05:00 PM – S.H.I.E.L.D. Mobile Command Unit, Pier 84
The medical bay smelled of ozone, burnt metal, and fear.
Reed Richards sat on the edge of a biobed, but he wasn't sitting right. His spine was curved at an angle that should have snapped a normal man's back. Sweat poured down his face, dripping onto a neck that kept elongating, then snapping back like a rubber band released too far.
His left arm had slipped off the bed, stretching three feet across the floor before he consciously yanked it back. The flesh rippled, unstable. Unsettled.
Nick Fury stood in front of him, arms crossed, his single eye narrowed to a slit. Behind him, agents scrambled to secure the other transformed patients—Doom, the Storms, Grimm—but Fury's focus was entirely on Reed.
"Talk to me, Richards," Fury barked. "Start with the sixth pod. Who was in it?"
Reed wiped sweat from his eyes, his fingers stretching unnaturally long as he did so. He forced them to shorten. "I don't know, But I know what he did."
"Then tell me."
Reed closed his eyes, recalling the moment. The memory was burned into his mind, clearer than any data.
"When the shields failed… when the radiation flooded the corridor… everyone panicked. Doom fired. I tried to seal the breach. The Storms screamed." Reed paused, his body shuddering as a wave of stretchiness rolled through his torso. "But he… he didn't run. He didn't fight."
Reed opened his eyes. They were bloodshot, terrified.
"He appeared from nowhere. And then he sat down. Right in the direct path of the breach. Cross-legged. Hands on his knees. Palms up. A meditation position."
Fury frowned. "He meditated during a cosmic radiation flood?"
"He didn't just sit there," Reed corrected, his voice dropping to a whisper. "He faced it. Like he was… inviting it in. Like he knew what it was. Like he wanted it."
Reed's arm slipped again, stretching toward the floor. He grabbed it with his other hand and pulled it back, wincing.
"And the cameras?" Fury asked, gesturing to the blank monitors. "We have footage of you, Doom, the Storms. But the corridor feed is just… static."
"Because the cameras may be controlled by him ," Reed said, watching the blank spot on the screen as if he could still see the shadow there. "he may have invisibilty suit or may be move like very fast or he can climb wall."
Fury turned to the tech station behind him. "Pull the security footage. Cargo Bay 3. Time stamp 10:02 AM."
The screen flickered. Static. Then, the grainy image of the corridor appeared.
The alarm lights flashed. Reed and Doom were visible, blurred shapes in the chaos. The radiation wave hit—a wall of violet fire.
But where the intruder should have been… there was nothing. Just a shadow. A distortion in the air.
"The Cosmic Spark hit him directly," Reed whispered. "And he didn't flinch. He just… absorbed it."
Fury stared at Superman footage, coming for rescue "why Superman? take the pod and what was he saying? Why he is here"
Reed nodded, his head bobbing a little too low before snapping back up. "Yes. He arrived. Saved us. But when he saw the sixth pod… he didn't look confused. He didn't look angry."
Reed looked up at Fury, his expression grave.
"He didn't look surprised, Director. He looked… concerned. Personal."
The room went silent. The hum of the servers seemed to grow louder.
Fury turned away, walking to the reinforced window. Outside, the city lights were flickering on, but the sky was dark with storm clouds that hadn't been there an hour ago.
"So Superman knows who he was," Fury muttered, more to himself than to Reed. "He knew the intruder. And he took him.
He turned back, his face hard as steel.
He walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the frame.
" We have to ask Superman, who he was?"