The day the shadowy organization came calling, Alex was ready. He had anticipated the arrival of the inevitable black sedan and the impeccably tailored suit since the moment he saved Yinsen. He chose a meeting location deliberately: the OmniCorp Global Outreach satellite office, nestled inconspicuously—and completely bug-proofed—in a lavish suite overlooking Central Park.
He sat behind a slab of polished obsidian desk, reviewing stock reports, looking every inch the 18-year-old billionaire playboy reluctantly burdened with genius.
The door chime announced his guest. Alex looked up, and for the first time in this new life, he felt a genuine spike of nervous excitement.
She was even more captivating in person.
Natasha Romanoff walked in, clad in a sleek black pencil skirt and a pristine white blazer, playing the role of a corporate acquisition specialist from an unknown foreign entity. Her auburn hair was perfect, her posture lethal, and her green eyes assessed every square inch of the room—and Alex—in the space of a single breath.
"Mr. Thorne, thank you for fitting me in," she purred, extending a hand.
"Please, call me Alex. And 'fitting in' is what I do between fencing lessons and existential crises," he replied, rising smoothly.
He took her hand. His Prime senses, still rudimentary but powerful, instantly categorized her: Peak Human. Fast, strong, incredibly dangerous.
Natasha's grip was firm, almost a subtle test of strength. Alex matched it, his latent power humming just below the surface, making the handshake feel like shaking hands with a polished piece of granite. He held her gaze and offered a winning, slightly flirtatious smile.
"Don't stare at the hair, don't stare at the hair," Kevin's internal monologue screamed. "She's gorgeous, yes, but she could definitely fold you into a swan if you mess up."
The Interrogation Waltz
Natasha smoothly transitioned to the objective. "I represent a group interested in global stability. Your recent… material acquisition and unexpected journey to Afghanistan, coinciding with the events surrounding Tony Stark, raise flags."
"Ah, the old 'Gold Designation' inquiry," Alex chuckled, leaning back. "OmniCorp has proprietary interests in Vibra-Mica and high-efficiency solar harvesting. We were running simulations on energy disruption in destabilized regions. Stark's misfortune was just poorly timed luck for him. I assure you, my focus is purely on green energy—unlike some of our competitors who still prefer selling rocket launchers."
Natasha leaned forward, her voice dropping. "And the blue and gold figure who appeared? The one who took a shotgun blast to the chest and disappeared with the doctor?"
Alex maintained perfect eye contact, a masterful lie already crafted. "I saw the grainy feed the military picked up. If there's a man who can shrug off a shotgun, he certainly isn't me. I'm just an exceptionally well-funded college student. My guess? Tony Stark is not the only billionaire with a secret lab. Maybe someone else decided to suit up before he did."
She paused, studying him. She moved her hand quickly to reach for a pen on the desk, brushing his arm. It was a classic move to gauge reaction and physical tension.
Alex didn't flinch. He simply shifted, his movement impossibly graceful, and handed her the pen before her fingers reached it. "Looking for the pressure points, Agent Romanoff?" he asked, his voice low, a teasing challenge underlying the statement.
Natasha's smile was slight, genuinely amused. "You're well-informed, Mr. Thorne. Or perhaps, paranoid."
"A little of both, in my line of business," Alex said, then stood, indicating the interview was over. "Tell your Director that if he wants an ally in global stability who doesn't play with bombs, OmniCorp is always open to a clean energy contract. But keep your agents off my private flights."
As she walked out, Alex felt a flicker of energy—his Prime senses—tracing her retreat. She's good. She put three microscopic trackers in the room in the time it took to shake my hand.
He texted Eos: 'Phase one counter-surveillance initiated. Vacuum them up.'
Chemistry and Chaos
Later that evening, Alex was back at ESU, trading the obsidian office for the fluorescent lights of the library. He was meeting Gwen Stacy to work on a joint project for advanced theoretical physics—a subject he could ace in his sleep, but which allowed him perfect, extended proximity to her.
"The problem isn't the equation, Alex, it's the lack of observable variables," Gwen argued, pushing her glasses up as she marked up his clean notes. "You calculated the theoretical wave function collapse for this particle accelerator model perfectly, but your margin of error is zero. Nobody's margin of error is zero."
"Mine is," Alex said simply, making a quick correction on the whiteboard that somehow simplified the entire equation into a single, elegant truth.
Gwen stared. She looked genuinely stunned, her frustration melting into sheer intellectual admiration. "You did that without even lifting a finger. It's… beautiful. How do you do that?"
"A combination of high-grade coffee and a deep-seated fear of mediocrity," Alex lied easily. He loved their intellectual connection. It was pure, challenging, and miles away from the cosmic chaos lurking around the corner. Gwen was his grounding wire. He'd already found his intellectual equal, even if she had no idea he could bench-press a bus.
The Looming Crisis
Back at his heavily secured Manhattan penthouse late that night, Alex was running a deep dive on Obadiah Stane. His OmniCorp AI, Eos, flagged some chilling activity.
Eos: Accessing internal Stark Industries communication logs. Sir, Obadiah Stane's unauthorized R&D expenditures have spiked exponentially since Mr. Stark's return.
Alex: "I need the details, Eos. What's he building?"
Eos: Reverse-engineering the residual data from the Mark I suit recovered in Afghanistan. His focus is on replicating the arc reactor.
Alex: "The proto-Arc Reactor. And he's trying to kill Tony now that he's back. Just like the movies."
Alex leaned on his massive glass window, looking out over the city. This was it. The real reason he was here. He could save Yinsen, but he couldn't stop the forces of chaos from emerging. He was about to be officially outed as the first public meta-human.
"Eos, activate Project Golden Sentinel. Time to start scouting prime combat locations in downtown Los Angeles. I need to be there before Stane unleashes that monstrosity. And increase my solar charging regimen by 20%. I need to be able to fly this time."
The Golden Aegis stood silent and ready in the corner. Alex knew his debut had saved a life, but his next intervention would reveal him to the world. The era of heroes, thanks to a pizza-mop accident, was officially beginning.