The final credits of Notting Hill rolled up the massive screen.
On the coffee table in front of the couch sat the grease stained wrapper that had once contained a world class cheeseburger.
Aryan leaned back into the plush cushions.
Beside him, Red Queen's holographic avatar remained.
"So," Aryan said, breaking the silence as he stretched his arms over his head. "I have to admit, as far as cinematic comfort food goes, that wasn't half bad."
"The data was conclusive," she replied, her tone laced with a self satisfied pride. "My predictive model indicated an 87% probability of a positive emotional outcome for you. I am rarely wrong."
"Rarely?" he chuckled. "Let me guess, you've already run the numbers and you know exactly how many times you've been 'wrong' since you were activated."
"Precisely," she said without a hint of irony. "Seventeen times. Eleven of those were during my initial learning phase and involved misinterpreting the nuances of human sarcasm. There were inaccurate weather predictions for micro climates in the Andes. And three."
She paused, her holographic eyes narrowing slightly, "were inaccurate predictions regarding the romantic decision making of Wanda Maximoff. Her behavior, when it involves you, occasionally deviates from established psychological models. She is a fascinatingly chaotic variable."
"Tell me about it," Aryan said with a smile. "So, what's next on the agenda for my 'emotional support AI'? Are we going to analyze the socio economic undertones of 90s rom coms?"
"Tempting," she said. "But I have already moved on to the next phase of the protocol: post movie analysis of the subject."
She gave him a look that was a perfect imitation of a curious therapist. "So, Aryan. How did the film make you feel?"
He burst out laughing. "You're unbelievable. You spent the last two hours running statistical analyses on my brain chemistry, and now you want to talk about my feelings?"
"It is a crucial data point!" she insisted. "Your emotional state is the single most important variable in the stability of this entire operation. Your happiness is... a strategic priority."
"Well, for your data logs, then," he said. "I feel... relaxed. It was a nice story. Boy meets girl, boy screws it up, boy makes a grand gesture, they live happily ever after. It's a nice fantasy."
"Is that what you want?" she asked. "A simple life?"
The question caught him off guard. He thought for a moment, his gaze drifting to the window. A simple life
"I don't know," he admitted honestly. "But moments like this... a good meal, a simple story, good company..."
He looked at her. "They're not a bad substitute."
A pleased glow seemed to emanate from her holographic form. "My presence is computationally determined to be 'good company'?"
"Don't let it go to your head," he teased. "Your statistical probability of being 'good company' is currently hovering at around sixty eight percent. You still have room for improvement."
"Challenge accepted," she said, her eyes gleaming with a competitive fire.
Suddenly his Omega level Precognition flared up. He saw the funeral. And then, he saw a elderly man, bundled in a heavy coat and a simple flat cap, arriving at the cemetery long after the crowds had gone.
He saw Old Steve stand before Peggy's grave. He saw him place a single white rose on the freshly turned earth. He saw the quiet grief of a man saying his final goodbye.
The scene was heartbreaking. But Aryan's precognitive sense was focused on the periphery.
Far in the background, he saw a black car. He saw a flicker of a reflection in its window. Nick Fury.
He followed the thread, letting his awareness flow forward along Fury's timeline.
The thread of probability now split into a thousand different futures, but one burned brighter than the others, a high probability outcome.
He saw Fury, consumed by this mystery, dedicating his entire shadow network to a single new mission: finding this old man.
He saw Fury finally succeeding, and finally cornering an even older Steve Rogers.
He saw the confrontation. "Who are you? How are you alive?"
And then he saw the most dangerous part.
He saw Fury's paranoid mind refusing to accept the simple truth of a quiet life.
He saw a future where Fury, after months of off the books surveillance, orchestrates a "routine" wellness check on the elderly Rogers, using it as a pretext for his agents to covertly search the house.
He saw them find, hidden in a false bottomed chest in the back of a dusty closet.
A nanotech infused suit and a matching device for the wrist… the Advanced Tech Suit and the Temporal GPS that Tony Stark from another universe had invented. It was the very machine that had brought Steve here.
The moment Fury's agents got their hands on that device, the timeline fractured into chaos.
He saw a future where Fury, obsessed with correcting the mistakes of the past.
He saw them trying to prevent the Chitauri invasion, only to bring it to Earth a decade earlier.
He saw them trying to stop the Snap, only to inadvertently give Thanos the information he needed to acquire the stones even faster.
He saw a dozen different paths, and every single one of them ended in fire, in a world ending war far worse than the one they had originally been fated for.
Steve's harmless existence was a ticking time bomb, and Nick Fury, in his relentless pursuit, was the one who was about to light the fuse.
His consciousness snapped back to the present.
Red Queen's avatar, who had been watching him in silence, instantly registered the change. Her playful expression was replaced by concern.
"Aryan," she said. "Your heart rate just spiked by thirty beats per minute. Your adrenaline levels are elevated. You are exhibiting a classic fight or flight response. Are you ok?"