ã€ŠMarvel: Blood in the Waterã€‹


 Pilot

    The year was 2024. A motorcycle roared down an empty road through grassy plains, with not a single person in sight and no source of light to be found. Only the bike''s headlights pierced the darkness, illuminating the path ahead and casting shadows that danced on the ground. The air was heavy with the scent of rain, and the biker felt the first drops splatter against the visor of his helmet.

    He slowed down, pulling to the side, and lifted the visor to pull out his phone. "Ugh... the helmet won''t let my Face ID scan, and these gloves are useless for scanning my fingerprint" he groaned, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Fortunately, he managed to unlock the phone using a pattern lock¡ªa relic of a bygone era. As he did, the screen flickered to life, revealing his current location.

    Navigating through the map, he saw the rain intensify, droplets cascading onto his phone screen. He selected a spot on the map. "It''s a few minutes off the main road, but it''s the nearest town. Traveling in this downpour would be foolish... I''d rather find shelter for the night and start my journey tomorrow."

    He shoved the phone back into his pocket, the weight of uncertainty settling in his gut, and got back on the bike. He drove slowly over the uneven streets, caution overriding the urge to speed. Five minutes later, he spotted a diversion from the main road, but to his surprise, there was no sign indicating where he was headed or how far it was.

    Trusting Google Maps and his instincts, he veered off the main road and headed toward the town marked on the screen. The road grew rockier, with patches of mud threatening to swallow the bike whole. Yet he pressed on, his determination unwavering. Soon, a light flickered in the distance, a beacon against the dreary backdrop of the storm.

    "Looks like I''ve reached my destination," he sighed in relief, increasing his speed. Almost soaked through, he was grateful that the bag on his back had a rain cover, protecting his belongings from the relentless rain.

    As he approached, he saw that the light was a bulb attached to a welcome signboard, but curiously, there was no town name displayed. That seemed odd, but he didn''t have time to ponder it further. The night was closing in, and he was eager for shelter.

    Soon enough, he saw houses lining both sides of the road, but they were all in ruins, abandoned to the elements. The flickering lamps along the way created an eerie ambiance, illuminating the shattered windows and crumbling facades. "If this is an abandoned town, why is there still electricity here?" he wondered, spotting a large mansion on his right. The structure appeared dilapidated but still stood tall, enough to provide temporary refuge from the storm.

    The biker turned in and entered through the gates of the estate, stopping just under the stairs where it was dry. The mansion''s door was closed, and the interior was shrouded in darkness, so he decided to stay outside for now. He parked the bike, removed his helmet and gloves, and settled on the stairs, catching his breath. In his late twenties, with short black hair and brown eyes, he had a tall and lean build¡ªathletic but not overly muscular.

    He took out a cigarette and a lighter from his bag, lighting it with a flick of his thumb. The familiar ritual calmed him slightly as he inhaled deeply. After a few puffs, he glanced at his phone again, but it displayed "No Service." With a resigned sigh, he tossed it back into the bag, the sensation of isolation creeping in once more.

    Suddenly, he noticed a flickering light coming from inside the mansion. "What the heck?" he muttered, turning to see that the entire house was now illuminated, as if a party was happening inside. "How did all the lights turn on in this rundown mansion?" he thought, rising to investigate.

    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    As he approached the door, he recalled that it had been closed when he arrived. Yet now, it was slightly ajar, as if inviting him in. His heart raced with curiosity and a hint of apprehension. He pushed the door open, and the atmosphere shifted dramatically.

    Inside, there were not just a few people, but a throng. The once-silent space was now filled with laughter and music, a cacophony of sound that startled him. He took a moment to absorb the scene, feeling like an intruder in a world he didn''t belong to. To his relief, the rest of the town remained eerily silent and destroyed, untouched by the revelry within.

    He scanned the room, noticing that the guests were all dressed in attire reminiscent of the 1940s. Men in sharp suits and women in elegant dresses swirled around, glasses clinking in celebration. "Is this some kind of themed party?" he wondered, spotting several serving staff carrying trays of food and drinks.

    "Excuse me?" he called out, stepping forward, but as he did, the music and chatter suddenly ceased. Every eye in the room turned toward him, and an unsettling silence enveloped the space. The lights began to dim, casting shadows across the faces of the guests.

    "Wait, what''s happening? Is this some kind of sick prank?" Panic surged through him as the crowd started rushing toward him, their expressions a mix of curiosity and something darker. Just as they took a few steps closer, a sudden wave of water surged from nowhere, pushing them all back. Confused, he looked behind him and realized he was falling backward into water.

    He flailed his arms, desperately trying to grab onto something, but there was nothing to hold onto. The water enveloped him, and he found himself submerged as if he had plunged into the deep ocean. The icy grip of the water shocked him, and he struggled to swim, his instincts kicking in.

    He fought to reach the surface, but the light above him grew dimmer, swallowed by the depths. His body felt heavier, weighed down by the water, and he was losing the fight against the rising panic. "This can''t be happening!" he thought, his mind racing as he kicked harder, desperate for a breath.

    As he sank deeper, flashes of memories flickered through his mind¡ªhis life before this moment, the mundane troubles that now felt trivial compared to the dread of drowning. He thought of his family, friends, and the road that had led him here, all of it washed away in the darkness.

    "Jared... Jared... are you alright?"

    The voice broke through the chaos, pulling him from the depths of despair. He turned his head, eyes widening as he recognized the figure emerging through the water. It was a woman, her features ethereal and her expression filled with concern. She reached for him, her hand extending through the murky depths.

    "Take my hand!" she urged, her voice clear amid the swirling water. With a surge of hope, he grasped her hand, feeling warmth radiate from her touch, cutting through the cold that engulfed him.

    Just as he thought he might slip away, a surge of energy coursed through him. The water around them began to shift, swirling with purpose as he felt a strange connection forming between him and the depths. It was as if the water itself was responding to his thoughts, bending to his will.

    With newfound strength, he kicked upward, pulling the woman along with him. Together, they burst through the surface, gasping for air as they emerged from the water. The scene around them transformed, the mansion and its guests fading into the background, replaced by a tranquil sea under a starlit sky.

    Jared looked around, bewildered by the sudden shift. The woman beside him smiled reassuringly, her eyes sparkling with an otherworldly light. "You''re safe now," she said softly, her voice echoing against the gentle waves.

    "Who are you?" he managed to ask, still trying to comprehend the surreal turn of events.

    "I am a guide," she replied, her gaze steady. "You possess a power you have yet to understand. This world holds secrets, and your journey has only just begun."

    As the moonlight danced on the water, Jared felt a sense of clarity wash over him. The fears that had haunted him began to fade, replaced by an overwhelming sense of purpose. He was no longer just a lost biker; he was Jared Parker.

    "Let''s see what you can do," the woman said, her smile inviting him to embrace the unknown.

    And in that moment, as the tides shifted around them, he knew that he was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

    **

    patreon.com/lazarus898

 Into the World of Marvel

    Jared... whose Jared? And why did this pressure on my body refuse to go away? Where was I? Was I really drowning? I found myself asking questions for which I had no answers.

    "Haaaa." Suddenly, all the pressure on my chest vanished, and I jolted awake. I immediately sat up straight, my mouth opening wide as I gasped for air. The relief of that breath was unlike anything I had ever experienced. It felt as if I had just returned from the very gates of hell.

    How did I know I was heading to hell, you ask? Easy. The things I had done in my life would ensure that I would never see the gates of heaven.

    With my eyes still tightly shut, I feared what I might see when I opened them. Was this what they called fear? It had been a long time since I had felt such a grip of terror.

    "Jared, are you alright?" A female voice reached my ears again, laced with concern. I sensed the worry in her tone.

    I took another deep breath and opened my eyes, trying to comprehend my surroundings. A soft yet firm hand gripped my cheeks, directing my gaze to the side.

    "Aunt May?" The name slipped from my lips as I recognized the woman sitting at the edge of my bed. She resembled the actress who played Aunt May in the new Spider-Man movies. I didn''t know her real name, but why was she here?

    "You''re sweating all over, Jared. Your viral fever seems serious now," she said, placing her palm on my forehead.

    "What are you¡ªaghhhh!" Just as I was about to ask her, a splitting headache surged through me, forcing me to clutch my head with both hands and lie back on the bed. I stifled a scream, pressing my jaw to suppress any sound. It felt as if someone were pouring hot water directly into my brain.

    As the pain intensified, a whirlwind of memories began to flash through my mind. They all spoke at once, creating an unbearable noise that deepened my suffering.

    I saw myself standing in a cemetery... in front of me were two tombstones. Who were they? The names read: Richard Parker... Mary Parker.

    Parker? Did I know any Parkers? While I pondered this, I felt a tug on my sleeve. I looked down and saw a child standing beside me. He looked up with his beady dark brown eyes and asked, "Big brother, why are we here? Where are Mom and Dad?"

    I wanted to ask the kid who he was, but tears began to stream down my own cheeks. I tried to wipe them away so no one would see, but I had no control over my body. I realized that this was a memory.

    My hands instinctively caressed the child''s face, pulling him closer to hug my waist as I said, "They''ve gone on a trip, like they always do, Peter. I''m sure they''ll be back soon."

    The little boy nodded, though he appeared sad, as if he were starting to grasp the gravity of our situation.

    I was about to delve deeper into this memory when something clicked... Peter... Parker... Aunt May? How was this possible?

    "Kids, let''s go back home. I think it''s going to rain," the same female voice called out, prompting me to turn back along with Peter.

    This was her¡ªthe woman who had woken me up¡ªAunt May.

    "Can we get ice cream on the way home, Aunt May?" Little Peter asked, his eyes lighting up with hope.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    "Of course we can." Aunt May, now looking a little younger, smiled and turned to me. "Let''s go, Jared."

    In an instant, the memory froze, and a flood of new memories began to emerge in my mind. I was reliving the life of Jared Parker, the older brother of Peter Parker. Once a supportive brother, I had become someone who hardly checked in on my little brother.

    After our parents'' death, I had kept myself busy by hanging out with friends, playing video games, and engaging in activities that involved little family interaction, except during breakfast. Peter, who was also a nerd, didn''t bother me much as he had found a friend in a chubby kid named Ned. The two of them would play on Mary''s old computer while I holed up in my room with Richard''s computer.

    I opened my eyes again and realized I had returned to the present. Aunt May was watching me as I lay on the bed. I sat up slowly and said, "I feel better now, Aunt May."

    "Feel better? What do you mean, feel better? You''re sweating all over and just screamed while holding your head," she said, moving closer, causing me to instinctively retreat.

    "I know, Aunt May, but¡ª" I started, but she quickly placed a thermometer in my mouth. I was caught off guard and sat there, unsure how to respond to her overwhelming care.

    After a minute, she took out the thermometer, blocking my view of the reading.

    She eyed me with suspicion before saying, "Even if your fever is gone now and your temperature is normal, you can''t go to the beach with your friends today. Just because you''re a sophomore in high school doesn''t mean you can wander around as you please."

    ''Peter would be out saving the world at my age (16), and I can''t even go to the beach...'' I muttered under my breath, but Aunt May didn''t hear me, nor did she seem to care.

    "I''ll make some chicken soup. It''s almost time for Peter to come home from school," she said, turning to leave the room.

    I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Memories of my childhood, filled with laughter and shared moments with Peter, began to surface. I remembered the day we went to the park, how we''d spend hours playing catch, or how he would look up to me with admiration. Those times felt like a lifetime ago.

    As the moments passed, I wondered what had happened to that bond. The guilt weighed heavily on me. I had let my brother down in his time of need, retreating into my own world of distractions while he had struggled to cope with our parents'' death.

    The door creaked open, and Aunt May returned, carrying a bowl of steaming chicken soup. "Here, eat this. It will help you feel better," she said, setting it on the nightstand beside me.

    "Thanks, Aunt May," I replied, taking the bowl and savoring the aroma. As I began to eat, I contemplated the life I had chosen, the choices that had led me away from my family, and the path I needed to reclaim.

    "Jared," she said, her tone shifting to one of concern. "You need to talk about what you''re feeling. Bottling everything up isn''t healthy."

    I glanced up, surprised by her insight. "I... I don''t know what to say," I admitted.

    "Start with how you felt after your parents'' passing. It''s okay to grieve," she urged gently.

    Taking a deep breath, I looked into her caring eyes. "I thought I had to be strong for Peter. I didn''t want him to see me upset. So I just buried myself in distractions..."

    Aunt May nodded, encouraging me to continue. "And how did that work out for you?"

    "It didn''t. I ended up feeling more alone than ever, like I was just going through the motions," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper.

    She reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder. "You''re not alone, Jared. You have me, and you have Peter. We''re family. We need to stick together."

    Those words pierced through the fog of my guilt and despair. Perhaps it wasn''t too late to mend the rift I had created. Perhaps there was still a chance to be the brother Peter needed.

    As I finished the soup, I felt a renewed sense of determination. I had to reach out to Peter, to show him that I was still there for him, no matter how lost I had been. It was time to rebuild what had been broken.

    "Thanks for the soup, Aunt May. I think I''ll go find Peter when he gets home," I said, a smile beginning to form on my lips.

    "That sounds like a great idea," she replied, her eyes sparkling with hope.

    As I contemplated the journey ahead, I realized that I had a long way to go. But for the first time in a long while, I felt ready to take that first step.

    **

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 The Tide of Change

    Jared''s POV

    As Aunt May left the room, I stood and walked toward the window. The world outside bustled with life, people chatting and laughing as they went about their daily routines, blissfully unaware of the dark future looming ahead.

    If someone had told me that such a reality could exist, I wouldn''t have believed it. Even now, it felt as if I were trapped in a dream. Yet the memories of Jared Parker were becoming increasingly vivid, and I felt as though I had truly lived his life. I had experienced the anguish of losing his parents and the resolve he made never to show weakness again.

    In my previous life, I hadn''t had younger siblings, but how challenging could they be? While I contemplated how to navigate this new existence and blend in as the original Jared, I heard the door close in the hallway.

    "Aunt May... I''m home."

    "Oh good! I just told Jared you would be coming."

    "How is he, by the way? I don''t remember him ever being this sick."

    "Why don''t you ask him yourself? He''s in his room."

    I heard the hallway floor creak, followed by a knock on the door. "You alive?"

    If only he knew his brother was really gone, I thought, quickly sitting back on the bed. "Yeah... come in."

    The door opened, and Peter walked in. I wasn''t surprised to see a younger Tom Holland stepping through. Yes, I knew his real name¡ªhe was famous enough.

    "You really are short," I blurted out as he approached the bed.

    "What?" he replied, looking up from his phone before stuffing it into his pocket and dropping his backpack onto the floor.

    He regarded me with a hint of awkwardness. Did he recognize me? But then I remembered that the brothers hadn''t spent much time together in recent years.

    "Don''t listen to anything Aunt May says. My fever is already gone, and I feel just fine," I said, trying to get straight to the point. Peter nodded and replied, "Aunt May''s chicken soup will have you back on your feet in no time." He hesitated for a moment before adding, "Jared, there''s something I want to talk to you about."

    "Sure, what is it?" I asked, my mind racing with possibilities. Is he starting to feel funny in certain places at this age? Is he that much of a nerd? Just then, Aunt May called from the kitchen.

    "Get in here, both of you. The soup''s ready!"

    Peter glanced at me and said, "It''s actually nothing important. Let''s go." We both left the room and entered the kitchen. On the way, I caught sight of a few old photos of Peter and me with Aunt May, and one of my parents cradling Peter as a baby.

    As I stepped into the kitchen, I saw a small dining table set in the middle and a TV mounted on the wall. Aunt May turned around, holding two bowls of soup.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    "Peter, turn on the TV. I didn''t have time to catch the news this afternoon," she instructed. Peter switched on the TV and began flipping through channels as he took a seat at one of the chairs.

    My hunger overshadowed my curiosity about this world, so I focused all my attention on the steaming bowl of chicken soup in front of me. As I began to eat, a news report caught my ear.

    "After the death of Ivan Vanko, the FBI has turned its attention to Justin Hammer and Hammer Industries. While some opposition to Tony Stark''s heroism persists due to the technology he possesses, the support for Iron Man is immense."

    I glanced up at the TV, watching Justin Hammer evade cameras and reporters alongside his legal team. On the opposite side of the screen, a photo of Tony Stark in his Iron Man suit flashed.

    "He is so handsome," Aunt May said, gazing dreamily at Tony Stark''s image, while Peter chimed in, "That suit looks so cool!"

    I looked at them, both captivated by the same man, then returned my focus to the soup. It was delicious¡ªPeter hadn''t lied when he said the soup would restore my health.

    But then a realization hit me: Ivan Vanko was dead. That meant the Iron Man 2 plot was over. I lived in Queens, and oh no... the next major event in the MCU timeline was the Avengers. This meant the Chitauri army would invade New York.

    I turned to Aunt May and asked, "Aunt May, how far is Stark Tower from here?"

    Both she and Peter turned to me with curious expressions.

    "I think it''s maybe close to an hour away. But why do you want to go there?" Aunt May asked.

    "Nothing much. I just wanted to see what this genius is building," I replied casually.

    "Jared, I don''t think it would be useful to go there now. From what I''ve read in recent posts on Reddit, the tower is far from being ready, and it will take at least eight months for Tony Stark to move in," Peter said excitedly. I didn''t want to hear more of his nerdy musings, so I simply nodded with a smile, which was enough to satisfy him.

    This meant some of the Chitauri army could arrive sooner than expected, and since I existed in this world, the chances of MCU events changing were high. Every breath I took in this universe could lead to alterations, and due to the butterfly effect, even small changes could have monumental consequences.

    Holy shit... am I a nerd too? I thought, but I decided to stop overthinking and actually do something.

    I finished my soup and announced, "Aunt May, I''m going out for a while. I''ll be back by dinner." I returned to my room, changed into more comfortable clothes, and grabbed my ancient iPhone 4s.

    As I left the house, I decided to explore the neighborhood and familiarize myself with the area. I passed several people who recognized me, and as their faces flashed in my mind, Jared''s opinions about them quickly followed.

    There''s not much to see here. Didn''t Aunt May mention going to the beach? Maybe I should check it out. Using the Maps app, I found my way to the beach.

    Upon arriving, I saw families enjoying picnics while teenagers played volleyball nearby. I scanned their faces, but none stood out as Jared''s acquaintances. The hot weather prompted me to dip my legs in the water. I rolled up my pants and made my way toward the shoreline, watching as children splashed joyfully with their parents.

    Ignoring the laughter around me, I stepped into the water and immediately felt something strange beneath my feet. I pulled back, wondering if I had stepped on something, but the bottom was clear.

    I ventured back in, but the sensation returned. This time, it felt soothing rather than alarming. I took a few more steps until the water reached my knees.

    Just as I was about to enjoy the calming sensation again, I noticed a wave approaching. It wasn''t large, but it would be enough to soak my pants, and walking home in wet clothes would be embarrassing.

    "Come on, can''t you go around without disturbing the water?" I muttered, preparing to step back. But before I could, the wave split and flowed around me, leaving the water surrounding me undisturbed.

    I couldn''t help but touch the water around my feet, marveling at how stable it felt¡ªas if I stood in a swimming pool that hadn''t moved for minutes.

    Holy shit, I screamed in my mind.

    **

    I was hoping you could support me on P@treon at [email protected]</a>/lazarus898 to unlock 25 advanced Chapters!!!

    Help me Climb the power rankings by voting with more Power stones

    To Give Subscribers on Patreon https://[email protected]/lazarus898/gift</a> (Totally unnecessary)

 Caught Between Waves and Watchers

    Jared''s POV

    As I gazed down at the tranquil water lapping around my legs, a sudden vibration in my pocket jolted me from my thoughts. The disturbance was unexpected, and in an instant, the thin thread of concentration I''d maintained unraveled, forcing me to stumble backward just as a new wave nearly soaked my tracks. I fished out my phone.

    ''Ryan Calling.''

    In my memories, Ryan was a familiar face¡ªa classmate I hung out with nearly every day. I answered the call, but before I could utter a single word, a girl''s voice blared through the speaker, sharp and unmistakably annoyed.

    "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN, YOU IDIOT? I''VE BEEN CALLING SINCE MORNING, AND YOUR PHONE WAS OFF. WE HAD TO CANCEL ALL OUR PLANS!"

    I considered explaining Jared''s absence and why his phone had been off, but a second voice cut in before I could even try.

    "Give me the phone, Maya. Don''t chew his head off before he has a chance to explain. Why do you two always go at each other like rabid dogs? Jared? Jared, you still there?"

    "Uh¡­ yeah, Ryan," I replied, trying to mask my hesitation.

    "You didn''t come to school today. Is Everything alright?" Ryan''s tone was softer, tinged with concern.

    "Yeah, I just woke up with a fever, couldn''t even get out of bed. I think Aunt May must have turned off my phone so I could rest."

    "WHAT? YOU HAD A FEVER?" Maya''s voice crashed through the line again, loud and disbelieving. "Did you go to the beach alone last night and catch a cold because of that?"

    I took a slow, calming breath before answering. "No, Maya. But I''m at the beach now¡ªI feel fine. Must have just been a viral thing."

    "Oh sure, because going to the beach right after a fever is a totally sane thing to do," she retorted, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

    "Maybe to you it isn''t. Anyway, I''m heading home. I''ll see you at school tomorrow."

    "Wait¡ªdon''t hang up! We could come meet you¡­ HEY RYAN...GIVE THE PHONE BACK TO ME!" Her words faded out in a scuffle before Ryan''s voice returned.

    "See you tomorrow, Jared. Maybe Maya can let you live for just one day, huh?" He chuckled, ending the call with a sense of exasperation.

    "Ryan might be the only one holding that friend group together," I muttered, rolling my tracks down and turning toward home.

    I''d wanted to spend more time exploring the neighborhood, maybe even meeting Jared''s friends to see if they might be useful. But the strange encounter with the water had changed my priorities. In a way, I felt a thrill of anticipation about coming to this world. After all, plenty of humans here had achieved greatness without superpowers. But now, if there was even the slightest possibility that I had one, I could dive into the whole Avengers mess with something more than pure guts. I did want to visit the sorcerer''s supreme since their powers can be achieved by almost everyone if they put in the work. I still wanted to get a good grip on this world before i venture out for something like this.

    Lost in thought, I soon found myself at home. Aunt May sat on the couch with her laptop, looking up as I walked in.

    "You only left an hour ago¡ªwhy are you back so soon? Is your fever back?"

    She started to rise, worry creasing her brow, but I quickly waved her off. "No, Aunt May. It''s just¡­ really sunny out, and I thought a shower might help. Plus, I need to catch up on studies if I''m going back to school tomorrow."If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    Half-risen, Aunt May sat back down, eyeing me skeptically. "Alright. Freshen up and get to it, but if your fever returns, you''re not going anywhere tomorrow."

    "Got it, Aunt May," I assured her with a small wave as I slipped into my room and shut the door.

    Inside, I noticed Peter''s bag resting beside the bed. A part of me itched to go through it, maybe gain some insight into Peter''s world and where he was. But I pushed the impulse aside and headed to the bathroom.

    Once there, I noticed the bathtub and filled it with warm water. After the chaos of the day, a few minutes of calm was exactly what I needed. I eased into the bath, letting the warmth melt some of my tension. I noticed a few droplets clinging to the tub''s edge, and an idea sparked. Raising my hand above the droplets, I concentrated, envisioning them rising with my movements.

    Nothing. They sat, undisturbed. That''s when it struck me¡ªthe peculiar sensation I''d felt earlier, in the ocean water, was missing. Even here, submerged to my neck, the feeling had vanished entirely.

    "Maybe it''s something I can recreate," I mused, closing my eyes and focusing on my palm. Almost immediately, I felt the strange prickling sensation return. Intrigued, I held onto it, fully immersed in the feeling, and opened my eyes.

    I could hardly believe what I saw: not only were the droplets on the edge of the tub hovering in mid-air, but a portion of the bathwater itself had lifted, suspended in hundreds of tiny, glittering spheres.

    "I did it!" I shouted in amazement, my voice reverberating off the tiles. Startled, I lost focus, and the droplets splashed back into the tub with an audible slap. I clamped a hand over my mouth, but it was too late.

    "JARED! WHAT ARE YOU SHOUTING ABOUT? I TOLD YOU KIDS TO KEEP IT DOWN WHILE GAMING!" Aunt May''s voice rang from outside my door.

    I cracked the door open just enough to call back, "Sorry, Aunt May, I just got a little too into it."

    There was a pause, then her footsteps receded down the hall. I let out a breath of relief.

    I glanced back at the tub, musing aloud, "I''ll need to practice in here over the next few days, or I''ll end up making a fool of myself out there."

    Turning, I caught my reflection in the mirror. Studying myself, I realized the truth: this body was softer, weaker. If I wanted any chance of survival, even with powers, I''d need to build strength and flexibility. In my previous life, I''d trained in hand-to-hand combat, even firearms. Here, though, it would take time and discipline to rebuild those skills.

    The rest of the day passed in a quiet mix of practice and planning. I tried manipulating water several times, growing better with each attempt, but the largest I could manage was the size of a baseball. Each time I tried going larger, the sphere would break apart, crashing to the floor. By the sixth attempt, I felt exhaustion creeping in. Apparently, I had limits, and pushing them would take time.

    Peter spent the day in his room, studying. Meanwhile, elsewhere in the city, unseen forces were stirring.

    3rd Person POV

    In a towering office somewhere across the city¡­

    The man sat in a spacious, minimalistic office, his chair facing the sprawling cityscape framed by floor-to-ceiling windows. He seemed indifferent to the view, his attention focused on a small stack of files on the desk in front of him, each bearing a name of note:

    Tony Stark

    Steve Rogers

    Dr. Bruce Banner

    He was reviewing the file on Banner when a knock interrupted him.

    "Come in," he said, setting the file aside, revealing an eyepatch over his left eye.

    A suited man stepped in, closing the door behind him.

    "Director Fury, we''ve detected an unusual energy," he announced.

    Fury''s eyes narrowed. "Phil, what kind of energy is worth bringing to me directly?"

    "According to our experts, it was similar to that of the tesarract but was very faint and vague. Usually I wouldn''t bother you with half baked information like this but this is the tesarract we are talking about so even the smallest news deserves your attention."

    Fury''s expression intensified. Phil Coulson was his most trusted agent; he knew when a situation warranted concern. The tesarract was something that SHIELD knew almost nothing about. Where did it come from, what does it do? Is it a good thing or a bad one? they had many questions for decades and they were all left unanswered. The energy that the tesarract releases is nowhere near any other energy that SHIELD had seen in many years so now just a whiff of it being sensed was a big deal.

    "Where did it originate?"

    "The brief nature of the energy made it difficult to trace precisely, but we pinpointed it to somewhere in Queens," Coulson replied, voice steady.

    **

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 Between Allies and Enemies

    Fury didn''t need to ask if Phil had already initiated the search for the energy''s source¡ªhe knew better than to waste time on unnecessary questions since Phil must have already sent someone to find out about it.

    " I thought the Tesseract was the only artifact we''d encounter. Something similar to it being on earth without the knowledge of SHIELD doesn''t sit right with me." Fury said, his tone a low growl. "If the council finds out about this, they''ll push even harder to transform the tesarract into a weapon."

    Phil nodded, understanding Fury''s concern. "A weapon powered by the Tesseract alone would already be dangerous enough, especially against opponents like the ones we''ve encountered." Phil was thinking of Thor, who had arrived the previous year. Fury understood well enough; if Thor had been an enemy, they would have had no way to counter him.

    Fury considered the implications, then looked back at Phil. "Keep this energy''s discovery quiet. The last thing I want is the council sticking their fingers into this."

    "Sir, that could be difficult. Even though the ones I have sent are people i trust, the council members have their own people in SHIELD who will eventually find out." Phil replied cautiously. "The council''s already on edge. They''re not exactly thrilled with the project you proposed last year."

    Fury''s jaw tightened, but his response was steady. "I trust the Avengers Initiative more than any weapon they dream of. A weapon is just a tool; it can be turned on us if we''re not careful. The Avengers, on the other hand, will have loyalty to the Earth¡ªnot the council''s agendas."

    Phil didn''t argue. He simply gave a respectful nod and left the room, sensing the weight of Fury''s words.

    Fury sat for a few more seconds, his gaze lingering on Steve Rogers'' file. Eventually, he picked it up, murmuring, "A team led by you may be our only hope, Cap."

    He opened a drawer in his desk, revealing a row of identical flip phones. Picking one up, he dialed a number. After a few rings, a voice answered on the other end.

    "Hello?" a familiar voice answered, calm and melodic.

    "Romanoff. Meet me at the park at three." Fury''s tone left no room for negotiation. He snapped the phone shut, breaking it in half, and tossed it into the waste bin beside his desk.

    Next Morning ¨C Parker Residence

    Jared''s POV

    The late-night practice had paid off. Right now, I could make basic shapes with water¡ªnothing too detailed or lasting more than a minute, but it was progress. This morning, though, I sat at the table, waiting for Aunt May to finish up breakfast.

    When I finally cracked open a textbook, I was relieved. While Peter was definitely the family''s top-tier nerd, it turned out I wasn''t too shabby in school myself¡ªabove average, at least.

    Aunt May turned from the kitchen counter, bringing two plates of scrambled eggs and toast to the table. She cast a glance toward Peter''s room and called, "What''s taking you so long, Peter?"

    Within seconds, Peter came out, looking bewildered. "Did I leave my school bag at home yesterday?"

    Aunt May raised an eyebrow. "Peter, how could anyone forget an entire bag?"

    I stifled a chuckle. "It''s in my room, Peter. You left it there last night."

    His face shifted as realization hit him, and he quickly dashed to my room.

    Twenty minutes later, Peter and I were in the car with Aunt May, who was dropping us off at school on her way to work. From what I''d pieced together, the insurance left by my parents was more than enough to cover us, but Aunt May hadn''t wanted to give up her career entirely. She worked at a marketing agency, usually from home, giving her flexibility to keep an eye on us.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    After a short drive, we arrived at Midtown Science High School. Aunt May looked back, an amused expression on her face. "Want me to walk you boys in? Maybe meet some of your teachers?"

    I opened the car door and stepped out before she could finish. Peter followed suit, both of us sparing ourselves from that embarrassment.

    "See you later, Aunt May," I called, closing the door. She smiled, waved, and drove off. Peter, however, seemed a little distant, lingering on the curb.

    "What''s up? You looked like you wanted to tell me something yesterday." I tried to catch his eye, raising an eyebrow.

    3rd Person POV

    Pulled from his thoughts, Peter looked at his older brother. "Oh, it''s nothing. I was just thinking about, um¡­ schoolwork."

    Jared narrowed his eyes, his tone shifting to something unusually serious. "Walk with me, Peter," he said, striding toward the school entrance.

    Peter had never seen his brother be this serious before, and he followed quietly. As they walked, Jared glanced over at him. "There are only two reasons I can think of for that look. Either you''re dealing with a bully or¡­ there''s a girl you like and can''t talk to her. So, which is it?"

    Peter''s eyes widened, and he quickly looked away. For a few seconds, he was speechless. The brother he''d thought was aloof seemed to read him perfectly.

    After a deep breath, Peter answered. "Both actually. There''s a new girl in class, Liz Allan. I''d like to talk to her, but I don''t know how¡ªespecially with Flash getting in my face every time." He grimaced at the thought of his loud-mouthed classmate.

    Jared''s face eased slightly. "So, Flash is bothering you?". A bully like Flash was something Peter would overcome on his own so Jared had no reason to worry about it.

    Peter shook his head. "Not exactly. He''s just¡­ irritating. We take digs at each other all the time, so it''s not really bullying. But¡­ Professor Morris is another story. He''s had it out for me since the start of the semester. The last paper I turned in, he gave me a C. And when I asked him why, he said it was because of dad. He told me that our father ruined his life, and he''d make sure he ruined ours too."

    ''Professor Morris?'' Jared thought, his mind racing. ''What does this guy have against our father? I don''t remember any professor like that.''

    He kept his tone even. "I don''t have any classes with Professor Morris. But listen, ignore him for now. If he pulls the same stunt on your final grade, we''ll report him to the principal or talk to the school counselor. He''s not worth your stress."

    Peter nodded, some relief in his expression. Jared continued, "As for Liz, you need to stand out. Do something that''ll set you apart¡ªas long as it doesn''t get you suspended."

    Peter chuckled a little, grateful for the advice as heading off to class with a more relaxed step.

    Jared watched his brother walk away, an amused smile on his face. ''In my old life, it was all about being the best and playing hard to get. Guess Peter will have to start small,'' he mused.

    Meanwhile, elsewhere in the city¡­

    In a high-rise office overlooking New York, Fury sat at his desk, flipping through a dossier on Steve Rogers. The sight of Cap''s file reminded him of why he believed in the Avengers Initiative, and why he had chosen to trust them over any weapon the council could fund.

    The door to the office creaked open, and Phil Coulson entered, carrying a new report.

    "We''re narrowing down the source of that energy, but there''s one problem," Coulson said, his tone measured.

    Fury didn''t look up. "Let me guess¡ªthe council''s already sniffing around?"

    Phil''s silence was answer enough.

    Fury put the file down, sighing. "If they knew, they''d push even harder for weaponization. I''d rather have someone on my team who''ll stand for something. Get me Romanoff''s full report by this afternoon. And Phil¡­" Fury''s voice softened slightly. "Make sure she''s aware of any leads from the council''s side." Fury didn''t want an important asset like Romanoff to be compromised because the council is too ambitious.

    With a nod, Phil turned to leave. Fury watched him go, then cast another glance at Steve Rogers'' file. He didn''t need soldiers blindly following orders¡ªhe needed allies who could think for themselves and for others.

    As he closed the file, Fury murmured to himself, "If I''m right about you, Cap, you''ll be the one leading them. Let''s hope they''re as ready for this as I am."

    Back at Midtown Science High School, Peter sat at his desk, finally feeling like he''d found a small place of support. Jared''s unexpected understanding had lifted some of his anxiety, even if he still had a long way to go.

    The day passed uneventfully for the most part. But behind the scenes, across New York City, agents, council members, and those very few Fury trusted were working. Each was playing their part, unaware of just how intertwined their lives would become in the days ahead.

    ______________________________________________

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 Back to Familiar Faces

    As I stared at Peter, who was walking toward his classroom, I tried to remember which class was mine. But the very next second, my problem was solved by someone yelling my name from behind.

    "JAREDDDD!"

    I turned and saw an African-American teen, about my age, walking toward me, waving enthusiastically. From his build, I could immediately tell he was a basketball player. He was taller than me, wearing a sleeveless school jersey with "Midtown" and the number 23 printed on it. For a second, I thought he was Ryan, but as he came closer, he tossed me a basketball, which I instinctively caught.

    "Yo, where''s Ryan at?" he asked, grinning as he adjusted his jersey.

    I shrugged. "No idea¡­ I''ll try calling him." Pulling out my phone, I scrolled through my recent calls, searching for Ryan''s number. But before I could dial, the guy raised his hand, nodding toward the road. "No need to call. There he is¡ªthe whole family rolling in as usual," he said with a laugh.

    Looking up, I saw a van pull up in front of the school entrance. The door slid open, and two kids¡ªa boy and a girl¡ªjumped out, giggling as they ran toward the building. From the front seats, a man and a woman leaned out, calling after them.

    "Stop saying that word! Or you''ll both be grounded!" the woman shouted, but the kids paid no mind and disappeared into the school.

    The last to step out was a teenager my age, with brown hair and a skateboard in hand, wearing an olive-green t-shirt and light-blue jeans. It all clicked into place: his name was Ryan, and memories of hanging out with him surfaced.

    "Hey, Jared, Derek¡ªit''s good to see you two," called out the man, who seemed to be Ryan''s dad. The woman, Mrs. Smith, waved at me from the passenger seat.

    "Jared! Don''t forget it''s the twins'' birthday party tonight. May''s helping me with the cake and will send you the list of ingredients. Make sure you pick everything up before you get home, okay?" Mrs. Smith smiled, her voice carrying a mix of excitement and strictness.

    Before I could respond, she shifted her attention to Derek. "And you, young man¡ªdon''t even think about bringing that basketball into my house this year. I don''t need my decorations getting ruined again."

    Derek chuckled nervously. "You got it, Mrs. Smith. I''d rather avoid cleaning up like last year."

    Her husband, Mr. Smith, looked over with a smirk. "Honey, why don''t we handle the groceries on the way home?"

    She shot him a look. "The last time you tried to shop, you brought back everything except what we needed. Jared and the kids will manage it. Just make sure you''re home on time."

    Mr. Smith laughed, glancing at his watch. "I''ll do my best, but, you know, crime doesn''t care about birthday parties."

    "Mom, Dad, if you''re done embarrassing me, can I go now?" Ryan asked, nudging his skateboard behind his back.

    "Look how sleepy he is. That''s why I keep telling him to cut down on those late-night video games," Mrs. Smith said, sighing as Ryan yawned.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    With a last wave, Mr. Smith pulled the van away, leaving the three of us standing there. Derek looked over at Ryan with an eyebrow raised. "Didn''t you say you''d go to bed early last night?"

    Ryan rubbed his eyes, chuckling. "Didn''t touch a game. I was working on that project report we have due tomorrow. And knowing you guys, I''m guessing neither of you remembers."

    Derek''s eyes widened. "The report! Damn¡­ how did I forget?" He turned to me, looking a bit panicked.

    I held up my hands. "Don''t look at me. I''m as clueless as you are."

    Ryan rolled his eyes, grinning. "You two have been forgetting assignments since kindergarten, and it looks like some things never change. Luckily, Maya sent me everything I needed, so I could make a presentation and report."

    The reminder struck a chord, and I remembered hearing about this "Maya" before. "Oh, yeah? And she didn''t mention anything to me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

    "She''s not happy with you, dude," Ryan said, smirking. "You''re on thin ice with her."

    "Let''s hit the basketball court," Derek suggested, shifting the conversation. "Practice time, anyway. You guys don''t have a class for the first two hours, so come along."

    I glanced at Ryan. "Got anything else on the agenda?"

    "Nothing pressing. Plus, the cheerleading team''s practicing there today, and it''d be criminal to miss it," Ryan replied, suddenly wide awake and grinning.

    Derek laughed, tossing the ball back to me. "Best part about basketball practice¡ªsenior girls dancing and cheering us on."

    I couldn''t help but laugh as I threw the ball back. ''Some things really are the same no matter where you go,'' I thought, suppressing a smile at the idea of seeing the cheerleaders.

    We headed toward the locker rooms to drop off our bags and grab books for later. The halls were buzzing with kids heading to their classes.

    After another few minutes, we made it to the gym. I was surprised at how big it was, with bleachers on either side like an actual NBA court. It seemed like basketball was taken pretty seriously here, more so than football or lacrosse.

    "DEREK WILLIAM JONES!" boomed a voice from across the court. A tall, muscular man in a blue polo and track pants, with a whistle around his neck, stormed toward us. "How do you manage to leave the house before me, yet still be late?"

    Derek paled, mumbling, "Oh, boy." Then, more loudly, he said, "Uh, I ran into these guys, Dad¡ªI mean, Coach. We had to discuss our project."

    Coach Jones didn''t look convinced, crossing his arms as he glared at us. "Right. And what''s this project on?"

    Derek froze, shooting us a desperate look. His dad turned his glare on me, raising an eyebrow, and I realized there was no getting around it. "It''s, uh¡­ still in the research phase," I said, shrugging, trying not to laugh.

    Coach rolled his eyes. "Classic. If it weren''t for Maya and Ryan, you''d both flunk out." Then he blew his whistle. "Get on the court, Derek. And remember¡ªyour grades better look as good as your free throws."

    With an exaggerated sigh, Derek jogged over to join the other players, while Ryan and I headed to the bleachers. From there, we had a perfect view of the cheerleaders gathering on the sidelines.

    Ryan nudged me, grinning as he whispered, "Now this is worth getting to school early for."

    I couldn''t help but chuckle as I watched the cheerleaders warming up. But my attention was soon pulled back to Derek''s dad, who was already running his players through drills, his booming voice filling the gym. There was no doubt that Coach Jones took his job seriously¡ªand expected the same from Derek.

    ''So this is life in high school,'' I thought, glancing around at my friends and teammates, each one with their quirks and their lives that fit together like pieces in a puzzle. And then there was Maya, this girl I''d heard so much about but had yet to meet. If she was anything like her reputation, she''d be an interesting addition to my day.

    And for the first time since arriving, I felt a sense of normalcy, a feeling that maybe this new life wouldn''t be as strange or disconnected as I''d initially thought.

    **

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 Rivals and Redheads

    After Coach William finished reprimanding Derek and me, he assigned Derek some extra warmups while Ryan and I moved to the stands. There were only a few people around since it was just a practice day, but the front row was packed with cheerleaders in red and white uniforms, adding a burst of color and energy to the gym. Now I fully understood why Derek and Ryan were so eager to be here; these girls were certainly a sight to behold.

    As we climbed up to the third row to sit down, a few of the cheerleaders spotted us, and I caught some of them giggling. I felt a bit embarrassed after the scolding in front of everyone, but Ryan shamelessly waved at the girls. My eyes settled on a blonde cheerleader¡ªa senior, by the looks of her¡ªwho caught my attention immediately. Unlike the others who giggled, she gave me a gentle smile, and before I knew it, I was smiling back, as if on autopilot. I guess Jared had a bit of a crush on this one, and his body had held onto that feeling. Before I could react further, I focused on settling into my seat and pushing away the involuntary reaction.

    "So, Jared, have you given it any thought?" Ryan asked, breaking into my thoughts.

    "Thought about what?" I replied, turning to him. But before he could respond, a commotion broke out on the court.

    "It''s a foul!" Derek and his teammates shouted as one of their players crouched down, clutching his eye.

    *Phwwwwht!*

    Coach blew his whistle, stopping the game. A tall, athletic blonde named Lucas strode forward, addressing Coach William with an air of innocence. "Coach, I was just trying to block him¡ªmy finger barely grazed his eye. Calling it a foul is blowing things out of proportion."

    Derek''s team, however, didn''t seem convinced. "It was intentional. Lucas always pulls these cheap moves when he''s outmatched," one muttered, while others chimed in agreement.

    Lucas took two swift steps forward, his expression turning hostile as he squared off against Derek. But before either could make a move, Coach William stepped between them like a barrier, his imposing figure quelling any thought of escalation. "Someone get him to the infirmary," Coach ordered, motioning to the injured player. Then, glaring at Lucas, he added, "You''d better hope this was accidental, or you''ll be explaining it to the principal."

    Lucas glanced nervously at the injured player, who, fortunately, was beginning to see clearly again. Sighing in relief, Lucas backed off and returned to his side of the court, looking a little less sure of himself.

    Just as I was processing the tension on the court, I felt a heavy thud against the side of my head. "Ow!" I turned to find myself staring into the furious eyes of a red-haired girl.

    "Maya! What was that for?" I demanded, holding onto her backpack, which had smacked me in the head.

    "I was hoping you''d be too sick to show up at school today, Jared. That would''ve been perfect karma," she snapped, her glare unwavering.

    "Come on, Maya, ease up a bit," Ryan interjected, trying to play peacemaker.

    Maya huffed, settling in beside me. "Why''d you go to the beach yesterday?" she demanded, still fuming.

    I tried to play it cool. "I felt fine, and I needed some fresh air. You''re overreacting."The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    "Overreacting?" Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Jared, you had a fever so high, we thought you''d end up in the hospital! Me, Derek, and Ryan had to change the sheets every twenty minutes because you were soaked in sweat. And with Aunt May and Peter gone, we thought we''d have to drag you to the ER. After putting us through that, you''re saying I''m overreacting?"

    I didn''t realize Jared had been in such bad shape before I ended up in his body. "I''m really sorry, Maya. I didn''t want you to worry, but I just needed to get out and clear my head," I said, managing an apologetic smile. Somehow, that innocent look was enough to defuse her anger¡ªif only slightly.

    "Fine. Just stay hydrated," she sighed, handing me a water bottle with a half-hearted glare.

    We settled into watching the practice, though I soon noticed the blonde cheerleader occasionally glancing back at me. Each time, my gaze drifted toward her until I felt Maya''s piercing stare from the side.

    The cheerleaders started rehearsing a few routines, and soon enough, both Ryan and I got distracted. Some of the basketball players even threw quick glances at the girls, clearly just as captivated by the performance.

    "Are you two planning to spend the entire practice gawking?" Maya asked, pulling out a thick book from her bag and flipping it open.

    Ryan smirked. "A few of them come by the skate park where I shoot my videos. It''s only right to appreciate their skills."

    Sensing that Maya''s patience was wearing thin, I decided to change the subject quickly. "Maya, I wanted to ask you something. You''re close with most of the teachers here, right?"

    She nodded, narrowing her eyes. "Why? What did you do this time?"

    "Nothing! I wanted to ask about someone who''s been giving my little brother, Peter, a hard time."

    "Peter? He''s one of the best-behaved kids in school. What''s going on?"

    "Professor Morris. He seemed to have a personal vendetta, like my dad wronged him or something," I explained, shaking my head.

    Maya''s expression softened. "I''ll ask around about him, but honestly, I''m surprised."

    "Surprised about what?"

    "This is the first time I''ve seen you show any real concern for Peter. It''s about time you acted like an older brother," she said, her face breaking into a smile.

    Apparently, Jared hadn''t been the most attentive sibling before. I turned my gaze back to the cheerleaders, and this time, the blonde girl waved at me. Without thinking, I waved back, grinning. Ryan nudged me with his elbow and whispered, "Dude, that''s Lucia Rossi¡ªLucas''s twin sister. Derek''s biggest rival. You''re playing with fire, man. Nothing good comes from getting involved with the Rossi twins."

    Things began to make sense. The resemblance was undeniable, and now I understood the connection. Even so, I couldn''t shake my interest in her.

    After hanging around for a while, we all decided it was time to head to class. Thankfully, Maya, Ryan, and Derek were all in the same class, so I didn''t have to scramble to remember my schedule. Classes were the usual bore, and on our way to the next period, I noticed an empty classroom with a TV at the front. "What''s that room for?" I asked Ryan.

    "Oh, that''s detention. They play tapes of Captain America to make us ''responsible citizens.'' As if anyone really believes he exists," Ryan shrugged, clearly unimpressed.

    Captain America, still frozen somewhere, had become a near-mythical figure. As I considered whether it was worth cutting short his icy retirement, someone bumped into me while I was lost in thought.

    "Sorry," a soft but confident voice said.

    I turned to find a girl looking up at me apologetically. Her voice was gentle, yet it carried a confidence that drew my attention. Something about her seemed familiar, butbut before I could even turn and look at her, Ryan started tugging at my arm, pulling me along to class.

    "It''s alright," I said as I walked away.

    As I was walking away, I couldn''t help but keep thinking about everything¡ªthe tension between Derek and Lucas, the sudden protective streak I felt toward Peter, and of course, the blonde cheerleader, Lucia. Each encounter added another layer to this new life, and while some parts were still foreign to me, other moments felt startlingly natural. If I was going to keep up this act as Jared, I''d have to navigate not just the day-to-day challenges of school but also the complex web of relationships and rivalries he''d built.

    **

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 Unfolding Encounters

    Jared''s POV

    After leaving Liz and Ned behind, I headed down the hall with my friends, thinking nothing of it until Ryan nudged me and murmured, "I don''t usually pay attention to juniors, but this one¡­ she''s different."

    His comment pulled me from my thoughts. I hadn''t even paid attention to who she was, and though I didn''t recognize her face, something about her voice did sound vaguely familiar. Ryan, though, had somehow managed to glance back and get a good look at her. I shook my head at his antics, more amused than anything.

    "You know what, Ryan? Maybe you should give it a shot," I said, giving him an encouraging thumbs-up.

    Ryan smirked, the challenge lighting up his eyes. "Yeah, but I don''t know a thing about her¡­ Think a friend could help me out here?"

    Before Ryan could finish, Maya rolled her eyes and jumped in. "She was wearing the Junior Decathlon captain''s jacket, which means her name''s on the notice board. That''s all the intel you''re getting from me," she said firmly, folding her arms.

    Ryan sighed dramatically. "Come on, Maya. Tell me something I wouldn''t already know. The notice board''s boring intel."

    After a few seconds of Ryan''s pleading, Maya gave in and said, "Fine. Her name is Liz Allan. She''s in Peter''s class."

    Ryan immediately turned to me, eyes wide with an exaggerated look of hope. I didn''t know what to say. Peter already had a major crush on Liz, and though part of me wanted to tell Ryan to back off for my little brother''s sake, a different part of me was curious about her. Knowing more about Liz''s father¡ªthe future Vulture¡ªcould be useful. However, I figured since her father hadn''t yet become a villain, it would be premature to start prying too deeply.

    I shrugged. "I didn''t get a good look at her, but if it was Liz Allan, then maybe hold your horses."

    "What? Why? You just told me I should go for it," Ryan replied, looking disappointed. But before I could answer, Maya interrupted, stopping a girl who was walking past us in the corridor.

    "Hey, where are you headed? Don''t we have class in 3-C?" she asked, glancing at her watch as if confirming the time.

    The girl shook her head, looking relieved. "Nope. Ms. Ainsley is out today, so we''re dismissed early." Her announcement was like music to everyone''s ears.

    Derek''s eyes lit up, and he immediately pumped his fist. "Yes! We''re free for the rest of the day. Let''s go somewhere!" Ryan quickly nodded in agreement, already glancing around, probably thinking of all the places they could go.

    But Maya cut off their excitement in one fell swoop. "We''re not going anywhere fun. Everyone finish any last-minute stuff while I grab my assignment from the teacher''s lounge. Then we''re going to Target to buy stuff for the birthday party. And if we forget anything, we''ll all have to answer to Ryan''s mom." The mention of Ryan''s mom instantly put a damper on Derek''s spirits. He sighed in resignation, hugging his basketball close.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    "Fine¡­ I''ll go change and put my ball in the locker," he muttered, defeated.

    Ryan turned to me. "Then we''ll wait by the parking lot and take the bus to Target from there, right?"

    Everyone went their separate ways to wrap up last-minute errands. Not wanting to risk the wrath of Ryan''s mom either, I agreed to wait with him. Soon, we were both standing by the school parking lot. I leaned against a tree, watching as Ryan skated around in circles, perfecting a few tricks on his skateboard with surprising skill.

    We were so engrossed in his moves that neither of us noticed a man briskly walking down the sidewalk until he was practically on top of Ryan. It wasn''t until Ryan looked up that he saw the man striding straight at him and quickly veered his skateboard to the side to avoid a collision. The man, lost in his own thoughts and muttering under his breath, stopped abruptly and shot Ryan a withering glare.

    "Watch where you''re going, kid! This isn''t a place to mess around with a skateboard," he snapped, his voice sharp and impatient.

    Ryan, unfazed, shot back, "Why are you blaming me when you''re the one who''s daydreaming?" He wasn''t the type to back down from a confrontation, and it showed.

    The man''s face turned red with irritation at being called "old." He took a step forward, raising his hand as if he might take a swing. But before he could, I reached out and grabbed his arm, holding him back. He turned to me with eyes flashing in anger. "Who do you think you are?"

    Normally, I''d have responded more forcefully, but Jared wouldn''t throw a punch in broad daylight, especially in front of his friends. As I was deciding what to do, a voice called out from behind us, cutting through the tension.

    "Back off the kid, or you''ll be the one in trouble."

    I turned and saw a man stepping out of a nearby car. It was none other than Ryan''s dad, Detective Reynolds.

    "Dad?" Ryan said, his voice surprised but relieved as he retrieved his skateboard from the ground. Detective Reynolds calmly flashed his badge at the man, causing him to mutter something under his breath before stalking off, visibly humiliated.

    "You boys all right?" Ryan''s dad asked, his eyes moving between us as he made sure we were unharmed. Just then, a woman stepped out from the driver''s side of the car, and Ryan''s expression immediately brightened.

    "Hey, Miss Elise!" he called out, giving her a wave.

    "Good to see you, Ryan," she said warmly, returning his wave. Ryan turned to me and introduced her as if I hadn''t already guessed. "That''s Miss Elise, Dad''s partner. She''s a detective too."

    I greeted her politely, a little surprised. Seeing a female detective was a rare sight, and her warm yet composed demeanor immediately set her apart.

    "Mom called us to say you''d be heading to Target," his dad explained. "Since we only had paperwork left to wrap up, we figured we''d come along and give you a lift."

    As we were talking, Maya and Derek arrived, and within minutes, we all piled into the car for the short ride to Target.

    While we were driving, a headline from a newspaper lying on the backseat caught my attention. I leaned forward, squinting to get a closer look, and Detective Reynolds noticed my interest. He picked up the paper and held it up so I could read it properly. The headline read, "Indian Billionaire Jakuna Singh to Visit Queens, New York for His Mall Project." Accompanying the headline was a photograph of a man who looked familiar, though I couldn''t immediately place him.

    Ryan''s dad noticed my slight frown as I studied the article. "Big news around here. They say his project could create thousands of jobs. Good publicity for the city, if nothing else."

    I nodded, trying to place where I''d seen the man''s face before. He was one of the council members of SHIELD. Infact he was one of the good ones who wasn''t a part of Hydra.

    ''Maybe he can be useful to me if given the right motivations.''

    **

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 A Call to the Precinct

    "So, is the list ready?" Derek asked, glancing at Maya and Ryan. Both nodded, and Maya added, "Yes¡­ plus, we got an extra list for Aunt May''s recipes."

    The chatter between them was light, but Ryan''s gaze drifted to his father''s car, which had come to an abrupt halt in the middle of the parking lot, tires still. He frowned, confusion clouding his face. "Why''d they stop there? Weren''t they going to park?"

    He started to walk over when Elise rolled down her window and called out, her voice echoing across the lot, "Ryan, Jared¡­ could you both come here for a moment?"

    Ryan shot me a puzzled look. I shrugged, sharing his bewilderment, and we headed over together. The air around the car felt oddly still, like the calm before a storm, and Ryan''s father stepped out, waving us over in a gesture that brooked no argument. "Maya, Derek¡ªyou two go ahead and start the shopping. The four of us need to take care of something. We''ll be back in an hour or two."

    Maya and Derek exchanged a concerned look, sensing the tension. Maya couldn''t recall anything urgent that required their attention, but the serious expressions on Elise and Ryan''s father suggested this was no small errand.

    With a mix of worry and curiosity, Maya and Derek nodded and made their way into the store, leaving us alone with Ryan''s parents.

    When we reached the car, I looked at Elise, trying to read the anxious lines on her face. "Is something wrong, Miss Elise?"

    Elise nodded, her voice low but urgent. "I''ll explain on the way¡­ but just get in for now. We''re heading to the precinct."

    "The precinct?" Ryan echoed, his face a mixture of shock and worry. His father leaned forward, his tone firm yet gentle. "There''s nothing for you to worry about, Ryan. You and Jared haven''t done anything wrong. Just get in; I''ll explain everything on the way."

    We climbed into the car without further hesitation, the atmosphere thick with unspoken tension. A few minutes into the drive, Ryan''s father looked over at us, his eyes intense. "Do you remember the man you and Jared nearly got into a scuffle with outside your school?"

    Ryan nodded slowly, his expression clouded with a mix of unease and curiosity. "Don''t tell me he filed a police report because I was on a motorcycle," he muttered, attempting a lighthearted tone that fell flat. But Ryan''s father''s face remained unyielding, his jaw set. "No, Ryan¡­ the man was found murdered just a short while ago, near a construction site. I''m heading to the crime scene, but you two need to go to the precinct to give a statement. Just tell them exactly what happened. It''s routine since you two were likely the last to see him alive."

    Ryan and I exchanged stunned looks, a chill sweeping over me. My mind raced, struggling to process the bizarre twist the day had taken.

    "How¡­ how did he die?" I asked, barely above a whisper, almost afraid of the answer.

    Ryan''s father shook his head, his expression unreadable, as though even he was still grappling with the news. "I don''t have all the details yet. I''ll know more once I''m at the scene." He turned to Elise and added, "Drop me at the intersection. I''ll head to the scene on foot. Take the boys to the precinct."

    Elise gave a resolute nod, her gaze fixed on the road. "I''ll make sure they''re looked after. Since this case involves our family, another detective will likely take over due to conflict of interest. I''ll get their statements and then bring them home. Call if you need backup or updates."

    The drive to the precinct felt longer than it was, a heavy silence filling the car. Outside, the streets blurred by, but inside, it felt like time had slowed, each minute pressing down on us.

    When we arrived, Elise spoke briefly with an officer outside, who guided us up to the third floor. As we waited in the elevator, I nudged Ryan. "You okay?" I asked, noticing the tension in his shoulders.

    Ryan took a deep breath, his eyes distant. "Yeah¡­ it''s just unsettling. We were arguing with that guy not half an hour ago, and now he''s dead? And murdered? I can''t help wondering who did it."

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.Sensing his unease, I placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Don''t worry. Your dad and Miss Elise will figure it out." My words seemed to comfort him, and he managed a faint smile. The officer guiding us looked back and added, "Your friend''s right. Detective Mathew is one of the best in the city."

    On the third floor, we were led to a small break room with the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air. It had a sink, a fridge, and an espresso machine in the corner, along with a few vending machines humming quietly. The officer handed us each a can of soda and took a seat across the table.

    "Since you''re both minors," he began, his voice calm but formal, "you have the right to give your statement with a guardian or an attorney present. If either of you would like that, just let us know. We''ve informed your families."

    Ryan and I exchanged a quick glance before shaking our heads. "We''re fine to give our statements now," we replied in unison.

    Moments later, Elise entered the cafeteria with two detectives, their badges gleaming under the fluorescent lights. One of them smiled at Ryan. "You must be Mathew''s son¡ªhe talks about you a lot."

    "Yes, sir," Ryan replied, finding his voice again.

    The other detective nodded, turning to both of us. "Ryan and Jared, right? We''d like to know everything you remember about your encounter with this man outside your school. Even small details could be helpful, so take your time."

    Their warm, professional demeanor helped ease some of the tension. We began recounting the incident, trying to include every detail we could recall. Just as we finished, the officer who had brought us in stepped back into the room. "Detectives, Special Agent Sophia Thomas from the FBI is here regarding this case."

    The detectives exchanged a surprised look. "Alright, bring her in."

    The officer returned with Agent Thomas. She introduced herself, her gaze both sharp and calm, as though dissecting us with a single glance. My heart skipped a beat; her presence was oddly unnerving, carrying a weight that was hard to ignore.

    Agent Thomas greeted the detectives with a quick nod, then turned to us. "Would you mind repeating your account one more time?" she asked, her tone gentle but commanding.

    Ryan took the lead, recounting the story with such focus and intensity that it felt as though he were speaking to a trusted confidant rather than a federal agent.

    Once he finished, Elise couldn''t resist asking, "Agent Thomas, if I may¡ªwhy is the FBI involved?"

    Agent Thomas gave a measured smile. "The victim was associated with a group under federal investigation for potential terrorist activities. Due to the sensitivity of the case, certain details aren''t accessible through local databases."

    The detectives shared a knowing glance and nodded in understanding. Elise, though still slightly skeptical, chose not to press further.

    After we''d provided our statements, Agent Thomas handed us her card, her gaze lingering as she added, "If either of you recalls anything else, don''t hesitate to reach out."

    Elise soon led us out of the precinct and back into the crisp evening air. "I''ll drop you two at Mathew''s house. He''ll be there soon¡ªit''s the twins'' birthday, after all." We gave Agent Thomas a quick wave goodbye as she walked toward her car, watching her as though some part of the mystery lingered with her.

    Third-Person POV

    As Elise drove off with Jared and Ryan, Agent Thomas settled into her car, pulling out her phone with a practiced motion.

    "Hello¡­ it''s me."

    [What have you got for me, Agent Romanoff?]

    **

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 A Deadly Experiment

    "The scientist who tried to recreate the serum has been killed."

    [Do we have the serum he created, or do we know who did it?]

    "The only thing we know for sure is that the serum wasn''t successful... the man aged more than ten years in just one day. I think he injected it into himself, and something went horribly wrong. He also seemed to be psychologically unstable, according to the kids."

    [Kids?]

    "Yes, Agent Coulson. He had a verbal spat with two kids near their school. It was caught on CCTV, so I came to the precinct to interview them. One of the kids is a detective''s son, so I couldn''t ask much in detail. However, based on their statement, I could determine that he looked older than his biological age and was behaving erratically."

    [Alright¡­ focus on finding who killed him and who hired him to create the serum in the first place. I''ve already sent a team to locate the lab he might''ve been working from. I''ll brief Director Fury on the findings.]

    "Got it, Phil," Sophia¡ªthough it would be more fitting to say Shield agent Natasha Romanoff¡ªresponded, cutting the call.

    On the other side, as Phil pocketed his phone, he turned around to find Director Nick Fury and another woman standing just behind him. He motioned for them to enter.

    "Director Fury, Vice Director Maria Hill," he greeted. "I was just about to brief you."

    Maria Hill was Director Fury''s right hand. Though her official title was Vice Director, she often acted as Fury''s closest advisor and secretary. She was the one Fury trusted implicitly, the keeper of many of Shield''s secrets.

    "What''s going on, Phil? You heading out?" Director Fury asked, his brow furrowing as he sized up Phil''s demeanor.

    Phil nodded, his expression serious. "Yes, Director. I just got a report from Agent Romanoff. It seems someone tried to replicate the serum that was given to Captain America. So far, the scientist''s dead, and local authorities are investigating."

    "That serum?" Maria''s voice held concern. "Did the culprit manage to replicate it?"

    "Not according to the latest report. But until the detective officially writes up his findings, we can''t say for sure."

    "We handle threats like this every day, Phil. Why does this one concern you so much?" Fury asked, his voice rough but tinged with curiosity.

    Phil sighed, shaking his head. "Ever since Tony Stark found out it was us who sent Romanoff to him, he''s been keeping an eye on her. We expected it¡ªStark doesn''t want to share his Iron Man technology with anyone. But being put on his watchlist spooks Romanoff a bit. I think I should pay him a visit."

    "Tony Stark is a problem, but Howard Stark is someone the entire Shield respects. He''s one of the three founders. Tell Romanoff not to worry about Tony''s surveillance. We need to gain his trust, and the only way to do that is with a bit of transparency," Fury advised.

    Phil nodded in agreement, though a part of him still doubted Stark''s full cooperation.

    "I''ll handle it, sir. Is there anything else?" Phil asked, his gaze steady.

    "There''s the energy signature we picked up from New York City a few days ago. I haven''t received any updates on that," Fury replied, his expression turning thoughtful.

    Phil hesitated, then spoke with more caution. "We found no definitive traces to back up the claim. The equipment is still being tested, though many believe it could have been a glitch. Both teams we sent out to investigate returned empty-handed. The location couldn''t be pinpointed, and the neighborhood was residential. Even the police reports didn''t show any unusual activity during that time frame."Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Fury gave a heavy sigh. "Hmm... I''ve got something else for you, but I see you''ve got your hands full."

    Phil paused, sensing something more pressing. "What happened?"

    Fury turned back to face him. "We''ve received a special request from the military. They want us to find a man named Bruce Banner. Higher-ups are pushing hard to locate him. I need to know why, and if we should even get involved."

    Maria, who had been silently observing, slid a tablet toward Fury, her fingers working quickly on the screen. She glanced up at Phil. "He''s one of our top Strike team agents. Recruited personally by Alexander Pierce. Should I send him on this mission? You can join him after you meet with Stark."

    As Fury took the tablet, Phil gave Maria a subtle nod, silently thanking her for the quick suggestion.

    "Agent Brock Rumlow," Fury muttered, reading through the file. "His profile is impressive. The Strike team has been a remarkable initiative. Brief him on the mission, and Phil, I expect you back by tomorrow."

    "Got it, Boss," Phil affirmed with a nod, and Fury turned to leave.

    Smith Residence. (10 minutes later)

    "I think they''re back," Maya said, peering through the window as Elise''s car rolled up the driveway. She was busy putting up decorations for the kids'' birthday. As soon as her voice reached the others, Derek¡ªwho had been inflating balloons¡ªMrs. Smith, and Jared''s Aunt May hurried to the window. When they saw Jared and Ryan step out of the car, they rushed toward the door.

    "Stay inside, both of you," Mrs. Smith called over her shoulder, glancing back at Maya and Derek. Derek, who had already started heading toward the door, was stopped by Maya.

    "It looks pretty serious," Maya said. "Let''s stay out of it for now. We can squeeze the details out of Ryan later."

    Understanding that something important was going on, Derek nodded and returned to his task of inflating balloons.

    Outside, as the two women opened the door, they enveloped the boys in tight hugs. Jared was momentarily caught off guard, but he didn''t push Aunt May away.

    Mrs. Smith looked at Ryan and said, "Your father called. He told me you got into it with a man who ended up getting murdered."

    "Are you two hurt?" Aunt May asked, her voice laced with concern as she checked Jared.

    "No, Aunt May¡­ when we encountered him, he was alive," Jared reassured her. "Ryan''s father showed up right after, and the man went his way."

    Both women sighed with relief.

    Detective Elise stepped out of the car just then. "The kids are right," she said, her voice firm. "We only brought them in for questioning because they were the last to see the man alive. It''s a procedural formality, and they gave clear statements to both the detectives and the FBI."

    "The FBI is involved in this?" Aunt May asked, her voice sharp with shock as she pulled Jared closer again.

    "Yes," Elise nodded, her expression stoic. "We don''t know much yet. Mathew''s at the crime scene. He said he''d come here as soon as he can."

    "That''s a relief," Mrs. Smith murmured. "I didn''t know what to do when I found out the kids were already at the precinct."

    Elise nodded. "No need to worry. I''ll take my leave now."

    "Come on," Mrs. Smith insisted with a warm smile. "You''re already here. Might as well stay and celebrate with the kids."

    Elise hesitated briefly before accepting, stepping inside.

    Jared''s POV

    As I entered the house, I saw the twins chasing each other around, toys in hand. Derek was surrounded by colorful balloons, and Maya was busy sticking letters spelling out "Happy Birthday" on the wall.

    "You guys seem to be having fun," I joked, my voice light despite the weight of everything that had happened.

    Maya walked toward me, handing me the tape and scissors. "I''ve got other things to do," she said, "but I''m heading home to change. By the time I come back, I expect this place to look like a party."

    Ryan, sensing an opening, was handed a pack of deflated balloons by Derek. "I need to shower," Derek said with a grin. "I''ll be back in an hour. Promise."

    "So who''s gonna spill what happened?" Maya asked, her eyes fixed on Ryan and me.

    "It''s not as serious as they''re making it seem, I''ll tell you guys later." Ryan answered quietly.

    "We''ll talk about it tonight," I added, feeling the weight of the day settling over me.

    Derek, clearly impatient, was about to press further when the sharp sound of metal clanging against metal echoed through the house, followed by the shrill screams of the kids.

    Instantly, everyone sprang into action, including Elise whose hand instinctively landed on the gun holstered on her waist, who had been talking to Mrs. Smith and Aunt May in the kitchen. Everyone rushed toward the bathroom, fear evident in their faces as they tried to figure out what had happened.

    **

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