Author's Note: I have been working on this for a while and I am still not satisfied with this work, but I wanted to get it published and done with before the movie came out. This is probably going to be a little bit choppy and plain. I am additionally not the best at editing. I hope someone enjoys it though.

Additionally, this has no Endgame spoilers. I have not seen the movie and this is only a theory/headcannon of what I would like to have happen which partially based off the trailers.


Gibel

Definition (Russian): (n) not death, not suicide, but simply ceasing to exist; deteriorating in a way that is painful for others; death, destruction, ruin


A Spaceship Over New York City!

Attack On Greenwich Village!

Iron Man and Spiderman Spotted In Battle!

Iron Man Missing In Action!

Tony Stark Missing!

Where Is Tony Stark?

Harley stared at the news headlines. The Mechanic was missing. Tony was missing. Harley glanced down at his phone. No new messages. No news. Nothing.

He couldn't believe this was happening. He had spoken to Tony just a few days ago. The last few months had been hectic between his senior year and Tony being busy with work and planning his wedding to Pepper. The phone call had been a welcome distraction for both of them. Tony had invited him to spend the summer working an internship at Stark Industries before he went off to college saying he had someone he wanted him to meet as well. Harley had in turn informed him of his high school graduation date so Tony could come if he could make it. Everything had seemed to be going so well.

Harley shook his head, worrying wouldn't do him any good. Rhodey and FRIDAY were probably working on finding Tony at this very moment. Harley turned back to his project. He needed to get to work. Working on one of his projects almost always helped him relax.

Time blended into a blur a Harley worked. Eventually, Harley sighed and set his tools down. He couldn't help but feel uneasy. Something felt… off. Something felt… wrong. A tingle ran up his spine and an odd feeling in his chest settled.

"Harley!"

Harley's head snapped up at the sound of his sister's shriek. He stood up quickly, his chair crashing to the floor.

"Mercedes," he called out, a note of panic in his voice.

"Harley!"

There was the sound of running towards his garage followed by a skidding stop and the slam of the door being thrown open. Mercedes rushed in, out of breath.

"Harley...Mom...she...she," Mercedes stuttered out, pale and grasping for something to hold on.

"Mercedes, what's wrong? What happened to Mom," asked Harley, the odd feeling in his chest sinking down to settle over his whole body.

Mercedes just shook her head and muttered out something incomprehensible. A feeling of dread washing over him, Harley rushed out of his garage and ran towards the house. Throwing the door open, Harley began searching the house.

"Mom! Mom!"

Harley searched room by room frantically for his mom. There was nothing, no one. No sign of an intrusion or a struggle. No signs of something wrong. Harley eventually looped back to the kitchen and back door where Mercedes was walking in, gaze turned downwards.

"Where is she," asked Harley.

Mercedes's gaze shifted to the corner of the kitchen near the cupboards and breakfast bar. Harley followed her gaze and saw a pile of dirt or dust of some sort on the floor with some of it spread on top of the counter.

"What the hell," muttered Harley.

He walked over and swept his finger over the dirt. The texture was… odd. The material didn't feel like dirt but more akin to dust or ashes or silt. Mom would never let something like this into any part of the house, much less the kitchen. She took pride in keeping the kitchen pristine. The one place in the house that was always clean.

"Mercedes, what is this," asked Harley.

"Mom," Mercedes offered as an explanation simply, her shoulders trembling.

Harley stared at her in disbelief before looking back at the pile and the counter. The realization hit him like a brick. A wave of nausea rolled over him and he pulled away quickly, stumbling away. Horrified, he looked at the dust on his hands and frantically tried to wiped it off.

"What the fu-"


Harley shut the door to the old Chevy truck as he slid into the driver's seat. Mercedes followed in suit, shutting the passenger door behind her. Starting up the engine, he told his sister, "Seatbelt." Mercedes nodded mechanically and buckled up.

"Where are we going?"

"Town."


Eyes trained on the road, everything seemed to blend together to Harley. What was happening? He had heard of some weird stuff from Tony, and seen some too, but this? People turning to dust - ashes. This... this was something else. Tightening his grip on the wheel, he tried to focus.

"Harley, stop. It's Michael," instructed Mercedes, pointing up ahead the road to the side.

Harley snapped out of his head to look up ahead and saw their seven year old neighbor standing by the side of the rode, his bike at his feet. Harley slowed down and came to stop. Rolling the window down, he addressed their neighbor.

"Michael, what's wrong?"

Michael looked up and for the first time Harley noticed the tears on his face.

"Michael?"

"Oh God," Mercedes uttered. She was looking to the side of the road. A second bike, a dark red one meant for someone older than Michael, and a pile of ash around it. Mercedes leaned over to the driver's side.

"Michael, where's Katherine," asked Mercedes, referring to his older sister.

Michael simply pointed to the red bike. Harley and Mercedes shared a look. Mercedes unbuckled and got out of the car. Walking to Michael, she grabbed his shoulders and guided him to the car. Michael got in, sitting down on the middle seat, and buckled up. Mercedes got in and shut the door.

Silence filled the car as they continued to drive. After a while, Michael spoke up.

"What happened to my sister," asked Michael.

"I don't know," said Harley.

"Are my parents okay," asked Michael.

"I don't know," repeated Harley.


The drive continued. Along the way, the Keeners and Michael came across others. Some were children who were out playing when it happened and confused as to why they couldn't find their families. Others were children who had wandered out, looking for help. Finally, some were parents looking for their children.

Harley glanced back as they drove into town. They had picked up more passengers on the way into town. The group consisted of kids looking for their parents and had no one to help them or one of their parents were at work still, hopefully not gone as well. The only exception was Jane, a college student who had been helping to care for her grandmother until she turned to dust, who volunteered to help keep an eye on everyone after.

Harley then glanced to his sister. Mercedes was gripping onto the material of her jeans, knuckles white. Her lips formed a thin straight line and her eyes were red and puffy. Harley swallowed hard and turned his attention back to the roads. Only a little while longer until they reached town and maybe some answers.


The noise was both overwhelming and too quiet. The quiet a reminder of what was gone and the noise a reminder of the same thing. Crying. There was so much crying.

Absentmindedly, Harley took a sip of his coffee. Next to him, Mercedes gripped her cup to her chest but had barely touched it. Harley lifted his gaze and surveyed the room.

The near entirety of the town was gathered within the local high school, a majority located in the gym. The place looked liked an evacuation center. In a way, it was. Everyone had gathered here for news, to search for family and friends. Sleeping bags and cots were already set up but few were being used. It was too tense. No one could sleep while waiting for news, any news.

"What is going on Harley," asked Mercedes.

"I don't know," responded Harley.

"Harley, they are saying possibly a fourth of the population is gone. Others are estimating upwards of half of the population," said Mercedes, still shocked.

"I know."

The prospect of whatever did this being able to wipe out half of the population was horrifying. What else were they capable of doing?

"Did Tony ever mention something this could do this? Did he ever talk about something like this," Mercedes asked, looking at him desperately.

"No," said Harley, his chest feeling hollow. Was Tony ash now too?

"Is there anyone you could call," questioned Mercedes, grasping for straws. "Maybe someone who works for or with Tony might know. There are rumors of a fight in Wakanda, that the former Avengers and Colonel Rhodes were involved. They could know."

Harley froze. He hadn't even thought about calling someone. Setting his coffee down, Harley reached into his pocket and drew out his phone. Looking through his contacts, his finger hovered in uncertainty over the numbers. He had Pepper's, Rhodey's, Happy's, and Tony's. Would they answer? Were they even still...alive? Harley steeled himself, drawing in a deep breath, and hit Pepper's number, waiting as the tone rang.


Stones. A Mad Titan. The Snap. A Decimation. Harley stated at his phone in disbelief. What the fu-


Weeks had passed. The numbers kept climbing. No longer was this a nightmare you could just wake up from. Half of the population was gone - and then some. The amount of accidents caused by people disappearing was monumental. From the car crashes to plane crashes, so many were killed both directly and indirectly by the decimation. The Decimation, that was what they were calling it. Half of all life - all organic life - was gone.

The world had dissolved into chaos. Everyone was running around lost. There was not a single person who hadn't lost someone. Children had lost parents. Parents had lost children. Spouses had lost spouses and significant others had lost significant others. Friends had lost friends. So many were gone.

Harley took a breath. Nothing was being done. Nothing. Half the population was gone and nothing was being done. Something had to be done.

Harley's hands hovered over the screen. Tony said this was for emergencies only and Harley hoped it was what he thought it was. Otherwise, this would take longer than Harley had anticipated if he had to start from scratch. Harley took a breath and clicked the screen.

FILE?

Harley typed quickly:

N.A.T.H.A.N.I.E.L

Pause.

PASSCODE

ROSE-12-DAVIS-23-DORA-12

Pause. Harley held his breath.

ACCESS GRANTED

The file blinked to life across the monitors in front of him. Displayed were blueprints, dozens of blueprints, with calculations, measurements, and notes accompanying. Harley nearly grinned. He was right.

"Hello Harley Keener," a male synthetic voice sounded out.

"What the hell," exclaimed Harley, nearly jumping out of his seat. Harley looked around wildly before realizing the voice had come from the computer.

"Who said that? Who has access to this," demanded Harley.

"I am NATHANIEL. An Artificial Intelligence designed by Tony Stark to assist you, Harley Keener."

"An AI," asked Harley. "Like JARVIS and FRIDAY?"

"Yes," the AI affirmed.

"Tony created you to help me," questioned Harley.

"Yes."

Harley sat back in his chair in shock. He hadn't known. At least he now knew where the file name came from. A moment passed before Harley asked,

"How are you designed to help me?"

"I am programmed with all knowledge Dr. Stark deemed necessary as well as being connected to FRIDAY and Stark Industries Servers. I am also the same as all of the other AIs created by Dr. Stark. I have my base code with my primary duty being to help you, Harley Keener, and to learn and grow."

"Alright," Harley said after a long pause. "Let's get to work but one thing first."

"What is that?"

"Can I call you NATE because NATHANIEL is a bit long."


The hours melded together which merged into days which blended into weeks. Nearly every waking hour of the day Harley spent in his garage working on his self imposed project. The work was finally paying off. Harley set down his tools and exhaled. Looking down, he examined his work. It was not complete but he wanted to run a few tests before he continued. For that, he'd need Mercedes' help.


"Harley! Is this really a good idea?"

Mercedes looked on worriedly at her brother. This would not work. Her brother was going to kill himself. Why had she agreed to this?

"I'll be fine Dezzie," Harley shouted to her. "Ready?"

"Ready," Mercedes called back reluctantly, making sure to fixate the camera on her brother.

"This won't end well," she muttered to herself.

"One… two...three!"

Moments passed and Mercedes looked on in partial shock. This was actually working. It was actually working!

Crash!

Nevermind.

Mercedes cringed before calling, "You alright?"

A groan and then, "... I'm fine."


Harley sat down heavily in his chair and stifled a groan. Everything hurt. Shock absorption needed to be added. And padding, lots of padding. Maybe an undersuit of some kind.

"NATE, pull up the specs again."

"On it."

The project was working smoothly, or relatively smoothly, so far. This was only a test run before moving forward, Harley had to remind himself. At least he had an idea of what he would need to do going forward.

Harley looked at the design. A modification on the chest piece was needed. The paneling could be more streamlined preferably. He also needed to figure out how to better protect the joints.

Harley winced as pain shot down his arm. He also needed to learn how to use the thing in the first place. Tony made it look so easy. Recording everything may also be helpful and scientific at the least.


"Are you sure it will work this time," questioned Mercedes.

"Yes."

"Okay," said Mercedes, shaking her head disbelievingly.

"Turn the camera on," instructed Harley. Mercedes nodded and clicked record on the camera, pointing it towards her brother.

"This is test run number five. Go in three...two...one," guided Mercedes before flashing a thumbs up.


"Camera rolling. This is test run number ten. Ready?"

Camera fixated on Harley, Mercedes straightened up and looked towards her brother. She shot him a questioning look.

"Ready," he affirmed.

"Go in three...two...one."


"NATE, how is everything looking," questioned Mercedes, eyes trained on the computer.

"Everything looks in order Dezzie." Mercedes rolled her eyes at the childhood nickname NATE had been using since Harley instructed him to call her that.

"We're ready for you Harley," she called.

Harley walked out and took position. He looked towards his sister and she nodded. Mercedes clicked the button on the camera and nodded.

"This is test run number twenty. Go in three...two...one."


"Everything is in order Harley," announced Mercedes as her eyes scanned over the screen.

Mercedes turned in her swivel chair to face her brother. Harley stood confidently. She gave him a nod.

"We're ready when you are," she affirmed.

"Alright," said Harley. "NATE, you ready."

"Yes, Harley," the AI affirmed.

"Let's go," stated Harley, straightening his shoulders.

Mercedes nodded and turned back to her desk. Clicking record on the camera, Mercedes turned back to monitor the computer and all the info coming from the suit.

"This is test run number fifty two," she announced. "Ready to go in three...two...one."

Mercedes read over the stats, glancing between the screen and her brother. Remaining calm, she continued to monitor. "Oh my God," she muttered as more time passed. "It's working. It's actually working"

"Harley, it's working! It's actually working! Everything is running perfectly! I think you did it!"

"Yes," Harley shouted. "Finally! Excelsior!"


Harley crossed his arms and smirked. Looking downwards, he gazed at his project in triumph. The suit was perfect. After countless test runs, modifications, and redesigns he had created a functioning for himself.

In retrospect, building the suit was much easier than learning how to use it. Tony had made it look so easy. Learning how to walk with the suit alone was a challenge due to its weight. Then came the troubles of maintaining balance and building up core strength to be able to fly successfully. Superhero work was not as glamorous as he thought and he wasn't even a superhero yet. Hmm. He still needed a superhero name. He was not too fond of Mercedes' suggestion of Iron Lad.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Turning around he saw Mercedes leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.

"I think you are going to want to see the news Harley," she stated simply.


"Dr. Stark," a synthetic male voice sounded out.

The motley group of heroes residing in the Compound jumped, startled by the voice that did not belong to FRIDAY or any other AI in the compound which came over the sound system. As everyone geared up for a fight, Tony, in contrast, looked shocked.

"NATHANIEL," questioned Tony, a note of disbelief in his voice.

"Yes sir," the AI responded, "But I have started to be called 'NATE' for short per request."

"NATE," started Tony, "Why have you connected to the system?You're not suppose to be online yet."

"That changed. I may have opened the file sooner than you expected," a new voice sounded out.

The team whipped around to face the direction of the voice, ready for a fight, to see a red and silver iron man suit. Tony looked on, stunned. Standing up and taking a few steps forward, Tony spoke cautiously.

"Harley?"

"Hey Mechanic," the voice said as the faceplate flipped up. A young man smiled out from the suit. "It's good to see you. I thought you could use some help. What do you think of the suit?"


Author's Note: I hope someone enjoyed this work. I may come back and end up editing it some but I wanted to get it published before "Endgame" came out. Constructive criticism is welcome. I could use the input. I have some notes on the story below.

(1) The title comes from a word I found a while back. I am not entirely sure if this is the correct definition but I think it is. The title doesn't fit entirely but I thought it worked since this takes place after The Snap.

(2) I came up with Harley's sisters name, inspired by someone else's name for her. I can't remember what story it was, though.

(3) The name of the AI is a nod to Nathaniel Richards, Iron Lad in the comics.

(4) The color of the suit is inspired by the colors of Nathaniel Richards' suit.

(5) I had to include that tribute to Stan Lee.

I think that it all. Have a good day (or night)! Input is welcome, at least helpful input.

- Miss Corrine