In the MCU with the Omnitrix/Ultimatrix

The first clear sensation is softness - expensive sheets, the kind Fisk insists on for his medical facilities. Then voices, familiar yet distant:

"His neural patterns are stabilizing-"

"The energy readings are unlike anything-"

"My son will recover here, under my supervision-"

I try to open my eyes, but even that small effort feels like bench pressing a truck. My whole body aches in a way that makes my previous battles feel like warm-up exercises.

"He's waking up," Stark's voice, closer now. "JARVIS, run another scan."

"Neural activity increasing," the AI responds. "Though the residual energy signatures remain... peculiar."

Finally, my eyes cooperate. The room comes into focus - one of Fisk's private medical suites, all chrome and white with tech that probably costs more than most hospitals.

Three faces hover in my field of vision: Stark, looking like he hasn't slept in days; Thor, his presence somehow both regal and awkward in the modern setting; and Fisk, his expression a careful mask of paternal concern.

"How long?" My voice sounds rough, unused.

"A week," Fisk answers, his tone measured. "Your... transformation had some unexpected side effects."

"That's putting it mildly," Stark interjects. "You went full cosmic light show on us, kid. Had every sensor from here to SHIELD headquarters going haywire."

Memory flashes - crimson energy, raw power, the feeling of reality bending to my will. I try to sit up, but my body protests violently.

"Easy there," Thor's voice carries genuine concern. "Even the strongest warriors need rest after wielding such power."

"The Destroyer," I manage, trying to piece together what happened. "Did we...?"

"You tore it apart," Stark says, and I can't tell if that's admiration or concern in his voice. "Not just physically - you rewrote its fundamental magical structure. Point Break here says that should be impossible."

Thor nods gravely. "The magic you wielded... it rivaled the Odinforce itself."

Great. I've been awake for two minutes and I'm already dealing with revelations about powers one would call godlike. Just another day in the life, I guess.

"The transformation," I look at my wrist, relieved to find the Ultimatrix still there, "what triggered it?"

"Emergency protocols, apparently," Stark replies. "After you took that blast... JARVIS recorded everything. We should talk about that when you're healthier."

Fisk steps forward, his massive frame blocking my view of the others. "For now, you need rest. The doctors want to run more tests, ensure there are no lasting effects."

The way he says it - protective yet calculating - reminds me of our complicated relationship. Even now, he's playing both father and chess master.

"How bad was the media coverage?" I ask, already dreading the answer.

"Extensive," Fisk admits. "Though we've managed to control the narrative. The public sees a hero who nearly sacrificed himself to protect others, then struggled with power that could have corrupted anyone."

"Makes for a compelling story," Stark adds dryly. "The prodigal son choosing humanity over godhood. Your approval ratings are through the roof."

I try to process this, but my head starts pounding. The memory of that power - the pure, intoxicating rush of it - lingers like a phantom limb.

"You chose wisely," Thor says suddenly, his blue eyes intense. "Few could resist such power once tasted. Your strength lies not in the magic you wielded, but in your willingness to let it go."

"Thanks," I manage a weak smile. "Though next time, maybe try getting your powers back before I have to play shield, yeah?"

That actually gets a laugh from the thunderer. "Indeed. Though I suspect there is much more to your story than you've shared."

"Isn't there always?" I close my eyes, exhaustion creeping back in. "How long until I'm back on my feet?"

"The doctors suggest at least another week of observation," Fisk answers. "Though given your... unique physiology, recovery may be faster."

"Great," I mutter. "A week of tests and prodding. Just what I needed."

"Consider it a vacation," Stark quips. "Though we will need to discuss that transformation eventually. The energy readings alone-"

"Stark," Fisk's voice carries a warning edge. "Perhaps such discussions can wait until my son has fully recovered?"

The tension in the room spikes slightly. Two titans of industry, neither used to backing down, both seeing me as... what? An asset? A mystery? A potential threat?

"It's fine," I interrupt before things can escalate. "We'll talk about everything. Just... not right now."

Thor places a hand on my shoulder, and I feel a slight tingle - like static electricity but warmer. "Rest, young warrior. Your battles can wait."

As they file out, Fisk lingers behind. Once we're alone, his expression shifts subtly.

"The power you displayed," he says quietly, "it changes things."

"I know." I meet his gaze steadily, despite my exhaustion. "But I'm still me. Still your son, still playing our game."

He studies me for a long moment. "Are you? That level of power... it tends to shift perspectives."

"Maybe," I admit. "But I chose to let it go. That has to count for something."

A slight smile crosses his face. "Indeed it does." He moves toward the door. "Rest. We'll discuss implications later."

As soon as the door closes, I wait exactly thirty seconds before pushing myself up. My body protests, muscles screaming like they've been through a meat grinder, but I've never been good at following medical advice.

"Computer," I grunt, swinging my legs over the bed's edge, "show me everything from the past week. News coverage, social media, all of it."

"Medical protocols suggest-"

"Override. Authorization Samael-Alpha."

The room's holographic displays spring to life, filling the air with multiple feeds. The first footage that catches my eye is from the battle - my Humungousaur form taking that final blast from the Destroyer.

Then... crimson light. Pure energy. Power that makes my head spin even just watching it.

The crimson form floating in the footage makes my breath catch - an Anodite. I never thought I'd see one, let alone become one.

It makes a weird kind of sense though - Ben Tennyson had Anodite heritage, and the Ultimatrix seems more tied to the soul than pure genetics.

Social media explodes across my screens:

I dive deeper into social media discussions, watching people argue about what happened:

Twitter Thread: @NYCitizen:

"Are we just gonna ignore that this kid could've literally destroyed everything? That power was terrifying"

-> @ShiftSupporter: "He literally took a death blast protecting people wtf is wrong with you"

-> @NYCitizen: "Being heroic doesn't make him less dangerous. Did you see what he did to that alien machine?"

-> @Hero_Watch: "He CHOSE to power down. That's what matters."

-> @ConcernedParent: "My kids love Shift but that red form... that wasn't just another transformation. That was something else"

YouTube Comments on "Shift's Transformation: Full Footage":

"The way his voice changed when the power started affecting him... actually scary"

"Everyone talking about danger but ignoring how he jumped in front of that blast to protect people (raised eyes emoji)"

"Look at 3:45 - you can see the energy warping the air around him. This isn't like his other forms"

"My daughter cried when he got hurt and cheered when he powered down. That's all I need to know about his character"

Reddit Discussion:

u/NYCLocal: "I was there. The energy coming off him felt wrong. Like reality was bending. Anyone else who was present feel that?"

-> u/ShiftWatcher: "He's literally saved hundreds of lives and you're fear mongering"

-> u/RealityCheck: "Being grateful doesn't mean we should ignore how dangerous that power was"

-> u/HeroicMoments: "Did everyone miss the part where he nearly died protecting people???"

Facebook Comment Thread:

Sarah Miller: "As a mother, seeing that kind of power in someone so young is terrifying"

James Chen: "As a father who watched Shift save my kid from that gas explosion last week, I trust him"

Linda Thompson: "Trust? Did you see what he did to that metal creature? He was losing control!"

Mark Rodriguez: "He had the power of a god and CHOSE to let it go. That's the point everyone's missing"

Live Stream Chat Replay:

"bro that power was actually scary af"

"yall really attacking a kid who almost died protecting people smh"

"notice how he started gentle then the power started affecting him?"

"my brother works near where it happened, said the air felt electric"

"people really out here acting like he didn't choose humanity over godhood"

News Comment Sections:

"This isn't about heroism, it's about safety. No one should have that much power."

"He's Wilson Fisk's son AND has this kind of power? Anyone else worried?"

"The kid literally takes a death blast protecting others and y'all still doubt him?"

"Being heroic and being dangerous aren't mutually exclusive"

The debates rage on across every platform, each side growing more passionate. Some see a hero who made the right choice, others see a potential threat that could snap at any moment.

I close the feeds, my head spinning. They're both right in a way - that power was terrifying, even to me. 

The room suddenly gets weirdly cold, and this green energy starts doing its disco light thing in the air.

Great.

Because this is exactly what I need right now - more Asgardian drama.

"Well, well," comes this super smooth voice that practically oozes 'I think I'm cleverer than everyone.' "The mortal who rivals the Odinforce. How... fascinating."

Loki materializes like he's auditioning for a ghost show, all translucent and dramatic. Even as just a projection, he's got this whole 'worship me, I'm a god' vibe going.

"Dude," I begin, choosing to look as uncaring as possible in tone and posture as I lean back in my chair, trying not to show how much everything still hurts, "if you're here to monologue about magic and destiny, can we reschedule?

I'm kind of in the middle of my post-near-death recovery."

That gets me this surprised laugh that sounds both amused and dangerous. Like a cat that found a particularly interesting mouse.

"Oh, you are delightful," he practically purrs.

"Such irreverence, even after nearly burning away your mortal form with pure magical energy." He does this whole dramatic circle around my chair.

"Tell me, how does a 'human' manage that without, well, exploding?"

"Maybe I'm just built different," I shrug. "Or maybe it's Maybelline. Take your pick."

His projection leans in closer, and I swear the temperature drops another few degrees. "The energy you wielded... it wasn't just power. It was pure creation magic."

"Cool story. Did you actually want something, or are you just here to narrate my greatest hits?"

His smile gets sharper. "You know what's coming, don't you? The changes, the threats..." He pauses like he's waiting for dramatic music. "The invasions.

Its impossible for you not to know - you saw things in that form didn't you? You're just hiding it from everyone else, like the good little hero you are..."

"Look," I meet his gaze, "if you're fishing for information, you might want to try a bigger bait. I've got Twitter threads to catch up on."

"Ah, but you know more than that, don't you?" His eyes are way too knowing for comfort. "You're playing quite the game, Samael Fisk."

The Ultimatrix chooses that moment to pulse, and Loki's attention snaps to it like a kid spotting candy.

"Now that," he practically whispers, "is a fascinating piece of... what is it exactly? Technology? Magic? Both?"

"It's a fashion statement," I deadpan. "All the cool kids are wearing alien tech these days. Really brings out my eyes."

Loki's projection circles the chair again, and I swear he's trying to out-dramatic-pause himself. "You jest, but that device... it's not of any realm I know. And I know many."

"Maybe you need to get out more. Try speed dating across the Nine Realms."

He actually chuckles at that, which is either really good or really bad. "Such spirit. Even after tasting power that could reshape worlds, you hide behind humor."

"What can I say? I'm a millennial. We cope with existential threats through memes."

"And yet," his voice gets that dangerous edge again, "when you had that power - power that could have made you a god - you chose to let it go. Most interesting."

I shift in my chair, trying to ignore how my muscles scream at me. "Yeah, well, what you call godhood seems like a lot of work. All that responsibility, having to coordinate your cape with your armor..."

"You're deflecting," Loki observes, looking way too pleased with himself. "But no matter. I simply wanted to... introduce myself properly. After all, anyone who can manipulate reality itself deserves at least that courtesy."

"Gee, thanks. Should I expect a fruit basket next?"

His smile turns razor-sharp. "Oh, I think we'll be seeing quite a bit of each other in the future. Things are changing, after all. And those who know what's coming..." He lets the sentence hang meaningfully.

"Are you always this cryptic, or am I getting the special treatment?"

"Consider it professional courtesy," he says, his form starting to fade. "From one player to another."

"Great," I mutter as he disappears. "Because my life wasn't complicated enough already."

The room warms up again, but somehow I doubt this is the last I'll see of Thor's adoptive brother. Just what I need - a trickster taking an interest in me.

Maybe I should've stayed in bed after all.

--------------------------------

(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!

Do tell me have you noticed a particular characteristic of Samael's personality?

I'll state it for those who haven't, but Samael normally tries to sound more in control, eloquent, composed, but when in a situation where scared, tired or angry, becomes more vulgar, or humouristic.

I've written him this way because I find it gives him more depth. What do you guys think?

Do you like it?

Well, I hope you do and I hope to see you all later,

Bye!)