The Wakandan night sky glittered with stars, casting a silvery glow over the research complex. Inside, the lab pulsed with soft violet and blue light, humming with the quiet symphony of advanced technology. Panels of vibranium circuitry ran like glowing veins along the walls, and at the center of it all, Princess Shuri worked effortlessly, hands weaving through holographic fields.
Clusters of Pym particles floated in a gravity display, suspended in shimmering orbs. They split and merged with each other as if dancing to an unseen rhythm.
Vision stood nearby, his posture impeccable, though the dim light of the Mind Stone revealed the weight on his mind.
"Fascinating," Vision said at last, his voice calm yet laced with awe. He tilted his head slightly, observing the particles as they stabilized perfectly. "You've refined the shrinking stability beyond what Dr. Pym achieved in his prime. It's elegant."
Shuri smirked, not looking up from her work. "We don't hoard knowledge in Wakanda. We improve it. Pym's work had brilliance but lacked imagination."
Vision allowed the faintest smile. "And now you are expanding that imagination into cross-dimensional resonance. Impressive."
Finally, Shuri glanced at him, arching an eyebrow. "You didn't come here just to flatter me, synth-zaddy."
Vision blinked, confused. "I... beg your pardon?"
Shuri laughed softly, waving it off. "Never mind. Seriously, Vision, what brings you here? You've been distracted."
He hesitated. "Two matters, actually. The first is a request. I'd like to introduce you to two bright minds Peter Parker and Ned Leeds. They are, in many ways, heirs to Stark's brilliance. Young, but remarkable."
"The Starklings," Shuri said with an approving grin. "I've read their neural interface paper. Bold work for kids. Fine set it up. I like young thinkers."
Vision nodded, a trace of relief crossing his features. But the ease faded as quickly as it came.
"And the second matter?" Shuri asked, catching the shift in his tone.
Vision's eyes drifted briefly toward the open window, where the silhouette of Tony Stark's stealth jet rested on a distant landing pad. "The rogue Avengers have agreed to travel back to the Compound aboard Stark's jet. I'll be returning with them."
Shuri crossed her arms, reading him easily. "And you're not sure where you fit in with them anymore."
His voice softened. "I am not certain I ever did. My existence has always been tied to conflict Ultron, Lagos, the Civil War. I wonder if my presence only divides what was already fractured."
For a moment, the lab was quiet, save for the hum of vibranium systems. Then Shuri stepped closer, resting a hand lightly on his arm.
"Belonging isn't something you're handed," she said gently. "It's something you claim. You'll know it's the right choice when it hurts to make it."
Vision met her gaze, the weight of her words steadying him. "You speak with wisdom beyond your years, Princess."
"I'm a scientist," Shuri replied with a smirk. "We learn by breaking things and figuring out how to fix them."
The corner of Vision's mouth curved upward, faint but genuine. "Thank you, Shuri."
She turned back to her work, already shifting the holographic display. "Don't thank me yet. Go take that jet ride with your ghosts. And when this mess is done bring me those Starklings. I want to see what they're made of."
Vision inclined his head in respect. "You have my word."
As he left the lab, the glow from the Mind Stone brightened slightly, reflecting the faint hope that maybe just maybe he could still choose where he belonged.
The sleek black Stark jet cut silently through the early morning sky, its cloaking tech shimmering faintly against the rising sun. Inside the cabin, the atmosphere was tense.
Steve Rogers sat with his arms crossed, staring out the window as if he could will the world back together. Natasha Romanoff sat across from him, calm but sharp-eyed, scanning every movement around her. Sam Wilson leaned back, arms folded, his jaw tight with unspoken frustration. Wanda Maximoff sat near the back, her gaze distant and unreadable, scarlet energy flickering faintly at her fingertips whenever her emotions slipped through.
Vision sat at the far end, unmoving, his expression neutral. The faint glow of the Mind Stone pulsed slowly, like a heartbeat. He said nothing, and yet everyone felt his presence.
No one mentioned Tony Stark's name.
Avengers Compound – Eastern Tarmac
The jet touched down with barely a whisper. As the ramp lowered, the team stepped out one by one, boots meeting the concrete with a metallic thud.
The compound was quiet. Too quiet. No personnel bustled around, no technicians greeted them, no signs of welcoming.
Sam frowned, scanning the empty courtyard. "Where is everyone?"
"They knew we were coming," Natasha muttered under her breath. Her posture tightened, instincts on edge. "This doesn't feel right."
Wanda narrowed her eyes, sensing the lingering residue of Stark tech's energy signatures. "Someone's been here recently," she said. "But not Stark."
The hangar doors slid open with a hiss. Out walked Colonel James Rhodes, not in his War Machine armor, but in his sharply pressed dress blues. The ribbons on his chest caught the morning light, his posture straight-backed and commanding. His expression was unreadable stone-cold, eyes sharp.
He stopped a few feet away, boots clicking against the floor. "Well, well," Rhodey said, his voice carrying the kind of authority only earned through years of command. "Look who decided to crawl out of hiding."
Steve stepped forward, shoulders squared. "Rhodey. We came to help."
Rhodey's face hardened, the hint of restrained anger simmering under his calm. "Help? That's rich. Where was this spirit when the team was falling apart? When Stark was patching up the pieces you left behind?"
Sam's fists clenched at his sides. "That's not..."
"Save it," Rhodey cut him off, his tone like a hammer. "You can stand there and throw words around, but actions speak louder. And right now, all I see are ghosts walking in here like nothing happened."
Wanda took a step forward, her voice quiet but firm. "We're not your enemy."
Rhodey's gaze snapped to her, and for a moment it softened but only slightly. "Tony trusted you. All of you. And you broke that. You don't get to walk back in here like it never happened." He shifted his glare back to Steve, voice low but cutting. "You want to fix this? Earn it. You've got a long way to go."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Natasha's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. Steve's jaw tightened. No one dared to push further.
Finally, Rhodey stepped back, voice clipped. "You'll be staying in the west wing. Don't touch anything you're not cleared for. And don't even think about stepping foot on Stark's private levels."
The rogue Avengers exchanged tense glances but said nothing as they followed him inside.
Vision floated quietly at the rear, saying nothing. But as they walked through the compound, he could feel it the invisible fracture lines between them all.
And he knew this was only the beginning.