Chapter 8 - Growing Up

Detroit, Michigan
June 14, 2003

The Bradleys' tiny apartment felt even smaller with two families squeezed around the dining table. The confined space only amplified the tension, making the air feel heavier. Nathan Greene sat between his parents, his hands resting calmly in his lap. Across from him, Jessica Bradley shifted in her chair, arms crossed tightly and jaw clenched.

The dining table, cleared of dinner, bore the scars of everyday life—a faint burn from a too-hot pan and a few scratches from sliding plates. Jessica's mother, Karen, busied herself at the sink, putting away dishes from their interrupted dinner as if the movement could dispel some of the awkwardness in the room. Her father, George, sat stiffly at the table's head, his protective posture betraying his wariness as he glanced between the Greenes.

"Thank you for inviting us in," Martha Greene began, her warm smile not quite reaching her eyes. Her hands rested nervously on the edge of the table, fingers twitching slightly. "We weren't sure if coming here was the right thing to do, but Nathan insisted."

Jessica rolled her eyes dramatically. "You said that already."

"Jessica!" Karen scolded, turning from the sink. "Mind your manners."

Jessica huffed but didn't argue.

Hank Greene cleared his throat, his tone awkward yet earnest. "Well, we're here now. I'm Hank, and this is my wife, Martha. And of course, this is—"

"I know who he is," Jessica snapped, cutting him off mid-sentence. Her glare landed on Nathan, sharp and suspicious. "I saw the interview. Everyone knows who you are."

Nathan met her gaze evenly, unfazed by her hostility. He'd expected this reaction—anger was natural when life seemed unfair. He wasn't going to take it personally.

Karen and George exchanged uneasy glances, both ready to reprimand Jessica again, but Nathan interjected.

"Fair enough," he said simply. "But it's polite to introduce myself anyway." He straightened, his voice calm yet firm. "I'm Nathan Greene, and I'm here because I wanted to meet you."

Jessica's eyes narrowed, her suspicion unabated. "What do you even want? You sent us tickets, and you mentioned me during the interview. Why?"

Karen's voice was gentle but steady. "Jessica, let him speak."

Jessica didn't look away from Nathan, her jaw tightening further, but she remained silent.

Nathan inclined his head slightly in Karen's direction, then returned his focus to Jessica. "Like I said, I wanted to meet you. Is it so strange that I'd want to meet the only other person like me?"

Jessica hesitated, her arms still crossed, though her posture softened slightly. "There were other ways to meet me. You didn't have to send tickets and a cheque for $10,000."

The words hit like a thunderclap. Across the table, Hank, mid-sip of tea, coughed violently, nearly spilling his drink. Martha rushed to pat his back, her eyes wide. "Ten thousand dollars?" she repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Hank finally cleared his throat, his voice strained but incredulous. "Nathan, where did you get that kind of money?"

Nathan glanced at his parents, his expression unflappable. "I've been working through our home computer since I was three. Mostly trading stocks."

The room went silent, save for the faint hum of the fridge.

"You've been doing what?" Martha's voice wavered between shock and concern.

Jessica's gaze sharpened. "Where'd you get the starting money?" she asked, her tone accusing. "Your parents obviously didn't know."

Nathan tilted his head, unbothered. "I earned it. I sold software patches and code under aliases. Did some ethical hacking too. Enough to get started."

Hank ran a hand over his face, torn between amazement and frustration. "Nathan, that's illegal!"

"Not the way I did it," Nathan replied evenly. "I stayed on the legal side—fixing vulnerabilities for companies. They paid me well."

Martha's voice cracked as she tried to steady herself. "How much money are we even talking about? How much do you have?"

Nathan hesitated, softening his tone. "Around seventy-three million. Give or take, since market prices fluctuate."

Karen, who had been quietly listening, dropped the dishcloth she was holding. "Seventy-three million dollars?!"

Jessica leaned forward, her eyes narrowing again. "You expect me to believe you casually made millions? What, did you invest in Microsoft?"

"Kind of," Nathan replied with a small smile. "I own shares in several major tech companies, including Microsoft and Google."

Jessica pounced. "Google's stocks aren't even public."

Nathan's smile didn't falter. "Not yet. It was part of a negotiation. They needed urgent work before launch, so I asked for equity. Their IPO is next year."

Jessica blinked, momentarily stunned. Her frustration gave way to reluctant awe. "You're serious?"

"Dead serious," Nathan said.

Hank leaned back, running a hand through his hair. "I don't even know what to say."

Jessica tilted her head, her curiosity taking over. "Why are you telling me all this?"

Nathan's gaze softened. "Because I know lying to you would be pointless. You're too smart for that."

Jessica's sharp gaze flickered, momentarily surprised. Then her mind leapt to the obvious. "You hacked Vought, didn't you?"

Nathan shrugged nonchalantly.

His parents froze, horrified.

"Relax," Nathan said calmly. "I wasn't caught, and I didn't leave a trail. Besides, it's only fair. Vought's been messing with my life for years."

Martha's face paled. "Nathan, that's not true. We've never—"

"Dr. Kim and Dr. Brinkerhoff," Nathan interrupted his tone sharper now. "And Miss Anderson? She's a Vought operative."

Martha opened her mouth, but no words came. Hank stared at his son, his expression tight. "How do you even know this?"

"It wasn't hard to figure out," Nathan said plainly. "Kim and Brinkerhoff's 'tests' were suspicious. Miss Anderson asked too many odd questions. Once I realized I wasn't normal, I hacked Vought's files. The only organization in the world that handles the super-abled, it was kind of obvious. They like to monitor their assets, and I'm guessing they assumed I wouldn't notice."

Martha covered her mouth, visibly shaken. Hank leaned forward, gripping the table's edge. "We didn't know about Miss Anderson," he said, his voice tight. "But Kim and Brinkerhoff… they've only been helpful."

Nathan's expression hardened. "Helpful?" He let out a dry laugh. "Dad, they're monitoring me, not helping. Did you think I wouldn't notice the invasive questions or the 'tests'? They're not concerned about my health—they're tracking my development like I'm an experiment."

Across the table, Karen and George exchanged uneasy glances. Jessica leaned forward slightly, her arms still crossed, studying Nathan intently. "And you think they're doing the same thing to me, don't you?" she asked, her voice quieter now.

Nathan turned his gaze to her, his tone softening. "I don't think," he said. "I know. And so do you. Vought doesn't take risks. I'm guessing you have regular checkups with their doctors?"

Jessica's eyes flicked toward her parents. George looked away, his jaw tight, while Karen's shoulders slumped under her daughter's gaze. Jessica pressed her lips into a thin line before answering. "Yeah," she admitted reluctantly. "I've known for a while. They're not subtle."

Nathan nodded, as if her response was inevitable. "Exactly. They keep tabs on us because they're afraid of what we might do if left unchecked."

Jessica leaned back, exhaustion seeping into her posture. "And what are you planning to do about it?"

Nathan's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze sharpening. "For starters, I'm planning to avoid being turned into a lab rat. They haven't crossed the line with me yet, but I don't trust them not to."

Jessica's parents stiffened at the implication. Karen's voice cracked as she asked, "What do you mean by that?"

Nathan hesitated before answering carefully, his tone measured. "During one of Jessica's tests, they put her under and removed a piece of her brain."

Karen gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as her eyes widened in horror. George's fists clenched on the table. "They did what?" His voice was low, dangerously restrained.

Jessica looked down, her hands gripping the table's edge. "I… I didn't know at first," she admitted quietly. "I thought the grogginess was just the anesthesia. It wasn't until later when I started piecing things together."

Karen rushed to her daughter's side, wrapping her in a protective hug. "Jessica, why didn't you tell us?"

"I didn't know!" Jessica's voice cracked. "They didn't say anything. It was just… another routine procedure. At least that's what they made it sound like."

George's face twisted with fury as he turned to Nathan. "How do you know about this?"

Nathan met his glare evenly. "Because they logged everything. Vought's records showed they were curious about heightened brain activity during a CT scan. They wanted to study her neurological tissue and confirm if the heightened activity indicated regenerative abilities. So, they took a sample."

Karen clutched Jessica tighter, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "This can't be happening," she whispered. "They… they can't do that, can they?"

Nathan's gaze softened, though his voice remained steady. "They can. And they will. If they see something they think is valuable enough to study, they won't hesitate. They do a lot worse to super-abled children without parents. I'll spare you the details, but most don't live into adulthood."

Nathan's own parents crowded around him and his mother asked, "They're not planning to do that to you too right?"

"No," Nathan said. "My scans never showed any signs of regenerative ability, and last I checked they considered me too well known to risk it at this point."

The room fell silent, the weight of Nathan's revelation pressing down on everyone. George's knuckles were white as he gripped the table, his expression torn between guilt and fury. Karen whispered reassurances to Jessica, holding her close. Meanwhile, Hank and Martha exchanged tense glances, both struggling to process what they'd just learned.

Nathan gave the room a moment to breathe, his calm gaze sweeping over everyone as the raw emotions ebbed slightly. Finally, he leaned forward, his voice cutting through the tension like a scalpel. "We can't change what's already happened. But we can decide what to do next."

Jessica's sharp eyes snapped back to him. "What do you mean by that? What can we do?"

Nathan gestured toward the living room, where a table was stacked high with books and notebooks. Titles on medicine, chemistry, radiation therapy, and leukemia caught his eye. "For starters, I see you've been working on something for your grandmother. A treatment, right? How's it going?"

Jessica hesitated, glancing at her parents. "Not great," she admitted bitterly. "The treatment should work, but the doctors won't listen to me. They just look at me like I'm some stupid kid."

Nathan nodded thoughtfully. "Why do you think they won't listen?"

Jessica scowled, leaning back. "Because they're arrogant and close-minded. They think they know everything because they have degrees and years of experience, and I'm just a kid to them."

Nathan tilted his head. "Maybe. But take a minute. Think back. What exactly happened? What did they say, and how did they act?"

Jessica frowned, her irritation bubbling beneath the surface. She hated being pushed like this, but she closed her eyes, replaying the encounter in her mind. Finally, she began slowly, "One of them was obviously threatened. He didn't like being questioned—especially by a kid. Every time I pointed something out, he got defensive, like I was challenging his authority. He also seemed worried though. His body language was worried. He might have thought that the risk of an untested procedure was too much."

Nathan nodded. "And the others?"

Jessica opened her eyes, her expression sharpening. "One of them didn't argue. She just kept steering the conversation back to standard treatments. I noticed her pen was from the hospital's third-party administrator's office. She knew insurance wouldn't cover anything experimental, so she didn't want to bother."

Her brow furrowed. "And the last one… he was burned out. His voice was flat, and he barely looked at me. He didn't care because he was too tired to even consider it."

Nathan leaned back, satisfaction flickering in his expression. "There you go. You just explained why they didn't listen, and none of it had to do with your treatment being invalid. It was about their limitations, not yours."

Jessica's shoulders relaxed slightly, though her expression remained guarded. "I hate doing that," she muttered. "Reading people like that. It's… unsettling."

Nathan's voice softened. "It's a powerful skill. Not always fun, I'm sure, but incredibly useful. Especially when you're dealing with people like that. I can't do it myself." He gestured toward the books again. "Your treatment—does it work?"

Jessica's eyes flicked to the pile of notes, her jaw tightening. "I think so. But it doesn't matter if no one will use it."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, studying Nathan. "Wait. Are you—?"

Nathan smiled faintly, leaning forward. "How much would it cost?"

Jessica blinked, caught off guard. Her parents exchanged wary glances, while Martha and Hank straightened in their seats, a realization dawning.

"Nathan…" Martha began cautiously, but he cut her off.

"Don't worry about it," he said, turning to Jessica's parents. "Consider it a gift. A gesture of good faith."

George's jaw tightened. "We don't want charity—"

"Dad, stop," Jessica interrupted sharply, elbowing him. She turned to Nathan, her eyes narrowing. "How much are we talking about?"

"As much as it takes," Nathan replied simply. "Specialists, materials, procedures—whatever you need."

Jessica studied him, her sharp gaze probing for any sign of insincerity. "And what do you want in return?" she asked bluntly. "Nobody just gives away money like that."

Nathan met her gaze evenly. "You're right. I do want something. I want to hire you."

Jessica's eyebrows shot up. "Hire me?" she repeated, her voice carrying an edge of incredulity.

George leaned forward, his posture protective. "She's eleven!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with both disbelief and frustration. "You can't seriously—"

Hank let out a short laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Consistent as ever," he muttered. "Of course, Nathan's recruiting already."

Karen blinked rapidly, her expression somewhere between bemusement and exhaustion. Martha sighed quietly, massaging her temples as if finally resigning herself to her son's relentless ambition.

Jessica didn't flinch under the weight of her father's words. Instead, she locked eyes with Nathan, her expression calm but calculating. "For that tech company you mentioned in the interview?" she asked, her tone more curious than dismissive.

Nathan's lips curved into a small, pleased smile. "Exactly. You saw the interview. What did you think?"

Jessica leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she considered her response. "About you mentioning me? Not a fan. A little heads-up would've been nice."

Nathan nodded in acknowledgment. "Fair."

"But the rest…" Jessica's lips quirked up in a faint smile. "It was smart. Tying climate change to the economy instead of just moralizing about the environment? Clever. People are more likely to care when their wallets are involved."

Nathan's expression brightened. "And the job creation angle?"

Jessica's amusement deepened. "That was even better. Watching pundits try to debate it has been hilarious. The Republicans especially—they can't decide whether to deny the problem or praise you for creating jobs. It's like watching a dog chase its tail."

Nathan chuckled. "That was the goal. Keep them spinning while I build momentum."

George finally found his voice again, cutting through the back and forth. "This is fascinating," he said, his tone clipped. "But Jessica's a kid. She's not ready for something like this."

Jessica turned to him, her expression firm. "Dad, I can speak for myself."

George's mouth snapped shut, his face torn between pride and frustration. Karen gave him a subtle pat on the arm, as if silently urging him to let Jessica take the lead.

Jessica turned back to Nathan, her sharp gaze never wavering. "Let's say I'm interested. Is my grandma's treatment conditional?"

Nathan raised his hands, shaking his head. "Absolutely not. It's a gift. No strings attached."

Jessica searched his face, her eyes narrowing slightly. After a moment, she leaned back, satisfied. "Okay. So what's the job?"

Nathan leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Alright. Remember when I mentioned the differences between our abilities?"

"I remember everything," Jessica said flatly. "Are you talking about the interview or just now when you said you can't read people like I can?"

"Both," Nathan replied. "I'm great at hard sciences—technology, engineering, theoretical physics—but my strengths are specialized. I could learn any scientific subject as quickly as you," he gestured toward the books, "and innovate even faster. But outside that? I have to focus. You, on the other hand, have a broader perspective. You understand people, societies, and how systems interact in ways I don't."

Jessica tilted her head slightly, intrigued. "So you want me to cover your blind spots?"

"Partly," Nathan admitted. "But it's more than that. I need someone who can see the big picture—someone who can keep me grounded. I tend to get tunnel vision with my projects, and I need help managing the ripple effects. Like my space industrialization plan—Fermilab and CalTech confirmed my results, and the oil market is already reacting. You can anticipate those kinds of disruptions and help me mitigate the fallout."

Jessica nodded slowly, her analytical mind already piecing together the implications. "That makes sense." Her gaze sharpened. "But you're still not telling me everything, are you?"

Nathan hesitated for a moment before exhaling. "You're right," he admitted, his calm demeanour flickering slightly. "There's one more thing." He glanced at his parents briefly, then back to Jessica. "I want someone to talk to. Someone who can actually keep up with me."

Jessica blinked, surprised. "Talk to?" she repeated, her tone skeptical but curious.

Nathan nodded. "You're not as inventive as I am, but you learn just as fast. You're probably the only person I could have a real conversation about science with. I need someone who understands what I'm trying to do—not just technically, but strategically. Someone who can challenge me, point out flaws, and offer perspectives I might miss."

Jessica's sharpness softened, her posture relaxing slightly. Her gaze flicked to the books and notes on the table before returning to Nathan. "You want a friend?"

Nathan shrugged.

"I can appreciate that," she said quietly.

Nathan smiled faintly, recognizing her shift in tone. "Good," he said. "Because this is just the beginning."

Jessica tilted her head, intrigued. "Alright. What exactly are we talking about here? What's the long-term plan?"

Nathan leaned forward again, his tone becoming more focused. "In the short term, I'd like your input on ongoing projects—socio-economic planning, market strategies, and so on. But in the long term…" He paused, glancing at her parents before continuing. "Because you're five years older than me, I'd like you to consider becoming the president of my company when you turn eighteen."

Jessica blinked. "President?"

Nathan nodded. "Greene Industries will need someone to manage day-to-day operations until I'm old enough to step into the CEO role. You'd be perfect for it."

Karen gasped softly, while George stared at Nathan as if he'd lost his mind. Hank leaned back in his chair, shaking his head, while Martha simply sighed.

Jessica's voice was steady, though her eyes betrayed her surprise. "Why me?"

Nathan's tone was matter-of-fact. "Because you're brilliant. You're capable of thinking strategically and seeing patterns others miss."

Jessica's lips pressed into a thin line as she considered his words. "What's the catch?"

Nathan smiled. "Just one condition—you go to university first."

Jessica frowned. "Why? I don't need it. I'm already ahead of most graduates."

Nathan raised a hand. "I know. But credentials matter. They give you credibility, especially when dealing with people who don't know you yet. It'll also make your role at Greene Industries look less like nepotism. Optics are important. Besides, what else are you going to do for the next seven years?"

Jessica tapped her fingers on the table, considering his point. "Fine. That's reasonable."

Nathan's smile widened. "While you're at university, you'll have time to explore other interests. If you want to start your own company—maybe a subsidiary in pharmaceuticals—I'll support it. And if you ever decide to leave Greene Industries, the door's always open."

Jessica studied him for a long moment, her gaze searching his face for any sign of ulterior motives. Finally, she nodded and held out her hand, "I'm in."

Nathan's relief was palpable as he took her hand and shook. "Welcome aboard."

Nathan's Lab, Poughkeepsie, New York State
June 27, 2003

Nathan stood in the brightly lit space of his secret lab, his eyes scanning the room that had been his refuge and sanctuary for the past few years. The walls were lined with shelves packed with meticulously arranged equipment and notes—all evidence of the work he'd poured his soul into. The faint hum of the servers filled the room, a melody he'd grown accustomed to, and one he knew he'd never hear again in this place.

Eleanor leaned casually against the edge of the main console, her sharp eyes watching him carefully. She was as composed as always, but there was a faint softness in her expression—a rare crack in the armour of the woman who had been his handler, mentor, and sometimes reluctant accomplice.

Nathan exhaled, his fingers trailing across a workbench as he took one last look around. "So," he said, his voice steady despite the heaviness in his chest, "what's going to happen to this place after I'm gone?"

Eleanor straightened, her arms crossing as she spoke. "The location was burned the second Vought got the address. Once you're out of here, the equipment will be stripped and relocated. After that, we're filling it in with cement and bricking up the entrance."

Nathan's lips pressed into a thin line. He'd known this was coming, but hearing it confirmed still stung. "They're not wasting any time, are they?"

"They never do," Eleanor replied, her voice cool but tinged with understanding. "This place is compromised now. Keeping it intact would be too much of a liability."

He turned away from the workbench, his gaze sweeping the lab one last time. The racks of prototypes, the tangled web of cables connected to experimental rigs, the whiteboards filled with equations—all of it felt like an extension of himself, a testament to what he could achieve when left to his own devices.

And now, it would all be gone.

Eleanor's voice cut through his thoughts. "How are your other contributions going?"

Nathan glanced back at her, raising an eyebrow. "Which ones?"

She gave him a knowing look. "Don't play coy. The breadcrumbs you've been leaving around the internet—the hints in robotics forums, the code snippets in programming communities. You think I wouldn't notice?"

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

"So?" she prompted. "Making any impact?"

Nathan shrugged modestly. "A bit. I've seen some upticks in innovation in certain sectors. A robotics company in Japan adopted a design I leaked for more efficient servo motors. An open-source community is developing an operating system kernel based on code I posted anonymously. Little things."

Eleanor nodded thoughtfully. "You're seeding technology advancements globally."

"Just nudging them in the right direction," Nathan corrected. "I can't do everything myself, but if I can accelerate progress, why not?"

"Careful with that," she cautioned. "Too much too fast could draw unwanted attention."

He met her gaze steadily. "I know. I'm being subtle. Just enough to inspire, not enough to cause suspicion."

She studied him for a moment, then sighed. "You're always ten steps ahead, aren't you?"

"I try," he replied lightly.

Eleanor pushed off from the console, taking a few steps closer. "You know, the world's going to change a lot because of you."

"Hopefully for the better," Nathan said.

She tilted her head, a hint of a smile on her lips. "You always were an optimist."

He chuckled softly. "Not always, but I like to think people can rise to the occasion."

Eleanor glanced around the lab, then back at him. "You'll have more resources at the university labs. Might even find collaborators who can keep up with you."

"Perhaps," he mused. "But it's not the same as having my own space."

"No, it's not," she agreed. "But sometimes change is necessary."

Nathan took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I suppose you're right."

She offered him a rare, genuine smile. "Of course I am."

He returned the smile, though it was tinged with melancholy. "I'll miss this place," he said quietly. "But I think I'll miss you more."

Eleanor blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Then she smirked. "Don't get sentimental on me, kid."

"Too late," he quipped.

Eleanor blinked, just a moment before a wry smile curved her lips, "I'll miss you too."

Nathan's smile grew, though there was a shadow of sadness behind it. "Maybe we'll see each other again."

"Maybe," Eleanor agreed, her tone lighter now. "You'll still be working under your contract, only this time, it'll be at one of the government labs at whatever university you end up at. Who knows? If you impress the right people, they might even give you access to some of the secure facilities."

Nathan let out a soft laugh. "Sounds like a step up. But it won't be the same."

"No," Eleanor admitted. "It won't. But that's the way it is. You're stepping into a much bigger world now. And honestly, you've outgrown this place." She gestured to the lab around them. "This was just the training ground."

Nathan nodded, knowing she was right. Still, the ache in his chest remained as he turned to face her fully. "Thanks, Eleanor. For everything."

She smiled a rare, genuine expression that softened her usual no-nonsense demeanour. "You're welcome, Nathan. Now, let's get you packed up and out of here. You've got a bright future ahead of you, and it's not waiting."

Nathan took one last look around the lab, committing every detail to memory, before stepping toward the exit. The door hissed open, and as he walked through, the faint hum of the lab's systems faded behind him, leaving nothing but silence.

Detroit, Michigan
August 5, 2003

Jessica leaned back in her chair, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder as she shuffled through the latest pile of university invitations on her desk. The soft hum of her ceiling fan filled the room, mingling with Nathan's voice on the other end of the line.

"They really said 'crucible'?" Jessica asked, a grin tugging at her lips as she flipped open an embossed folder from Wharton. "'The brilliance of your intellect'? Wow. You'd think they were casting for Shakespeare."

Nathan's laugh came through the receiver, dry and sharp. "I wish I were joking. It's like they're all competing to see who can use the most over-the-top language. Did you get the one from Yale yet?"

Jessica frowned, shuffling through the stack. "Yale… Yale…" Her fingers landed on a thick envelope with a wax seal. "Found it. Should I open it?"

"You'll love it," Nathan said. "Go ahead."

Jessica tore through the seal and unfolded the letter, her eyes skimming over the text. "'We believe your unique perspective would enrich the intellectual tapestry of our institution.'" She barked out a laugh. "Tapestry, huh? Did they steal that from an inspirational poster?"

"Probably," Nathan replied. "But it gets worse. Check the second page—they've got an IP clause buried in there. It's ridiculous."

Jessica flipped to the second page and whistled low. "'All intellectual property developed using university resources shall be subject to institutional oversight and review.' That's lawyer-speak for 'we own your ideas,' isn't it?"

"Exactly," Nathan said. "It's like they think I'm going to waltz into their lab, whip up a new particle accelerator, and hand them the keys."

Jessica leaned back, twirling a pen between her fingers. "At least I don't have to deal with that. Wharton's offers are pretty straightforward—scholarships, housing, and a couple of stipends. No one's trying to claim my brain."

"Lucky you," Nathan muttered. "Half these offers are basically veiled attempts to grab a share of anything I invent."

Jessica smirked. "That's because you will invent something game-changing. They just want a piece of it."

"I know," Nathan said, his voice softening. "But that's why I'm being picky. No point in tying myself to an institution that'll stifle me."

Jessica flipped through a few more brochures, pausing on one from Johns Hopkins. "I think I've got my path mostly figured out. Wharton for business, then Hopkins for med school. Their faculty list is solid, and they've got some great research opportunities."

"Good choices," Nathan said. "What about the accelerated programs?"

"They're willing to work with me," Jessica said, scribbling a note on the Hopkins brochure. "I'll be able to knock out a degree in less time and start med school early. What about you?"

"Harvard, MIT, and Caltech are my top picks," Nathan replied. "Harvard's offering an accelerated program for a business degree, and Caltech has some lab access I can't pass up. MIT's… well, it's MIT. They're letting me double major in physics and engineering."

Jessica raised an eyebrow. "So, you're just going to juggle three schools? Casual."

Nathan chuckled. "I've got it worked out. Accelerated programs at each. Besides, I'm used to multitasking."

Jessica snorted. "Of course you are. Overachiever."

"Says the girl who's planning to conquer business and medicine," Nathan shot back.

Jessica couldn't help but smile. "Fair point."

There was a comfortable pause, the sound of papers shuffling on both ends of the line. Jessica traced her finger over the Wharton crest, a flicker of excitement bubbling beneath her steady exterior. Jessica smirked, flipping the Wharton folder shut. "Alright, Nathan, let's make it interesting. The first one to drive their most annoying professor into early retirement wins."

Nathan chuckled. "Early retirement? Ambitious. What about half-points if it's just a leave of absence?"

"Deal," Jessica said, her grin widening. "Loser has to wear a t-shirt that says world's second smartest kid for a week. Winner gets to pick the colour"

"Ouch, harsh terms... fine," Nathan said, mock-serious. "But don't cry when I win. I've already got one footnote-happy professor in my sights."

"Bring it on," Jessica said, laughing as she hung up, already imagining her victory.

Detroit, Michigan
Spring Break, April 2004

Jessica stood in the apartment complex parking lot, nervously smoothing the folds of her sundress for the third time as the family car pulled into the driveway. Her heart raced as she spotted her grandmother, Sarah, in the back seat, a small but radiant smile on her face.

"Grandma!" Jessica called, running out to meet her.

Sarah's frail frame was bundled in a cardigan, her hair thinner than before, but her warmth was undiminished. "Oh, sweetheart," Sarah said as Jessica carefully helped her out of the car. "It's so good to see you."

Jessica hugged her gently. "It's so good to have you home."

George steadied Sarah as they made their way up the steps, Karen holding the door open with a beaming smile. "Welcome home, Mom."

They brought Sarah up to their apartment and settled her into her favourite armchair in the living room, a crocheted blanket draped over her lap. The "Welcome Home, Grandma!" banner hung proudly above her.

"You really went all out," Sarah said, her voice light with humour as she glanced around.

Jessica knelt beside her, taking her hand. "Nothing's too much for you."

Karen brought over tea and biscuits, setting the tray on the coffee table. Sarah smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling as she looked at Jessica. "How's school going, sweetheart? I still can't believe my granddaughter got into the Ivy League. You show those white boys what you can do."

Jessica's cheeks flushed, but she smiled. "It's going well. A lot of work, but worth it."

Sarah squeezed her hand. "I'm so proud of you, Jessica. You're going to do incredible things."

Jessica blinked back tears, her voice soft. "Thanks, Grandma."

In that moment, everything else faded away—just the two of them, together again.

MIT Lab, Cambridge, Massachusetts
May 1, 2005

Nathan strode briskly through the halls of MIT and entered the bustling research building. Finals week loomed, but his thoughts weren't on exams or papers—they were on what waited in his lab.

It had to be. The end of the semester was always a whirlwind, and this project was the crown jewel of everything he'd worked toward for the past two years. But even the thought of the impending success couldn't quite erase the nagging irritation in the back of his mind.

Shaking his head, Nathan pushed the door open, greeted by the familiar hum of machinery and the low murmur of voices. Inside, his team of grad students and researchers bustled around the main console, their excitement palpable.

"Morning, boss!" Greg called from a workstation, grinning as usual.

"Morning," Nathan replied, slinging his bag onto a chair and making a beeline for the centrepiece of the lab.

The fusion reactor stood in the middle of the room like a futuristic monument, its sleek design gleaming under the bright lab lights. Four towering emitters curved gracefully around the central containment chamber.

Nathan couldn't help but smile. It still looks exactly like the one from Spider-Man, he thought, the resemblance to Doc Ock's device as clear as ever. Not that anyone was going to call him out on it—not when no one in this universe had ever heard of Marvel Comics.

"You ready for this?" Greg asked, stepping up beside him, practically bouncing on his heels.

"Always," Nathan said, his tone calm despite the excitement bubbling under the surface. "Is everything set?"

"Systems are green across the board," Greg said, holding up a clipboard filled with diagnostic readouts. "Emitters charged, containment field stable was stable during the tests, fuel's loaded. Just waiting for you to press the button."

That was good to hear. Nathan had been especially careful when designing the electromagnetic containment field considering what happened in the movie. He turned to the rest of the team. "Alright, everyone, this is it. Goggles on, positions ready."

A chorus of affirmatives rippled through the room as the team donned their safety gear and took their places at various consoles. Nathan adjusted his own goggles, stepping up to the central control panel.

With a deep breath, he entered the activation sequence. The room filled with a low hum that steadily rose in pitch, vibrating in his chest as the emitters powered up.

One by one, the plasma arcs came to life, electric blue light spilling into the room. Inside the array, the small pellet of deuterium-tritium fuel began to shimmer, its surface reacting to the plasma bombardment.

Nathan's fingers hovered over the final switch. He hesitated for just a moment, then flipped it.

The chamber exploded with light, a blinding burst that made the room feel like the surface of the sun. A high-pitched whine filled the air as the fuel ignited, transforming into a miniature star.

The sun expanded to about a meter across before stabilizing, its golden glow pulsing steadily. The hum of the reactor deepened into a rhythmic thrum, almost like a heartbeat.

The team stared in awe, the moment hanging in perfect silence. Then Greg broke it.

"Yes!" he shouted, throwing his arms in the air. The rest of the team erupted into cheers and applause, their excitement spilling over like champagne from a shaken bottle.

Nathan allowed himself a rare moment of satisfaction as he watched the star blaze in its containment chamber. Years of work, mostly organizing everyone else and requisitioning resources, had led to this—a sustained, controlled fusion reaction.

"We did it!" Greg exclaimed, clapping Nathan on the shoulder. "The first true fusion reactor! Do you realize what this means? Clean energy for the entire planet!"

Nathan smiled faintly, but his mind had already leapt ahead. Too bad this will be outdated in a couple of years. Wait until you see the ARC Reactor.

Greg kept talking, his excitement unchecked. "This is going to change everything. No more fossil fuels, no more nuclear waste—just clean, unlimited energy!"

Nathan nodded absently, his focus drifting to the diagnostics scrolling across the monitors. Everything looked stable—no anomalies, no fluctuations in the containment field. It was perfect.

"This is just the beginning," Nathan said, his voice low but firm. "Scaling this up for mass production will take time, but we're on the right track."

Greg grinned. "You're too modest, boss. You just built a star."

Nathan chuckled, stepping back from the console as the team continued to monitor the reactor. He glanced at his watch, noting the time. Right on schedule.

"Alright," he called to the room. "Keep an eye on the readings. I want a full report on stability and output by the end of the day. Let's make sure this thing is as flawless as it looks."

The team nodded, their excitement tempered only slightly as they got back to work.

Nathan stayed near the reactor for a moment longer, the miniature sun casting a warm glow on his face. He couldn't help but feel a flicker of pride, though it was tempered by the knowledge of what came next.

Jessica may have won the bet, he thought with a smirk, but let's see her top this.

Blue Hall, Stockholm City Hall, Stockholm, Sweden
December 10, 2005

The Blue Hall was resplendent, the grandeur of its columns and arches illuminated by soft lights. The room was filled with the hum of low conversation and the occasional clink of fine glassware from the long tables. These tables were filled with hundreds of finely dressed people for the white-tie event. It was a gathering of the world's most accomplished and influential figures: scientists, diplomats, writers, politicians, titans of industry, and Sweden's royal family. Among them were the Nobel Laureates, seated with their families and distinguished guests.

Nathan Greene sat patiently at his assigned table, his tailored black suit perfectly fitting his small frame. He exuded a quiet confidence, though the magnitude of the occasion was not lost on him. He glanced at the stage at the far end of the hall, where he would soon speak. The weight of expectation hung in the air, but he remained calm.

A fanfare of trumpets echoed through the hall, drawing all attention to the stage. The toastmaster stepped forward, his voice carrying across the vast room. "It is a great honour to introduce the Nobel Laureate in Physics, Mr. Nathan Greene."

The room filled with polite applause as Nathan stood. He adjusted his white bowtie and walked toward the stage with measured steps, flanked by an escort who led him to the podium. He reached it, and as the applause subsided, he began.

"Your Majesties, esteemed members of the Nobel Committee, distinguished guests, and my fellow laureates," Nathan said, his voice clear and steady. "I am deeply honoured to stand before you tonight, though I must address something at the outset. My nomination—and indeed my win—has been met with some controversy. The reason, of course, lies in my enhanced intelligence, a gift of my super-abled nature."

A ripple of murmurs swept through the audience. Nathan continued, his tone thoughtful.

"While I understand the concern, I'd like to begin by acknowledging the countless great minds who came before me. Whatever advantages my abilities may grant me, the far greater part of my work has been built upon foundations laid by those who have dedicated their lives to the pursuit of knowledge. If I had been born a thousand, or even a hundred, years ago, I would have had far less to build upon."

He paused, scanning the room before offering a slight smile.

"It is those who came before us—Newton, Curie, Einstein, Tesla, Turing, and so many more—who deserve our gratitude. Their discoveries, their failures, their perseverance—they are the reason we are able to push the boundaries of what is possible today. Science is not the work of one individual; it is a relay race, each generation passing the baton to the next."

The room was silent, enraptured by his words. Nathan shifted slightly, his voice softening.

"I am often asked how I feel about my abilities—many in this room see my intelligence and understand its value, but I have also had others who asked whether I envy those with flashier powers. Whether I would like to bend metal with my bare hands, to fly through the sky under my own power, or to see through walls. While many of you may look upon me with envy, many others look upon me with pity. Let me say that I am not to be envied or pitied, and I would not trade my gift for anything else. Because, in a way, intelligence is the first superpower humanity ever had."

He leaned slightly forward, his tone growing impassioned.

"Long before there were super-abled individuals, humanity used its mind to master fire, agriculture, mathematics, architecture, and industry. It was intelligence that allowed us to understand the forces of nature and bend them to our will. Intelligence lit up the night, raised great monuments, and even sent us flying through the skies. It is the ability to learn, to innovate, and to pass on knowledge that has always set humanity apart."

Nathan's gaze swept across the room, meeting the eyes of diplomats and royalty, of scientists and dreamers.

"My intelligence," he continued, "is merely an extension of this shared gift—a product of humanity's innate capacity to wonder, to solve, and to grow. I may not be able to save someone from a burning building or fight crime in the streets, but I believe this power can be used to help others in ways that matter deeply. To discover solutions, to light a path forward—that is how I hope to contribute."

His voice grew resolute, echoing with conviction. "With great power comes great responsibility."

Many heads nodded at the unfamiliar phrase, unfamiliar in this world at least. Uncle Ben for the win! Nathan thought to himself.

"Ultimately, I believe this is what the Nobel Prize stands for: the use of one's abilities, whatever they may be, to move humanity forward. It is a call to serve—not for glory, but for progress."

Nathan paused, letting the weight of his words settle before offering a humble bow. "Thank you."

The room erupted into applause, a standing ovation building as Nathan stepped back from the podium. The sound of clapping filled the Blue Hall, resonating with a sense of shared hope and inspiration.

Nathan descended the steps, walking back to his seat where his family and friends waited. He spotted Jessica and her parents, the Bradleys, clapping alongside his own parents, their expressions beaming with pride.

As he sat down, Jessica leaned over, her smirk unmistakable. "Not bad. You almost sounded humble for once."

Nathan chuckled, shaking his head. "Enjoy it while it lasts."

The applause continued, but Nathan allowed himself a rare moment of satisfaction. Tonight was a victory not just for him, but for the idea that humanity—super-abled or not—could achieve greatness together.

A/N: Jessica won the bet btw. Nathan thought he could win with Tony Stark's ability to annoy people. He was wrong to bet against the master of cold reading and mental manipulation.

A/N 2: Next chapter should be more about setting up the company with occasional flashes of everyday life, and Jessica starting to dominate the market. It will still be mostly time skips.