Author's Note: As stated in my end note for Hunted, this is not a complete novel. Rather, this a collection of prewritten scenes/chapters/notes and summaries for what I had planned for the next few books in the series. Unfortunately, time does not permit me to work on fanfiction anymore, which makes me very sad, but I wanted to at least post what I had for any readers still attached to my Paint it Black series.

This is the opening chapter for the next novel intended in the series, Sound of Silence. To preface, there would have been one more chapter in the book, Hunted, which would have been Tony and Pepper's wedding, attended, of course, by most if not all of the Avengers and friends. This chapter would have wound down from the climax, allowing the characters to reconnect, to celebrate, to do some healing. Plenty of humor, some comfort fluff, the works. But some important tidbits I would have dropped in that final chapter:

When Tony asks his new bride why she isn't touching her champagne, she tells him she is pregnant.

MJ is BACK. She and Peter have an important and long overdue conversation

Later, Bucky pays a visit to Kraven, ensuring he never hunts anything or anyone ever again.

And EPILOGUE!

So before we jump into the first chapter of Sound of Silence (again this kills me that I am posting scenes/chapters/notes/summaries instead of a complete book), please enjoy the epilogue I wrote for the end of Hunted, to get you pumped for this book.

-EPILOGUE-

Dust in the Wind

WAKANDA

. . .

Okoye

"A great man once told me 'To hide from one's duty is a coward's choice, not a king's'," I say, staff in hand.

"I am not hiding."

"Then come down from there. You look like a child who stole his mother's soetkoekies."

T'Challa heaves a sigh and looks down at me from his perch in the rafters just behind the statue of a seated panther, its head nearly reaching the arched ceiling above. "If you'd ever tried my mother's cookies, Okoye, you'd know there's nothing worth stealing."

"Quit stalling. Get down here, and help me find your dignity."

The king slips off the beam, his hand shooting out at the last minute to seize it before he drops nimbly to the ground. His gray and black jacket rustles softly as he straightens, hands behind his back and chin lifted. "I'd ask how you found me, but I wouldn't want to insult you."

"You are a wise and gracious king," I nod my head. "Shall we?"

T'Challa lets out one last sigh. "These meetings will be the death of me."

Together we turn and leave the atrium, more Dora Milaje falling into step around us as protocol demands. I match my stride to the king's. "You do realize you are more dramatic than your teenage sister?"

"No one is more theatrical than Shuri. Except maybe Tony Stark."

I let out a huff of agreement.

"What is on the agenda for today's council meeting?" T'Challa asks, eyeing me sideways.

"You already know the answer to that. It's the same as it was two days ago. And the week before."

"Demethi," he curses under his breath. "The sooner the Council accepts the fact that we are a part of this world, the easier it will be for us all."

"Change has never been met with glad tidings. It will take time."

"Time is something kings can ill afford."

"You had time to hide from the Council members for thirty eight minutes this morning," I say wryly.

"Must you always-"

The kimoyo beads at his wrists thrum, and as he raises his forearm, Shuri's face comes into focus above it.

"What is it?" asks the king.

"I need you in my lab."

"Shuri-"

"Now."

I frown. The princess sounds unsettled.

"Can't it wait?" T'Challa shoots me a glance. "I am on my way to a Council meeting."

"To hell with the Council. Now, brother."

Her face disappears, and T'Challa frowns, picking up his pace as we change routes to the laboratory. "That does not sound promising."

"No," I agree, our footsteps echoing down the hall. "But even so, I can see you are thrilled for the delay."

"You can give me as much of a hard time as you wish, Okoye. We both know you are just as relieved as I."

A smile quirks my lips. He's not wrong.

But the teenage royal did not bear her usual confidence or sly smirk. That was barely suppressed fear I saw in her face, and that unnerves me.

"Any guesses?"

"A new suit gone rogue?" offers T'Challa, but I see the same concern in his eyes.

When we reach the corridor, chaotic sounds find our ears. I make sure to enter first, sidling in front of the king before he can protest, eyes scanning for the cause of the chaos.

I don't see it, not even as T'Challa enters the room after me, the Dora Milaje filing into place by the door.

Shuri's laboratory assistants are frantic, calling out questions and orders as they rush from station to station, bewilderment on their faces.

The princess is the only one standing still up in the tower.

Quickly, we ascend the winding, illuminated ramp up to her side.

Braids bound atop her head, her body garbed in sleek violet, Shuri stands at the central station. Glass displays are propped up before her, projecting the expansive holographic monitor hovering above it all.

Her hands are flying, swiping, fingers tapping as she unravels intricate threads of blue and silver light. Numbers and code in multiple dialects race across the screens below, a jumbled mess too fast and complex for me to follow.

"What's happening?" T'Challa demands, striding to his sister's side, looking up at her rapid dance.

Shuri's lips are pressed in a grim line, and she refuses to stop whatever it is she's doing to face her brother. "Wakanda has been breached."

"What?" I move closer, eyes searching the knots of threaded light, as if they will suddenly morph into the map I need them to be, displaying the approaching threat. "Impossible."

"By an army?" asks T'Challa.

"No. Something else."

"Explain," the king demands, and my hand tightens its grip on my spear.

Shuri's hands seem to move suddenly faster, and though she works to untangle the mass tethered to the data below, each string she frees seems to weave itself into a tighter knot. She lets out a sound of frustration deep in her throat. "There is something here. I didn't see it at first, and it rooted itself into everything. It's like a weed, but I can't tell how the seed got planted."

"A weed? Shuri, I beg you, speak plainly."

She whirls, and I see her raised hands are trembling. "This is the center of our country, brother. Not the palace, this lab. Everything is tied to this database," she sets a hand on the glass. "That I built. All the technology, all lines of communication, everything. And I'm telling you that it has been breached by an invader."

The king pales. "Who? How?"

"I don't know. I designed it to be unbreachable. Our defenses are constantly updated and monitored. Any slight shift or push, and I see it. But . . . but I didn't see it. T'Challa . . . "

There is fear, raw and young in Shuri's eyes. "It's been here, watching and waiting this whole time."

I lift my eyes to the coiled mass of light. "Waiting for what?"

The princess doesn't answer, just turns back to the monitors beneath the holographic display, her brows creasing as she begins typing away.

"Shuri, you have to tell me more. I can't fight what I can't see," T'Challa says, looking over her shoulder. "How did you find it?"

"It revealed itself. That's what scares me," her voice is tight. "I still would not know it was here had it not shown itself to me. I don't know what it's going to do, and it absorbs everything I throw at it."

The royals stare intently at the lower monitors as Shuri works, as the lab assistants do the same at their stations.

But my gaze is fixed on that writhing tangle. And I notice a tiny bead of crimson at its silvery blue center. Frowning, I move closer, peering at the pulsing red. "What is that?"

"The weed," Shuri says without looking. "It's tangled itself into all of our systems."

"No," I say, lifting a hand to point. "That."

She stops typing. Moves closer. Her breath catches.

"Oh my god."

There's a beat of silence, and then that red bead of light bursts, and crimson stains each thread of light like blood rushing through a vein. The lab is drenched in the hue as the entire mass changes color, as it bleeds into the code racing across the monitors.

Every. Single. One.

"What's happening?" demands T'Challa, eyes flicking from screen to screen. "Shuri!"

She shakes her head, eyes wide, speechless.

In the distance, a deep siren begins to wail, the pitch rising and falling as it screams out the danger. And outside the massive bay of windows, smoke begins rising from within the jungle. Talon Fighters go shrieking past, firing west, toward the city.

A shrill alarm sounds within the lab, within the entire palace.

"It's controlling everything," Shuri breathes, even as she lunges for the monitors, typing fruitlessly away as the red blares on, unresponsive to her touch. "It's turning our weapons against the city."

T'Challa turns to bolt, unable to remain still and useless while his country burns, but Shuri's sharp inhale has him pausing.

She turns, horrified. "I . . . I know how it got in."

"Does it matter now?! We have to stop it before it slaughters our people!" T'Challa races down the ramp, tapping at the ceremonial necklace. The nanotech ripples across his body in its vibranium weave as the king dons his armor. I follow.

Behind me, I hear the princess whisper, "I wasn't here. I followed you into the stars, and I stopped watching. I . . . I wasn't here, and it found a way in."

Chills erupt across my skin as I sprint after the king, the Dora Milaje falling into step behind us, weapons at the ready. When I catch up to his side, he says through clenched teeth, "All communications are down. I can't reach the Avengers. I can't reach anyone."

We sprint down the corridor, and distant screams begin to echo.

"Ukumkanikazi, ngoku," I bark, and the Dora Milaje break off from us, intent on reaching the queen.

Darkness sweeps the halls as every light in the palace dies. Here in the windowless corridors, its pitch black.

The king curses, the eyes of his mask glowing white, and I know he is still able to see just as well as if sunlight graced every wall.

There's movement to my right, a brush of wind all the warning I receive before a cold, hard hand bites into the flesh of my arm, yanking me back and making my feet stumble. Without hesitating, I toss my spear into my free left hand, twirling it once before jabbing out at my attacker with a snarl.

I feel it connect, hear the grind of metal against metal, and then the hand around my arm is gone, and a burst of red light burns across my chest, the fiery impact throwing me off my feet and onto the floor.

In the dark I see bursts of red, illuminating the Black Panther as he lunges for my attacker. Black floods my vision before another scarlet explosion lights the hall, and I see the silhouette of a hulking figure, light glinting from some kind of armor.

There's a screech of metal on metal, sparks flying, and then the sound of something heavy clattering to the ground.

I push to my feet, even as T'Challa's glowing white eyes move before me.

"Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine."

Screams echo in the darkness, followed by the sounds of fighting, of energy blasts. Wordlessly, the king and I race toward it all.

A terrifying realization snakes its way in as I recognize the direction in which we head.

I pray that I am wrong.

"Go," I tell the king, knowing his strength makes him far faster than me. He lingers at my side, wary of another attack, but a fresh wail of pain spurs him forward.

As I run after him, light from tall windows finally illuminating my path, I try to contact anyone at all with the kimoye beads at my wrist. But they might as well be a simple bracelet made by children, for they sit silently against my skin.

I leap over the railing at my left, bypassing a flight of stairs, and my knees sing at the impact when I hit the floor below, a flashing red light breaking up the darkness of this windowless corridor declining deep into the mountain.

The screams cut off abruptly, and I can only hear the sounds of my own echoing footsteps and the roar of my blood in my ears.

It takes an eternity for me to reach it, to find T'Challa standing frozen at the hall's throat, lit up by the flashing red light. His mask is down, his expression slack, his eyes fixed ahead.

Breathing hard, I slow my steps, my muscles weighed with chains of dread as I make my way to his side.

I can only stare at the bodies strewn savagely across the floor, fists still closed around useless weapons, blood streaking the marble. Six of my warriors, of my Dora Milaje, slaughtered as if they were nothing.

But the king isn't looking at the fallen.

He stares at the open doors. Vibranium, two feet thick, carved from top to bottom with an intricate lock that can only be undone by the king's key. Thrown open wide and mocking, unmarred.

Within the room, a pedestal that once held a vibranium container, surrounded by intense heat and constant, pulsing vibrations, is utterly empty.

"UThixo asincede," I breathe, the words catching in my throat.

God help us all.

SOUND OF SILENCE

CHAPTER ONE

Every Breath You Take

NEW YORK CITY, AVENGERS TOWER

. . .

. . .

TONY STARK

I don't think I've ever experienced a silence so charged, so strained with the promise of violence. It bores into the back of my neck with almost palpable heat.

When I can't bear it anymore, I straighten and slowly turn my head.

"You're pretty," I say.

Pepper glares, arms crossed above the substantial curve of her pregnant belly. She says nothing. She doesn't have to.

"Really," I insist, sidling toward her with hands outstretched. "I never believed in the glow but you . . . you, Pepper, could outshine the god of thunder himself."

Her lips press tightly together.

"Look, hon-"

"Fifteen minutes."

"This isn't me disagreeing with you, but I believe I said fifty minutes."

"You said fifteen. 'I'll be back in fifteen minutes, Mrs. Stark.'"

"God I love hearing you say Mrs. Stark."

Pepper's eyes get almost imperceptibly wider. "You left me in the car. For nearly an hour. Do you know anything about pregnant women? Or me for that matter?"

"Juniper is the height of luxury. There's nothing that vehicle doesn't have."

"A bathroom," she counters, head tilting with each word. "It doesn't have a bathroom, Tony. And instead of just letting me walk into your precious tower with you, you told me to wait in the car."

"I was trying to be a gentleman and keep you off your feet." I move closer, despite all my instincts insisting that I call Mark 63 immediately and jump off the roof. My hand reaches out to settle on her stomach. "Hmm? What's that?"

"Don't."

I frown, craning my neck down to hear better. Then I straighten to meet Pepper's eyes. "He says he heard fifteen minutes, too. That's two against one, Mrs. Stark."

"Oh really?" Despite the edge in her voice, I see the hint of a smile fighting against the harsh line of her mouth.

I lift my hands and gesture to her stomach. "Look, Tony Junior is not comfortable with picking sides. . . but he did say he thinks you should forgive me for losing track of the time, then kiss me soundly."

Pepper's brow quirks. "Tony Junior?"

"You're right. It's terrible. Anthony the Second flows better."

She slaps my arm hard, and that smile finally breaks free. "You're an ass. Next time don't make the pregnant woman wait while you check on your toys."

"Noted," I say with a smile of my own, and then I kiss her.

"We're not naming our son Anthony the Second," she says when she pulls back, and I see all the tension has melted out of her. I mentally highfive my unborn spawn. This is the third time he's helped me get out of a thorough ass whooping.

"I second that veto."

We both turn to see Steve strolling down the ramp from the second level balcony of the tower's main living space and lounge, hands in his pockets, and Barnes a few steps behind him.

I throw up my hands. "I needle you for weeks to get a haircut before my wedding, Barnes, and you finally deign to get one six months after the fact?"

Barnes's smirk is clearly visible without a mop of brown hair creeping over his face. The man looks younger with his hair cut in a styled fade, much more like the photos of the charming soldier boy instead of the haunted Winter Soldier Hydra turned him into.

I can't deny he looks healthy. Happy.

"Felt like a change," he says.

"Typical."

"It looks great, Bucky," Pepper adds with a smile. "Very modern."

"Thanks," he smiles.

"So you still haven't picked a name, yet?" asks Steve as the pair approaches.

"Not yet," says Pepper. "We're having a hard time agreeing."

"F.R.I.D.A.Y. agrees with all of my suggestions," I point out. "Don't you, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?"

Silence.

"Traitor," I mumble.

"Well, you still got a couple months, right?" asks Steve. "There's still time to decide. I'd offer some ideas, but I'm sure they're a bit outdated."

"Outdated is better than outlandish, which is largely what Tony is contributing," Pepper says wryly.

"How is AE X 12 outlandish?"

"Please tell me you're joking," Barnes deadpans.

"Give me some credit. This is the heir to the Stark kingdom, here people. I'm not planning on naming my son after a piece of fruit or something."

Steve looks a little too wary. "I certainly hope not."

"Are you two the only ones on shift in the tower today?" asks Pepper, resting her hands on top of her stomach. She doesn't even seem to be aware how often her hands naturally drift there on a daily basis.

"That's right," nods Steve. "Vision and Wanda took the week off to head back to their new homestead. You know how restless they get when they linger too long."

Sometimes it hits me in the little moments like this. It's almost an out of body experience, where I step back and marvel at the fact that I can now hangout comfortably with the man who murdered my parents and the friend who defended him.

There was a time I might have killed them both. A time where I thought things were broken beyond repair.

And yet, here I stand, with my pregnant wife, chatting baby names and teasing about haircuts.

Barnes meets my eyes, brows twitching, like he can sense the path my thoughts have taken. I bet he certainly didn't think we'd ever get to this point either.

Life's a funny thing.

"We were actually going to head out and grab a pizza," says Steve. "Care to join us?"

"Raincheck, Cap," I say. "I want to finish the upgrade on the Sentinel program before we head home for the night."

"Sentinel program?" asks Barnes.

"You'll see."

"Cryptic. Awesome."

"Have a nice night," smiles Steve as he hugs Pepper briefly and heads for the elevator. He calls over his shoulder as Barnes follows, "Take your wife home, Stark. The upgrade can wait."

"Upgrades wait for no man," I call back. At Pepper's look, I amend, "But they do wait for beautiful women who are tired and ready to be home relaxing in the bath."

"Thank you," she says, and kisses me.

"Really? All that money and you skimp on elevator maintenance?"

I break from my kiss with an annoyed huff. Barnes and Steve are waiting expectantly by the silver double doors, the former with his finger repeatedly jabbing the button, eyebrow raised.

I'm about to make a snide comment, something clever involving a neanderthal and the technological advancements of an elevator button being too much for him, but my eyes are narrowing on the button itself. Then to the thin panel above the elevator, normally displaying which floor the box is currently residing at.

Both are dark and unresponsive.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., what the hell did you do to my elevator?" I pull reluctantly away from Pepper, who's frowning.

"Sure, blame the A.I.," Barnes smirks.

The A.I. in question doesn't respond. I let out a sharp whistle. "F.R.I.D.A.Y., look alive. I know I didn't approve that PTO you requested."

"Technical problems?'' suggests Steve. I'm moving towards them and the elevator.

"I don't get technical problems."

Pepper lets out a "Ha!" that I ignore as I reach my hand for the wall console by the elevator, grateful to see that at least this is still responsive, even if the elevator and the A.I. running the whole show have decided to go AWOL on me.

"Where the hell are you?" I mutter, fingers flying across the screen as I run through the security systems and program diagnostics.

"Tony?" Pepper reaches my side, her hand coming up to my shoulder as she peers over it to the screen below. "What's the problem?"

"That's just it," I say, eyes on the screen. "There isn't one. None that I can see, and yet I am down one elevator and a multi-billion dollar artificial intelligence."

The console I'm delving through goes suddenly and inexplicably black.

"Ok, now I'm starting to get pissed."

Like a ripple effect, spreading out from the elevator, technology begins to go dark. Every light, every computer screen, even the goddamn kitchen appliances behind the bar flicker then switch off in an abrupt, silent wave.

Pepper's hand tightens on my shoulder as I turn to face the room. Steve and Barnes shift behind me, tension swelling with the darkening tech around us.

"Power outage?" offers Steve, but I can tell from his voice that even he doesn't think our odds are that good.

I flex my hand, calling my Ironman suit to me, but there's an empty click in the band encircling my wrist, informing me that even the micro-tech gauntlet I keep stashed in my watch is out for the count. So I thumb the backup security measure at the base of the band, my newest stroke of genius, and wait.

"So I suppose whoever hacked into my tech is about to make some sort of grand entrance now, right?" I call out into the darkness, taking a step forward to shift my pregnant wife behind me. "Spooky, I'll give you that. But not exactly original."

"Original."

The voice that echoes through the entire space has my insides seizing, my eyes widening involuntarily as the others around me stiffen.

Mechanical. Deep and rumbling. Malice dripping from every syllable.

"I've been accused of many things," continues that voice, drawling the words as the deep timber rumbles through my bones. "Being unoriginal . . . well, that's a new one."

Ultron.

I'm struck speechless as my eyes search the darkness of the room, unable to fathom why I'm hearing a voice that I would have said with a hundred percent certainty that I'd never hear again. Pepper's fingers are digging into my shoulder hard enough to bruise, her breaths coming quick and short.

"That's impossible," Steve says, moving forward to stand beside me, Barnes shadowing him.

"Improbable. But I can see where you'd have trouble."

Steve straightens, his tone losing the shock and morphing into his standard "righteous hero" version. "We wiped every trace of you from the Earth. Vision made sure of that."

Laughter, quiet and thunderous, beats the room like the bass of a speaker amped up too high, raising the hairs on the back of my neck.

"You forget, Captain," the voice drops to something entirely unamused and very, very dangerous. "That Vision was mine before you ripped it from me. Perhaps you shouldn't have trusted it so inexplicably."

The implication of that threatens to drop the floor beneath me, but I jerk myself away from that horrifying line of thought.

"So this is it, then?" Steve counters, recovering faster than I can. "Your big revenge scheme? We went toe to toe before, and in case you forgot, you lost."

"How quaint to remind me of my failure. As if the mere memory of the mighty Avengers would leave me quaking."

"It should," says Steve firmly. "We've only grown stronger."

"As have I. You'd be surprised just how much of that was in thanks to you. Do you think I remained idle while you warred amongst yourselves and collected strays?"

"This is the part where you unveil your master plan to us in all its glorious evil?" I say at last, my voice darker than I anticipated it to be. "How hopelessly inept we are to stop you?"

"No. This was an indulgence. And a warning."

"You think because you've plotted and gotten a few upgrades that you can take us on? Try it," I dare, ignoring Pepper's warning squeeze. "We've faced a lot of things more frightening than last season's failed science project, and we've made a lot more friends."

"I am wealthy in my friends," Ultron pauses. "Shakespeare, I believe . . . You think you have assembled an army. A team unmatched by any in the universe."

His voice deepens so much that I can feel the reverberations in the floor vibrating up through my shoes. "I can see why you'd be so confident. It's not as if you've remained untested these past years. Yet you've deluded yourselves for far too long. . . covered up the truth of what you are."

"Which is?" demands Steve.

"Finished."

Ding.

The elevator doors slide open behind us. I whirl, seizing Pepper and pulling her to me as Barnes and Steve tense to face the threat.

Darkness. Nothing but silent black inside the throat of the elevator shaft, the faintest light from the windows behind us glinting along the cables and wires along the wall.

Barnes shifts closer to the open doors, his muscles coiled and ready as he eases forward, metal arm braced to fight or defend. Pepper presses herself against me, not daring to breathe.

WHOOSH-SNAP!

Something falls from high above in the shaft, coming to an abrupt halt right in front of Barnes's nose with a horrific and final crack. Pepper screams as Barnes reels back, arm raised . . .

A dark silhouette hangs within the elevator shaft, swaying gently back and forth, a thick black cable stretching from its neck and disappearing up into the abyss.

"Oh my god," gasps Pepper, hands over her mouth as we stare at the body.

Swallowing hard, I watch with no small amount of dread as Steve approaches the dark figure, face grim. I'm going through the list in my head of who was in the tower, who was on staff. . . but I know that the options are limitless. If Ultron wants us dead, he could have gone anywhere in the world, grabbed anyone at all to be the first fatality, a demonstration of his wrath and skill.

Gently, Steve reaches forward and takes the swinging body by the shoulders, pulling it forward into the faint light cast from the bright cityscape behind us.

Relief crashes into me so hard I nearly sag against Pepper.

Not a body.

One of Ultron's copies, skeletal face and inferior metal structure and all. An android, I tell myself. Not one of us.

Not yet.

Steve glances back, face dark, then calls out to the room. "You've made your point."

Another dark laugh. "I've only just begun."

The lights flicker back on, machines whirring to life as if they weren't just taken completely out of commission. We tense, waiting for an attack, for Ultron to show his face at last, but nothing happens.

"All that for a message?" asks Barnes.

"He's a bit dramatic," I say distantly, eyeing the android in Steve's hands, the cable noosed around its bent neck still pulled taut. "Not sure where he got it from. Bruce and I were very stable parents."

"Is this really the time to joke?" snaps Steve. "Ultron is supposed to be extinct."

"Hey, don't look at me. Vision was the one on clean up duty. Why don't you ask him why Ultron is still walking around looking for murder kicks?"

"Don't start blaming Vision."

"I'm sorry, did you not hear the implied threat of betrayal?"

"Ultron is trying to divide us. Same as last time. Casting suspicion on Vision is just his way of starting the same routine, because he knows we are stronger when we're together."

"Cut the afternoon special, Cap. Vision assured us not a trace of Ultron was left, and here we are. We can't just ignore that."

"I'm not saying we ignore it, I'm saying we-"

"Tony."

Pepper's tone cuts Steve off, and we both look at her. Face pale, eyes trained on the Ultron bot, she lifts a hand to point a shaking finger at its chest. "Tony, look."

I obey, all of us searching for what has her looking so horrified, other than the obvious. For a moment, I don't spot anything out of the ordinary.

Then I see it.

I hear Barnes's sharp curse, hear Steve's intake of breath, but I'm moving forward, hands reaching for android's corpse.

There, small and painted in black in the center of its mangled metal chest, is the emblem of a spider.

"Peter," breathes Barnes.

That's when I notice the red blinking light in the cracks of the android's broken neck.

"MOVE!" I bellow, throwing myself back as the emergency suit I called minutes ago rushes to me. I'm wrapping myself around Pepper, the metal encircling us both when the world around us explodes.

Author's Note Cont'd:

That's right people. For this next installment, I planned to bring back two major players to face off against our Avengers, one of which is ULTRON. I LOVED him as a villain and the intro to the new characters in Age of Ultron, and had this thought, what if some small part of him survived that day and has been laying low, rebuilding, planning, all while Civil War, Paint it Black, Silent Night, Riders in the Sky, and Hunted took place? What if he infiltrated Wakanda while its fiercest protectors were off rescuing the Avengers from the Dravec in Riders in the Sky?

And what if he brought another major player back into the game? One that will change EVERYTHING?

That is the premise of Sound of Silence. I won't say who the other big bad is yet, but I'm sure most if not all of you have already guessed based on clues in the epilogue and chapter one.

I can't tell you how much fun I had reading over these scenes that I wrote AGES ago and am still pretty pleased with.

I'm still figuring out how I'm going to do this. Of course I don't have NEARLY as many chapters as I want, so this is what I'm thinking. The next few "chapters" of this book will be exploring the main character story arcs. For example, the next one I post will show you the entirety of Wanda Maximoff's arc in the book, with notes/summaries and several scenes written out in detail. The one after that will probably be Peter's. And then we will go from there, wrapping up this novel and moving on to the snippets I have written for other books. But expect the next update very soon, I've already got it organized, and the one after that, with Peter's being the biggest and most central arc of the book, naturally, might take more time to put together.

As always, I'd LOVE to hear your thoughts, if any of you dear readers are still sticking around and reading this series! Comment below what you think so far, what you're looking forward to, any guesses or questions or just what you liked!

Much love,

Queen