Vector Control in Marvel

Doctor Strange's voice boomed across the battlefield as he leapt from the city wall.

"Cut!"

His battle axe gleamed in the dim light before it cleaved straight through the nearest Mindless One, splitting the monstrous beast in two with a sickening wail.

He didn't pause to admire his work.

Blood still dripping from his weapon, Strange charged deeper into the swarm of creatures.

He was a streak of crimson, weaving through the chaos with inhuman speed. 

Each swing of his axe carved through flesh and bone, sending guttural death cries echoing into the night.

The battlefield reeked of blood and decay.

Corpses piled up under Strange's relentless assault. 

He was an unstoppable force, tearing through the mutated monstrosities as if they were nothing more than weeds in his path.

The creatures barely had time to react before they were reduced to lifeless husks, their massive forms crumbling beneath his feet.

Because he was the Sorcerer Supreme… the Supreme Sorcerer… a Sorcerer~!

Not every magic wielder could fight like this. Many struggled to hold their own against the monstrous Mindless Ones. 

But three warriors stood out amidst the carnage, their rage against the beasts burning as fiercely as Strange's own. 

Katie, Bobby, and Colossus stood their ground, cutting through the creatures with a deadly efficiency that matched his own.

Katie was untouchable. 

Every Mindless One that lunged at her phased right through, unable to lay so much as a claw on her. 

With a tap of the golden bracelet on her wrist, she summoned a gleaming spear, its tip flashing as she skewered one of the creatures straight through the heart. 

The bracelet, a piece of magical equipment granted by Strange himself, was typically seen as a beginner's tool—something lesser magicians used to summon weapons. 

But in Katie's hands, it was deadly. 

She didn't waste a single movement, leaving destruction in her wake: spears piercing hearts, blades slicing through spinal cords, even well-placed bricks crushing skulls.

Beside her, Bobby was a walking storm of ice and death. 

Any Mindless One that stepped within twenty meters of him was doomed. 

With a mere outstretch of his hand, the monsters froze on the spot before shattering into bloody ice shards. 

His power was terrifying. 

Even Professor X had once believed Bobby had the potential to reach Omega-level status. 

Freezing the air and shaping ice was only the beginning. 

If he focused, he could manipulate the very water molecules within a living body, killing with just a thought. 

It was a power he kept hidden—too brutal, too inhumane. 

But against these monstrous creatures, he had no reason to hold back.

A ring with a glowing blue gemstone sat on his finger, pulsating with energy. 

It was an enchanted artifact designed to amplify ice magic while easing the strain on his abilities. 

A useful tool, but Bobby hardly needed it for the slaughter he was unleashing.

John, on the other hand, wasn't as lucky. 

His ring was far less impressive—barely capable of summoning a small fireball. 

For someone like him, who could manipulate fire but not create it, the ring was more of a crutch than a weapon. 

But that might change. 

Exposure to the fires of Hell had pushed his X-gene to the brink of evolution. 

If he could harness this moment, if he could cross that barrier and learn to generate his own flames, he would finally step into his full potential.

On the battlefield, Bobby fought more like a magician than a mutant. 

Ice bloomed around him, lethal and merciless, staining the ground with the blood of his enemies. 

But he was still a mutant… a mutant… a mutant~!

Of course, Bobby's rampage wouldn't have been so effortless without Colossus at his side. 

Pete was a juggernaut, the embodiment of brute force. 

The magical armor Strange had provided fit him perfectly, giving him the appearance of a medieval knight—though no knight had ever wielded a battle axe with such devastating efficiency. 

He waded into combat without hesitation, locking horns with the Mindless Ones in a brutal display of strength. 

Flesh met steel, and the Mindless Ones were found wanting.

Even Strange, as he fought, stole a glance at Pete's raw power. 

The way he took the creatures head-on, standing his ground like an immovable force, was a sight to behold. 

It was a contest of sheer brutality, and Pete was winning.

From a safe distance, Ethan observed the battlefield, watching as his allies adapted with surprising ease to the fusion of mutant abilities and magic. 

A slow exhale left his lips.

They were holding their own. 

'Good.'

...

"Ethan, can you hear me?" Coulson's voice crackled through the communicator in Ethan's ear.

"What is it?" Ethan asked, his eyes still fixed on the battlefield below.

"The ten bombers from the aircraft carrier are set to arrive in ten minutes. But those flying monsters in the sky... well, let's just say they're going to have a problem with the bombers' flight path."

"Got it. I'll handle it," Ethan replied, shutting off the communicator.

The battle on the ground was still a mess. 

Despite their best efforts, the mages were being forced into a defensive position, falling back into the city to use the buildings for cover. 

Not everyone could fight like Doctor Strange—who was currently hacking through the creatures with a ferocity that made even hardened warriors pause.

The fight had turned into a war of attrition, and with the sheer number of Mindless Ones, the tide was bound to turn against them sooner or later. 

The creatures were relentless, absorbing spells and blows like mindless drones with a singular purpose—destruction. 

Even the initial hellfire attack had only culled a fraction of them, and the ones that remained had regrouped into smaller, deadlier packs.

Ethan narrowed his eyes. Time to tip the scales.

Raising a hand,

A violent gust roared across the battlefield, whipping through the sky with unnatural force. 

The clouds above began to swirl, pulled into a spiraling vortex as the air pressure shifted. 

Within seconds, a massive storm cell formed over Kamar-Taj, swallowing the sky in darkness. 

Thunder rumbled, deep and ominous.

Lightning streaked through the forming storm, illuminating the battlefield below in flickering bursts. 

The flying Mindless Ones screeched as the winds took hold, their massive forms struggling against the sheer force of nature. 

But it was useless.

Gargantuan tornadoes descended from the storm, ripping through the creatures like a divine reckoning. 

The shrieks of the Mindless Ones were drowned out by the howling winds as they were sucked into the storm's core.

 And then, as if to seal their fate, blinding streaks of lightning crashed down, obliterating them mid-air.

The storm raged, cleansing the sky of the monstrous threat.

"Ethan, the bombers will be in range in one minute. Also, the flight team has some… concerns about the next phase of the mission," Coulson's voice came through again.

"Patch them through. I'll answer their questions."

"Agent 0233, requesting connection! Repeat—requesting connection!" a familiar voice came through his earpiece.

Ethan blinked. "Agent 0233? Wait, it's you again?!"

"Uh… Sir. Hunt? You're the one leading this operation?!" The sheer panic in Agent 0233's voice was enough to make Ethan pause. 

The man sounded like he was about to eject himself from the cockpit.

"Yeah, it's me," Ethan admitted, rubbing his temple. "Why do you sound like you've seen a ghost?"

"With all due respect, sir, every mission I've been on with you has ended in absolute insanity! And now you're coordinating an airstrike?!" Agent 0233 groaned. 

"Why do I have the worst luck?"

"You're still a pilot? I thought you transferred out."

"I was originally a pilot, yes. But after watching too many spy movies as a kid, I switched to field ops. Now, since S.H.I.E.L.D. deployed the aircraft carrier for this mission, they decided to put me back in the flight team as commander to ensure ground-air coordination. Lucky me."

"Ah, makes sense," Ethan mused. "Anyway, you had questions about the mission? Go ahead."

"...Can I not ask?" Agent 0233 muttered. "Because every time I do, things go off the rails."

Of course, even though Agent 0233 felt like his sanity was slipping away, he still had to follow protocol. 

This mission was too important—after all, even a Helicarrier had been deployed. 

If he screwed up and things went south, he'd be the one paying the price, and S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't exactly forgiving when it came to failure.

"Sir. Hunt, at the coordinates you provided, we detected an extreme shift in weather patterns. Are you sure we should proceed?" Agent 0233 asked cautiously.

"Of course, I know about the weather changes. That's why you need to get in there fast," Ethan replied impatiently.

"Sir, with all due respect, hurricanes and thunderstorms are literal death traps for aircraft," Agent 0233 reminded him.

Sure, military jets were built to handle rough conditions, but no pilot in their right mind would willingly fly into a storm like this. 

It was common sense.

"Danger? Please." Ethan scoffed. 

"Without that storm, you'd be in real trouble. You have no idea what's waiting for you down here. Now quit hesitating and execute the order."

Agent 0233 clenched his jaw. 

He wanted to argue, wanted to point out just how insane this was—but he also knew better than to defy a direct order, especially from Ethan. 

The guy wasn't just some desk-bound consultant; he was a walking force of crazy. 

If he said the storm was safer, then maybe, just maybe, it actually was.

"Understood, sir…" he muttered, gripping the controls. "Fighters, follow my lead. We're going in."

As the bombers approached Kamar-Taj, Agent 0233 braced for turbulence. 

He expected alarms blaring, engines sputtering, and his squadron struggling to maintain control. 

But instead… nothing.

The massive tornadoes, which should have been ripping them apart, shifted just enough to clear a safe path. 

The thunderstorms, instead of lashing out at their aircraft, seemed contained within the storm's core. 

It was as if the very elements were making way for them.

That's when it hit him.

Vector control.

Ethan wasn't just controlling the battlefield—he was controlling the very forces of nature itself.

Before Agent 0233 could fully process that terrifying realization, his attention was yanked to the chaos below.

 The city was overrun with monstrous creatures—towering, grotesque abominations tearing through buildings and engaging in brutal skirmishes with magic-wielding defenders.

"Sir… these are our targets?" he asked in disbelief.

"That's right," Ethan confirmed.

Agent 0233 took a deep breath, nodding to himself. 

"Understood. We'll handle it. Those powered individuals—are they mutants? We'll do our best to avoid hitting them, but collateral damage is inevitable."

"You've got it all wrong." Ethan's voice was calm but firm. 

"The areas where they're fighting? Those are your priority targets. Bomb them. Hard."

Agent 0233 almost choked. "Uh… sir? The people fighting those things—"

"Are handling themselves just fine," Ethan cut him off. 

"If they've got the guts to go toe-to-toe with these monsters, they'll survive a little firepower. Besides, portals exist. They'll move."

Agent 0233 was beginning to question whether Ethan was more concerned about taking out the enemy or just enjoying the fireworks. 

And then came the real kicker.

"As for collateral damage—how many napalm bombs did you bring?" Ethan continued. 

"Anything flammable? Use it. When the Helicarrier resupplies, Coulson should have already passed along my reminder: if it burns, get rid of it."

Agent 0233 stared at his console, his grip tightening on the controls. "Sir… you're serious, aren't you?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Ethan responded casually.

Agent 0233 couldn't help but feel like this mission wasn't about clearing out monsters—it was about leveling the entire damn city.

Still, orders were orders. He hesitated only for a moment before swallowing his doubt.

"One more question, sir… after all this, are we going to rebuild?" The last time he worked under Ethan, things had… escalated. He still had nightmares.

"Of course, and not just rebuild—upgrade," Ethan replied smoothly. 

"The personnel for reconstruction have already been selected. Given the classified nature of this location, most of the agents assisting will be those involved in today's operation. Congratulations, you're on the list."

Agent 0233 paled. "I should've seen that coming…"

"Enough stalling. Are you bombing or disobeying orders?" Ethan's tone sharpened.

Agent 0233 sighed deeply, already regretting every life choice that had brought him here.

"I… I BOMB!" he roared in frustration. 

"Alright, listen up! Fighters, we're dividing into three echelons. First wave—drop napalm bombs! Second wave—white phosphorus! Third wave—fuel-air explosives! We'll do a second run to make sure we didn't miss anything. No mercy! Burn it all!"

A twisted laugh bubbled out of him. "Hahaha! If we're doing this, we're doing it right! Light it up!"