MTL NOVEL Chapter 26: Chapter 26: "The Seeds Awaken"
The gym's fractured ruin sank into a heavy silence, She-Hulk's emerald fire a fading pulse as Jake leaned against a shattered weight rack, the Mask dangling from his fingers. Its grin caught the dim flicker of a busted fluorescent, Jen's parting growl—"I'll hit you again"—still ringing in his ears like a punch to the skull. He slid it on, green light flaring, the zoot suit snapping into place with a swagger that felt more hollow than usual. "Twenty-five down," he muttered, kicking a bent dumbbell across the mat. "Guess I'm running out of world to break."
The city wasn't sleeping—a low rumble pulsed through the concrete, not Hulk's rage this time, but something sharper, stranger. New York's skyline flickered beyond the shattered windows, lights warping like a mirage, and a shiver crawled up his spine that wasn't just the Mask's usual buzz. He stepped onto the street, air thick with ozone and something sour, like the world was sweating fear. The Mask hummed, its rasp slithering into his thoughts: "Feel that, kid? Your seeds are sprouting—chaos is waking up."
He froze, boots scuffing cracked pavement. "Seeds?" His voice cracked, half-laugh, half-dread. "You mean—" The Mask's cackle cut him off, gleeful and unhinged: "Oh, yeah. Twenty-five queens, twenty-five sparks. They're not just pretty faces anymore—your kids are kicking." Before he could process, the ground bucked—a pulse of green light erupted a block away, tearing through a bodega, screams echoing as people fled. A figure staggered from the rubble—small, maybe ten, with Natasha's red hair and eyes that glowed like his chaos tendrils.
"Shit," he breathed, heart slamming against his ribs. The kid turned, locking eyes with him, and a blast of green energy shot from her hands—raw, uncontrolled, shredding a car into twisted metal. "Nat's kid?" he muttered, dodging as the blast grazed his shoulder, singeing the zoot suit. The Mask purred: "First of many, kid. Chaos breeds chaos."
Footsteps pounded behind—Storm swooped in, lightning crackling, Jean's Phoenix flame flaring beside her. "Your spawn," Storm snapped, wind pinning him back. "They're tearing the city apart." Jean's voice layered with the Phoenix's hum: "We felt them—dozens, waking fast." Rogue landed hard, gloves off, her drawl tight: "Sugah, one's mine—ripped up Harlem like a twister." She-Hulk crashed through a wall, eyes blazing. "Mine's in Brooklyn—smashed a courthouse. What the hell did you do?"
"Didn't sign up for this," he shot back, stretching to dodge a lightning bolt, the air hissing. "The Mask's running the show—I'm just the clown in the suit!" The kid—Natasha's—blasted again, and he countered with a chaos vortex, tangling the energy, but it only grew wilder, splitting a streetlamp in half. Thor's hammer cracked the sky—Mjolnir slammed down, pinning the girl in a cage of lightning. "Thy chaos begets ruin," Thor bellowed, landing beside Sif, her blade drawn.
The Mask laughed: "They're your legacy, kid. Better get used to it." Jake's gut twisted—legacy? He'd been chasing thrills, not playing dad. Then a new figure streaked in—green skin, taller than the kid, maybe fifteen, with Jean's fire in her eyes and a snarl that wasn't human. "Another?" he groaned, ducking as she hurled a fireball, singeing his sleeve. The X-Men circled, Thor raised Mjolnir, but a voice cut through—cool, sharp, legal-edged.
"Enough!" She-Hulk stepped forward, grabbing the fiery teen's arm, her grip iron. "Jen?" he said, blinking. "You're—" "Handling it," she snapped, pinning the girl. "She's mine—ours. Got your chaos and my temper." Her smirk was grim, eyes locking on his. "You're not ducking this, Jake."
The street quaked—more green pulses flared across the city, distant screams rising. The Mask's hum turned gleeful: "They're everywhere, kid. Your harem's birthing an army." Jake's grin faltered, sweat beading under the suit. "An army?" he muttered, dodging as Thor's lightning grazed his chaos shield. Natasha landed silently, widow's bite crackling. "Mine's not the only one," she said, voice low, eyes hard. "We're mothers now—thanks to you."
Before he could quip, the portal behind flared—Hulk roared in, fists smashing, and She-Hulk tackled him, green on green. "Jen, wait!" he shouted, stretching to grab her, but she waved him off. "Deal with your kids—I've got Bruce." The X-Men closed in, Thor's hammer whirring, and Jake's chaos flared, instinctive—tendrils lashed, tangling lightning, fire, wind. "I didn't ask for this!" he yelled, voice raw, ducking Jean's telekinetic blast.
Natasha grabbed his arm, pulling him into an alley as the street erupted—green chaos clashing with mutant fury, Thor's thunder, Hulk's rage. The air thickened, a dozen more pulses lighting the skyline—his kids, waking, breaking. "You're a father," she said, pinning him to a wall, her strength a quiet storm. "Act like it." Her lips hovered, then crashed into his—gunpowder and steel, a desperate edge cutting through.
The alley was a shadowed trench—graffiti bled down brick, trash skittered in the wind, the city's chaos a roar outside. She tore his suit, her hands fierce, pinning him harder. "You made this," she growled, but her kiss deepened, tasting of regret and fire. He tugged her suit down—scars gleamed in the dim streetlight, her breath sharp as his hands roamed, sinking into her heat, fingers clawing at her core—chaos sparked between them, electric.
"Made you too," he growled, lifting her, legs locking around him with assassin's grip. They hit the wall—brick cracked under their weight, her suit peeling away fully, baring her warrior's form. His mouth traced her—neck, chest, scars—drawing a moan, low and jagged, laced with a killer's ache. He entered—slow, then fierce—her cry a snap of static, widow's bite flaring harmlessly. The Mask surged, sharpening the pulse—the molten heat, her gasps, the rhythm as she matched him, fierce and unyielding.
The alley warped—brick trembling, shadows twisting—as she rode him, hair wild, eyes blazing with raw need. Her climax hit like a silent strike, energy rippling, cracking the wall, and he spilled into her, a flood that made the Mask howl, green sparks threading through her sting. A seed deepened, chaos and steel fused anew, and they slumped, slick with sweat, her weight a lethal anchor pinning him.
Natasha's eyes flickered, hard but soft at the edges. "You're a storm, Jake—too wild to run from this." "Storms need a sting," he rasped, her heat still coiling in his chest. She rose, suit snapping back, her glance a mix of steel and something tender. "Fix it—or we will." She slipped into the dark, leaving him with the Mask, its voice smug: "Twenty-five and counting, kid. Your army's rising."
He stood, the alley a ruin, the city a battlefield of green pulses—his kids, his chaos, breaking free. She-Hulk's fire, Sif's blade, Clea's flame, Nova's blaze, Rogue's lightning, Namor's storm, Natasha's sting, Mantis' grace, Bobby's frost, Jean's fire, Venom's bite, Pepper's spark, Nebula's steel, Psylocke's edge, Kitty's phase, Emma's mind, Sue's shield, Gamora's blade, Carol's radiance, Mystique's fluidity, Storm's storm, Wanda's magic—the world shuddered under his legacy. Thanos loomed, SHIELD hunted, and the X-Men closed in. He gripped the Mask, grin sharp as a fractured sky. "Time to face the thunder."