Question and answer.
Hawk froze.
Felicia froze too.
"A year?"
"A month?"
"..."
Their eyes met, both reading the shock mirrored in the other.
Then Hawk understood. Why it had been night when he entered the storm, yet daylight once he came through.
Time flowed differently here.
"One month outside… equals one year in here."
"Which means one day here is…"
His mind raced—
Felicia answered for him.
"About twelve days outside."
"Hiss…"
Hawk sucked in a sharp breath. His gaze swept the hut again.
At first he'd thought it merely tidy and warm. But something had felt off. Now he knew why.
The furniture—the tables, the chairs, the decorations—none of it matched the tattooed tribespeople outside.
"So, you and Peter made this?"
"Mostly Peter," Felicia said with a soft smile, following his eyes. "He's very good with his hands."
Her face glowed with that unmistakable expression—
a woman deeply in love.
Breath never lied.
Hawk had assumed Peter was here. But no, only Felicia remained, carrying his lingering scent so strongly it could fool even Hawk's senses.
Only one explanation.
They had merged their lives completely.
When Felicia praised Peter's skilled hands, Hawk's eyes flickered oddly, though he hid it at once.
"By the way—you came here looking for Peter's parents, didn't you? Did you find them?"
"We did."
"And…?"
"You said one day here equals twelve days outside. That explains why the Ivi tribe told us Peter's parents died more than a century ago. We thought it was a translation error, but… it was true."
One year here equaled one month outside.
Peter's parents vanished over ten years ago. On Skull Island, that was more than a hundred.
At that moment, Felicia's brow furrowed.
"Wait. If outside it's only been a month, the resupply team I arranged should have come. How are you here?"
"I said you'd been inside for over a month."
"Outside…"
"Your entire base was wiped out. Only one survivor left. Some guy named Os—"
"Os?"
"Yeah." Hawk nodded, briefly explaining the storm-night massacre at the Pacific base. Then he frowned.
"Anyone else who might want you dead?"
Felicia fell silent. Then shook her head.
"I took over Oscorp smoothly. The old board welcomed me far better than Harry. We've had nothing but good cooperation. I can't think of anyone."
"Forget it. We'll deal with that later."
Hawk let it go. At least Peter and Felicia were safe.
That was enough.
He wasn't a saint. Keeping himself and his friends happy was all that mattered.
Everyone else? Irrelevant.
Like the squad that had supposedly come in with them. Hawk hadn't asked. He didn't care.
"So. How long has Peter been out?"
"Since morning. The hunters always go out at dawn and return by sunset."
Her face softened again at his name.
"Peter's amazing. After the Ivi accepted us, I learned a little of their tongue. But Peter… Peter's incredible. This place is too dangerous, Hawk. You should have seen—"
She stopped short, glancing into his eyes, then looked away.
"You're different. You don't fear anything. Do you know what the Ivi called you when they knelt?"
"God?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"They thought you were their ancestor."
"…What the hell?"
Hawk's brows shot up.
Ancestor? He didn't even have descendants yet!
Damn time distortion.
Once, he'd figured Peter's romance would be rough—maybe Hawk would father children first.
Instead… Spider Jr. was already on the way.
Felicia mistook his look for awe at the tribe's worship and explained,
"In their legends, they descend from a sky-god who could fly and wield immense power. You're the same as their forefather."
Hawk snorted.
"I don't have that many kids running around."
"I know. It's just their myth. If they were true god-blood, they wouldn't still be trapped here."
She smiled, then changed the subject.
"Thirsty? There's a fruit here, like a coconut but better. Peter brought some back. I'll get one."
"Sure."
She vanished inside, soon returning with a blue coconut-like fruit and a metal knife.
"This stuff is tough. You need this—"
But the knife vanished from her hand.
"Uh… Hawk?"
He was staring at it, lost in thought.
"Where did this come from?"
"Peter saved an Ivi child. They gave it as thanks. Why?"
Hawk shook his head slowly.
No problem with the knife.
But his sixth sense—the one that had been pulling him here—suddenly fell silent the moment he touched it.
Of course.
This was what it had been warning him about.
Adamantium.
The toughest metal Earth had ever birthed.
His cosmos flared, heat blazing white around his fingers.
The blade didn't melt. Didn't even soften.
Hawk inhaled sharply.
This was harder than vibranium.
Vibranium could absorb energy, yes—but even it had limits. Push it past capacity, it shattered.
Like Captain America's shield, broken by Thanos's uru-forged blade.
But if that shield had been Adamantium?
Thanos could swing forever—it would never break.
Because Adamantium's only property was hardness. Absolute hardness.
Once cooled, it could never be reshaped, never melted again.
Logan had endured the full Phoenix Force thanks to it.
The full Phoenix Force.
Only Adamantium could pierce Adamantium.
Hawk's heart burned. Now he understood.
This was what his sixth sense had brought him here to find.
Adamantium.
He had wanted uru metal too, for his true Phoenix Cloth.
But with Adamantium to replace the rare Silver Star Sand, and uru to surpass vibranium, the armor would become unbreakable.
The only question—
Why was there Adamantium on this forgotten island?
And…
…
(End of Chapter)
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