Authors Notes

Greetings, readers.

This story is going to focus on the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe, including the shows and other media, but from the perspective of the protagonist, feel free to make any suggestions of the stuff you want to see in the story, and if it is reasonable, I will fit it into the story.

I should have mentioned this from the start, but now is as good a time as any. The main character, Jon, is just a teenage boy who grew up on the streets, fighting tooth and nail to survive before being reincarnated into the MCU. His idea of being a hero comes from the comic books he read. While he is now a genius with knowledge of future events and a plan to change them, at his core, he is still that same street kid. His survivor mentality will influence his decisions, sometimes leading to mistakes that may frustrate readers. This is not a story about an all-knowing, overpowered protagonist or a Mary Sue trope. It's the story of a survivor—a kid with knowledge of the future—who chooses to be a hero like the ones in his comics to protect his new world. But he will soon learn that being a hero isn't as simple as the comics make it seem. If the main character makes a choice that seems reckless or illogical, keep in mind that you're reading from the perspective of a 17-year-old who is still figuring out what it truly means to be a hero—not a seasoned, experienced superhero. If that's the kind of story you're looking for, check out Nova Ascension, another story I'm currently writing. Oh, and please keep the review section peaceful—no fighting.

Please feel free to leave a review, as it helps improve the story's quality.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Down Time

Derick's POV

After the chaotic events of the previous night, Derick was hardly surprised to find himself summoned to the Director's office once again. As soon as morning broke, he had taken the first available flight to Washington, D.C., and now found himself walking through the familiar halls of the Triskelion. His destination: Director Fury's office.

"So, you were busy yesterday," came a calm yet knowing voice beside him. Agent Maria Hill had fallen into step with him, her usual composed demeanor firmly in place.

Derick glanced at her, reading between the lines. "What did you hear?"

Hill continued walking forward, her expression betraying nothing. "Oh, bits and pieces, some from Mackenzie and Morse. Romanov and Hartley have yet to submit their full reports, but from what I gathered, it would've been a bloodbath if it weren't for you and your team coordinating a plan of attack." She paused before adding, "And of course, we can't forget the others too, Stark, Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes... and Phoenix." She glanced at him. "Or should I say, your son?"

Derick's steps didn't falter, but he turned his head slightly to gauge her reaction. "You know about Jon? So, does the Director know too?"

She let out a quiet chuckle. "Of course he knows, Derick. He knows everything."

Derick exhaled, nodding. "Figures. So, I'm guessing he's the one who greenlit the surveillance team."

This time, Hill did turn to him, a bit of surprise flickering in her eyes. "Wait, you knew about that?"

He smirked. "Oh, come now, Maria. Rumlow and Ward might be top agents, but they're not that good. I spotted them on the second day."

Hill chuckled, shaking her head. "Hey, you can't really fault them, not all of us have the training you have, I mean you were JSOC for crying out loud."

Derick rolled his eyes. "So, I take it the Director wants to talk about yesterday and about my son?"

She offered him an amused smile. "I could tell you, but then that would be telling. I promise it's not all bad."

With that, she opened the door to Fury's office, stepping aside to let him in first.

As always, Fury was standing by the large window, his hands behind his back as he looked out at the lake surrounding the Triskelion. He cut an imposing figure, ever the calculating leader. Without turning, he acknowledged them.

"Agent Hill. Agent Miller."

"Director," Hill greeted with a professional nod before excusing herself, leaving Derick alone with Fury.

Derick, ever the disciplined former Navy officer, straightened and saluted out of habit.

"At ease, Agent Miller," Fury said, finally turning around and gesturing toward a chair. "Sit."

Derick complied, remaining silent as he observed the Director. Fury leaned against his desk, arms crossed, his gaze sharp as always.

"You've been quite busy," Fury began. "Last night's operation—while technically a breach of protocol, considering you had no authorization—was... impressive." He let the words hang in the air. "You not only coordinated multiple assets against an active threat but did so without directly exposing SHIELD's involvement. That's no small feat."

Derick remained neutral, unsure where this was leading. "Thank you, sir."

Fury stepped forward and slid a closed file across the desk. "Open the folder in front of you."

Derick did as instructed, eyes landing on a new I.D. badge with his name—except the clearance level had changed.

Fury didn't let him process for long. "Agent Miller, you and I have known each other for years—long before you joined SHIELD. Your mission success rate is second to none. Yesterday could have ended in disaster if not for your initiative. You had no official jurisdiction, yet you adapted, worked within the restricting parameters available, and ultimately delivered results. That's why we're promoting you to Level 8 clearance."

For the first time in a long while, Derick was caught off guard. He blinked at Fury. "Wait... what?"

Fury merely let the words settle.

Derick took a moment, exhaling as the weight of the promotion sank in. "Thank you, sir. I'm honored."

Fury raised a hand. "Don't thank me yet." He tapped another folder on the desk and slid it toward him. "This new position comes with new responsibilities."

Derick picked up the file and read the title: AVENGERS INITIATIVE.

His eyebrows furrowed. He looked up at Fury. "Okay... what is this about?"

Fury's one eye locked onto him, intensity unwavering. "Open it."

Derick took a slow, deep breath as he opened the file, his fingertips brushing over the sleek surface. Suddenly, a holographic display flickered to life, projecting vibrant, moving images in front of him. His eyes widened as the first video played—his son, Jon, soaring through the air with unmatched speed, weaving between skyscrapers and maneuvering like a blur through the cityscape. Derick's heart pounded as he watched Jon lift entire cars and even a derailed train with ease, his movements graceful despite the immense weight.

Derick couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at his son's raw power and innate control. Yet there was an undercurrent of worry—the boy wasn't just powerful; he was a now a walking target, if Fury had this, then chances were that HYDRA knew about Jon too. He glanced at Fury, but the Director remained silent, letting the footage speak for itself.

Flipping to the next video, Derick watched as Tony Stark, the Iron Man, in his sleek red and gold armor, zoomed through the sky, blasting away at a massive, heavily armored mech. The machine retaliated with its own barrage of weaponry, but Stark remained agile, weaving through the explosions with finesse. Derick's lips pressed into a tight line—He found the billionaire playboy annoying at times, but could not refuse, when push came to shove, Stark was good to have in one's corner.

The next clip caused Derick's expression to darken. A massive, green-skinned monster rampaged through what looked like a laboratory, throwing heavy machinery as if they were mere toys. The creature roared, smashing a reinforced wall with a single, powerful strike. Derick frowned, recognizing the infamous Hulk, from Jon's descriptions. He could practically feel the ground shaking through the hologram. Fury remained impassive, though his eyes were watchful as Derick took it all in.

Another swipe of his hand, and an image of a massive, ornate hammer embedded in the ground filled the screen. Derick's eyes narrowed, recognizing it from Jon's stories. Thor's hammer. He glanced back at Fury, brow furrowing.

"Okay," Derick began slowly, his voice steady despite the tumult of thoughts racing through his head. He decided to play dumb, in order to not rouse suspicion from Fury about his Avengers team. "Why do you have these? Is this a threat assessment file, sir? And what does this have to do with my son?"

Fury moved to his desk, seating himself and clasping his hands together. "There was an idea," he began, his tone calm yet weighted. "To bring together Earth's mightiest heroes, to fight the battles that we can't. Battles that are beyond any one organization or army."

Derick raised an eyebrow, keeping his face impassive. "And what battles are those, sir?"

Fury swiped on the interface, the hammer image zooming in, displaying intricate Asgardian runes. "These were taken yesterday, Agent Miller. An extraterrestrial object—straight out of myth. Now, tell me something... do you think we're alone in the universe?"

Derick hesitated, pretending to mull it over. "I'd like to think we're not," he admitted cautiously.

Fury leaned back in his chair, his gaze never wavering. "There are far greater threats out there. Advanced civilizations waiting for a chance to turn our world into a battlefield. We need to be ready, prepared to defend this planet at all costs." He paused, eyes narrowing slightly. "And that's where your son comes in."

Derick suppressed the urge to scoff. Director Fury was good at spinning his intentions, but Derick knew what this really was—a recruitment pitch. Still, he played along. "So, you want Jon to join your 'initiative.'"

Fury nodded. "With his abilities—and with our guidance—we could save countless lives. SHIELD can provide him with the resources, training, and protection he needs to harness his full potential. Under our direction, he could become a true hero."

Derick's mind raced. There was no way in hell his son would sign up to work with SHIELD, especially with everything he knew about the future, and what had happened with Lora. But then, another Idea came to mind, what if Jon did join SHIELD? The idea of Jon using SHIELD to take down HYDRA from within suddenly seemed not just feasible, but brilliant. Jon could act as a double agent, Joining HYDRA, and gaining access to classified files while maintaining the appearance of loyalty. It would be dangerous, but Derick would be there to protect his son. The more he considered it, the more it made sense.

He gave a subtle nod to himself, and Fury's keen eyes didn't miss it.

"What do you say, Agent Miller?" Fury asked, his voice quieter now. "Can you get your son to join us?"

Derick leaned back, pretending to think it over. "I might be able to get him on board," he said slowly, his tone guarded. "But on a few conditions."

Fury raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

Derick looked him square in the eye, his voice firm. "I'll be his handler—no one else. I'll train him my way, no interference. And as for his inventions or anything him or his friend work on, they're off-limits to SHIELD, as long as they don't undermine our interests. I won't have you confiscating tech or forcing cooperation."

Fury didn't immediately respond, but there was a glimmer of approval in his eye. "You drive a hard bargain, Miller. But... agreed. However, if an extraterrestrial threat arises, I expect full cooperation. You'll transfer command of your son to me."

Derick gave a curt nod. "Understood."

Fury moved to the desk, pushing another file toward him. "Your new clearance also means new responsibilities. You're authorized to assemble your own response team—SHIELD agents or qualified civilians of your choosing. You'll be given your own mobile command station—a customized C-5M Super Galaxy with a Quinjet attached. Plus, two young scientists will be assigned to you—brilliant minds. Now, the C-5 might be old school, but it's reliable. Keep impressing me, and maybe we'll talk about giving you a Helicarrier one day."

Derick couldn't help the low chuckle that slipped out, earning a curious look from Fury.

"Care to share what's so amusing, Agent Miller?" Fury asked, a hint of curiosity slipping through his stoic demeanor.

"Just... surprised, sir," Derick replied, schooling his expression. "Didn't expect a promotion when we were planning this mission. But I'll take it."

Fury's gaze hardened. "Like I said, Agent Miller. You are on of our best agents, and this has been a long time coming. Yesterday, while your tactics were questionable, you worked out how to operate without clearance from the Secretary of the world council or me, and went above and beyond, and you did it without tipping our hand to the world. That kind of initiative is rare. That is why you have been awarded your own command."

Derick nodded, more solemn now. "Understood, sir. About the rest of the team—how many agents do I get?"

"That's up to you," Fury said evenly. "Aside from the scientists, you've got carte blanche. Pick whoever you think is fit for the job."

Derick nodded, grateful for the autonomy. He stood and offered his hand, and Fury clasped it firmly.

"Go see Agent Hill," Fury instructed. "She'll take you to your new command center and introduce you to the scientists."

"Yes, sir." Derick saluted before turning on his heel and exiting the office. As he walked down the corridor, his thoughts spun with possibilities, both for SHIELD and for how to best leverage this new position to root out HYDRA.

A small, satisfied smile tugged at his lips. He'd gotten what he wanted—resources, mobility, and control. Now all he had to do was convince Jon to play ball.

Tony Stark's POV

Tony Stark sat at his workstation, fingers drumming rhythmically against the armrest of his chair as his mind raced. Few things truly shocked him these days. He had been captured by terrorists, survived being attacked by a madman with a grudge, and even fought off his father's old friend, hell-bent on killing him. Yet, this new revelation left him stunned.

The all-powerful hero that saved his life yesterday—whom the media had dubbed the Phoenix—was nothing more than a teenage kid. An actual freaking kid. Tony huffed, leaning back and staring at the holographic screen floating in front of him. With Jarvis' help, he'd finally hacked into the surveillance drone's communications system after the battle, the one that had been following the kid around, and was determined to solve the mystery of his savior from Monaco and the Stark Expo incident. What he found left him reeling.

His father's legacy—the Stark Expo—could have turned into a catastrophe. Hundreds of people could have died if Comic-Con, as Tony called the kid, hadn't stepped up. The memories of the night replayed in his head: the armored Hammer drones swarming, chaos erupting, and that kid—flying through the air, blazing with power, dispatching enemies with raw strength and finesse.

Tony rubbed his forehead, trying to piece it all together. Not only was the kid powerful, but he also had SHIELD backing him up. Not a shocker, considering the way the kid had dropped SHIELD's name during the fight. So, the kid was Fury's new protégé? Interesting.

Tony snorted at the thought, muttering under his breath, "Of course, Fury would find himself a superpowered boy scout. Always gotta have all the cool friends, huh?"

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as his mind briefly wandered to Pepper, recalling the incredible night they'd shared after the chaos of yesterday. The way her lips brushed his, the way she laughed when he stumbled over his words in a rare moment of vulnerability. He couldn't help the soft grin that spread across his face. Guess Pepper and I are a thing now, he thought, trying to shake off the goofy smile.

But his focus returned to the present, his gaze narrowing at the hologram footage the hacked drone was broadcasting, playing in front of him. The kid—Jon, if he remembered correctly—wasn't just some random superhuman relying on strength alone. He was analyzing Whiplash's damaged armor, alongside a familiar redheaded girl with glasses. They were working in what looked like a makeshift lab, and the girl—was helping him dissect the suit piece by piece.

Tony's brows rose as he observed the advanced tech strapped to the boy's arm—a sleek, metallic high tech vambrace, projecting a complex, full color depth, volumetric, holographic interface, running diagnostics and simulations with an efficiency that rivaled even JARVIS. Tony felt a spark of excitement shoot through him, the kid had built that incredible piece of technology, Clearly, he was a genius.

He chuckled, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Genius, inventor, and playing hero. Sounds familiar.

Tony couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia, remembering his younger, more reckless self, back in college. Back then, he was driven by ambition and the thrill of innovation, pushing boundaries just because he could. Maybe this kid was cut from the same cloth. A brilliant mind seeking to make a difference—without waiting for permission.

A new idea sparked to life in Tony's mind, and he pushed himself out of his chair, stretching his arms.

"JARVIS," he called out, his voice steady.

"Yes, sir?" the AI responded smoothly.

"Give me a location on the kid," Tony commanded, already striding toward his suits.

"He and Miss Penelope just left their warehouse and are currently located at a local Starbucks, sir," JARVIS replied.

Tony smirked, raising his eyebrows. "Of course. Teen geniuses and caffeine—classic combo."

But then it hit him—Penelope. Burns' daughter. He snapped his fingers as the realization settled in. "So that's who she is. The kid from Monaco—the one with Burns and his daughter. Should've put that together sooner." He sighed, placing a hand on his head. "Genius, my ass. Right in front of me the whole damn time."

He shook his head, a sly grin forming. "Set the destination. I think it's time I had a little chat with the prodigies."

"Destination locked, sir," JARVIS confirmed.

Without another word, Tony stepped into his Iron Man suit, the familiar mechanical whirs and clicks echoing around him as the armor assembled. With a final tug to make sure everything was secure, his faceplate snapped into place.

"Let's go make new friends," he quipped before launching into the sky, thrusters roaring.

As he cut through the air, his thoughts raced ahead of him. Maybe this kid was more than just a hero in training. Maybe he was someone Tony could actually connect with—someone who understood the brilliance and the burden that came with it.

"Or maybe I'm just about to make a new rival," Tony mused aloud, smirking as the cityscape zipped by below. Either way, this was going to be interesting.

Jonathan's POV

The bustling hum of the Starbucks surrounded us as we sat down at a small, round table by the window, the last rays of sunlight painting the sky in shades of gold and amber. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the faint sweetness of pastries as the barista approached, placing our drinks and snacks in front of us with a polite smile.

"Your orders, sir, ma'am," she said cheerfully, setting down a vibrant Barbie Frappuccino for Penny and an espresso for me, along with two warm, flaky chocolate croissants.

"Thanks," I replied, giving her a quick nod before she moved on to the next customer.

Penny took a quick sip of her drink, the bright pink whipped cream leaving a slight stain on her upper lip. She grinned, wiping it away with her thumb before biting into her croissant.

"Damn," she mumbled around her mouthful, "school was such a drag today. Can't wait for graduation to come." She leaned back in her seat, stretching her legs out under the table.

I chuckled, popping a piece of my croissant into my mouth. "Yeah, tell me about it."

Penny glanced at me, her hazel eyes glinting with curiosity. "So," she began, swirling her drink thoughtfully, "you still planning on applying to MIT?"

I nodded, taking another sip of my espresso. "Yeah. There's no way my parents would let me skip out on going to university. I'd die before they'd let that happen."

She snorted and shook her head, a smirk tugging at her lips. "My dad's the same way," she said, rolling her eyes. "He wants me to go to Harvard like he did, but... I think I'm gonna aim for MIT too."

I raised an eyebrow, giving her a playful look. "Oh really? If I didn't know better, I'd say you just want to stay close to me."

Penny shot me a glare, though it lacked any real heat. "Oh, please. Someone's gotta take care of your sorry ass," she teased, leaning in closer. "Besides, you'd go crazy missing me."

I couldn't help but laugh at that, the sound rich and warm as it slipped out. "That's pretty accurate," I admitted, locking eyes with her. She was the only person, outside of my parents, that I trusted in this world. I hesitated, my heart thumping a little harder as I lowered my voice. "Besides... you make me feel really good just being around you. You're like a drug—my own personal brand of heroin. I can't get enough of you"

The words came out cheesier than I intended, and I winced inwardly, trying not to groan at myself. Penny's cheeks flushed a delicate pink, and she quickly looked away, sipping her drink to hide her reaction.

"Look at you," she muttered, the corners of her mouth lifting in a small smile. "Making me blush like that. Who knew pickup lines could actually make a girl swoon?" She gave me a sideways glance, still trying to play it cool. "I'm not that I'm that special or anything."

I leaned in, my voice low and smooth. "Not that special?" I scoffed. "Tell me—how does it feel to be the most beautiful and smartest girl in the room?"

She snorted, but her cheeks grew even redder. "Oh, stop it," she whispered, giggling softly. "Now you're just exaggerating to make me feel good."

I smirked, leaning back. "Just telling it like it is, beautiful."

Her face was practically tomato red now, and she buried it in her hands with a groan. "Okay, okay! Please stop, Casanova—you win."

I couldn't help but laugh at her reaction, feeling a sense of triumph at how flustered I'd made her. She still shot me a playful glare from behind her hands, but the smile never left her face.

We lapsed into comfortable silence for a moment, just enjoying each other's company. I took another sip of my espresso when Penny broke the quiet, her tone suddenly more serious.

"So," she started, glancing up at me with those bright eyes. "Wanna talk about yesterday?"

I raised an eyebrow, wiping a crumb from my lip. "What about it?"

Penny tilted her head, considering me. "Well... how about the fact that we didn't just stop a terrorist attack, but also managed to snag some seriously advanced tech out of it, too."

I shrugged, trying to downplay it. "Yeah, we did. It's all over the news this morning. Seems like the media's taken to calling me Phoenix, —the new hero of New York." I shook my head, amused at the fact that they had gotten it right without needing to be corrected by me. "Dad got called in this morning. Said it probably had to do with the attack yesterday. I wonder what's going down on his end."

Penny hummed thoughtfully, tapping her nails on her cup. "Well, it's kinda awesome that you're officially a superhero now," she said, giving me a teasing nudge with her foot. "But... I think we seriously need to rethink using the warehouse as our main tech storage."

I frowned, setting my cup down. "Why's that?"

She gave me a look like I was missing something obvious. "The warehouse is packed with enough tech and resources to be worth over ten billion dollars—and that's lowballing it. All that Vibranium, the Arc Reactor schematics, even the Whiplash armor... We're practically begging for someone to come after us. SHIELD, the government... they wouldn't hesitate to try and take it from us if they knew."

Her words hit me like a bucket of cold water, and I couldn't deny the logic behind them. As much as I wanted to refute her point, deep down, I knew she was right. Letting that much valuable tech sit in a half-secured warehouse was just asking for trouble.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "You're right," I admitted. "We need a more secure location—someplace off the grid."

Penny smiled, giving me a nod of approval. "Glad you're not being stubborn about it."

I smirked back at her, giving her a light nudge. "You sure it's not just your plan to get me alone with you far from anyone, Red?"

She laughed, rolling her eyes. "Oh, please. I don't need to try hard to achieve that. I'm just making sure your genius brain doesn't get us both arrested—or worse."

I chuckled, feeling some of the tension slip away. Despite the seriousness of the situation, I couldn't help but appreciate having Penny by my side. As long as we stuck together, we'd figure it out—one way or another.

I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts, and looked at Penny. "So, I'm guessing you have a plan?" I asked, my tone steady but curious.

She nodded, a hint of excitement flickering in her eyes. "Yeah, we could move everything to an unknown location—preferabl—"

Before she could finish her sentence, a loud whooshing noise cut through the air, followed by a metallic clank just outside the café, like a rocket had just touched down. The sudden sound made both of us snap our heads toward the window.

The barista, who was wiping down the counter, shrieked with excitement. "Oh my god! It's Ironman" she exclaimed, practically vibrating with energy as she peered out the window.

Penny groaned, rolling her eyes. "Well, look what the cat dragged in," she muttered, clearly unimpressed.

I couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction. Outside, none other than Tony Stark was surrounded by a small crowd of fans, his presence causing a minor commotion. He was flashing that infamous Stark grin, signing autographs, and chatting with a few overly enthusiastic admirers. A part of me couldn't help but wonder why he was here of all places—there was no way he could know about us. We had taken every precaution to stay hidden.

Stark finally broke free from the adoring crowd and made his way toward the café entrance. As he stepped inside, the barista practically tripped over herself rushing up to him. Usually, she wouldn't leave the counter, but apparently Tony Stark was an exception.

"Is there anything I can get you, Mr. Stark?" she asked breathlessly, her cheeks flushed.

Penny rolled her eyes again, muttering under her breath, "Calm down, girl. He's just a guy."

Tony gave the barista a charming smile and said, "A Mocha Frappuccino would be great, thanks." As she hurried off to make his drink, Stark finally turned his attention to us. His gaze landed on Penny first, and his eyebrows rose in recognition.

"Ah, we meet again, Miss Burns," he said smoothly.

Penny crossed her arms and shot him a look. "Oh, so now you see us? Guess we must have been invisible at Monaco, Jon."

Stark smirked, shrugging nonchalantly. "Hey, play nice. To be fair, I was dealing with some... stuff at the time. So, my bad."

I couldn't help but chuckle, and before Penny could retort, I chimed in, "Relax, she's just busting your balls, man. Besides, I get it—if I had palladium slowly poisoning me from the inside out, I'd be working through my bucket list too."

Tony's cocky smile instantly dropped, replaced by a stunned, almost panicked expression. His eyes locked onto mine, and for a second, I thought he might bolt. "Wait," he said cautiously, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "How do you know about that?"

Penny's playful demeanor vanished, replaced with genuine concern as she shot me a questioning look. "Wait, he's dying?" she asked, her voice quieter but laced with worry. She turned to Stark, her face softening. "You're dying?"

Tony hesitated, but then chuckled as he raised both hands in a placating gesture. "Nope. Not anymore. Yay me." He gave a little sarcastic jazz-hands motion, and I couldn't help but laugh at his theatrics. Even Penny managed a faint smile, clearly relieved.

I gestured toward his chest, where the new triangular Arc Reactor was gleaming under his shirt. "So, new design, huh?" I noted with a smirk.

Stark's face lit up with a bit of pride, his confidence returning. "Yep. Had a breakthrough recently. Took care of the whole 'dying from heavy metal poisoning' thing."

"Well, good for you," I replied, nodding approvingly. Then I raised an eyebrow, giving him a curious look. "So, how can we help you, Stark? You come all this way to apologize for Monaco?"

He shot me a smirk, but his eyes softened just a little. "Well, there's that, of course. I did feel kinda bad about blowing you two off. But honestly, I'm just here to thank you for having my back yesterday."

My mind raced, alarm bells ringing in my head. Shit. He knows, how the hell did he find out so fast. I kept my face neutral, trying to hide the spike of anxiety that shot through me.

Tony must have picked up on my unease because he gave me a pointed look and smirked. "Oh, come on, Comic-Con. I know it was you."

Fuck. My mind raced, trying to figure out how the hell he pieced it together. I didn't dare look at Penny, not wanting to give away any tells. I just kept my expression as calm as possible, but the tension coiled tight in my chest, making it hard to breathe.

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stay calm. "Really? Still with that damn nickname?" I shot Tony a glare, trying to keep my frustration in check. "How the hell did you find out?"

Tony leaned back comfortably in his chair, his signature smirk never wavering as he waited for the barista to set his drink down in front of him. He casually picked it up, taking a slow sip before answering. "Well," he began with a lazy drawl, "I am one of the smartest people on the planet and—"

Penny groaned, cutting him off with an exasperated sigh. "It was the bloody drone, wasn't it?"

Tony raised his cup in a mock toast, flashing her a triumphant grin. "Ding, ding, ding."

I turned to Penny, eyebrows furrowed, silently asking for an explanation. She huffed, rubbing her temples. "The bloody drone," she muttered. "He used the drone's weaker security encryption to hack into it, probably used it to spy on us, probably used it to piggyback onto other systems still online."

Tony let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying himself. "To be fair, I only accessed your drone and its cameras. I don't actually have access to your systems. Keeping them, off-grid was smart, by the way."

Shaking my head, I suppressed the urge to groan. "Alright, now you know who I am and what we do. So... now what?"

Tony gave me a casual shrug, his expression turning almost friendly. "Easy, kid. I actually think that we all could work together. Even though you work for Fury and all." He paused, giving me an appraising look. "And while we're still on that... didn't realize SHIELD employs children to fight for them."

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "First off, screw you. I don't work for SHIELD or Fury. I have contacts in SHIELD—people I trust, okay?"

Tony raised his hands defensively, still grinning. "Oh, right—your dad, hes an agent, right?"

That caught me off guard. I hated being the one without all the information. It was like Stark was getting a personal thrill from knowing more than I did. Penny stayed quiet, just observing the exchange, her eyes darting between us.

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stay composed. "Okay, you did your homework. Full marks for you. But you're still in the dark about most things." I leaned forward, my tone a bit sharper. "Anyway, what prompted this little visit, besides showing off that you know who I am?"

Stark just smiled, unbothered. "Like I said, I think the three of us could actually do some good together."

Penny finally broke her silence, her eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion. "Oh? And what exactly do you have in mind?"

Tony took another sip of his drink, looking thoughtful. "You're both clearly intelligent, geniuses. If I had to guess, you're planning on going to MIT?"

I let out a short laugh. "Lucky guess."

He smirked, clearly pleased with himself. "I have connections there. I'll get you in easy."

Penny raised an eyebrow, her gaze skeptical. "And what do you get in return?"

Tony shrugged, his expression turning uncharacteristically earnest. "I get friends I can rely on in this ever-crazier world. I feel like the three of us are kindred souls—people who think differently, see the world differently. There's a lot we could share and learn from each other." He paused, seeming almost embarrassed by his own sincerity. "Listen to me—getting all philosophical."

Penny snorted, unable to hide her amusement, while I couldn't help but crack a grin. "So, you want to be friends... with two teenagers? Kinda creepy dude."

Tony gave her a look that bordered on smug. "Touche, but to be fair, those two teenagers are really smart to begin with, I'm guessing you don't have many friends you get along with because of that, just like me. And I think you'd agree we'd both benefit from this friendship."

Penny glanced at me; her lips pursed in thought. "True... we don't, your offer is tempting." She hesitated, then asked, "What do you think, Jon?"

I studied Stark's face, weighing the pros and cons. This was a no-brainer. If I could get him on my side, convince him of what I knew about the future—what was coming—I'd have one more powerful ally to prepare with. One more I could trust.

Finally, I gave him a nod. "Okay, Tony. We accept your proposal."

Tony's grin grew wider, and he extended his hand. I took it, giving it a firm shake, and Penny followed suit.

Tony clapped his hands together, looking like a kid who'd just scored a new toy. "Well, this is gonna be fun."

I snorted, shaking my head. "Oh, you have no idea, dude."

If only he knew just how much his world was about to be turned upside down.

W'Kabi's POV

The throne room was suffocatingly silent, tension hanging in the air like an oppressive fog. The hologram display flickered to life, revealing the holographic image of a War dog delivering his report. His voice, low and steady, recounted the events of the Stark Expo incident that had occurred 2 days ago. Elders from every tribe sat rigid in their seats, disbelief and confusion painting their faces.

W'Kabi stood to the side, arms crossed, his face a mask of stoicism. Yet inside, he was a storm of emotions. The Phoenix—what the colonizers were calling Amahle's son—had fought alongside the Iron Man, cutting through wave after wave of hostile drones with terrifying ease. The boy had saved countless lives, his power on full display for the world to see.

The initial telling of the story had sparked outrage and doubt among the elders, their voices raised in protest. "Ubuxoki!" they had shouted. "Lies!" They refused to believe that a mere child could wield such incredible power.

However, all dissent faded the moment the War dog began to play the actual footage from his Kimoyo beads. The hologram showed the boy soaring through the sky, high above the chaos, moving so fast he was almost a blur. He barreled through a swarm of drones chasing Iron Man, leaving nothing but twisted metal and fire in his wake. The boy's speed was almost imperceptible, his movements precise and devastating.

The Queen Mother gasped softly, her hand rising to her mouth. "Bast preserve us..." she whispered, eyes wide with shock.

As the footage concluded, the Mining Elder cleared his throat, still looking dazed. "The boy possesses power that dwarfs that of the Black Panther... How is such a feat possible? Is our technology and power not greater than that of the outside world?"

Murmurs rippled through the chamber as the elders began whispering to one another, struggling to comprehend the enormity of what they had just witnessed.

Elder M'Kathu stepped forward, his expression resolute as he addressed the throne. "My King, we humbly request permission to reinstate Amahle and her children as Wakandan citizens. It has been far too long since she has been in foreign lands, without a place to truly call home."

A low, humorless laugh broke the tension, and the Mining Elder sneered openly. "Elder M'Kathu, you fool no one. We all know your true intentions. You only wish to bring back your niece to gain control over her child—because as her family head, he would fall under your authority."

Elder M'Kathu's face flushed with indignation, his mouth opening to fire back, but he froze when T'Challa raised a commanding hand. "Silence!"

The entire room fell quiet as the prince and current Black Panther, took a step forward, his regal presence undeniable. "Elder M'Kathu, no matter your reasons, I agree with you. Your niece and her children must be brought back to Wakanda. Okoye, W'Kabi, and I will go to her personally and speak with them, to convince her to come home. Would this be agreeable to you?"

The elder bowed his head, his earlier anger gone. "Yes, my prince. That is most agreeable."

T'Challa glanced at his father, whose face remained stoic, yet thoughtful. After a moment, King T'Chaka gave his son a single, approving nod.

W'Kabi allowed his gaze to shift to his wife. Okoye stood tall and composed, but he could see the pain in her eyes. He knew she dreaded facing her older sister again after everything that had happened—after Amahle had been exiled. When the meeting finally dispersed, W'Kabi moved to where His best Friend, Prince T'Challa was standing with Okoye and Princess Shuri.

The princess, just twelve years old, was grumbling to Okoye, frustration etched across her face. "It's not fair! I never get to go anywhere fun!"

T'Challa smirked, ruffling his sister's hair. "Maybe if you grew a few inches, we might let you board the Royal Talon Fighter."

Shuri huffed and glared at him, ready to retort, but before she could, the Queen Mother called her name, beckoning her away. Shuri left with a grumble, and the adults couldn't help but laugh at her indignation.

Approaching his friend, W'Kabi glanced at T'Challa with a questioning look. "So, my friend, what's your plan? How are we going to approach them?"

T'Challa considered for a moment before replying, his tone serious. "We will go to America, but we will not approach immediately, we will watch for a day, see what it is we are walking into."

W'Kabi's brow furrowed. "How do you think Amahle and her family will react to our presence?"

T'Challa hesitated. "I do not know, my friend. But anything is possible. We must be prepared."

Turning his gaze to Okoye, W'Kabi noted how distant she seemed. Concerned, he stepped closer. "Are you alright, wife?"

Okoye snapped out of her thoughts, blinking up at him. "I... I do not know what I will say when I see Amahle again, my love."

T'Challa placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his voice gentle. "Speak from the heart, Okoye. Let her know how you feel. Then, ask for her forgiveness."

W'Kabi nodded in agreement, squeezing her hand lightly. "He is right. Whatever happens, we will face it together."

Taking a deep breath, Okoye squared her shoulders, determination hardening her gaze.

T'Challa gave them both an encouraging smile. "Let us be off. We will go and talk to Amahle—and hope that she is as forgiving as Bast."

Together, the trio left the chamber, striding toward the royal air pad where the Royal Talon Fighter awaited them. As they walked, W'Kabi couldn't help but feel a mixture of hope and apprehension, wondering how Amahle would receive them after all these years. The outcome of this reunion would shape the future of the standing and influence of the Border Tribe for Generations to come.

Unknown POV

The majestic mountains of Nepal stretched out like ancient sentinels, their snow-capped peaks shimmering under the morning sun. The view was nothing short of breathtaking, making Afterlife appear more like an idyllic retreat than the sanctuary it truly was. The settlement, hidden away from the world, was home to the Inhumans—those blessed and cursed with extraordinary abilities. In the center of the courtyard, Jiaying, a serene and poised woman with wise, discerning eyes, stood before a young woman who hovered several feet off the ground.

The young woman appeared to be in her early to mid-20s, her caramel-toned skin glowing softly in the sunlight. Thick, unruly curls framed her face, cascading down to her shoulders like a wild mane. Her legs were crossed in a yoga pose, but unlike most, she wasn't seated on solid ground. Instead, she floated effortlessly, her body unmoving, as if gravity itself had surrendered to her will.

Jiaying's voice, calm and encouraging, broke the silence. "Good. Now focus your energy into your palms," she instructed. "Feel it travel from within you—direct it with intention. Don't let it overwhelm you."

The young woman took a deep breath, her face reflecting fierce concentration. Slowly, a golden glow began to form in her hands—soft at first, like the warmth of dawn, but then intensifying, brightening into miniature suns suspended in her palms. She held them steady, her brows furrowing as sweat gathered on her forehead.

But then, like a tidal wave, memories crashed into her mind—fragments from a life she could scarcely recall.

Flashes of herself in uniform—her military graduation, the pride in her chest as her comrades cheered. A young boy's laughter filled her ears—her little brother, running ahead of her in a park, daring her to catch him. The taste of soft lips against hers as she kissed her girlfriend, the world forgotten around them. Then—darkness. Gunfire. The blinding pain of an ambush. Shadows and fear engulfed her until the sudden presence of a blind man appearing out of thin air, rescuing her from death's clutches.

Her eyes snapped open, and panic tore through her chest. The energy surged violently, and with a scream, she thrust her hands outward. A blinding beam shot from her palms, colliding with the mountainside and erupting in a massive explosion that shook the ground. Rocks and dust scattered into the sky like angry spirits released from their slumber.

Jiaying merely chuckled, a gentle, almost motherly sound. "You're improving," she said, unperturbed by the display of raw power. "I know it's been years, but you must remember—most Inhumans only have to master one gift. You... you are the first I've seen with multiple gifts of this magnitude. The fact that you have mastered most of them already is nothing short of a miracle."

The young woman lowered herself to the ground, the golden glow dissipating from her hands as she let out a shaky breath. "It's just... more memories. They keep coming back—faces, voices... my parents, my brother, my girlfriend. But... I still can't remember their names." She looked down, frustration tightening her features. "I can't even remember my own name."

Jiaying's expression softened as she placed a comforting hand on the young woman's shoulder. "Patience, child," she murmured. "Your memories have recently begun to resurface, give it time. Your name will reveal itself when the moment is right. Until then, focus on mastering your abilities. A lapse in control, given your power, would be catastrophic."

The young woman nodded, her shoulders slumping. "I just... I feel like not knowing who I am is holding me back. How can I hope to control all of this when I don't even know myself?"

Jiaying's gaze grew distant, memories of her own surfacing. "You know, you remind me of my late daughter, Kora." she said softly. "She had similar gifts similar to yours—and more power than she could bear. I failed her. I was too gentle in teaching her control, and she feared herself... feared the destruction she could cause. One day, that fear consumed her, and she took her own life." A hint of pain laced her voice, but her expression remained calm. "I will not let that happen to you; I will not fail you too."

Swallowing the lump in her throat, the young woman nodded again and resumed her meditation, floating upward with practiced ease. Jiaying watched her for a moment longer before stepping back, allowing her some space.

As the young woman closed her eyes, she thought about Jiaying's words, and guilt tightened in her chest. She needed control—not just to master her powers but to find herself again.

Later, after her meditation session, she made her way back to her quarters, shedding her training clothes and stepping into the shower. The hot water cascaded over her, washing away the tension, but not the turmoil in her mind. Once she was clean and dressed, she knelt by her footlocker, where a handful of her old belongings were stored.

She pulled out her military jacket—tattered and singed but still intact. The faded name patch was partially burnt, the letters indistinct, but she gripped it tightly, trying to force her mind to yield some clue. Nothing. Just more aching emptiness. Letting out a frustrated breath, she folded the jacket and placed it back, lying down on her bed as the evening news began to play from the small screen in the room.

A headline caught her attention: "New Hero Emerges—The Phoenix Joins Iron Man to Save Expo!" Intrigued, she sat up, eyes fixed on the screen. It was a rerun from a few days ago, footage of a young man fighting off robotic drones flashed by, his movements agile and decisive, flames dancing around him like a protective aura. There was something so achingly familiar about him—his fighting stance, his determination. Her fingers traced his image on the screen, and her heart ached with a longing she couldn't explain.

"Why... why do I feel like I know you?" she whispered, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

Suddenly, a spark of hope ignited in her chest. "Maybe... maybe he knows me," she whispered. "If I can find him... if I can just talk to him, maybe I'll remember something."

Determination flared in her eyes, and she rose from the bed, driven by a newfound purpose. Finding this man, the Phoenix was the next step—a chance to rediscover herself and piece together the fractured memories of who she once was.

With renewed resolve, she left her quarters to get something to eat, her mind racing with thoughts of how she might track him down. Maybe Gordon could help her find him, or Jiaying might know where to start. Whatever it took, she would find him. She couldn't keep living like a shadow of herself, forever wondering who she was.