Marvelous Martial Arts (A Marvel Story)

Mason had not completely disappeared from the radar after he left New York. Disappearing for six months after publicly attacking Fisk Tower would have sent his family into a panic, he imagined.

Although Kamar-Taj was hidden, they still had access to the Internet and satellite coverage, so Mason had been regularly giving news to make sure they knew he did not go and die in a ditch, or some extra-dimensional prison.

But those exchanges had remained rather sparse because Mason had been busy, and he imagined his family had been just as busy. Besides, while on his journey, Mason had gone off the grid, mainly because he wanted to do so, but also because carrying a phone would have been impossible. Moreover, Mason’s personal phone had been left in New York; he had been using borrowed ones while he was in Kamar-Taj already. Had he been shameless enough to take one with him, it would not have quite survived his journey. As a result, Mason sent the occasional text from phones he could borrow on the way, but there was not much on the side of conversation.

So Mason missed his family, which was why he decided to surprise them.

Patting his Haori, Mason knocked on the door with a shit-eating grin. The muffled voices inside, which his enhanced senses easily picked up on, stopped, and a set of footsteps approached the door.

Mason’s father opened the door. Eric Tunt looked the same as he did half a year ago, perhaps having put on a little weight. But he looked healthy.

The surprise Mason expected to see on his father’s face was nowhere to be seen, however. Instead, he looked at Mason up and down, and commented dryly, ”Do you ever change?”

Mason blinked, his brain short-circuiting for a brief moment, before he self-righteously clapped back, ”I’ll have you know I had Sorcerer enchant my clothes so they would clean themselves.”

That was true. Most Magical Artefacts required to be activated by their wielders, because they could only express their power through the activation of Magic. However, it was also possible to create ‘passive’ enchantments.

They were rare because they could only possess a fraction of the power of one that could be activated, and for a Sorcerer, it required virtually no effort or concentration to activate most magical artefacts, so no one really bothered to make these passive artefacts. Not to mention this ensured no one uninitiated would get their hands on magical artefacts they could use.

Yao made an exception for Mason, though, and enchanted his clothes to clean themselves and repair over time. So Mason always wore his martial arts clothes, those he had decided would become his ‘hero’ costume.

The father and son stared at each other, and after a moment of still silence, Mason extended his Divine Sense inside the house and found a third presence inside, apart from his parents. One that belonged to neither of his parents, but was still familiar.

Mason’s face darkened as he stepped past his father, calling out before he even got to the living room, ”You bald menace, were you the one to ruin my surprise?”

In his parents’ living room, his mother was currently drinking tea with the one and only Nick Fury. The Director of SHIELD was dressed in his usual SHIELD uniform, covered by his long, black trench coat.

The man slowly brought his cup to his lips, taking a long sip before sighing, ”Your tea is excellent, Ms. Tunt. You would think this kind of tea would have allowed your son to reach a Zen state years ago.”

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Camille, Mason’s own mother, ignored her son as she slowly sipped her own tea, replying with a sigh, ”He was never the smartest in the family. But it was only recently that he developed this habit of smashing his head through problems.”

Mason’s father joined them, taking his seat and sipping his own cup, adding, ”He broke a new record. The old one was 6 days he spent without changing clothes, when he was 15. He destroyed it this time, not changing for over six months. Truly a boy at heart.”

Mason stared at the three before grabbing the hot kettle with his bare hands, taking a sip of the boiling water as he replied, ”Well, I killed a demon billions of years old, dismantled a ninja clan over a thousand years old, and saved millions of people. Possibly billions. Pretty good for a boy.”

Fury hummed thoughtfully, ”And we received complaints from 47 different countries deeming you a terrorist.”

”Bah, dictatorships. Only they would call someone a terrorist for offering their people a chance at life. They should consider themselves lucky I’m not self-righteous enough to overthrow them.”

”Offer a chance at life, or induct them into your cult?”

Even Mason had the presence of mind to grow at least a little embarrassed at the mention of his ‘cult’, and he defended himself, ”Hey, it’s not my fault these people turned me into a god. The circumstances are at fault.”

His mother snorted, ”Who could have guessed things would turn this way? Certainly not my thick-headed son.”

Mason shrunk his shoulders, feeling both indignant and embarrassed. He truly had not meant for it to happen. But with hindsight, he had to admit that maybe he should have expected it.

Mason did behave somewhat like a messiah, even though he did not mean to. In his journey, he not only taught thousands of people to stand up for themselves and offer them the possibility of superhuman power, but he also healed the ill and the injured. He did not go as far as curing blindness or regrowing limbs, because he could not, but he did cure an incurable disease or two.

That alone, placed in a vacuum, would have probably resulted in some following of sorts, considering he did it in rural and poor regions. But the fact that so many gods had popped out of nowhere following Mason’s actions, it led to some people believing Mason was a god too. And one that was far more involved than the others. That, and the fact that martial artists everywhere called him the Honored One.

The beliefs varied because there was no one to structure them, since Mason wanted nothing to do with that religion, so some thought of him as a newly-born Buddha, the second coming of Christ, the incarnation of just about any other god, or a god of the modern age.

The religion, because Mason thought that was a better word than cult, remained sporadic as far as he knew, being dispersed around the globe, around the places he visited, so it remained contained for the moment, although they did show a tendency to group up. As he often did with problems he did not want to deal with, Mason ignored it and hoped it would go away on its own.

Thinking of that reminded Mason of Audrey, and since he did not have much of an explanation for his religion, he changed the subject, asking, ”By the way, where are Elena and Audrey? It’s Sunday, shouldn’t they be home?”

His mother offered him a teasing smile. ”So smooth, we’d almost forget what we were talking about. But you’re right, this is a good subject too. You’d know where they were if you had bothered to at least call in the past five months. Sending a text a month and leaving that phone behind does not quite work for earnest communication, does it?”

Mason gave her a look, unconsciously snorting in the exact same manner she had just before. ”I would offer to flog you, but it wouldn’t do anything. That’s why I happen to have responsibilities.”

Fury interrupted calmly, calling him out, ”I’ve had people following you. You admitted on several occasions that the way to advance in what you call the Foundation Establishment Realm was to embody your Dao. That of the Sun, in your case. So your journey was a self-serving one, not one born out of responsibilities.”

Mason swiveled to him, raising a finger. ”Well, first, you glaring piece of furniture, this is a family matter, and I still don’t know what you are doing in my home. Secondly, low blow to try to use my teachings against me. Third, it’s even worse when you are wrong. Do tell if you need me to teach, I quite liked Bobbi and Steve. But to correct you, you can’t fake your Dao. My sense of responsibility and generosity are what forged my Dao, so responsibility and self-service are not mutually exclusive in this case.”

Fury stared at him with his single eye, patiently sipping his tea as he replied, ”Your psych evaluation does mention your savior complex. Most probably originating from being born in a family of overachievers.” he turned to look at his parents, tipping his head. ”Those evaluations are mandatory, but I’m sure minds as pragmatic as yours understand that.”

His father watched him carefully, replying, ”Understanding it does not mean liking it. But enough banter, why don’t we get to the subject at hand?”

Mason put down the kettle, and Fury gestured for his parents to speak. Camille looked at Mason and explained briefly, ”To answer your earlier questions, Director Fury is here for you, and your sisters moved away in the past few months. You three are the subject at hand.”

Ah, that did not sound good, Mason thought.