha stayed there for an extended period a few days ago."
Rumlow grinned, a savage expression twisting his scarred face.
"Found you," he whispered. "Looks like I'm the only one who knows who you really are."
Central Park Villa.
Gwen was in low spirits. The most important dance of her life had been ruined.
Vincent wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close.
"Look on the bright side," he murmured. "Our prom was definitely unforgettable, wasn't it?"
"If you hadn't been there, I don't want to think about what would have happened," Gwen said, shuddering. She looked up at him with curious eyes. "By the way, you never really explained... what exactly is your power?"
"I call it Magic," Vincent said with a smug grin. "Using Magic, I can control water."
"So..." Gwen narrowed her eyes playfully. "That time we went fishing... you were cheating using magic?"
"Weren't you using your Spider-Sense to find the fish?" Vincent countered with a shrug. "Go take a shower. Give me ten minutes."
"What do you need ten minutes for?"
Vincent smacked her rear playfully. "Just listen to your boyfriend."
He turned and walked away. Gwen wanted to follow, but her elaborate gown made sneaking around impossible.
The Streets of Manhattan.
"Turn around! Get us back to D.C. at maximum speed!" Rumlow barked.
Offending the Ice Demon was a disaster. Hydra had faced many enemies, but they didn't waste resources on fights they couldn't win. Their goal was global domination, not a brawl with an Omega-level super-criminal.
New York was a death trap. Rumlow's instincts, honed over years of black ops, screamed that if he stayed in the city, he would die tonight.
"Sir, we sent Dr. Connors and the others ahead. There's a jet waiting at the base."
"Go to the secret site," Rumlow ordered coldly.
The armored convoy tore through the streets, nine heavy trucks bullying traffic out of the way. Rumlow didn't care about cover anymore.
The convoy reached the Manhattan Bridge.
Suddenly, Rumlow's heart seized. The anxiety spiked into terror.
"FUCK!!"
Below the bridge, the East River roared. The water didn't flow; it rose. A massive tidal wave surged up, defying gravity, and swallowed the entire convoy.
Rumlow didn't even have time to curse.
The vehicles lost traction, swept away by the hydraulic pressure, and dragged to the riverbed. Screams filled the radio channels.
Rumlow tried to kick open the door to swim, but he realized the water was receding around him.
A figure appeared in the depths of the river. Wearing an immaculate sky-blue suit, the man walked casually through the water as if strolling in a park.
"FIRE!!"
Rumlow drew his sidearm and unloaded the magazine at Vincent.
Vincent merely waved his hand. A curtain of water rose, catching every bullet. The rounds hung suspended in the liquid shield.
"Brock Rumlow? Hydra, is it?"
Vincent looked at the familiar face, feigning mild surprise. "So, Dr. Connors ran to you dogs? I'm surprised. But mostly... I'm delighted."
Vincent flicked his wrist. The water curtain vanished.
The riverbed around them was held back by an invisible force, creating a massive dry air pocket. Frost spread beneath Vincent's feet, paving an icy road over the mud so he wouldn't dirty his Italian leather shoes.
"You know me? You know about Hydra?" Rumlow realized the gravity of the situation.
His cover was S.H.I.E.L.D. If this man knew he was Hydra, he knew their infiltration of the agency. If Nick Fury found out, the Great Purge would begin.
"It's a pity. Steve Rogers is waking up soon. I planned to leave you as a welcome gift for the Captain," Vincent said, his lip curling in a cold sneer. "But you shouldn't have come to Midtown High. You ruined my dance with Miss Stacy. I am very... unhappy."
"No! It wasn't my idea!" Rumlow stammered, abandoning his tough guy act. "Ice Demon, listen! Hydra leadership admires you! They think you could be the new leader! Come back with me. I'll introduce you to Baron Strucker!"
Vincent's expression didn't change. "We can't disturb the Baron. He has very important work to do."
Like creating the Scarlet Witch, Vincent thought. He didn't know if this timeline followed the X-Men lore or the MCU lore, but he wasn't going to risk interfering with the Twins' creation. That was a crucial part of his harvesting plans.
Rumlow's mind raced. This demon knew everything. Hydra's greatest strength—their secrecy—was useless here.
"Ice Demon! Work with us! The world can be yours! We have endless wealth!" Rumlow pleaded, remembering the intel said Vincent was greedy.
Vincent remained unmoved.
Rumlow fell to his knees. "It seems I'm dead either way." He looked up, resigned. "Please. Use your ice. Freeze me. I don't want to end up a dried husk like the others."
"Hydra possesses many mysterious technologies," Vincent mused, his palm beginning to glow with a blinding white light. "If I leave a corpse, who knows? Maybe your cult could resurrect you."
The river water above them began to boil.
"Besides, I don't want Hydra knowing I killed you. That would disturb my peaceful life."
A terrifying flame ignited in Vincent's hand.
Rumlow felt the temperature skyrocket instantly. He opened his eyes, staring in horror.
"How... how can one man hold so many powers?"
Rumlow had assumed Vincent was a mutant. He was wrong.
Vincent smiled.
"Divine Flame: Shiranui."
He thrust his palm forward. Two lances of phosphorescent fire transformed into a spiraling dragon, consuming everything in the air pocket.
The raging inferno incinerated the armored truck, the bodies, and the evidence. The intense heat instantly vaporized the surrounding water, creating a massive cloud of steam that shrouded the river.
Steel melted into slag. Bone turned to ash.
Vincent turned and walked away. As he left, the water crashed back down, washing the molten remains into the Atlantic Ocean.
A figure shot out of the river, legs transformed into jets of fire. Vincent streaked across the night sky like a rocket, leaving a long trail of flame behind him—a perfect replication of the Human Torch's flight. Thanks to the Awakening of the Mera Mera no Mi, his clothes remained perfectly unscorched.
He landed softly on the balcony of his Central Park villa.
He checked his watch. Exactly ten minutes.
Vincent loosened his tie, kicked off his shoes, and shed his suit jacket as he walked toward the master bedroom.
Inside, Gwen let out a startled squeal, followed by Vincent's triumphant laughter.
[Desire Points: 3,560,000]
The chaos was spreading. The desire was rising. It was harvest time. Tonight, with Gwen's "help," he might just break the five-million mark.
S.H.I.E.L.D. Secret Base, New York.
Nine dried corpses lay on stainless steel tables.
The medical experts surrounding them looked baffled.
"It's not simple dehydration. There isn't a single water molecule left in their cells. Bone marrow, brain matter... it's absolute desiccation."
"They were dead the moment the process started. Carbon-based life cannot exist without water."
Nick Fury's face was darker than the shadows in the corner of the room.
The Ice Demon has more than one power.
Ding-dong.
A notification breached Fury's secure phone. He opened the message. It was a video file.
On the screen, taken from an aerial angle, a massive Spider-Beast was being pummeled into the ground by a human figure. The monster had no chance to fight back.
The sender ID: Tony Stark.
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