The rest of the eting went better than I expected. Even Matt was onboard with the Limbo rescue mission, since it was focused on saving people. He didn't like the other bit, though.
Taking a sip of gin from my glass, I spoke. "But the hard part is after the whole ss is done…"
"Immigration?" he asked, and I nodded.
"I an, half of the people down there were born in literal hell with no country of origin, and every single one of them has one mutation or another that made them worth preserving—at least from the demons' perspective. All that is to say…"
"They're walking weapons," Colleen surmised, "or at least everybody will think they are."
The globe would be more desperate than ever, with Nova Corp making inroads alongside SHIELD. It might claim to be here for global strategic defense, but we all really knew whose biscuit SHIELD was buttering. Hell, the entire upper managent was Arican.
"They'll fight tooth and nail to establish even the vaguest of legal claims," Matt said, anguish creeping into his voice, "and even if they don't end up militarizing the current population, they will push harder with each subsequent generation." His face had grown increasingly pale. "These people… they'll never get to live a normal life, will they?"
"Realistically? No," I answered, taking another sip from my glass.
"Can they just do that?" Peter asked.
"Yes," I said simply, "and probably with a lot fewer repercussions than you think. That's the funny thing about power. You can make up your own rules as you go. The U.S. and a handful of other countries are the only ones that even pretend their laws matter."
Peter cringed. "So what are you going to do?"
"Ideally?" I sucked my teeth. "I've been working on an offshore solution—an island nation where people can just be. It'll be open to everyone. Humans, mutants, aliens, demons, enhanced. You na it."
Matt's eyes widened. "You want to grant them so kind of diplomatic protection."
I snapped my fingers. "Nothing makes a governnt do a double-take quite like a walking nuke."
"You can't just snap your fingers and make a country," Daredevil said, frustration seeping into his voice.
"Pretty sure I can. New countries spring up all the ti."
"That's not the point!" Matt practically yelled. "If you do this, they'll co after you. Every governnt. Every spy organization. They'll say you're using your powers to force people into your organization."
I shrugged. "They already say that about , and I don't see any easy alternative. Do you?"
Matt scoffed. "Giving them new identities? Actually asking them what they want?"
"I'll do both and let them decide their fate, but this island nation thing is going ahead, whether or not I have the bulk of mutants supporting ."
"Why?" Peter asked, prompting to nod at him. I lifted the fork from my dinner plate and idly twirled it with practiced dexterity.
"Mutants don't have a safe haven. Not really. And trust is at an all-ti low, partly thanks to us, the demons, and the eldritch presence," I said.
"Us?" Jessica stopped eating her salad mid-bite, glaring at . "What did we do?"
"The warehouse. The cities the Widows and I hit during our fights. For the longest ti, we skated under public attention, but now the world knows about us, and they're very afraid. And they're right to be." I paused. "The problem is there are too many of them and not enough of us. The mutant registration bill would've passed if the demons hadn't gotten involved, and I hear the Senate is restructuring it—adding provisions that'll encourage the developnt of more anti-mutant and superhuman weapons. We need distance. And protection."
Peter's head dropped. "It's all happening too fast…" he muttered.
"That it is," I admitted.
The silence stretched between us.
"What do you want to do, exactly?" Matt finally asked.
"Help put together a good legal team. I'm going to need to find a way to push all of this through without stepping on too many political toes."
"I doubt that's possible," Matt snorted.
"Not with that attitude, Matt," I grinned. "You'd be surprised what you can achieve with a ridiculous amount of money, power, and patience."
I slid out of the booth, keeping the silencing enchantnt in place. "I'm off. I'll look into that enchantnt you asked for, Jessica. And I welco you to forward any other requests so I can include them in your final armor design for the Limbo op." I winked as I turned away. "If you need , you know how to find ."
I teleported just as I exited the door, appearing on the balcony of Stark's private laboratory.
Alarms blared. "Unauthorized personnel detected. Activating defensive asures."
tal slits opened in the ceiling, and turrets bearing beam weapons swung into place. A hidden transmitter emitted a high-pitched whine that made feel faintly tingly. Anyone weaker would've been nauseous and weak at the knees. I looked up at the cara.
"Tony, it's . I can't believe you still haven't added to the guest list."
"Unauthorized personnel detected," the voice repeated, but this one lacked JARVIS's usual monotone perfection.
"Tony? You know I can hear you, right?"
"You flatter , but I am not Mr. Stark, the greatest mind of the twenty-first century."
"That's a bit much," I said, rolling my eyes as the weapons powered up. "Just let in before I turn your defenses into scrap. We have business to discuss."
Tony huffed over the microphone. "Kids these days. No sense of humor."
The tal doors swung open, granting access to Tony's lab-slash-bachelor pad. A new-generation armor stood assembled on a platform, made from equal parts Devourer leather, Twilight Adamantium, Vibranium alloys, and bleeding-edge chanical tech, surrounded by holographic displays. More traditional Iron Man armors sat behind reinforced glass, alongside finished exoskeletons, soldier-fitted combat suits, and half a dozen experintal designs.
I whistled. Tony had gotten nearly as much done as I had—and he'd been limited to conventional ti. It was easy to forget just how much of a genius he really was.
"I see the armor is coming together," I said, nodding toward it.
"Coming together nicely," he replied. "Those Novans really know their stuff. Cut production ti by ninety-three percent."
I whistled again. "Shit. Maybe I should take a look at their tech."
Tony scoffed. "Fury would burst a blood vessel."
I laughed. "Still, I'm worried about who cos after the Novans." I produced a small device from my dinsion. Two separate balls of writhing nanotech hovered above it, undulating and pressing against the telekinetic barrier keeping them contained.
Tony blinked. Then gaped. "Is that—"
"Yup. Nanotech," I said. "Ripped it out of a Kree prince and his bodyguard during my trip down below. The wider galaxy knows about Ascendants—or at least the big demon factions do. They'll want our mutants, and they'll bring their technology and magic with them."
"Out of the frying pan and into the fire, huh?" Tony said, already moving closer. He peered at the nanotech. "Still… I can't bring myself to be mad. We're decades away from producing anything this sophisticated."
"Makes think it's better that the foremost mind of the twenty-first century has it," I said, handing him the device.
Tony chuckled. "I think you ant the greatest."
"Don't count your chickens before they hatch, Tony," I said as he carried the rune-scribed device away, prodding at its surface as it rippled beneath his touch. "And don't wish it out of the containnt orbs until you're ready."
"Will it—?" Tony began, then snapped his fingers. "Right. Intent-based enchantnts." He looked up begrudgingly. "Speaking of intent, do you still plan on making and distributing armor like we discussed?"
"Seems more vital now than ever," I said. "It'll also earn political capital with major nations—show them I'm willing to play ball and give them a way to defend themselves." I paused. "Of course, I'll be charging them out the nose."
Tony's lips twitched. "Of course."
"And our prototype?" I asked, glancing back at the armor. "Is it ready?"
"Why don't we head out to sea and find out?" Tony smirked.
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