MASTER OF MARVEL WORLD

Nate Locke didn't know much about Violet. In the original animated series, Violet's story as a young woman was the stuff of legend—her captivating beauty and raw, unfiltered emotions left audiences breathless. But when it came to Violet as a child, the only information Nate had been able to gather was from online encyclopedias and outdated reference sites. All he knew was that, despite her extraordinary combat abilities and her ruthless efficiency—almost mechanical in her execution of commands—she had long been used as nothing more than a weapon. And that, in itself, sparked an uncontrollable anger within him.

"Even if she's a weapon," Nate thought aloud as he gently removed the tattered rags that barely passed as clothing, "don't these people know how to care for their prized assets?" His voice trembled with restrained fury. Underneath those ragged layers, he could see a body scarred by countless battles: deep knife wounds, bruises, even bullet holes were visible on her milky skin. The wounds were festooned with dirt and mud, and fresh blood still oozed from several cuts. Without her incredible resilience, a bacterial infection would have claimed her life long ago. But it was clear—the group responsible didn't want her to survive the battlefield. They intended her to die, not only to use her as a lethal instrument but also because they feared what she might become if she lived.

"Can you… speak?" Nate gently asked while meticulously cleaning her wounds with warm water and a soft towel. His hands moved with careful precision, every action laden with empathy and determination. For a long, silent moment, Violet—whom Nate had already decided to call by that name—stared at him with huge, expressive blue eyes. There was no audible response at first, just the soft murmur of running water and the quiet hum of the high-tech equipment in Tony Stark's villa. Then, as if driven by an inexplicable force, she slowly opened her mouth and uttered a single word: "Master."

Nate's breath caught. It was the first time he had ever heard her speak. The simple word, spoken with such calm clarity, sent ripples of both relief and awe through him. "What else would you say?" he coaxed softly, his tone both encouraging and tender. He continued cleaning, his movements even softer now. "What about your name, Violet? Come on, speak to me."

Again, the only word she managed was a quiet repetition of "Master." Nate's heart pounded in his chest. "No, that's not enough. Just follow me, Violet," he urged, as he tried to instill in her a sense of identity beyond mere obedience. For over an hour, Nate carefully tended to her, washing away the grime and bandaging her wounds. Finally, when he stepped back, he was met with the sight of a young girl wrapped snugly in a bath towel. Her once-disheveled blond hair now lay straight and smooth like silk, and despite the scars and bruises that marred her otherwise milky skin, a radiant, healthy glow shone through. Her sapphire eyes, still bright and clear, held a mix of vulnerability and defiant strength that was simply irresistible.

"You must be hungry," Nate murmured with a soft smile. He dashed to the refrigerator and retrieved a slice of strawberry cake—a simple indulgence amid the chaos of their lives—and handed it to Violet. As if drawn by instinct, her delicate nose twitched, and she extended tiny fingers to grasp the treat. The moment was delicate and heartwarming: she took a small bite, and her eyes widened as she tasted something she'd likely never experienced before. Satisfied, she buried her face in the cake, swallowing eagerly.

"Eat slowly…" Nate coaxed, stroking her back with a mix of pity and amusement. At times, he wondered if he was raising a child or simply caring for a precious pet. Either way, the responsibility was his to bear—and he would protect her with everything he had.

After tending to Violet, Nate helped her settle into a clean set of sheets on a bed, ensuring she was comfortable. Then, he turned his attention to his personal business. He called out to Jarvis, Tony Stark's ever-reliable AI, asking for access to the Internet so he could search for potential funding. Despite the system's ability to generate a modest income from low-level summons, it was far from enough for the ambitions Nate harbored. Buying a new base, upgrading his powers, and even investing in future endeavors all required serious capital.

Nate scrolled through the latest headlines. He found that this was the same world as the Marvel movie universe—the one where the Avengers once stood tall, where Spider-Man had not yet fully emerged, and where Dr. Lizard was just beginning to make his mark. There was no sign of Osborne Industries, and the major players of the past were either missing or in the process of transformation. But one thing was clear: without some form of violent intervention against the rising tide of criminal elements—and with Quinn Maxwell's methods being notoriously unpredictable—the only source of money lay in S.H.I.E.L.D. remuneration.

Before Nate could continue, he was startled by a familiar voice behind him. "Hey, Nate, what's taking so long?" Turning around, he discovered that not only was Quinn Maxwell present, but Agent Colson had also joined them in the room. Colson's eyes were twinkling with a mixture of mischief and genuine curiosity.

"When did you get here?" Nate asked, slightly taken aback. Colson replied casually, "I've been here a while. I figured you were too busy admiring your new little charge to notice." His eyes then fell on the virtual light screen displaying various children's educational books, training manuals, and even bear puppets—a collection of odd items that he couldn't help but comment on. "Mr. Locke, is this your daughter?" he teased.

"Uh, no," Nate replied quickly, shutting down the online shopping site with a frown of discomfort. He then explained the identities of Violet and the two rare ritual summons that had appeared. He wiped away stray crumbs from Violet's face with a napkin and then, with a conspiratorial smile, leaned in. "You know, S.H.I.E.L.D. has been buzzing about this 'remuneration' opportunity. They say if you help out with a few tasks—say, investigating some leads on Hydra and even rescuing a few critical assets—they'll pay handsomely. But I can't say too much; the future is never set in stone."

Colson's eyes widened as he took in the warm, almost domestic scene before him. "Honestly, I was beginning to wonder if you were raising a child or a pet," he said with a laugh, "but look at her—she's like a diamond in the rough." He then added with a more serious tone, "Actually, I'm here because our chief has been desperate. We're severely short on reliable manpower, and we've just received a clue about Hydra that we must check out. And yes, we're prepared to pay handsomely for your assistance."

Nate's interest was piqued. "Reward?" he echoed, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "I have to say, a reward that can truly impress me isn't exactly pocket change."

Colson reached into his bag and pulled out a tablet. He handed it over to Nate. On the screen was a photo of an elderly Chinese businessman—a prominent figure from Chinatown—along with detailed financial information. "This is a wealthy entrepreneur who recently passed away from a terminal illness," Colson explained. "He left behind a vast fortune—between three and four billion dollars—to be inherited by his family in China. It turns out this was a hidden legacy reserved by S.H.I.E.L.D. for internal personnel. They want you, Mr. Locke, to establish a branch of S.H.I.E.L.D. here. In exchange, you'd get a significant piece of this property."

Nate studied the tablet, his mind racing with possibilities. He knew this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. "Your chief is really pushing this, isn't he?" Nate remarked, handing the tablet back with a measured nod. "Tell me more about it. What exactly is it that they're offering?"

Colson smiled knowingly. "It's not just money, Nate. It's an entire establishment—a chance to run a branch of S.H.I.E.L.D. in this part of the world. With that kind of funding, you could upgrade your gear, expand your operations, and, if you choose, even recruit more followers. The future is in flux, and this could be your stepping stone to solidifying your place in it."

Nate's gaze drifted to Violet, who now lay peacefully on the bed after a thorough cleaning. The sight of her frail yet resilient form stirred something deep within him—a fierce determination not only to protect her but to nurture the potential that lay hidden beneath her scars. "I appreciate the offer," he murmured, "but I need to ensure that everyone under my care is safe. If these summoned followers—no matter how powerful—are left untended, it could spell disaster on the battlefield."

Tony Stark's booming voice echoed in the background as he entered the room, having finished a call with one of his top executives. "Locke, Potts, Colson, I trust you're all aware of the situation with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s new proposal," Tony said with a mix of businesslike authority and casual charm. "I'm not planning on leaving my lab any time soon, so I'm relying on you all to sort out these details."

Pepper Potts, ever the voice of reason amidst chaos, looked at Nate with soft concern. "Nate, I know you've got a lot on your plate, but if you're going to take on a branch of S.H.I.E.L.D. here, you need to be sure you can support these… children, these assets," she said, referring to Violet and the other summoned rituals. "They're not just tools—they're lives, and they deserve proper care."

Nate nodded solemnly. "I understand, Pepper. That's why I'm considering every option carefully. This isn't just about power or money—it's about responsibility. And if I'm going to lead in this chaotic world, I must ensure that every asset, every summoned soul, is treated as a person, not merely a weapon."

As discussions continued, the room buzzed with ideas and cautious optimism. Colson outlined potential strategies for integrating the new S.H.I.E.L.D. branch, emphasizing that the funds from the wealthy entrepreneur could serve as a foundation for further expansion. Tony, always quick with a quip even in serious moments, added, "And if it means I get to keep my title as the genius billionaire Iron Man, then count me in."

The conversation turned to the practicalities of it all. Nate began mapping out his next steps on a holographic interface, his mind a whirlwind of tactical and logistical details. He knew that, despite the allure of wealth and power, the true challenge lay in the responsibility of nurturing those under his command—ensuring that Violet, and any future summoned allies, would no longer be seen merely as weapons to be discarded after a single use.

In the quiet moments that followed, as the team discussed the future of this new S.H.I.E.L.D. branch, Nate stole a moment to gaze at Violet's peaceful face. "Vi—Violet," he whispered softly, "your name now means more than just a label. It means hope, redemption, and the promise of a future where you're valued not as a tool of war, but as a living, breathing human being." Her calm, unwavering gaze met his, and for a fleeting moment, the weight of the world seemed a little lighter.

Pepper, watching the tender exchange, couldn't help but smile. "Behind every great man, there truly is an excellent woman—and sometimes, that greatness extends to the smallest among us," she said warmly.

As the meeting wound down, Colson summarized the next phase: "We need to secure the funding, integrate our new assets, and prepare for any fallout from Hydra's continuing machinations. Our chief insists that we act swiftly—but carefully." His tone was measured, aware that every decision made now would ripple through the future.

Nate closed his eyes for a moment, absorbing the magnitude of the decision before him. In this turbulent world—where advanced mecha battles, secret summoning systems, and ancient relics intertwined with the corporate power struggles of Stark Industries—the line between hero and liability was razor-thin. "S.H.I.E.L.D. remuneration isn't just a paycheck—it's an opportunity to reshape our destiny," he thought, determination burning in his eyes.

When he finally opened his eyes, they were filled with steely resolve. "I'll do it," he declared. "I'll accept the offer—but on my terms. Every asset, every life, every follower under my command will be protected and cherished. We won't let this world treat us like disposable tools. We will build something better—a future where even the most broken can be made whole."

And so, amidst the hum of high-tech equipment and the quiet murmur of strategic planning, Nate Locke took his first step toward a new chapter in his journey—a chapter that promised not only power and wealth but also the responsibility to nurture and transform the lives entrusted to him. In a world of chaos and uncertainty, S.H.I.E.L.D. remuneration offered not just monetary reward, but the chance to leave a lasting legacy—a legacy built on care, compassion, and the unyielding pursuit of justice.