The next morning, Veyric pushed open the metal door and walked straight into a wall of warm, buttery pastry smell.
Natasha leaned against the long table in a simple gray tank top. When she spotted him, something soft flickered behind her eyes, and she slid a porcelain plate his way.
A freshly baked croissant sat on it, drowned in a thick layer of dark chocolate sauce.
"Your breakfast."
Deep inside his shoulder, a tiny, barely audible gulp sounded. Venom had locked onto the chocolate and couldn't look away.
Colossus, mid-bite into a plain croissant nearby, froze. He looked down at his own dry bread, then over at Veyric's chocolate-drenched version, envy scrawled across every rugged line of his face.
Natasha caught it from the corner of her eye. She picked up the half-empty bottle of chocolate sauce from the table and flicked her wrist.
The plastic bottle traced a perfect arc through the air and landed with a smack right in front of Colossus.
"Thanks, Natasha!"
His whole face lit up. He snatched the bottle and squeezed chocolate over his bread without a shred of restraint.
Peter grabbed a second croissant, crammed it into his mouth, and mumbled through the mouthful: "God, Ms. Natasha, this is ten thousand times better than Mr. Hank's nutrient paste!"
Hank, standing nearby with his coffee, pushed his glasses up. A flicker of embarrassment crossed his furry blue face.
He took a bite of his own croissant, pulled out a chair, and settled in next to Veyric.
"Ahem. Veyric, about your blood sample research... I've hit a bit of a wall."
He swiped through a set of complex data charts on his tablet and passed it over.
"The bunker's computer systems are far too slow for analyzing the experimental data. If we could get to Stark Tower and retrieve J.A.R.V.I.S.'s system drive, my research speed would jump by at least fifty percent."
Veyric bit into the flaky chocolate croissant and didn't answer right away.
He knew perfectly well that his blood was the system-granted Blood of Light talent. The thing didn't play by any rules of science, which meant Beast had basically been staring through a microscope and pulling his fur out for nothing.
Colossus jumped in, chewing through a mouthful of chocolate bread while thumping a fist on the table.
"We need massive amounts of high-grade steel to reinforce the bunker. The tower's warehouses should have plenty stockpiled."
Hawkeye lowered his mug. "If we're going, count me in. The tower still has my personal armory. Beyond the standard arrowheads, there's high-explosive tips, shock arrows, and especially the high-frequency sonic arrows..."
He set the mug down. "Those sonic arrows might be able to disrupt Daredevil's superhearing."
The words had barely left his mouth when something lurched beneath Veyric's shirt. A tendril of black slime shot out like a striking snake and formed a snarling head no bigger than a tennis ball.
"I don't like high-frequency sonics!"
Venom bared a mouthful of fangs and hissed at Hawkeye in protest.
Clint raised an eyebrow, casually picked up a chocolate-slathered croissant from the table, and flicked it like a dart.
It sailed through the air and plugged directly into Venom's gaping maw with surgical precision.
"Mmph..."
Chocolate sauce sealed his jaws shut. He chewed sloppily, smacking away, and grumbled through the mess: "Fine. Next time you use that thing... just give me a heads-up first."
Sam swallowed his coffee and wiped his hands on a napkin.
"Tony also had a few dozen military-grade recon drones. Perfect for scouting those Defender zombies' movements ahead of time."
He paused, something clicking behind his eyes.
"And if we're hauling that much gear, we can take the heavy cargo truck from the tower's garage. That thing's armored to the teeth. Fits a serious load."
Veyric sipped his coffee and ran the numbers in his head.
J.A.R.V.I.S.'s processing power. Specialty steel for fortifying the perimeter. Weapons that could counter high-tier zombies. Armored transport and reconnaissance drones.
Going back into the heart of Manhattan carried risk. But the haul would transform the bunker's survival capability overnight. The trip was worth it.
"We go."
He set the mug down and turned to Hank. "But as a precaution, we're not grabbing the latest version of J.A.R.V.I.S. We hit the server room for archived backups, pre-outbreak only."
Everyone looked at him, a little confused.
"Who knows what kind of brain-eating hobby code zombie Tony might've written into the main system." Veyric shrugged it off like a throwaway joke.
Then he grinned, and there was something shamelessly piratical in it.
"Besides, if we're already bringing a cargo truck, might as well commit. Everything useful, everything valuable, everything worth a damn. We strip that tower clean, right down to Tony's suits."
Silence for a beat. Then heads turned, glances exchanged, and one by one they nodded. Every pair of eyes carried a barely contained spark of excitement.
After breakfast, the team split off to their respective staging areas to check gear.
Veyric pointed at the holographic table and started assigning roles like it was second nature.
"Hank, you stay behind and lay out the floorplan for the new sections. The moment we get J.A.R.V.I.S.'s data back, we activate it immediately."
Beast nodded.
"Blade, how's the shoulder? You good to move?"
Blade rolled his shoulder once, testing it. "Relax. With my constitution, scratches like that don't even register."
"Good. Pace yourself out there."
Once the assignments were set, Sam drifted over, looking a little sheepish.
"Veyric." He scratched the back of his head, clearly struggling with the words. "I just realized... my flight rig still has some issues I haven't been able to fix. I might not be able to keep up with you guys on this run."
Without his wings, Falcon lost the aerial mobility that defined everything he brought to a fight.
Veyric didn't say anything at first. He just followed Sam to the equipment bay.
The metal wings on the workbench were a wreck.
The left-side mechanism was twisted almost beyond recognition. A deep gash ran through the outer shell, edges curling outward like peeled metal skin, and severed internal cables spat angry sparks at random intervals.
Sam stood beside it, rubbing his face in frustration, brow knotted tight, eyes full of defeat.
"Mind if I take a look?" Veyric pointed at the wings.
Sam blinked, then stepped aside with a bitter half-smile. "Be my guest, but I don't think a box of wrenches is going to cut it."
Before he even finished, Veyric pulled up the system panel in his mind.
System, spend one experience point. Purchase Wing Repair Kit.
[1 Experience Point consumed. Remaining: 1]
[Acquired Item: Wing Repair Kit x1]
His hand dipped into his pocket and came out holding a test tube filled with silver liquid.
Without a word, he poured it directly over the fracture line on Falcon's wing.
The liquid moved like something alive. It crawled, filled, and fused, sealing the catastrophic crack and every hairline flaw around it in the span of a breath. Not a single scratch remained.
Sam's eyes nearly fell out of his skull.
He ran his fingers across the surface, smooth as the day it was built, then snapped his head up.
"Jesus. That's faster than Stark's tech. How the hell did you do that?"
"Call it my specialty." Veyric clapped him on the shoulder. "Your gear needs fixing in the future, come find me."
[Ding!]
[Extreme shock and gratitude detected from Falcon]
[Falcon Affinity +50. Current: 110. Bond Level: LV.0 (Stranger) → LV.1 (Companion)]
[Acquired: Falcon Bond Reward (LV.1) x1]
A rush of satisfaction. He cracked the box open in his mind right then and there.
[Falcon Bond Reward (LV.1)]
[Acquired: Experience Points x2]
[Acquired: Falcon Talent Half-Price Voucher x1]
[New Falcon Talent Unlocked: Paratrooper Elite]
[Price: 10 Experience Points]
[Description: Passive talent. Absolute aerial combat psychology. Complete immunity to acrophobia. During high-altitude, high-speed movement, sensory and neural responses are unaffected by turbulence, weightlessness, or G-forces.]
God-tier skill.
That was his first thought. Once he saved enough experience to grab it, paired with Peter's Web-Shooting, he'd finally get to feel what it was like to be Spider-Man, swinging between New York skyscrapers.
Just imagining it sent a current of excitement through him.
Still, Web-Shooting cost twenty experience points at full price. Way too steep. He'd need to push Spider-Man's bond up another level first, score a half-price voucher, and then reconsider.
Before long, everyone was ready.
The team filtered into the bunker garage one by one. The heavy door ground upward.
Peter had already changed into his red-and-blue suit and pulled the mask down over his face. He vaulted onto the roof of the lead SUV, dropped into a crouch, and waved at the group.
"Captain, I know the route to the tower better than anyone. Let me scout ahead!"
Sam spread his newly restored wings. The thrusters ignited, painting twin streaks of brilliant blue behind him.
The rest climbed into the two SUVs.
Veyric reached for the door handle, and Venom's head squeezed out from his shoulder again. A sticky tongue flicked across its lips.
"Veyric."
Those white eyes stared at him, wide and pleading. "If there's chocolate in the tower... can we bring that back too?"
A laugh escaped before he could stop it. He reached up and gave the little black head a pat.
"Yeah, I'll get your chocolate. Noted."
He yanked the door open and slammed it shut.
"Everyone, move out. Destination... Avengers Tower!"