[noted]:

It's the big debut of Caim, which I am totally excited about! I debated for a while on how to put up the chapters and how to format it and I sorta slipped into old habits but they die hard don't they? I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's sorta an introduction chapter mostly. Sorry i kept you guys waiting so long, please enjoy.

Guest: an empath is someone who can detect feelings and emotions from someone else, and in the marvel universe, the best example I can offer is Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch) and even Danny.

[ chapter one ]

reunión

Translation - meeting

Appropriation - "Furia del llamado a una reunión. Ahora."

"Looks like heaven's missing an angel."

"Oh for god's sake."

A snort like a bullhorn sounded behind white shoulders, and red and blue arms crept sneakily around a lithe waist, trapping her like iron gauntlets to his chest. A masked face hooked over her shoulder like curled fingers, pressing into the nape of her neck as she allowed herself a bit of peace between the silent walls.

"Come on, you're meant to give me constructive criticism when I'm trying out new material," he murmurs, grinning beneath the mask when her claws trail clandestine gentleness that she isn't known for - her brash, upfront attitude is more welcomed - but whenever the masked vigilante is present, she turns soft like a kitten. If he were wishing to aggravate the cat-themed hero, he'd have murmured something about a purr when he gives her a small squeeze. "Come on, what did you think, Tiger?"

"Absolutely hopeless," she turns like a spinning wheel in his arms, and picked claws lace over the bend of his shoulders and she can see the pull of his cheeks even beneath the web-themed mask. She scratches a bit of stray fluff out of existence on his upper arm. "How on earth did Aunt May raise you to tell such bad jokes?"

"Actually, she never lifted me, I was sat down a lot."

The tigress snorts and slaps a hand over her cloth-covered mouth, and she only ceases her laughter when the cloth is being pulled up and her boyfriend's mouth is pressing to hers in a vaguely-playful threat to stifle the giggles. A pleased noise slips through her teeth and she's tempted to shred the mask to pieces, just to piss him off -

Shriek. Both heroes spring apart like fire had licked at their bare skin and the web-themed hero is running the rolled up cloth back down his face and White Tiger's chewing on her lip when they turned to their friend and teammate, eyes covering the sunglasses he's known for. She sighs around her embarrassment and rolls down her mask. "Powerman, seriously? You didn't have to scream so loud."

"Learn to turn down the decibels a bit."

Powerman chokes on his words, before leveling an annoyed sneer across his face, but it lacks any true vehemence. "Hey, not my fault you're slobbering all over each other in the hallway. Send out a mass text once in a while or bar the hallways. My eyes hate me right now."

When her arms cross over her chest and her boyfriend is snickering when he throws an arm around her shoulder, she's tempted to elbow him. "Alright man, what did you want?"

"Fury's calling a meeting. Now."

She crawls out of the web-themed heroes arms out of instinct, molding into the agent she's been carved into with iron in her blood and strides forwards whilst behind her, the spider huffs around his annoyance and ambles beside them, swinging his arm nonchalantly.

"Are you serious? That's been three this week; I can only take you guys so much."

"Hey, don't look at me, you're the one's freaking us out. Remember how you two scarred Tempest?"

"Don't bring me in on this."

"It takes two to tangle tongues -"

"Ew."

"-Anyways, she should've knocked. What's this meeting about anyways? Rats in the vents? That's not uncommon in New York, you know."

Powerman shrugs his shoulders, failing to stop them shaking with laughter as they walk down towards the double doors that open to the wide room, with arched, metallic walls and a wide screen displayed at the back. A long table stretches like thread through the room, chairs scattered around it haphazardly, and in one, sat a bare-faced blond, spinning like a child on one. But, upon noticing he was no longer alone, the green-wreathed blond folded his hands and legs expertly into a traditional meditation sitting, humming slightly under his breath.

When he was met with curious looks, he stayed calm. "Spinning helps me meditate."

"Of course it does," commented a voice behind them, hard rock folding around every word and Spiderman jumped, lacing his arms around Powerman's wide shoulders before jumping down after a few moments, wiping his front off and staring around the room as he took a seat. Tiger sniggered as she fell down into her own seat, rolling the cloth from her face with a broad smile at her boyfriend as Powerman took a seat next to him.

Meanwhile, the man the voice belonged too raised one eyebrow, shuffling the papers folded gently in his hands, moving around the table briskly and lying the papers on the desk at the head. Powerman folded his glasses and leaned forwards, eyes slotting closed for a moment as the man picked through papers, betraying him for his lack of sleep as Spiderman pulled off his own mask.

"Luke, you really should be getting more sleep."

Across from Luke, Spiderman gaped. "How on earth did he see that? You're on his blindside!"

"I'm also exceptionally good of hearing Parker," ground out the man, spearing a dark gaze across the table before his fingers found the right file and threw it open, revealing a small projector panel in the center. His palm pressed over the small device, which threw up a square of holographic projection.

"Why don't Nova and Tempest have to be here for this?"

"Sam just sent a text," remarks the blond, leaning over to sneakily produce his phone, with a jumble of text on the screen, "He'll be by with Temp in about twenty of minutes and we'll give them the 'rundown'."

"Figures. They miss the lecture, we give them the short version."

"First, I want to commend you on your recent detainment of the Alabasters," cuts in Fury, fingers prodding and poking across text to show video footage of a pair of adults dressed in white, wrapped and bound in wire and webbing fluid. Someone high-fived and Fury continued like a trained soldier, "Known for their camouflage, their exceptional way to blend into even the toughest crowds and for a couple of rookies, you did good."

"Nick, it's been two years!"

"I'm aware, but you're still rookies and still kids," and he seems to pause, crinkle at the edges when he lifts another hand to the projector - hesitation like a stutter in his throat, and Tiger raises a brow before he continues, pushing through the out of body experience. His fingers find a small block in the corner of the screen, pinch from both sides and enlarge so that a picture stands in front of them. "But that's not what I came to discuss."

In front of them, in holographic glory, is a group of five teenagers. It's taken from across the room, in plain sight as no objects hinder or interrupt the image. Closest to the image is a girl, blond hair scraggly and up in a high, messy ponytail that droops down her back like a cat's folded tail. Her eyes are narrowed, ice curling across the pupils that correspond with the harsh shape of her mouth, although there is a slight tilt. Her body is bent like a ballerina - back poised like a harp string, knees bent like springs and across her hands and wrists, fire explodes like shrapnel under her command. Beside her, bent lower so his hands almost touch the ground like an animal, is a boy with black hair like his eyes, with a wide grin that looks almost shark-like if analysed long enough, black headband and diamond mask obscuring parts of his face from the picture. The black tank top seems to hang like drying laundry off of his shoulders, as well as his skin glistening with either sweat or water. The image was taken at just the exact moment to catch the boy half way between boy and animal as he attacked.

Hovering above them, is a Hispanic girl with ebony hair in thick curls, that sways behind her like the wind is braiding it's teeth through it, a long braid flowing through it. Her chin is tucked into her chest with a challenging smile, biting on the edges of rebellion as her arms are thrown wide, like she hangs on a cross as a goddess. Over her body, is sleek, grey jumpsuit that is zipped down to her navel, showing off a black sports bra so much that Peter immediately diverts his eyes from the girl to a corner of the room. From her finger tips, are splintered light bugs if seen at first glance, but are molded into knives like claws. Her gaze drips across the room towards two more people, a boy and a girl, half-facing them.

The girl stands with her back to the camera, clad in a complete black body suit that hugs her figures down to small black boots that fold around her ankles. Her hand is up to the other three across the room, paused like she holds puppets strings in her fingers. Across from her, is a boy with his hands curled like claws at his chest, crackled electricity arching like vines across his fair-skinned hands. His face is obscured by the visor that hangs over his features, though his eyes can be seen as wide - almost in wonder at his own hands - though his mouth is a bitten piece of skin in anxiety. He's dressed in a leather yellow-and-blue jumpsuit that huffs a collar around his throat, a thunderbolt stabbing it's way across his chest in the design. His feet are placed a few inches apart, awaiting the onslaught of their teammates.

Fury taps his fingers idly, before Luke peers forwards, confused by the image. "So, who are they? What about them?"

Fury huffs a breath, pausing in the corners, before pushing forwards. "This is Paradox 13, or P13. I'm not sure if you'd have heard of them from other agents, since they aren't documented in the SHIELD handbook as part of our regimen or against us. They're ghosts, but contrary to the ghost stories, they're ours," his fingers shuffle, and an incident report lights the screen across half the picture, blotting out the two lone figures on one side. Lines of text greet them, and Fury tosses out folders, two more towards Peter for Nova and Tempest to read. "Lately, we've had them tracking a group of terrorists that have split into groups of five, but they've been having trouble keeping track of them all. They could only tail one group, and they're sure that it's a group of teenage girls, as boys and girls are kept separate. But it's gotten to the point where they've engaged at least once, and come out on the worst side, so they need help."

Tiger's halfway through flicking across her report, dark brows crunched in concentration when she peers up. "And you want us to help them? No offence Director, but you did just call us rookies ten minutes ago."

The dark-skinned man nods, ivory crawling through his skin as he tries not to sigh around his discomfort at the idea. "I know, but given the circumstances, you're our most eligible team. You're young, so you can connect with both Paradox and this other group of individuals. You're experienced and most of all, you're kind. That's something that's not really appreciated in our line of work, but it should be - these kids, they're kind to a fault. They'll do what it takes to get a mission done, kill or be killed. They need the social experience to complete this mission and win them over."

"You're putting us on this mission because we're good at smiling?"

Fury bites on a laugh at the simple accusation, hardly betraying his stone mask. "That would appear so, Parker. Gear up, all of you. I invited them on here to go over battle plans and train before the mission goes underway."

"W-Wait, they're here already?" spits Luke as he folds the sunglasses over his features once again, jogging to catch up with the director who taps out a few commands onto his wrist communicator. Beside him, Iron Fist hands him the stack of folders he'd left on the table back in the room.

The Director continues a few more steps before answering. "Yes, they're efficient enough to want to get right to work. What they don't know is that this is also an introduction session to their temporary new teammates."

They come into view of the training room, and the doors slide open with a scream that rattles the hall as yelling ensues from inside the room. It's not unknown for there to be noise - Powerman's music player, a few agents humming as they fight to keep fit - but unbridled screaming in anger has never been found to shake the room. Spiderman plunges his hands over his ears, careful of his folder, to block out the noise that threatens to shatter his ear drums.

Across the room, a flickering blue energy hovers in the air, black helmet pulsing with the power that resides beneath it's chrome sphere. Nova's mouth is twisted into an angry line, spilling insults and sarcasm like water over the jut of his lip towards a girl with dark hair, the same girl on the photo. Her hands are placed on her hips, rebellious smile tugging it's way across her mouth as she reverts back in retort to his anger.

Beneath Nova, hanging onto his foot to try to bring him back to the ground is Tempest, tongue twisted over her top lip in concentration and when their teammates push through the doors, she shudders a sigh of relief and mouths a 'help me' towards the other members of their group. She hangs off Nova's leg in defeat when he refuses to reach the ground again after another sharp tug, flinching when his voice raises higher.

"You have absolutely no right to be in here -"

"Actually, I have special clearance that I'm sure you don't, you fuc -"

"Lux! Language," yells the girl that leans on the wall across from the fight, arms crossed over the black jumpsuit, red eye-panels peering inquisitively at the Director and the band of heroes behind him. She doesn't flinch when Lux sighs around her annoyance.

Across the room, Iron Fist crosses to lend a helping hand, and gives a soft nudge to Nova's chest, where it hovers just beside his head. Nova's eyes turn downwards, fire curling like thread through the irises, and Iron Fist waves. "Nova. Come down. You are scaring Tempest."

Immediately, the boys shoulders soften and he floats to the ground, hooking an arm around the timid girl's shoulder which she gladly leans into, thankful the yelling has stopped. Lux tilts back, spearing a glance at the blond before putting the battle to rest. Behind her, one of the boys groans in mock-annoyance at the loss of action, and they pick themselves up like discarded objects, folding into the center of the room along with the Director.

"Alright, now I don't know what the damn hell just happened, but it stops here," everyone, including the other teenagers, turn silent and still as the Director scolds them, before he gestures a hand to the other group towards Spiderman's team. "Ultimates, meet Paradox 13."