Peace never shatters loudly.
Sometimes, it thins quietly—like glass under pressure.
Hunter felt it three days later.
Not an attack.
Not an explosion.
A gaze.
Vast. Distant. Ancient.
He stood in the greenhouse sanctuary at midnight, looking up through the ceiling window. The stars shimmered peacefully, but one of them pulsed faintly gold… then violet.
Something was observing Earth.
Observing him.
Behind him, soft footsteps approached.
Spider-Woman—mask off—stopped a few feet away.
"You feel it too, don't you?" she asked quietly.
"Yes."
Her arms folded unconsciously.
"That's not street-level villain energy."
"No."
"That's not alien warlord either."
"No."
Silence stretched.
The children slept peacefully among glowing plants. A fox curled near Eli's side. The twins murmured in their sleep as faint telekinetic sparks flickered harmlessly above them.
Hunter's jaw tightened slightly.
Anything cosmic-level would endanger this.
And that was unacceptable.
The system chimed.
[High-Risk Mission Detected]
Cosmic Entity Scanning Earth
Objective: Prevent Direct Manifestation
Reward: 5,000 Points
Failure: Unknown Consequences
Hunter closed the notification.
Spider-Woman watched him carefully.
"You do that face every time something serious happens."
"What face?"
"The calm one."
"I am calm."
"That's worse."
The sky pulsed again.
Then—
A beam of golden light descended from orbit, striking the upper atmosphere without touching ground. The clouds spiraled violently around it.
A voice echoed across the city.
Not loud.
But everywhere.
"Bearer of False Divinity."
Spider-Woman stiffened.
"…That's new."
Hunter stepped forward.
The manor doors opened on their own.
"I'll handle this."
She grabbed his wrist.
"Hunter. That voice covered the entire city."
"Yes."
"You can't just walk into that alone."
"I can."
"That's not what I meant."
Their eyes locked.
For the first time, there was something fragile in hers.
Not fear for herself.
Fear for him.
Hunter gently removed her hand.
"The children need someone here."
She clenched her jaw.
"I hate when you're reasonable."
He gave the faintest hint of a smile.
Then he rose into the sky.
Above the clouds—
The entity manifested partially.
Not a full body.
A colossal silhouette made of constellations and burning cosmic fragments.
Its "face" shifted between stars.
"You do not belong to this timeline," it spoke.
Hunter floated calmly before it.
"Correct."
"You radiate a construct beyond this universe's design."
"Yes."
"You closed a dimensional fracture with authority not granted to you."
"It was inconvenient."
The entity's star-field form rippled.
"Are you a usurper?"
"No."
"An invader?"
"No."
"Then what are you?"
Hunter considered briefly.
"…Someone who wants quiet."
The cosmic presence pulsed.
Then laughter—like supernovas collapsing.
"You possess power rivaling herald-tier entities… yet you shelter children."
"Yes."
"You limit yourself deliberately."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Hunter's golden scars faintly glowed beneath his hoodie.
"Because power without restraint is noise."
Silence.
Then—
Energy surged.
The entity tested him.
A gravitational compression wave bent space inward.
Hunter didn't move.
The pressure stopped at his skin.
Then dissolved.
The entity recalibrated.
Increased intensity.
Hunter raised one hand.
Golden light expanded outward like invisible wings unfolding across the atmosphere.
The compression shattered instantly.
Clouds cleared for miles.
The entity stilled.
"You could harm me."
"Yes."
"But you do not."
"No."
"Why?"
"You are observing. Not destroying."
The cosmic silhouette shifted.
"You are not aligned with conquest."
"No."
"You are not aligned with chaos."
"No."
"You are… anomalous."
"Yes."
A pause.
Long.
Heavy.
Then—
The entity began withdrawing.
"I will inform the higher observers that Earth possesses a contained irregularity."
"Thank you."
"If you escalate beyond planetary stability, intervention will occur."
"I won't."
The last fragments of starlight faded.
The sky returned to normal.
Hunter remained hovering for a moment longer.
Then descended.
Spider-Woman was waiting at the manor gates when he landed.
She didn't speak immediately.
She just looked at him.
"…Well?"
"It's fine."
"You talked it out with a cosmic god-thing."
"Yes."
"And it left."
"Yes."
She exhaled sharply.
"That is not normal."
"No."
She stepped closer.
"Are there more like that?"
"Yes."
She rubbed her temples.
"Of course there are."
Hunter glanced at the sleeping children inside.
"It won't escalate."
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
She studied him again.
There it was.
That quiet certainty.
Not arrogance.
Not overconfidence.
Just… truth.
"You know," she said softly, "most heroes would build teams, alliances, towers with their name on it."
"I don't want a tower."
"What do you want?"
He looked at her directly.
"…A house."
Something in her expression shifted.
The teasing edge softened.
The sarcasm faded.
"You're ridiculous," she whispered.
"I've been told."
She stepped into the manor again.
This time without hesitation.
Inside, the greenhouse glowed warmly.
Eli stirred slightly in his sleep.
Spider-Woman watched the children.
Then looked back at Hunter.
"You're going to attract more attention," she said quietly.
"Yes."
"And I'm going to be dragged into it."
"Yes."
"And you're not going to stop me."
"No."
She walked up to him until only inches separated them.
"Good."
Silence settled between them again.
But this time—
It wasn't fragile.
It felt like the beginning of something steady.
Above Earth, far beyond visible space—
Whispers moved between ancient observers.
The anomaly had responded without aggression.
Contained.
Restrained.
But powerful.
And in darker corners of the universe—
Not all beings valued restraint.
Some saw power.
And wanted to claim it.
The peace Hunter desired had survived another night.
But the universe had officially marked his existence.
And sooner or later—
Something wouldn't come just to observe.
It would come to challenge.