Marvel: Familia System

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Nero sat in the dimly lit room, the mask of the Good Omen covering his face, concealing his identity as he faced Reed Richards—Mr. Fantastic, the so-called "smartest man on Earth." The setting was minimal, nothing but two chairs and a table between them. Reed's sharp eyes studied him, his posture calm but clearly alert, his mind already working through the reasons for this meeting. It was Reed who had been searching for him, and now here they were, face to face.

Reed leaned back slightly, his fingers tapping lightly on the table in front of him. "I didn't expect you to respond to my message so quickly," Reed began, his voice steady but laced with curiosity. "You're hard to track down."

Nero didn't respond immediately, letting the silence settle between them before speaking. "I like to keep a low profile," he said evenly, his voice altered by the mask to hide any trace of his real identity. "Especially from people like you."

A flicker of amusement passed across Reed's face, though his tone remained serious. "People like me? You mean those who ask too many questions?"

"People who don't know when to stop," Nero clarified, his tone cold but not hostile. He didn't need to engage in Reed's mind games—he was here to find out exactly what Reed wanted from him, and why.

Reed's fingers stopped tapping, his gaze locking onto Nero's masked face. "You've made quite the impact. Your organization has been involved in dismantling several operations that I've been monitoring—some of which were incredibly dangerous. And yet, here you are, still a ghost."

Nero tilted his head slightly, the mask hiding the smirk that tugged at his lips. "You didn't ask for this meeting to discuss my resume, Reed. What do you really want?"

Reed leaned forward now, resting his elbows on the table. "I want to know what you're after. You operate in the shadows, taking down major threats like Obadiah and Magneto, and yet you avoid any direct confrontation with the bigger players. You're not a hero. But you're not a villain either. So, what are you?"

Nero's gaze didn't waver, though behind the mask, his thoughts moved quickly. Reed was probing, looking for a crack in the armor, a clue to his identity or his motives. Nero wasn't about to give him one. "You don't need to know what I am," Nero replied coolly. "Just know that I have my reasons for what I do."

Reed's eyes narrowed, clearly dissatisfied with Nero's evasive answer. His sharp intellect was at work, searching for a gap in the masked figure's words. "Reasons? What reasons could you possibly have to save Tony Stark?" Reed's tone was measured, probing but not confrontational.

Nero chuckled, the sound distorted by his mask. "Same as you, Richards. Tony Stark is resourceful. He may yet become an asset."

Reed leaned back slightly, processing Nero's response. "An asset? Stark's a liability more often than not. His ego alone makes him unpredictable."

"True," Nero replied, his voice calm, devoid of emotion. "But even liabilities have their uses. The question is how well you control them." He leaned forward, the mask concealing the amusement in his eyes. "You understand that better than anyone."

Reed's fingers resumed their light tapping on the table, a telltale sign that his mind was racing. "You're playing a dangerous game. You operate in the shadows, pulling strings, but you've shown no interest in taking power for yourself. What's your endgame?"

Nero tilted his head, considering Reed's words. He had expected this line of questioning, but Reed was digging deeper than most would dare. "You're assuming I have one."

"Everyone has an endgame," Reed countered, his tone sharper now. "Whether it's control, power, or something else. Even the most well-hidden agendas reveal themselves eventually."

Nero chuckled, his mask distorting the sound into something eerie. "So, you track down powerful people to gauge their intentions, then judge them as threats if they have ambitions? Quite a judicial system you've built for yourself, Reed. Judge, jury, and executioner. I know a troll with a similar mindset. Want me to introduce you?"

Reed didn't flinch at the remark, though his eyes flickered with something close to amusement. "The difference is, I don't execute. I assess risks. And I neutralize them when necessary. You? You're an unknown variable. That makes you dangerous."

Nero leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "You're no stranger to dangerous people. Tony, Doom, your own family... What's different here?"

Reed's fingers tapped lightly on the table again, the rhythm almost calculated. "What's different is that I can't pin you down. You show up when it suits you, take down threats, then disappear. You wear a mask, but it's not just your face you're hiding. It's your motives."

"Smartest man on Earth, and you still can't figure it out?" Nero's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Maybe I'm just a bored philanthropist with a penchant for keeping city clean. Maybe I've got a hero complex. Or maybe—just maybe—I don't owe you an explanation."

Reed leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing behind his stoic expression. "You're too casual," he said, his voice steady but probing. "Aren't you worried this could be a setup?"

Nero chuckled. "You mispronounced confident," he said smoothly, leaning back in his chair with a deliberate ease. "Besides, I could ask you the same thing. What makes you think you're not walking into my trap?"

Reed's fingers tapped lightly on the table, calculating. "Because I don't leave anything to chance. And I certainly don't walk into a room without knowing exactly who's on the other side."

Nero tilted his head, the orange glow of his mask's eyes reflecting Reed's scrutiny back at him. "And yet here you are, facing someone you can't figure out," he said, his tone light, almost teasing.

Reed's eyes narrowed, the intensity in the room shifting as his hand twitched ever so slightly—a barely noticeable movement to most, but Nero wasn't most. Without warning, Reed lunged, his arm stretching impossibly fast, aiming to restrain Nero in a single move. But Nero had already anticipated the attack, his Observation Haki flaring to life, allowing him to see Reed's intent before it even formed in the man's mind.

Nero leaned back with a fluid motion, his body moving just out of reach as Reed's arm shot past him, the air whistling with the force of the strike. His masked eyes glowed faintly, the orange hue reflecting the tension in the room.

"That's a bit rude, don't you think?" Nero said, his tone casual, almost mocking. He shifted his weight slightly, not out of fear, but to show Reed that this game wasn't one-sided.

Reed didn't respond, his face a mask of focus. His arm retracted, whipping back towards Nero with increased speed, the elasticity of his body giving him a wide range of motion. This time, Reed wasn't aiming for a capture—he was testing Nero's reflexes.

But Nero didn't move. He raised his hand, and with a subtle gesture, the air around him shimmered. A thin trail of orange flames—his Undying Will Flames—flared to life, swirling around his figure like a protective barrier. Reed's strike connected with the flames, but instead of passing through, it stopped, the flames hissing against his extended arm.

Reed's eyes flickered with surprise, but only for a second. He quickly withdrew, regrouping as his mind raced to process this new information.

"You think I'd walk into a meeting unprepared?" Nero's voice was cold, calculated. He could see Reed recalculating his approach, trying to decipher what kind of threat Nero posed.

Reed's posture straightened, his arms still slightly elongated, ready for another strike if necessary. "I wasn't expecting a straightforward conversation," he admitted, voice level. "But this is beyond what I anticipated. I thought your strength was agility, given your fight with Obadiah and the way you moved. But it seems I've underestimated you."

Nero's masked face remained unreadable, though there was a faint hum of amusement in his tone. "You're not the first," he said, casually brushing off Reed's observation. "And I doubt you'll be the last."

Reed's mind raced, trying to piece together what little he knew about Nero, the masked figure who'd stayed hidden from the world. "Your flames—they're not like anything I've seen before. They're... not just fire, are they?" His voice wasn't accusatory, more curious than anything else.

Nero chuckled softly, the sound distorted by his mask. "Good guess, but you're still off. Let's just say my flames are more than just a party trick."

Reed's eyes narrowed slightly, frustration flickering in his gaze. "You cloak yourself in mystery, yet you're not trying to hide. It's an odd game you're playing. Why meet with me at all if you didn't want me to figure you out?"

Nero leaned back, arms crossing. "You came looking for me, Reed. I thought it was only polite to show up."

"Polite," Reed echoed, clearly unimpressed with Nero's flippant attitude. "And here I thought you didn't care about such things."

"I don't," Nero shot back, his tone sharpened. "But I do care about certain people overstepping their bounds. You've got your nose in a lot of places it doesn't belong, Reed. So I'm here to tell you—back off."

Reed remained unfazed, though his arms retracted fully now, no longer prepared to strike. "You want me to stop looking into your affairs? What makes you think I'd agree to that?"

Nero leaned back casually, arms resting on the table between them, his mask's orange glow casting faint shadows on Reed's face. "I'm not going to swing empty threats, Richards. But know this—you're wasting your time." His tone was calm, but there was a cold edge beneath the surface. "Don't think I haven't noticed the little toys you've planted around here. Or Sue, trying to get a read on me from the shadows."

He turned his head ever so slightly, glancing at an empty spot near the room's corner. The air shimmered faintly, and though Susan Storm was invisible, Nero could sense her presence as clearly as if she were standing in front of him. With a casual wave of his hand, the faint glow of his Undying Will Flames ignited briefly, casting a flicker of light in the direction where Susan stood.

Reed's eyes flicked toward the spot, but he didn't react, his face remaining impassive. "I see you're more perceptive than most," Reed said, his voice steady, though there was an undeniable tension in the air now. "You're not exactly what I expected."

"I rarely am," Nero's voice came out flat, dismissive. "This meeting wasn't about some grand revelation. It was to give you the chance to throw your best theories at me and watch you fail. Now that we've established that, let me make something clear—stop snooping. Not that you'd get anywhere, but it's getting irritating. Like a fly buzzing around your head while you're trying to work. Harmless, but annoying."

Reed's fingers stilled against the table, his eyes sharp, calculating. "Annoying or not, I don't ignore unknowns. You're operating in a way that will draw attention, if it hasn't already. If I'm digging into you, others will too. How long before someone less patient decides to take a more direct approach?"

Nero leaned forward, his elbows resting casually on the table. "Let them come," he said, his tone almost bored. "I'm not concerned. And neither should you be. We both know what happens when people think they can corner me."

Reed's gaze flickered, catching the underlying warning in Nero's words. "You may not be concerned, but you're not exactly making friends. Even a masked operator like yourself has to answer to someone eventually."

Nero chuckled, the distorted sound of his laughter filling the room. "You're assuming I care about making friends. I'm not Tony Stark. I don't need to play nice or put on a show for the masses. You came to me, Richards. If I were you, I'd ask myself why."

Reed didn't miss a beat. "I already know why. You're a variable, and I don't like variables. Too many threats exist for me to let an unknown operator run unchecked. Your methods might not make you a villain, but they don't make you a hero either."

"Hero, villain," Nero shrugged, the glowing eyes of his mask fixated on Reed. "Those are labels for people who care about what side of the coin they land on. I'm just doing what needs to be done, and I'm not looking for approval. Especially not from someone who's stretching himself thin trying to be everyone's moral compass."

As Nero turned and exited the room, the door shut quietly behind him, leaving Reed and Susan alone in the dim light. The shift in the atmosphere was immediate. Reed's fingers, which had been tapping rhythmically throughout the meeting, stilled as he leaned back in his chair. His posture, which had been alert and slightly rigid during his exchange with Nero, now relaxed completely, revealing a man far more in control than he had appeared just moments earlier.

Susan's form shimmered back into visibility from where she had stood, concealed in the corner. She walked over to Reed, her expression curious but calm. "Well, how was it?" she asked, tilting her head slightly, though she already knew the meeting hadn't been straightforward.

Reed exhaled slowly, folding his arms as he stared at the closed door. "He's extremely smart," he replied, his voice contemplative, but not frustrated. "Smart, careful, and deliberate. Everything he said, every move he made—it was calculated."

Susan hummed in acknowledgment, leaning against the table beside him. "Sounds like you were both feeling each other out. Did you get anything useful?"

Reed shook his head slowly, though there was no sign of disappointment on his face. "Not exactly, but that was expected. He countered every tactic I tried. Soft, hard, push, pull... even when I changed my approach, he adapted. It wasn't a battle of wits—it was more like a chess game where both players know the moves, but neither is willing to tip their hand."

Susan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "So he's not just some guy playing at being a puppet master."

Reed's eyes flickered with a glint of respect. "No, he's far more than that. His methods aren't about ego or control. He's not interested in fame or power in the traditional sense. He operates with a kind of detached precision—like someone who's aware of the bigger picture but has no desire to stand in the spotlight."

Susan crossed her arms, her brow furrowing slightly as she thought about it. "He's playing a long game, then. But for what? If he's not after power, what's his end goal?"

"That's the thing," Reed said, his voice growing quieter as his thoughts aligned. "He doesn't have the same motivations as others we've dealt with. Power, influence, wealth—those things don't drive him. He's operating outside the usual lines."

Susan stood beside Reed, her eyes still on the door Nero had just exited through. After a long silence, she finally asked, "Is he dangerous?"

Reed, still deep in thought, shook his head slowly. "I doubt it. At least, not in the way we usually think." He paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "I'm not certain, but I feel like his hand is involved in some of the operations we've been tracking. Heroic ones."

Susan's brow furrowed, clearly surprised by the statement. "Is that your intuition or analysis?" Her tone was a mix of skepticism and curiosity.

Reed leaned back in his chair, fingers steepling as he mulled over his thoughts. "Both." He turned his gaze toward her, his eyes sharp and calculating. "I've been going over the incidents he might have had a hand in—ones that seemed unrelated at first. But the more I connect the dots, the more I see a pattern."

Susan crossed her arms, leaning against the table beside him. "You think he's been playing hero behind the scenes? That doesn't fit with the image he projects."

"Exactly," Reed replied, nodding slightly. "He keeps his profile low, doesn't seek recognition or acknowledgment. That's what makes him so difficult to pin down. He operates outside the usual boundaries—neither hero nor villain, but somewhere in between."

Susan pondered this for a moment, her fingers lightly drumming against the table. "And you're saying he's been involved in saving people? Not just taking down threats, but actual heroics?"

Reed's eyes flickered with a glint of interest. "That's what I'm starting to believe. He's too calculated to make moves without purpose. Some of the chaos he creates is intentional, designed to obscure his real work. I'm going to take another look at the data. There's a connection there—I'm certain of it."

Susan exhaled slowly, her expression thoughtful. "If that's true, why hide it? Why not just operate like the rest of us?"

"That's what makes him an anomaly," Reed said, his voice steady but reflective. "He doesn't need validation. He's not playing for the spotlight. His motivations are something else entirely, and until we understand what drives him, we can't predict his moves."

Susan uncrossed her arms and looked Reed in the eye, her tone soft but firm. "You think you can figure him out?"

Reed gave a small smile, though there was no humor in it. "It's only a matter of time. Everyone leaves a trail, no matter how careful they are. The key is in the details, and you know how I love details."

Susan let out a short, quiet laugh. "That, I do. But do you think he'll make another move soon?"

Reed's expression shifted slightly, becoming more focused. "If his recent pattern holds, yes. But we need to be ready. He's not reckless—every move he makes serves a purpose. If we can figure out what he's after, we can stay ahead of him."

Susan nodded, clearly trusting Reed's judgment. "Do you think he suspects you were testing him in there?"

Reed's lips curved into a faint smile, though his eyes remained sharp. "He might have. He's extremely perceptive, but I didn't push too hard. He knows I'm studying him, but I doubt he got a full read on my intentions."

Flying through the night sky, Nero felt the familiar rush of wind against his face as he navigated the city from above. The world below passed by in a blur of lights and shadows, but something ahead caught his attention. A glint of metal, moving fast. Without stopping, Nero shifted in the air, watching the object close in on him.

It was Tony Stark.

As Iron Man slowed to hover beside him, Tony's helmet retracted, revealing his exasperated face. "You're a hard man to find," he said, his tone half-annoyed, half-amused.

Nero chuckled under his mask. "Why would I want to be found?"

Tony rolled his eyes, arms crossing over his glowing chestplate. "You said I could seek you out if I ever wanted to unseal my arc reactor."

With a snort, Nero responded, "We gave you a way to contact us. You could've done that instead of flying around in your fancy suit."

"Yeah, well, I like a personal touch." Tony paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced at Nero's form. "What is the price I need to pay?"

Nero shrugged, "Classic Tony, thinks everything can be solved with money." He glanced at the faint blue glow emanating from Tony's chest. "The price you need to pay is a favor."

Tony raised an eyebrow, his tone skeptical. "A favor? You sure you don't want some fancy Stark tech? Maybe a few billion in cash?"

"Not interested in your toys," Nero replied flatly, turning his attention back to the cityscape below. "Speaking of toys, tell Jarvis to stop scanning me with whatever new gadget you've got running. Unless you want him sealed away for a while."

Tony chuckled, but there was an edge of seriousness to it. "Hey, you can't blame a guy for being curious. Besides, Jarvis is just trying to figure out what the hell you are."

"Curiosity killed the AI," Nero shot back. "And trust me, I'm not something you can just figure out with some fancy scans."

Tony sighed, floating alongside Nero as they moved through the sky. "Fine, fine. No more scans. So, about that favor—what kind of strings are we talking here? You want me to join your secret club or something?"

Nero turned to face Tony, "It's simple. When I call, you answer. No questions, no debates."

Tony's expression shifted slightly, his usual bravado dimming for a moment. "And how do I know this 'favor' won't land me in a world of trouble?"

"You don't," Nero replied, his voice calm. "But I've got no reason to screw you over, Stark. If I wanted to, you'd already know."

Tony stared at Nero, weighing the offer in his mind before finally sighing and running a hand through his hair. "Alright, deal. But you're doing it under my watch," he said, his voice carrying a note of resignation.

Nero shrugged casually. "Sure, hand it over."

Tony hesitated for a second, then reached into his armor, producing the arc reactor from a compartment. He handed it to Nero, his eyes tracking the exchange closely. Nero caught it with ease, his orange flames flaring briefly before turning an eerie shade of purple for a single second. With a flick of his wrist, Nero tossed the reactor back to Tony, who caught it midair.

"Done. You owe me one," Nero said, his tone nonchalant.

Tony blinked in surprise, staring at the reactor in his hand. "Just like that?"

Nero's masked face didn't betray any emotion. "Just like that."

Tony glanced down at the reactor, then lifted his wrist to his face, speaking to his AI. "Jarvis, did you capture anything?"

"Negative, sir," Jarvis responded smoothly. "But I can confirm the reactor is fully operational again."

Tony's eyes flicked back to Nero, the disbelief evident on his face. "You really know how to keep things mysterious, don't you?"

Nero chuckled softly, his voice distorted by the mask. "It's part of the charm."

Tony let out a breath, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah, I know. A deal's a deal. But hey—how about we grab something to eat?" His casual suggestion hung in the air, almost too relaxed for the seriousness of their exchange just moments earlier.

Nero chuckled softly. "What, you want to undress me, Tony? You're charming, but not my type."

Tony's eyebrows shot up, and he snorted, clearly amused. "I'll take that as a compliment," he shot back, smirking. "But seriously, you ever take a break? Or are you all work, no play?"

"I play when it's worth it," Nero replied smoothly.

Tony shrugged, falling into an easy hover beside him. "You're missing out. Best shawarma in the city, three blocks that way. And trust me, I've been everywhere."

"I've got other business," Nero said, dismissing the offer with a wave of his hand. "You can eat on your own. I'm sure your ego will keep you company."

Tony laughed. "Fair enough. But don't think this is the last you'll see of me. Next time, maybe I'll buy you dessert."

Nero gave Tony a thumbs-up, the glow of his orange mask reflecting off the armor. "Sure, I'm sure I can suck a pudding with a straw without removing my mask."

Tony rolled his eyes, grumbling under his breath. "What's the point of treating you if you won't even eat like a normal human?"

Nero shrugged, hovering just above the city. "Maybe I'm not a normal human," he replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Anyway, enjoy your shawarma."

Tony huffed, the humor returning to his tone as he tapped his helmet, which folded back into place. "Next time, you're paying."

"Sure," Nero said with mock enthusiasm, already turning away. "I'll leave a tip too."

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