Harlem, New York
"Hey, man. It's Peter." Shocked, he pulled the phone from his ear and looked at the screen to ensure it was Peter Parker.
Cole didn't necessarily dislike the hero. His favorite comic book character was Spiderman. He could tell that Parker didn't like him.
He could recall it vividly, something he contributed to his growing mind prowess. His first comic purchase was Spiderman, and his parents had taken him to the local comic shop.
The issue was they had divergent beliefs; the longer he traveled down the path of his own making, the farther he and those he called heroes would depart from similar thoughts. It would be tiring to battle his heroes, An undertaking he wouldn't want to make on good conscience.
'If I must live in this universe, I'll live on my terms.' He thought resolutely.
"I will see you tonight," he said, ending the call.
Parker had made it clear that he had informed him at the behest of Ms. Hammers. Speaking of Ms. Hammers, he still hadn't returned her email about his tech. It seem the hammers were interested.
He brought up the H.U.D. as he now had a pair of contacts. He made a note for himself and empowered the bat computer burgeoning A. I do remind him.
His class was getting together for the annual winter ball. Supposedly, it consisted of prom-like activities and evening gatherings by the sophomores, juniors, seniors, and first-year students could attend if they were a date of one of the students.
He did feel a slight pang of sadness that Liz Allen hadn't contacted him. He hesitated on whether he should message her but ultimately decided against it. He stamped down on his emotions. There was no need to be angered or sad about her not checking on him.
He had shown them something they possibly couldn't comprehend and had reinforced his already bad reputation as a thug in his mask slipping.
Bizarrely, Flash Thompson had received sympathy. He shook his head at how popularity and privilege went hand in hand in high schools.
His deeds had spread around school, and the more athletic and popular teens had hated him for outing their star quarterback.
Peter hadn't mentioned the fight, but his tone had away his displeasure. He reflected on the moment Parker, no Spiderman had wanted to harm him at one point. He was sure he had alarmed the human mutate, and the teen hero had seen him as a threat.
He couldn't believe Parker would stand against him instead of his bully.
He laughed aloud, drawing the curious gaze of Anne.
"Something funny?" She asked, hopping beside him.
He opened his mail folder, finding Ms Hammers offer letter. He read over it, noticing glaring loopholes he was sure were customary when companies wanted sole production rights. He forwarded it to his lawyer, hoping the man had formed a team to handle the load he was about to thrust on him.
He needed the connection, and he had wanted to compete against Oscorp and Stark, and who better to boost him into their ranks than the inept Heir to the Hammers?
He hadn't thought about the issue since it happened. He recalled the Principal tirade and utter dislike of him. He also remembered the agent standing back, hand near his service weapon.
"It was something at school." He answered.
Midtown High was a front for the government and other organizations. Stark, Baxter Building, Hammer Industries, Oscorp, and his company York were major stakeholders, while S.H.I.E.L.D. monitored any outstanding students.
Speaking of companies, he needed to look into Rand Corporation. Iron Fist hadn't shown himself, and Cole thought he never would, at least not the Rand heir, knowing the Iron Fist would be chosen amongst other students.
He had done so much since then that it seemed like last year to his perspective.
"Who called, though?" Anne asked.
"Someone from school."
"And?" Anne pressed, eyebrow arched in curiosity
He turned, his eyes roaming her up and down; Anne scowled and folded her arms, barely covering herself from his inspection.
He had an idea. He hoped Jeremy was okay with it. His love for Gwen was overwhelming at times. He wondered if Peter would be there with her.
"Tonight is a gathering of our classmates. We will attend and get you a head start on connecting with the class." He placed his hand on her chin. Anne's hand snapped at him, but Cole didn't register her hit. Her outfit changed, causing her to shriek and jump back.
She grumbled in displeasure as she adjusted herself, as she hadn't worn underwear beforehand.
Cole smiled knowingly.
"What the hell." She exclaimed.
"Perfect." He said, turning toward the door, his wardrobe changing.
"You can't just disrobe women creep." She called after him. He laughed and beckoned the teen onward.
He departed the iceberg through the freight elevator that let out inside the alley.
"Are we not taking a car?" Anne looked around, wanting to drive one of the fancy cars again.
"Nope. We're taking the subway."
The two walked. Anne talked a lot, Cole answered some answers, and others told her to shut up outright. Something she didn't need to know and others she needed to find the answers independently.
Anne grumbled and removed a thin, folded tablet from her cargo pants. He had added it when he changed her wardrobe. A.T.C. logo on the back. It was tech from his new company. It was an item customary with F.E.A.R. (First Encounter Assualt Recon squads.
New information had also come with more technology that he could purchase. He had long realized that his companies would be a significant factor in his endeavor not to be swept away by events out of his control.
Lexcorp( in name only) would tackle pharmaceuticals, namely super-solider serum, vaccinations, and medical research. He had already planned to make it into a global brand on the level of the Red Cross.
He stopped. "You need to check on Kevin." He said, forgetting his first test subject.
Anne rolled her eyes. "He has already taken the shot, no side effects except for his veins glowing red." She pulled her phone out to show him a picture Kevin had sent her.
Cole grabbed the phone, studying the picture. "This is to be expected," he muttered.
"Make sure he doesn't do anything outside of the training area. I'd hate to come home to a destroyed building."
Anne snatched her phone back. She grumbled something that he heard but chose to ignore it.
"Whatever. Give someone something and walk away. I see why you were good at selling drugs now." She admonished.
Cole chuckled, flipped his hand over for theatrics, and a kilo of cocaine in a neat package appeared in the palm of his hand.
"Selling drugs doesn't sound bad right about now." He teased her. Anne's eyes bulged.
"Are you insane," she hissed, looking around. "This is Harlem; if someone sees that-"
She paused and sighed, remembering who she was talking to.
"Yeah. Whatever. Please don't get me shot. I'm just regular, unlike you guys." She deadpanned.
He laughed at her and continued toward their destination.
With A.T.C. in his palm, he had access to birthing technologies. In all seriousness, it was nasty science, cloning, and experiments on children; fortunately, he didn't need to go that route as he accessed the finished project.
Harlem would become known in the future. He had plans to turn it into a business paradise.
Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to gain a sentient computer yet. Admittedly, his bat computer was coming along, but it still wasn't true A.I.
He wanted something similar to apocalyptian tech. He had already looked. The mother box was one hundred million, and the father box was almost ten billion.
Here he was excited about becoming a millionaire, only to be faced with another level of brokenness
He had access to Star Gate, Predator, and Star Trek tech in the specialty shop, which was limited but still added to what he could bring.
His first order of business would be to bring out A.T.C. and then create his own Replica forces, and hopefully be able to make another Pointe Man, who was originally the first son of Alma Wade, a powerful psionic.
The Point Man's powers were beyond what A.T.C. personnel had expected; his quick reflexes were surgically enhanced under orders from Armacham president Genevieve Aristide.
Cole knew that Point Man was, for all purposes, a super soldier with telepathic abilities. He could theoretically create clones of the man with the pods. He would need to hire more people, especially once he starts the company today.
He had made it to his destination. Unfortunately, some individuals were tailing them. He knew it wasn't the Carmichales. Kaecillus was taking care of the brothers.
He mentally ordered a boas drone to intervene on his behalf. He had purchased more at the behest of Angelica. But, after seeing them in action, he had a newfound respect for the drones and would see about upgrading them.
"Don't act suspicious, but we're being followed." He said, his face not giving away his notice.
Anne laughed. "Too bad for them."
He chuckled at her response. "Indeed," he said, coming to a halt.
He continued. "This should be perfect."
They both stared at the thirty-floor abandoned hotel.
"125th Street is a shithole," Anne said, looking around the street at the old building.
He didn't refute her observation. It was, in fact, a shitty part of the city; it was invaluable to him, nevertheless.
"You want to open a hotel or something," she asked.
'Assasins,' he thought, sparing attention to the drone footage.
He ignored the trio that had begun to cross the street from the abandoned Apollo Theatre.
Cole reached out and grabbed Anne's hand. She reacted, attempting to pull away, but he held firm, placed his free hand on the boarded-up hotel door, and accessed the system. Unlike the Redoubt and Iceberg Lounge, the process wasn't instantaneous.
His mind became flooded with the background information of the building. Prompts emerged, and he accepted and adjusted the creation process, the system asking him how he wanted to proceed.
He put the building under Jeremy York's name, which tied into the already easily understood reason.
Anne squeezed his hand in dread, witnessing the transformation. The world was grey outside his bubble, and cars and citizens stopped.
Anne cried out, but he ignored her. He should have explained it to her, but she would need to get used to these things.
"Calm down," Jeremy said, grabbing Anne from around the waist and pulling her closer.
"What are you." She exclaimed.
"Ask me that in another year." He replied subduedly as he watched the system finish the construction.
"Armacham Technology Corporation," he chuckled.
"This…" Anne muttered in awe, watching the construction.
"Amazing, right? Mega corporations just like that."
Another prompt emerged before his eyes.
System message: Hidden milestone achieved, Founder. Reward: Kara' Kesh & Hara' Kesh Ring
He had earned another hidden milestone, and the reward, or rewards, made a smile stretch across his face as information sprouted in his head.
Kara' Kesh and its sister companion Hara'Kesh were powerful Goa'uld technology. The only alarming aspect was the Naquadah injection required to use the technology.
Naquadah is a rare, super-dense mineral used by many races inside Stargate. Its most basic use is as a weapon: Naquadah greatly amplifies energy, making it highly potent with explosives.
Due to its unique properties, Naquadah forms the basis for many advanced technologies; the Stargates are composed almost entirely of Naquadah. Naquadah is also present in the bloodstream of the Goa'uld, which allows them to control their technologies and sense the presence of a Stargate and other symbiotes.
He looked over his shoulder as the greyscale world receded. He equipped his new weaponry, the gauntlet like Kara' Kesh forming around his right hand and wrist, while the small, more discrete Hara' Kesh ring appeared on his left hand.
He ignored the pinch from the Goa'uld artifact. The liquid mineral injection dropped his body temperature as it raced throughout his bloodstream, rewriting his genetic code at a rate impossible without the system.
Realistically, it was idiotic to allow something to be injected inside of him. Still, the system had no reason to harm him. Its only purpose was his empowerment, and he got a boost in that regard, unable to use Goa'uld technology.
He leaned to the side and whispered into Anne's ear. She nodded, and he subsequently adjusted her clothes, adding an Asgardian mesh from the stargate section of the shop and giving her one of the Hara'Kesh rings.
The goa'uld tech wouldn't work without the genetic moniker, so he had warned her. He was compiling a lot of tech that he needed to think about what to distribute to his people.
He pushed Anne forward. She had already been told what to do. He looked at the new cold and depressing skyscraper that now populated Harlem.
Armacham Technology Corporation had been built by his father and abandoned after its construction. Like the Iceberg Lounge, it had been closed and not in operation.
"I guess the time to regret is past us." He said, stretching his arms wide atop the steps to his new business.
As he expected, nobody took a teen seriously. The lady attacked first, her partners hanging back, securing the area.
Her palm slammed into his face. Cole stared at her, the lady's eyes enlarging before she folded over, his fist embedded deep into her gut.
He followed her convulsing body to the ground, his eyes locked on the other two assailants. His focus phased imperceptibly. He had received a system prompt. A sinister smile stretched across his face.
"My family has made their move. The system had shown him which relationship changed from
Indifference to murderous.
The group was indeed an assassin outfit. Something had changed, and his departure from
The orphaned shouldn't have been taken that badly.
Maybe it was his lawyering up and challenging the trustees over his company.
Cole strolled down the steps, arms folded behind his back as the two assailants drew guns. Their compatriot groaned on the ground, debilitated by the alien tech.
Harlem, New York
"Hey, man. It's Peter." Shocked, he pulled the phone from his ear and looked at the screen to ensure it was Peter Parker.
Cole didn't necessarily dislike the hero. His favorite comic book character was Spiderman. He could tell that Parker didn't like him.
He could recall it vividly, something he contributed to his growing mind prowess. His first comic purchase was Spiderman, and his parents had taken him to the local comic shop.
The issue was they had divergent beliefs; the longer he traveled down the path of his own making, the farther he and those he called heroes would depart from similar thoughts. It would be tiring to battle his heroes, An undertaking he wouldn't want to make on good conscience.
'If I must live in this universe, I'll live on my terms.' He thought resolutely.
"I will see you tonight," he said, ending the call.
Parker had made it clear that he had informed him at the behest of Ms. Hammers. Speaking of Ms. Hammers, he still hadn't returned her email about his tech. It seem the hammers were interested.
He brought up the H.U.D. as he now had a pair of contacts. He made a note for himself and empowered the bat computer burgeoning A. I do remind him.
His class was getting together for the annual winter ball. Supposedly, it consisted of prom-like activities and evening gatherings by the sophomores, juniors, seniors, and first-year students could attend if they were a date of one of the students.
He did feel a slight pang of sadness that Liz Allen hadn't contacted him. He hesitated on whether he should message her but ultimately decided against it. He stamped down on his emotions. There was no need to be angered or sad about her not checking on him.
He had shown them something they possibly couldn't comprehend and had reinforced his already bad reputation as a thug in his mask slipping.
Bizarrely, Flash Thompson had received sympathy. He shook his head at how popularity and privilege went hand in hand in high schools.
His deeds had spread around school, and the more athletic and popular teens had hated him for outing their star quarterback.
Peter hadn't mentioned the fight, but his tone had away his displeasure. He reflected on the moment Parker, no Spiderman had wanted to harm him at one point. He was sure he had alarmed the human mutate, and the teen hero had seen him as a threat.
He couldn't believe Parker would stand against him instead of his bully.
He laughed aloud, drawing the curious gaze of Anne.
"Something funny?" She asked, hopping beside him.
He opened his mail folder, finding Ms Hammers offer letter. He read over it, noticing glaring loopholes he was sure were customary when companies wanted sole production rights. He forwarded it to his lawyer, hoping the man had formed a team to handle the load he was about to thrust on him.
He needed the connection, and he had wanted to compete against Oscorp and Stark, and who better to boost him into their ranks than the inept Heir to the Hammers?
He hadn't thought about the issue since it happened. He recalled the Principal tirade and utter dislike of him. He also remembered the agent standing back, hand near his service weapon.
"It was something at school." He answered.
Midtown High was a front for the government and other organizations. Stark, Baxter Building, Hammer Industries, Oscorp, and his company York were major stakeholders, while S.H.I.E.L.D. monitored any outstanding students.
Speaking of companies, he needed to look into Rand Corporation. Iron Fist hadn't shown himself, and Cole thought he never would, at least not the Rand heir, knowing the Iron Fist would be chosen amongst other students.
He had done so much since then that it seemed like last year to his perspective.
"Who called, though?" Anne asked.
"Someone from school."
"And?" Anne pressed, eyebrow arched in curiosity
He turned, his eyes roaming her up and down; Anne scowled and folded her arms, barely covering herself from his inspection.
He had an idea. He hoped Jeremy was okay with it. His love for Gwen was overwhelming at times. He wondered if Peter would be there with her.
"Tonight is a gathering of our classmates. We will attend and get you a head start on connecting with the class." He placed his hand on her chin. Anne's hand snapped at him, but Cole didn't register her hit. Her outfit changed, causing her to shriek and jump back.
She grumbled in displeasure as she adjusted herself, as she hadn't worn underwear beforehand.
Cole smiled knowingly.
"What the hell." She exclaimed.
"Perfect." He said, turning toward the door, his wardrobe changing.
"You can't just disrobe women creep." She called after him. He laughed and beckoned the teen onward.
He departed the iceberg through the freight elevator that let out inside the alley.
"Are we not taking a car?" Anne looked around, wanting to drive one of the fancy cars again.
"Nope. We're taking the subway."
The two walked. Anne talked a lot, Cole answered some answers, and others told her to shut up outright. Something she didn't need to know and others she needed to find the answers independently.
Anne grumbled and removed a thin, folded tablet from her cargo pants. He had added it when he changed her wardrobe. A.T.C. logo on the back. It was tech from his new company. It was an item customary with F.E.A.R. (First Encounter Assualt Recon squads.
New information had also come with more technology that he could purchase. He had long realized that his companies would be a significant factor in his endeavor not to be swept away by events out of his control.
Lexcorp( in name only) would tackle pharmaceuticals, namely super-solider serum, vaccinations, and medical research. He had already planned to make it into a global brand on the level of the Red Cross.
He stopped. "You need to check on Kevin." He said, forgetting his first test subject.
Anne rolled her eyes. "He has already taken the shot, no side effects except for his veins glowing red." She pulled her phone out to show him a picture Kevin had sent her.
Cole grabbed the phone, studying the picture. "This is to be expected," he muttered.
"Make sure he doesn't do anything outside of the training area. I'd hate to come home to a destroyed building."
Anne snatched her phone back. She grumbled something that he heard but chose to ignore it.
"Whatever. Give someone something and walk away. I see why you were good at selling drugs now." She admonished.
Cole chuckled, flipped his hand over for theatrics, and a kilo of cocaine in a neat package appeared in the palm of his hand.
"Selling drugs doesn't sound bad right about now." He teased her. Anne's eyes bulged.
"Are you insane," she hissed, looking around. "This is Harlem; if someone sees that-"
She paused and sighed, remembering who she was talking to.
"Yeah. Whatever. Please don't get me shot. I'm just regular, unlike you guys." She deadpanned.
He laughed at her and continued toward their destination.
With A.T.C. in his palm, he had access to birthing technologies. In all seriousness, it was nasty science, cloning, and experiments on children; fortunately, he didn't need to go that route as he accessed the finished project.
Harlem would become known in the future. He had plans to turn it into a business paradise.
Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to gain a sentient computer yet. Admittedly, his bat computer was coming along, but it still wasn't true A.I.
He wanted something similar to apocalyptian tech. He had already looked. The mother box was one hundred million, and the father box was almost ten billion.
Here he was excited about becoming a millionaire, only to be faced with another level of brokenness
He had access to Star Gate, Predator, and Star Trek tech in the specialty shop, which was limited but still added to what he could bring.
His first order of business would be to bring out A.T.C. and then create his own Replica forces, and hopefully be able to make another Pointe Man, who was originally the first son of Alma Wade, a powerful psionic.
The Point Man's powers were beyond what A.T.C. personnel had expected; his quick reflexes were surgically enhanced under orders from Armacham president Genevieve Aristide.
Cole knew that Point Man was, for all purposes, a super soldier with telepathic abilities. He could theoretically create clones of the man with the pods. He would need to hire more people, especially once he starts the company today.
He had made it to his destination. Unfortunately, some individuals were tailing them. He knew it wasn't the Carmichales. Kaecillus was taking care of the brothers.
He mentally ordered a boas drone to intervene on his behalf. He had purchased more at the behest of Angelica. But, after seeing them in action, he had a newfound respect for the drones and would see about upgrading them.
"Don't act suspicious, but we're being followed." He said, his face not giving away his notice.
Anne laughed. "Too bad for them."
He chuckled at her response. "Indeed," he said, coming to a halt.
He continued. "This should be perfect."
They both stared at the thirty-floor abandoned hotel.
"125th Street is a shithole," Anne said, looking around the street at the old building.
He didn't refute her observation. It was, in fact, a shitty part of the city; it was invaluable to him, nevertheless.
"You want to open a hotel or something," she asked.
'Assasins,' he thought, sparing attention to the drone footage.
He ignored the trio that had begun to cross the street from the abandoned Apollo Theatre.
Cole reached out and grabbed Anne's hand. She reacted, attempting to pull away, but he held firm, placed his free hand on the boarded-up hotel door, and accessed the system. Unlike the Redoubt and Iceberg Lounge, the process wasn't instantaneous.
His mind became flooded with the background information of the building. Prompts emerged, and he accepted and adjusted the creation process, the system asking him how he wanted to proceed.
He put the building under Jeremy York's name, which tied into the already easily understood reason.
Anne squeezed his hand in dread, witnessing the transformation. The world was grey outside his bubble, and cars and citizens stopped.
Anne cried out, but he ignored her. He should have explained it to her, but she would need to get used to these things.
"Calm down," Jeremy said, grabbing Anne from around the waist and pulling her closer.
"What are you." She exclaimed.
"Ask me that in another year." He replied subduedly as he watched the system finish the construction.
"Armacham Technology Corporation," he chuckled.
"This…" Anne muttered in awe, watching the construction.
"Amazing, right? Mega corporations just like that."
Another prompt emerged before his eyes.
System message: Hidden milestone achieved, Founder. Reward: Kara' Kesh & Hara' Kesh Ring
He had earned another hidden milestone, and the reward, or rewards, made a smile stretch across his face as information sprouted in his head.
Kara' Kesh and its sister companion Hara'Kesh were powerful Goa'uld technology. The only alarming aspect was the Naquadah injection required to use the technology.
Naquadah is a rare, super-dense mineral used by many races inside Stargate. Its most basic use is as a weapon: Naquadah greatly amplifies energy, making it highly potent with explosives.
Due to its unique properties, Naquadah forms the basis for many advanced technologies; the Stargates are composed almost entirely of Naquadah. Naquadah is also present in the bloodstream of the Goa'uld, which allows them to control their technologies and sense the presence of a Stargate and other symbiotes.
He looked over his shoulder as the greyscale world receded. He equipped his new weaponry, the gauntlet like Kara' Kesh forming around his right hand and wrist, while the small, more discrete Hara' Kesh ring appeared on his left hand.
He ignored the pinch from the Goa'uld artifact. The liquid mineral injection dropped his body temperature as it raced throughout his bloodstream, rewriting his genetic code at a rate impossible without the system.
Realistically, it was idiotic to allow something to be injected inside of him. Still, the system had no reason to harm him. Its only purpose was his empowerment, and he got a boost in that regard, unable to use Goa'uld technology.
He leaned to the side and whispered into Anne's ear. She nodded, and he subsequently adjusted her clothes, adding an Asgardian mesh from the stargate section of the shop and giving her one of the Hara'Kesh rings.
The goa'uld tech wouldn't work without the genetic moniker, so he had warned her. He was compiling a lot of tech that he needed to think about what to distribute to his people.
He pushed Anne forward. She had already been told what to do. He looked at the new cold and depressing skyscraper that now populated Harlem.
Armacham Technology Corporation had been built by his father and abandoned after its construction. Like the Iceberg Lounge, it had been closed and not in operation.
"I guess the time to regret is past us." He said, stretching his arms wide atop the steps to his new business.
As he expected, nobody took a teen seriously. The lady attacked first, her partners hanging back, securing the area.
Her palm slammed into his face. Cole stared at her, the lady's eyes enlarging before she folded over, his fist embedded deep into her gut.
He followed her convulsing body to the ground, his eyes locked on the other two assailants. His focus phased imperceptibly. He had received a system prompt. A sinister smile stretched across his face.
"My family has made their move. The system had shown him which relationship changed from
Indifference to murderous.
The group was indeed an assassin outfit. Something had changed, and his departure from
The orphaned shouldn't have been taken that badly.
Maybe it was his lawyering up and challenging the trustees over his company.
Cole strolled down the steps, arms folded behind his back as the two assailants drew guns. Their compatriot groaned on the ground, debilitated by the alien tech.
