CH: 291 Mouth Cannon

{Chapter: 291 Mouth Cannon}

Loki and Hawkeye, who had already evacuated aboard a stealth aircraft, sat silently in their seats, their eyes glued to the satellite feed playing on the onboard screen.

On the screen, flames still raged over the sea. The once-mighty SHIELD helicarrier had been reduced to burning wreckage, torn in two and swallowed by the ocean. The destruction was complete.

"This maniac actually destroyed the entire aircraft carrier..." Loki muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief, jealousy, and irritation. His fingers clenched tightly into fists. "Something like that should've been done by me. That level of destruction—it should be my name etched into history for such chaos."

He narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, eyes gleaming with ambition. "It was just a flying battleship… a trivial feat for someone like me."

Hawkeye, sitting beside him, remained silent. He knew better than to argue with the self-proclaimed god. Deep down, he thought Loki was exaggerating, boasting again as usual. But after witnessing what William had just done, even Hawkeye had to admit—it was terrifying. Yet, in this moment, Loki was his master, so he chose his words carefully.

Loki turned to him sharply. "Hawkeye, I'm right, aren't I?"

Hawkeye gave a stiff nod. "Of course. With your power, bringing down something like that would be… child's play." He lied through his teeth, but with such a smooth tone that Loki couldn't detect the insincerity.

Loki's lips curled into a satisfied smile. "Hahaha! You're finally learning, Hawkeye." He rose to his feet, spreading his arms wide as if embracing an unseen audience. "Soon, the whole world will witness the might of Loki. They will kneel before me! William, SHIELD, the Avengers… they're all insects in my path! Just wait. The earth will tremble at the sound of my name—Loki, the one true ruler!"

He burst into wild laughter, his voice echoing through the cabin.

---

Ten minutes later, the sea had begun to settle.

The blazing wreckage of the once-proud helicarrier hissed as it sank beneath the waves. Trails of smoke dissipated into the sky, and bits of debris bobbed silently on the surface.

William hovered in the air, watching the aftermath with a casual expression. "I wonder how many of them actually survived…" he muttered, then smirked. "Not that it matters. It's not my concern."

His laughter rang across the open skies as he turned and flew forward. In the distance, Alice, Ada, and the others were piloting their aircraft to retrieve him.

Beneath the calm surface of the water, a body slowly rose and drifted into view—Nick Fury, barely conscious, yet alive.

---

Back on the aircraft, the mood was far from calm.

As William stepped into the cabin, the temperature seemed to drop. No sooner had he crossed the threshold than a furious voice erupted from across the room.

"You lunatic!" Maria screamed, her voice trembling with fury as tears welled in her eyes. Her face, flushed with rage and disbelief, twisted into a mask of heartbreak. "Thousands of lives—burned, crushed, torn apart—and for what? Are you proud of this slaughter? Does this fill that black hole you call a soul?"

William strolled forward with maddening ease, brushing ash from his coat as if it were mere dust. He lowered himself into the seat opposite her with a lazy grace, completely untouched by the carnage he'd wrought.

"Maria… breathe," he said coolly, spreading his arms in mock serenity. "You act like this is something unnatural. Death, chaos, collapse—this is the currency of our world. I just spend it more efficiently. What's a few thousand bodies on the scale of history?"

Her glare darkened like a storm ready to burst.

But William leaned back, a wicked smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Let's not be hypocrites. We Americans have been writing this script for generations—toppling regimes, inciting revolutions, paving our legacy with blood and bones. You all just got used to being the ones holding the pen. Me? I'm just flipping the page. This isn't madness. This is the world... collecting on its overdue bill."

"You're sick," Natasha spat, her voice trembling with barely-contained loathing. "You speak of balance and justice, but all I hear are the ravings of a madman painting genocide with pretty words."

William's eyes gleamed with a dangerous glint, his smirk deepening. "You're not wrong. I am mad... but not blind. Justice doesn't wear white robes and carry scales. Sometimes she wears red, carries a blade, and dances in fire."

Then Alice spoke, her voice soft but firm. "I'm American too, you know. So where does that leave me, William?"

At that, William's entire demeanor shifted. The arrogance melted—not entirely, but enough for a powerful sincerity to emerge. He turned to her, eyes locking onto hers with a gaze that burned through doubt.

"No, Alice," he murmured, his tone dipping into something low and velvety, "you're not just American anymore…"

He leaned in, his eyes burning with intensity, a wicked smile playing at his lips. His fingers traced along her jawline with a touch so tender it sent a shiver through her spine.

"You're mine."

His voice caressed her like silk and sin.

"My woman. My fire. The only heartbeat I care to hear in this noisy world." He tilted her chin up, their faces inches apart, his breath brushing against her lips. "You don't belong to stars and stripes. You belong to me—body, soul, and that stubborn little heart I've already stolen. With me, you're untouchable. You're more than a citizen. You're a queen without borders. My queen."

Alice's breath caught, her lips parting slightly. Emotion warred in her eyes—love, obsession, but also… something deeper. Something drawn to him, despite herself.

William's voice dropped to a tender murmur.

"I don't hate countries. I hate illusions. Yesterday it was Asia. Today the scales fell in the U.S. Tomorrow, who knows? Russia? Europe? Maybe even my own birthplace again. But the cycle spins until the ledger balances. I won't stop until every empire tastes its own medicine."

Alice blinked slowly… then gave the faintest of nods, her voice barely audible. "…When you put it like that…"

"Don't romanticize this!" Hill roared, stepping forward, fists clenched. His whole body trembled with barely contained rage. "You're not justice. You're not fate. You're a butcher wrapped in delusion. You're not saving the world—you're desecrating it!"

William's gaze flicked toward him, his smile turning razor-sharp. "I never claimed to be a savior." He stood, the weight of his presence pressing down like a tidal wave. "I am exactly what you say I am. A villain. A monster. A walking apocalypse. And yet…"

He leaned in close, eyes locked with Hill's, voice dark and smooth as poisoned silk.

"…you still can't stop watching, can you?"

"You disgust me," Hill spat.

William only chuckled. "And yet your hatred... it's delicious." He turned, letting his coat swirl around him like a cloak of shadow. "Go ahead. Curse me. Fight me. Call me the devil if it helps you sleep. But know this—devils don't beg. They take."

Then he cast one last glance at Alice—his eyes warm, possessive, and filled with terrifying promise.

"And I take care of what's mine."

With no warning, he reached out and gently stroked her cheek. The gesture was mocking, filled with disrespect, but also strangely intimate.

Maria Hill recoiled instantly, her eyes flaring with loathing as she jerked her face away. Her wrists were bound tightly, but her spirit remained untamed. "Get your hands off me," she hissed, voice sharp with contempt. "Don't touch me."

Unfazed, William gripped her chin with an iron hand, tilting her face back toward him. His tone was mockingly sweet. "Oh, Maria… don't be so cold. Have you forgotten how close we once were? Those moments we shared—weren't they beautiful?"

Hill's glare sharpened into a blade. "That was before I knew who you really were. If I'd known then, I would've rather die than let you near me."

From across the room, the White Queen let out a melodic laugh. "Deja vu," she said with a smirk. "Isn't that right, Alice? Reminds me of a scene between you and William. Didn't you used to glare at him the same way?"

Alice shrugged, her voice cool and indifferent.

"Ours was worse."

White Queen raised a curious brow. "Worse? And yet… look where you are now. By his side."

Alice gave a knowing smile. "Stranger things will happen. Trust me—this is only the beginning."

William's eyes locked on Hill's again, his gaze now shadowed with something unreadable.

"Tell me, Maria… do you really believe I've been lying to you this entire time?"

Maria didn't blink. "I don't care whether it was a lie or not. Men like you—ruthless tyrants drunk on power—you always pay the price eventually."

William casually picked at his ear, feigning boredom. "That line again? So dramatic the first time. Now, it just sounds tired. You people really need to come up with fresher material."

"Because we know the truth," Natasha snapped, stepping forward. "You will fall. It's only a matter of time."

He gave a theatrical sigh. "More words. Always more words. You know, I used to enjoy your little speeches. Now they feel like reruns. Statistically speaking, there are 6.8 billion people who want me dead."

"Correction," Natasha said icily. "Try 7 billion—everyone, except you."

He laughed, tilting his head playfully.

"No, no. It's 6.8 billion. You have to account for newborns and the mentally unwell. Do you think babies lie awake thinking about me? Come on, be realistic."

He widened his eyes in mock fear.

"Still… 6.8 billion. That's a lot. So scary. I might just start trembling."

Maria clenched her teeth so hard her lip cracked, blood welling at the corner.

William's voice dropped, heavy with disdain.

"Everyone talks tough until the time comes to act. If words could kill, I'd be dead a thousand times over. But sadly for you—"

He smirked, eyes gleaming like a predator.

"—they don't. If you want to end me, you'll need power. Real power. Do you have it?"

Hill and Natasha turned away, their silence louder than any insult. They had nothing to say—because deep down, they knew he was right.

William leaned back lazily, savoring the silence.

"What's wrong? No more clever comebacks? Don't tell me you've finally run out of verbal ammo."

He gave a mock gasp. "How tragic."

"William, you're impossible," White Queen called out with a dramatic flair. "You're bullying them so badly I almost feel sorry for them!"

William raised his hands in mock innocence.

"Hey, I'm just trying to teach them a valuable life lesson: words are cheap. Power is everything."

"That's not teaching. That's pure bullying," White Queen retorted, grinning.

"Fine. Call it bullying if you want," William said with a chuckle. "But bullying only works if you have the strength to back it up. Without it, these two would've torn me apart by now."

"Even with all your power," Ada chimed in with a smirk, "they probably still think you're a bastard."

"Agreed," White Queen added, raising her hand with mock solemnity.

William turned to Maria and Natasha, his voice dropping to a purr. "Is that true, ladies? Do you despise me that much?"

They didn't even look at him. They simply snorted, turning their backs in silent protest.

William leaned back, smiling to himself.

"I'll take that as a yes."

******

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