Baron Zemo had been growing increasingly agitated lately. He had assembled one of the most formidable teams on Earth—each mber a high-leve
Baron Zemo had been growing increasingly agitated lately. He had assembled one of the most formidable teams on Earth—each mber a high-leve
Baron Zemo had been growing increasingly agitated lately. He had assembled one of the most formidable teams on Earth—each mber a high-leve
Baron Zemo had been growing increasingly agitated lately.
He had assembled one of the most formidable teams on Earth—each mber a high-level combatant or master of so deadly discipline. On paper, they were elite. Unmatched. And yet... the more he pushed forward with his grand plan, the more he realized just how unfathomably dangerous his enemy had beco.
Especially after the skirmish with S.W.O.R.D.’s enhanced unit, that unease had only intensified.
He now knew that Daisy Johnson possessed seismic powers akin to focused earthquake blasts, and that Wanda—the Scarlet Witch—was a user of chaotic, reality-bending magic. Beyond that, however, their capabilities were a mystery. A dangerous unknown. And to a tactician like Zemo, lack of intel was more frightening than any weapon.
Fortunately, today had brought progress.
A new ally. One who was not only bonded with a powerful alien lifeform, but also happened to be a core mber of S.W.O.R.D.—soone with access to their inner operations and sensitive data.
That soone... was Eddie Brock. Or more accurately—Venom.
Zemo had long heard whispers about Venom. How he’d single-handedly taken down a spaceship in San Francisco. How he’d then vanished into the shadows. Now, after months of silence, the monster had resurfaced—and Zemo intended to exploit that to the fullest.
And of course, he had Amora to thank for this.
Known across the Nine Realms as the Enchantress, Amora had earned her reputation by doing what she did best—playing with hearts. With beauty, seduction, and subtle spells, she could strip any man of logic and leave him a lovesick puppet.
Well, most n.
Her powers had no effect on Prince Thor, who remained famously immune to her charms—stubborn and unyielding like a moldy stone in a latrine. But Eddie Brock? He was a far easier conquest.
A swirl of erald-green mist materialized in front of Baron Zemo.
When the mist dissipated, Amora stood there, radiant as ever—with Eddie Brock at her side, dressed in a worn-out leather jacket and looking dazed.
"Our special guest has arrived," Amora said with a sly smile.
"Excellent. Excellent." Zemo clapped his hands together, pleased. He studied Eddie closely—and noticed that Eddie was staring back at him.
Those eyes.
Pitch-black, brimming with untad aggression. The energy radiating from him matched every classified file on record.
There was no mistaking it—this was Venom.
"It seems our plans have taken another major step forward," Zemo said with a satisfied grin.
"Don’t get ahead of yourself," Venom growled, his voice a guttural rumble. "I only joined because she made so convincing argunts. S.W.O.R.D.’s rules? Feel like eating garbage. And worst of all... they won’t let eat anyone."
"Help us succeed," Zemo replied coldly, "and you’ll have unlimited food."
"That’s the spirit," Venom said, showing his jagged fangs. "But before we go any further—I need to make sothing clear. You have fifty percent of my loyalty."
Zemo raised an eyebrow.
"Fifty percent?"
"Yes. Because the other fifty percent belongs to Eddie. And he’s definitely not on board with this." Venom jabbed a clawed finger toward his chest. "That’s why I had to seize control. But don’t worry. Compared to my willpower, human resistance is laughable."
"Let’s hope you’re right," Zemo said, narrowing his eyes. "Now prove your loyalty. I want everything you know about S.W.O.R.D. I want intel on their enhanced squad. And most of all, I want to know everything about that damned Black Devil."
"Sure," Venom said casually, fangs gleaming. "Just one thing—when we storm S.W.O.R.D.’s base, don’t touch my room. That’s non-negotiable."
"Deal," Zemo agreed, chuckling.
__
Back aboard the S.W.O.R.D. mothership, a secure one-way communication line lit up in Gene Mason’s command interface.
One-way transmission ant he could see and hear the other side, but they couldn’t see him.
"What is it, Masters?" Gene asked calmly.
The face on the screen belonged to Taskmaster—one of Zemo’s elite recruits, known for his photographic reflexes and ruthless efficiency. But today, he wasn’t calling as a loyal minion.
"You’ve got a problem," Taskmaster said flatly. "Soone on your team—Eddie Brock. That guy’s been enchanted by Amora."
Gene’s crimson V-shaped visor dimd slightly.
"He’s given up your team’s positions. Your base’s coordinates. All of it. Zemo’s coming. You’d better prepare yourselves."
"Understood. Thank you for the warning, Masters." Gene’s voice was calm, emotionless—as if Taskmaster had just told him it might rain tomorrow.
Taskmaster tilted his head, amused.
"Man, you’re cold. You already knew, didn’t you? You’ve probably got everything already in motion."
"Thirty percent of the agreed sum has been deposited into your account," Gene interrupted. "The remaining seventy will be delivered via physical check."
"Always a pleasure doing business with you," Taskmaster grinned. "Okay, I’ll contact you later. This line’s only got about sixty seconds before Loki’s magic can start tracing it."
With that, the screen went dark.
Gene sat motionless in his chair. The glow of his visor turned deep scarlet.
Baron Zemo thought he had gotten a head start. Thought he had secured an early advantage.
But what he didn’t know...
Was that Gene Mason was already waiting at the finish line.
"Can’t wait," Gene muttered, "to see the look on his face."
--------------
T/N:
Access Advance Chapters on my
P@treon: /MPHFics
Reviews
All reviews (0)