The Marvel timeline Fury belongs to is a mix of the 1610 ultimate universe and Mcu....
I don't think going full Ultimate would be much appreciated as not many people are aware of the storyline.
I wanted to use the Hot Susanalongside this is also the only continuity apart from MCU where Fury is married.
(Ps. My Fury is not getting divorced, Although its canonical that Fury sleeps around a LOT. Which led to his divorce with Monica....But not my version, not anymore at least.)
Obviously the well known The Maker Reed Richards is also part of this Universe...
The Ultimate Timeline is one of the Coolest continuity in Marvel they just did my man Hank Pym dirty though...
---
Nick Fury stood in front of the massive construction site, watching as workers and machinery moved with near-perfect coordination.
The Triskelion was rising —steel, glass, and concrete coming together to rebuild the fortress of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Even with his doubts about the organization, Fury knew this was necessary.
The world still needed someone watching over it, someone keeping things at bay.
Even if S.H.I.E.L.D. was compromised, the idea of it still had a purpose.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of boots stomping toward him.
Hank Pym.
The man was marching like a storm, his face twisted in barely controlled fury, a stack of papers clenched tightly in his fist.
Fury exhaled and gave a sharp nod to the agents around him, silently dismissing them.
They scattered without question, leaving the two men standing alone in front of the rising Triskelion.
Hank wasted no time.
He thrust the papers forward, his voice tight with restrained anger.
"What the hell is this?"
Fury didn't even glance at the documents.
He already knew what they were.
His face remained unreadable as he simply said, "I believe it was made clear in the letter. Your 'heroic' activities have been dismissed. S.H.I.E.L.D. will no longer sponsor you."
Hank's grip on the papers tightened, knuckles turning white.
"May I ask why?"
Fury didn't look away from Hank's eyes staring down. "No. You don't need to know."
Hank's jaw clenched, his breath sharp as he fought to keep his anger in check.
His hands shook slightly—not with fear, but with rage.
Then, slowly, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out another document.
This time, when he held it up, his voice was lower, but far more dangerous.
"You are separating me from my family?"
Fury finally looked at the paper, recognizing what it was immediately.
Hank's grip tightened around the crumpled letter in his hand.
His face was a mask of barely restrained fury as he glared at Fury.
Fury didn't respond immediately.
He just turned away and started walking. "Follow me."
Hank hesitated for a second before stuffing the letter back into his pocket and marching after him.
Phil, who had been watching the exchange, instinctively moved to join them, but Fury shot him a look.
A silent command.
Stay put.
The noise of the construction site faded as they walked deeper into the unfinished sections of the Triskelion.
Eventually, they stopped at the edge of a massive pit in the earth—a foundation yet to be built upon.
Fury finally spoke, his voice as calm as ever.
"It's not a punishment, Hank. It's a necessity. You're too unstable right now, and your issues with Janet aren't just personal—they're a liability."
Hank let out a bitter laugh. "A liability?" He took a step closer. "You think you can tell me how to handle my marriage? You, of all people?"
Fury didn't react.
Hank's lip curled. "You're a damn hypocrite. You go through women like a—"
The cold press of a gun against his forehead cut him off.
Hank's breath hitched.
Fury's expression didn't change.
His grip on the gun was steady, controlled. "Take the transfer. Do your job. And get yourself together."
He lowered the weapon but didn't step back. "Both of you are important to S.H.I.E.L.D. But you don't get to decide what's best for the Job . I do."
Hank stood there, jaw clenched, fists shaking at his sides. He wanted to fight back, to scream, but he knew Fury wasn't bluffing.
Swallowing his pride, he turned, ready to storm off.
Then Fury spoke again.
"I also know about the funds you've been embezzling , Hank."
Hank froze.
His stomach dropped.
Fury stepped past him, slipping a small slip of paper into his hand.
An address.
"Make sure you're not followed," Fury murmured. "Meet me at 8:00 PM."
Then, without another word, he walked away, leaving Hank standing there.
---
Fury walked beside Phil Coulson, their steps steady but unhurried as they made their way to the bar.
This place wasn't just a bar—it was one of his bars.
A blind spot, a place he had personally set up to be invisible to anyone outside of his trust.
It was run by some of his old army buddies, men who knew how to keep their mouths shut and their doors locked to the wrong kinds of people.
He wore a disguise mask that could warp one's looks, and had left behind a decoy to cover his tracks.
No one needed to know he was here.
When they stepped inside, familiar faces greeted them.
A blue-skinned woman sat near the corner, swirling a drink in her hand—Mystique, her yellow eyes gleaming with curiosity.
Hank Pym was slumped at the bar, looking every bit the drunk man he had become in the past few hours.
His glass was empty, but the bottle near him wasn't.
Richard Parker and Eddie Brock Sr. were at a table together, the duo of scientists—one bright-eyed, the other more hardened—already deep in conversation before Fury even arrived.
And then there was Susan Storm, leaning against the bar, arms crossed.
"You're late," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Do you know how hard it was escorting some of these guys without getting spotted? My back hurts."
Fury smirked. "You'll live."
Susan rolled her eyes, but there was amusement in them.
Mystique, meanwhile, leaned forward. "I have to say, I'm intrigued. I don't get many unofficial invites from you, Fury."
Hank let out a bitter laugh, taking another sip from his bottle.
His voice was slurred, but the anger in it was clear. "Yeah, well, some of us didn't get an invite. We got a goddamn order."
Fury ignored him and stepped toward the center of the room.
His single eye swept over the gathered individuals, reading them, measuring them.
"Well," he started, his tone level, "I assume some of you aren't happy to see me. And some of you are confused as to why I called you here."
He took a breath. "So let me be clear. You all have something I need—whether it's in the form of intelligence, resources, or skills." His voice lowered. "And I need your help to deal with a crucial matter. One that requires immediate but careful planning."
Hank slammed his glass onto the counter, his patience finally snapping. "What is it, Fury? Be fucking clear for once."
Fury turned to him, but his next words weren't for Hank alone.
He looked at Richard Parker.
Then at Eddie Brock Sr.
"I assume you two are well aware of what S.H.I.E.L.D. is?"
The two scientists exchanged glances before nodding.
Fury exhaled slowly. "Good. Then you understand why this matters. Because S.H.I.E.L.D. is compromised."
That got everyone's attention.
Even Mystique, who had been half-smirking through most of this, leaned in with genuine interest.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if already looking for the deception. "Compromised how?"
Fury didn't blink.
He met her gaze head-on and said ome word.
"HYDRA."
The reaction was immediate.
Mystique's smirk vanished. Her entire body went still.
Susan straightened, her easygoing demeanor shifting to something sharper.
Richard Parker and Eddie Brock exchanged tense glances, their scientific minds already running through the implications.
Even Hank—drunk, bitter, and seething—seemed to sober up.
Fury let the silence stretch.
Then, he said, "Now, let's talk about how we burn them to the ground."
---
Leo locked eyes with Ishtar's vessel, holding her gaze for a few seconds longer than necessary.
The woman—no, the goddess behind her—simply watched him in return, unblinking, unreadable.
He said nothing. Just turned and walked away, mentally marking her for a visit in the future.
From what he could tell, she wasn't here to cause trouble. At least, not yet. She seemed content just observing him. But given that he had hijacked parts of her domain, it wasn't hard to figure out where her curiosity came from.
It wasn't every day a god realized someone had taken a piece of their power and was actually doing something with it.
With that thought lingering in his mind, Leo made his way home.
Stepping into Tiamat's house, he expected—well, something—but not what he walked into.
There, in the middle of the room, was Tiamat. The Dragon Goddess of Chaos herself, sitting on the floor, playing with a small boy.
A small boy who had ten horns on his head.
Leo blinked. Huh.
Tiamat turned at the sound of his voice, her face lighting up with pure excitement. She scooped the boy up effortlessly and held him toward Leo like a prize.
"Look at my adorable grandson!" she beamed.
Leo.ExE refused to Response respond..
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Power Stones and Reviews please