Scott Lang stood in the hallway of the Avengers Facility, still catching his breath, as the doors closed behind him. His hair was messy, his clothes ragged from days of wandering, and he looked more like a castaway than a superhero. He stared at the familiar faces—some marked by exhaustion, others by loss—and swallowed hard.
"You guys remember me, right? Ant-Man? We... we met in Germany? Airport? Giant-man thing?"
Steve Rogers stepped forward slowly, arms crossed but brows raised in confusion. "Scott Lang... How the hell are you here?"
Scott took a deep breath. His voice cracked slightly, the urgency pressing through his words. "Okay, long story short? The Quantum Realm. I was trapped in it when the Snap happened. For me, it felt like five hours. But I come out, and it's been five years!"
Bruce Banner, half-Hulk and all scientist, squinted at the data flashing on the console behind him. "Five years here... but five hours for you there? That suggests some serious time dilation."
Tony crossed his arms, expression unreadable. "So, what, you're saying time travel is possible now?"
Scott nodded, a little desperately. "Sort of. Look, I'm not a scientist—okay, I'm the guy who shrinks and talks to ants—but I think we can use the Quantum Realm to go back in time and get the Stones before Thanos does."
The room fell silent, tension crackling in the air. Everyone looked between one another, the audacity of the idea slowly taking root.
Rocket rubbed his chin, his whiskers twitching. "A time heist," he said, slowly grinning. "I like it."
Bruce scratched his head. "Theoretically, it could work. But we'd need a stable tunnel. A safe entry and exit point. And calculations so precise a millimeter off could kill us."
Scott glanced down sheepishly. "I, uh, left the van in storage. It's kind of busted, but maybe salvageable."
Carol Danvers stepped forward, arms folded, her eyes intense. She had short blonde hair, a navy-blue suit lined with red and gold, and a quiet strength that made the others instinctively straighten up. "If there's even a chance to bring everyone back, we take it. We owe them that much."
Steve looked at Tony. "We need your help."
Tony didn't answer. He looked at Steve, then turned and walked out in silence. The atmosphere remained heavy as everyone exchanged glances, a spark of hope beginning to form.
In a quiet cabin far from the facility, Tony stood in his workshop. The hologram of Peter Parker hovered before him—frozen in mid-laugh, the image haunting in its youth and hope. Tony didn't say anything. He just stared, his hand resting on the edge of the console like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.
Pepper approached, calm but firm. She placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You okay?" she asked softly.
Tony didn't respond immediately.
"You've found something, haven't you?" she said, reading him like a book.
He sighed and lowered his head. "The math... it's not impossible. The Quantum Realm could work, with the right guidance. But I promised you. I promised I'd stop."
Pepper knelt beside him. "You also made promises to the people you lost. To Peter."
Tony shut the hologram off. The room dimmed. He closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing the lump in his throat. His fingers lingered where the image had hovered, as if trying to hold onto something no longer there.
"If I do this, and it doesn't work—"
Pepper looked him dead in the eye. "But what if it does? What if it brings them back? What if this is your one shot to make it right?"
She stood, waiting. Tony stared at the empty space where the hologram had been, the silence stretching. Then slowly, his fingers tapped the table. A new calculation flickered to life on the screen. He glanced at a dusty piece of Iron Man armor hanging in the corner—and finally, he nodded to himself.
Back in Wakanda, beneath the surface, the shadows pulsed in tandem with the energy core keeping Alexander alive. He lay unconscious, but his body had begun reacting to the stimuli. His armor flickered with dim light, cracked but still functioning.
The regal shadow—featureless yet ancient—watched in still silence. As cracks spiderwebbed through Alexander's armor, flickers of light danced across his veins.
[SYSTEM REBOOT: INITIATED]
[SYNAPTIC PATHWAY RECOVERY: 17%]
[CORE RESONANCE: STABILIZING]
His hand twitched.
The redacted shadow—one of Alexander's earliest and most loyal summons, veiled in mystery—moved closer, extending a mist-like tendril to reconnect with Alexander's system. His breathing deepened. Within his mind, fragmented visions sparked—memories of battles, allies, and loss. The whispers of Nortis, Noctis, Vasili echoed faintly, as if calling him back.
He wasn't gone.
He was fighting his way back.
"Soon," a voice echoed in the shadows, low and distant, neither fully human nor machine. "Your war is not over. The world still needs you."
Inside a cluttered storage garage, Bruce and Rocket huddled over the rusted remains of Scott's van. Tools lay scattered, and the faint hum of the dormant Quantum Tunnel echoed like a heartbeat. Dust motes danced in the light from the single hanging lamp. A chalkboard covered in equations stood nearby, nearly full.
Rocket frowned. "What kind of idiot stores the gateway to time in a junkyard?"
"Hey," Scott defended, raising a finger. "I didn't know I'd be gone for five years. Give me a break."
Bruce examined the tunnel core. "The structure is intact. With the right power supply and calibration... it's possible. But this will take time."
Natasha entered with a tablet in hand. Her hair was tied back, and her eyes were sharp with focus. "If Tony won't help, can you build it?"
Bruce hesitated. "Not alone. But I can try."
Rocket sighed and muttered, "Unless a miracle walks in right now, we're going to be doing this the hard way."
Just then, the doors to the lab slid open.
Tony Stark entered, holding a metallic device that pulsed with soft blue light.
"I ran some simulations," he said, tossing the device onto the workbench. "Turns out, you're all lucky I'm a genius. Let's build a time machine."
Scott lit up. "Yes! Finally, someone who speaks my language!"
Rocket smirked. "Welcome back, Stark."
Tony gave a tired smile. "Let's get to work."
As dusk settled over the facility, Steve Rogers walked quietly along the memorial wall. He traced his fingers over the names—millions lost to dust. Bucky. Sam. Wanda. The pain etched into every letter felt like a fresh wound reopening. The names of friends. Comrades. Civilians.
He paused at one name. Vision. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his jaw tightening. The air around him grew thick with the scent of rain, and a light drizzle began to fall.
He remembered Vision's sacrifice. Remembered Wanda's scream. The ache in his chest deepened.
"Whatever it takes," he whispered.
From above, storm clouds rolled in. Lightning flashed in the distance, thunder rumbling faintly as if the heavens were listening.
Beneath Wakanda, a spark surged through the shadows.
To be continued.
_________________________________________________________________________
🔥 Hey legends! Quick updates! 🔥
💥 Can't wait for the next chapter? Good news—ALL advance chapters are available on Patreon for just $5! No more waiting, just pure binge-reading goodness! 🚀
👉 patreon.com/cyci07
✨ Power Stone Challenge! ✨
If we hit 100 power stones, I'll drop 2 bonus chapters! Let's see if you guys can make me suffer! 😂
💬 Enjoying the story? Leave a review and let me know your favorite moment so far! It helps the novel grow and reach more readers!
Thanks for all your support—you guys are awesome! ❤️