Chapter 2

The Amazonian jail on Themyscira, hidden from the world of man was a pillar of both strength and security. Carved from the stone marble that have witnessed centuries of Amazonian civilization, the jail's exterior blended seamlessly with the surrounding forest, its entrance guarded by vigilant sentinels clad in armor crafted from enchanted metals.

Inside the jail, the corridors are dimly lit by torches that cast eerie shadows that dance along the walls. The cells themselves were made from the of a sturdy metal that has held strong throughout the years, their doors sealed with intricate locks to prevent escape attempts. Despite the formidable construction, there was an air of tranquility within the jail, as if the very essence of Themyscira itself permeated its walls.

Beyond lied the bustling city of Themyscira, a marvel of Amazonian architecture and culture. Streets paved with smooth stones wind through the city, lined with shops and market stalls selling exotic goods from across the island.

The sounds of life filled the air as Amazons went about their daily routines, their laughter mingling with the music of harps and the beat of drums. Gardens filled with vibrant flowers and exotic plants littered the landscape, testament to the harmony between nature and civilization that defines Themyscira.

Alassane, the young man held in the Amazonian cell, was fast asleep. His light skin contrasted softly against the dim light filtering into the cell, his shoulder-length hair fell in disarray around his face, framing his features with an effortless nonchalance.

It was as if he had resigned himself to the reality of his captivity. Instead of fighting against the constraints of his situation, Alassane seemed to have accepted his fate with a quiet resignation, finding solace in the simplicity of his existence within the confines of the cell.

Despite the chaos that surrounds him, there was a tranquility in his demeanor, a serene acceptance of the present moment. Perhaps he found comfort in the stillness of his surroundings, perhaps he was resigned to his fate. Only he could tell what was going through his mind.

In the grand throne room of Themyscira, Queen Hippolyta presided over a council convened to discuss the implications of Alassane's presence on the island. Accompanied by one of her most trusted sisters, Artemis, and the revered Oracle, the queen's regal presence filled the room, her expression grave as she considered the weight of their dilemma.

As the council gathers, the Oracle speaks first, "The presence of this outsider poses a grave danger to our island," she starts, her eyes clouded by the cloth that hangs over them. "His arrival brings a disruption to the delicate balance of our world, a harbinger of unforeseen consequences."

Artemis nods solemnly, her features etched with concern. "We cannot ignore the potential threat he poses," she agrees, her voice steady despite the gravity of their situation. "But we must also consider the possibility that he may hold answers to questions we have yet to ask."

Queen Hippolyta's furrowed brow betrayed her concern as she addressed the Oracle. "Oracle, what do you see in the threads of fate? Can you shed light on the dangers this outsider brings?"

The Oracle's voice wavered, her gaze distant as she replied, "My queen, I'm afraid my sight reaches only darkness when I attempt to glimpse the future. There is a strange presence that clouds the threads of destiny, obscuring the paths that lie ahead."

Hippolyta nodded, acknowledging the gravity of the situation. Despite her distaste for the man and men in general she understood that she could not afford to act hastily. They needed to know, know how he go there, what his intentions were, his abilities if there were any and most importantly if he was the only one. She was repulsed at the scenarios that her mind came up with. The oracle had expressed concern over her failing power. One of their eyes may have been blinded but the body could still function regardless.

The Oracle's worry was palpable as she spoke again, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "My queen, I fear that our island's tranquility may be shattered by this outsider's presence. His arrival may herald a storm unlike any we have faced before."

Despite the Oracle's warnings, Hippolyta remained resolute. "We will face whatever challenges come our way together, as we always have," she declared, her voice ringing with determination. "We are Amazons, and we will not falter in the face of adversity. This meeting is over," the oracle bowed and left and so did Artemis. Hippolyta uttered a silent prayer to her gods to give her guidance for the task ahead.

Alassane sat in his cell within the Amazonian jail on Themyscira, his piercing blue eyes held a soft glow in the dark, his demeanor calm and collected despite his imprisonment. His mind, however, is filled with thoughts of liberation and subterfuge. Covered by an aura of normality, he held out his hand focused the mana inside his body bending it to his will, he summoned his familiar, a black dog like beast materialized from the shadows, bearing news of the council's meeting.

As his familiar recounted the details of the discussion, Alassane calmly digested the information. The Oracle's inability to see the future intrigued him, for it presented opportunity. With his intellect and mastery of the arcane, he formulated a plan to exploit this weakness and turn the tide of fate to his advantage.

As he contemplated his next move, Alassane's gaze fell upon the Oracle, the enigmatic figure whose sight pierces the veil of time itself. Intrigued by her connection to fate, he resolved to learn more about her and the extent of her influence over the threads of destiny.

With a sense of purpose burning within him, Alassane began to weave the magic inside him, shaping it, plotting his path to freedom and conquest. For in the heart of the Amazonian jungle, amidst the whispers of ancient magic and the mysteries of the Oracle's visions, he saw not imprisonment, but opportunity. And with each passing moment, his resolve only grew stronger, fueling his ambition to seize control and shape the future according to his will.

New York City

Nick Fury, the seasoned director of S.H.I.E.L.D., paced the dimly lit confines of his office, his brow furrowed with worry. For days, he had been unable to locate Jack, the mysterious figure who appeared seemingly out of nowhere, promising revolutionary technology that could save millions of lives. As Fury considers the implications of Jack's disappearance, a sense of urgency ate at his insides, a feeling that time was slipping away and that they may already be too late.

The walls of Fury's office were fitted with monitors displaying surveillance feeds from around the world, each screen a window into a world full of danger and uncertainty. Yet, despite the vast resources at his disposal, Jack remained elusive, his whereabouts shrouded in mystery.

Fury's mind races with possibilities as he considered the consequences of Jack's technology falling into the wrong hands. In the wrong hands, such power could spell disaster on a global scale, threatening the delicate balance of power that holds the world together.

As he pondered his next move, Fury's gaze fell upon a holographic depiction of the globe, a reminder of the stakes at hand. The faces of the millions of people whose lives hang in the balance stare back at him, their silent plea urging him to find a solution before it's too late.

With a heavy heart and a steely resolve, Fury vows to redouble his efforts in locating Jack and securing the technology he promises. For in a world teetering on the brink of chaos, there is no room for hesitation or delay. The fate of millions hangs in the balance, and Fury knows that failure is not an option.

Metropolis

Lex Luthor, the bald-headed CEO of Lexcorp and a man of boundless ambition sits in his opulent office overlooking the city skyline, his expression, a mask of calculated composure. The mention of Jack, an elusive figure with promises of revolutionary humanity elicits an array of emotions from him.

A mix of curiosity and unease stirred within him. On one hand, the prospect of harnessing such power for his own purposes fills him with excitement, the promise of untold riches and influence tantalizingly within reach. Yet, beneath the surface, a nagging sense of distrust eats at Luthor's conscience, a feeling that Jack's motives may not be as altruistic as they seem.

For Luthor, control was paramount, and the thought of an unknown variable such as Jack wielding such power sent a shiver down his spine. In a world where knowledge is power, Jack represents a threat to Luthor's carefully constructed empire, a wildcard whose actions could upset the delicate balance of power that Luthor has worked so hard to maintain.

Despite his misgivings, Luthor could not deny the allure of Jack's technology, its potential to reshape the world in his image too tempting to ignore. With each passing moment, Luthor's obsession with unraveling the mystery of Jack grew, his determination to uncover the truth driving him to ever greater heights of ambition and ruthlessness.

As he sat in his office, surrounded by the trappings of his wealth and power, Luthor knows that the game is afoot. Whether Jack is friend or foe remains to be seen, but one thing is certain: in the world of Lex Luthor, there is no room for uncertainty, and no obstacle too great to overcome in the pursuit of absolute control.

Themyscira nightfall

Magic can be such a cheat sometime. Alassane thought as he walked out of his prison cell leaving an copy of himself to get more familiar with Themysciran hospitality. Shrouded under an invisibility spell, the Amazonians were none the wiser to his blatant disregard for their security measures. It would be funny to display his strength before them but why ruin the surprise.

He walked confidently across the streets with the practiced familiarity of a native. His familiar had done a stellar job at documenting the layout of the land He reckoned he knew more about the island than some of the locals. His steps left no sound, muffled under a different spell and another to mask his scent. He doubted he would need the last one but it was always better to be over prepared than not.

He marched right into the oracle's tower, completely ignoring the guards who stood outside the premise. If they knew what was happening right under their noses Alassane feared they would die of shame or some other overdramatic nonsense they would come up with.

[Boost]

Alassane used his boosted gear for the first time. Feeling his power double in strength. Not just that, the strength of his spells increased twofold. He figured he could sustain this performance indefinitely if need be. Truly a marvel. He didn't know how resistant Amazonians were to his magic and he didn't want to find out the hard way. He cast a dream spell on the Oracle, cementing his position as some sort of chosen one. Making it so that she would protect him rather than hinder him. He had no plans of staying on Themyscira. He had work to do and his break was over. Themyscira could wait.

New York City

"hello America. It's me again. Fortress is now fully operational as of this moment henceforth. Anyone who lives in areas that are populated by super powered villains who make a habit of playing with people's lives can now enjoy some form of protection, control and assurance of their lives. You can sign up for the program using the app that has been installed in your device. Payment will be monthly, this is non negotiable. I will be making an appearance in two days time to discuss more about the features of this technology. It will also serve as a demonstration for the capabilities of fortress. It will be invite only for safety reasons. That is all.

Shield Helicarier

Son of a…

He did it again. For the second time in less than a week even after their upgrades to their security Jack had so easily bypassed their defenses and proceeded to make his demands and just disappear off the face of the earth again.

Fury pinched his nose and placed his hand on his hip. So far the only thing they discovered was that their defenses had long since been breached. Numerous backdoors, possible leaks of highly confidential information across multiple clearance levels. The list went on. He would have thanked the bastard for bringing this to his attention if he wasn't so busy re evaluating his men. He didn't know who could be trusted anymore. His pride had taken a devastating blow. How could he claim to protect the weak when he couldn't even protect his own. He needed answers and he was going to get them. Everyone slips up. It was only a matter of when. Jack would do so as well and he would be waiting.

Alassane's house

'I should open up a nightclub. That could be interesting,' Alassane thought as he took a sip of apple juice at his table. 'Fortress was doing just fine at the moment. Lots of attempted breaches but nothing I can't handle, becoming part machine was a genius idea,' he was about to sake another sip from the cup when he froze. He remembered something, something he really shouldn't have forgotten. Jessica Jones.

The purple man was having the time of his life. Life was good, he thought as he looked into the eyes of the girl who was going down on him. He really lucked out on this one. The girl raked in loads of money. He didn't even have to do crime. Being her pimp was easy enough and the girl's strength was enough for the both of them. As long as she never broke free of his control they could enjoy life. Well he could, he didn't care whether she enjoyed it or not. Now if only he could expand, probably get himself a roster, then he would rake I the big bucks. That was for later though. Now he just wanted to blow off steam. It was good being him.

His pleasure was stopped abruptly by an ice spear piercing his shoulder. He let out a scream but no voice came out from his mouth. Where did it come from he wondered. It wasn't even winter yet. Jessica shot up from her position, ready to combat her master's aggressor, much to her chagrin. She just wished her would be savior, hadn't missed. She really wanted this nightmare to be over. She didn't care where help came from.

She looked around frantically, hoping that she wouldn't find anyone as she would be forced to engage them. She feared that she would bring them harm and she didn't think the purple man would be feeling merciful after their stunt. To her dismay, she saw a pair of blue eyes in the darkness. Staring straight into her own. She charged the figure and prayed that they could at least put up a fight.

Her fears were unfounded as she found herself heading straight to the ground having tripped over seemingly nothing. A green light struck her and she was rendered immobile. She hated not being in control of herself again. She struggled but found that no matter what she did her body just wouldn't listen. The figure just stared at her with sad eyes. Great, just what she needed, pity. She wanted blood. Killgrave's specifically. She would repay the humiliation she was forced to endure.

The figure waved his hand over her and a light passed through her, calming her down. It was almost forceful but it was effective. The figure spent the next several seconds on silence as if trying to remember something before it finally stopped and released more light at her. What was that light anyway. Some advanced tech or something. Either way she didn't like it. Having things done to her against her will.

Like a switch being flipped, she felt her connection to Killgrave being severed. At the same time she felt her mental defenses strengthen as if covering her up to prevent any further attempts at restraining her. She was free. After so long, so many restless nights, wishing she was dead, hoping that she would wake up in her bed before all this, before her powers, before her parents… and now it was done with the flick of a wrist. Months of torture gone just like that. She stilled.

"This man will die before the sun rises tomorrow, whether it will be by your hands or mine is your choice,"

She felt her strength returning, the effects of whatever drug he administered waning. She could move again. She heard him. She heard him well. She stood up and turned to her torturer, he had a pleading look in his eyes. He was scared of her. Scared of what she would do to him and he was right. She wasn't pulling any punches. Maybe God was real after all. That night she learnt an important lesson. Humans were surprisingly resilient.

She woke up the next day in the most comfortable bed she had ever laid in. Whether is was due to its high quality, her fatigue or the satisfying events of the night before but she felt good. She didn't feel any guilt for her actions. He deserved it, right? Her thought were halted by the sound of the pages of a book being turned. She turned her attention to the young man who was sitting in a fancy chair reading from a large, brown book. The bespectacled youth read a few lines from the book before turning her attention to her. She stiffened, feeling embarrassed at the fact that she was caught staring forgetting that he was the one in the same room she was sleeping in.

"You're finally awake," finally? How long was he waiting there?

"Someone dropped you off here so I'm assuming you have nowhere else to go,"

He wasn't the one that helped her? And he's asking questions. She wasn't liking this at all

"why do you want to know?"

He blinked then smiled as if realizing something.

"You're right. That was insensitive of me. I shouldn't pick on the homeless. It's probably better for me if I don't know."

Her eye twitched. She hated him now. How rude.

"if you're done sleeping on my bed with your dirty, stinky, bloody self, you can join me for breakfast. You don't have to but I will require you to leave afterwards anyway. I won't be in and I don't trust you homeless people enough to leave you in my house,"

What? Oh she was still wearing yesterday's clothes. So that's why he was so bitchy. It didn't give him the right to be rude about it. He didn't know what she had been through. He didn't know what she had been through. Was this a fresh start? Did her benefactor think ahead and did this for her?

"You didn't have any clean clothes with you so I'm giving you some of mine,"

Was he crying?

"You can take a shower… or not. I mean you already ruined my bed, why stop there? I have a whole house just waiting for you to ruin as well,"

And we're back to square one.

"Stinky brat, the nerve of some people,"

Ok. Minus square one. And with that he left. Probably thought she didn't hear him but she did. She got out of bed and saw that maybe he wasn't so wrong. That was going to leave a mark. She walked over to the table where he set the book down. It was written in a foreign language that she wasn't familiar with. Looking over the clothes she found that they were of good quality, pretty new as well. No wonder he was so emotional.

Taking a quick shower, she went downstairs to find a beautifully set table filled with different assortments. You had your usual pancakes and coffee, bacon and eggs to one side. And the rarer marshmallows blueberries and strawberries. She wasn't going to have breakfast at first but damn if that didn't look appetizing.

"ah you're done, you can-"

His words trailed off to an awkward silence. He stood there momentarily lost in thought, his gaze fixed upon her. As quickly as the moment came it left. He cleared his throat and went to refill his already full cup of coffee.

"There's food. Eat,"

She sat down at the table, helping herself to the meal. She had worked up quite the appetite. It was good. Really good.

"Did you make this?" she asked looking up from her meal.

"No it was my dog Brutus," he answered offhandedly.

"You have a dog?"

"No, it's… just finish you food,"

Heh. Got 'em.

She stuffed herself completely ignoring the disapproving look that he gave her.

After breakfast, as she was a about to leave he handed her a letter. Perhaps it was an apology letter he wrote for her. Probably not but she could dream.

"I can't take this," she said when she noticed what was inside the letter, three thousand dollars

"pff- I didn't give you shit. If you want you can give it to me. I won't say no. Especially not to money. Word of advice though, pride isn't going to feed you and house you. People who are full are also know to be extremely foolish,"

"Just give me the damn money," she was so done with him. Couldn't go two sentences without insulting her. At least she would be gone from this place shortly. Where would she go though? It didn't matter. All that did matter was that it was going to be her decision.

[Boost]

Clean

'Dirty dirty girl. My fucking bed. It's ruined now. I don't think I can use it again. Last time I let people use my enchanted shit. Ingrates.'

Anyway. Should I use Amazo on my knights? They're good enough on their own but just imagine an army of supermen under my command. What am I even thinking. Of course I'm gonna upgrade.

New York skyline

Empowered. Peter thought as he swung form one building to another. He was faster, more agile, better than ever. He felt alive. Peter spotted a crime. Just another day in New York City. That was the fourth time just this morning and he still had class. You'd think they would have gotten the memo by now but criminals nowadays were notoriously stubborn. Between him and the avengers. Sometimes even the x men or worst of all Superman they kind of had to be.

The black sleek sedan was parked outside of the local bank. Four masked men, each brandishing a gun came out of the vehicle.

"Grab the cash, move it,"

Their leader, a burly man, barked out orders as the rest of his team followed. They broke the glass doors, causing the alarms to blare but they paid it no heed. They knew what they were doing.

Spiderman swung into action, his black suit glistened in the sunlight as he descended forcefully onto the street. Right onto their escape vehicle. The criminals froze, their eyes widening.

"What the hell are you doing, keep moving,"

The leader shouted as he aimed his gun at the webslinger. Before he could pull the trigger, peter shot a web at his gun yanking it our of his hand and swinging it back to the leader's face with great force. The leader fell hard on his back.

"shit, you've done it now. Get him!"

The other thugs scrambled to shoot Spider-Man but again they proved too slow as he simply summersaulted out of the way. He used his tendrils to knock one of the thugs out cold. The other was pulled towards him where he met a similar fate as his comrade.

"You're dead spider!"

The leader, now mad with rage charged at peter, fists swinging but was met with a solid punch to the cheek that he would definitely be feeling when he woke up later.

The last of the thugs, seeing his gang fall so easily dropped his weapon and got on his knees, hands in the air.

"not today bozo,"

Spiderman was about to finish the sorry excuse of a man when he heard police sirens in the distance. Finally, how is it that they were always late when it mattered.

"You got lucky,"

Spiderman said as he swung away, leaving behind a slightly traumatized man to think about his life decisions.

He was going to be late for class, as usual but at least he felt damn good.

Evening New York City

'Mission accomplished,' Alassane pat himself on his back for his good work. Now I'm ready to start a war and have a good chance of winning should the need arise. He glanced at the book in his hand. He had long since memorized the contents of the book but kept it just in case.

If the book was right, he needed all the strength he could get his hands on. He wasn't a welcome party here. The universe would not respond well to his presence. He understood this and prepared for it. Many would have him dead with the same excuse. He would not fault them for this, he would fault himself for not being strong enough to defend himself. To have no choice on the matter.

Now that his personal strength were at an acceptable level. He needed allies to call his own. The reason the factions do not want a war with each other was because of the risk of death. They didn't know how powerful he was just yet and he intended to keep it that way for a long time. Instead he was going to surround himself with powerful figures that were well known to dissuade those who fancy themselves God from taking rash action.

The first step of course would be Xavier's Institute. I have a mutant war to join. But first, hero work.

In the quiet of her room, she lay awake, her eyes, wide open as her mind raced. Her sheets were tangled and sweats drops trickled down her forehead. That was the third time this week. What were those dreams anyway? Where did she even learn some of those things? Was she always like this?

At first she thought it was just a crush. I mean he was hot and a great cook, dressed well, funny and hot. He was basically asking her to fall head over heels for him. That was his fault not hers. He even had the same interests as her. She even scored a date with him that weekend. They were going to watch a movie together.

She had always loved the big screen. She had dreams of being a big time actress. To break the cycle of the women in her family. Sacrificing their dreams for love. Love that failed. She didn't want to be the next link in the chain. Her mother gave up her dream of becoming an actress and now they were stuck with an abusive father that made it feel like they were loving with a ticking bomb, never knowing when it would set off. Her sister was in a similar situation being divorced and with kids. That wasn't going to be her.

She hoped it wouldn't be her, especially with how things were going. She was having wild sex with the man she only saw once every night, every time she closed her eyes she could feel him there pinning her down, tying her up, eating her out, chaining her up. It was hell. And she loved every second of it. She loved every second of it just as much as she feared it. Would she be able to stop him if he took initiative? Would her body listen to her? Would she want it to?

It was getting late and she had school the next day. At least she always got enough sleep each night as crazy as that might sound.

Oh fuck yes! Another successful cumming completed. Who knew she had a thing for young men. Young, strong, dependable men with nice big arms. Aunt May turned in her bed and got off leaving a sloppy mess behind her. It started a few days ago, after the dinner at the new neighbor's place. She had these dreams, these cravings for things that weren't hers.

She was no stranger to these desires. She was young once and she had had her fun. Probably more than she should have. Hopefully Peter would never find out. But why? If it was so wrong why did it feel so good. At least Peter wasn't in to witness her in such a dirty state. He was probably out swinging his webs, being a hero or whatever.

Yeah she knew. Of course she knew. Peter was simultaneously one of the smartest and dumbest people in the world. If the frequent disappearances at the strangest times and unexplained injuries weren't enough proof then maybe passing out in his suit was a sure bet confirmation. She had to leave the house when she found him to spare him the worry. He had enough on his plate as is. She just wished it spared her the worry. Even now he was outside fighting what only God knew. He just prayed he was safe.

But back to more important matters, she was living the dream. She got to re live some of her youthful days without hurting anybody. She saw how Mary Jane looked at him. She was far gone. At the same time she was relieving her stress, being a widowed single parent(more than she would ever admit) to a superhero teenager was stressful to say the least. She needed some relief. No she deserved it. She wasn't sure how long they would last but she was sure as hell going to spend every second of it enjoying herself or her name wasn't May Parker. Time for bed. Again.