Marvel: Familia System

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With Banner secured and taken to a separate hide-out by Nigel, the rest of the crew returned to the base, blending into the dark streets as Maria's illusions cloaked their movements. They filed into their usual room, a low-lit, underground space outfitted with rows of screens, maps, and a series of complex boards covered in Sofia's sprawling web of connections and data.

Nero settled into his chair at the head of the table, glancing over the room before turning to Sofia. "What's the situation?" he asked.

Sofia, who was already at her setup, swiveled in her chair to face him, a small grin flashing across her face. "General Ross is done," she started, crossing her arms. "I've got him on multiple channels, and it's not pretty. During the fight, I hacked his comms and recorded everything. Let's just say, his talk was as dirty as his tactics."

Diego leaned against the wall, eyebrows raised. "You caught Ross on record? The guy's practically a fossil—thought he'd be too careful for that."

"Please," Sofia said, smirking. "The old man was confident he'd covered his tracks, so he didn't bother being careful. And he didn't realize that someone might be listening in. He practically broadcasted his intentions on Hulk, Abomination, and his 'official cover-up' plan to anyone who could hack his signal."

Donald chuckled, shaking his head. "Wouldn't surprise me if half his operations are just him talking to himself, thinking no one's watching."

Nero nodded. "Give me the highlights. What exactly are we sitting on here?"

Sofia's fingers danced over her keyboard, pulling up audio files and transcriptions. "Alright, so here's the juicy part. First, Ross wanted Hulk to do as much damage as possible to justify his own team's intervention. It was supposed to look like the military swooping in to 'save' the city, all part of his agenda to get bigger, better toys from Congress. He's pushing hard for a line of experimental tech—he called them 'Titan Killers'—in response to Hulk and other meta threats. And he's been trying to manipulate SHIELD into backing him up."

Diego whistled, impressed. "So he wanted Hulk on a rampage to make himself look like the hero? That's classic."

"Yep," Sofia replied, scanning the transcript. "And here's where it gets real good. I pulled his recent financial records and found a few interesting accounts. Let's just say, he's been funneling a significant amount of funds into 'black projects' that Congress doesn't know about. His Pentagon budget can't account for all his spending. I've got trails going to private labs and even some companies outside the U.S., each with enough money moving around to fund a small army."

Anthony leaned in, interested. "Anything specific about those labs? Or is he just throwing money to keep them quiet?"

"Specifics, yeah," Sofia replied. "One of these labs—big, privately owned—has been running experiments on captured mutants. Human testing, genetic modifications, you name it. All buried under generic lab names, so no one blinks twice. I traced a few samples, and it's ugly. The subjects are disposable to him; he refers to them as 'assets to the cause.'" She clicked through her files. "In another call, he outright mentioned needing more 'samples' to perfect his latest 'weaponized response unit.' Not just Hulk he's after; he wants anyone with abilities."

"Charming guy," Donald muttered, scowling. "That's a mess waiting to blow up in his face."

Nero's gaze didn't waver. "Did you get the names of these labs?"

"Got 'em all, boss. Three of them are even connected to his Titan Killer projects," Sofia said, bringing up more data on the main screen. "Here, each location marked in red is one of Ross's primary research sites. All under different names but linked through offshore accounts."

Diego grinned, looking at Nero. "And you've got a plan for this, right? Because it sounds like it's begging for a little… exposure."

Nero nodded. "Timing is everything. We're not dropping this just yet. We'll wait until he's on the verge of a major presentation, probably right before he pitches Congress. That's when we'll drop everything we have. The timing will make it impossible for him to recover. Sofia, we'll hit all three platforms—Squeak, Facenote, and Instaroll. When the public backlash hits, Ross won't have a shred of credibility left."

Sofia's eyes gleamed with enthusiasm. "Oh, I've got it covered. His profile will go from hero to villain faster than he can say 'classified.' The videos, the documents—everything's prepped. And thanks to my backdoor access, it'll look like an inside leak, not some outside attack."

"Perfect," Nero replied, glancing around the room. "The more noise we make, the less Ross can fight it. By the time he tries to cover this, he'll be too deep in his own mess to breathe."

Anthony cracked his knuckles. "So, what are we waiting for?"

"Not much longer," Sofia said. "If my timing's right, Ross is scheduled to meet with a few big names in D.C. in the next week. Once he's out in public and under scrutiny, we hit him where it hurts."

Diego nodded. "While he's busy sweet-talking the suits, we'll be feeding the public his darkest secrets. Can't think of a better stage for this kind of takedown."

Nero tapped his fingers against the armrest, glancing around the room. "Anthony, gather our men and prepare to hit those labs during Ross's Congress meeting. We'll reveal everything once we've secured the 'assets' he's been stashing away in those places."

Anthony nodded, already reaching for his comms. "Got it. I'll coordinate with our usuals and make sure the right people are ready. Nothing's getting missed on this run."

"Good." Nero turned to Diego. "Press is your domain, again. And this time, we're taking it beyond national. I want every corner of the globe talking about what we find."

Diego's grin grew wider. "Oh, don't worry. By the time I'm done, they'll be begging for even more dirt on Ross. I'll make sure the whole story goes viral in a dozen languages."

Satisfied, Nero leaned back in his chair, but his gaze shifted to Donald, who had been quietly watching from his place in the shadows. "Donald," he began, "I need you to step back from the crew for a bit."

Donald's head jerked up, eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?" The tension in his voice was unmistakable. "Since when do I get benched?"

Nero sighed, his fingers steepling in front of him. "This isn't a benching. It's... let's call it 'destiny intervention.' Something about your true identity—or at least a part of it—is starting to come up."

Donald held Nero's gaze, struggling to process what he was hearing. "Destiny? True identity?" He let out a short laugh, though it held no humor. "What is this, a mystic prophecy?"

"It's not a prophecy, but it's real." Nero's tone was firm, leaving no room for doubt. "There's a pull on you, Donald. You felt it in that last fight in Harlem, didn't you?"

Donald's face grew taut, and he looked away, jaw clenched. "I felt… something," he admitted reluctantly. "But it didn't seem like the time to stop and question it."

 Nero leaned forward, voice lowered. "Well, now is the time. This isn't something you can ignore. You've wanted answers for years—about your past, your dreams, your identity. It's time to face it."

Donald met Nero's gaze, the weight of the words landing, but he didn't hesitate. "I've been ready for a long time," he said quietly. Then, without a trace of doubt, he stepped forward, cane tapping rhythmically as he approached Nero. They stood in silence for a beat before Nero rose, clasping Donald in a brotherly embrace.

"I'll be back," Donald said, his voice unshakeable.

Nero let out a chuckle. "I know. And probably even more handsome, buffed, and charismatic—but I know you'll be back."

Donald pulled away, brow furrowed, and tilted his head. "I like the sound of that," he said, flashing a faint smile before he turned, leaving the room without looking back.

The rest of the team watched in silence as he disappeared through the doorway, the weight of his departure settling in the room. After a moment, Maria stepped closer to Nero, her voice just above a whisper. "So what's the deal? Since when do you send him off alone with a mystery like that hanging over him?"

Nero leaned back, hands folded. "It's something he has to uncover himself," he replied, his tone nonchalant. "I don't keep secrets from you all, you know that. But this—this isn't mine to tell."

Sofia leaned back in her chair, her gaze fixed on Nero. "If he's off chasing ghosts, that's fine. But if it's going to mess with our timing on Ross, you'd better tell us now."

"Nothing's changing with Ross," Nero assured her. "Donald's path won't interfere. The crew is ready, and this timing couldn't be more ideal." He gestured at the screens, the countless feeds streaming data and chatter that Sofia had set up, each one primed to deliver Ross's imminent downfall. "When Ross takes the podium, we'll be three steps ahead."

Diego rubbed his hands together, grinning as he glanced at the data Sofia had pulled up on one of the screens. "Just say the word, boss. Can't wait to see that fossil scramble when this all goes live. Might make me start liking politics."

A week slipped by in a whirl of planning, data-checking, and careful arrangements. Ross's presentation to Congress was set, and so was Nero's team, each of them poised like gears in a clock about to strike. In the underground room, the team gathered around as Sofia made the final checks, her screens lit up with tracking feeds, financial records, and the schematics of Ross's "Titan Killer" projects, all stolen from his own files. They had everything—proof of illegal testing, covert financial channels, details on lab locations—all queued for release.

"Any last-minute hiccups?" Nero asked, not looking away from Sofia's screens.

"Smooth as butter," Sofia replied. "Our friends in the media have everything loaded on a timed release. The second Ross gets rolling, we'll drop the first file." She tapped a screen. "And our dear old general is already nervous. They're whispering around Capitol Hill, but he's pushing through. He thinks he's untouchable."

Diego grinned, watching the display with barely concealed excitement. "He'll wish he stayed home. You got the distribution lined up?"

"Lined up and primed," Sofia answered, her fingers flying over the keys. "Squeak, Facenote, and Instaroll are primed to blast out all the dirt the second it goes live. We're doing this from every angle."

Nero gave a nod, looking over to Anthony. "And the sites?"

Anthony straightened, adjusting his leather gloves. "Prepped and waiting. We're going in the second the first leak drops. All we need is the word."

Maria adjusted her ring, glancing over at Nero. "Ross has no clue, does he?"

"Not one," Nero replied, a glint in his eye. "He's about to walk into a cage match he doesn't even know he signed up for."

A light flashed on Sofia's console, and she looked up, her grin widening. "And that's our cue. His meeting just started." She hit a key, and the first batch of files went live, spreading across media platforms with an explosion of alerts and headlines.

As soon as Ross started his speech to Congress, Anthony's team moved into action. All three of Ross's labs lit up with red alerts as masked figures swept through each one, taking out guards and securing the labs' data. Anthony led the charge, his movements precise, taking down any resistance with a speed and silence that left no time for alarms. In the far corner of the main lab, rows of containment units held their "assets"—captured mutants and subjects forced into genetic experiments. Anthony motioned to his team, and they began unsealing the pods, helping the weakened test subjects out of their confines.

"Move fast," Anthony ordered, his voice low. "We've got twenty minutes max before reinforcements show up."

From behind him, one of his crew muttered, "Didn't realize we'd be hitting a sci-fi horror show. These are actual people, damn it."

Anthony didn't pause. "No time for commentary. Just get them out. We're blowing this place when we're done."

Across the globe, social media platforms lit up like fireworks as Sofia's files dropped. All at once, Squeak, Facenote, and Instaroll filled with posts, images, videos, and documents, each exposing Ross's hidden agendas. The first wave was damning enough: leaked audio of Ross speaking candidly about the "necessity" of collateral damage to justify increased military spending. Posts showed Ross's bank statements, detailing the unapproved funding trails to black-market labs, the experiments, and the unethical handling of mutant subjects.

Diego had ensured that each release hit with the maximum impact, his connections in the press making sure every media outlet covered it within minutes. In the United States alone, trending topics exploded: #RossGate, #UnmaskedAgenda, and #MutantTruth. The posts rolled out in waves, hitting the public from all angles.

In the underground room, Sofia monitored the feeds with a satisfied grin. "It's going exactly as planned."

General Ross stood behind the podium, his gaze sweeping over the room filled with politicians, military officials, and press members all focused on him with an intensity that felt almost too comfortable. The screens behind him displayed images of recent cityscapes reduced to rubble, each image framed by a red border, highlighting the chaos left in the wake of what he called "non-human hazards."

Ross cleared his throat and leaned into the microphone, the room falling silent. "Ladies and gentlemen, these images aren't from some distant war zone. No, this is our home, our cities. What you're seeing here is the result of unchecked mutants and rogue metas. And I ask you—are we just going to sit by and let this destruction continue?"

The crowd murmured, the unease in the room as clear as the images on the screen.

Ross pressed on, each word calculated, each image on the screen changing in sync with his speech. "We're seeing an alarming increase in incidents involving both mutants and non-human threats. Each time one of these beings goes rogue, it's not just a few buildings that pay the price; it's entire neighborhoods, lives torn apart, safety shattered." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in before continuing. "This isn't just a national issue. This is a global crisis."

A senator near the front leaned forward, nodding as if already on board. Ross caught the motion and focused his gaze in that direction, feeding off the support. "We can't just wait for the next disaster. We need a proactive response, one that meets these threats head-on, with strength and precision."

He motioned to the screen, which now displayed a new image—blueprints of heavily armored suits, an array of advanced weaponry, each piece labeled with specifications and stats. A logo in the corner displayed the words "Titan Killer" in bold red letters. "That's where the Titan Killer initiative comes in. These units are designed to counteract the power of even the most destructive threats. This isn't just a show of strength; it's a commitment to protecting our cities, our people, from the damage that these superhuman hazards continue to cause."

The crowd's murmurs grew louder, some in awe, others in cautious agreement. Ross gave them a tight, controlled smile, pushing forward. "Imagine a world where incidents like the one we saw last week in Harlem are no longer possible. Where our forces have the tools to intervene before these monsters can lay waste to entire neighborhoods." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice but amplifying its impact. "That's the world I'm fighting for, the world these Titan Killers are designed to protect."

He stood back, letting the blueprints fade as the image shifted to a still frame of the Hulk in mid-rampage, frozen on screen as he smashed through a car. "This," Ross continued, gesturing to the image, "is what we're up against. No law, no warning, just raw, unfiltered power tearing through our communities. We can't afford to stand by and hope for the best anymore."

There was a pause as he let that sink in, his expression grave. Then, with a slight shift in tone, he added, "Now, I understand there may be concerns about cost, about oversight. Let me assure you, every dollar invested in this program goes directly to ensuring our cities are safe from threats the likes of which our traditional forces simply can't handle."

As Ross spoke, pressing his agenda with every carefully chosen word, a loud buzz spread through the room. Phones buzzed, screens lit up, and suddenly, the crowd of reporters and politicians shifted, eyes widening as they scrolled through notifications with incredulous looks.

Ross paused, noticing the change in the room's energy. "Ladies and gentlemen, as I was saying—"

A reporter in the back called out, cutting him off. "General Ross, care to comment on the leaked recordings where you explicitly say that collateral damage is 'necessary to secure funding'?"

The murmur grew louder, turning into a wave of whispers and gasps. Another voice rang out from across the room, this one sharper. "General, what about the footage of the genetic labs—human testing on captured mutants? Did Congress approve this?"

Ross's face tightened, but he maintained his composure, giving a small, forced smile. "If we could all stay on topic—"

A third reporter wasn't having it. "On topic? General, the news says your Titan Killer project is funded through off-the-books accounts, black money funneled from unauthorized channels. Is that on topic enough?"

Ross clenched the podium, his jaw tight as he scanned the crowd. Senators exchanged uneasy glances, while the press scrambled, their questions growing louder and more pointed. How did all go out?

"Is it true your initiative targets both metahumans and mutants, regardless of their threat level?" a reporter yelled from the front row.

Another chimed in, "How do you justify endangering civilians just to push your agenda?"

Ross's forced calm began to crack. He stepped back, clearing his throat, but the questions kept coming, bombarding him from every direction.

"General, these files—hundreds of them—are going viral as we speak! Isn't it true you've been involved in illegal experiments for years?"

"Are the 'Titan Killers' just another way for you to play God with people's lives?"

"How many lives have been destroyed because of your 'necessary collateral'? Can you tell us that?"

A ripple of panic crossed Ross's face as he scanned the room, seeing the phones in everyone's hands, reporters streaming the chaos live, camera flashes going off in rapid succession. He raised his hand, attempting to regain control. "If you could all just wait—"

A senator's voice cut through the commotion. "General Ross, as an elected official, I demand an answer! Did you knowingly authorize human experimentation under the guise of public safety?"

Ross hesitated, the pressure mounting. "Senator, I assure you, any actions taken were strictly within the realm of national defense. The files you're referring to have been doctored and misinterpreted by those who don't understand the stakes involved here."

From the back of the room, a sharp laugh cut through his response. Diego, blending into the crowd, shook his head as he held up his own phone. "Really, General? You're saying they're doctored? Because these transcripts sound pretty damn real to me." He tapped the screen, playing a segment of Ross's recorded call, loud enough for the whole room to hear.

On the recording, Ross's voice rang out: "…if a few neighborhoods get flattened in the process, so be it. These things don't answer to anything less than overwhelming force, and that's the point."

The room exploded in gasps and indignant shouts. A senator leaned forward, glaring at Ross. "Are you admitting you'd let innocent people suffer just to justify your projects?"

Ross shot Diego a dark look, his voice laced with irritation as he stammered, "Who are you, and what are you doing with that—"

"Just a concerned citizen," Diego replied, grinning. "Here to ask a few questions on behalf of everyone who doesn't want their neighborhood turned into a battlefield for your little experiments."

Another senator wasn't buying Ross's excuses. "This is unacceptable. General, are you seriously denying these tapes, despite everyone here listening to your own words?"

Ross's expression turned desperate, his fingers gripping the edges of the podium. "Senators, representatives, these accusations are baseless and orchestrated by individuals trying to sabotage our national security efforts. You all know the threat we face. The people in this room know what's at stake."

A reporter laughed. "At stake? Or is it just your ego, General? You're talking about 'sabotage,' but it seems like the only sabotage here is what you're doing to your own credibility."

Ross glared at the reporter, then at Diego, as if he could will them into silence. But more voices kept piling on.

"Is it true you plan to roll out 'Titan Killers' to other major cities, regardless of collateral?"

"What about the labs—where are those located? How many people are currently in them?"

"And are we supposed to believe Congress knows nothing about this?"

Ross looked around, cornered, his usual confidence crumbling. His voice faltered as he forced out a response. "Our projects are designed to keep people safe. What you're all seeing has been twisted beyond recognition to serve the agendas of those who don't understand the threat we're facing."

The room erupted again, the press hammering him with questions while the senators exchanged wary looks. No one was buying it.

In the back, Diego held up his phone, flashing a video he'd just shared to the entire press gallery. "Oh, here's a fun one," he called out. "The lab where Ross's team captured mutants and stuck them in cells like lab rats. These were people, General—people who had families. What's your take on that?"

Ross's mask cracked completely. "Enough!" he shouted, voice filled with anger as he pounded his fist on the podium. "This is not a trial. We're dealing with national security here. None of you understand what we're up against!"

A cold silence filled the room. A senator stood up, folding his arms. "On the contrary, General, we understand all too well. What we're seeing is a power-hungry military official willing to cross every ethical boundary in the name of personal glory."

Ross's face flushed red. "This is for the safety of this country—every decision I've made has been with that in mind."

Another senator scoffed. "You honestly expect us to believe that? It looks like you've used the nation's fears to line your pockets and experiment on its citizens. Tell me, General, what 'safety' involves torturing innocents?"

Reporters continued to push forward, their questions blending into one loud, damning roar. Ross tried to cut them off, to regain control, but the damage was done. The recordings, videos, and files had spread too quickly, each new piece further implicating him, each damning detail a nail in his reputation's coffin.

In the shadows, Diego watched, a satisfied grin on his face as the room descended into chaos. He tapped his phone, messaging Sofia.

Diego: "Showtime, Sofia. He's going down exactly as planned."

Sofia: "Perfect. Let me know if they throw him in cuffs on live TV."

Back in the room, Ross scanned the crowd, desperation clear on his face. He straightened, a last-ditch attempt at authority, though his voice shook. "Enough. I won't stand here and be slandered by false evidence and biased media vultures. I have the full backing of this country's most powerful leaders—"

A senator's voice cut him off. "General Ross, you're finished here. Expect a full investigation, and if I were you, I'd get yourself a lawyer."

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