Chapter Text
The rescue foam was only supposed to fill the damaged support.
Instead, it filled the support, consumed the testing frame, crossed the marked safety boundary and swallowed Harley Keener’s left shoe.
Harley looked down at the expanding white material surrounding his ankle.
“Your calculation was wrong.”
Peter hung upside down from the ceiling above him, one hand holding the deployment canister and the other attempting to prevent a second stream from escaping its damaged valve.
“Our calculation.”
“I handled deployment.”
“You increased the pressure.”
“Because you said it could tolerate another thirty percent.”
“Twenty.”
“Those numbers are practically related.”
“They’re only related because they both end in zero.”
“That sounds like something Ned would say.”
“Ned understands percentages.”
“Ned has betrayed the engineering department.”
The canister hissed in Peter’s hands.
He tightened his grip around the damaged valve.
The foam continued expanding.
“Is it supposed to be doing that?” Harley asked.
“No.”
“Good. I wanted to make sure.”
Peter fired a web toward the emergency containment switch. The strand caught the lever and pulled it down.
Transparent barriers descended around the testing area.
The foam reached the nearest one, climbed halfway up its surface and stopped.
For several seconds, neither of them moved.
Harley pulled at his trapped foot.
Nothing happened.
“You could help,” he said.
“I’m containing the canister.”
“You could contain it from the floor.”
“I like the perspective up here.”
“You don’t want to admit you’re stuck.”
Peter looked at the webbing wrapped around one wrist and the canister valve caught beneath it.
“I’m temporarily attached.”
“That is what stuck means.”
The laboratory doors opened.
Tony Stark entered carrying a cup of coffee and wearing the expression of a man who had received an emergency alert but expected to be personally disappointed by whatever caused it.
He stopped inside the doorway.
His gaze travelled across the foam, the ruined testing frame, Harley’s trapped foot and Peter hanging from the ceiling.
“Four years at MIT,” Tony said.
Harley braced one hand against the table and pulled harder. “Six degrees between us.”
“And somehow none in reading warning labels.”
“We read the label,” Peter said.
“You ignored the label.”
“We disagreed with its limitations.”
Tony took a drink of coffee. “That sentence explains why I was banned from three laboratories before I turned twenty.”
Harley pointed toward him. “You see? He understands.”
“I understand the urge. I’m still questioning the execution.”
The foam crept another centimetre up the barrier.
Tony watched it.
“What concentration?”
“Three-point-four percent above the current public model,” Peter said.
“It was supposed to be three-point-two,” Harley added.
Peter looked down at him. “You adjusted the catalyst?”
“You changed the pressure.”
“You changed it first.”
“Children,” Tony said.
Both of them stopped.
Tony’s mouth twitched.
Peter narrowed his eyes. “You enjoyed that.”
“Immensely.”
“We’re twenty-three.”
“Harley is twenty-four.”
“Thank you,” Harley said.
Tony looked at him. “That makes this worse.”
He placed his coffee on an unaffected section of the counter and approached the barrier. Six years had added more silver to Tony’s hair and deeper lines around his eyes. He still looked younger than he had any right to, a fact about which he remained unbearably pleased, but Peter could see the years when Tony was tired or believed no one was watching.
He claimed it was excellent genetics, advanced medicine and conventional time being too intimidated to affect him properly.
Harley claimed it was expensive moisturizer.
Tony had threatened to remove him from the research division.
Nobody had believed him.
Tony studied the trapped testing frame.
“The expansion is uneven.”
“We noticed,” Peter said.
“After it ate the floor marker?”
“Just before.”
“Why didn’t ATHENA shut it down?”
“The mixture isn’t dangerous,” Harley explained. “She classified it as a non-emergency.”
From the laboratory speakers, ATHENA answered in her calm voice.
“The material presents no chemical, biological or structural threat. Mr. Keener’s foot remains uninjured.”
“It presents a threat to my shoe,” Harley said.
“Personal clothing does not qualify for emergency intervention.”
Tony picked up his coffee again. “I like her.”
“You programmed her.”
“Excellent design recognizes excellent design.”
Peter twisted carefully, freed his hand from the webbing and dropped from the ceiling. He landed beside the containment barrier with the damaged canister held away from his body.
“ATHENA, extraction unit.”
A compact rescue armor opened from the wall and crossed the laboratory. Unlike the armors Tony, Peter and Rhodey wore, it carried no weapons. White plates surrounded reinforced joints, and its broad hands had been designed for collapsed buildings, damaged vehicles and medical evacuations.
The unit took the canister from Peter and sealed it inside a containment compartment.
“Can you get Harley out?”
“Mr. Keener is not in danger.”
Harley folded his arms. “I’m beginning to dislike her.”
Tony crouched beside the foam and pressed one finger against its hardened edge.
“It’s stronger than the last version.”
“Twenty-one percent,” Peter said. “If we fix the expansion rate, a single canister could stabilize a residential support for forty minutes.”
“Thirty-eight,” Harley corrected.
“The forty-minute test hadn’t failed yet.”
“It filled the room.”
“The support remained standing.”
“Because the foam reached the ceiling.”
Tony looked between them. “You’re both right, which is unfortunate because it will encourage you.”
Peter smiled.
The first version of the material had already been deployed in rescue units across New York, New Asgard and three Wakandan outreach centres. It could seal breaks, reinforce damaged walls and hold crushed vehicles apart long enough for rescue teams to reach the people inside.
This version was meant to work faster.
It had accomplished that.
It had also eaten Harley’s shoe.
Tony straightened. “Keep the strength. Reduce the catalyst response and add a density cutoff so it stops expanding when it reaches the required load.”
“That was my suggestion,” Harley said.
“It was not,” Peter replied.
“It was going to be.”
“You cannot claim suggestions you hadn’t made yet.”
“I’ve been living with you too long.”
“We haven’t lived together in two years.”
“That has not reversed the damage.”
Peter moved toward the control panel. “ATHENA, soften the foam around Harley’s foot.”
A narrow beam extended from the rescue armor’s wrist. The foam darkened around Harley’s ankle and collapsed into powder.
Harley stepped free.
His shoe remained behind.
He looked down at his sock.
Tony took another drink of coffee.
“Excellent test.”
“It was a limited prototype failure,” Peter said.
“It stole his shoe.”
“We can put that in the report.”
“You are writing the report.”
Peter turned toward Harley.
Harley was already walking away.
“I handled deployment.”
The laboratory doors opened for him.
Peter pointed after him. “You changed the catalyst!”
“Prove it!”
“I have the revision history!”
Harley stopped.
Peter smiled.
“Ned restored it after you tried to delete it.”
Harley looked betrayed. “I miss when we could unplug his computer.”
“I heard that,” Ned said.
His face appeared across the nearest display.
Harley looked up. “Were you listening this entire time?”
“I received an alert when you accessed my control system at six this morning.”
“That was almost four hours ago.”
“I wanted to see how long it took you to admit you changed the catalyst.”
Harley picked up a piece of hardened foam and threw it at the display. It passed through Ned’s face and struck the wall.
Ned adjusted his glasses.
“Your aim has not improved.”
“You’ve betrayed engineering.”
“I work in cybersecurity.”
“Exactly. You went to MIT and chose crime.”
Ned’s gaze moved toward Peter. “You changed the pressure.”
“Thank you.”
“That was also a bad decision.”
Peter’s satisfaction disappeared.
Tony nodded. “That’s why we keep him.”
“You don’t employ me,” Ned said.
“I’ve offered.”
“Eleven times.”
“Twelve.”
“The last one was written on a napkin.”
“It was a binding napkin.”
Ned ignored him. “MJ wants to know if dinner is still happening.”
Peter looked at the time.
“Tonight?”
“That is generally when dinner happens.”
“I thought it was tomorrow.”
Harley began laughing.
Peter pointed at him. “You forgot too.”
“I remembered enough not to say it aloud.”
Ned disappeared briefly from the screen. When he returned, MJ stood beside him.
She looked exactly as unimpressed as Peter remembered from the first time she found him and Ned hiding beneath the bleachers.
“It’s in the group chat,” she said.
“There are too many messages in the group chat.”
“There were six.”
“Harley sends videos.”
“The videos are educational,” Harley said.
“You sent us forty-three minutes of a bear stealing lawn furniture.”
“It demonstrated persistence.”
MJ looked toward Peter’s ceiling. “Are you hanging upside down?”
“Not anymore.”
“That wasn’t reassuring.”
“We had a minor prototype problem.”
Harley lifted his shoeless foot into view.
MJ studied it.
“Did Peter do that?”
“Yes,” Harley answered.
“No,” Peter said at the same time.
MJ nodded. “So both of you.”
Tony picked up his coffee. “That’s what I said.”
“Dinner at seven,” MJ continued. “Ned and I are already coming into Manhattan. If any of you cancel, I will publish the photographs from first year.”
Harley became serious. “You said those were destroyed.”
“I lied.”
Peter looked toward Ned.
Ned avoided his eyes.
“Ned.”
“I work in cybersecurity. I understand backups.”
“The photograph was taken out of context.”
“You and Harley were asleep beneath a table wearing welding masks,” MJ said.
“There had been an explosion.”
“You were hiding from campus security.”
“The explosion created a complicated administrative situation.”
Tony looked delighted. “Send me the pictures.”
“No,” Peter and Harley said together.
MJ smiled faintly.
“Seven.”
The connection closed.
Tony waited.
Peter looked at him. “You’re not getting the pictures.”
“I paid for the table.”
“It belonged to MIT.”
“I paid for the building.”
“That was your fault.”
Tony placed one hand against his chest. “Most people express gratitude when someone funds their education.”
“You donated the building before we were born.”
“And yet you both damaged it personally.”
“The table survived.”
Harley looked at Peter. “Did it?”
“It existed afterward.”
“That was not the question.”
Tony began walking toward Peter’s workbench.
It occupied one side of the laboratory, surrounded by material samples, projected molecular structures and pieces of rescue technology at different stages of completion. Harley’s workspace stood opposite it. The division had lasted less than a week before their equipment began crossing the centre.
Tony had given them the laboratory two years earlier.
He still entered without knocking.
Peter had considered installing a lock. FRIDAY had informed him that Tony possessed administrative access to every door in the building.
Peter had considered changing that too.
Tony stopped beside the newest rescue-foam model. “You’re close.”
Peter followed him.
“We need to reduce the expansion without losing the strength.”
“No. You need to make it understand when it has done enough.”
Harley looked toward him. “That sounds suspiciously philosophical.”
“It’s engineering. Philosophy with better funding.”
Tony enlarged the internal structure. “The foam keeps expanding because every section reacts independently. Give the first hardened layer authority over everything that follows.”
Peter studied the projection.
“If the initial layer measured the pressure across the full structure…”
“The later sections could adjust before activating,” Harley finished.
Peter looked at him.
Harley was already moving toward the display.
They worked without discussing who would change which part. Peter rewrote the pressure thresholds while Harley adjusted the deployment model. Years of sharing classrooms, dorm rooms and laboratories had taught them how to move around one another without colliding.
Mostly.
Harley reached across Peter for a control.
Peter shifted the projection away.
“I was using that.”
“You were looking at it.”
“That is part of using it.”
“You can look from over there.”
Tony stepped back before either of them included him in the argument.
“FRIDAY, remind me why I put them together.”
“They have increased the rescue division’s successful development rate by fifty-one percent.”
“And the laboratory repair budget?”
“Forty-six percent.”
Tony sighed.
Peter looked over his shoulder. “Most of that was the ceiling.”
“The ceiling was expensive.”
“Thor landed on it.”
“After you told him it would support him.”
“It did.”
“It became the floor.”
“That means it continued supporting him.”
Tony pointed at him. “Your degree has made you worse.”
“I have several.”
“That has made you several times worse.”
Peter smiled and returned to the model.
Tony watched him for another moment.
His expression softened in the way it did when he believed Peter was too distracted to notice.
Peter noticed.
He no longer needed Tony to approve every design. Stark Industries manufactured three inventions carrying Peter’s name, and rescue services on four continents used systems he had helped create. He had presented research beside people whose work he once kept printed beneath his bed.
Tony still looked at him as though every successful design were surprising in exactly the way he had always expected.
Peter pretended not to see.
Tony pretended he had hidden it.
That was how they handled several things.
“Did you eat?” Tony asked.
Peter looked up. “Yes.”
“When?”
“This morning.”
“What?”
“Food.”
Harley moved subtly toward the door.
Tony noticed.
“You too.”
“I’m not legally yours.”
“That has never stopped anyone in this building.”
Harley considered that. “Disturbingly accurate.”
Peter closed the projection. “We’ll eat after we finish the revised simulation.”
“You’ll eat now.”
“I’m twenty-three.”
“Congratulations.”
“I’ve lived on my own.”
“You lived with Ned and Harley. That is not the same as independent survival.”
“We were highly functional.”
Harley laughed.
Tony looked at him. “You set a microwave on fire.”
“It was one time.”
“It was four.”
“The first three were Peter.”
“One was Ned,” Peter said.
“Ned was attempting to stop you.”
“He was still holding the microwave.”
Tony folded his arms.
Peter recognized the posture.
“Fine.”
“Say it as though you aren’t being oppressed.”
“I’ll eat lunch.”
“Excellent. Then we’re checking the suit.”
Peter stopped.
Harley reached the door.
“Coward,” Peter said.
Harley looked back. “I’m choosing life.”
The doors closed behind him.
Tony glanced toward Peter’s right side.
The bruise beneath his shirt had almost healed, but apparently not enough to escape whatever instinct allowed Tony to identify injuries through clothing.
“What happened?”
“Patrol.”
“That narrows it down to the activity you perform every night.”
“A wall happened.”
“Did the wall survive?”
“Mostly.”
“Suit.”
“It’s fine.”
“Suit.”
“KAREN already ran diagnostics.”
“KAREN considers you jumping between buildings recreational.”
“It is.”
“That is why I want the data.”
Peter leaned against the counter. “I’m an adult.”
“Yes.”
The immediate agreement threw him.
Tony stepped closer.
“You’re an adult. It’s your suit, your patrol and your decision. I’m asking you to let me look because I know you were hit hard enough to bruise through enhanced healing.”
Peter’s resistance weakened.
Tony had become better at that.
It was deeply inconvenient.
“The wall wasn’t the problem,” Peter admitted. “Someone threw a motorcycle.”
Tony stared at him.
“It wasn’t a very large motorcycle.”
“Was there a reason you left that out?”
“I knew you’d make that face.”
“What face?”
“The one you’re making.”
“I have several faces.”
Peter smiled. “You really don’t.”
Tony looked offended.
Then the green portal opened.
It appeared between the two laboratories, bright enough to reflect across every surface. FRIDAY lowered the nearest security barriers before Peter could move, then raised them again when a familiar figure stepped through.
Loki wore dark green armor beneath a long coat that belonged more naturally in New York than it did in any Asgardian court. He carried a narrow black case beneath one arm and a book in his other hand.
He looked first at Tony.
Then at Peter.
Then at the hardened foam covering half the testing area.
“I see Stark Industries remains committed to improving Midgard.”
Peter straightened. “It’s rescue material.”
“It has captured a shoe.”
“The shoe was not part of the test.”
“A fortunate clarification.”
Tony approached him. “You’re late.”
Loki stopped.
“I crossed three realms to retrieve something you requested yesterday.”
“So you admit you missed me.”
“I admit you are incapable of obtaining svartalfheim alloy without causing a diplomatic incident.”
“I could obtain it.”
“The last time you attempted to negotiate with a Svartalfheim trader, you informed him his vessel resembled an aggressively designed kitchen appliance.”
“It did.”
“He attempted to curse your bloodline.”
“He overreacted.”
Loki placed the case on the workbench Tony insisted did not belong to him.
It stood beside Tony’s own, fitted with green controls, magical containment circles and several tools nobody else in the building could safely touch. Loki kept books in the cabinet beneath it, spare armor inside one wall compartment and clothing in at least two rooms Tony claimed were not Loki’s.
FRIDAY illuminated the controls.
“Welcome back, Loki. Your tea is waiting.”
A panel opened beside the workbench.
Steam rose from a dark cup prepared exactly the way Loki preferred it.
Harley had returned with food and stopped inside the doorway.
He looked at Peter.
Peter shook his head.
“Don’t,” Tony warned.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You both became judgmental at the same time.”
Loki picked up the tea. “They have been doing that for six years.”
Tony looked toward him. “You noticed?”
Loki paused.
Harley quietly reversed direction.
Peter followed him.
“Cowards,” Tony called after them.
Peter accepted the sandwich Harley handed him and leaned against the outer wall.
Through the open doorway, Loki unlocked the black case.
Several dark metal fragments rose from inside it. Tony moved closer immediately, his irritation forgotten as he examined them.
Loki adjusted the projection above Tony’s wrist without asking.
Tony shifted to make room for him.
Their shoulders touched.
Neither moved away.
Harley bit into his sandwich.
“How much longer?”
“They’ve been doing this since before MIT.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“Nobody knows.”
“Have they kissed?”
“Not where anyone can prove it.”
“Do they share a house?”
“They both insist Loki visits.”
“Does he have a room?”
“He has several rooms.”
Harley watched Loki pass Tony one of the metal fragments. Tony took it without looking, already expecting where Loki’s hand would be.
“That’s embarrassing.”
“For us or them?”
“Everyone.”
Inside the laboratory, Tony turned.
“We can hear you.”
Peter took a larger bite.
Harley smiled. “Good.”
Loki appeared beside them without crossing the distance.
Harley startled.
Peter did not, although his senses still responded to the magic.
“You have both mistaken Anthony’s lack of boundaries for evidence of a personal attachment,” Loki said.
Tony remained beside the workbench. “My lack of boundaries?”
“You provided me with unrestricted access to the Tower.”
“You kept entering through walls.”
“You asked FRIDAY to prepare my tea.”
“You complained about the coffee.”
“You built a permanent magical workspace.”
“You damaged three temporary ones.”
“You placed my runes inside your armor.”
“They improved the shielding.”
“You keep clothing in my house,” Peter added.
Loki looked at him.
Peter continued eating.
“In New Asgard,” he clarified. “Tony’s house. Which is also my house, so I know.”
“Those garments are stored there for convenience.”
Harley nodded. “I also keep formal armor at the homes of people I’m not dating.”
Loki’s expression cooled.
Harley took one step behind Peter.
Tony smiled. “Don’t hide behind the spider. Own your choices.”
“I have no powers.”
“You chose this.”
Loki turned back toward Tony. “You are encouraging them.”
“I’m enjoying myself.”
“That is frequently the problem.”
Tony’s smile softened.
Loki held his gaze for one second too long.
Then he looked toward Peter.
“When are you returning to New Asgard?”
“Next week.”
“You said that last week.”
“I have work.”
“You possess a laboratory there.”
“Harley doesn’t.”
Harley raised one hand. “I would accept a laboratory.”
“No,” Tony said.
“Why?”
“Rocket visits.”
“That is not an explanation.”
“It is if you’ve met him.”
Loki sipped his tea. “The harvest celebration begins in eleven days.”
Peter looked at him. “I thought it was next month.”
“That celebration concerns the later crops. This one commemorates the first successful autumn harvest after New Asgard’s founding.”
“You added another festival.”
“Thor added another festival.”
“How many are there now?”
“Seven.”
Tony looked up from the alloy. “This season?”
“New Asgard has much to celebrate.”
“New Asgard likes parties,” Peter translated.
Loki ignored him. “Your room remains available.”
“I know.”
“Master Alrik has asked whether you intend to examine the western bridge.”
“I sent him the new support model.”
“He described it as needlessly cautious.”
“That means he likes it.”
“The forge apprentices have also begun altering the shield emitters you designed.”
Peter lowered his sandwich. “Without asking?”
“They assumed that would bring you home more quickly.”
“That is manipulative.”
Loki’s mouth curved faintly.
Peter pointed at him. “You told them to do it.”
“I merely mentioned that unauthorized modifications have reliably attracted your attention.”
Tony looked delighted. “I taught you that.”
“You taught me several forms of misconduct.”
Harley moved back toward his laboratory. “I’m going to revise the catalyst before New Asgard starts an international custody dispute.”
“It would not be international,” Loki said. “Peter is recognized as part of our royal household.”
“That does not make it better.”
Peter followed Harley long enough to place his food beside the controls.
Loki remained near the doorway.
“Axl has also asked when you will visit,” he said.
Peter’s expression softened. Heimdall’s six-year old son had inherited traces of his father’s sight, although what he saw still arrived in brief, unpredictable flashes.
“He has?”
“He intends to show you what he can see from the observatory.”
Axl’s sight had begun as flashes. Distant lights, people approaching before anyone else heard them and paths across the Bifrost that vanished before he could describe them. Heimdall had been careful not to encourage him to look farther than he was ready.
“I’ll come this weekend,” Peter said.
Peter did not live in New Asgard full-time, but he had never stopped living there. During MIT, the restored Bifrost had carried him home for holidays, long weekends and occasional family dinners that Thor declared too important to miss. Since joining Stark Industries, he visited even more often.
Loki nodded as though that had always been the expected answer.
“And your birthday?”
Peter groaned.
Harley looked interested. “What about it?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re turning twenty-four.”
“I know how birthdays work.”
“Do you?” Tony asked. “You tried to spend your twenty-first inside the laboratory.”
“We had a deadline.”
“The deadline was imaginary.”
“All deadlines are imaginary until someone misses one.”
Loki looked at Peter. “Thor wishes to know whether you will celebrate in New York or New Asgard.”
“He asked you to find out.”
“He did not phrase it as a request.”
Peter considered the suspicious lack of detail.
“Has he planned something?”
“No.”
“Loki.”
“I have answered your question.”
“You answered it inaccurately.”
“I have learned from Tony.”
Tony looked proud.
Peter sighed. “I’ll decide later.”
“You have six weeks,” Loki said. “Thor has already informed three realms.”
Peter stared at him.
“He has what?”
Loki vanished before Peter could reach him.
He reappeared beside Tony’s workbench.
Tony did not look up. “You’re not escaping through the portal until you explain that.”
“I am not responsible for Thor.”
“You’re his brother.”
“That has never granted control.”
Peter moved after him. “Three realms?”
The laboratory doors opened again.
This time, five people entered at once.
Kate Bishop came first, carrying her bow despite the signs throughout the Tower requesting that all weapons be secured outside civilian laboratory areas. Kamala followed in a partially formed uniform, purple light still fading around one hand. Cassie Lang walked beside America Chavez, both arguing about whether a portal counted as crossing the training-room boundary. Eli Bradley came last with his shield attached to his back.
Yelena entered behind them.
She looked at Tony.
“Your training room is broken.”
Tony closed his eyes.
“What did you do?”
“I did nothing.”
Kate pointed at Kamala. “She hit the eastern wall.”
“The wall moved,” Kamala said.
America folded her arms. “Walls don’t move.”
“That one did.”
“The obstacle course changes every ninety seconds,” Eli reminded them.
Kate looked at him. “Whose side are you on?”
“The side that reads the briefing.”
Yelena stepped around them. “The wall is not broken. It is bent.”
“That is a type of broken,” Tony said.
“Then you should build less fragile wall.”
“It’s vibranium-reinforced.”
Yelena considered that. “Kamala did very well.”
Kamala looked past her and saw Peter.
Her entire face brightened.
“Spider-Man!”
Peter glanced at the watch containing his suit.
“KAREN, did my identity become public while I was eating?”
Her voice answered quietly from his wrist.
“No, Peter.”
Kamala lowered her voice immediately.
“Sorry.”
Harley leaned toward Peter. “Excellent recovery.”
“I became excited,” Kamala whispered.
“You shouted his name from thirty feet away,” Kate said.
“No one else is here.”
Tony, Loki and Harley all looked at her.
Kamala adjusted her scarf.
“No one who doesn’t know.”
Yelena gestured toward the group. “They completed the exercise.”
“We did more than complete it,” Kate said. “We won.”
“The training room does not lose,” Tony replied.
“It surrendered.”
“It shut down because you damaged the power relay.”
“That sounds like surrender.”
Yelena looked toward Peter. “You watched part of exercise?”
ATHENA had placed the training feed on the corner of Peter’s display while he worked. He had seen enough to understand what happened.
“A little.”
Kamala stepped closer. “What did you think?”
Kate attempted to look uninterested.
Peter looked between them.
“You reached the target.”
Kate smiled.
“But Kamala crossed the room before confirming everyone else had cover.”
“I knew I could reach it,” Kamala said.
“You could. The problem was that Kate knew you could too and followed you.”
Kate lowered her bow. “I did not follow her.”
Yelena touched the control on her wrist.
A recording appeared above them.
Kate’s voice filled the laboratory.
Wait for me!
The image showed her sprinting after Kamala.
Kate studied it.
“The footage lacks context.”
“You said three words,” America replied.
“There was context before them.”
Peter enlarged the map. “Cassie and Eli stayed with the objective, which was good, but America had to choose between covering them and opening the exit. That left everyone separated.”
America nodded reluctantly.
“So we wait?” Kamala asked.
“Not always. Just make sure everyone knows before you move. If Kate had taken the upper route instead of following you through the centre, she could have covered you without leaving Cassie exposed.”
Kate examined the route.
“That would have worked.”
“It worked for Clint and Natasha during the false-city battle.”
Yelena smiled slightly. “Which is why this was exercise.”
Kate looked toward the door. “Did Clint design it?”
“Natasha.”
Everyone became quiet.
Yelena nodded. “Good. You are learning.”
Tony looked at the damaged training-room report appearing across his display.
“They are learning expensively.”
“You are billionaire,” Yelena said.
“I stay a billionaire by objecting when people bend vibranium walls.”
Cassie looked toward the rescue foam.
“What happened here?”
Harley pointed at Peter. “He changed the pressure.”
Peter pointed back. “He changed the catalyst.”
Kate glanced at Yelena. “This is the senior team?”
“Terrifying, yes?”
Kamala looked at Peter. “Can we use the foam?”
“No,” Tony said.
Peter answered at the same time.
“After we fix it.”
Tony turned toward him.
“What?”
“It would be useful in rescue training.”
“It stole a shoe.”
“We’ll make adjustments.”
Eli studied Harley’s sock. “Did it dissolve the shoe?”
“No,” Harley said. “It kept it.”
America smiled. “I want to use it.”
Tony pointed toward the door. “All of you out.”
Yelena began guiding them away.
Kamala looked back at Peter. “Are you training with us tomorrow?”
“I have work.”
“You always have work.”
“So do you.”
“That is different.”
Peter smiled. “I’ll try.”
Kate waited until Kamala had passed through the door.
Then she looked at the route Peter had suggested.
“Upper level?”
“Come in from the left,” Peter said. “The sensors are slower near the ceiling.”
Kate nodded once.
She left before anyone could call the exchange mentoring.
Yelena remained inside the doorway.
“You are good with them,” she told Peter.
“They’re good already.”
“That is why they are difficult.”
Tony pointed at her. “Do not encourage him to adopt an entire team.”
Peter stared at him. “I haven’t adopted anyone.”
Loki glanced toward Tony. “You understand the irony of that statement.”
Yelena looked between them. “Are you two together yet?”
Tony choked on his coffee.
Loki’s expression became entirely blank.
Yelena accepted their silence as an answer.
“No. Very sad.”
She left.
Harley leaned against the workbench.
“I like her.”
“You would,” Tony muttered.
Dinner happened at seven because MJ had correctly assumed that threats were more effective when supported by evidence.
Peter arrived in the Tower’s common dining room at six fifty-eight. Tony came thirty seconds later while pretending he had not hurried. Harley appeared at seven carrying the prototype data despite MJ’s message specifically prohibiting work.
Loki claimed he would return to New Asgard before the meal.
At seven fifteen, he was seated beside Tony.
Nobody mentioned it.
The dining room overlooked Manhattan through tall windows. The rebuilt Tower was taller than the old building and far less willing to allow alien armies through its upper floors. Tony had redesigned it while Peter finished Grade 12, constructing laboratories, medical levels, residential floors and a portal station connected to New Asgard.
Peter had lived there before MIT.
He still had a room.
Tony referred to it as Peter’s room even though Peter maintained an apartment of his own but also returned to New Asgard often enough that his room there had never stopped feeling like home.
Peter had stopped arguing.
Ned and MJ arrived together. Ned carried a tablet. MJ carried a folder she placed on the table before sitting.
Peter looked at it.
“What’s that?”
“Work.”
“You told Harley not to bring work.”
“I told all of you not to cancel dinner because of work. I made no promises about myself.”
Harley nodded approvingly. “She’s always been like this.”
“You brought prototype data,” Peter said.
“It was lonely.”
Ned took the seat beside Harley. “Is that why you slept with the thermodynamics notes during second year?”
“I fell asleep reading.”
“You tucked them beneath your pillow.”
“The radiator was broken.”
MJ looked toward Tony. “You told Peter college would make them normal.”
“I said college would expose them to normal people.”
“That didn’t happen either,” Ned said.
The food arrived and was placed on the table.
A separate plate appeared in front of Loki and Tony.
Peter noticed it was different then the rest of them.
“That’s not what we ordered.”
“Loki won’t eat the sauce.”
At the same moment, Loki looked toward Tony’s plate.
“Anthony dislikes the mushrooms.”
The table became quiet.
Tony looked around. “What?”
Harley picked up his drink. “Nothing.”
MJ looked at Peter. “Is it always this bad?”
“It’s worse in New Asgard.”
Loki appeared offended. “There is nothing occurring between us.”
Ned nodded. “That must be why you have a drawer in his bedroom.”
Tony turned toward Loki. “You have a drawer?”
“Your organization was intolerable.”
“You reorganized my bedroom?”
“Do you wish to continue denying the necessity?”
Tony considered it.
“No.”
Loki began eating.
Peter looked toward MJ.
She opened her folder.
“I’ve been researching the intergovernmental response to New Asgard’s restored Bifrost.”
Tony frowned. “Why?”
“Because seven countries have proposed restrictions on using it to enter their airspace.”
“The Bifrost doesn’t enter there airspace,” Peter said. “It creates a direct connection between locations.”
“I know.”
“Do they?”
“No.”
Loki looked interested. “Have they attempted to classify it as a vessel?”
“Three times. One proposal calls it an unregistered extraterrestrial transportation network.”
“It is older than every government objecting to it.”
“That has not stopped them.”
“It rarely does,” Tony said.
MJ passed the folder toward Loki. “They also want advance notice before anyone from New Asgard travels to somewhere else on earth.”
Loki read the first page.
“We provide advance notice.”
Tony looked at him. “You opened a portal into my laboratory without warning.”
“I sent a message.”
“When?”
“Immediately before I arrived.”
FRIDAY answered from the ceiling.
“The message was received zero-point-eight seconds before the portal opened.”
Loki looked up. “Advance notice. My magic is also not the same as the Bifrost, so it does not count.”
Ned laughed.
The conversation moved between the Bifrost, the Young Avengers’ training, Ned’s current security project and the rescue foam’s attempt to consume Harley.
It was easy.
That still surprised Peter sometimes.
At MIT, the four of them had built routines around classes, patrols and inventions that should not have been kept inside student housing. First year had placed Peter, Ned and Harley inside one triple room that was suspiciously large and conveniently chosen for them. MJ had lived across the hall but spent so much time with them that the residence staff included her in complaints involving their room.
Peter and Harley had covered every flat surface with machinery.
Ned had labelled the dangerous parts.
MJ had created rules.
Most of them still existed.
No experiments after two in the morning.
No alien technology inside the microwave.
No allowing Thor to enter through the window.
No portals during exams.
No hiding injuries until someone notices blood.
Peter suspected the final rule had been aimed entirely at him.
Tony had visited too often for someone insisting Peter needed independence. He arrived with food, equipment and increasingly weak excuses involving the laboratories he had funded years earlier.
Loki came less often.
His visits were rarely announced and always occurred when Peter needed them most.
During the first winter, when Peter had been overwhelmed by coursework, patrol and the conviction that he was failing at all of it, Loki appeared with food from New Asgard and remained until Peter fell asleep.
He claimed Thor had sent him.
Thor later denied it.
Peter never confronted Loki.
He understood the language of people doing kind things while pretending they were not.
Harley looked toward Tony. “You still haven’t admitted you arranged our room.”
“I did not.”
“Peter and Ned requested one another, and somehow I became the third person assigned to them.”
“Statistically unlikely things happen.”
“You donated the residence hall.”
“That is unrelated.”
Ned looked through the window toward the name displayed along the neighbouring building.
“Your name was on it.”
“It is on several buildings.”
“You visited during move-in before any parents arrived,” Peter added.
“I was in the area.”
“You brought a truck.”
“You needed equipment.”
“I needed sheets.”
“You got equipment.”
Harley pointed his fork toward Tony. “You knew we were assigned together before we did.”
“I conduct background checks.”
“On university housing?”
“On anyone living near Peter.”
Peter stared at him. “You background-checked an entire residence hall?”
“Only two floors.”
Loki looked at Tony. “You sent me records for the entire building.”
Tony looked betrayed.
“You were supposed to support me.”
“I did. Several residents were unsuitable.”
MJ slowly put down her fork. “You both investigated Peter’s dorm.”
“For safety,” Tony said.
“For efficiency,” Loki corrected.
Ned looked at Peter. “We should have charged them rent.”
Peter laughed.
Tony had spent six years insisting the assignment was accidental.
Peter no longer cared whether he believed him.
It had given him Harley.
Harley irritated him, stole his tools, changed variables without warning and once replaced every photograph in their apartment with images of Tony’s worst hairstyles.
He had also learned Peter’s identity during their first night at MIT when Spider-Man climbed through the window bleeding and removed his mask without checking whether the new roommate was awake.
Harley did not scream.
He got the medical kit.
They had been family ever since.
Peter looked around the table.
MJ was arguing with Loki about whether Asgardian diplomatic law applied to portal arrivals. Ned had begun reviewing the revised foam model. Harley was stealing food from Peter’s plate. Tony watched all of them while pretending to be distracted by the display above his wrist.
Six years had passed since Peter stood at his graduation and wondered what his future would become.
He had not expected this.
He should have.
His life had always been full of people appearing where he had not known to expect them.
Then of course the lights changed.
It was subtle.
The warm illumination across the dining room faded toward blue. Conversations stopped as FRIDAY spoke.
“Boss, an unscheduled connection is forming inside the portal station.”
Tony was standing before she finished.
“Identity?”
“New Asgard authorization. The signature belongs to Heimdall.”
Loki rose.
The humour disappeared from his face.
“He would not leave New Asgard without cause.”
The portal station stood two floors below them.
Peter reached it first.
He did not change into his suit. He crossed the stairwell, jumped the central railing and dropped between levels before catching the edge of the lower balcony.
Tony arrived through the elevator in partial armor.
Loki appeared beside the portal.
Harley, Ned and MJ followed despite nobody asking them to.
The circular platform brightened.
Unlike Strange’s portals, the permanent connection between Avengers Tower and New Asgard did not open into a ring of sparks. Blue light travelled through the conductors embedded in the floor, climbed the surrounding frame and folded the space at its centre.
New Asgard’s observatory appeared beyond it.
Heimdall stepped through carrying Hofund.
Bruce followed him with a tablet still clutched in one hand. He had apparently been working in the observatory when whatever caused the warning occurred. His expression was tense, and a faint green light moved behind his eyes.
Peter had seen Heimdall carry Hofund to ceremonies and council meetings, but never to the Tower.
His golden eyes burned.
Loki moved toward him.
“What happened?”
Heimdall looked at the people gathered behind him.
“Thor was patrolling Vanaheim’s eastern passage,” he answered. “He was expected to return tonight. He altered his course eighteen minutes ago.”
That silenced Loki.
Tony’s faceplate withdrew.
“Toward what?”
“A world named Nydis.”
Peter knew the name. Thor had travelled there twice during the last year. Nydis was one of several worlds that had joined the survivor alliance after Thanos’s defeat. New Asgard did not rule or formally protect those worlds, but it maintained communication with them and answered when they requested help that their own forces could not provide.
Its people lived across enormous floating islands protected by a being Thor described as old even by Asgardian standards.
“Vaelor,” Loki said.
Heimdall inclined his head.
Tony looked between them. “Who is Vaelor?”
“The guardian of Nydis,” Peter answered. “He controls the winds holding the islands above the surface.”
“What caused Thor to change direction?”
“I do not know,” Heimdall said. “I saw him leave the Vanaheim passage and turn toward Nydis. I followed his path until he reached the edge of the world.”
Heimdall tightened both hands around Hofund.
“Then I lost sight of him.”
No one spoke.
That answer changed the room.
Heimdall did not see everything, but Peter had watched him locate survivors beneath collapsed cities, follow ships across impossible distances and identify threats before they entered Earth’s system. Distance was a curtain other people had mistaken for a wall.
Loki’s expression became still.
“You lost Thor among the population?”
“I lost the population.”
Peter felt the first warning move beneath his skin.
It was not sharp enough to indicate immediate danger. It settled deeper, spreading across his shoulders and into the back of his neck.
“The entire planet?” Tony asked.
“Yes.”
Bruce stepped forward and raised his tablet. Every display showed the same empty field.
“I was helping Heimdall compare Bifrost energy readings with the interrealm network when it happened. Every signal connected to Nydis disappeared at the same time.”
“Communications failure?” Harley asked.
“No,” Bruce said. “The network was still reaching the coordinates. There was simply nothing answering from inside them.”
Ned studied the readings. “Like the planet disappeared?”
“Not physically. Its gravity remained. So did the energy surrounding its atmosphere.” Bruce looked toward Heimdall. “But we couldn’t detect anything happening on the surface.”
Loki glanced toward the active portal.
“An absence of light would not prevent your sight.”
“This was not an absence,” Heimdall said. “Something moved across the world and separated everything beneath it from my sight. I could see the paths surrounding Nydis. I could see the light leaving its stars and the vessels approaching its atmosphere.”
His eyes brightened further.
“But where the planet should have been, there was only darkness.”
“How long?” Tony asked.
“Twelve minutes.”
“And Thor was inside it?”
“Yes.”
Loki’s magic gathered around his hands.
Tony moved half a step closer to him.
“What happened after?” Peter asked.
“The darkness withdrew.”
Heimdall looked beyond them, through the Tower and toward something none of the others could see.
“Nydis returned to my sight. I saw Vaelor dead with no one around him.
Ned looked toward him. “If Vaelor controlled the winds…”
“They are failing,” Heimdall said.
“Was anyone else attacked?” Peter asked.
“Not directly. Whatever killed Vaelor had already departed when the darkness lifted. The danger now comes from the collapse of the islands.”
Loki turned toward the portal. “Why has Thor not contacted us?”
“He has.”
Bruce touched his tablet.
“The network reconnected as soon as the darkness cleared. Heimdall opened the Tower portal while I established a stable channel.”
FRIDAY illuminated the communication array surrounding them.
“Connection to Thor established.”
Wind filled the portal station.
It was followed by distant shouting, tearing stone and a crack of thunder powerful enough to distort the channel.
“Loki,” Thor said.
Loki reached the communicator first.
“I am here. What happened?”
“I received Nydis’s distress signal while crossing Vanaheim. The message ended before it identified the threat.”
Another blast of wind struck the connection.
“When I arrived, darkness covered the world. Stormward provided enough light for me to descend, but I could see nothing beyond it. When the darkness withdrew, I found Vaelor dead.”
“Did you see his attacker?”
“No.”
Thor’s voice strained.
Behind him, something enormous cracked.
“The eastern islands are falling. I have bound three together with lightning, but the foundations beneath the western settlements have begun to separate. Their evacuation vessels cannot carry everyone.”
Tony moved toward the nearest display.
“How long do we have?”
“The smallest islands have minutes. The others may survive longer if the winds do not fail completely.”
Peter activated the projection above his watch. A map of Nydis appeared, incomplete but sufficient for him to see the scale of the inhabited islands.
“How many people?”
“More than their vessels can move before the collapse.”
Tony looked at Peter.
Peter was already activating his suit.
Red-and-gold nanites spread beneath his clothes, covering his arms and chest before climbing his neck. His mask remained open.
“You need rescue systems,” Peter said.
“We need several,” Thor answered before Tony could object. “The western island is breaking in six places. I cannot hold it and the eastern settlements together.”
Harley moved toward the map.
“Peter’s support webbing and rescue foam could secure the smaller breaks. KAREN can map the safest evacuation paths while he works.”
Ned opened the network controls. “I can support him from here and send structural data through his suit.”
MJ looked toward Tony. “This is not the part where telling him to stay accomplishes anything.”
“I know,” Tony said. “I’m remembering when none of you helped him argue with me.”
“We were teenagers,” Peter replied.
“You were easier to intimidate.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“That’s true.”
Peter’s helmet remained open as he looked toward the communicator.
“Thor, I’m coming.”
“I had assumed as much.”
Tony’s armor spread across his shoulders.
Peter glanced at him. “You’re coming too?”
“Someone needs to stop you from testing the experimental rescue foam on an inhabited island.”
“It works.”
“It ate a shoe.”
Thor was silent for a moment.
“Why was the shoe injured?”
“It wasn’t,” Peter said.
“It was stolen,” Harley corrected.
“Not helping.”
Bruce placed his tablet into Ned’s hands.
“Hulk wants to help.”
Peter looked at him.
Bruce’s eyes flashed green again.
Hulk’s voice moved inside his thoughts.
Bruce listened for a moment.
“He also says Thor should not hold up all the islands alone.”
Despite everything, Peter smiled faintly.
Thor heard him through the channel.
“Tell Hulk I welcome his assistance.”
Bruce’s shoulders relaxed.
“He heard you.”
The green light behind his eyes strengthened.
“I agree with him. If there are sections too large for the rescue armor, he should already be out when we arrive.”
Bruce closed his eyes.
The transformation travelled through him quickly. His body expanded, his skin changed and the floor reinforced itself beneath his increasing weight.
When Hulk opened his eyes, Bruce remained conscious behind them.
Hulk rolled his shoulders.
“Hulk holds islands.”
Tony looked up at him. “Pieces of islands. Let’s establish reasonable expectations before we leave.”
“Hulk decides what counts as piece.”
“That is exactly what concerns me.”
Loki turned toward Heimdall.
“Vision and Wanda?”
“Waiting in the observatory,” Heimdall answered.
“Bring them through,” Tony said. “Vision can reach the unstable sections without adding weight to them. Wanda can hold debris away from the evacuation routes.”
FRIDAY opened another display.
“Carol remains outside communications range.”
“Keep trying,” Tony said. “Alert Steve and Natasha. Have them coordinate with New Asgard and the survivor alliance in case Nydis needs additional help. Let them know we’ll be offworld.”
“Understood.”
Peter looked toward Heimdall.
“Could this be connected to the Stones?”
The question hurt more than he expected.
The physical Stones were gone. Their energies had returned to the universe, divided and dispersed so that no one could gather them again.
They had checked.
They had continued checking for years.
Strange monitored time. Loki watched the pathways once connected to the Tesseract. Vision’s replacement stone remained stable. None of them had found evidence that destroying the Stones had damaged what they represented.
Heimdall answered without hesitation.
“No. This darkness is not the consequence of what we did.”
Peter exhaled.
The relief lasted less than a second.
“Then what is it?”
“I do not yet know.”
Loki’s magic moved around his hands.
“Vaelor was not easily killed.”
“No,” Heimdall said.
“How was he wounded?”
“One strike.”
Hulk stopped moving.
Tony’s expression hardened.
Thor spoke through the channel.
“The wound contains a darkness I cannot identify. Stormward reacts whenever I pass near the body.”
Loki looked toward the communicator.
“How?”
“It pulls toward him.”
Heimdall’s gaze sharpened.
“Do not allow Stormward to touch the wound.”
Thor did not question him.
“I will remain clear of it.”
A roar of wind consumed the channel.
“The western island is breaking. I must go.”
“Thor—”
The connection ended.
For one moment, Loki stared at the silent communicator.
Then he turned toward the portal.
“I am going.”
Tony caught his wrist.
The movement stopped both of them.
It was not forceful.
It did not need to be.
“Not alone,” Tony said.
Loki looked down at Tony’s hand.
“We have not identified the threat.”
“Excellent reason to bring backup.”
“Anthony.”
“No.”
The word carried six years of arguments.
Loki could cross worlds. Tony could build armor capable of surviving them. Neither had learned to allow the other to enter danger without trying to follow.
“You possess no experience with Nydis,” Loki said.
“I possess experience with collapsing structures, impossible weapons and people who believe one warning should be enough.”
Loki’s gaze moved toward Peter.
Peter’s armor finished forming.
Harley lifted both hands.
“I’m staying here. I enjoy planets with stable ground.”
Ned looked at the foam still covering part of the laboratory through the security feed.
“We’ll manage technical support.”
MJ glanced toward Peter. “Bring everyone home.”
“We will.”
The portal brightened behind Heimdall.
Vision and Wanda waited inside the observatory. Vision’s white-gold stone glowed at his forehead, while Wanda’s magic surrounded both hands.
Steve and Natasha stood behind them, already speaking with New Asgard’s commanders and requesting ships from the survivor alliance.
Hulk entered the portal first.
Peter followed him.
Tony finally released Loki’s wrist, only to step through beside him.
“We get the people safe,” Tony said. “Then we find out what did this.”
Heimdall returned Hofund to the observatory controls.
The Bifrost awakened.
Peter’s helmet closed.
Nearly seven years had passed since Thanos came to Earth.
Peter had finished school. He had built a life, a career and inventions that saved people he would never meet. The Avengers had rebuilt their home. New Asgard had restored its roads to the universe.
The worlds Thanos failed to destroy had grown around the damage he left behind.
Beyond the portal, gold spread through blue as Heimdall opened the path toward Nydis.
Somewhere beyond his sight, something had begun hunting gods.