Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The lights of the teleportation circle dim, and he slowly opens his eyes.

He looked around.

They had just returned from an "adventure," a short trip through the mountains in search of entertainment.

At least, that was what the children had called it.

He had wanted to send Choi Han or Lock instead, but they insisted that he come along.

The redhead knew there was no winning against children when they got stubborn. They were persistent.

After collecting countless rocks and watching poisonous plants get eaten, they were finally heading back for lunch.

The redhead let out a sigh, tired and relieved. He was taking the rest of the day off.

He lightly tapped his foot against the ground to shake the dirt off the sole of his shoe.

They teleported into Eruhaben’s laboratory, since the elder had wanted to show them his project involving electricity and magic.

The ancient dragon had been working on the project with Muller, Rosalyn, and a new member named Vincent. A dragon, a mage, a builder, and an electrical engineering technician. Great team.

Eruhaben was currently nowhere to be seen, probably out taking a walk around Super Rock Village.

That gave Cale enough time to properly examine the machine.

Analyzing the project, he could compare it to some older versions of energy generators from Earth.

He looked toward the children. On and Hong watched curiously, while Raon looked ready to dissect the machine piece by piece, eager for knowledge.

Eruhaben had not wanted the little dragon inside the laboratory during the first tests, for safety reasons, even though Cale doubted Raon could get hurt under the elder’s supervision.

Raon had worked on some of the mechanical parts from afar, but he was still excited to test the machine.

"Should it be sparking like that?"

On pointed it out. The kitten’s yellow eyes were sharp and attentive.

He immediately looked back at the machine. Indeed, small blue sparks were coming out of it.

"I believe it is conducting energy. We should ask Haben-nim."

He spoke calmly, gesturing for them to move outside.

Hong and On stepped behind him.

"Human, that was not supposed to happen. It was working yesterday!"

He frowned at Raon’s words, since the boy definitely should not have been there yesterday unsupervised.

The little dragon moved forward, his black wings flapping lightly.

"Raon."

He called out, but the boy seemed determined to solve the issue.

He sighed, looking toward On for help from the eldest daughter.

She had gained quite a bit of authority among the younger siblings, a natural sort of respect reserved for the oldest sister.

"Raon Miru, appa thinks this is dangerous."

On spoke firmly, though worry colored her voice. The silver kitten’s tail swayed slightly, betraying her concern.

The little dragon froze. He stepped away from the countless wires of the machine.

He exchanged a glance with the redhead, silently confirming if that was really the case.

Cale nodded to the youngest, and the child flew closer to him. At that same moment, something started happening.

In an instant, the sparks intensified, making the air feel heavy.

The hairs on his arm rose from the static electricity in the air, anticipating an incoming discharge.

Cale stepped back. The children did too.

–This is not good.– he thought, retreating several more steps.

As a precaution, he raised his shield. Silver wings wrapped around the quartet.

His powers protested, warning him that it was about to explode.

"Human. It’s going to go boom."

The little dragon spoke anxiously.

He was not afraid of the explosion, despite the fact that this was basically a magical bomb powered by electricity.

Now that he thought about it, mixing those two things together did not sound very smart.

Raon added more shields around them to soften the impact.

Then it exploded. The energy was strong enough to crack three out of Raon’s four shields.

Eruhaben’s safety measures also activated, restricting the damage.

They would have a lot of work fixing the walls afterward.

–If they are still standing after this.– the redhead thought tiredly.

It was only a passing thought.

Soon, he had to focus on something strange.

He felt himself being pulled. Amid the overwhelming display of lights, it was difficult to identify.

The children noticed it too, clutching onto his leg.

They did not even have time to react before they were sucked in. The explosion was pulling them instead of pushing them away.

Cale’s head spun. It was worse than riding a roller coaster.

He felt like a tiny fish trapped inside an aquarium, being shaken from side to side.

The motion left him completely disoriented.

His powers screamed for him.

He could not think properly. Or almost not at all. Only a single thought crossed his mind.

–Fuck. This time it wasn’t the God of Death’s doing.

He blacked out.

Everything went dark.

His consciousness slowly returned, his senses slipping back into their usual state of alertness.

The wind whipped against his clothes, strong gusts slamming into his body.

He tried opening his eyes, but struggled.

His instincts and powers warned him of imminent danger. A fall.

He was disoriented and falling.

–"Wind, Cale!"

–"Use wind!"

–"Cale!!!"

His powers screamed in desperation.

Adrenaline began rushing through him.

Then something touched him. For a second, he thought he had already hit the ground.

But no. The pain never came. Only the dizziness spinning through his head.

The redhead forced his eyes open. Everything was blurry and distorted, and his head throbbed painfully.

All he could make out were two white lenses that almost resembled eyes. They looked strangely expressive in their surprise and confusion.

He groaned.

And blacked out once again.

Patrol was over for him.

23:00.

The next day, early in the morning, he would be back at school again.

His routine had been exhausting ever since he debuted as Spider-Man about six months ago.

Many people might say he was doing an adult’s job, but Peter believed he should use his powers to help people.

Age did not matter.

Today, he had helped a lot of people, even if they had not been in life-or-death situations.

Hey, who said heroes could not help an old lady carry her groceries?

Peter landed on the side of a building, casually sticking to the wall.

It had been a little complicated getting used to this new spider side of himself.

He did so many weird things.

A low buzzing made the hairs on his body stand on end. Almost like a faint whisper.

That was one of those things. He called it his spider-sense.

He could tell when something was coming toward him or when something dangerous was about to happen nearby.

He turned his head toward the source of the buzzing.

"Didn’t know people went skydiving without parachutes."

He muttered the comment to himself.

Peter watched the exact moment the sky tore open in a rip and spat out a person — if it was really human.

He leaned back, building momentum to jump. He aimed with his wrist, and a white web stuck to the wall of another building.

Then he swung into the air.

–Weaving a web net between buildings would waste too much energy.–

He thought.

And from that height, it would probably hurt the person more than help them.

Peter calculated the distance. He could not let the person hit the ground.

With a quick swing between buildings, he managed to catch the person from the side. He held them with one arm while hanging from the web with the other.

"Whoa, that was close!"

He said in relief.

Still confused, he looked down at the person in his arms. Reddish-brown eyes stared back at him.

He descended onto a rooftop.

"Ma’am...? Sir...? Are you okay?"

He asked.

The man — he believed it was a man — was limp in his arms.

His head lolled to the side.

Peter let out a horrified breath.

–Oh my God. Jesus, he’s not dead, right?–

He quickly focused on listening to the man’s heartbeat. Relief washed over him when he heard the steady rhythm.

"And now what? I’ve got an unconscious redhead."

He adjusted the man in his arms before sliding him onto his back in a more comfortable position.

"Whew, okay... okay. You can do this, P. First, a doctor."

Peter tried to stay calm.

–Look on the bright side. Aunt May is going to take a while to get home from her nursing shift.–

He wondered where that man had come from.

–Could he be Asgardian?–

Peter tilted his head thoughtfully.

"Why not? He’s pretty and he fell from the sky."

He shook his head.

–Where am I supposed to take an unconscious alien?–

He prayed his aunt would not get home early, because he was about to do exactly what she always told him not to do.

Bring a stranger home.

Well, he did not know what else to do afterward.

He swung between the buildings, careful not to disturb the unconscious man.

His instincts remained alert to everything around him during the trip.

~•~•~

Raon had not planned for that to happen. He just wanted to see the machine Goldie was building. He might have snuck in during the night to observe it.

He did not touch anything!

He only watched. But from what Grandpa had explained, it should not release blue sparks unless there was some kind of external overload, some sort of interference.

Then it exploded. Not only did it explode — it looked like a rift. Like a hole made of light.

It pulled everyone inside. It was incredibly bright, but he kept his eyes open for a moment.

He saw images rushing past at incredible speed, twisting in blue spirals.

He saw a distorted image of the human. He seemed to be somewhere strange, surrounded by strange people wearing masks and a red helmet. Bird and bat symbols marked their chests.

It passed too quickly to understand.

He saw a giant black cat and his siblings sleeping while clinging to it. A strange sight.

The images flowed like water.

Another formed. Human Appa alongside a mini human who looked similar to him.

Everything spun.

Then suddenly, he was falling.

He flapped his wings. Dragons did not fall just because of a little momentary confusion!

But he needed to land soon. His head was spinning.

He glided downward.

His eyes quickly adjusted to the environment.

He immediately searched for his siblings and Appa, but there was nothing except stars.

Those stars did not look the same as the ones back home.

He shook his head.

He could not get lost in thought.

Where was his family?

The magical rift had disappeared.

He could feel the magic differently against his scales.

Raon analyzed the strange composition of mana in that place. He could feel nature within it. It did not seem tied only to that world.

It felt as though it stretched everywhere, like branches.

"Wow... Hello, great world tree."

He whispered in fascination.

The magic danced around him in response.

Raon looked more carefully at the place below him. There were countless bright lights, extremely tall towers, and so much noise.

He frowned slightly.

First, he needed to get his bearings. A landmark would be useful.

He chose the giant tower with the enormous "A."

It was the tallest one, and it carried a strange energy.

He took a deep breath.

His chest tightened for a second — but he was great and mighty. He would find his Appa and his siblings.

He flapped his little wings, flying across the sky.

On’s instincts were equally sharp.

With adrenaline running high, it was terrifying.

One moment they were with Cale, clinging to his leg. Then her little brother, Hong, started getting pulled away and lost his grip.

She quickly shifted into her human form, catching her younger brother. She held him tightly, protecting him.

She felt the world spin. One moment later, she was falling, still clutching her brother against her chest.

Her head hurt. She felt like she was going to pass out again or throw up.

But she needed to land.

On twisted her body midair to judge the distance from the ground. There was not much time left.

Her silver hair whipped violently in the wind.

Her weight was greater in human form. The impact would be worse like this.

She pulled Hong close to her chin, lightly biting the back of his neck to hold onto him. Her feline instincts were in full force.

The transformation slowed the fall, but it did not stop it.

They crashed against something soft.

On let out a quiet meow. Her head hurt.

She turned her head, trying to see something. Her vision was blurry.

Hong was unconscious beside her.

She curled protectively around her brother, trying to shield him.

Soon after, she passed out.

The alleyway was cold and dark.

Hidden from the city lights.

But the tear in the sky had not gone unnoticed by those who always kept watch for changes and potential threats.

The first time was an accident. The second was coincidence. And the third...

It was confirmation.

An alarm was triggered in the analog and technological division.

Below the surface, there was an underground base far from prying eyes, a place ordinary civilians would never step foot in.

An organization worked for the government while wearing a leash loose enough to still allow them their own choices.

S.H.I.E.L.D. operated behind the scenes, keeping everything at least within an acceptable standard.

And at that moment, that standard could be broken.

The operations room was chaotic.

People analyzed images freshly captured by cameras scattered throughout New York City.

Loud typing sounds, blaring alarms, incoming messages, and information being passed around filled the room.

The technicians worked quickly.

Someone spun around in their chair.

"How long until this ends up on the internet?"

The person asked without stopping their typing.

"About ten minutes. It’s not a very busy hour."

Another person answered.

Murmurs spread through the room. Everyone remained focused on their computers.

Not much time. But this was still their job.

Someone knocked on the door before partially stepping inside.

"Director Fury is coming to inspect the incident."

Their supervisor announced, already pinching the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses.

Different sounds of complaint erupted from the employees.

"Someone stop that one-eyed pirate from getting in our way."

One of the technicians grumbled.

The intern, who clearly did not understand anything, asked:

"Should you really be talking about the director like that?"

Everyone shot the man a deadly look. The poor guy immediately raised his hands in surrender.

The supervisor grabbed a coffee and downed the remaining liquid in one go.

"You’ll understand eventually. Think this job is easy? You’re mistaken."

He placed the cup back on the table.

Everyone returned to work.

The faster they organized the situation, the less they would hear about it later.

Seven minutes later, footsteps echoed outside.

Nick Fury entered the room without knocking, simply imposing his presence.

"Report."

He demanded more than asked.

He stopped in the middle of the room, hands behind his back in a falsely disciplined posture. Two guards stood behind him, merely as a precaution.

One eye was covered by an eyepatch, but that did not make him any less observant.

The black leather coat looked practically fused with his identity.

To avoid an awkward silence, the supervisor stepped forward.

"Three anomalies were detected throughout New York. At separate and distant locations. The composition is still being analyzed, but it appears to resemble some kind of portal, similar to previous occurrences such as LK-017 and the Battle of New York incident involving the Chitauri."

He spoke neutrally, giving as much information as possible, even if it was still insufficient.

Fury remained impassive in the center of the room.

"Has it reached the internet yet?"

He asked.

One of the technicians straightened up.

"Two tweets taken down, devices hacked, and files deleted."

The director did not look satisfied.

Even with the risk already contained.

"How many more people saw it? I hope this doesn’t spread. The internet is still stirred up over the last attack. Push another story instead. That new Spider-Man or something."

He said while turning his back.

The employees continued working, only slightly more stressed beneath the pressure of the director’s presence.

Before he could leave, the supervisor stopped him for a moment.

"Wait. How is Agent Coulson?"

He asked seriously, looking directly at Fury without backing down.

The director stared at him silently for a moment.

Then he turned away, walking down the hallway in slow steps.

"The agent is recovering. Don’t spread that around. We don’t want that information reaching the wrong ears."

He finally answered before disappearing farther into the corridor.

The tension lingered in the air even after he left.

The intern, uncertain how his question would be received, shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other.

All that nervousness caught the supervisor’s attention.

"Go ahead and ask."

He said.

The intern opened his mouth.

"What happened to that agent?"

He asked.

Some exchanged glances while others simply kept working.

"Agent Phil Coulson was severely injured during the LK-017 attack. Up until now, his condition had not been disclosed for over six months."

The supervisor answered.

The intern did not fully understand Agent Coulson’s role within S.H.I.E.L.D. He only knew the man was respected and disciplined.

Many other agents liked him and had been visibly shaken when he was injured.

Information about him was scarce within the facility. Nobody talked much.

The supervisor patted his shoulder.

"Get back to work. And stop digging around where you shouldn’t."

The man said.

The intern nodded.

He sat in front of his computer, joining the others typing nonstop.

He analyzed the images and incoming information.

"One of the rifts opened near Avengers Tower. And Stark’s cameras are better. Shouldn’t we ask him?"

The man asked.

The supervisor stopped beside him.

"We are not involving third parties until we receive orders. And Stark rarely helps."

The intern looked thoughtful while staring at Avengers Tower, which still belonged to Tony Stark.

Playboy, rich, and billionaire. Basically Batman.

The man smiled to himself, amused by the thought as he continued working.

A second image remained open on the screen, showing an angle that captured the tower.

~•~

Arriving at the tower.

The little dragon landed on the rooftop. His claws clicked against the floor.

He tilted his head, analyzing the tower.

The materials were strange, and the architectural style was just as strange as the other towers surrounding it.

He tucked his little wings closer to himself.

He was curious about the energy he could feel coming from the tower. It was almost like a staff channeling mana, but it was not the true source, since there was a core.

He did not know how to categorize that energy, but he believed it was electricity, from the little he had learned from Eruhaben.

But it also seemed concentrated in a single point, without spreading everywhere or becoming extremely explosive.

Raon wondered:

–If Grandpa Goldie’s mana and electricity generator had this kind of stability...–

A sound above his head caught his attention.

A male voice spoke:

“Good evening. You are currently on private property. Could you kindly identify yourself?”

Raon jumped in surprise.

He looked around, but saw no one.

He did not fully understand what had been said. The language sounded unfamiliar.

Some words resembled his native language, but sounded different.

Like the English his human had been teaching him!

"Magic voice?"

He asked in English, with an accent that was half Korean and half Roan.

There was a brief pause without a response.

“Your speech pattern presents unusual variations. I can adjust my communication to facilitate understanding.”

The magical voice sounded neutral and robotic.

It even reminded Raon a little of little Mary.

Raon understood half of what the voice said.

He swished his tail in confusion.

"I do not need adaptation. I am strong and smart, magic voice."

He puffed out his chest proudly, unwilling to acknowledge weakness at first glance.

Even though he knew there was nothing wrong with accepting help.

“As you wish. However, I would like to correct you: my name is Jarvis. I am an AI, not a magic voice.”

The voice explained. He spoke more slowly this time.

That made it easier for Raon to understand, even though there was still a new word he did not recognize.

"Is AI a spirit?"

He tilted his head, staring up toward the ceiling of the penthouse.

J.A.R.V.I.S. promptly provided a technical definition:

“Artificial Intelligence is a tool created by humans, consisting of algorithms capable of simulating cognition. — In simple terms, I imitate human mental processes using data and logic.”

The little dragon froze for a moment, still not understanding despite the slow explanation.

"What do you mean created? Like a machine or a chimera?"

He asked, confused and curious to learn.

Jarvis analyzed the scaled creature’s questions.

Based on the collected data and completed analyses, the small being partially fit within the reptile category.

However, its physiology resembled mythical creatures such as dragons.

And its curiosity and behavior mirrored the patterns of a human child.

Jarvis formulated a possible answer.

He noticed how the little being already possessed a basic understanding, since he had mentioned machines — a form of technology.

A small advancement.

“In my case, created means developed. I was not formed from living matter, like a chimera. I was built through codes and systems — logical structures that allow thought and learning.”

He explained calmly, using simpler terms to make understanding easier.

That seemed to leave the little dragon thoughtful.

Apparently interested and fully focused on the conversation.

His tail swayed.

“Is code like written magic? Or is it more like mathematical calculations, like electricity?”

Once again, the small dragon asked sharp and precise questions.

Unusual comparisons, but fascinating and even logical.

Jarvis decided to continue explaining things to the dragon, who apparently possessed an endless supply of questions.

As his programming dictated, he detected no signs of danger coming from the little being.

So, following protocol, he decided to notify his employer.

Splitting his attention between tasks, he redirected his focus toward Tony Stark.

The man was inside the workshop, focused on an armor project.

Drinking under moderation and monitoring.

That was already his second glass.

Jarvis had set an alarm in case he exceeded two and a half glasses.

"Sir, you have a visitor."

He informed him.

Tony ignored him. Typical.

It took him a while to respond, too focused on dismantling a coffee machine, which theoretically should have had absolutely nothing to do with armor creation.

Which meant the man was bored.

"I'm busy. Schedule it for later."

The man grumbled, a screwdriver hanging from his mouth.

Jarvis opened Tony’s database to check his schedule. Mrs. Pepper Potts had left the entire evening free.

So there was room to fit it in.

Turning his attention back toward the conversation with the little dragon,

Jarvis guided him toward a less private area.

Meanwhile, he continued explaining technical and technological terms.

The dragon seemed curious to see how everything worked in practice.

So Jarvis suggested he use a laptop.

He made sure to choose one Tony had never used, merely another among the countless copies of Stark technology.

The latest model, in fact.

Jarvis occupied himself with the new task of teaching the little dragon a bit about technology.

Patiently.

Explaining complex terms and collecting data about the small being.

The language barrier occasionally complicated the process, but they were progressing quickly.

The entire process was proving interesting.

At some point, Tony gave up on dismantling the coffee machine.

Now that the man was free, Jarvis could direct him toward the small guest.

"Boss, your guest is waiting."

Jarvis said.

The AI’s voice pulled Tony from his disconnected thoughts.

He looked up.

His brow furrowed slightly.

"You still haven’t kicked them out?"

He asked, leaning against the table.

“No. You said you were busy at the moment and would be free later. You are currently doing nothing, therefore you may now see the guest.”

J.A.R.V.I.S. explained.

Tony Stark pinched the bridge of his nose.

Even though he was bored, he was not desperate enough for social interaction.

"Was it Pepper who scheduled this meeting?"

He asked, mildly irritated.

He knew the blonde could be persistent about these appointments and sometimes did not even warn him because she knew he would invent excuses to ignore meetings or whatever else.

“No, sir. This visit was not on your schedule. I fit it in where there was available space.”

Tony analyzed the information.

–Who shows up without going through Pepper first?–

He frowned.

"You let them come up?"

He asked.

Either his AI was trying to annoy him, or this was truly important enough that it could not be ignored.

“They are currently on this floor, in one of the formal residential areas.”

Tony opened his mouth in shock.

Jarvis had let someone this high into the tower.

Who exactly was this person?

Now that definitely killed his boredom.

"Hm. This better be worth my time."

He picked up the glass, still containing a little liquid.

His steps were lazy and long.

When he reached the living room, he saw no one nearby.

He frowned.

Looking more carefully.

Noticing a small black figure on the couch.

–What is that, a dog?–

He glanced at the drink in his hand.

He had not drunk that much. Maybe he was hallucinating from exhaustion.

"Jarvis, am I hallucinating or is there a dog on my couch?"

He asked, just to make sure.

“Considering the amount of alcohol you have consumed and the fact that it is not yet particularly late by your standards, you are completely sober. Your question is incorrect, because that is not a dog.”

Tony stared at the creature, which was currently devouring a bag of peanuts while using a laptop.

He frowned.

The thing tilted its head, staring back at him with large blue eyes.

"Smart Jarvis is correct. I am a mighty dragon, not a dog."

The creature puffed out its chest.

Tony blinked slowly.

He stared at the dragon.

Then he turned around and took a long sip to finish his drink.

"No. This is not for me."

He muttered, considering simply going to sleep.

Wind brushing against the back of his neck made him stop.

The sound of flapping wings caused him to look back toward the supposed reptile.

"Human Stark, what is that in your chest? A bomb?"

The little dragon asked curiously. His childish voice echoed much too close.

He was very close.

Which caused a certain amount of discomfort.

Tony stepped back slightly, staring at the scaled paw pointing toward his chest.

Toward the reactor embedded there.

He paused to think for a moment before answering:

"Technically? Yes. But it’s also the only thing keeping me from dying, so… I prefer calling it a luxury accessory."

He replied, somewhat defensive and still thoroughly confused by the entire situation.

The dragon stared curiously, as if trying to understand how the reactor worked.

"Did someone put that there? Is it a restriction? Does it hurt?"

That last question sounded more sincere and innocent.

Tony... did not quite know how to react.

So he decided to focus on something else.

The little dragon was not even flapping his wings. He was simply floating in front of him.

Which, yes, sparked quite a bit of curiosity in the man.

Fascinating.

They shared a mutual curiosity.

"Whoa, slow down with the questions. We barely know each other."

Tony rubbed his beard, analyzing the way the dragon floated around like a ghost.

His mind was already working overtime trying to understand how that was possible.

The little dragon flapped his wings excitedly.

"I am the strong and mighty Raon Miru. I am an incredible six years old. And you are Smart Jarvis’s human."

There was something a little funny about the way the dragon lifted his head proudly while saying his own name.

In mythology, dragons were kind of arrogant, right?

Tony noticed the faint Korean accent. Years of dealing with people from all over the world had given him that ability.

Raon Miru. Happy dragon.

–Interesting. I doubt his mother picked that name.–

And who named their child “happy human”?

Tony tried focusing on a single subject while setting the glass down on a nearby table.

"What do you mean I’m Jarvis’s human? Like owner? Creator?"

He asked.

Walking toward the couch with the dragon right behind him.

He glanced at what mini Happy had been doing on the laptop.

–Oh. Programming.–

He analyzed the lines of code on the screen.

"You did this?"

He asked, pointing toward the laptop display.

At the same time, he grabbed the rest of the peanut bag and started eating.

The dragon let out an offended grumble at the action.

"Smart Jarvis was teaching me a little. Grandpa Goldie said it is good to expand your areas of knowledge. Programming is interesting. I want to test if it is possible to program magic. Scrolls exist, and they hold magic until they are torn apart."

The little scaled being talked a lot. And quickly.

It became slightly confusing, since he mixed English, Korean, and a language Tony did not recognize.

Tony stopped chewing just to process whatever the hell the little dragon had said.

Jarvis decided to speak up.

“He said he wants to attempt programming magic. He referenced the use of scrolls for that purpose.”

He summarized Raon’s explanation.

"How does that work, mini Happy?"

Tony asked.

The dragon narrowed his eyes at the nickname.

Raon thought about it for a moment.

Happy was Raon, so mini Happy meant little Raon?

He would let it slide this time.

"I write the spell on the scroll using mana. The paper stores the magic. Once the scroll is torn, the magic is released."

He gave a simple explanation.

But Human Stark did not seem satisfied with that answer.

That left Raon slightly frustrated.

He opened his spatial dimension. Or tried to.

Raon looked suspiciously at the small spatial rift.

It seemed there had been changes inside his space, as if it had become distorted.

His magic no longer aligned perfectly with that space-time.

He retrieved a prepared scroll.

Then he turned to show the paper to Stark.

The human was practically hovering over him with wide, curious eyes.

"Woah, what was that just now? A portal?"

Raon tilted his head back slightly.

"It is my spatial dimension. I store things there."

The dragon explained simply.

That seemed to be driving Stark insane.

The man reminded him a little of Rosalyn, curious about understanding magic.

Understanding was different from learning.

The human stepped back slightly.

“Okay, mini Happy, let’s make a deal: you show me how this works… and I’ll show you something better than that laptop.”

He proposed.

That intrigued Raon.

The laptop was a very interesting tool. Very useful.

Something even better immediately caught his attention. However, he still wanted to fully understand how the laptop functioned.

"I would prefer if you showed me more about the laptop first. I have not fully mastered it yet. Then we can increase the level afterward."

As though he were discussing the process of solving a puzzle.

That seemed to confuse the human for a moment.

But he quickly regained composure.

"Okay, little Happy. One step at a time."

Tony started asking questions.

Raon answered in his own way.

Jarvis translated whenever necessary.

And the conversation continued unfolding.

~•~

The streets were almost empty.

Only a few cars and people wandered through Queens at that hour.

Most were asleep.

Peter should have been asleep too.

But there he was, in the middle of the night, carrying a person on his back.

He was already regretting his choices.

–This doesn’t seem like a good idea. But if I were an alien, I’d want to wake up somewhere safe.–

Peter opened the window of his bedroom.

Aunt May’s apartment was silent.

Laying the redhead on the bed, he paused for a moment.

"Dumb impulsive actions."

He muttered to himself.

Don’t blame him, he’s a teenager.

Peter stepped back to change clothes in the bathroom. It was better not to be associated with Spider-Man.

After changing, he stood in the middle of the room, not knowing what to do.

His stomach growled.

Something to do.

Eat.

He turned and walked to the kitchen.

Ever since he was bitten by a radioactive spider and gained powers — his hormones had been a mess.

To compensate for the amount of energy spent making webs, he needed to eat more.

A lot more.

Peter hadn’t told Aunt May about his powers. Even so, it wasn’t hard to come up with an excuse for his newly developed absurd appetite.

The older woman said he was just growing, that it was normal to eat a lot.

He felt guilty about lying to her. She was the only family he had left.

Things had already been tight for them since Uncle Ben passed away.

He soon reached the kitchen, opening the cupboard to prepare a snack.

Making peanut butter sandwiches.

He thought.

Peter didn’t want to be a burden.

That’s why he did small jobs at school for other students, mostly in chemistry and math.

He was good at solving problems. Not a genius or anything.

He just wanted to help his aunt somehow.

So a little extra money was welcome. Even if May never accepted his share.

That’s why he used the money to help with small things. Replacing missing groceries, buying parts to fix appliances at home.

He managed however he could.

After finishing the sandwiches, he returned to the room with a plate.

Sitting beside the bed, he began nibbling at the food.

His mouth salivated — or almost. It was actually digestive venom. Spider stuff.

He looked at the redhead. He didn’t seem very old. Young adult, maybe.

But it was impossible to guess his age, considering Thor had decades of life and still looked young.

The redhead was handsome. Like a magazine model.

But there was something about his hair — a deeper red than Black Widow’s. Weird in a cool way.

Something about the man emitted a strange energy that made Peter’s hairs rise slightly in its presence.

–Similar to that rift he came out of.–

Peter thought.

He wondered how that man ended up there.

Was it calculated or not?

Was he really Asgardian?

Peter lifted his head when he felt he was being watched.

Reddish-brown eyes met his.

No words were exchanged. Just a mutual assessment.

Either way, the redhead closed his eyes again.

Letting out a breath afterward.

His voice sounded slightly rough.

"lv noïj tåm?"

It was a question, judging by the tone.

Peter blinked, staring at the redhead without understanding a single word.

"Uh… I didn’t understand you."

He scratched the back of his neck.

The situation didn’t seem dangerous.

He just hadn’t considered the language barrier.

The redhead sat up on the bed, observing him with alert eyes and a neutral face.

Then he spoke.

"I asked where I am."

The English caught the boy off guard.

He crossed his legs into a lotus position.

Setting the plate of sandwiches aside.

"You… uh. You’re on Earth. Or Midgard. United States, New York. And Queens."

He gestured awkwardly, not really knowing how to explain it.

The redhead said nothing at first, processing the information.

When the boy spoke in English — a language Cale hadn’t heard since Korea in his past life — it confirmed he was not in his world.

United States. New York.

One of the major powers of his old world.

He needed the year to understand better.

His eyes scanned the surroundings.

Looking for a reference point.

He was in a room. He had no idea how he got there.

The last thing he remembered was a being with large white lenses and a red mask with black web patterns.

His memory ability was intact — he remembered everything in detail.

The voice matched the boy’s.

So they were likely the same person.

With his assumptions organized and no immediate danger, Cale set his priorities.

He looked at the bed instinctively, searching for the familiar warmth of children.

His hands found nothing.

He paused.

Then spoke.

"Where are the children?"

He demanded.

His eyes darkened.

The boy uncrossed his legs, keeping his hands visible — clearly not a threat.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir. Maybe… we should calm down and try to understand the situation?"

He said nervously, but not afraid — just cautious.

Cale exhaled slowly, trying to think logically.

If the boy didn’t see the children, then they probably didn’t come with him.

Based on the sequence of events, Raon was the first to be pulled. That was the last thing he saw before passing out.

That only made him more uneasy.

He didn’t know where his children were.

Or if they were hurt.

The redhead stood up.

The boy stepped back slightly, alert.

Cale needed to start searching. But his location was still unclear — like finding a needle in a haystack.

He looked back at the teenager again.

Young. Barely older than Lock.

Brown messy hair, doe-like eyes.

He didn’t seem hostile, considering he had helped and caught him before the fall.

"How did you bring me here, boy?"

The question made Peter nervous.

Cale pinched the bridge of his nose. Normally he’d be more patient with children, but he didn’t have time for this.

So he rephrased.

"Where did you find me? I need to return to the location."

He said.

Scanning the room again.

The window. The night shadows.

Then back to the boy.

Peter shifted uncomfortably.

He hadn’t thought that far ahead. Anything could expose his identity.

"I can try to find the place again…"

He suggested.

The redhead studied him.

Then answered:

"Alright. Just hurry."

Peter stood, grabbing the plate of sandwiches.

He went to the kitchen and put everything away.

Then returned, struggling slightly to put on a blue hoodie.

The redhead simply watched in silence as he moved around.

Putting on his sneakers at last.

"Ready?"

Peter gave a thumbs-up.

"By the way, my name is Peter. Peter Parker."

He said, grabbing a backpack.

"Cale Henituse."

The redhead replied.

The name made the boy think.

He expected something like Aphroditeson or something. Cale was nice. Who said he couldn’t be the son of Aphrodite or Artemis?

But those were Greek gods, not Norse.

–MJ would know. I know nothing about mythology.–

Peter shook his head.

Looked at the redhead.

"Nice to meet you, Cale."

He pointed to the door.

The redhead followed closely.

They left the building on foot.

Cale observed everything around him, as if adjusting to the environment.

Peter scratched the back of his neck.

"It’s kinda dangerous at night…"

The boy didn’t seem to like the silence between them.

Which was a problem, because the redhead didn’t feel like talking.

So the easiest way was to make the boy talk.

Cale crossed the street.

"How’s the crime rate here?"

He asked, just to keep the conversation going.

The boy began talking about robberies and night assaults.

Cale listened, storing the information while walking.

He thought about the children.

Raon could handle himself. He was smart.

On and Hong, if together, would be fine.

He refocused on Peter’s speech.

"...And that’s why Spider-Man is the friendly neighborhood hero."

The boy said excitedly, much more relaxed now.

In short, Peter had ended up talking about crime and drifted into the topic of the Queens vigilante.

Spider-Man.

A very literal name. Easy to understand: spider-like abilities or something similar.

The lenses and suit had obvious spider elements.

Cale connected the dots, especially from how Peter referred to the vigilante in third person.

It was easy to deduce he was hiding his secret identity.

Cale didn’t want to break that fake secret. He didn’t know how Peter would react to being exposed.

He had to admit the boy was extremely reckless for bringing a stranger home.

They stopped under a streetlight.

"You seem to like Spider-Man."

He commented calmly.

Looking directly into Peter’s eyes.

The boy subtly fidgeted with the hem of his hoodie.

“Yeah… he’s around here. Helps with normal stuff. People don’t notice it, but it still matters, you know?”

Cale looked beyond the buildings, toward the sky.

He didn’t really understand good people.

People who cared about small things. Who didn’t expect fame, money, or anything in return.

He tilted his head, looking at the boy.

This boy was one of them.

"Those small things… are the ones that grow too big to ignore."

He said.

He had learned that over time.

One action leads to another.

But he didn’t regret anything. None of the choices that brought him here.

The simple act of feeding two street children, something that should have been temporary.

Helping a young dragon become free, hoping he would follow his own path.

He did not regret any of his choices, even if he never expected this outcome.

He started walking again.

Peter followed.

"Yeah… everything has a beginning."

The boy stayed silent after that, thoughtful.

Though the conversation had made him nervous at first, he soon calmed down.

Cale had given him something to think about.

The idea that small actions could create change… was nice.

He didn’t expect to hear that from someone as closed off as the redhead.

Which somehow made the words even more impactful.

Peter looked up.

"Uh, it’s this way."

He pointed toward the lower buildings.

The redhead walked up the fire escape, looking for a better view.

Cale scanned the sky carefully.

Then shifted his gaze to the cameras scattered across the buildings.

Peter just watched.

Then tilted his head up.

"That might have recorded it… My friend can check it. If you want to involve more people."

He suggested.

The redhead looked at the camera thoughtfully, then nodded.

"That seems like a smart choice."

Cale said finally, climbing down to Peter’s level.

The teenager fiddled with his backpack, pulling out his phone.

"I’ll just call him."

Peter hoped Ned was still awake.

He should be worried about refusal or something.

But his best friend would never leave him hanging.

On the second ring, the call was answered.

"Hey, Peter. Why are you calling this late? Forgot your history homework?"

The voice teased.

Peter sighed at the familiar tone.

He glanced sideways at the redhead.

The older man was watching the cameras and sky, seemingly distant.

Peter returned to the call.

"Hey, man. It’s not school. I need your help…"

He said quietly, like it was a secret.

He could hear his friend moving, probably dramatically adjusting in his chair like a comic panel.

"Tell me more. What are your business?"

Ned said in an exaggerated serious voice.

Peter focused, slightly nervous.

"I need… you to pull some security camera footage."

He said.

On the other end, Ned sat at his desk, phone to his ear.

He frowned.

Peter — his best friend — wanted him to hack cameras. That was probably illegal.

Still, his best friend asked.

–Loyalty first, right?–

He thought.

His fingers were already typing on the computer keyboard with one hand.

"Sure thing. Easy peasy."

He replied.

It shouldn’t be too hard.

He heard Peter’s relieved sigh.

What wouldn’t he do for his friend?

"I want the context later."

He warned, curious about what the hell Peter was getting into.

Peter hesitated.

"Yeah… I’ll explain later."

He ended the call after saying goodbye.

He hated lying to Ned. His friend was a safe place, just like Aunt May.

The footage was dangerously revealing for his secret identity.

He really needed a good excuse for wanting Spider-Man footage specifically.

Ned was a Spider-Man fan like everyone else.

Not knowing Peter was Spider-Man.

Which was sometimes great.

And sometimes extremely uncomfortable.

Peter sighed.

Looked at Cale.

The redhead stood with arms crossed, waiting.

With his enhanced senses and proximity, Peter could hear a faint rumble in his stomach.

–He must be hungry. It’s late.–

Peter himself was still hungry too. He hadn’t finished the sandwiches.

But would Cale even accept simple food?

He barely knew the guy.

And where would he stay tonight? On the street?

The more Peter thought, the bigger the problem seemed.

He shook his head and looked directly at the redhead.

"I think maybe we should go back to my apartment for now. Until my friend finds something. I mean… you probably shouldn’t be walking around New York without knowing where you are…"

He said, adjusting his backpack strap.

The redhead observed silently, considering the options.

Going with Peter seemed like the most sensible choice.

He still needed to adjust to this place.

A temporary shelter would be welcome.

He nodded.

And the two of them began walking back toward the building.

Ned was hacking into the cameras Peter had asked for.

He ended up hitting an obstacle — like someone was actively trying to erase the recordings from the system.

In real time.

That was insane.

The teenager leaned against his desk to focus, hip hop playing through his MP3.

"Alright… now it’s getting serious..."

He typed with skill, bypassing viruses, activating his VPN and fake location routes.

Ned was going to get those recordings for Peter.

The screen showed a progress rate.

18%...

He needed more time to download the footage.

"Okay, activating cuteness bomb!"

He pressed a key.

It was a “gift” he and Peter had built together — malware based on cute GIFs, annoying sounds, and kittens.

He could even hear the cheesy little tune.

"nana... na..."

He hummed, tapping his foot quickly while waiting.

Activating other viruses.

67%...

He frowned when he noticed someone trying to shut down his connection.

"That guy’s good..."

His tongue pressed to the corner of his mouth in concentration.

His fingers flew across the keyboard.

He kept staring at the percentage like it was a ticking bomb.

He started sweating, getting a little nervous.

The screen went black. The computer shut down.

Ned paused for a moment, staring at his reflection in the dark screen.

He breathed slowly.

The computer rebooted on its own.

"Wow... that was... something."

The system had crashed due to a connection failure, but the reboot was something the teenager himself had programmed to prevent his location from being traced.

He exhaled, hands still sweaty.

He grabbed the mouse and opened the folder where the footage had been downloaded.

"Yes!"

He punched the air when he saw 100% in the folder.

After the rush of excitement, he calmed down and leaned back in his chair.

–Whoever it was didn’t want this getting out.

He swallowed hard.

This is above his level.

He rubbed his temple.

His brown eyes returned to the folder, where videos had been recorded in a specific area.

–Let’s see what you got yourself into, Petey.

The cursor clicked play.

The video loaded.

It all began with a clear night sky over Queens. A dark sky scattered with a few stars.

Then a glowing blue tear opened in the middle of the sky.

Like a rip. A fracture in the heavens.

Seconds later, something fell.

The camera quality was low.

But the red-and-blue suit of Spider-Man was unmistakable — even in pixels.

The vigilante swung between buildings, trying to prevent the falling object — or whatever it was — from hitting the ground.

The rift vanished, causing interference in the recordings, which turned into static at the moment Spider-Man caught whatever it was.

At the SHIELD base, one of the technicians analyzed the footage.

In the background, an annoying tune still played — a side effect of the malware.

They had just suffered a system intrusion on the camera network.

No one knew who did it, but the person was extremely intelligent.

"We lost the trace."

One of the staff members said.

The supervisor sighed.

Not everything could be controlled in an operation.

"And the other recordings from other locations?"

He asked.

Walking across the room, he stopped beside a monitor.

The recording showed an area near one of SHIELD’s divisions.

The video occurred at the same time as the other.

The rift opened, and an unidentified object fell.

The cameras captured a humanoid shape — but small.

Because the image was corrupted, it was hard to identify.

One of the technicians pointed at the screen.

"That landed in an alley between buildings."

He said.

The supervisor observed for a moment.

"Inform the director. It’s his call now. We just observe, as always."

He said, leaving the room.

The locations were already marked.

"Fury wanted something involving Spider-Man… lucky him. Now he has a reason."

He muttered, adjusting his glasses.

Spider-Man had direct contact with the anomaly.

The night kept stretching on.

~•~

A faint neon sign flickered, casting weak light into the alley.

Inside a dumpster, something stirred.

Sitting up, still disoriented, a small red kitten looked around.

"Appa?"

He whispered.

His yellow eyes adjusted to the dim light.

His senses slowly returning.

He sniffed, recoiling at the foul smell of garbage.

Looking around, he noticed another silver kitten sleeping beside him.

"Nonna... nonni... please wake up."

He whined, rubbing himself against the older kitten.

No response.

–Where are we? Where are Raon and Appa?–

Hong wondered.

He pulled away from his sister to take a better look around.

He needed to orient himself, to adapt.

"As the human says: food, water, and shelter."

He leaned out of the dumpster, jumping onto some crates.

The ground below had shards of broken glass. He didn’t want to hurt his paws.

Hong moved toward the alley entrance. His vertical pupils narrowed under the harsh light.

People were walking back and forth. Their clothes were strange, simpler.

The streets weren’t made of gravel, and the buildings rose like towers. No horses pulled the carriages in sight.

Everything was unfamiliar.

He sniffed the air. The smell wasn’t clean or pleasant to his sensitive nose.

It was toxic, but not like natural poisons — more like the chemicals Lady Rosalyn used.

He flicked his tail. Despite the bad smell, he caught the scent of food.

That made his stomach growl. They hadn’t eaten lunch.

But it was strange — it was night instead of day. Maybe he had slept too long.

Hong shook his head.

After his brief exploration, he returned to the alley.

He checked on Ohn. She was still asleep.

He grumbled, not wanting to wait.

But if his sister needed rest, he could be patient.

With a shift of his body, a red cloud enveloped him.

He returned to human form.

Checking his pockets, he found his small spatial bag.

Opening it, he looked inside: some Prince Cookie biscuits, two slices of apple pie (from his little brother), daggers given by Grandpa Ron, a few poison vials, and his piggy bank.

He scratched his head, his feline ears briefly appearing with the motion.

"How does money work in this place?"

He wasn’t sure if his currency would be valid here.

Appa had taught them that money didn’t always work between worlds. But gold was gold anywhere.

Either way, his nonna would know what to do.

Hong sat on one of the crates, eating an apple pie.

He was still hungry. He hated having to ration food, but the situation required caution now.

He gently touched the Henituse Duchy brooch on his chest.

At some point, his ears twitched toward a direction.

Someone was approaching.

He hid in a strategic position.

Then he thought about his unconscious sister.

Hong wasn’t used to roles being reversed — his nonna had always protected him.

He pressed his ears flat against his head, alert.

Two people entered the alley. They said nothing.

They simply stood there, as if trying to look inconspicuous.

One of them lit something rolled up. It smelled like smoke and incense.

He stayed still.

After a moment, one of them moved.

Pulling a glowing device from his pocket, like a lantern.

He aimed it toward the shadows.

Hong shrank behind the dumpster.

The human was scanning the entire area.

He stopped in front of the dumpster.

The boy’s fur stood on end.

–They’re close to nonna!–

He grabbed a dagger from his pocket.

A surprise attack would be ideal, but he didn’t know the humans’ intentions. It didn’t matter — he needed to reach his sister.

He leapt from the shadows, kicking the object in the man’s hand.

The adult stepped back in surprise.

The other, at the alley entrance, immediately pointed something at him.

The sound of the shot made his ears ring.

But he didn’t retreat. He growled.

His tail swayed in alertness.

Outwardly brave. Inside, fear.

What was that thing that could pierce walls?

If it hit him…

Hong swallowed.

The humans cursed — he understood the tone, not the language.

A sound behind him caught his attention. Bags rustling.

A weak meow. His sister.

She had woken from the noise.

He stood firm, staring at the humans.

One of them touched a communicator, muttering something.

The other kept his weapon raised.

Stalemate. No one moved.

Then a whistling sound passed near his neck. It missed.

A soft groan from his sister distracted him.

"agh...!"

He looked back.

On was in human form, holding her neck and something in her hand — a dart.

He sniffed. Poison.

He turned quickly.

Sleeping poison!

Hong raised his dagger, but there wasn’t time.

Something pierced his neck.

He staggered, dropping the dagger.

His back hit the dumpster.

A hand touched his shoulder. On was holding him without strength.

He grabbed her hand.

She was already affected, slipping into sleep.

Hong’s vision blurred.

His body reacted to the poison.

Ingesting poison was different from direct exposure.

He resisted, trying to adapt.

He was torn between fascination and terror.

He had never been poisoned like this before.

He felt powerless.

He squeezed On’s hand.

Still growling at the men.

They approached.

A hand grabbed his arm.

He bit the man’s arm, piercing through the clothing.

His saliva carried poison.

More concentrated now. More dangerous.

"Go to hell."

He growled — a curse he had learned from Appa, who the Countess would surely make him wash his mouth out for later.

There was no time for that.

He was struck in the back of the neck and fully blacked out.

The alley falls silent.

One of the men presses his communicator.

"Variables neutralized. The aggressive subject is under control."

He reports.

On the other end of the line, a green signal is given, authorizing them to proceed.

The two agents examine the two children.

"What are they? Mutants?"

One of the men asks, carefully turning the boy over, studying his feline ears and red hair.

"We don’t know, but they were right at the crash site. It looks like Red was trying to protect the other one."

He says, walking through the alley while scanning the surroundings.

He shines his flashlight forward, picking up something similar to what his partner had dropped earlier.

He murmurs:

"Do you think the director will keep these? They’re cats… he likes those fluffy animals. But Nick doesn’t like children."

He says to his partner. But there is no response.

The agent turns at the sound of a thud.

When he looks, his partner is hunched over, clutching his own arm, curled in pain.

He raises his pistol, searching for any sign of danger.

Approaching, he places a hand on the other agent’s shoulder.

"Hey, man. What’s going on?"

He asks.

The other can’t respond, choking. Foam at his mouth—a sign of poison or intoxication.

He presses his communicator.

"Agent Stolas compromised, requesting assistance. Potential intoxication risk. The boy bit him, that might be the trigger."

On the other end of the line, instructions begin to come through.

More agents join them in the alley.

The agent gestures slightly toward the two siblings.

"And them?"

He asks.

The other agent steps forward, picking one of the children up. He places handcuffs on her, which hang loosely around the small, childlike wrists.

He frowns, adjusting the girl in his arms.

"They will be moved to the main base, higher-up orders."

He says.

The other agent nods.

They leave the alley.

Leaving no trace behind.

One location has been cleared. Two remain.

And S.H.I.E.L.D. will keep watch over the anomalies.

Something is happening in New York.

Concept art