{Chapter: 32 - Beating Up Johnny}
"You better stop, or I'll be forced to fight back!"
Aiden's voice was calm, almost bored, as he sidestepped a blazing streak of flame that seared across the air, scorching the concrete behind him.
Across from him, the air lit up with fiery contrails as Johnny Storm—The Human Torch—hovered, burning like a miniature sun. His flames roared around him like a living creature, licking the air with fury and heat. His eyes narrowed, full of hot-headed pride and untamed energy.
"If you've got any guts," Johnny barked down, voice dripping with mockery, "then stop running like a coward! You said you can control fire—then stop dodging and prove it! C'mon! Let's see what you've got!"
He flung another inferno at Aiden with a flick of his hand. The explosion blasted outward, sending chunks of rubble flying. Smoke and ash flooded the air.
Aiden paused. He could've dodged again. He could've easily avoided it.
But instead… he let it hit him.
The blast struck squarely on his chest, flames washing over his shirt, igniting it instantly. The force sent him flying backward with theatrical exaggeration. He crashed against a wall, leaving a crater behind. He slowly rose from the debris, brushing ashes off his burning chest as the remnants of his shirt disintegrated.
His expression had shifted.
No more disinterest. No more restraint.
Just focus.
"You've forced my hand." His voice dropped an octave, filled with weight.
"You want to dance with fire?" Johnny growled. "Let's dance."
But the heat in the air shifted. The flames Johnny had conjured began to slow… then hover… then pause mid-air, frozen in motion like someone had hit the pause button on reality.
Johnny blinked. "Wait—what the hell?"
Aiden raised his hand, palm wide open.
The flames, once furious and wild, suddenly twisted like a serpent responding to a master's call. They coiled and reversed, sucked into Aiden's outstretched hand like metal to a magnet. The fire condensed into a tight, molten orb, glowing like a tiny sun trapped in his grasp. The reddish-orange light bathed his face in an eerie glow.
His eyes shimmered—deep, ancient, like molten rock under pressure.
"Impressive," Aiden said, watching the flame swirl in his grasp. "Your fire's purer than Pyro's. Hotter you can manipulate its heat. More refined."
Johnny floated backward slightly, unease creeping across his expression. "How… how the hell are you doing that?"
Aiden curled his fingers.
The flame vanished.
"It seems your fire likes me more than it likes you."
That was the final straw. Johnny yelled and charged, his fist wreathed in flame, trailing like a comet as he punched with all his might. But Aiden sidestepped with practiced ease, ducking low, and drove his elbow into Johnny's rib cage.
CRASH!
Johnny flew through the wall like a wrecking ball, plowing into the next suite over. Concrete cracked. Smoke billowed.
Johnny groaned, dragging himself out of the rubble. His lip was bleeding, his cheek scorched.
"You've got no idea who you're messing with!" he barked, flame flaring around him again, but this time there was a crack in his voice—like doubt creeping through the bravado.
Aiden stepped through the dust and broken drywall like a shadow. "Oh, I think I do."
He tilted his head. "But you don't."
Without warning, Aiden vanished—blurring forward at superhuman speed. Before Johnny could react, Aiden seized his wrist mid-flame.
Johnny's jaw dropped. "You're touching me? In this form?!"
He flared up desperately, body igniting to full flame, hoping to scorch Aiden off him—but it backfired instantly. The inferno warped in the air, spiraled… and bent.
It was his flame—but now Aiden was controlling it.
Aiden twisted his wrist, and Johnny's own fire curved back toward him like a betrayed lover. It slammed into Johnny's chest, sending him flying once more.
"Oooh," Aiden said mockingly. "You never learn, do you?"
Johnny crashed into the pavement with a heavy thud. As he groaned and tried to rise, Aiden walked toward him slowly, like a predator savoring the kill.
He grabbed Johnny's arm and slammed him into the ground like a ragdoll. Then again. And again. Craters formed where Johnny's body hit.
And then came the punches.
While on the ground Johnny saw Aiden's hand glowing an reddish orange color and then repeatedly punching him on the face. Aiden punched Johnny almost a dozen times making his face swollen like a hippo—ruthless, heavy, and merciless.
When he finally paused, Johnny's face was swollen and bloodied, lip torn, black eye, his flame sputtering weakly around him like a dying candle.
"How… how is this possible…?" Johnny choked out. "You're not just immune—you're controlling it… no, this… it's not possible…"
Aiden crouched next to him, voice low and dangerous.
"I told you… but you were too arrogant to listen."
His palm touched Johnny's chest, and suddenly the heat… vanished.
Johnny felt it. Like something inside him being pulled—no, devoured. The fire within him was being unraveled.
"W-What are you doing?" he gasped.
"Taking back what you don't deserve," Aiden said, eyes gleaming like a volcanic god.
"Now… bear the consequences of your ignorance." With that, Aiden delivered a powerful punch and Johnny's world faded into darkness, consumed by the same fire he once believed made him untouchable.
'Johnny, oh Johnny… your arrogance and impulsiveness would have gotten you killed someday. One day, you'll thank me for this painful lesson.'
Aiden's voice was low but firm as he stared down at the fiery young hero, who now lay battered and motionless on the cold floor of the hotel suite. Johnny Storm—also known as the Human Torch—was barely recognizable. His face was swollen, his flames extinguished, and the once-boastful gleam in his eyes reduced to nothing more than unconscious silence.
The room smelled of smoke and scorched fabric. Shattered glass littered the floor from the window Johnny had burst through earlier. Curtains flapped in the wind, and the once-luxurious lounge was now nothing more than a battlefield.
Then, from the shattered window came a familiar sound—a soft thwip, followed by the swift whoosh of wind.
"Johnny! Stop this madness—this is really a misunderstanding!" a voice called out, echoing through the suite.
Spider-Man landed gracefully on the splintered windowsill, only to come face to face with a scene that made his heart sink.
"What the hell…?"
There stood Aiden, calm and composed, hand still resting on Johnny's chest. And beneath him, Johnny Storm, the proud and ever-energetic hero of the Fantastic Four, lay bruised and defeated, barely conscious—if at all. The fiery aura that once cloaked his body was gone, replaced by painful silence and shallow breaths.
"You're too late, kid…" Aiden muttered, straightening his posture and finally removing his hand from Johnny's chest.
Spider-Man leaped forward, crouching protectively near Johnny. "What did you do to him?" His voice was tight with tension and worry.
Aiden didn't reply immediately. He stepped back, picking up the wine glass he'd set aside earlier, took a sip, and turned his gaze toward the broken skyline outside. "What I did, Peter… was to spare him."
Spidey flinched. He hadn't told Aiden his real name.
"I didn't kill him. I didn't cripple him. Hell, I didn't even burn him. All I did was suppress his powers for a while—let the fire in him simmer down so that maybe, just maybe, his brain could catch up to his mouth."
Spider-Man hesitated. When he'd first called Johnny and informed him of Susan's abduction, he was desperate for help. But shortly after, he'd contacted SHIELD to check on Aiden's identity—and was stunned to discover that the man was, in fact, a newly recruited consultant with top-level clearance.
Aiden wasn't an enemy of SHIELD, nor a wanted criminal. If anything, he was one of them. And yet here he was, standing over the limp body of the Human Torch, having just taught him the fight of his life.
"First his sister, then you, then this flaming idiot…" Aiden's voice trembled with irritation. "Do you people think I'm some kind of punching bag just because I don't wear a cape or parade around in tights?"
Spider-Man didn't have an answer for that. Looking at Johnny, who was groaning faintly now, his face as swollen as a ripe fruit, Peter couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt.
"Honestly, I'm not even mad at you," Aiden continued, swirling the wine in his glass before finishing it off. "You followed your instincts. That's what heroes do. But you didn't ask why I took Susan. You didn't question what she was doing when I found her." His voice dropped lower. "I saved her from something. And all I got was fireballs and fists."
Spider-Man remained silent for a moment, then slowly stood. "I've contacted SHIELD. They're on their way. Whatever's happening… we'll get to the bottom of it. Together."
Aiden nodded, his gaze sharp and unreadable. "Good. Let them come. I'd love to have a word with Fury."
As if summoned by the very mention of his name, a deep, mechanical rumble shook the room. Outside, the clouds parted as a massive SHIELD aircraft carrier descended through the sky, casting a vast shadow over the city. Its turbines roared like thunder. The very air seemed to tremble with its arrival.
Suddenly, the side of the carrier opened, and from it leapt several figures in rapid succession—straight through the broken window with deadly precision.
The first was a tall, commanding black man in a long black trench coat. His cold stare pierced through the room despite the black eye patch covering his left eye. He didn't need to speak to be recognized.
"Nick Fury," Aiden said quietly, narrowing his eyes.
Right behind him landed a red-haired woman, lithe and graceful in her black tactical suit, her every movement exuding confidence and lethal precision. Her emerald eyes swept over the room like a hawk assessing prey.
"Black Widow," Aiden murmured, nodding slightly in acknowledgment.
Then came the final figure—a man wearing a blue uniform with red and white stripes, and a shining vibranium shield strapped to his back. He stood tall, like a sentinel from a bygone era, radiating authority and strength.
"Captain America," Aiden said, a wry smile playing on his lips. "So the whole gang's here."
The tension in the room grew thicker. Spider-Man instinctively moved away from Aiden, not because he feared him—but because he feared what might happen next.
'SHIELD Director Nick Fury, Member of Avengers Black Widow Natasha, and their spiritual leader Captain America Steve Rogers!' Aiden looked at the three of them one by one and said: "If you want to fight me, this still won't be enough now!"