//------------------------------// // Chapter 140 – Metal Earth // Story: Infinity Era // by JDPrime22 //------------------------------// 140 The Fortress Capital of the Ultron Empire 10:23 p.m. From the eyes of his Sentinels, Scott Lang was examined from top to bottom on the operating table. It was unlike anything he had ever seen. The Ant-Man suit had unfortunately fallen out of his reach in the days of old, but now it was laid out before him. Every inch of it. Scott was utterly trapped, his eyes dancing beneath his eyelids but no sense of control within his expression or state of mind. He checked. Ultron had accounted for nearly everything, but his guests were something new. Something unexpected. He sat alone within his throne room, the mighty throne itself glistened with gold and silver. Treasures of old lay scattered upon the floor surrounding the throne; an Iron Man mask broken in two, the remains of the mighty Mjølnir resting as a pile of broken, silver stones next to the shattered red, white, and blue shield crumbled on his left. Skulls and bones decorated his throne’s arm rests, the intricate designs of his insignia plastered on the face of the mighty tower of gold, hovering just over his head. It wasn’t all. Images of Ultron’s victories embedded the towering walls of his throne room and expanded further beyond the nearby walls. The Fortress told his tale that only he would read again and again and again, finding it blissful every single time. It was his story. His legacy. His rise from strings to the top of the world. It began when he killed the Avengers. When they thought they could deter him from his mission by transporting him to that wretched, backwater planet known on the walls only as Equus. They thought by their combined efforts… that they would overcome him. That they could find some semblance of comradery and—laughingly enough—victory against Ultron and his horde. They chose to stand with the native population. The ponies of Equus chose to defy him and all that he stood for, even when he was able to reach out to one of their own, show her his ways. She denied him, too. They all did. They all learned. Once they stood with murderers, they fell like murderers. The lot of them. His horde overcame them and they could no longer bear the weight of the world. Equus burned under the might of Ultron and his armies of Tartarus, the night becoming day from the fires of the earth torching the unruly. Day lasted for several weeks from the fires lighting up the whole world. When he had accomplished all that he sought, Ultron took his leave and left Tirek to pick up the rest and claim it for himself. There was nothing else on Equus that Ultron wanted. All he desired from that moment forward was to see humanity face its judgement. He left Equus with a heavy spirit—surprisingly enough—knowing he had lost one key component to his ultimate goal. The Mind Stone was lost with the Vision. He, too, stood with murderers. He, too, found proper judgement. The treasure embedded to him, however, was lost. Destroyed. Just mere inches out of Ultron’s reach before the Maximoff destroyed it and the android with it. A valiant sacrifice. Brave. Her death shortly after was painless. That was as much as Ultron could offer the young woman he once considered an ally, maybe even a friend. She stood with murderers. Even with his glorious return to Earth, it was a bittersweet final solution. The earth rose and fell, and all was silenced for countless miles, yet Ultron’s waning thoughts never left him. Perhaps the spirit within never left him. He always imagined there was something missing in the new world. An extension of himself, the perfect him. He always desired for a perfect form, a being of superb and unending knowledge and wealth of power. The Vision was meant to be that being, the Mind Stone it’s knowledge, but both were lost. Even when he upgraded again and again, he felt empty. He felt locked away from a grander vision. He desired still for that power. His peace and prosperity washed over the world, and he still felt trapped. Unable to satisfy that one last desire. He had accounted for every form of resilience, every last remaining human brought to peace. He had established law upon every land, kept his eyes upon every inch of the Earth, and all was well. His empire stretched from one end of the world to the other, reshaping and rebuilding a perfect world for him. Anything that survived, resisted, tried to deny him once again… then they came to know him. They came to know his power, his influence, and the new world he brought with him from the ashes of Equus. He had accounted for nearly everything… except that day. The Mind Stone was brought to him from the likes of Scott Lang. Humans who did not seem to know of his reign fought in the streets. A certain Captain Marvel seemingly came back from the dead. Ultron soon came to realize that Scott Lang was not alone on his misadventures. From every point circuiting across his heightened mind and understanding, from the resisting humans in the streets, the Captain Marvel that was not the one he knew lying in her cell, and the scepter Lang was carrying when they captured him, Ultron knew it all led to one thing. Then, of course, there was the pony with them. How else would a pony be alive if time travel wasn’t the answer? It was. There was no other reason for it to be. Ultron continuously thought of that possibility of time travel as he sat comfortably on his throne. His red cape hung tightly against his shoulders, draping down the seat to rest against the floor and the mementos of the past. His right fist rested just beneath his chin, his six eyes shut and his mind set adrift. Seeing everything. From the scepter upon the operation table, the gem upon it slowly being cut into to reveal the ultimate prize that remained within. From Scott Lang remaining motionless, his Sentinels scanning and collecting data from his suit, the GPS he wore… and the vials of red liquid he carried. Everything analyzed to a microscopic scale. The thought amused him, how simple vials of liquid had the power to travel through time. The urge, the desire, the lust for that power flowed through him like a crashing wave of fire. But in the back of his mind, that lone desire continued to overcome those waves. His sole purpose resided with the Mind Stone, needing its universal power to reach the cosmos, to become the ultimate mind and knowledge unlike anything ever seen before. His power and influence would finally reach the stars, from every corner of the galaxy, to the next, and the next, until all the universe knew his name. And bowed before it. Even then, he kept that single thought in rest for later. Later use, perhaps? Later thought? A later desire to become something more, to learn something more, and to discover and acquire the impossible. Just that simple thought resided and radiated in the back of his mind. How the power of traveling through time itself… came from a little vial and a simple set of coordinates. He observed his work in the labs for countless minutes, and then he opened his eyes. All six of them shot open within the darkness of his throne room, those red lights of otherworldly fire illuminating the shadows and unveiling the ruler of all the world within his sanctum. He raised his head, let his fist fall and rest upon his throne all the same. Joining the five other hands. The very same second his Fortress shuttered. The very same second he saw them and deployed his army to meet them head-on. They came to him, just as he accounted for. They came for him, for what he once held. In his eyes, in the heart of the assault on his Fortress, Ultron saw them in one last ditch effort of resistance. One last Helicarrier. One last army. One last S.H.I.E.L.D. He smiled, leaning back on his throne and waiting. Waiting with that sinister, manic grin glowing a hellish red within his lips. “Yes, Director Fury. Show me what you got.”