Marvel: Upgrading Death 31 - Fishing, Movie, Kael’s Punishment & A Mighty Prayer

Doc - https://docs.google.com/document/d/1XC1tvoUdpeVVQ_0N-1fpbTbp7mNZr1vpRA7nGBaEPMk/edit?usp=sharing

________________

Squelch!

Marshall stomped on the skull of Dr. Nathaniel Essex, who ran the Essex Clinic where Emma Frost was held captive. Sure enough, the doctor was doing more research on whom he called society's deviants. 

So, Marshall gave him a deviant's death. Smashed his face into each locked door behind which a mutant was locked. He bashed the skull and then healed it, and then bashed it again until the door broke. 

There was a lot of bashing as there were five mutants in the facility. By the end, the man's face was unrecognizable, and Marshall decided to end it with a nice stomp. 

"Boy, we came out to play catch and wound up doing damned labor," Marshall complained, standing in front of the tall building, now evacuated due to his activities. Around him were five mutants he had freed. “Now what? They’re staring as I owe them a kiss and a hug.”

"Grawr?"

"Ah! Damn right, let's yeet their sorry mutant asses straight into Dinosia," Marshall declared and looked at Emma. He had to give it to the tall, blonde bombshell with really fine tits. She was gorgeous. "You, blondie, got a crib somewhere? Or I'm dropping y'all's ass at Dinosia."

"We can go to Dinosia?!" shouted a random NPC that Marshall didn't even look at, too busy staring at the fine pair of lungs near him. 

"Damn right! Not sure if you dipshits are proper nerds yet, gimme a sec." Marshall quickly probed into everyone's mind. "Alright, one's a retard! You, shit-brown-hair fuckwit, still munching boogers and huffing your own nutsack funk! The fuck is wrong with you? And you, blondie, you're a nerd."

"H-How did you enter my mind?!" Emma exclaimed. 

Marshall didn't even reply to that. "Anyone who wanna be a Dinosian, get on the damn raft."

Woosh!

In the middle of the road, a massive raft arrived. The thing was older than all flora and fauna on the planet. And it was big enough for Marty's giant ass to relax on. 

Simply put, all of the five mutants jumped on. They were thrown into that facility by their families in the first place. 

Postponing the game of catch, Marshall flew his Dinosia express that day. 

####

Emma remembered everything perfectly. A year had passed since the events of Essex Clinic. 

In Dinosia, she found respect, equality, and the help she didn't know she needed. After her traumatic experiences, she received therapy, a profession that was common in Dinosia, as a lot of highly intelligent people needed it to sort their minds and avoid destructive tendencies. 

The one to help her was a woman named Raven. She couldn't read Raven's mind; a spell had been cast on her by the powerful witches Selene and Morgan le Fay, as well as First Man's wife, Hela. 

At the beginning, she tried to fight. She tried to get past those spells. She wanted to read the mind of this shapeshifting mutant. She wanted to know what her life was, how traumatic it was. But to her surprise, she didn't need to. 

Raven told her everything. About her life on the run, and the fateful meeting with the First Man during the Wright Brothers' first flight. It was the most absurd and somehow exciting and romantic experience. She also found out that Raven was First Man's paramour. 

That… made Emma somewhat jealous. 

What does it take to gain the favor and attraction of a man like the First Man? The god of all humanity and mutants combined. The one who was there to witness the rise and fall of eras, species, empires, and nations. 

Eventually, Emma found herself rambling through all of her own life's experiences. The good, the bad, and the ugly. All of them. Before long, she was crying, bawling her eyes out. She knew she must look disgusting that way. 

After that day, she found a friend in Raven and started to get used to her new life in Dinosia. At Dinosia, she studied business administration, hoping to eventually further prosper Dinosia so more and more mutants can live there as a safe haven. 

And her teacher was none other than the adopted son of the First Man, Azul S. Grant, better known as Apocalypse in some parts of the world. He was a man of unimaginable power and also wisdom. He was the man Dinosia called whenever it had a problem. And when even Azul had a problem, that was when the First Man was called. 

In a way, she found herself learning from the second-in-command of Dinosia. And the best part was that Azul had powers similar to hers, but far, far stronger. Azul also taught her all about mastering her powers of telepathy and all its variations. Moreover, she also learned about her possible second mutation, which would make her stronger. 

Now, other than learning business, she was focused on awakening her second mutation. 

But that day, she received the invitation to the most unusual thing. It was a fishing contest held in Dinosia, in one of the ancient, manmade lakes. It was made to settle the score between the First Man and his son, Helvar. 

Since it was a competition, many people were invited. There was ex-President Rogers, whom she respected for bringing the Mutant Normalization Act. There was her teacher, Azul. There was also a silver woman with a boy by her side. Then there was Lady Hela. 

The huge Marty was also there, but for some reason, he was seated on the other shore alone with Kael, the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen in her life, blood of the First Man and Lady Hela. Some claimed Kael was the most powerful in the world after First Man. She didn't know what made her dangerous. Kael seemed to be fragile, like a flower. 

"Hah! That's all you can do? Look at my damn fish, boy!" 

She chuckled at the loud voice of the First Man mocking his son. Though her reason to look was something else. First Man had worn only beach shorts that day, and was nude above, a cowboy hat on his head, and a cigar in his mouth while holding the fishing rod. 

For some reason, a Dinosian was playing banjo nearby. It failed her what atmosphere the First Man wanted to create. 

"Dad, you're cheating! Look at that damn fish, it's staring at you. It knowingly got caught in your fucking hook to make you happy. You're the god of this shitty planet."

"..."

Marshall pulled the fish closer to his face and looked at it. 

For the first time in her life, Emma saw emotions on a fish's face. 

Splash!

A moment later, the First Man healed and threw the fish back into the lake, shouting down as if ordering all the fish to play it natural. She didn't know why they were competing, and at that point, she believed they didn't either. 

"Caught one!"

And right then, Captain America won. 

"Fuck this!" Helvar roared. 

"I said be neutral!" The First Man roared at the fish. 

Laughing on that warm, sunny day, she looked towards the other shore of the lake. Big Marty had his own fishing rod tied to his T-Rex arms. Kael was right beside him. 

What are they talking about?

####

Kael was older now, already an adult, at the peak of her beauty, and she was likely to stay that way for thousands of years to come. She was tall and beautiful; she knew that much. But also powerful. 

Yet, she knew what she was. A half Asgardian and half human of questionable origins and creation. 

"Uncle Marty," Kael voiced, her words smooth as honey; they were always. "What do you think Dad even is?"

Big Marty looked down at her with his massive T-Rex head. It was strange how expressive Marty's dinosaur face was. No brows, but still expressive somehow. 

"Graa-wf."

"I know." Kael hummed, understanding the creature she was closest to. "Nobody has the answer. I asked Grandpa Odin as well, and he said even he doesn't know. And Dad doesn't know either; he doesn't remember anything. Could Dad be an alien?"

"Rawr."

"Hehe, true. He doesn't seem to be from this whole universe. He's talking to fish, seriously? Can he even do that?"

Uncle Marty shrugged, and right then, the fishing line strained. 

"Pull, Uncle Marty!"

####

Back on the other shore, Marshall had already gotten bored with fishing. Since Rogers was so good at it, he let the man catch them. Marshall got busy grilling them in the meantime, throwing in whatever sauce he could get his hands on. 

"Dad, me first!"

“Eat a shit-ton, Zen.”

Marshall gave the fish to the young boy. It was his son from Shalla-Bal. He was honestly surprised by how human the boy turned out. Only his hair was shiny silver; the rest was just a mini Marshall. 

It was annoying to Marshall, however, that he couldn’t have more kids with Hela anymore. They did the deed regularly, for hours, but still nothing. Meanwhile, Shalla-Bal was already swollen with another kid. 

Keeping that in mind, he decided to strengthen his pullout game. 

"Azul, I'm curious." Marshall looked at his adopted son. "How goddamn loaded is Dinosia anyway? I figured those nerds would've started eating their own shoes by now."

"We are the richest nation in the world, Father. That is, without counting the treasures you have stored under the temple for thousands of years. If we include that, Dinosia is worth more than the rest of the world combined in its entire history from the inception of humanity."

Marshall frowned. "How much is that?"

"The second richest nation is the United States, and they are worth less than half of what we are, by GDP numbers."

"I suppose…" Shalla-Bal spoke suddenly. "If it's wealth you are pondering, First Man. Then the Dino Corp alone is worth more than this entire planet and its resources combined."

"..."

"It is?! How did that happen?" Marshall asked. 

"Dino Corp is the universe's largest peacekeeping mercenary force," Shalla-Bal said. "Gamora has run it well. You should reward her."

"Damn right I should! But later, I’m bored with space.” Marshall said and looked at his watch, which Howard had gifted him, some Patek something. “Speaking of rewards, I gotta go poke my twice-blessed, Eternal buddy Ajak first.”

####

Why twice-blessed? Well, she had two very big reasons on her chest. 

Marshall arrived at Ajak's home. He'd been servicing the women occasionally there. He'd mostly meet Ajak, though, his favorite. Thena was too serious all the time, and Sersi was just weirdly submissive. Ajak was everything, thick and playful. 

Woosh!

He soon entered Ajak's home. She lived as a suburban milf in some nice neighborhood in America. As soon as he walked inside the house, he evaporated all his clothes and pounced on the thick woman. 

Creak!

The bedsprings whined, and his hands tore away the sundress she was wearing. 

"Hah! Always in a hurry."

Ajak played along. And Marshall, once Ajak was fully nude under him, gathered her large breasts from the sides, smushed them together, and shoved his face between them. 

"Ah! This is fucking heaven!" Marshall moaned, cock throbbing hard. It was in the middle of the day, and the entire neighborhood was about to get their first session of the godly song of mating for the next few hours. 

Marshall motorboated those glorious tits without a care. Face buried, nose smashed flat against warm, silky cleavage. He dragged long, greedy licks up the undersides. Then he suckled on a nipple, swirling his tongue over one stiff dusky bud in his mouth before rubbing it around his shameless face once again. He could feel Ajak’s fingers run through his hair, encouraging the madness. 

Her thick thighs had already parted wide, plush pillows framing her glistening pussy, and he took shameless advantage, grinding the fat head of his cock right against her soaked entrance. Sliding, teasing, painting her puffy lips with the slick precum that drooled from his tip.

"You… are… so… insatiable." Ajak moaned, amused even as her hips twitched upward, chasing more friction. She could feel his fingers pinching her nipples, her body shivering in reaction. "But I know why you’re truly here."

"For these!" Marshall declared, yanking his face free with a dramatic gasp, cheeks shiny with spit. He looked downright feral, grinning. 

Next second, he dove back down, latching onto her right breast with greed. He took in the whole stiff nipple and a mouthful of soft flesh, sucking hard. Her tit was so doughy, so warm, it molded around his lips and tongue comfortably. He growled into her skin, nose flaring as he dragged in deep lungfuls of her scent. His tongue lathered the stiff peak in quick, filthy circles, then flicked it side to side.

"Ah!" Ajak’s back arched off the mattress, offering more. 

Marshall switched. He attacked the left breast now, biting down playfully, and leaving little red marks that bloomed under his mouth. He suckled the nipple between his lips, tugged hungrily over and over, until finally releasing with a feral snap of her skin.

Pop!

He crawled up her body in one fluid motion, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of her smooth hips. His big hands framed her pretty face, then he crashed their lips together in a raw, sloppy, gobbling kiss. 

Ajak met him eagerly, rolling her tongue out to meet his, slurping wet and shameless, sucking on his flesh like she was starving. Spit rolled down their chins within seconds. It was gloriously, unapologetically, filthy. Nothing celestial about it, just two immortals who’d been rutting like animals since before humans invented beds to break.

She was strong enough to handle him in every possible way. He'd unloaded buckets of his cream in her over the past thousands of years, and he still had more. 

“Fuuuck, Ajak, this body’s still a goddamn masterpiece,” Marshall howled against her mouth when they finally broke for air. 

His hands roamed everywhere, squeezing handfuls of her soft belly, fingers digging into the pillowy flesh of her hips, cupping the plush undersides of her tits again just because he could. She was squishy, fluff-filled, simply perfect. 

“Up. Now. I’m gonna rail you so loud the whole state will hear every filthy squeal.”

"What?" Her eyes widened.

Marshall rolled off her in a flash, grabbed her wrist, and yanked. They stumbled together toward the big window at the front of the first-floor bedroom. Thick cream-colored curtains still blocked the view of the quiet suburban street outside.

Shhh!

Marshall yanked the window sash up with a sharp creak. Fresh air rushed in, carrying the faint scent of cut grass and a shiver to her skin.

He spun her around, pressed her forward until her palms slapped flat against the window sill. Her upper body leaned out into the open air, framed by the parted curtains, only her flushed face and the tops of her shoulders visible from the street. 

Gravity did the rest; those heavy, perfect tits swung forward, nipples stiff, swaying with every breath. They hung just inside the window line, threatening to spill fully into view if she arched any harder. Her back dipped into a curve, ass presented high and round, thighs trembling slightly as she braced herself. 

“And now!” Marshall growled, licking his lips as he drank in the sight. 

Her ass was too wonderful, cheeks already spreading from the way she’d instinctively widened her stance. He clawed both hands into the soft flesh, kneading roughly, then yanked them apart until her glistening cunt and the tight, winking star he’d claimed countless times came into view. That little back door fluttered under his stare, but today his cock throbbed for the scorching heat waiting just below.

"F-First Man! I think… this isn't a good idea… what will they think?"

"First Man banged the hottest milf body in the neighborhood. That's what they'll think. Bet the young lads in their rooms will hear your moan and stroke one out themselves. So go all out, scream, Ajak!"

Marshalls was now much more sane. But not that sane, clearly. 

"Gimme that leg."

He hooked one big hand under her right thigh and pulled it to his right hip, straight, so she balanced precariously on her left foot alone. Her body stretched taut like a bow, tits thrust forward, ass lifted and opened perfectly for him. His own girthy arrow was ready to hit that warm, clenching bullseye inside her.

Marshall nudged her weeping pussy, sliding along her puffy lips, coating himself in her juice before pressing forward. He eased in, parting those gorgeous, wet pussy lips. 

“Mmmmh! You… have you grown bigger?” Ajak moaned as her walls fluttered and stretched around the blunt head. She clenched instinctively, trying to suck him deeper even as she pretended to protest.

"Who knows… ah! Warm and tight, just what I love," he rumbled, savoring the welcoming massage her pussy gave him.

Plap!

A sudden savage thrust buried him to the hilt. 

Ajak’s whole body jolted forward; her shoulders pushed further through the curtains, her breasts swaying wildly, nipples scraping the wooden sill with every heaving breath. A fresh gush of her nectar coated his balls as he bottomed out, her pussy spasming with need.

"Aaaaah! Someone's coming!" she gasped, half-laugh, half-panic.

"What? Go harder?" Marshall smiled lewdly.

He didn’t wait for an answer. He started fucking her like a machine, one hand locked around her raised thigh, keeping her spread and helpless, the other kneading into the meat of her succulent ass. Every piston-hard thrust drove her forward, swells slapping together, nipples dragging across the sill in teasing friction. 

Ajak ducked her head lower, trying to hide, but only managed to shove her face between the curtains so her flushed cheeks and parted lips were the only things visible from outside.

Plap! Plap! Plap!

Her pussy sucked at him with every pull, cream dripping down her inner thighs. The curtains fluttered with each impact, teasing glimpses of swaying flesh to anyone who might glance up from the sidewalk. Ajak blushed harder, more desperate, biting her lips to stop her moans.

"Ms. Ajak?"

A man’s voice, cheerful, neighborly, cut through the open window

"H-Hello…" Ajak managed, head nodding outside. "Just… cleaning the window… Mr. Bell."

Plap! Plap!

Marshall drilled in harder, grinning like a lunatic. The wet slap of his hips against her ass rang out harder in the room, just a few octaves from ringing loudly into the street. He wasn’t slowing for even a second. "Who's that?"

"Neighbor… he… wants me… and… walks past the house countless times a day," Ajak panted, half-suppressing moans, half-gritting her teeth as another brutal thrust made her spine bow.

“He wants my Ajak?!"

Pa!

His free hand smacked her asscheek; the sharp sting bloomed into heat that made her pussy salivate around him even more. He rolled his hips in filthy circles on the next thrust, splaying her petals thin around his veiny girth. His cock came back glistening, coated in her creamy froth, strings of her slick stretching and snapping between them with every withdrawal.

“He and… every other married man on this street,” Ajak whined, pitch climbing and falling like a rollercoaster. She couldn’t help it; he was too thick, too deep, stretching her so wide every ridge dragged across sensitive nerve ends.

"Then let them hear you! That you have a man!" Marshall dared, thrusting even harder. 

He grabbed her other fluffy leg and pinned both of her legs on each side of his hips. He went full on ‘Superman suspension’. Her entire weight balanced on his thrusting cock and the grip of her hands on the windowsill. No leverage, no escape. Just him pounding up into her like he was trying to fuck her soul out through her mouth.

Plap! Plap! 

Each thrust shoved her further forward, tits bouncing, the swollen undersides finally cleared the sill and dangled freely outside. Her heavy globes swayed in open air, nipples stiff, every jiggle a shameless display. Someone had to be seeing them if there lived that many horny bastards.

Marshall didn’t give a fuck who saw, he reveled in it. She was his. His hands roamed her body, squeezing fistfuls of her doughy thighs so he could watch his cock disappear into her greedy, sucking cunt over and over. Her walls rippled and clenched around him like they were trying to drink him dry. Heat poured out of her, soaking his balls, dripping in thick strands to the hardwood floor. 

"Mmmm!" Ajak bit her lip, trying to stay quiet. 

Marshall wasn’t having it. He pounded harder, mercilessly, until her muscles locked up. He could feel her thighs quivering, pussy clamping down for dear life.

“Ahhhh! Ahhhh!! YES!!!”

The scream tore out of her, echoing down the quiet street like a thunderclap. Dogs erupted into frantic barking three houses away. Somewhere, a car alarm blared.

Ajak’s eyes rolled back, jaw slack, plump lips spilling sinful, broken moans as her climax ripped through her. Clear nectar gushed out around his cock in hot, messy spurts, splattering his thighs, the sill, the curtains, everything.

Pa!

Marshal lowered one leg just enough to crack another vicious smack across her jiggling ass. The flesh rippling like waves crashing into waves, his cock kept slamming up into her sweltering heat.

"Any… news on the Celestials?" he asked, still buried balls-deep, still rutting through her aftershocks.

"N-oh!"

"Why not?"

Pa!

He smacked harder. Her ass bounced beautifully.

"He’s… gone into hiding."

"Fuck!"

Marshall teetered over the edge and finally rammed home, deep and brutal. He let both her feet drop back to the floor and shoved her upper body forward over the sill, belly pressed to the frame, magnificent tits fully dangling outside, swaying with every heaving breath. He lodged himself to the root and exploded.

He pumped load after load into her, flooding her pussy until it was full. Her pink walls were now as white as the walls of her suburban home, deliciously milfy. Sticky trails started dripping from her pussy onto the floorboards in fat drips. Her walls fluttered weakly, trying to keep him inside, milking every last drop like she was addicted to being stuffed.

"Gah… Let's go to bed. You on top." Marshall hauled her back inside with a rough yank, cock still twitching. "You still haven't moaned enough."

Sure, Marshall had come to ask about the Celestials. But how could he refuse a soft, gorgeous beauty like Ajak? 

That whole day and until midnight, he fucked her in every imaginable way. By the end, despite Ajak's Eternal fortitude, she passed out. 

So, Marshall went out looking for Thena because he still had a lot of giving to do. 

####

Steven Spielberg was a famous filmmaker in the 1980s. After releasing Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, he was searching for something meaningful. Something grand that would plant his legacy for decades to come. 

Something that would set him apart. 

So, to find inspiration, he started his world tour. So many countries, continents, and seas. So many styles of art, dances, languages, and architecture. Yet, everywhere he found one thing in common. The First Man was worshipped, and his temples and shrines were everywhere. Even in the Middle East, where idols weren't seen with much love, First Man's statues from the days of old sultans and empires remained intact, while more grander ones continued to be erected. 

That threw him into the rabbit hole of trying to trace the history of the First Man. The more he dug, the more he gasped. Historical, medieval, ancient, prehistoric, and beyond. Everyone knew First Man was ancient, but he wasn't personally aware of how deeply rooted the First Man was. 

In China, he was allowed to see ancient scrolls, thousands of years old, detailing the First Man's visits. 

Finally, when he returned home a year later, he sat down and watched the First Man's movie. And he had to give it to the god of humanity… 

"He sucks!"

Yes, First Man sucked at acting, or rather, his lack of it. The movie was raw, and the First Man was similar. Yet, the movie had earned over a billion because the god himself was in it. But he didn't want that. He wasn't planning an alien invasion action movie. 

His plan was simpler and still profound. After all, how could he explain millions of years of world history in a two-hour movie? 

After a lot of hard work, and going to the MGM studios, owned by Dinosia, and requesting more, he was finally given the chance to meet the god himself. The nerds of MGM were fantastic. 

He took the Dinosian plane and arrived at the sacred country, years ahead of the rest of the world. Everything was prepared beforehand; there were people to drive him over to the First Man's temple. 

It was so grand. He reminded himself to ask about why Dinosia was created. 

Moments later, he was guided by President Steven G. Rogers of all people. He asked why the man was there, and the answer was ‘a vacation.’ He didn't ask beyond that and soon entered the First Man's office. He was excited to see what the god's office looked like and…

He lost all interest. 

It was a large empty room with open windows. It was absolutely empty, nothing on the walls, no curtains. The only furniture in the room was a flimsy metal table that you could fold; it was square. Then there were foldable lawn chairs set. One for him, and the other one on which the First Man sat. 

"First Man?"

Steven at first thought this was a joke. 

"Take a seat, kid." 

But when the First Man waved his hand and moved the empty chair for him, he believed it all. Still, he looked around at how underwhelming this first impression was. 

"So, the nerds at MGM told me you wanna slap my face on the big screen? It's about damn time someone noticed I'm a walking acting miracle."

"..."

If only you weren't so shit at it, your mighty holiness. 

“Eat my entire ass, kid! You think I suck at acting? Rogers! Tell this little shit, does my acting suck?”

Steven recoiled, realising his thoughts were easily read. He began sweating profusely, heart thumping, afraid of heavenly punishment. 

"Yes, sir. I won’t sugarcoat it. You weren’t very good in that film."

"..."

No! He'll refuse! What have I done?

Steven Spielberg frowned. "It wasn't all that bad, your holiness."

"Shut it, you burned the whole fucking bridge down, and now you're handing me tissues? Cough up the real reason you're here if not for my spectacular, ball-bustingly brilliant acting chops."

"Your Holiness, I am here for you. The film will be about you. It will tell the story of the First Man, and I am thinking of calling it ‘The World's Man.’ It will follow your journey. I just... I want to understand it properly. From before humanity, if you can. The earliest memory you have."

"So you wanna put out a movie about me... but without my magnificent face in it? Who the fuck's gonna play me, some talentless knob with my face glued o—"

"Harrison Ford, your holiness!" Steven Spielberg declared. "H-He'll play your role. He's tall, he's very handsom—"

"Ford? Ain't that the fucking car? You're putting a car to play me?"

"..."

"No, no! That's the name of the actor, the hottest one in the market. Believe me, respected First Man. He’ll act superbly. All we need is your guidance and… we hope to borrow Lord Marty to act as… himself."

Crash!

All of a sudden, the First Man flipped the metal table. 

"Marty? That fatass? You’re letting him act, but benching me? Rogers, tell me that beautiful bastard didn’t beat my performance."

"He… did, Sir."

Silence fell in the empty room. Moments later, the First Man heaved a deep breath and took the seat again. 

"Fuck, I sound like a whiny little cunt right now. Fine, I'll choke down my pride like one of your casting-couch girls for thirty seconds of screen time. Spit it, what do you wanna know?"

Steven Spielberg gulped and went for it. He already knew about First Man's colorful way of speaking, and he didn't blame him for it. Being the god of humans must take a toll on the mind. 

"How were you born, your holiness?"

"No idea. Probably just snapped into existence."

"..."

This won't be easy. 

But Steven had already made up his mind. Even Harrison was on board. All he had to do was learn all he could from the First Man.

####

White House, 

"What do we do?" President Reagan asked. He was old, but not without a brain. He stared at the documents on his table, and then at the man who brought them, former president Kennedy, Secret Director of Shield.

"You're the President. You decide."

"I'm too old for this. I won't survive the First Man's wrath," Reagan muttered and sank into his executive chair. "W-We… how did we miss this?"

"It never existed. Seems Hydra has infiltrated pretty deep in the government," Kennedy replied, more relaxed than the current President. "First Man doesn't know yet. But he will eventually. Dinosia's intelligence network is unbeatable."

That made Reagan gulp, forcing him to drink some water. 

The file on his table was named 'MK ULTRA'. The gist of the whole thing was that it was a secret military project. It was sanctioned by the president before Rogers. That president didn't belong to Chester Phillips' camp. 

The issue was that the project goal was to study First Man's DNA and derive a super soldier serum from it. The DNA was gained by sweeping through the mammoth reserve, where First Man frequented. First Man's hair was found there. In fact, it was found decades ago, before the 20th century. 

"Kennedy. You're younger than me, you should go."

"Fuck no!" Kennedy barked. "I love having my head on my shoulders. You should be the one to go. If the President reports it himself, there will be less anger directed at you or the White House. Make it clear this was Hydra’s doing.”

"..."

"I'll die of a heart attack," Reagan replied.

Kennedy shrugged. "Good thing you picked a decent VP."

"Jack, this is elder abuse."

"Your burden to bear, Mr. President." Kennedy mockingly saluted and rushed away. "Good luck."

All alone, Ronald Reagan sighed, elbows on the table, head in his palms. 

I should prepare my final will. 

####

Meanwhile, in Pripyat, Ukrainian SSR, Soviet Union,

"It's not three roentgen, it's fifteen thousand."

The Chernobyl disaster had occurred, the reactor had exploded, and the radiation was spreading faster than wildfire, the wind carrying it across Europe. The USSR's response was even worse. 

Because of the humiliation the USSR faced when the First Man killed the entire ruling government just for a dog, the new government was focused on hiding the matter as quickly as they could. They didn't want the words to reach the First Man. 

They were right. Those words didn't reach the First Man. Nor Helvar. Instead, their vile secret reached someone more dangerous, Kael, the daughter of the First Man and Goddess Hela.

Woof!

With a bark in the sky, a gorgeous golden retriever came down from the sky in the middle of the busy night. Beside the dog was a woman, with long golden-blonde hair, a face like a goddess, and clothes akin to a battlesuit, inspired by Hela's battle armor, but only white in color with golden streaks all over. And a long, fluttering cape of white and gold. 

Kael had decided to become a superhero for that week. And one of her abilities allowed her to sense suffering on a global scale. So when she sensed Pripyat, she arrived. 

"What's going on here?" Kael asked the glass-wearing Soviet man in the middle of a military camp. "Why are so many hearts crying?"

"..."

After seeing nobody was answering, Kael smiled softly and pointed her finger at the same man. "I'll read it then."

In a snap, the man, she now knew was called Valery Legasov, fell to his knees, clutching his head. She understood everything, however.  

"Hiding something this dangerous isn't right. Thank goodness my Dad isn't here… he would've lost his temper and leveled the city trying to fix it. You there, the white-haired man, tell your people to pull back. I’ll take care of it."

Boris Shcherbina gulped. He was lucky enough to survive the previous purge. He'd studied the First Man and his family well. He knew who she was. "Right away."

Quickly, Boris ordered all the military officials to pull back. Within an hour, the entire area was emptied. Then he reported it to the woman like a good soldier. 

"Good," Kael muttered, and looked at Cosmo. "Cosmo, keep an eye on them. If they run, break their legs."

"I'll happily do that, Kael."

Cosmo clearly didn't like the Soviets. 

But the first issue was dealing with the disaster, which included ensuring the radiation was removed from the area and people's bodies. Kael began using one of her countless powers. 

She placed one palm on her eyes and extended the other hand towards the sky. She tried to feel the little strings of reality and started bending them to her will. To the naked eye outside, the view was the most shocking. 

It was as if time was going in reverse, but in a limited scope. All the smoke coming out of the reactor building was returning inside the reactor. Even the reactor building started to mend itself, its exploded roof started to repair itself. The explosion appeared again, but in reverse. It was all happening so fast.

Within seconds, the entire building returned to how it was before the explosion. 

"I won't repair it and give it back. You don't deserve it," Kael declared and finally removed her hand from her eyes and pointed it at the building in the distance. "You will repeat the same mistakes. It will explode again."

Woosh!

A soothing, golden beam of light escaped Kael's hands and shrouded the entire reactor building. As soon as that happened, it just vanished. 

Not just the light, but the entire reactor building. The building and the ground under it, for at least a hundred meters. Only a massive, wide, perfectly round crater was left behind.   

Finally, Kael clapped her hands and looked back at the men. One of them, Boris, was a government official. 

"Now for the punishment. I have seen what the future holds, and thirty thousand lives are lost. I cannot ignore that. For every life taken, I will end one of your party’s leaders, beginning at the top. I will choose only those who are truly evil. I promise you that.”

True. This was worse than the First Man. Back then, only a few hundred had died. Now, if thirty thousand leaders died, then the USSR would be completely finished.

That was the punishment of Kael S. Grant.

####

St. Charles, Missouri,

Eight-year-old Peter Quill was upset. Seeing his mother die broke him. 

He cried and ran. He ran out of the hospital until he was in the middle of a large field. She was dead, gone forever. He wailed nonstop, slightly in pain from the wounds he got from a fight with other kids earlier that day. 

Bam!

He punched the ground. 

"Why? Why Mom too?"

Bam!

"Mom!"

Bam!

He kept punching until his knuckles bled. 

Bam!

He kept punching until no strength was left, and he collapsed on the ground. He rolled to his back and looked at the stars in the sky. They were blurry; tears made them that way. Whimpering, he finally closed his eyes and decided to pray one last time. 

They say that the First Man hears all. They say that the First Man guides all people. 

"God… First Man… God, please! I love Mom. I… want her back. Please don't take her. I’ll do anything to give my Mom back..."

As he prayed, something stirred in him. Something ancient. 

"God, please! My Mom—"

Woosh!

There was a sudden movement nearby and noise. Peter opened his eyes and jolted up to sit. He looked in front, and there stood the god in flesh, in the attire he'd seen in photos and playing cards. 

"Boy, how'd you teleport me? I don't remember hauling my ass here."

Peter didn't focus at all on what the god said, and got up to his feet, wiping the tears with his sleeves. "God, please give me my Mom back."

"What's that?" 

The god knelt down. Peter saw the First Man's face from up close, and the god was sniffing him.

"Huh? I smell Celestial stink all over you, kid! Who the hell are you?!"

"My Mom, bring her back."

But the First Man kept sniffing and then took a single hair from his head. 

"Celestial! Definitely one sorry sack-of-shit weak-ass Celestial, but… I can find the rest with this, can't I? A Celestial scanner, damn fucking right."

Peter couldn't take it anymore and shouted, an ancient power surging through him. 

"SAVE MY MOM!"

He deflated the next instant, scared that he had angered the god. 

"I… please…"

"Sure, kid. Is she hot?"

"..."