In MCU with One for All -Chapter 18

Snippet Winner!
A chapter after almost two months now! Had to do some dusting off the old chapters to get upto speed.

Another one incoming in about 5 hours, when I get the energy to edit it. Enjoy~!

Disclaimer - All the usual Yada Yada Yada. I don’t own any rights to any characters in this fic, save for my OCs. Marvel owns them. Don’t sue me.

Earth - 16969 [MCU AU]

Rio De Janeiro[2009] 

–Jamie Bell–

And just like that, almost two days passed, with him settling into the routine of watching over Bruce. He had a bold idea the other day and thought of jumping over the factory to keep a closer eye on Bruce, but the solid ceilings with no glass windows to speak of meant that idea was a very bad one.

So, he surveilled Bruce in the following order.

During the night, the man burned the midnight oil, with his lights on, only dimming when the clock hit at least 3 AM. He supposed that being the Hulk, even in his unpowered form, came with some benefits at the very least. A very tiny silver lining to being Hulk.

Then, Bruce woke up, used the communal washrooms to freshen up, though freshen was used very lightly here. Then, he went back to his accommodations, like clockwork, changed his clothes, and came out of the shacks, just like hundreds of others, all with that same dead-in-the-eyes look.

Just like dozens of other workers, Bruce grabbed a cheap bread based breakfast from one of the hawkers set up at the opening shift time, paid him, and then went into the factory, to work there for the entire day.

Bruce did not come out until at least 1.5 shifts were done; sometimes he did two. It would seem that the resident Anger-given-form, needed some extra money, or just needed a monotonous job to get away from the constant stress, whatever worked his boat.

Presumably, they had some sort of cafeteria in the factory itself, else he would be really worried about Bruce and his food intake. Then, Bruce would get out of the factory, and head home to rinse and repeat.

It was day three of his surveillance, and to be honest, he was starting to get a little tired now. The little sleep, the stiff positions, the lack of cushioning in any of his stakeout places, and most of all, the lack of any action was boring him. 

The lack of action should be making him glad because it meant less threat of life, but right now? He just wanted this mission to be over with, so he could get back to Kamar Taj and, more importantly, get back to his quaint little home in Thailand.

He would never sell that place, never. He might sell his parents’ place back in Vancouver if need be but not that one in Bangkok. Plus, with the way the Canadian Real Estate market was booming, he might just be able to buy up the surrounding plots if he wanted to, if he just sold his house to bloodsucking, faceless private equity instead of, you know, real people.

Hmm. faceless, creepy, actually destroying the lives of many young people, but a shit ton of money OR Real Life people with actual lives, working to move forward in life with little money?

Somehow, a Moral Dilemma that many people can choose instantly, with the wrong choice being chosen most of the time.

“The young generation is going to have it rough in the future,” He muttered to himself, and if someone heard him say that, they would just give him the signature old, annoying looney look before moving on, not willing to listen to the wisdom that comes with age.

In the background of the office building he was in, multiple claws made up of Dimensional Energy were wheezing around, throwing and catching literal chunks of the building itself, having taken out multiple walls, with the goal being training.

He wanted to see just how much weight these claws could lift with the least amount of size, both, for Dimensional Energy taken from the universe and from his internal reserves. 

A low level stealth spell was also cast on the room, so the commotion did not gather any interest but to be honest? He was tempted to just drop the stealth to finally get some action but that would mean startling pure Bruce and that was not something he would do, no matter how boring and monotonous it got.

It was funny, he should be really patient, being one of the elder apprentices and all that, but somehow, he was just itching to go back to Kamar Taj, work on his magic, and do awesome wizard stuff. So much so that he was training even right now, which was unadvised at Kamar Taj since you were supposed to be at your best for a mission.

Especially since most missions at Kamar Taj involved one or more kinds of demonic influence, something that could do in the most powerful of Sorcerers if they let their guards down even for a minute.

Well, it was a good thing that this was just Bruce and not some demon.

He looked up, the claws freezing in the background as they gently placed the bricks on the ground, the sound of screeching tires hitting his ears. It was faint but a minute or so later, the sound of helicopter blades hit his senses as well. 

Instinctively, he applied reinforcement to his ears and winced as the shrill sound of rubber being burnt and the rotors slicing through air hit him, making him cancel the spell immediately. He channeled the life injury through his body, the Chi making him feel just the slightest bit more energy as he straightened up, ready for some action.

He peeked through the window, watching as seven Blacked out SUVs, with no number plates, stopped right at the gate, with only a single unarmed person stepping out, along with dozens of heavily armed ones.

Odd, he thought to himself. These did not seem to be US Military. More like mercenaries hired to do their dirty job. The way the unarmed person conversing with the guards seemed scared of them told him that he did not trust these guys.

The guards at the gate had already dropped their meagre weapons, sticks and batons to the ground when they first sighted the automatic rifle. Their bodies only increased trembling as they saw the number of people and the number of weapons.

Smart of them to do so.

Meanwhile, the people having stepped out had formed a loose perimeter around the gate, keeping watch over every single building, and angle, their guns ready to shred through anyone.

Taking a deep breath, he prepared to finally move, as the guards moved away, opening the gate fully for the armed mercenaries, as they piled into their cars and moved into the factory, with who knows how much heavy ammunition in their cars.

Meanwhile, the helicopter itself was not visible to him, but he was in a building and did not have much room to step out because of the spell being cast on the windows. Any movement and they might dispel and expose his position, forcing him to just nope! Out of a place that could be RPGed at any moment.

Taking a deep breath, he let the Chi fade away, bringing with it a renewed sense of energy in his body, as a thin sheen of Dimensional Energy formed on top of his head and his torso, as he donned the signature red robes of Kamar Taj, used to signify his status as an apprentice of Kamar Taj.

Well, after today, he would not be one anymore. He would get those damned yellow robes and become a Master of the Mystic Arts.

Casting a stealth spell over himself, one that only bent light around him, he disappeared from everyone’s view as he landed on the ground and rolled immediately to reduce the sound of impact. 

He had to remind himself that only light was bent around him. Sounds made by him could still be heard. He slipped through the gates, one of the lights turning red, most likely due to some sort of motion sensor but since the guards were busy running for their lives, no one was present to stop him.

Up ahead, he could already hear the sound of chaos, but thankfully, no bullet sounds just yet, so he was not too late. In the meantime, he had already spotted the helicopter, far as it was. Most likely, that was from the military, communicating with the cabal of mercenaries in the factory.

He ran through the factory, the map of the place flashing through his mind, as he made sure to stay in places with low light, just in case someone was looking at him too closely.

Within two minutes, he was in the secondary complex where Bruce worked. The next minute, he was at the building where Bruce worked.

The mercenaries, apparently, were either stupid enough not to check the employee manifesto, or these people did not keep one for them to access. Either way, this made his job easier, as the mercenaries were going through each and every building to flush out the workers.

Ross was probably hoping for the Hulk to come out, knowing quite well what extreme stress and anxiety did to Bruce.

Bastard.

Five minutes had passed since he got into the compound, and he was now going through the assembly lines, following the product, hoping that he would see Bruce. So far, this place was remarkably empty, with only 17 people he could spot.

None of them had the right skin tone, though, so he kept looking.

Hopefully, he could impress upon Bruce the danger he was in and convince the man to come with him to Kamar Taj.

A safe place? He would make that work.

A place to learn magic? Now that would be a hard sell, especially in the middle of a high stakes mission like this.