A/N: THE CHAPTER HAS BEEN UPDATED, SEE THE ENDING

Chapter 11 - Rising Star

Greene Industries Office, Los Angeles
March 12, 2012

The hum of treadmills and the clang of weights filled the employee gym. A fifteen-year-old Nathan Greene stood by the sidelines, wiping sweat from his brow with a towel. His breathing was heavy, his muscles aching after a particularly gruelling self-defence training session. A half-empty water bottle rested in his hand.

Nathan had been tossed, pinned, and flipped more times than he cared to count during the last hour. Yet, his determination to master the techniques showed in his clenched jaw and the gleam of persistence in his eyes.

"Oi, not bad for a scrawny little fuck like you!" a gruff voice called out, laced with a thick Cockney accent.

Nathan looked up to see Billy Butcher, Greene Industries' latest training instructor, leaning against the ropes of a boxing ring, his arms crossed over his broad chest. The man was dressed in a black muscle shirt and cargo shorts, his dark eyes glinting with amusement.

"Didn't think you'd last more than five bloody minutes, to be honest," Billy added, a crooked grin spreading across his face. "But you held yer own better than some of the daft cunts working here."

Nathan waved him off, his tone dry. "Yeah, thanks for the glowing review, Billy. I'll be sure to frame it."

Billy barked a laugh, pushing off the ropes and sauntering over. "Cheeky little bastard, ain't ya? Careful, or I'll knock you on your arse again. Can't let you get too cocky."

Nathan smirked, taking another swig of water. "Guess I should be flattered, then."

"Flattered? Fuck no. Proud, maybe," Billy said, tilting his head as he gave Nathan a once-over. "You've got guts, kid. More'n I can say for some of the overpaid wankers I've had to train here. You're the only one that doesn't complain about fightin me."

Nathan opened his mouth to respond, but Billy waved him off.

"Oh, sure. You bitch and moan after, but you never try to talk your way out of it."

Nathan rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward. "Well, as long as you're impressed."

Billy clapped a hand on Nathan's shoulder, the force of it nearly making the teenager stagger. "Don't get too fucking smug, Greene. I'll still wipe the floor with ya next session. Now, fuck off to the showers before you start stinkin' up the place."

Nathan laughed, shaking his head as he grabbed his gym bag. "See you tomorrow, Billy."

As Nathan headed for the locker rooms, Billy watched him go, muttering under his breath, "Clever little fucker, that one. Bit too smart for his own good sometimes, but he'll do just fine."

Nathan's Lab, Malibu, California
May 22, 2012

Nathan stepped into his subterranean lab. The walls were lined with modular workstations, each outfitted with advanced equipment: 3D printers, spectrometers, and an array of engineering tools that made the space look more like the love child of a NASA facility and a Silicon Valley startup. Overhead, an intricate network of recessed LED lights bathed the room in a soft, white glow.

As the security door slid shut behind him, a synthesized voice with a crisp British accent greeted him.

"Good afternoon, Sir."

Nathan smiled, glancing toward a speaker system embedded into the ceiling. "Afternoon, A.L.A.N. What's on the agenda today?"

A.L.A.N. (Autonomous Learning Adaptive Network), named after the father of digital computing Alan Turing, replied with a hint of programmed enthusiasm. "Your last simulation batch is at 97% completion. And might I remind you, sir, that your meeting begins in precisely seventeen seconds."

Nathan approached the center of the room, where a large, glass-topped table dominated the space. "Thanks, A.L.A.N. I almost forgot. Well, almost."

"Indeed," A.L.A.N. replied. "Statistically, you 'almost forgetting' is unlikely, given your usual punctuality. Would you like me to prepare a summary of your presentation?"

"Not yet," Nathan said, tapping the glass surface of the table. The smart glass sprang to life, a luminous blue glow spreading outward as the interface appeared. He swiped through a few menus, pulling up a secure chat application.

"Connecting to the conference call," A.L.A.N. announced.

As the system synced, the table's glass surface displayed a grid of video feeds. One by one, faces materialized: Grace Mallory's steely gaze, Jessica Bradley's composed expression, and two high-ranking members of the Department of Defense—the Chief of the Air Force, General Aaron Laskey, and Dr. Nick Harrison, the head of DARPA.

"Good afternoon, everyone," Nathan said, leaning casually on the edge of the table.

Mallory nodded. "Nathan."

"Mr. Greene," General Laskey said, his tone gruff but respectful. "Impressive setup you've got there. Makes my Pentagon office look like a broom closet."

Nathan chuckled lightly. "Glad you approve, General. This table doubles as a ping-pong surface, but I doubt you'd want to see my forehand."

Jessica shot him a dry look from her feed. "Let's stay on task, Nathan."

"Right," he replied, swiping across the surface to bring up a live map of the United States and sharing his screen. The map displayed an array of red dots, each representing a supe tracked using Vought's RFID tags. He'd managed to hack into the system years ago, but no longer needed to rely on their satellites. "As you can see, the latest satellite deployment has been a success. We now have total coverage across the continental United States, with global coverage on track by the end of next year."

Dr. Harrison leaned forward in his feed, eyes scanning the map. "Impressive. And this data feeds directly into the system we discussed for early threat detection?"

Nathan nodded. "Yes. Any unusual movement patterns, congregations, or incidents involving supes will trigger alerts. The satellites are equipped with both optical and infrared imaging, so we can cross-reference physical activity with existing metadata. It's not perfect, but it's a strong start."

General Laskey grunted. "Good. We're going to need it if Vought's antics keep escalating. I trust the data security on this system is airtight?"

"Quantum encryption," Jessica cut in. "Even if someone tried, they'd be wasting decades, maybe even centuries, cracking it."

Mallory's voice was clipped but approving. "This is the kind of oversight we've needed for years. Now, the question is: how do we use it without tipping Vought off?"

Nathan straightened. "That's where our discretion comes in. For now, this data is for internal monitoring and government use only. No intervention, only observation. If we play our cards right, Vought won't even know we're watching."

Mallory's sharp nod was the closest she came to smiling. "Good. Let's keep it that way."

Mallory leaned back slightly. "Speaking of the satellites, how are your other extraterrestrial operations going?"

Nathan glanced at Jessica's video feed. She nodded subtly, giving him the floor.

"The space station construction is on track," Nathan began. "It's modular, so we're assembling it piece by piece in low Earth orbit. With the latest amendments to the Outer Space Treaty, we've cleared the way for private enterprises to operate in space. That's been key. Now we don't have to tiptoe around outdated restrictions."

Jessica jumped in smoothly. "The helium mining operation on the moon is progressing well too. The initial infrastructure is in place, and we're moving toward scaling up extraction. The biggest hurdle for space operations was always the cost of getting anything up there, but thanks to repulsor technology, that's become negligible."

Dr. Herrison from DARPA raised an eyebrow. "That's for sure, you cut NASA's operating costs by several million a year. But what about the deeper missions? Mars? Enceladus?"

Nathan swiped across the table, bringing up a split-screen display of satellite images and data feeds. "We've sent probes to both. Mars is showing promising lithium deposits and Enceladus... well, the results are early, but the potential there is staggering."

General Laskey sounded intrigued, "Lithium? That could ease the pressure on the electronics supply chain. The Pentagon's been fighting tooth and nail to reduce our reliance on imports."

"That's the goal," Jessica said. "Mars mining operations are slated to begin within two years. Fusion-powered engines have cut the travel time to just a few days, maybe a week at most. But low gravity remains our biggest challenge. It wreaks havoc on the human body over time."

Jessica's tone turned clinical as she continued. "We're actively developing treatments to counteract the loss of bone density and muscle mass. There are two main avenues: one involves a synthetic protein that stimulates muscle growth, and the other uses specially grown coral to replace and reinforce bone tissue. I should have working prototypes for both within the month."

Laskey nodded, visibly impressed. "Good work, Bradley. I'll get in touch with NASA and start lining up candidates for the first Mars mission. Let's make sure they're ready when your timeline hits."

Nathan smirked faintly. "Careful, General. You'll have NASA calling me every day for updates."

Laskey chuckled, his gruff demeanour softening for a moment. "Wouldn't be the first time."

Nathan swiped across the table again, pulling up a detailed schematic of the latest ARC Reactor iteration. The screen glowed softly as he explained to the group, "I've been working on a potential replacement for palladium as the core material. If it pans out, it could improve power output significantly and eliminate our dependency on palladium altogether."

General Laskey straightened in his chair, his tone brimming with interest. "How much of an increase are we talking about?"

Nathan nodded but kept his expression neutral. "Enough to power Project Atlas. Don't build the reactors until I've confirmed the new material is viable."

Laskey frowned slightly but ultimately nodded. "Understood, Mr. Greene. Keep me in the loop when you're ready to share more."

Jessica leaned back slightly, her tone pragmatic. "We'll keep the DoD updated as soon as it's appropriate. In the meantime, let's wrap up today's agenda."

The meeting began to wind down, the attendees exchanging parting words.

Just before they did though, Nathan said, "Mallory, could you stay for a bit? Jessica and I have something we'd like to talk about."

Dr. Harrison had already signed off, but Laskey paused his brow furrowing. "Mallory, if there's something I should know about, now's the time to say it."

Mallory's eyes flicked to Nathan and Jessica, who both shook their heads firmly.

"It's better if you don't," Nathan said bluntly.

Jessica added, "Some things are on a need-to-know basis. Trust us on this one, General."

With a reluctant sigh, Laskey disconnected.

Nathan turned his attention to Mallory, his tone quieter but more deliberate. "Grace, we need to talk about something… sensitive."

Mallory's sharp gaze fixed on him. "Go on."

Nathan swiped across the table again, bringing up an image of a microscopic sample. "This is a sample of my blood. You see the blue flecks?"

Mallory leaned forward, her expression unreadable. "What am I looking at?"

"I noticed these years ago while examining my blood," Nathan explained. "I still don't really know what they are, but after years of testing and comparing notes with Jessica…" He gestured to Jessica, who brought up another slide.

"This is my blood," Jessica said, the screen now displaying a similar image, identical blue specks scattered throughout. "Same thing."

Mallory's voice was measured but laced with curiosity. "What are they?"

Nathan sighed. "We don't know for sure. We've tried isolating and refining the material, but every attempt has been… inconclusive. Whatever it is, it's incredibly complex and seems to be deeply integrated into our biology."

"And if you remove it?" Mallory asked.

Jessica's expression turned grim. "Given the hypothesis that it's tied to our intelligence—or possibly even our powers—removing it could be catastrophic. For now, it stays put."

Mallory nodded slowly, conceding the point. "So, what's your lead?"

Jessica tapped the screen, pulling up a map dotted with hospital locations across the United States. "We did some digging into hospitals affiliated with Vought. Specifically, the ones we were both born in and where we had regular medical checkups growing up. There's a pattern."

Nathan took over. "These hospitals receive regular deliveries from Samaritan's Embrace. On the surface, it looks like charitable donations—medications, equipment, supplies—but the deliveries are made in armoured trucks with heavily armed guards. A bit excessive for a charity."

Mallory's brow furrowed. "Samaritan's Embrace. That's Ezekiel's organization now, isn't it? After Oh Father was booted?"

"Exactly," Jessica confirmed. "Though let's be real—Ezekiel's just a puppet. Vought pulls the strings."

Nathan leaned forward, his tone serious. "We suspect Samaritan's Embrace is moving something more than medical supplies. And whatever it is might be tied to the blue flecks in our blood."

Mallory's gaze hardened. "What do you need from me?"

Nathan hesitated, then asked carefully, "How would you feel about a heist?"

A Few Weeks Later

Nathan stared at the open case on the table, its interior lined with foam cushioning twelve pristine vials filled with a shimmering blue liquid. He leaned on the table's edge, arms crossed, a frown etched across his face.

Mallory stood beside him, one hand in her jacket pocket, the other resting lightly on the table. She raised an eyebrow. "You look like someone pissed in your cereal, Greene. What's the problem?"

Nathan sighed, gesturing at the case. "I was hoping for… more. You know, gadgets, subterfuge, maybe even a car chase or two. The CIA didn't even call me. You just handed me the box like it was a fucking FedEx delivery."

Mallory snorted, her lips twitching into a rare smirk. "Life isn't a Bond film, kid. We watched the locations, created fake vials, staged a crash for one of their armoured trucks, and swapped the real ones with the shattered fakes. Left enough of the real vials behind to make it look legit. Vought's none the wiser."

Nathan exhaled heavily and shook his head. "Fine. I'll get to work."

Mallory nodded, turning toward the exit. "Good. Let me know if you figure out anything useful. Don't blow yourself up in the meantime."

As the door hissed shut behind her, Nathan turned to the room's voice-activated AI. "A.L.A.N., warm up the equipment."

"Right away, sir," A.L.A.N. replied.

A Few Days Later

Nathan hunched over his workbench, glaring at his chemical analyzer. It hummed softly, displaying a readout of the compound's composition. Most of the ingredients were easy to identify—exotic proteins, enzymes, and what seemed to be modified nucleotides. However, something kept tripping up his analysis.

"It's like this shit is made of magic," Nathan muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "A.L.A.N., prepare the chromatography unit. I'm going to have to separate the compound into its base components manually."

"Understood, sir. I'll also ready the distillation and electrolysis apparatus."

Nathan nodded, determination setting his jaw. "I just hope we have enough of this stuff to work with."

A Few Days Later

Nathan sat slumped at his workstation, staring at the results on his monitor. His head rested in his hands, and a laugh bubbled up in his throat—half disbelief, half incredulity. He rubbed his eyes and stared at the data again as if expecting it to change.

"Fucking joke," he whispered. "But… it explains everything."

The blue liquid's secret ingredient wasn't just a chemical—it was an element.

Nathan leaned back in his chair, his mind reeling. The pieces clicked together in his head. The mutations, the enhanced strength and durability, the weakness to high frequencies, and the blue hue—it all made sense. Compound V was made with Vibranium.

He let his head fall forward, smacking it lightly against the desk. A.L.A.N.'s voice broke the silence. "Sir, is everything alright?"

Nathan groaned against the desk. "No, A.L.A.N., it's not alright. It's stupid. V for Vibranium. Of course. How fucking original."

A.L.A.N. hesitated. "Shall I prepare tea, sir? That often seems to calm you."

Nathan laughed bitterly, sitting upright. "Tea won't fix this. But thanks." He swivelled his chair to face the equipment. "Alright. Back to work. If I'm right, Vibranium might be the catalyst, but it's not the whole story. There's no way this shit works without the other compounds."

He paused, his thoughts spiralling. Vibranium exists in this universe. The implications hit him like a freight train. If he could find a source of Vibranium, the possibilities were limitless—far beyond Compound V.

His laughter turned maniacal, echoing off the lab's sterile walls. A.L.A.N. interrupted cautiously. "Sir, are you quite sure you're alright?"

Nathan took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. "I'm fine, A.L.A.N. Just… processing."

As he returned to the task at hand, his mind buzzed with questions. How was Vought sourcing Vibranium? Were they mining it somewhere unknown? And most importantly, could he get his hands on enough of it to harness its full potential?

He smirked faintly. "This is going to be interesting."

Los Angeles Convention Centre, California
August 10th, 2013

The air inside the convention centre buzzed with excitement, a blend of pop music blaring over speakers, the murmur of the crowd, and the sharp click of cameras snapping pictures. Spotlights swept across the grand stage, illuminating a row of teenage starlets dressed in glittering costumes, their smiles dazzling but visibly strained as the competition commentator's voice boomed over the PA system.

"And the winner of this year's Miss Teen Hero Pageant… none other than the radiant Starlight!"

The applause was thunderous, though Nathan Greene, standing off to the side, caught the subtle cracks in the contestants' perfectly polished facades. As Starlight stepped forward, her golden locks catching the light, envy flickered in the eyes of her peers. Hyperion, standing a few places down the line, glared openly at Starlight's back, her fiery hair betraying her mood with small bursts of flame that danced along her scalp. A few others glanced at one another before schooling their expressions into ones of feigned joy, plastering on supportive smiles as Starlight accepted her sash.

Nathan watched it all, his sharp gaze catching every flicker of resentment, every fleeting glare quickly masked by forced cheer. They're barely holding it together. He couldn't blame them. Starlight's victory was practically a foregone conclusion, and no one liked losing, especially in front of a crowd this size.

Starlight stepped forward, her smile bright enough to rival the stage lights, and waved at the cheering audience. "Thank you so much!" she called, her voice voice projecting genuine gratitude. Nathan, however, caught the slight stiffness in her posture, the weight of expectations pressing down on her shoulders. She accepted her sash, draped delicately across her white and gold costume, and gave one last wave before gliding offstage to the sound of deafening applause.

Nathan adjusted his tie, a sleek black number that complemented his bespoke Saville Row suit. At sixteen, he had grown into his height, standing just a shade over six feet, his frame lean and athletic. His dark brown hair was neatly styled, and his handsome face drew attention wherever he went.

He stepped onto the stage with easy confidence, the applause softening as the crowd shifted their focus. The pageant contestants, still lingering in a neat line, turned to watch him, their gazes assessing. Nathan didn't miss the way a few of them smiled coyly, their eyes lingering a bit too long on his tailored suit and polished shoes.

Great, here we go, he thought wryly, catching a wink from a girl with electric-blue streaks in her hair. Another, a petite blonde with telekinetic powers if he remembered correctly, sent him an almost cartoonish "come hither" look, complete with a not-at-all-subtle bite of her lip. Nathan suppressed the urge to cringe.

While he wasn't oblivious to his appearance—he knew he looked good—he was acutely aware of what most of them were truly interested in: his money and fame. Greene Industries wasn't just a company; it was a powerhouse, a brand synonymous with cutting-edge technology and groundbreaking scientific achievements. Add in the fact that Nathan was the youngest CEO on record, and his fame far exceeded that of the teenage superheroes lined up on stage.

But their attention made him uncomfortable. Sure, Tony Stark's playboy antics had been legendary, but they'd always involved adults—consenting, often equally famous, and very much of age. These kids might technically be his age now, but Nathan's mind held the combined experiences of two adult men. The idea of pursuing anything here felt not only wrong but downright predatory.

Notably, Starlight was not one of the ones sending him obvious looks. She just smiled politely. Nathan was glad about that.

Besides, Vought's starlets weren't just teenagers; they were manufactured teenagers, shaped and moulded by a corporation that saw them as products first and people second. Their smiles were practiced, their winks calculated, and their sultry gazes likely taught during some twisted form of media training. It was manipulation built on top of manipulation. Engaging with them on that level would feel like cheating in the worst way possible.

I'll wait, he resolved silently. For now, I'll play nice, but I'm not "making friends" until we're all at least eighteen. The thought made him smirk, though he quickly wiped the expression off his face as he reached the center of the stage.

The commentator, a grinning man in a sharp tuxedo, extended a hand toward him. "Ladies and gentlemen, let's give a warm welcome to Nathan Greene, the genius behind Greene Industries and Vought's co-sponsor for today's event!"

Polite applause rippled through the crowd as Nathan stepped forward. He took the microphone from the commentator, his dark eyes sweeping over the audience and the contestants still lined up behind him. He could feel their stares, some curious, some excited, but he pushed it aside with a charming smile.

"Thank you, everyone," Nathan began, his voice calm but commanding, honed from years of public speaking. "It's truly an honour to be here today, celebrating the incredible talents of our next generation of heroes. Let's hear it one more time for our lovely contestants."

The applause swelled, punctuated by a few whoops and cheers. Nathan let the noise settle before continuing, his tone taking on a playful edge.

"Now, I know what you're all thinking," he said, leaning slightly toward the microphone. "Why is Nathan Greene, billionaire tech mogul and youngest CEO in history, standing here at a teenage superhero pageant? And let's not pretend we haven't all read the headlines. 'Greene to woo Vought's starlets?'" He winked, earning a ripple of laughter from the audience and a few giggles from the contestants. "Well, let me assure you, that's not the reason I'm here. Well… not the only reason."

The crowd laughed, and even the commentator chuckled nervously, glancing toward the Vought employees seated near the front. Nathan straightened, his smile softening.

"In truth, I'm here because I believe in investing in the future. This isn't just about who can strike the best pose or give the most dazzling smile. It's about recognizing potential talent and helping it blossom. To that end, I made something new that I think you'll like. That's why Greene Industries didn't just sponsor this event—we built it."

A murmur rippled through the crowd, and Nathan could see confusion flicker across the commentator's face. The Vought employees whispered urgently among themselves, their smiles tightening.

Nathan gestured toward the stage beneath his feet. "And I mean that literally. This stage you're all looking at, the one our incredible contestants are standing on, was designed and constructed by my team at Greene Industries. It's more than just a platform. It's a glimpse of what the future of technology can do."

The commentator stepped forward, his grin faltering slightly. "Uh, Nathan, I don't believe that was in the program—"

Nathan held up a hand, silencing him with an easy smile. "Trust me, you're going to want to step back for this. Just a little. Safety first."

The commentator hesitated but retreated a few paces. Nathan turned back to the audience, his voice steady. "Ladies and gentlemen, what you're about to see is the culmination of years of research, design, and passion. A little preview, if you will, of what Greene Industries has been working on behind the scenes. A.L.A.N., are we ready?"

From the overhead speakers, A.L.A.N.'s crisp British accent responded, "All systems nominal, sir. Proceed at your discretion."

Nathan nodded and took a step forward, positioning himself over the Greene Industries logo embedded at the center of the stage. He glanced at the commentator and passed him back the microphone. "You might want to hold onto that."

As Nathan stood on the logo, the stage beneath him began to hum softly. The floor split into sections, retracting and folding downward to reveal a hidden compartment. Long robotic arms emerged, sleek and precise, each holding components of gleaming metal. The overhead screens flickered to life, displaying live feeds from the cameras mounted on the robotic arms, zooming in on the intricate mechanisms.

The crowd gasped in unison as the arms began their work. One by one, the metal pieces were fitted to Nathan's body, snapping into place with fluid precision. Panels slid across his arms, his chest, and his legs, forming an advanced suit of armour that gleamed under the stage lights. The cameras captured every detail, broadcasting close-ups of the assembly process onto the massive screens for all to see.

Vought Tower, New York City

In her office in Vought Tower, Madelyn Stillwell stood up from behind her desk, her eyes fixed on the live broadcast playing across the wall-mounted screens. Her jaw tightened as she watched the robotic arms assemble Nathan's armour, the cameras panning over the intricate details of the suit.

"What the hell is he doing?" she demanded, her voice sharp. She turned to her assistant, who was frantically typing on a tablet. "I thought we controlled every aspect of this event. Why wasn't I informed about this?"

"I—I don't know, ma'am," the assistant stammered, sweat beading on his forehead. "We weren't briefed on anything like this. It's… it's not in the schedule."

Madelyn's lips pressed into a thin line as she turned back to the screen. Nathan, now encased in the completed suit, stepped forward, the panels of the stage closing seamlessly behind him. The suit gleamed, a perfect fusion of form and function, as Nathan spread his arms slightly, addressing the stunned crowd.

Madelyn's voice dropped to a low growl. "Find out what he's up to. Now."

Los Angeles Convention Centre, California

Back at the convention centre, Nathan stood at the edge of the stage, his voice amplified by the suit's built-in systems. "This isn't just technology. It's a vision of what's possible when we dare to dream bigger when we push the boundaries of what we think we can achieve. This is what Greene Industries stands for."

Nathan smiled faintly. Let them try to keep up.

The crowd applauded loudly, drowning out even the music playing in the background. Nathan stood at the center of the stage, encased in his gleaming armour, the intricate lines of the suit reflecting the bright spotlights. The contestants, now little more than silhouettes at the edge of the stage, watched with slack-jawed amazement.

Nathan raised a hand, palm outward, and the crowd gradually quieted. The suit's external speakers amplified his voice, making it crisp and clear over the ambient noise.

"This suit," Nathan began, gesturing to his chest, "can make the impossible possible. It provides enhanced strength and durability. It can withstand a tank shell with the occupant only suffering minor bruises."

He touched the glowing circle at the center of his chest, the ARC reactor embedded within the suit shining with a bright white light. "At the heart of it is an improved version of the ARC reactor. It's cleaner, more efficient, and capable of producing more power than anything you've ever seen."

The audience began applauding again, but Nathan raised a hand, silencing them with an almost imperceptible motion. "But this suit isn't just about power. It's about possibility… and something else I've always wanted to try."

A ripple of murmurs passed through the crowd. Nathan tilted his head slightly, activating the internal comms. "A.L.A.N., are we ready for the next phase?"

From within the helmet, A.L.A.N.'s voice responded smoothly, "The roof is prepared, sir. Opening sequence initiated."

Nathan looked up, and as if on cue, the audience followed his gaze. Above them, the ceiling of the convention centre began to retract, massive panels sliding away with a deep rumble. Sunlight poured into the venue, casting long beams across the stage and dazzling the audience. The blue sky stretched out above them, cloudless and endless.

Nathan stepped forward, spreading his arms and legs to his sides. "What you're about to see," he said, his voice carrying a note of excitement, "is something I'm sure we've all dreamed about since we were kids."

A high-pitched whine emerged from the suit as the repulsor engines embedded in his palms and under his feet roared to life. The bright glow of the ARC reactor in his chest was mirrored by the brilliant white light now emanating from the thrusters. The noise rose to a higher octave, and slowly, Nathan began to lift off the ground.

Gasps and cheers came from the audience as he hovered above the stage. Some of the contestants shielded their eyes, while others stood frozen in awe. Hyperion's fiery hair flared in agitation, but she couldn't hide her astonishment.

Nathan ascended higher, his movements smooth and controlled as he adjusted the output of the engines. "This isn't just a suit," he said, his voice booming over the speakers. "It's a symbol of what's possible when we stop asking 'why' and start asking 'why not.'"

The thrusters flared brighter, and Nathan shot upward, rising through the open roof. The crowd craned their necks to follow him, but he quickly disappeared from view. A moment of stunned silence followed, broken only by the sound of the engines fading into the distance.

Then, the overhead screens flickered. The live feed changed, showing a split-screen view: on one side, Nathan's grinning face inside the helmet; on the other, the breathtaking view of Los Angeles from high above the city.

The crowd gasped. Then Nathan's voice came through the speakers again, tinged with exhilaration. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the city of angels!"

The camera panned, offering a sweeping view of the skyline, the Pacific Ocean glittering in the distance. Nathan spun in a controlled arc, his suit responding with perfect precision.

Vought Tower, New York City

In her office, Madelyn Stillwell's expression was confused. She wasn't sure what to make of this at all, but she smelled opportunity.

Los Angeles Skyline, California

Nathan soared above the sprawling cityscape, his suit's repulsors humming steadily as he executed smooth turns and loops, the thrusters adjusting seamlessly to his commands. The live feed from his helmet displayed a split-screen: on one side, his exhilarated face, the corners of his mouth pulled into an uncontainable grin; on the other, breathtaking views of Los Angeles bathed in sunlight.

The audience in the convention centre and around the world watched in awe as another feed came online, this one from one of Greene Industries' satellites. The overhead screen switched to a wide-angle view of Nathan, a metallic dot against the backdrop of the Pacific Ocean, then zoomed in as he twisted and turned in the air.

Inside his helmet, A.L.A.N.'s voice came through clearly. "Sir, I've activated Satellite G-42. The audience has a clear view of your position. All systems are operating within expected parameters."

"Perfect," Nathan replied, adjusting his trajectory with a subtle tilt of his wrist. The suit responded instantly, banking smoothly into a wide arc.

As he levelled off, a faint sound caught his attention. It was distant at first, but quickly grew louder—the distinct roar of jet engines. The suit's HUD confirmed the source: two F-16 fighter jets rapidly closing in on his position.

Nathan turned his head, and the PoV feed displayed the sharp silhouettes of the jets against the blue sky. He addressed the audience through the suit's external speakers, his tone lighthearted. "Looks like we've got company, folks. Let me introduce you to the U.S. Air Force. I scheduled a little rendezvous with them to make this flight a bit more interesting. Give it up for our boys in green."

The crowd erupted in cheers and laughter as the fighter jets closed the distance, their graceful movements visible on both the satellite and helmet feeds. Nathan activated the suit's comms system, patching directly into the jets' radios.

"Hey, guys," Nathan said, his tone casual. "What's up?"

A chuckle came through the comms, followed by a crisp voice. "Greene, we're ready for the test flight. Just say the word."

Nathan's grin widened. "You got it. Let's show them what we can do."

The jets adjusted their formation, flanking Nathan on either side. The crowd back at the convention centre watched in stunned silence as the live feed showed the three figures weaving through the air like dancers. Nathan and the jets performed coordinated barrel rolls, loops, and tight turns, their movements synchronized with precision that bordered on art.

"Alright, let's spice things up," Nathan said into the comms. "Tag, you're it."

One of the jets peeled off sharply, accelerating toward Nathan. He responded instantly, diving into a steep descent before pulling up into a tight loop. The PoV feed showed the ocean rushing toward him before the suit's thrusters flared, sending him soaring back up, the jet in hot pursuit.

The second jet joined the chase, the three of them performing a dazzling display of aerial acrobatics that had the crowd on their feet. Nathan's laughter rang out through the speakers. "This is better than any theme park ride!"

The chase carried them out over the ocean, the brilliant blue waters sparkling beneath them. Nathan signalled for a brief pause, hovering between the two jets. "Alright, gentlemen. I think it's time we kick it up a notch. Ready to go supersonic?"

The lead pilot's voice came through the comms, steady and amused. "You sure your suit can handle it, Greene?"

Nathan smirked, the confidence in his voice unmistakable. "Oh, I'm sure. Let's do this."

The jets angled their noses upward, their engines roaring as they climbed higher. Nathan adjusted his suit's settings, the HUD displaying a countdown as the thrusters increased power. The feed from his helmet showed the ocean disappearing beneath them as they climbed toward the stratosphere.

The lead pilot's voice came over the comms again. "On my mark. Three… two… one… mark!"

Nathan and the jets accelerated in unison, the air around them rippling as they broke the sound barrier. The sonic booms echoed over the ocean, captured in stunning clarity by the satellite feed. The crowd clamoured wild applause, their cheers almost drowning out the sound of the booms.

Nathan's PoV feed showed the curved horizon as he rocketed forward, his suit handling the stress flawlessly. He couldn't help but laugh, the sheer exhilaration of the moment washing over him. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is what it feels like to fly!"

The jets flanked him once more, the three of them streaking across the sky like comets. Nathan performed a series of rolls and loops, the live feeds capturing every maneuver. Back at the convention centre, the audience was riveted, their eyes glued to the screens as Nathan and the jets danced across the heavens.

After several minutes of supersonic flight, Nathan slowed his pace, the jets falling back into formation beside him. "Alright, boys. I think that's enough showing off for one day. Let's head back."

The pilots acknowledged, and the trio began their descent, the crowd's applause still echoing in Nathan's ears as he made his way back toward the city.

Los Angeles Convention Centre, California

Nathan descended gracefully, the soft hum of his repulsors growing quieter as he approached the stage. Above him, the two fighter jets peeled off, banking sharply as they headed back toward base, their engines roaring a farewell. Nathan landed lightly on the stage, his suit adjusting to absorb the impact, and stood tall as the crowd broke into thunderous applause.

The cheers, screams, and clapping filled the convention centre, the noise almost deafening. Spotlights swung back to him as he strode toward the center of the stage, the Greene Industries logo beneath his feet. The crowd surged forward in excitement, reporters and VIPs craning their necks for a better look.

Nathan raised a hand, the suit amplifying the gesture, and the stage responded once more. Panels began to shift and retract, revealing the same robotic arms that had assembled the suit earlier. This time, they moved with precision, removing each piece of the gleaming armour in a reverse ballet. The overhead screens displayed close-ups of the process, the cameras capturing every detail of the intricate mechanisms.

As the final piece of the suit was removed, Nathan stood there in his tailored Saville Row suit, every inch the polished billionaire. He stepped forward, his expression playful, as he took the microphone.

"Well," he began, his voice amplified across the venue, "that was fun, wasn't it?"

The crowd roared in response, their excitement palpable. Nathan smiled, waiting for the noise to die down before continuing.

"Ladies and gentlemen, you've just witnessed the future," he said, gesturing to the robotic arms retracting into the stage. "This suit represents a new era of innovation, where technology and heroism go hand in hand. And today, I'm proud to announce that you're looking at America's latest superhero."

The crowd cheered and whistled. Nathan played to them, spreading his arms wide as if basking in their adoration.

"As a resident of this beautiful city," he added, playing up the local pride, "I'm hoping to secure a contract right here in Los Angeles. I'll even throw in a friends and family discount."

The mention of a potential LA-based contract caused a visible stir among the reporters and VIPs in the audience. Several leaned in, whispering to each other, their expressions ranging from intrigued to outright thrilled. Nathan caught a glimpse of their reactions and smiled. Exactly as planned.

Vought Tower, New York City

Madelyn Stillwell stood in her office, arms crossed as she watched the broadcast. A wide smile spread across her face, her mind already racing with possibilities. The synergy between Greene Industries and Vought would be monumental. Endorsements, co-branded technology, exclusive sponsorship deals—the possibilities were endless.

"The profits could be even bigger than Homelander," she muttered, half to herself, as her assistant hovered nervously nearby.

But then, Nathan's tone shifted on the screen.

"And of course," Nathan continued, his voice smooth and confident, "no superhero can do it alone. That's why I'm thrilled to announce that I'll be working with someone who has a proven track record. A man who's managed legends in the past."

Madelyn's smile faltered, her brow furrowing in confusion.

Nathan grinned at the camera, pausing for dramatic effect. "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my new manager, the man behind Soldier Boy and Payback… The Legend!"

The camera cut to the side of the stage, where an older man stepped into view. He was short and stocky, with a paunch hidden beneath a slightly rumpled three-piece suit. His hair was thinning, his glasses slightly crooked, but his swagger was undeniable. He raised a hand in a mock salute, his grin wide and unapologetic as he strolled to Nathan's side.

Madelyn's jaw dropped. "You have got to be kidding me."

Her assistant looked over nervously. "Ma'am?"

Madelyn ignored him, picking up the nearest object on her desk—a small eraser—and hurling it at the screen. It bounced off harmlessly, and the act did nothing to quell her frustration.

"Why the hell is he there?" she snapped. "I buried that son of a bitch. He was supposed to be retired!"

From what sounded like several floors above her, she heard the sounds of things crashing and breaking. Oh great, she thought. Looks like I have to deal with another tantrum.

Los Angeles Convention Centre, California

Nathan shook hands with The Legend, stepping aside to let the older man take the microphone.

"Out of retirement for one last hurrah," The Legend quipped, his voice raspy but filled with humour. "Gotta admit, didn't see this one coming. But when Nathan Greene gives you a call and says he's building the future? You don't say no."

The crowd cheered, though some of the older reporters exchanged knowing glances. The Legend's past was the stuff of industry whispers—a colourful history involving many of Vought's most famous and beloved superheroes that Nathan was clearly banking on to add credibility and intrigue to his debut.

Nathan reclaimed the microphone, his tone light but deliberate. "I couldn't ask for a better mentor to guide me in this new chapter. With The Legend by my side, we're going to redefine what it means to be a superhero."

The audience clapped politely, cameras flashing as Nathan and The Legend stood side by side. Throughout the crowd, Nathan caught sight of Vought employees scrambling, but also obviously trying not to look like they were scrambling. He suppressed a smirk.

Let them chew on this for a while.

As Nathan concluded his introduction of The Legend, he couldn't help but notice the visible shift in the crowd's attention. Their focus, once squarely on the winner of the pageant, Starlight, had now turned entirely to him. He caught sight of Annie—Starlight—standing off to the side of the stage, her golden hair glowing in the sunlight streaming through the open roof. She looked visibly relieved, her posture relaxing now that the pressure of being in the spotlight had lessened, at least temporarily.

In stark contrast, the other contestants were looking at him hungrily. Nathan could feel their gazes boring into him, calculating, assessing. His looks, his money, his connections—he was more than just a spectacle to them. He was an opportunity.

Out of the corner of his eye, Nathan noticed Annie's mother, Donna, glaring at him from her seat in the audience. Her face was pinched, her disapproval clear even at a distance. Nathan couldn't suppress a pang of guilt. Yeah, crashing a teen heroine pageant was probably a bit rude, he thought wryly. But then again, the entire event was practically a stage for Vought's brand of commercialized heroism, so he didn't feel too bad about stealing some of the limelight. Besides, if he'd pulled this stunt at a male competition, he'd probably be dead by now.

Still, he felt a twinge of sympathy for Annie. He knew she hated these pageants and was only here because of her mother. He adjusted his tie and stepped forward, raising the microphone again. Unfortunately, he'd have to pull her back in, for now.

"Now, I know I may have stolen the spotlight for a moment," Nathan said, his tone apologetic but playful, "and I promise, this is still your day, ladies. In fact, I want to make it extra special for our winner."

The murmurs in the crowd stilled as they leaned in, eager to hear what was next.

"As a surprise," Nathan continued, his gaze settling on Starlight, "I'll be designing a custom suit for our winner, Starlight. Something truly unique, tailored not just to her aesthetic but to complement her powers. After all, every great hero deserves a suit that helps them shine."

The audience cheered her on, and Annie's eyes widened in surprise. Donna's glare shifted in a warm smile. Nathan ignored her, focusing on Annie as he held out his hand, gesturing for her to join him at the center of the stage.

"Starlight, would you join me for a moment?" he asked warmly.

Annie hesitated, glancing at her mother before taking a deep breath and stepping forward. The applause swelled as she approached him, her steps tentative but steady. Nathan extended his hand as she reached him, offering her a reassuring smile.

"It's very nice to meet you," he said, his voice genuine as he shook her hand.

Annie managed a small smile in return. "It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Greene. Thank you for the… surprise."

Nathan chuckled. "Call me Nathan. And it's my pleasure. Now, I hear you've got quite an impressive set of powers. You can absorb and channel electrical energy, right?"

Annie nodded. "Yeah, I can absorb electricity and convert it into light or energy blasts."

Nathan's eyes lit up with curiosity. "Fascinating. I was hoping we could test something—if you're up for it?"

Annie looked intrigued but cautious. "Test what, exactly?"

Nathan turned slightly, gesturing to the stage. One of the panels slid open with a mechanical hum, and a robotic arm extended upward, holding a glowing ARC reactor. The cylindrical device pulsed with energy.

The audience gasped collectively, their attention riveted to the small but powerful device.

Nathan reached out and plucked the ARC reactor from the robotic arm, holding it up for the crowd to see. He turned back to Annie, his expression calm but encouraging. "This is one of my ARC reactors, the latest model. I want to see if you can absorb its energy."

Annie's eyes widened, and she instinctively took a step back. "That? Are you sure? I mean, I've never tried anything like this before."

Nathan smiled gently, holding the reactor out to her. "That's the fun part—trying something new. But before we do, there's one little precaution we need to take."

He stepped back and gestured toward the audience. "Greene Industries employees, please distribute the sunglasses we've prepared."

As if on cue, several uniformed staff moved through the aisles, passing out sleek black sunglasses to the audience. Nathan turned back to Annie, his voice low enough for only her to hear. "I originally had them prepared before the rehearsal. We weren't sure how opening the roof would go, but we all might need them for this. Trust me. I don't want anyone complaining about being blinded."

Annie looked at him, her nervousness softening into gratitude. "Thank you."

The crowd, now adorned with their stylish protective eyewear, murmured in anticipation. Nathan held out the reactor again, nodding encouragingly. "Whenever you're ready."

Annie took the reactor carefully, her fingers brushing against the cool metal. She closed her eyes for a moment, steadying herself, then focused on the device. The reactor pulsed faintly in her hands, and the audience held its collective breath.

As Annie focused on the ARC reactor, the faint hum of energy began to grow louder. Light surged from the device, refracting brilliantly in dazzling rays that painted the stage and audience in glowing patterns. The crowd gasped, their sunglasses just barely shielding their eyes from the brightness. Annie's hands trembled as the energy flowed through her, her face a mixture of concentration and awe.

Then something unexpected happened.

The light intensified, and Annie's body began to lift off the ground. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, she started to rise, her feet leaving the stage entirely. The crowd fell into stunned silence as she hovered several feet in the air, her golden hair shimmering in the radiant light.

Nathan raised an eyebrow, a bemused grin tugging at his lips. "Well, would you look at that? You can fly too. Guess we're learning all kinds of new things today."

Annie's eyes flew open, wide with shock as she realized what was happening. "I… I'm flying?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the energy. She looked down at Nathan, who was watching her with that same calm, amused expression as if this were all part of the plan. It was, but she didn't know that.

The crowd erupted into hooting cheers and applause, their earlier excitement now amplified to a fever pitch. Reporters scrambled to capture the moment, their cameras clicking furiously as Annie hovered above the stage, bathed in the ARC reactor's glow.

Annie's expression shifted from shock to wonder. She extended her arms slightly, experimenting with her balance. The energy surrounding her felt weightless, effortless, as though it were lifting her rather than the other way around. Her lips curved into a hesitant smile, and for the first time, she looked genuinely confident.

Nathan stepped back, watching her carefully. "You're a natural," he called up to her, his tone encouraging. "Try moving forward a bit. The energy seems to respond to your intent."

Annie hesitated for a moment, then nodded. She tilted her body slightly, and to her astonishment, she floated forward. The crowd roared their approval, some even leaping to their feet as she glided across the stage in a graceful arc.

Nathan couldn't resist adding another quip. "Well, Starlight, I think we're going to need to add 'flight' to your résumé. Good thing I'm designing you a new suit—looks like you'll need one aerodynamic enough to keep up."

Annie laughed nervously, the sound carrying through the speakers. "I… I had no idea I could do this," she said, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Nathan spread his arms, gesturing to the reactor still glowing in her hands. "That's the beauty of discovery, isn't it? You never know what you're capable of until you try something new."

As the energy in the reactor began to stabilize, Annie's levitation gradually slowed. She descended back toward the stage, her feet touching down lightly as the audience broke into another round of thunderous applause.

Annie looked at Nathan, her cheeks flushed with excitement and disbelief. "Thank you," she said, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. "That was... amazing."

Nathan smiled, his tone warm but playful. "Don't thank me yet. Save it for your new suit."

The crowd laughed, and Annie couldn't help but join in, her earlier nervousness melting away. Nathan turned back to the audience, raising his arms in a triumphant gesture.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen," he said, his voice booming across the venue, "I think we've all seen enough to agree—this year's Miss Teen Hero is something truly special."

The crowd's cheers reached a deafening pitch, their excitement spilling over as the cameras captured Annie's glowing face, the ARC reactor still cradled in her hands. Nathan stepped back slightly, giving her the stage as the true star of the moment.