The morning sun poured in through the cracked window of Kai's rented apartment, painting golden stripes across the thin blanket tossed over his legs. Birds chirped from somewhere beyond the alley, and distant honks echoed from early commuters heading into the city.
For once, Kai woke up before his alarm.
He stretched like a cat, yawned loudly, and rolled off his mattress with a bounce in his step.
"Today's the day," he said to no one in particular. "End of the month. Payday."
He shuffled to the cramped bathroom at the back of the apartment, humming a tune as he brushed his teeth and splashed cold water on his face. It wasn't a luxurious setup—just a sink, mirror, and a leaky shower—but it was home.
After a quick bath, he stood in front of the mirror, wiping fog from the glass.
"Let's go earn some tips," he said, giving himself a finger-gun and a grin.
---
9:45 a.m. – Crispy Crust Pizza, Brooklyn
The smell of baking dough and pepperoni hit him the second he walked into the shop.
"Kai! On time for once!" shouted Marco, the manager, as he wiped his hands on a sauce-stained apron.
Kai grinned. "You try running late on payday."
Marco laughed and tossed a small envelope across the counter. "All right, Friendly Neighborhood Delivery Boy—here's your cut."
Kai caught it mid-air. "Thanks, Marco."
He didn't count it right away. Didn't need to. He trusted Marco, and the envelope felt full enough.
He stuffed it safely into his backpack, threw on his uniform cap, and got to work.
---
Throughout the Day – Delivery Run
The hours rolled by in a blur of pepperoni, cardboard boxes, and winding apartment hallways.
Kai balanced boxes like a pro, zigzagged through narrow stairwells, and dodged every pigeon in Brooklyn. He didn't need to use XLR8 anymore—his human legs were enough these days.
Everywhere he went, people recognized him.
"Hey! It's the pizza boy!"
"Always on time!"
"You're a lifesaver, kid!"
Some even left out cold drinks for him or waved from their stoops like he was some kind of mini-celebrity. And maybe, in a way, he was.
Old Mr. Carmine from 5th Street insisted on telling him the same World War II story for the third time.
Mrs. Alvarez gave him a bag of homemade cookies and told him he reminded her of her grandson.
He never stayed long, but he always smiled, always thanked them.
This was his beat. His neighborhood. He wasn't a billionaire in a metal suit, or a gamma-powered monster, or a god with a hammer.
But people knew his name.
---
8:30 p.m. – Last Delivery Complete
The final pie had been handed over, and the receipt signed with a solid $6 tip. Not bad.
Kai wiped sweat from his forehead as he walked down the apartment steps and zipped up his delivery bag. He checked his reflection in the glass door—messy hair, tired eyes, but still standing.
"Alright," he said. "Time for the real mission."
He pulled out the envelope, opened it, and began counting his cash while walking toward a row of small electronics stores near his route home.
The sky was dimming, painted in soft oranges and purples. Streetlights flickered on, one by one.
---
9:00 p.m. – Mobile Mart, Queens
Kai stood in front of a glass display case, eyebrows raised.
"Whoa," he muttered. "These are ancient."
He tapped the glass gently, eyeing the latest model—a black-and-gray smartphone with half the RAM and camera quality of the ones from his world.
Still… it worked. Internet, GPS, messaging, and most importantly—news.
After bargaining a little with the tired store clerk, he handed over more than half of his total savings.
The phone was boxed and bagged in minutes.
He stepped out of the shop holding the bag like it was a sacred relic.
"Finally," he said. "No more borrowing the library computer just to read emails."
He took a few steps down the street, pulled out the phone, and began setting it up.
His balance left just enough for rent—barely. The rest? He sighed and mentally prepared for another week of cheap instant noodles and store-brand peanut butter sandwiches.
Life of a low-budget hero.
---
9:21 p.m. – Walking Home
Kai walked along a quiet street, eyes flicking from the glowing screen in his hand to the sidewalk ahead. He admired the way the city looked at night—softer, slower, like it exhaled when people weren't looking.
He scrolled through the headlines:
> "Iron Man Sighted Over Manhattan Skies—Again."
"Green Giant Suspected to be in Virginia—Military Confirms Movement."
"Stark Industries Planning Press Reveal of New Energy Initiative."
He smirked. Tony doesn't sleep, huh?
Two months in this world. One friend made. One billionaire saved. One purpose slowly forming.
He was figuring it out, day by day.
Then the headlights hit him.
A sleek black Audi pulled up just ahead of him, blocking the sidewalk.
Kai stopped.
The car's engine purred softly. The tinted window rolled down.
Inside sat a man with a goatee, wearing a casual blazer over a Black Sabbath tee. He had sunglasses on, despite the late hour, and a smirk that could launch a thousand press releases.
"Hey there, pizza guy," Tony Stark said.
Kai blinked.
"…No way."
"Way," Tony replied. "Been looking for you."
Kai looked around as if checking to make sure this wasn't a prank. "How did you even find me?"
"I built weapons for over a decade," Tony said. "Now I build suits that fly. Tracking a guy with a glowing alien watch in a city full of cameras? Not that hard."
Kai instinctively tugged his sleeve down, hiding the Omnitrix. "Didn't think you noticed."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "You saved my life, remember? I notice stuff like that."
Kai remained still. "You gonna turn me in? Government? SHIELD?"
Tony leaned on the window frame. "Kid, if I wanted you in a lab, you'd be in one."
"…Not reassuring."
Tony chuckled. "Fair. But no—I'm not here to threaten you. I'm here to talk."
Kai tilted his head. "Talk?"
"You helped me when I was at my lowest. I haven't forgotten that. I've been meaning to reach out, but… well, building a new version of yourself is time-consuming."
Kai crossed his arms. "So why now?"
Tony nodded at the bag in his hand. "Because I've been watching. You could've been a thief, a vigilante, or another Hulk smashing buildings. But you're out here delivering pizza. Helping people. And occasionally scaring the crap out of criminals."
Kai gave a small smirk. "Ghostfreak tends to do that."
"Name?"
"Kai."
"Well, Kai…" Tony glanced around, then opened the passenger door. "Let's take a ride. No pressure. Just a chat. My treat—donuts included."
Kai hesitated. Every instinct told him to stay hidden, stay quiet.
But something else—something deeper—nudged him forward.
He stepped into the car.
The door shut.
Tony put the car in gear, and they pulled into the night.